Closing Rings
Alexia Putellas x Reader
5.3 WC | Fluff, slightly suggestive | GIF not mine
Summary: Alexia and Y/N have a secret, a fitness challenge might just be the thing to catch them out
If there was one thing the FC Barcelona Femení squad loved almost as much as football, it was competition.
"Alright, chicas," Jonatan, the assistant coach, clapped his hands. "Today’s session is about fitness monitoring. New program."
The squad collectively groaned.
Jonatan grinned, holding up his own wrist. "Apple Watches, Oura Rings, whatever you’re wearing; we’ve synced them all into the Barça Fit app. We’ll be tracking movement, calories, sleep, steps. Weekly rankings."
"Weekly rankings?" Patri repeated, deadpan. "Like we’re Pokémon Go characters?"
"It’ll be fun," Mapi smirked, already fiddling with her Apple Watch. "Finally, proof that I’m fitter than Ingrid."
Ingrid rolled her eyes. "Delusional."
Y/N chuckled, sliding her own watch on. She’d bought it mostly for running, but now it seemed it was going to betray her in ways she hadn’t considered. She cast a quick glance at Alexia, who was smirking knowingly, like she’d already predicted how this was going to go.
“Just don’t check the leaderboard too obsessively,” Jonatan warned. “It’s for motivation, not obsession.”
Which, in retrospect, was the beginning of the end.
“Welcome to the Hunger Games,” Patri announced dramatically as she scrolled through her wrist. “Except no one dies. Well, unless Alexia kills us during fitness drills.”
“Don’t tempt me,” Alexia muttered, stretching casually, though her lips twitched like she was holding back a smile.
You were perched on the bench nearby, tying your shoelaces tighter than necessary to keep from laughing. Being around this team was like being thrown into the middle of a sitcom, but you were used to it by now. What they didn’t know, yet, was that you were also Alexia’s girlfriend.
And that was something neither of you had shared with the team.
Not because you were hiding out of shame, far from it, but because you both agreed it was kind of nice having something just yours. Barcelona Femení was a family, but they were also terrible gossips. If one person knew, the whole team would know, and by dinner the entire city of Barcelona might as well.
So, for now, you stayed under the radar.
“Alright, everyone synced?” Mapi clapped her hands together like an evil mastermind. “Ready for a challenge? The rules are simple. Every activity is logged. Whoever has the highest numbers by the end of the month wins. Losers…” her eyes swept over the group with mock menace, “…buy the winners dinner.”
“Plural?” Ingrid raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, plural.” Mapi smirked. “Me and whoever else is worthy of standing next to me at the top.”
“Delusional,” Aitana muttered.
“Competitive,” Mapi shot back.
You leaned against the bench, trying not to smirk too much as you looked at Alexia. She wasn’t saying anything, just scrolling lazily through the app like she wasn’t taking it seriously. But you knew better. If there was one thing your girlfriend hated, it was losing. She’d never admit it, but she was one of the most competitive people you’d ever met.
The first week was chaos.
Aitana got spotted doing yoga in the locker room between drills. Even Irene, who swore she “didn’t care about dumb leaderboards,” started doing pushups in the hall before meetings.
“Patri’s been running laps around her kitchen at midnight,” Mapi announced one day, reading the rankings. “You can’t be that desperate.”
“I wasn’t running laps,” Patri protested. “I was… making tea.”
“Fifty floors of tea?” Mariona snorted.
Everyone laughed, the usual chaos of the locker room. Y/N pretended to check her bag, hiding a smile. She and Alexia had been careful, workouts only logged during normal hours, nothing suspicious.
But then came Wednesday night.
It was 2:43 a.m. Y/N lay flat on Alexia’s bed, chest heaving, sweat sticking to her skin.
“That was…” she panted, “…not yoga.”
Alexia, sprawled next to her, smirked. “It burned calories.”
“Alexia.” Y/N turned her head, glaring weakly. “You know our watches log this stuff.”
“Mm.” Alexia stretched an arm above her head, unbothered. “Let them think I’m committed to midnight Pilates.”
“They’re going to think something,” Y/N muttered, covering her face with her hands.
Alexia only chuckled, rolling over and pressing a kiss to Y/N’s shoulder. “Relax, cariño. They’ll never piece it together.”
