#putellas

[alexiaputellasera]

Rosalia

Summary - Jay gets tickets for Alexia to see Rosalia.

Word count - 14.2k

Jay had been planning this for weeks.

Not because it was a special occasion that required elaborate gift giving or grand romantic gestures. Alexia's birthday was still months away, sometime in February when Barcelona would be cold by Spanish standards but nowhere near the bone deep chill of an English winter. Their anniversary wasn't for another three weeks, though Jay had been counting down the days like a lovesick teenager, already planning that celebration with meticulous detail that would have impressed even Alexia's tactical mind.

There was no particular reason to buy ridiculously expensive VIP tickets to see Rosalía perform at the Palau Sant Jordi in Barcelona, the kind of tickets that cost more than Jay's monthly grocery budget and came with access to things like private lounges and meet and greet opportunities and probably champagne that cost more per bottle than most people spent on dinner.

Except for one very important, very simple fact.

Alexia loved Rosalía.

Like, really loved her.

Like, the kind of love that bordered on obsession in a way that Jay found both endearing and slightly concerning.

Jay had noticed it almost immediately after they'd started dating, back in those early days when everything was new and overwhelming and Jay was still learning all the little details that made Alexia who she was.

The way Alexia's entire face would light up, genuinely transform, when a Rosalía song came on the radio. How her eyes would go bright and her expression would shift from focused footballer to excited fan in approximately two seconds flat. How she'd immediately reach for the volume dial, turning it up, not even asking if Jay minded, just assuming correctly that Jay would never mind anything that made Alexia that happy.

The way she knew every single word to every single song and would sing along with absolute conviction and zero self consciousness, her accent thickening, getting more Barcelona with each word.

The way her voice would take on this particular quality when she sang, something raw and emotional and beautiful that made Jay forget how to breathe sometimes.

The way she'd play Rosalía's albums on repeat while cooking, while cleaning, while getting ready to go out, while doing literally anything that required background music or sometimes even when it didn't require background music, just because she wanted to hear it.

She'd play El Mal Querer while chopping vegetables for dinner, singing along to "Malamente" while wielding a knife with more enthusiasm than was probably safe.

She'd play Motomami while folding laundry, dancing around the bedroom with Jay's t shirts, moving her hips in ways that made Jay forget entirely about the laundry and focus on other, more interesting activities.

She'd play Los Ángeles while getting ready for team events, doing her makeup in the bathroom mirror while "La Fama" played, occasionally pausing to deliver particularly dramatic lines directly to her reflection like she was having a conversation with herself.

Jay didn't mind.

Actually, she kind of loved it.

She didn't understand half of what Rosalía was singing about, if she was being honest. Her Spanish was improving, genuinely improving thanks to eight months of near constant exposure to Alexia and her family and teammates who switched between Spanish and English and sometimes Catalan with a fluidity that made Jay's brain hurt. She could hold basic conversations now, could understand tactical discussions during training, could follow most of what was said at family dinners even if she couldn't always contribute.

But Rosalía's Spanish was different. Faster, more poetic, full of flamenco influenced phrasing and cultural references Jay didn't have the context to understand, switching between singing and something that was almost speaking, almost rapping, in a way that made it hard to follow even when Jay concentrated.

But watching Alexia be so passionate about something made Jay happy in a way she couldn't quite articulate.

It was like watching someone completely in their element, completely uninhibited, completely themselves.

And if Alexia was happy, Jay was happy.

Simple as that.

An equation so straightforward it didn't require any complicated math or analysis.

Alexia happy equals Jay happy.

Everything else was just details.

So when Jay had seen, completely by accident while scrolling through Instagram on a random Tuesday afternoon during a break in training, that Rosalía was doing a show in Barcelona at the Palau Sant Jordi, and that VIP tickets were available, expensive as hell but available, Jay hadn't even hesitated.

Hadn't considered the price.

Hadn't worried about whether it was too much for no special occasion.

Hadn't questioned whether Alexia would want to go, because of course she would want to go, the question was ridiculous.

She'd immediately opened the ticketing website, had navigated through the various tiers of seating, had looked at the VIP package description with its promises of premium seating and exclusive lounge access and meet and greet opportunities with the artist herself.

Had entered her credit card information without even looking at the total price because if she looked at it she might chicken out and this was for Alexia, for making Alexia happy, and you couldn't put a price on that.

Had bought two tickets.

VIP section. Best seats in the venue. Fourth row centre, close enough to see everything, to feel like you were part of the performance, to actually see Rosalía's face instead of just watching a distant figure on stage.

Meet and greet passes included, which meant Alexia could actually meet her, talk to her, get photos, whatever she wanted.

Jay had stared at the confirmation email for a long moment after it arrived, at the obscene total at the bottom that made her bank account weep, and had felt absolutely zero regret.

This was going to make Alexia so happy.

So incredibly, wonderfully, beautifully happy.

And that was worth any amount of money.

The hard part had been waiting for the right moment to give them to her.

Jay wasn't good at keeping secrets from Alexia. She'd never been good at it, had always been the kind of person who got excited about surprises and wanted to share them immediately, who couldn't hold onto good news for more than approximately five minutes before bursting.

And Alexia could read her like a book anyway, could tell when Jay was hiding something just by looking at her face, by the way Jay's eyes would go slightly too bright, by the way she'd smile at random moments for no apparent reason.

"What are you thinking about?" Alexia would ask, and Jay would have to work very hard not to just blurt out everything.

"Nothing," she'd say, which was obviously a lie.

"You are thinking about something," Alexia would insist, moving closer, her hands coming up to frame Jay's face, her thumbs stroking across Jay's cheekbones gently. "You have that look. That secret look. What are you hiding, guapa?"

"Nothing," Jay would repeat, leaning in to kiss her, using kissing as a distraction technique that worked approximately sixty percent of the time. "Just thinking about how much I love you."

"Mmm," Alexia would hum against her lips, clearly not buying this but willing to let it go for now. "I love you too, bebe. Even when you are keeping secrets."

But Jay had managed to hold out, had kept the tickets hidden in her nightstand drawer for three days, checking on them periodically like they might disappear if she didn't verify their existence regularly.

The right moment, as it turned out, was a lazy Sunday afternoon in mid October.

Barcelona autumn, which meant the weather was still beautiful, still warm enough to sit outside comfortably but not so hot that existing felt like punishment, the kind of perfect temperature that made you understand why people loved this city so much.

They'd slept in late, neither of them setting alarms, both of them exhausted from the week of training and matches and media obligations and all the other things that came with being professional footballers at the highest level.

Had woken up around ten to sunlight streaming through the curtains of their bedroom, warming the bed, making everything feel golden and soft and perfect.

Had a slow breakfast in bed that Alexia had made, padding around the kitchen in one of Jay's oversized shirts that she'd stolen months ago and refused to give back, humming Rosalía songs under her breath while she made coffee and toasted bread and cut fruit.

She'd brought everything back to bed on a tray, had climbed back under the covers, had fed Jay pieces of orange between kisses, her fingers lingering on Jay's lips, her eyes warm and content.

"You are spoiling me," Jay had said, catching Alexia's hand and kissing her palm.

"You deserve to be spoiled, amor," Alexia had said, leaning in to kiss the corner of Jay's mouth, then her jaw, then her neck, clearly having ideas about how to spend the rest of the morning that didn't involve breakfast.

And they'd spent the better part of the late morning and early afternoon wrapped around each other, the breakfast tray pushed to the side and eventually abandoned entirely, the world outside Alexia's bedroom completely forgotten in favor of more important, more immediate, more desperately needed activities.

Now they were lying tangled in the sheets, both flushed and satisfied and thoroughly content, the afternoon sun having shifted across the room, painting new golden rectangles on the floor, warming the air until it felt thick and drowsy and perfect.

Jay was on her back, one arm tucked behind her head, the other wrapped around Alexia who was sprawled half on top of her in that particular configuration they'd perfected over eight months of sleeping together, of learning how their bodies fit best.

Alexia's head was on Jay's chest, positioned perfectly so she could hear Jay's heartbeat, which she claimed helped her fall asleep, helped her feel grounded, helped her know that Jay was real and there and hers.

Her hair was spilling everywhere, dark and silky and smelling like her coconut shampoo, tickling Jay's skin in a way that might have been annoying if it wasn't Alexia, if it wasn't perfect.

One of Alexia's legs was hooked over Jay's thigh, possessive even in this relaxed state, like she needed to be touching as much of Jay as physically possible.