Except the next morning, Patri’s voice rang through the training pitch.
“WHO THE HELL IS WORKING OUT AT 2:40 IN THE MORNING?!”
Y/N nearly tripped over the cone she was dribbling around.
The entire squad crowded around their synced app, gasping, laughing, speculating. Two names flashed in the “Completed Workouts” section: Alexia Putellas and Y/N L/N. Both logged exactly 47 minutes. Both at 2 something in the morning.
Mariona’s eyes were wide. “That’s… creepy.”
Ingrid raised an eyebrow. “Coincidence?”
“Coincidence my ass,” Mapi said, smirking. “Who does HIIT at 2:40 a.m.?”
Alexia jogged over, calm as ever. “What’s going on?” she asked, feigning innocence.
“Your watch thinks you’re an insomniac,” Patri accused, waving her phone.
Alexia peered at the screen, lips twitching. “Ah. Yeah, sometimes I can’t sleep. I like to…move.”
Y/N nearly choked on her water. Move. That was one way to put it.
“You too, Y/N?” Mariona teased, glancing at her. “Starting rookie hazing early with 3 a.m. cardio?”
Heat crawled up Y/N’s neck. “I- uh..I couldn’t sleep either.”
Alexia, the devil herself, simply patted Y/N’s back like a supportive captain. “Good habits, eh?”
The squad laughed it off, eventually distracted by training. But Y/N knew it wouldn’t be the last time. Not with Alexia’s cocky grin lingering like a secret weapon.
Sure enough, it happened again.
Friday night. 1:58 a.m. Alexia had pulled Y/N into her home gym after a movie night. "Just ten minutes," she’d promised. Ten minutes turned into thirty of… well, not exactly gym exercises. Y/N had begged her to turn off the watch. Alexia just raised a brow and whispered against her ear, “Where’s the fun in that?”
Saturday morning, locker room chaos.
“Okay no, this is too weird,” Patri said, holding up her phone again. “You two did another workout together at the exact same time? Middle of the night?”
“Do you have like a secret pact?” Mapi asked, grinning. “The Midnight Fitness Club?”
“Maybe they’re vampires,” Mariona suggested.
Y/N sputtered, “It’s… It’s just a coincidence!”
“Twice?” Patri deadpanned.
Alexia smirked, cool as ice. “Some people value discipline.”
Y/N wanted the ground to swallow her whole.
By the third time it happened, there was no saving face.
Monday. 3:12 a.m. 62 minutes logged.
“Okay,” Mapi slammed her hand on the table during breakfast. “Confess. What’s going on between you two?”
The entire squad stared at Y/N and Alexia.
Y/N’s heart pounded so loud she swore it echoed in the cafeteria. Her fork trembled in her hand. Alexia, on the other hand, leaned back casually in her chair, sipping her coffee like she was immune to mortal panic.
“Going on?” she repeated smoothly.
“Yes!” Patri said. “Three nights this week. At ungodly hours. Both of you. For the exact same amount of time. Nobody’s that coordinated without planning it.”
“Unless…” Mapi’s grin spread wickedly. “…you’re planning something else.”
Laughter exploded around the table.
Y/N buried her face in her hands. “Oh my god.”
Alexia reached over, calmly plucking a piece of toast from Y/N’s plate, unfazed by the chaos. “You all think too much,” she said with a shrug. But her eyes - oh, her eyes were sparkling with mischief as they flicked to Y/N’s flushed face.
She was enjoying this.
Far too much.
The second week was underway. First thing in the morning, the press room at Ciutat Esportiva was buzzing, as it always did days before a Champions League fixture. Cameras, microphones, questions flying in every direction. Alexia handled it with her usual calm authority, giving clipped but confident answers in that smooth captain’s voice.
Y/N, sitting two seats down, tried to appear equally composed. Except she wasn’t. Because all she could think about was the way Alexia’s hand had brushed against hers under the table, out of view. A feather-light touch, a silent promise.
“Y/N,” one reporter called. “How are you finding your first Champions League campaign with Barça?”
Y/N blinked, forcing a smile. “Um, it’s been incredible. The support from the team makes everything easier.”
Beside her, Alexia gave the tiniest smirk. Y/N sat up straighter, praying no one noticed the warmth creeping up her neck.
The press session ended, players dispersing back toward the training ground. The squad was chattering, joking, debating who gave the most boring answer (Patri, unanimously).
But as soon as the hallway cleared, Alexia caught Y/N’s wrist.
“Five minutes,” she whispered.
Y/N blinked. “Now?”
Alexia’s grin was sinful. “Now.”
The gym was empty. Everyone else had either gone to shower or other media. Alexia closed the door behind them, tugging Y/N into the corner where the mats were laid out.
“This is reckless,” Y/N hissed, though she was already letting herself be pulled down onto the mat.
Alexia leaned in, brushing a stray hair from her face. “This is cardio.”
“You’re impossible.”
“You love it.”
Twenty-five minutes later, both of their watches buzzed. Workout complete.
Y/N groaned, flopping back onto the mat. “We’re doomed.”
Alexia only laughed, stealing a quick kiss before tugging her up. “Relax, cariño. Nobody checks it immediately.”
She was wrong.
By lunch, the notifications had been spotted.
“WHAT?!” Patri’s voice rang through the cafeteria. “Again?!”
The table erupted in chaos. Phones were whipped out. Screens shoved in faces.
“11:47 a.m.,” Mariona read dramatically, like a courtroom prosecutor. “Right after media. Guess who logged a 25-minute workout together?”
All eyes turned.
Alexia chewed her chicken calmly. Y/N nearly choked on hers.
“Oh come on,” Mapi said, grinning ear to ear. “You guys aren’t even trying to hide it now.”
“Maybe they’ve got a secret training pact,” Ingrid offered, though her smirk betrayed that she didn’t believe it.
“Yeah,” Patri deadpanned. “The Pact of Suspiciously Synced Heart Rates.”
Y/N dropped her fork. “We just… like to… stay active!”
Laughter roared around the table. Even Ona, usually quiet, chuckled into her salad.
Alexia sipped her water, completely unfazed. “Discipline,” she said again, shrugging like it was the simplest answer in the world.
Y/N wanted to scream.
From then on, it became a running joke. Every random moment, the squad checked their app.
After recovery yoga: both Alexia and Y/N logged an “extra” 15 minutes. After team dinner: another 40 minutes mysteriously appeared at 10:55 p.m.
Even after media days, when the entire squad was together; somehow, someway, those two always logged matching sessions within minutes of each other.
“They’re sneaking off,” Mariona announced one day, loud enough for half the locker room to hear.
“They’re definitely sneaking off,” Mapi agreed. “I swear I saw them disappear after physio yesterday.”
“You’re imagining things,” Y/N squeaked, tugging on her boots.
Mapi leaned in, mischievous. “Am I?”
Y/N’s ears burned.
By the third week of suspiciously synced workouts, the Barcelona locker room had shifted from amused curiosity to full-on investigation mode.
“This isn’t normal,” Patri declared one morning, scrolling through the app like it was evidence in a courtroom trial. “Nobody works out this much together unless there’s a secret.”
“Or unless they’re dating,” Mapi added, smirking.
Y/N fumbled with her laces so hard she almost tied her boots together.
Alexia, lounging nearby, looked entirely unbothered. “Or maybe we’re just competitive,” she said smoothly.
“Competitive?” Mariona repeated. “At two in the morning?”
Alexia’s shrug was the picture of captainly calm. “Discipline.”
The squad groaned in unison.
That afternoon, a new plan was hatched.
“Operation Caught-in-the-Act,” Mapi announced proudly in the physio room. “We’re going to prove it once and for all.”
“How?” Ingrid asked, though the twitch of her mouth suggested she already knew she was going to regret asking.
“Stakeout,” Mapi said, like it was obvious.
Mariona grinned. “Like detectives.”
“Exactly.”
Patri crossed her arms. “This is ridiculous.”
“…but brilliant,” Mariona added.
Patri sighed. “Fine. I’m in.”
The first attempt came after training.
Y/N and Alexia had barely slipped out of the locker room, heading toward the side hallway, when whispers echoed behind them.
“Follow them!” Mapi hissed.
Y/N glanced over her shoulder, heart skipping. She could’ve sworn she saw Mariona’s head pop out from behind a vending machine.
Alexia, unfazed, leaned down and murmured, “Don’t look back.”