Her fingers traced lazy patterns on Jay's stomach, occasionally dipping lower just to feel Jay's breath catch, just to feel her muscles tense, just to prove she could still affect Jay even though they'd already thoroughly exhausted each other, then moving back up with a satisfied smile against Jay's skin that suggested she knew exactly what she was doing.

"I don't want to move," Alexia murmured against Jay's collarbone, pressing a soft kiss there, then another slightly higher, then another on Jay's shoulder. "Ever. We should stay here forever. Just like this."

"Sounds good to me, babe," Jay said, running her hand through Alexia's hair, her fingers massaging Alexia's scalp gently in the way that always made Alexia make these small contented sounds, like a cat being petted. "We can order food. Live here. Never leave this bed."

"Perfect plan," Alexia agreed, pressing another kiss to Jay's skin, her lips lingering. "Very practical. Very realistic."

"I should probably shower though," Alexia added after a moment, but she made absolutely no effort to actually move, just settled more comfortably against Jay, her body going heavier, more relaxed. "I am... how do you say... sticky."

"You're perfect," Jay corrected, her hand moving from Alexia's hair down to her back, tracing the line of her spine with gentle fingers. "Sticky is perfect. Everything about you is perfect."

"Mmm," Alexia hummed, clearly pleased by this assessment, tilting her head up to capture Jay's lips in a slow, languid kiss that tasted like satisfaction and contentment and home. "You are biased."

"Extremely biased," Jay agreed against her mouth, kissing her again because she could, because Alexia was right there and kissing her was the best thing in the world. "So biased it's probably unfair. But also correct. You're objectively perfect."

"Objectively," Alexia repeated, smiling against Jay's lips. "This is a fact?"

"Scientific fact," Jay confirmed. "Proven. Verified. Peer reviewed. Alexia Putellas is perfect. Published in all the major journals."

Alexia laughed, that full genuine laugh that made her throw her head back slightly, that made her eyes crinkle at the corners, that made Jay's entire chest feel warm and tight and full.

"You are ridiculous, guapa," she said, settling back against Jay's chest, her hand resuming its lazy patterns on Jay's stomach.

"About you? Always," Jay said.

They lay there in comfortable silence for a while, both drifting in that pleasant haze between being awake and being asleep, that perfect space where everything felt soft and warm and safe, where time didn't matter and the outside world didn't exist and nothing was important except this, the two of them, together.

Jay's hand continued its gentle path through Alexia's hair while Alexia's fingers traced invisible designs on Jay's skin, occasionally stopping to press her palm flat against Jay's stomach, feeling the rise and fall of her breathing, the steady rhythm that matched her own.

The room was quiet except for their breathing and the distant sounds of Barcelona outside the window, cars passing, people talking, life continuing while they existed in this perfect bubble.

Then Jay remembered.

The tickets.

They were in the nightstand drawer, where she'd hidden them three days ago after they'd arrived in the mail, tucked safely in their envelope, waiting for exactly this moment.

She'd been waiting for the perfect time to give them to Alexia, and this felt right.

Lazy Sunday afternoon, both of them happy and content and thoroughly satisfied, no rushing, no obligations, nothing to do except exist together and enjoy each other.

Perfect.

"Hey, baby," she said softly, her hand stilling in Alexia's hair. "I got you something."

Alexia lifted her head from Jay's chest to look at her, curiosity immediately sparking in those beautiful eyes that were still slightly heavy-lidded with satisfaction, a small smile playing at her lips.

"You did?" she asked, her accent thick in that way it always was when she was relaxed, when she wasn't thinking about making her English perfect, when she was just being herself. "What did you get me, guapa?"

"It's in the drawer," Jay said, gesturing vaguely toward the nightstand. "Top drawer. Can you reach it?"

Alexia stretched, her body arching in a way that was completely unfair and absolutely intentional if the small smirk on her face was any indication, reaching for the nightstand drawer while still mostly draped across Jay.

She pulled it open, rummaged around for a moment past the various items they kept there, random things, chapstick and hair ties and the book Alexia was reading and some other odds and ends, until her fingers closed on the envelope.

She pulled it out, sitting up properly now, the sheet pooling around her waist, and Jay tried very hard not to be distracted by how unfairly beautiful Alexia looked like this, all golden skin and messy hair and kiss swollen lips.

Failed completely at not being distracted.

Was extremely distracted.

"Focus, babe," Alexia said, clearly noticing where Jay's attention had gone, pressing a quick kiss to Jay's shoulder before turning her attention to the envelope. "What is this?"

"Open it and find out," Jay said, propping herself up on her elbows so she could watch, unable to keep the grin off her face, excitement bubbling up in her chest because she knew Alexia was going to love this, was going to be so happy, and making Alexia happy was Jay's favourite thing in the entire world.

Alexia opened the envelope carefully, always careful with things, never just ripping into them, sliding her finger under the flap and opening it neatly.

She pulled out the tickets, two printed pieces of cardstock with the venue logo and date and seat information.

And went very, very still.

Completely frozen, like someone had pressed pause on her, her eyes fixed on the tickets in her hands.

For a long moment, she just stared at them, not moving, barely breathing, her expression caught somewhere between shock and disbelief and something that looked almost like tears.

Then she looked at Jay, her eyes wide and bright and definitely wet now, shining in the afternoon sun.

"Bebe," she breathed, and her voice cracked slightly on the word, thick with emotion. "These are... this is..."

"Rosalía tickets," Jay confirmed, her grin getting wider, sitting up fully now so she could see Alexia's face better, could watch this reaction that was even better than she'd hoped. "VIP. In two weeks. November second. There's a meet and greet pass in there too, see? The second piece of paper. You can actually meet her. Talk to her. Get photos. Whatever you want."

Alexia looked back at the tickets like she still couldn't quite believe they were real, her hands shaking slightly as she pulled out the second piece of paper, the meet and greet pass that guaranteed access to the private event before the show.

"You bought me Rosalía tickets," she said slowly, carefully, like she was testing the words, making sure they were true.

"I did," Jay confirmed, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind Alexia's ear, her hand lingering on Alexia's cheek.

"VIP Rosalía tickets," Alexia continued, her voice getting higher, tighter, more emotional with each word. "With the best seats. And a meet and greet pass. To actually meet her. To talk to her."

"The best seats in the house," Jay said, her thumb stroking across Alexia's cheekbone gently, wiping away the single tear that had escaped and was tracking down her face. "Fourth row centre. You'll be able to see everything. And yes, you get to meet her. Actually meet her. In person. Not just see her on stage."

"Dios mío," Alexia whispered, staring at the passes again, then back at Jay, then back at the passes like she couldn't decide which was more important to look at. "This must have cost so much money, bebe. So much. These tickets are so expensive and the VIP and the meet and greet, this is..."

She trailed off, seeming unable to finish the sentence, her free hand coming up to her mouth.

"Don't care about the money," Jay said immediately, firmly, taking both of Alexia's hands in hers, passes and all, holding them gently. "It doesn't matter. What matters is that you're happy. Are you happy?"

"Am I happy?" Alexia repeated, and then she was moving, setting the tickets down carefully, reverently on the nightstand before turning back to Jay and cupping her face in both hands, holding her like she was something precious and fragile and infinitely valuable. "Bebe, I am... I don't have words. I am so happy. So incredibly happy. This is the best gift anyone has ever given me."

Her eyes were definitely wet now, actual tears gathering, and Jay felt her chest go tight with overwhelming affection and love and the desperate need to make sure Alexia knew how much she meant to her.

"Good," Jay said softly, leaning forward to rest her forehead against Alexia's, their noses brushing. "That's all I wanted. To make you happy. You deserve to be happy, baby. You deserve everything."

"Why?" Alexia asked, and her voice was thick now, choked with emotion, her accent so pronounced Jay could barely understand her. "Why did you do this? It's not my birthday. It's not our anniversary. It's not any special day. Why?"

"I don't need a reason," Jay said, pulling back slightly so she could look Alexia in the eyes, so Alexia could see how much she meant this. "You love Rosalía. I love you. I love making you happy. That's all the reason I need. That's enough."

She punctuated the words with kisses, one after each sentence, soft and gentle and full of every feeling she couldn't quite put into words.

Forehead.

Nose.

Cheek.

Lips.

Lips again, lingering this time.

"You are too good to me," Alexia said against her mouth, her voice breaking completely now, tears spilling over, running down her cheeks. "Too good. I don't deserve you. I don't deserve this."