“I think they’re actually following us,” Y/N whispered.
“They’ll lose interest.”
Spoiler: they didn’t.
The “stakeout squad” trailed them down the hall, ducking behind corners with the subtlety of toddlers playing hide-and-seek.
At one point, Ingrid had to physically pull Mapi back because she was giggling too loudly.
But when Y/N and Alexia slipped into the gym and closed the door, the squad rushed to peek inside, only to find the pair genuinely lifting weights.
“Damn it,” Mapi muttered.
“Told you,” Patri said smugly.
Except twenty minutes later, both watches buzzed, logging an “extra activity” session that didn’t match what they had witnessed.
Mapi stared at her phone in disbelief. “How?!”
“Maybe they’re… multitasking?” Mariona offered.
The group dissolved into wheezing laughter.
The second attempt came after a media day.
Knowing their habit of vanishing after press duties, the squad decided to set a trap.
“We’ll all stay together,” Patri insisted, gathering the team in the tunnel. “No one leaves until we’re dismissed. That way, no sneaking off.”
Y/N’s stomach sank. Alexia, of course, looked like she’d just been handed a puzzle to solve.
Sure enough, ten minutes later, Alexia leaned down, whispering low into Y/N’s ear, “Meet me by the physio room. Two minutes.”
“What? They’re literally watching us!”
“That’s the fun part.”
And somehow, impossibly, Alexia pulled it off. A casual excuse to grab water. A wave at a staff member down the hall. A quick detour.
By the time Y/N nervously slipped away, the squad was still huddled, distracted by Mapi trying to convince Patri to start a TikTok series called Fitness Gate.
Twenty-five minutes later: ding. Both watches buzzed.
Mapi’s jaw dropped. “No. Freaking. Way.”
“They’re magicians,” Mariona whispered, staring at her screen. “Or spies.”
It became a game, the squad versus the secret couple.
During a recovery pool session, Patri and Mariona stationed themselves at opposite exits to “block escape routes.” Somehow, Alexia and Y/N still vanished, logging a suspicious 30 minutes.
At team dinner, Mapi hid behind a menu, watching their every move. The next morning, their watches revealed a perfectly matched midnight “yoga” session anyway.
Even when Ona, usually the quiet observer, joined in, she could only shake her head. “They’re professionals. You won’t catch them like this.”
Mapi gasped. “So you admit there’s something to catch!”
Ona smirked but said nothing.
Y/N, meanwhile, was living in a constant state of near-heart-attack.
“They’re literally hunting us,” she whispered one evening at Alexia’s apartment, clutching a cushion to her chest.
Alexia stretched out on the sofa, scrolling through Netflix like nothing was wrong. “They’re not hunting. They’re playing.”
“They’re scheming! They’re going to corner us one day!”
Alexia finally looked up, grin tugging at her lips. “Then we’ll tell them.”
Y/N squeaked. “You’re not even a little nervous?”
“No.” Alexia reached over, tugging her onto her lap. “You’re mine, and sooner or later they’ll know. Until then…” She brushed her lips against Y/N’s ear. “…I like watching you squirm.”
Y/N groaned into her hands. “You’re evil.”
“Evil,” Alexia echoed, chuckling. “But irresistible.”
The next morning, when both of their watches logged a suspicious 3 a.m. “core workout,” the squad went feral in the group chat.
Mapi: THEY DID IT AGAIN. Patri: At 3 a.m.??? Do they ever sleep? Mariona: This is insane. I’m making a conspiracy board. Ingrid: Please don’t. Mariona: Too late.
One thing was clear: the squad wasn’t giving up.
And Y/N knew it was only a matter of time before one of their schemes actually worked.
It started with Mariona showing up to training with a roll of tape and a stack of printed screenshots.
“Everybody to the meeting room!” she announced dramatically, waving the papers in the air. “It’s time.”
Patri groaned. “Oh no.”
Mapi’s grin spread like wildfire. “YES. The Board.”
Within minutes, the squad had crowded into the unused video-analysis room. The projector was off, the tactical diagrams ignored. Instead, Mariona slapped the first paper onto the whiteboard: a screenshot of the Barça Fit app showing Alexia Putellas and Y/N L/N logging a 52-minute workout at 2:11 a.m.