"Don't say that," Jay said immediately, fiercely, wiping away Alexia's tears with her thumbs, her hands gentle on Alexia's face. "Don't ever say that. You deserve everything, Ale. Everything good in the world. And I'm going to spend the rest of my life trying to give it to you."

Alexia made a sound that was half sob, half laugh, and kissed her properly this time, deeply, desperately, trying to convey everything she was feeling through touch alone because words weren't enough, could never be enough for this.

Her hands were in Jay's hair, pulling her closer, her body pressing against Jay's, skin to skin, heat to heat, no space between them.

The kiss was soft at first, gentle, full of gratitude and affection and all the things words couldn't quite capture, Alexia's lips moving against Jay's like she was saying thank you, I love you, you're everything, all at once.

Then it shifted.

Deepened.

Became more urgent, more desperate, more necessary.

Alexia's tongue slid against Jay's, her teeth catching Jay's bottom lip, her hands tightening in Jay's hair in a way that sent sparks down Jay's spine.

"Ale," Jay gasped when they broke apart for air, her hands sliding down to Alexia's waist, gripping, pulling her closer even though there was no closer to get. "Baby, we just..."

"I don't care," Alexia interrupted, kissing her jaw, her neck, her shoulder, her lips hot and insistent against Jay's skin. "I love you. So much. You are so perfect. How are you so perfect? How did I get so lucky?"

"I'm not perfect," Jay started, but Alexia cut her off with another kiss, fierce and claiming and absolutely devastating.

"You are," Alexia insisted between kisses, her hands roaming now, touching everywhere she could reach, relearning Jay's body like she hadn't just spent the past hour thoroughly acquainting herself with it. "You bought me Rosalía tickets. VIP tickets. With a meet and greet. For no reason except to make me happy. You are perfect. The most perfect person in the world."

She punctuated each sentence with a kiss, moving from Jay's mouth to her jaw to her neck to her shoulder, her lips and teeth and tongue mapping a path down Jay's body with clear intent.

"You don't have to..." Jay tried to say, but her breath caught as Alexia's mouth found a particularly sensitive spot just below her collarbone, as Alexia's hands slid up her ribs, thumbs brushing the underside of her breasts with maddening lightness.

"I want to," Alexia said firmly, pulling back to look at Jay, her eyes dark and heated and full of want and love and determination. "I need to show you. Need to make you feel good. Need you to understand how much this means to me. How much you mean to me. Vale?"

"Vale," Jay agreed breathlessly, because how could she argue with that, how could she say no when Alexia was looking at her like that, touching her like that, loving her like that.

"Good," Alexia said, smiling now, that particular smile that was equal parts sweet and absolutely filthy, the one that made Jay's entire body go hot and tight with anticipation. "Now lay back, guapa, and let me take care of you. Let me show you how grateful I am."

And she did.

The afternoon dissolved into sensation and whispered endearments in two languages, Alexia's mouth and hands worshipping every inch of Jay's skin with the kind of focused attention she usually reserved for football, taking her time, making this last, making sure Jay felt cherished and desired and absolutely loved.

She started slow, so slow it was almost torture, kissing every piece of skin she could reach, murmuring things in Spanish that Jay only half understood but that sounded like poetry, like prayers, like promises.

"Eres tan hermosa," Alexia whispered against Jay's stomach, pressing kisses there, her hands stroking Jay's sides. "Tan perfecta. Mía. Mi amor. Mi vida. Mi todo."

Jay's hands tangled in Alexia's hair, not pulling, just holding, just needing to touch her, to anchor herself because Alexia was taking her apart piece by piece with nothing but her mouth and her hands and her words.

When Alexia finally, finally moved lower, when her mouth found exactly where Jay needed her most, Jay's back arched off the mattress, her head pressing back into the pillow, Alexia's name falling from her lips like a prayer, like a plea, like the only word that mattered.

"Ale, please, I need..."

"I know, guapa," Alexia murmured against her skin, her breath hot, her hands gripping Jay's thighs, holding her steady. "I know what you need. I always know. Let me give it to you. Let me make you feel good."

And she did, taking Jay apart with devastating precision and infinite patience, using her mouth and her tongue and her fingers in combinations that made Jay see stars, made her forget her own name, made her forget everything except the feeling of Alexia loving her exactly like this.

Pleasure built and built and built, tension coiling tighter and tighter in Jay's stomach, her thighs shaking, her hands fisting in the sheets, in Alexia's hair, desperate for something to hold onto.

"Ale, I'm going to... I can't... I'm..."

"Sí, amor," Alexia said, not stopping, not slowing, her tongue doing something absolutely devastating that made Jay's vision go white. "Give it to me. Let go. I have you."

And Jay did, falling over the edge with Alexia's name on her lips, her entire body tensing and then releasing in waves of pleasure so intense it almost hurt, so good she actually cried, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes as Alexia worked her through it, gentle now, careful, drawing it out until Jay was boneless and shaking and completely undone.

When she could breathe again, when she could think again, when the world had reformed itself into something recognisable, she found Alexia watching her with an expression of such smug satisfaction and tender affection that Jay felt her chest go tight all over again.

"Come here," she managed, her voice wrecked, pulling weakly at Alexia's shoulders.

Alexia crawled back up her body, pressing kisses along the way, before settling beside her and pulling Jay into her arms, gentle and careful like Jay was made of something fragile.

"You okay, guapa?" she asked softly, pressing a kiss to Jay's temple, her hand stroking up and down Jay's back soothingly.

"More than okay," Jay said when she could speak, when her brain had rebooted enough to form coherent words. "That was... you're... holy shit, babe."

Alexia laughed, pleased and proud, kissing Jay's forehead. "Good. You deserved it. You deserve everything."

"That's my line," Jay protested weakly.

"Is both our lines," Alexia corrected, her accent thick and beautiful. "We both deserve everything. Lucky for us we have each other."

Jay managed to raise her head enough to capture Alexia's lips in a kiss that was slow and deep and full of every feeling she couldn't articulate, tasting herself there, not caring, just needing to kiss her, to show her, to make her understand.

"My turn," she murmured against Alexia's mouth when they broke apart. "Need to touch you. Need to make you feel good too."

"You don't have to," Alexia started, but Jay was already shifting, rolling them over so Alexia was on her back, Jay hovering above her, grinning at Alexia's surprised expression.

"I know I don't have to," Jay said, lowering herself to kiss Alexia properly, thoroughly, taking her time about it. "I want to. Need to. You made me come so hard I saw actual stars, baby. The least I can do is return the favour."

"You already made me come twice this morning," Alexia pointed out, but her hands were already sliding up Jay's back, her body arching up into Jay's touch, clearly not actually protesting.

"Then we'll make it three," Jay said, kissing down Alexia's jaw, her neck, the hollow of her throat. "Or four. Or five. Or however many times it takes until you can't remember your own name. Sound good?"

"Dios mío, sí," Alexia breathed, her head falling back against the pillow, her thighs falling open in invitation. "Please, guapa. Please touch me."

And Jay did, spending the next hour, maybe longer, time became meaningless and irrelevant, learning Alexia's body all over again like she hadn't already memorised every sound, every reaction, every perfect response.

She took her time, used her hands and her mouth and occasionally her teeth when Alexia arched up and begged for more, for harder, for anything and everything Jay would give her.

Made her come once, twice, a third time that left Alexia shaking and gasping and speaking exclusively in Spanish, a flood of words that Jay only partially understood but that sounded like prayers, like worship, like love made verbal.

"No más, no más, bebe, I can't, it's too much, please..."

But then Jay would kiss her and touch her in exactly the right way and Alexia would arch up again, would beg for more, would pull Jay closer and demand everything all over again.

By the time they were both thoroughly exhausted, completely spent, absolutely satisfied, the sun had shifted completely across the room, the shadows growing longer, evening approaching.

They lay tangled together, both trying to catch their breath, both boneless and sated and so thoroughly content it was almost painful.

Jay was on her back again, Alexia draped across her chest, one leg thrown over both of Jay's, possessive even in exhaustion, her hair a complete disaster, her lips swollen from kissing, her skin flushed and marked with evidence of Jay's attention.

"Best gift ever," Alexia murmured against Jay's shoulder, pressing soft kisses there, unable to stop touching even now. "Better than anything. Better than I ever imagined."

"The tickets or the sex?" Jay asked, grinning, running her hand up and down Alexia's back in long, soothing strokes.

"Both," Alexia said, lifting her head to look at Jay, her eyes bright and soft and so full of love it made Jay's breath catch. "But mostly you. You are the best gift. Every day with you is the best gift."