“Exhibit A,” Mariona declared.
Patri dragged a hand over her face. “This is ridiculous.”
“This is SCIENCE,” Mariona corrected, already taping up more screenshots. “Exhibit B. Exhibit C. Exhibit D. Notice the pattern?”
The board filled up fast: timestamps, matching workout durations, photos of Alexia and Y/N caught sneaking into hallways. Mariona even drew connecting lines with red marker, circling everything like she was solving a true crime case.
Ingrid sat with her arms crossed, watching the chaos. “You all realise you’re insane, right?”
“Insanely observant,” Mapi corrected, grabbing a marker and scribbling Possible Scenarios at the top of the board.
“Okay,” Mariona said, stepping back like a proud professor. “Hypothesis one: they are actually vampires. Nocturnal activity, unexplained energy at training, suspiciously glowing skin-”
“Vampires?” Patri interrupted.
“Don’t dismiss it,” Mariona warned.
“Hypothesis two,” Mapi said, taking over. “Secret training cult. They’ve created their own midnight fitness regime, probably involving sacrifices…”
“Oh my god,” Patri muttered, sinking into her chair.
“Hypothesis three,” Mariona announced with a flourish, “and the most likely: they’re sneaking off for… activities.”
The squad erupted into howls of laughter.
Meanwhile, down the hall, Y/N was tying her boots when she heard the commotion.
“What are they even doing in there?” she asked, side-eyeing the muffled shouts.
Alexia smirked knowingly, adjusting her shin guards. “Scheming.”
“Scheming?”
“Mm.” She leaned closer, lowering her voice. “They’re obsessed with us, cariño. Can’t stop thinking about what we’re doing.”
Y/N felt her face go hot. “Alexia!”
But Alexia was already strolling toward the pitch, shoulders relaxed, that cocky grin in place.
Back in the meeting room, Patri tried to salvage some sanity.
“Look, you don’t need conspiracy theories. The answer is obvious.”
“Exactly!” Mapi shouted. “They’re hooking up!”
Patri blinked. “…I was going to say they just train together. But sure, let’s go with your theory.”
Ona, who had been quiet as always, finally spoke up. “If they’re hiding something, they won’t slip up in normal situations.”
The room went quiet. Everyone turned to her.
“They’re too careful,” Ona continued, calmly flipping through her phone. “If you really want to catch them, you need to create a scenario where they think they’re safe.”
Mapi gasped, eyes wide. “Like a trap.”
“Yes,” Ona said simply.
Mariona slapped the board. “Operation Honeypot!”
“That’s not what honeypot means,” Ingrid muttered.
But Mapi was already scribbling “TRAP” in huge letters across the board.
The next day, the trap was set.
Jonatan had finished tactical drills early, so the players were gathered in the meeting room. Mariona raised her hand. “Coach, could you excuse us for a second? We just… need to discuss something privately.”
Jonatan raised an eyebrow but left, muttering about dramatic footballers.
The moment the door closed, Patri announced loudly, “Okay, emergency toilet break. Everyone out!”
The squad “casually” filed out, except for the stakeout team, who crouched outside the door like kids at a sleepover.
Inside, Alexia leaned back in her chair, smirking. “You hear that?”
Y/N blinked. “Hear what?”
“They’re setting a trap.”
“What?!” Y/N squeaked, whipping her head toward the door. “Are you serious?”
“Mm.” Alexia stood, tugging her wrist. “Come on. Let’s give them what they want.”
“What do you mean?!”
But Alexia just winked.
Outside, the squad held their breath as the door creaked open. Footsteps echoed down the hall. Then silence.
Mapi whispered, “They took the bait.”
Mariona nearly squealed. “This is it!”
The group crept after them, peeking around corners like cartoon detectives. Finally, they reached the physio corridor, where they found Alexia and Y/N…
…sitting calmly on the bench, scrolling their phones.
“Caught you!” Mapi shouted, bursting out from behind the corner.
Alexia looked up, unimpressed. “Caught us… waiting for physio?”
Y/N blinked, wide-eyed, clutching her phone like it was a lifeline.
Mapi froze. “Wait. But you…we…”
Behind her, Patri groaned. “This is pathetic.”
Ona smirked knowingly.