"Sap," Jay said, but her voice was thick with emotion, her free hand coming up to cup Alexia's face gently.

"Your sap," Alexia corrected, leaning down to kiss her, slow and sweet and perfect. "Forever your sap. Is this okay?"

"More than okay," Jay said against her lips, kissing her again because she could, because Alexia was right there and kissing her was the best thing in the world. "It's perfect. You're perfect. I love you so much."

"Te amo," Alexia whispered, settling back against Jay's chest, her hand splaying possessively over Jay's heart. "Te amo más que nada en el mundo. More than anything in the world."

They stayed like that for a long time, both drifting in and out of sleep, neither wanting to move, neither wanting to break the perfect spell of the afternoon.

Eventually, when hunger became impossible to ignore, when the sun had set completely and the room was lit only by the streetlights outside, they dragged themselves out of bed with great reluctance.

Showered together with more lingering touches and lazy kisses under the warm spray, Alexia pressing Jay against the tile wall for one more kiss that threatened to turn into much more before Jay laughingly pushed her away.

"We need to actually eat food, babe," Jay said, catching Alexia's wandering hands that were sliding down her stomach with very clear intent. "Real food. Not just each other."

"Why?" Alexia asked, her hands still moving, her mouth finding Jay's neck. "I like eating you. You taste good. Very nutritious."

"Alexia," Jay said, and she was trying to be firm but it came out more like a moan because Alexia's mouth had found that spot behind her ear that made her knees weak. "Food. Real food. We need energy."

"For what?" Alexia murmured against her skin.

"For later," Jay said, finally managing to catch both of Alexia's hands and pin them against the wall above her head, kissing her firmly. "When I absolutely destroy you again after dinner."

"Oh," Alexia said, her eyes going dark. "In that case. Sí. Food. We should eat."

They got dressed, though it took significantly longer than necessary because Alexia kept stealing kisses and Jay kept getting distracted by how unfairly good Alexia looked in her jeans, the way they hugged her hips, the way her shirt rode up slightly when she reached for something, revealing that strip of golden skin that Jay wanted to taste.

"Stop looking at me like that," Alexia said, catching Jay staring, grinning as she walked over to press Jay against the dresser, kissing her thoroughly. "We will never make it to dinner."

"Your fault for being so attractive," Jay defended, her hands sliding down to Alexia's hips, pulling her closer.

"Is not a fault," Alexia said against her lips. "Is a gift."

"Modest," Jay said.

"Honest," Alexia corrected.

They eventually made it to the kitchen, made pasta together with lots of touching and stolen kisses, Alexia singing along to Rosalía's "Saoko" while she stirred sauce, Jay coming up behind her to wrap her arms around her waist and kiss her neck, both of them happy and content and so thoroughly in love it was almost disgusting.

And if Jay caught Alexia looking at the tickets, which they'd brought out to the living room and which were now sitting on the coffee table where Alexia could see them, with a smile that could light up the entire city of Barcelona, well.

That just confirmed that buying them had been exactly the right decision.

Worth every cent of the obscene amount of money they'd cost.

Worth anything to see Alexia that happy.

Two days later, they were having lunch at Eli's house.

It was a regular occurrence, as regular as anything could be in their chaotic lives of training and matches and travel and media obligations. Sunday lunch with Alexia's family, a tradition that Alexia refused to break unless absolutely necessary, usually because they were in another country for a match or a national team call up.

Eli would cook entirely too much food, absurd amounts, enough to feed probably fifteen people even though it was usually just the five or six of them, because that's what Spanish mothers did apparently, showed love through excessive amounts of food.

Alba would show up and immediately start teasing Alexia about something, anything, everything, because that's what little sisters did, found the thing most likely to embarrass their older siblings and poked at it repeatedly with gleeful enthusiasm.

And Jay would help set the table and try very, very hard not to eat all the appetisers before the actual meal started, though she failed at this approximately seventy percent of the time because Eli made these little croquetas that were absolutely incredible and Jay had zero self control around good food.

Today was no different.

Except Miriam was there too.

Alexia's best friend since childhood, partner in crime, the person who knew absolutely everything about Alexia because they'd grown up together, had gone through school together, had been there for every important moment of each other's lives.

Miriam was hilarious and kind and fiercely protective of Alexia in a way that Jay respected deeply, even though it had made their first meeting somewhat terrifying, Miriam clearly evaluating Jay to determine if she was good enough for her best friend.

Jay had apparently passed the test, because now Miriam greeted her with hugs and genuine smiles and included her in the group chat where she and Alba plotted ways to embarrass Alexia.

They'd bonded quickly over their shared goal of making sure Alexia was happy and loved and also occasionally keeping her from taking herself too seriously, from getting too deep in her own head about tactics and responsibility and the weight of being captain of both Barcelona and Spain.

Jay loved her, actually. Loved how she could make Alexia laugh, could pull her out of dark moods, could remind her that she was human and allowed to have fun and didn't have to be perfect all the time.

Everyone was gathered around Eli's dining table now, the large wooden one that had probably been in this house for decades, worn smooth by years of family meals and celebrations and regular Sunday lunches exactly like this one.

Plates were full of paella that smelled absolutely incredible, golden and fragrant with saffron and seafood and chicken, the rice perfectly cooked, slightly crispy on the bottom the way it was supposed to be.

There was salad, bright and fresh with tomatoes and olive oil. Fresh bread that was still warm from the bakery down the street, the crust crackling when you tore it. Olives and cheese and those little peppers that Jay had learned to love even though they were sometimes unexpectedly spicy.

Wine glasses were being refilled regularly by Eli, who seemed to have a sixth sense for when anyone's glass was getting low, appearing at their elbow with the bottle before they could even ask.

Conversation flowed in that comfortable, chaotic way that happened when you put this many opinionated people in one room, everyone talking over each other but somehow still following multiple conversations at once, switching between Spanish and English and occasionally Catalan in a way that used to make Jay's head spin but that she'd gotten used to.

Jay sat between Alexia and Alba, directly across from Miriam, with Eli at the head of the table looking pleased that everyone was eating well and enjoying themselves and clearly happy that her family was together.

The afternoon sun streamed through the windows, bright and warm, making the whole room feel golden, illuminating dust motes floating in the air, warming Jay's shoulders, making everything feel perfect and right.

Alexia's hand rested on Jay's thigh under the table, her thumb drawing small circles through the fabric of Jay's jeans, that absent-minded touch that she did constantly, unconsciously, like she couldn't sit next to Jay without touching her somehow.

Every few minutes, she'd lean over to press a kiss to Jay's temple, or squeeze her leg, or just look at her with an expression so soft and fond that it made Jay's chest feel tight.

Little touches that said I'm here, I love you, you're mine, I'm glad you're here.

Jay didn't mind at all.

Loved it, actually.

Loved that Alexia was so openly affectionate even in front of her family, had been from the very beginning, had never hidden their relationship or tried to downplay how much she cared.

Alba had made approximately fifteen comments about it over the past few months, about how Alexia couldn't keep her hands to herself, about how they were disgusting and too affectionate and needed to get a room.

But she always said it with a smile, clearly happy that her sister was happy, clearly approving of Jay even if she expressed it through relentless teasing.

"So," Miriam said, pointing her fork at Alexia with a knowing grin that suggested she knew something interesting and was about to share it with the entire table. "I heard you have exciting plans coming up."

Alexia's face lit up immediately, her whole expression transforming with genuine joy, with excitement so pure and uninhibited it made Jay fall in love with her all over again.

She turned to Jay first, before answering Miriam, because of course she did, because she always acknowledged Jay first, always made sure Jay knew she was included, was important, was part of everything.

Cupped Jay's face with one hand and kissed her cheek, quick and sweet and full of affection, before turning back to the table.

"Jay got me Rosalía tickets," she announced, and her hand squeezed Jay's thigh, possessive and proud and loving all at once. "VIP tickets. Fourth row centre. With a meet and greet pass. I get to actually meet her."

"NO WAY!" Miriam squealed, setting down her fork entirely, her eyes going wide with excitement. "When?! When is the concert?!"

"Next week," Alexia said, and she was practically vibrating with excitement now, her entire body animated, her hands gesturing as she talked. "November second. At the Palau Sant Jordi. And I get to meet her before the show. Actually talk to her. Get photos. I can't believe it's real."

She turned to Jay again, both hands coming up to cup Jay's face, pulling her in for a proper kiss, not caring that her entire family was watching, not caring about anything except showing Jay how much this meant to her.

"I still cannot believe you did this," she said against Jay's lips, kissing her again, and again, unable to stop. "You are amazing. So amazing. The best. I love you so much."

"You're welcome, baby," Jay said, smiling against her mouth, her hands coming up to rest on Alexia's waist. "I'm glad you're excited."

"I am so excited I think I might explode," Alexia said, kissing her one more time before pulling back, though her hand immediately returned to Jay's thigh, needing the contact.

"Get a room," Alba said from beside Jay, but she was grinning, clearly entertained. "We're trying to eat here."

"We have a room," Alexia shot back, not looking away from Jay, her eyes soft and warm and so full of love it made Jay's breathing difficult. "We have many rooms. An entire apartment full of rooms."

"Use those rooms then," Alba said. "Stop making out at the dinner table."

"Is lunch, not dinner," Alexia corrected, finally turning to look at her sister. "And I can kiss my girlfriend whenever I want. Is a free country."

"Technically it's an autonomous community," Alba said.

"Don't start," Eli warned, but she was smiling, clearly used to her daughters arguing about semantics.

"That's so sweet, cariño," Eli said, looking at Jay with genuine warmth and affection, the kind of look that made Jay feel accepted, loved, part of the family. "You are very thoughtful. Very kind. Alexia is lucky to have you."

"I'm the lucky one," Jay said, slightly embarrassed by the attention, feeling heat creep up her neck into her cheeks. "I just wanted to make her happy. That's all."

"Mission accomplished," Alexia said, leaning over to kiss Jay's cheek again, then her jaw, then right below her ear in that spot that made Jay shiver. "Very accomplished. Extremely accomplished. I am so happy."

Her hand slid further up Jay's thigh, dangerous territory, and Jay caught it, intertwining their fingers and bringing their joined hands to rest on top of the table where Alexia couldn't cause problems.

"Behave," Jay murmured.

"Never," Alexia whispered back, but she squeezed Jay's hand and settled back in her chair, leaving their hands linked on the table for everyone to see.

"About time you get to meet your celebrity crush," Miriam said casually, taking a sip of wine like she hadn't just dropped an actual bomb in the middle of Sunday lunch, like she hadn't just said something that made the entire table go silent.

The easy chatter died immediately.

Conversation stopped mid sentence.

Everyone turned to look at Miriam, then at Alexia, then at Jay.

Jay's head whipped around to stare at Alexia, her eyes widening, her hand tightening involuntarily on Alexia's.

"Your what?" she asked slowly, carefully, like she might have misheard, like surely Miriam had said something else, something that wasn't celebrity crush.

Alexia shot Miriam a glare that could have melted steel, could have burned holes through concrete, could have probably been registered as a weapon in several countries.

Her cheeks immediately flushed red, that particular shade that started at her chest and climbed up her neck into her face, the blush that meant she was flustered or embarrassed or both.

"I do not have a crush on Rosalía," she said firmly, her accent thickening significantly, the way it always did when she was emotional or upset or trying very hard to be convincing. "I like her music. That is different. That is not the same thing."

Her hand was still in Jay's, but it had gone tense, her fingers squeezing almost too tight.

"Oh please," Miriam said, waving her fork dismissively, clearly enjoying herself immensely, a huge grin spreading across her face. "You have had a crush on her for years. Like, actual years. Don't even try to deny it. I have evidence."

"I do NOT have a crush on her," Alexia insisted, her voice rising slightly, getting higher and more Spanish with each word. "I admire her music. I think she is talented. I like her songs. That is all. That is the only thing."

Jay's hand was still covered by Alexia's, but she didn't say anything, just watched with a carefully neutral expression, processing this information, trying to figure out how she felt about it.

Alexia had a crush on Rosalía.

Or used to have a crush on Rosalía.

Or maybe still had a crush on Rosalía.

And Jay had just bought her VIP tickets to meet her.

Perfect.

Just perfect.

"Sure you do, hermana," Alba chimed in, grinning wickedly from beside Jay, clearly delighted by this turn of events, unable to resist an opportunity to wind up her sister. "That's why you have like seventy photos of her saved on your phone. Because you just like the music. Obviously."

"That is for outfit inspiration!" Alexia protested, pulling her hand from Jay's to gesture emphatically, then immediately putting it back like she'd realised the mistake, like she needed the contact. "She has good style! I save photos for fashion reference! That is normal! That is what people do!"

"Outfit inspiration," Alba repeated skeptically, her tone dripping with disbelief, clearly not buying this for even half a second. "Right. Because you definitely need fashion inspiration from someone who wears leather pants and crop tops and chains. That's absolutely your style. Definitely."

"She has good style!" Alexia defended, getting more agitated, her free hand waving around. "She is creative! She takes risks! She has a vision!"

Then she seemed to realise she was arguing herself into a corner, and turned desperately to Jay, both hands coming up to cup Jay's face, her eyes pleading and apologetic and worried.

"Bebe, I don't have a crush on her," she said urgently, leaning in close, their faces inches apart. "I promise. I swear. Te lo juro. I just really like her music. That is all. You are my only crush. My only everything. Vale?"

She punctuated the words with kisses, quick desperate presses of her lips against Jay's, like she could kiss away the doubt, kiss away the worry, kiss away whatever Jay was feeling.

Forehead. Nose. Cheek. Lips. Lips again. Lips a third time.

Jay was very quiet, her jaw tight, processing this information, trying to organise her thoughts into something coherent.

Alexia had a crush on Rosalía.

Which meant Jay had just bought her VIP tickets to meet the person she had a crush on.

Which meant Alexia was going to meet a beautiful, talented, successful woman that she'd apparently been attracted to for years.

Perfect.

Absolutely perfect.

Just great.

"You have a crush on her," Jay said flatly, her voice carefully controlled, deliberately neutral.

"No, bebe, no, I don't," Alexia said quickly, frantically, her hands still cupping Jay's face, her thumbs stroking across Jay's cheekbones desperately. "I promise. I really promise. Please believe me. You have to believe me."

She kissed Jay again, longer this time, deeper, trying to convince her through touch alone.

"Okay," Alba said, leaning back in her chair with obvious satisfaction, clearly enjoying every second of this, her grin wide and wicked. "Fine. Maybe not NOW. But you definitely USED to have a crush on her. A big one. A massive one. Remember when El Mal Querer came out and you listened to it for like three months straight?"

"I... that was..." Alexia paused, seemed to realize she was trapped, that there was no good answer here, her mouth opening and closing as she tried to find words. "Maybe a very small one. Very tiny. Microscopic. Years ago. Before I even met Jay. It was nothing. It meant nothing."

She turned back to Jay, desperate now, both hands gripping Jay's face perhaps a bit too tightly.

"It was nothing compared to you, guapa. Nothing compared to what I feel for you. Not even close. Not even the same category of feelings. Vale? You understand? You are real. You are here. You are mine. That was just... just admiration. Just appreciation of talent. Nothing more."

She kissed Jay again, trying to prove her point, her lips insistent and pleading against Jay's.

"I'm selling the tickets," Jay announced, pulling back from the kiss, crossing her arms over her chest, her expression carefully blank.

She wasn't actually going to sell the tickets.

Probably.

Maybe.

She didn't know.

She was feeling things and needed a minute to process those feelings.

"What?! NO!" Alexia said, her eyes going wide with panic, her hands grabbing for Jay's arms. "Bebe, no, don't be ridiculous! You cannot sell them! Please don't sell them!"

"You have a crush on her," Jay repeated, and she knew she was being childish, knew she was being unreasonable, knew this was probably an overreaction, but she couldn't help it.

The thought of Alexia meeting someone she'd had a crush on, someone beautiful and talented and famous and successful, made something uncomfortable twist in her stomach, made her chest feel tight and wrong.

Jealousy.

She was jealous.

Which was stupid because Alexia loved her, had told her approximately seventeen thousand times, showed her every single day through actions and words and touches.

But apparently logic had no power over the weird possessive feeling currently taking up residence in her chest.

"HAD," Alexia corrected desperately, grabbing Jay's face again with both hands, forcing eye contact, her eyes intense and pleading. "Past tense. In the past. Many years ago. It was just... she's talented and I admired her work and maybe I thought she was attractive but that is ALL. I have never even met her. It was not real. It was a fantasy. A celebrity thing that everyone has. You are real. This is real. We are real."