Later that night, when both watches buzzed with a 1 a.m. “HIIT workout,” the squad group chat exploded.
Mapi: THEY OUTSMARTED US. Mariona: They KNEW about the trap. Patri: Maybe because you shouted “Operation Honeypot” in the locker room yesterday. Ingrid: Clowns. All of you. Ona: Told you.
Y/N lay tangled in Alexia’s sheets, face buried in her chest. “They’re never going to stop.”
Alexia kissed her hair, chuckling. “Good. I like the entertainment.”
“You’re evil.”
“Evil,” Alexia echoed, grinning. “And still undefeated.”
By now, the team had reached what could only be described as obsession. The “mystery of the midnight workouts” had become a daily fixture of conversation, escalating from casual teasing to full-blown detective work.
“They’re laughing at us,” Mapi muttered one morning, scrolling through her phone like it had personally betrayed her. “Mocking us with their little synced sessions.”
“They’re mocking you,” Ingrid said dryly, tying her boots.
“No, they’re mocking all of us!” Mapi insisted. “Every suspicious workout is a declaration of war.”
Patri rolled her eyes. “You’re unhinged.”
Mariona nodded sagely. “But she’s right. It’s war.”
And so the schemes escalated.
First came the GPS trackers; Mapi sneakily slipped an AirTag into Alexia’s gym bag, proudly announcing, “Checkmate.” Except the next morning, the tracker pinged from a perfectly boring location: Alexia’s living room.
“Maybe they really are just doing late-night workouts,” Ingrid suggested.
Then came the hidden cameras; Mariona convinced the kit man to let her “test” a new GoPro setup in the gym. But when they reviewed the footage, all they saw was Alexia calmly riding a stationary bike for twenty minutes, before winking directly at the camera and walking out.
Mariona clutched her head. “She knows. She knows everything.”
Ona, as always, smirked. “Told you.”
Y/N, meanwhile, was living in permanent panic.
“They’re going to catch us,” she hissed one evening in Alexia’s apartment, pacing the floor like it was a crime scene. “Mapi has gone full FBI. Mariona has a board. Patri’s probably running background checks.”
Alexia lounged on the couch, scrolling through her phone like she hadn’t a care in the world. “Let them try.”
“You don’t understand…”
Alexia reached out, snagging Y/N’s wrist, pulling her onto her lap. Her grin was maddeningly smug. “Scared the team will find out just how much stamina their captain has?”
Y/N nearly fell off her lap. “ALEXIA!”
“What?” Alexia teased, brushing a kiss against her neck. “It’s just fitness, no?”
Y/N covered her face with both hands. “You’re insufferable.”
“And you love it.”
The problem, of course, was that Alexia’s cockiness wasn’t unwarranted.
Because that night, for reasons Y/N couldn’t even comprehend, their “session” stretched past an hour. And when their watches buzzed: Longest workout yet: 92 minutes. Y/N nearly cried.
The next morning, the squad erupted.
“NINETY. TWO. MINUTES.” Mapi screamed, slamming her phone onto the breakfast table like it was proof of alien life.
The entire team gathered around, jaws dropping.
“Ninety-two minutes of cardio at three a.m.,” Patri said flatly. “That’s not normal. That’s… borderline superhuman.”
Mariona whistled low. “Stamina.”
Ingrid’s eyebrow shot up. “Impressive.”
Y/N, sitting two seats down, choked so hard on her orange juice that Vicky had to thump her on the back.
Alexia, across the table, just smirked over her coffee. “Discipline,” she said again smoothly, like it explained everything.
Mapi slammed her hands on the table. “NO. This isn’t discipline. This is… this is…” She gestured wildly. “…something ELSE.”
The squad howled with laughter, voices echoing around the cafeteria.
Y/N’s ears burned crimson. Alexia, meanwhile, leaned back in her chair like a cat in the sun, entirely unbothered.
Of course, ninety-two minutes was the spark that lit a new fire under the squad.
“This is it,” Mapi said, pulling out her notebook later that day. “Our white whale. If we can’t catch them after this, we never will.”
Mariona nodded gravely. “We need the ultimate plan.”
Patri muttered, “Or you could just… ask them?”
“No,” Mapi snapped, eyes wild. “We don’t ask. We hunt.”