She kissed Jay properly now, deep and intense and almost aggressive, pouring everything she had into it, trying to convince Jay through sheer force of affection.

When they broke apart, both breathing harder, Alexia rested her forehead against Jay's.

"Please don't sell the tickets," she whispered, her accent so thick Jay could barely understand her. "Please, amor. I want to go. I want to see her perform. But only because I love her music. Not because of any feelings. I promise. Te lo prometo."

"But Miriam said..." Jay started, her voice smaller now, some of the sulk leaving her tone but not all of it, her arms still crossed defensively.

"Miriam is exaggerating," Alexia interrupted, shooting her best friend another glare before turning back to Jay, her hands sliding down to grip Jay's arms. "She likes to make things bigger than they are. She likes drama. Yes, I liked Rosalía's music very much. Yes, maybe I thought she was talented and attractive. But that is all. You know I listen to her all the time. You have heard me sing along a million times. It is just music, bebe. Just appreciation of art."

"I know," Jay said, her voice even smaller now, and she could feel her resolve cracking, could feel herself starting to believe Alexia because Alexia's eyes were so sincere, so desperate, so full of love and worry.

Eli was watching this entire exchange with barely concealed amusement, her eyes dancing with laughter, one hand pressed to her mouth like she was trying not to smile too obviously at how adorable they were being, how young and in love and dramatic.

She caught Jay's eye across the table and winked, her expression warm and understanding and somehow reassuring.

It helped.

A little bit.

Not entirely, but a little bit.

"Jay," Alexia said, and her voice had gone very soft now, very gentle, the way it did when she was trying to be serious, when she needed Jay to really hear her. "Look at me. Please look at me, guapa."

Jay looked, even though she wanted to keep sulking, wanted to stay in this childish space where she could be irrationally jealous and upset.

But Alexia's eyes were so sincere, so worried, so full of love that Jay couldn't maintain the sulk.

"You are my only crush," Alexia said firmly, clearly, her hands still gripping Jay's arms, her thumbs stroking gently. "The only person I think about. The only person I want. The only person I dream about. Rosalía is just music, bebe. Just songs. Just entertainment. You are everything. My whole world. My whole life. Mi amor. Mi vida. Mi todo. You understand?"

She punctuated each sentence with a kiss.

Forehead.

Nose.

Right cheek.

Left cheek.

Lips, lingering this time, soft and sweet and full of promise.

"You promise?" Jay asked, hating how uncertain she sounded, how young and insecure, but she needed to hear it, needed the reassurance.

Her hands came up finally, resting on Alexia's waist, pulling her slightly closer.

"I promise," Alexia said, leaning forward to press their foreheads together, her hands sliding up to cup Jay's face again. "Te lo prometo. On everything. On my career. On my captaincy. On my Ballon d'Ors. On everything I love. You are it for me. Only you. Always you. Forever you. Sí?"

"Sí," Jay said quietly, and she felt the tightness in her chest start to ease, felt the uncomfortable jealous feeling start to fade.

"Sí?" Alexia repeated, needing confirmation, her eyes searching Jay's face.

"Yes," Jay confirmed, pulling Alexia in for a kiss that was probably too intense for family lunch but she didn't care, needed this, needed the reassurance, needed to feel Alexia's lips on hers and remember that this was real, that they were real.

The kiss was deep and claiming and maybe a bit desperate on both sides, Alexia's hands in Jay's hair, Jay's hands gripping Alexia's waist, both of them forgetting for a moment that they had an audience.

When they broke apart, both slightly breathless, slightly flushed, Alexia asked hopefully… “So you are not selling the tickets?"

"I'm not selling the tickets," Jay agreed, and Alexia's face split into a relieved, delighted smile that made Jay's remaining jealousy dissolve completely.

"Gracias, amor," Alexia said, kissing Jay again, then again, unable to stop now that she'd been reassured, now that the crisis had been averted. "Gracias gracias gracias. Te amo. Te amo tanto. So much. More than words."

"Love you too, baby," Jay murmured against her lips, kissing her back because she couldn't help it, because Alexia was right there and loving her and making it very clear that Jay was the only one she wanted.

"This is so cute I might actually vomit," Alba announced loudly, breaking the moment. "Like, genuinely. I might throw up. Right here at the table. This is too much."

"Don't ruin the moment," Eli chided, but she was smiling, her expression soft and fond as she watched her daughter so obviously in love.

"I'm not ruining anything," Alba protested. "I'm just stating facts. They are adorable and it makes me nauseous. Both things can be true simultaneously."

"You are just jealous," Miriam said, grinning at Alba across the table.

"I'm not jealous," Alba said. "I'm realistic. They have sex like five times a day minimum, they are constantly touching each other like they will die if they are not in physical contact, they look at each other like the other person hung the moon and stars. It's excessive. It's too much. It's disgusting."

"It is love," Eli corrected gently, her voice warm.

"It's disgusting," Alba maintained. "But also yes, fine, it's love. Both things. Simultaneously."

Alexia finally pulled back from Jay, though only far enough to glare at Alba, her hand immediately returning to Jay's thigh, squeezing possessively.

One hand intertwined with Jay's on top of the table, the other resting on her thigh under it, needing multiple points of contact.

"We do NOT have sex five times a day," she said, her cheeks flushing again at the public discussion of their sex life.

"Could have fooled me," Alba said, taking a bite of paella. "Every single time I call you, you sound breathless and suspicious. Every time I come over unannounced, which I have stopped doing by the way because the trauma was too much, you both look suspiciously dishevelled and flushed. And you literally cannot stop touching each other for five consecutive seconds."

"That is because you always come over at inappropriate times," Alexia shot back, her thumb stroking Jay's knuckles. "And you call at bad moments. That is your fault, not ours."

"There is no appropriate time with you two," Alba countered. "You are always either about to have sex, currently having sex, or just finished having sex. Or you are making out. Or touching. Or looking at each other like you want to devour each other whole. There is no safe time."

"Alba!" Eli said, but she was laughing now, her eyes crinkling at the corners with amusement.

"It's TRUE, Mami!" Alba insisted, gesturing emphatically with her fork. "Look at them RIGHT NOW! They are literally sitting so close they are practically in each other's laps and Alexia has not stopped touching Jay's face for the past five minutes! It's constant! It's unrelenting!"

"Can we please stop talking about our sex life at family lunch?" Alexia asked, though she did pull Jay closer, pressing a kiss to her temple, her hand tightening on Jay's thigh.

"You started it by being so obviously unable to keep your hands off each other," Miriam pointed out reasonably. "And so publicly affectionate. And so clearly obsessed with each other."

"We are not obsessed," Alexia protested weakly.

Everyone at the table just looked at her.

"Okay fine maybe a little bit obsessed," she admitted, then turned to Jay with a soft smile. "But is good obsession. Healthy obsession. Love obsession."

"Very healthy," Jay agreed, kissing her cheek. "The healthiest."

"See?" Alba said to the table at large. "They cannot even pretend to be normal. They have given up."

"Normal is overrated," Alexia said, leaning her head on Jay's shoulder, sighing contentedly.

"With you two, everything is connected to touching and sex and being disgustingly in love," Alba said, but there was affection in her voice now, warmth beneath the teasing.

"I hate you," Alexia said to her sister, but she was playing with Jay's fingers as she said it, bringing them to her lips for a soft kiss.

"No you don't," Alba said cheerfully. "You love me. Almost as much as you love Jay. But not quite, because apparently you love Jay enough to be physically attached to her at all times like you are conjoined."

"I'm leaving," Alexia announced, though she made absolutely no move to actually stand up, just kissed Jay's shoulder instead.

"Sit down and finish your lunch," Eli said, her voice carrying that particular maternal authority that made everyone listen immediately, that tone that said I am your mother and you will do what I say.

"Yes, Mami," Alexia said automatically, settling back into her chair but keeping both hands on Jay, unable or unwilling to break contact.

"Alba, stop teasing your sister about how affectionate she is with her girlfriend," Eli continued. "It is sweet. It is nice. It is good that she is happy and in love."

"But it's so easy to tease her!" Alba protested. "They make it SO EASY! They are constantly giving me material!"

"Stop anyway," Eli repeated firmly, though she was smiling at how Jay and Alexia had shifted closer together, were now whispering to each other, foreheads pressed together, completely in their own world.

"Fine," Alba grumbled, but she was grinning, clearly not actually upset.

Alexia turned back to her plate, but kept one hand firmly intertwined with Jay's on the table, bringing Jay's knuckles to her lips every few minutes for soft kisses, unable to help herself, unable to stop touching.

Her other hand stayed on Jay's thigh under the table, warm and possessive and grounding.

"Lo siento," she muttered to Jay quietly, leaning close so only Jay could hear. "Sorry. For my family being completely insane and embarrassing."

"Don't apologise," Jay said, squeezing her hand, turning to kiss Alexia's temple. "I love your family. Even when they're being insane and discussing our sex life at lunch."

"Even then?" Alexia asked, looking up at her with those beautiful eyes.

"Especially then," Jay said honestly, kissing her softly. "It means they're comfortable with me. That I'm part of the family. That they accept me."

Alexia's expression softened completely, melted into something so tender and loving it made Jay's chest ache.

"You are part of the family," she said quietly, urgently, reaching up to cup Jay's face with her free hand. "You know that, right? You are not just my girlfriend. You are family. You are ours. You belong here."

"I do now," Jay said, leaning down to kiss her properly, not caring about the audience, just needing to show Alexia how much that meant to her.

They finished lunch with significantly less teasing, though Alba and Miriam both made a few more comments about the Rosalía situation that made Alexia roll her eyes dramatically and grip Jay's hand tighter.

But Jay noticed that throughout the rest of the meal, Alexia kept finding ways to touch her, constant contact, reassurance through physical connection.

Their legs pressed together under the table, warm and solid.

Alexia's hand on Jay's thigh, fingers tracing absent patterns.

Fingers intertwined on top of the table where everyone could see, no hiding, no shame.

Occasional kisses to Jay's shoulder or cheek or temple, soft and sweet and casual.

Alexia leaning her head on Jay's shoulder while they talked, like she needed the contact, needed to be close.

Little reassurances.

Little reminders.

You're the one I want. You're the one I choose. You're the one that matters. You're my person.

When they said goodbye and headed to the car, when they'd hugged everyone and promised to come back next week, Alexia immediately pulled Jay in for a long, deep kiss against the car door, pressing her fully against the metal, both hands cupping her face.

"I love you," she said when they broke apart, breathing hard, her eyes intense and sincere. "Only you. You know that, right? You believe me?"

"I know," Jay said, smiling despite herself, her hands on Alexia's waist. "I believe you. I love you too, baby."

"Good," Alexia said, kissing her again, slower this time, deeper, taking her time about it. "Because you are stuck with me. Forever. For always. No escaping."

"Best place to be stuck," Jay said against her lips.

They drove home with Alexia's hand in Jay's the entire time, even when she needed to shift gears, just rearranging their grip but never letting go completely.

At every red light, Alexia would lean over to kiss Jay, soft and sweet and reassuring.

"I love you," she'd murmur between kisses.

"Love you too," Jay would respond.

"Only you."

"Only you too, babe."

And by the time they got home, by the time they were through the door and Alexia was pulling Jay toward the bedroom with clear intent in her eyes, Jay had completely forgotten to be jealous about a crush that may or may not have existed years ago and that definitely didn't exist now.

Because Alexia was hers.

Completely, totally, absolutely hers.

The way she kept reaching for Jay's hand.

The way she couldn't go more than five minutes without kissing her.

The way she pulled Jay close the moment they were through the door and didn't let go for the rest of the evening.

The way she made love to Jay slowly, thoroughly, whispering "te amo" and "only you" and "mi vida" between kisses, making absolutely certain Jay understood that she was the only one, the only person Alexia wanted, the only person who mattered.

And no amount of talented, beautiful, famous musicians could change that.

Not even close.

The week leading up to the concert passed in a blur of training and matches and regular life, but threaded through it all was Alexia's visible excitement about the upcoming show.

She talked about it constantly.

About what she was going to wear, trying on approximately fifteen different outfits and modelling them for Jay, spinning around in the bedroom asking "does this look okay? Or is it too much? Should I wear the leather pants or the jeans? Is this shirt too casual?"

About what she might say if she actually got to meet Rosalía during the meet and greet, practicing casual conversation starters in the bathroom mirror while doing her makeup, which made Jay laugh because Alexia was usually so smooth and confident and composed but apparently meeting someone whose music she loved turned her into a nervous teenager.

"I could say something about Motomami being revolutionary," Alexia would practice to her reflection. "Or maybe about how El Mal Querer changed flamenco fusion. Or is that too intense? Should I just say I love her music? But that is boring. Everyone says that. I need to be interesting. Memorable."

"Baby, just be yourself," Jay would say from the doorway, smiling at how adorable Alexia was being. "She'll love you."

"You have to say that," Alexia would respond. "You are my girlfriend. You are biased."

"I'm extremely biased," Jay would agree. "But also correct. You're amazing. She'll be lucky to meet you."

And Alexia would turn from the mirror to kiss her, grateful and nervous and so excited she practically vibrated with it.

Jay found it endearing.

All of it.

Even though there was still a tiny part of her that was maybe, possibly, slightly jealous.

A very tiny part.

Minuscule, really.

Practically microscopic.

Definitely not worth mentioning or thinking about or worrying over.

She was fine.

Totally fine.

Completely fine.

"You should come with me," Alexia said the night before the concert, while they were getting ready for bed, while Jay was brushing her teeth and Alexia was taking off her jewellery.

Alexia came up behind her, wrapping her arms around Jay's waist, resting her chin on Jay's shoulder, meeting her eyes in the mirror.

Pressing soft kisses to Jay's shoulder, her neck, right behind her ear.

"To the concert?" Jay asked around her toothbrush, leaning back into Alexia's warmth.

"Sí, bebe," Alexia said, her hands splaying across Jay's stomach, her thumbs stroking gently. "I have two tickets. You should come with me. We can go together. It will be fun."

Jay rinsed her mouth, dried her face, turned in Alexia's arms to face her properly.

"I don't really know her music that well," she said, wrapping her arms around Alexia's neck. "Like, I know the songs you play all the time because you play them constantly. But I don't know the deep cuts or the album tracks or anything like that. And I definitely don't speak enough Spanish to understand what she's actually singing about. I'd just be confused the whole time."

"So?" Alexia asked, pulling her closer, their bodies flush from chest to thigh. "You can still come. You can still enjoy it. The performance is amazing even if you don't understand all the words. She is incredible live. And I want you there. I want to experience it with you."

Jay considered it, genuinely considered it, looking at Alexia's hopeful expression.

Then shook her head, leaning in to kiss Alexia softly.

"You should take Miriam," she said. "She actually knows all the music. She speaks Spanish. She's your best friend. You'll have way more fun with her than with me standing there confused."

"But I want to go with you," Alexia insisted, her hands sliding under Jay's shirt, resting warm on her lower back. "You are my girlfriend. I want to share this with you."

"And I want you to have the best time possible," Jay said, kissing her again, longer this time. "Which means going with someone who will actually appreciate it properly. Take Miriam. Fangirl together. Scream the lyrics. Take lots of photos. Have the best time. I'll be here when you get home."

"You are sure?" Alexia asked, her eyes searching Jay's face, looking for any sign of hurt or upset.

"I'm completely sure, baby," Jay said, meaning it, mostly meaning it, okay maybe ninety five percent meaning it. "Go have fun. You deserve it. You deserve to enjoy this without worrying about whether I'm having a good time or understanding anything."

"You are the best," Alexia said, pulling her in for a deep kiss, grateful and loving and intense. "The absolute best. The most thoughtful. The most perfect. I love you so much, guapa."

"Love you too," Jay said against her lips, letting Alexia walk her backwards toward the bed, letting Alexia show her exactly how grateful she was, letting the conversation dissolve into touches and kisses and murmured endearments in two languages.

"Let me show you how much I love you," Alexia murmured, her hands already working at the hem of Jay's shirt. "Let me make you feel good, sí?"

"Sí," Jay agreed breathlessly.

And Alexia did, taking her time, worshipping Jay's body with her mouth and hands until Jay forgot about concerts and musicians and anything that wasn't the feeling of Alexia loving her exactly like this.

The night of the concert arrived faster than Jay expected.

She helped Alexia get ready, sitting on the bed watching as Alexia tried on the outfit they'd finally decided on after much deliberation.

Black jeans that hugged her legs perfectly, a burgundy top that made her skin glow, her hair down and wavy, minimal jewellery, just the necklace Jay had given her for their six month anniversary that she wore constantly now.

"You look beautiful," Jay said, and it was true, Alexia looked absolutely stunning, radiant with excitement.

"You think so?" Alexia asked, turning to look at herself in the mirror, smoothing down the top. "Is not too much? Or too little? Should I change?"