Ona chuckled under her breath.
Back in Alexia’s apartment, Y/N buried her face in a pillow. “They’re insane. They’re going to put us under surveillance.”
Alexia ran a hand lazily through Y/N’s hair, the smirk still lingering. “Let them. They’ll never win.”
“You’re too cocky.”
“Mm.” Alexia kissed her temple. “Maybe. But admit it, you like watching me win.”
Y/N groaned into the pillow. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
Alexia’s laugh was low, soft, and maddeningly smug. “Ninety-two minutes says otherwise.”
By now, the entire Barcelona women’s squad was in too deep.
What had started as harmless teasing had spiraled into a full-blown mission.
Mapi slammed her notebook down onto the cafeteria table like a manifesto.
“Operation Midnight Raid,” she declared.
Patri groaned. “That sounds illegal.”
“It’s not illegal,” Mapi countered. “It’s genius. We’re staying overnight at Ciutat Esportiva. No one leaves, no one sneaks off, no excuses. We’ll all be together; meaning no midnight workouts.”
“And if they still log a workout,” Mariona added dramatically, “then it proves something unholy is happening.”
Y/N nearly dropped her fork. “Overnight? At the training ground?”
“Yes,” Mapi said, narrowing her eyes at her. “A squad bonding sleepover. Everyone in the same place. No chance of… sneaky cardio.”
Across the table, Alexia calmly buttered her toast. “Sounds fun.”
Y/N gaped at her. Fun?!
That night, the squad transformed one of the media rooms into a makeshift dorm. Air mattresses, blankets, snacks, even a projector for movies. It had the chaotic energy of a school trip, players shrieking with laughter and tossing popcorn across the room.
Y/N sat stiffly on her mattress, glancing nervously at Alexia across the room. Alexia was leaning against the wall, arms folded, watching the chaos with that infuriating smirk.
“They’re watching us like hawks,” Y/N whispered when Alexia finally settled beside her.
“I know,” Alexia murmured back. “It’s adorable.”
“Adorable?!”
Alexia’s grin turned wicked. “Scared they’ll find out how much stamina their captain has?”
Y/N nearly smothered herself with her blanket.
The squad was relentless.
Every bathroom trip was monitored. Every trip to the vending machine was tracked. Mapi even set alarms through the night, insisting on “random checks.”
Around midnight, Patri shook everyone awake just to “make sure no one was missing.”
“Still here,” Alexia muttered, voice hoarse with sleep.
“Still here,” Y/N croaked, cheeks burning.
Mapi squinted at them suspiciously. “We’ll see.”
By 2 a.m., the locker room had finally quieted. Snores echoed, someone’s Spotify playlist hummed faintly from a corner, and the squad’s elaborate trap seemed airtight.
Y/N curled into her blanket, eyes heavy. For once, maybe, just maybe, they’d survive the night without suspicion.
Then she felt Alexia’s hand brush hers under the covers.
Her eyes flew open. “No,” she whispered. “Absolutely not.”
Alexia leaned close, her breath tickling Y/N’s ear. “Relax. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good,” Y/N whispered back firmly. “Because they’ll actually kill us if we-”
Her watch buzzed.
Y/N froze.
“What the hell?!” she whispered, glancing at the screen. Somehow, inexplicably, it had started tracking a workout.
Alexia’s eyes glinted with mischief. “Guess it knows something you don’t.”
“Alexia!” Y/N squeaked, yanking her wrist away. “Turn it off!”
Too late.
By morning, both watches proudly displayed a synced “low-intensity activity” session logged at 2:17 a.m.
Chaos. Absolute chaos.
Mapi screamed so loudly when she saw the notifications that half the staff came running.
“EXPLAIN THIS!” she demanded, waving her phone in Alexia and Y/N’s faces. “We locked you down! You had guards! You had surveillance! HOW?!”
Mariona collapsed onto the floor, wheezing. “They’re… unstoppable.”
Patri rubbed her temples. “This is insane.”
Ona smirked knowingly. “Told you they couldn’t be caught.”
Y/N wanted to dig a hole and crawl into it. “It must’ve been a glitch,” she babbled, waving her hands. “Like… like, maybe the watches picked up on… tossing and turning in our sleep?”
“Oh sure,” Mapi said, dripping sarcasm. “You both tossed and turned for twenty minutes at the exact same time.”
Y/N made a strangled noise.
Alexia, of course, looked cool as ever. “Maybe we’re just in sync,” she said with a lazy shrug.
The squad erupted.
Later that night, safe in Alexia’s apartment, Y/N groaned into the couch cushion.
“We’re so close to getting caught. If they find out what we’re actually doing-”
“They will,” Alexia cut in calmly, tugging her into her lap.
Y/N blinked. “You want them to?”
Alexia smirked, leaning down until their noses brushed. “Eventually.”
“Why do you look so smug about this?”
“Because.” Alexia kissed her cheek, her grin maddening. “Ninety-two minutes wasn’t even our limit.”
Y/N let out a muffled scream into her hands.
The locker room buzzed with restless energy. The squad had tried everything; trackers, cameras, overnight stakeouts, and every time, Alexia and Y/N slipped through their fingers.
“This is it,” Mapi declared, standing on a bench like a revolutionary leader. “One final challenge. Winner takes all.”
“Winner takes what?” Ingrid asked, unimpressed.
“The truth!” Mapi shouted, pumping her fist.
Patri buried her face in her hands. “I can’t believe I play for a team of children.”
The “truth challenge” was announced later that morning: a team-wide competition of endurance circuits, balance drills, and strategy games. Partners were chosen at “random,” though everyone knew Mapi and Mariona had pulled the strings.
“Alexia and Y/N,” Jonatan read.
Y/N’s heart plummeted into her stomach. Of course.
Beside her, Alexia smirked as she fastened the resistance band around their waists. “Shall we?”
“They’re setting us up,” Y/N hissed.
“Let them,” Alexia murmured, leaning down to her ear. “We’ll win.”
The day was chaos from start to finish.
First was the endurance gauntlet. With the band tethering them, Y/N struggled to match Alexia’s pace, but her captain never slowed, guiding her with steady hands and smug encouragement.
“Keep up, princesa,” Alexia teased, barely breaking a sweat.
Second was the balance beam relay. Every wobble Y/N made, Alexia’s hand steadied her waist, whispering, “I’ve got you.” The squad hooted from the sidelines, Patri shouting, “This is basically a public date!”
By the time they hit the obstacle course finale, Y/N was exhausted, but Alexia was still running like she’d just started.
Hours later, when the dust settled and the scores were tallied for the first month of the fitness challenge, the inevitable happened.
“And the winners,” Jonatan announced, reading from his clipboard, “by a landslide… Alexia and Y/N.”
The squad erupted. Mapi shrieked, Mariona clutched her head in mock agony, Patri groaned like she’d lost all faith in humanity.
“Unstoppable,” Ingrid muttered.
Y/N, cheeks burning, shuffled awkwardly toward the front. Alexia, on the other hand, strode confidently, arm sliding casually around Y/N’s waist.
Jonatan handed them the prize, a ridiculous golden foam trophy someone had dug out of storage. The squad wolf-whistled, phones out, recording every second.
Alexia raised the trophy high, grin wide. “Gracias.” Then, with a casualness that sent the room into chaos, she added:
“And thank you on behalf of my girlfriend, too.”
Silence.
A beat.
Then absolute pandemonium.
“WHAT?!” Mapi shrieked so loud the windows rattled.
“I knew it!” Mariona screamed, pointing at the ceiling like she’d solved a murder case.
Patri dropped her water bottle. “Oh my god.”
Ona just smirked knowingly.
Y/N hid her face in her hands, mortified. “Alexia…” she groaned.
But Alexia only kissed the top of her head, grinning smugly at her teammates. “You all worked so hard to find out. Consider this your prize.”
The squad went ballistic; cheering, teasing, chanting their names like it was a championship win.
Later, when the locker room had calmed and the team was still buzzing about the reveal, Y/N slumped onto the bench, face bright red.
“You’re unbelievable,” she muttered, glaring at Alexia.
Alexia smirked, tugging her close with zero shame. “You’re mine. They were going to find out eventually. Might as well let them know when we’re on top.”
Y/N groaned, but couldn’t stop smiling when Alexia kissed her in front of everyone again, smug as ever.
Because, like always, Alexia had chosen the perfect moment.
Winners take all.