"Don't you dare," Jay said, standing up to wrap her arms around Alexia from behind, meeting her eyes in the mirror. "You're perfect. Absolutely perfect. She's going to love you."

"You have to say that," Alexia said, but she was smiling, leaning back into Jay's embrace. "You are my girlfriend."

"I'm saying it because it's true," Jay corrected, pressing a kiss to Alexia's shoulder. "You're gorgeous and funny and charming and she'd be crazy not to love you."

Alexia turned in Jay's arms, cupped her face, kissed her deeply.

"Come with me," she said one more time. "Please? I want you there."

"I want you to go with Miriam and have the best time," Jay said firmly, kissing her again. "Seriously. Go. Have fun. I'll be here when you get back."

Miriam picked Alexia up at seven, both of them giddy with excitement, talking over each other about the setlist they hoped for, what songs would be incredible live, whether Rosalía might do any special surprises.

At the door, Alexia turned back to Jay, pulling her in for one last long kiss that tasted like promise and love and coming home.

"Have fun, baby," Jay said when they broke apart. "I love you. Text me when you meet her."

"I will," Alexia promised, cupping Jay's face and kissing her again, and again, unable to stop. "Te amo. So much. So so much."

"Love you too," Jay said, kissing her one more time. "Now go before you're late."

She watched from the window as Alexia got into Miriam's car, watched as they drove away, watched until the taillights disappeared around the corner.

Then she was alone.

In Alexia's apartment.

While Alexia was at a concert.

Meeting someone she might have had a crush on.

Perfect.

Jay tried to distract herself.

Did laundry, folding Alexia's training clothes carefully, hanging up the shirt Alexia had worn yesterday that still smelled like her perfume.

Watched a match replay, Barcelona's game against Madrid from last month, trying to focus on the tactics, on the play development, on anything except where Alexia was and what she was doing.

Made herself dinner, pasta with the sauce Alexia had made last weekend that was still in the fridge, eating while standing at the counter because sitting at the table alone felt too sad.

Tried to read, picked up the book on her nightstand, read the same page four times without absorbing any of it.

She was fine.

Totally fine.

Not thinking about Alexia meeting Rosalía at all.

Definitely not imagining them talking and laughing together.

Not worrying about Alexia realising that Rosalía was even more amazing in person than she'd imagined.

Not at all.

She was completely, totally, absolutely fine.

Around ten thirty, her phone started vibrating continuously.

Notifications.

Lots of them.

Twitter. Instagram. Multiple people tagging her.

Jay opened Instagram with a growing sense of dread, her stomach sinking, knowing what she was going to see before she even saw it.

And there it was.

Photos of Alexia and Rosalía.

Multiple photos.

Professionally taken, well lit, clearly from backstage at the venue.

Rosalía had her arm around Alexia's shoulders in one, both of them smiling at the camera, genuine bright smiles, looking comfortable and happy.

Another photo of them talking, Alexia's face animated and excited, her hands gesturing the way they did when she was enthusiastic about something, Rosalía watching her with an amused smile.

Another of them laughing together, heads thrown back, Rosalía's hand on Alexia's arm, casual and friendly and way too comfortable for two people who had just met.

They looked good together.

Really good.

Both beautiful and successful and talented.

Both Spanish, sharing the same language, the same culture, the same background.

The photos were innocent.

Completely innocent.

Just two people who admired each other's work, having a conversation, taking pictures together at a meet and greet.

But Jay's stomach still did an uncomfortable flip looking at them, a sick feeling spreading through her chest.

At how happy Alexia looked, genuine joy on her face.

At how beautiful Rosalía was in person, even more stunning than in photos.

At how comfortable they seemed together even though they'd apparently just met minutes ago.

Her phone buzzed with a text, pulling her out of the spiral.

Alexia: Bebe!!! I met her!!! She is so nice!!! So kind!!! We talked about football and music and she said she loves watching Barcelona play!!! Thank you thank you thank you for these tickets I love you so much ❤️❤️❤️

Jay smiled despite the weird uncomfortable feeling in her stomach, despite the jealousy she was trying very hard not to feel.

Jay: I'm so glad you're having fun! You look really happy in the photos people are posting

Alexia: You saw??? She is amazing!! So talented!! But not as amazing as you. Nobody is as amazing as you. Can't wait to come home and kiss you and tell you everything ❤️

Jay: Can't wait either baby. Love you

Alexia: Te amo más ❤️❤️ See you soon guapa

Jay locked her phone, set it face down on the couch, told herself firmly that she was being ridiculous.

She was.

Being completely, utterly ridiculous.

Alexia loved her. Alexia had told her approximately ten thousand times, had shown her every single day through actions and words and touches and looks and everything.

Had texted her even in the middle of meeting someone she admired just to tell Jay she loved her, just to make sure Jay knew that nobody compared to her.

This was just a celebrity meet and greet.

A fan meeting someone whose work they admired.

Nothing more.

Jay knew that.

Logically, rationally, she knew that.

But the uncomfortable feeling in her stomach, the tight anxious feeling in her chest, didn't go away.

She went to bed early, around eleven, not because she was tired but because she didn't want to be awake when Alexia got home.

Didn't want to have to pretend she wasn't feeling weird about the whole thing.

Didn't want Alexia to see her face and immediately know something was wrong because Alexia could read her like a book, could tell what she was feeling just by looking at her.

Better to just sleep it off.

Wake up tomorrow and this would all seem silly and she'd laugh at herself for being jealous over nothing.

She changed into her sleep clothes, brushed her teeth, washed her face, climbed into Alexia's bed because she'd been staying here more often than her own apartment lately.

Lay there in the dark, staring at the ceiling, trying not to think about Alexia and Rosalía laughing together.

Trying not to imagine them exchanging numbers.

Trying not to worry that maybe Alexia would realise that she could have someone more interesting, more successful, more talented, more Spanish.

Eventually, exhaustion won out over anxiety, and Jay drifted off to sleep.

She didn't hear Alexia come home around midnight.

Didn't hear her moving quietly through the apartment, trying not to wake Jay, putting her bag down by the door, kicking off her shoes.

Didn't hear her pause in the doorway of the bedroom, standing there in the darkness, just watching Jay sleep.

But Alexia stood there for a long time.

Several minutes at least.

Just looking at Jay.

At the way her face was soft and unguarded in sleep, peaceful, all the tension of the day smoothed away.

At the way her hair was messy on the pillow, blonde strands catching the streetlight coming through the window.

At the way she was curled on her side, one arm thrown over Alexia's pillow, like even in sleep she was reaching for her.

Alexia felt something enormous swell in her chest, something so big and overwhelming it almost hurt.

Love, yes, obviously love, but more than that.

Gratitude.

Awe.

Wonder.

The overwhelming, almost painful realisation that she had somehow gotten impossibly, incredibly, absurdly lucky.

Jay had bought her those tickets for no reason other than knowing they would make her happy.

Had spent ridiculous amounts of money just to see Alexia smile.

Had encouraged her to take Miriam even though Alexia knew, knew with absolute certainty, that Jay had been at least a little bit jealous about the whole Rosalía thing, about the stupid crush that had never been real, that had been nothing compared to what she felt for Jay.

Had sent her off with kisses and smiles and genuine excitement for her to have a good time, putting Alexia's happiness above her own discomfort.

The concert had been incredible.

Genuinely, amazingly, spectacularly incredible.

Rosalía's voice live was even better than on the albums, powerful and emotional and technically perfect.

The staging had been stunning, dramatic and beautiful and creative.

The energy of the crowd had been electric, everyone singing along, everyone moving, everyone completely absorbed in the performance.

Meeting Rosalía had been surreal and amazing and everything Alexia had hoped it would be.

She'd been kind and funny and genuine, had talked to Alexia about football, had said she loved watching Barcelona play, had asked thoughtful questions about tactics and training.

They'd talked about music, about the creative process, about inspiration and hard work and the pressure of being at the top of your field.

Had taken photos together, had exchanged contact information, had promised to stay in touch.

It had been perfect.

A perfect night.

A perfect experience.

A perfect memory.

But standing here, looking at Jay asleep in her bed, Alexia realised something with absolute clarity.

Nothing, no concert, no celebrity meeting, no experience in the world, no matter how amazing or perfect or incredible, compared to this.

To coming home to Jay.

To the life they'd built together.

To the person who loved her enough to buy her VIP tickets to meet someone she'd maybe had a tiny crush on years ago, and who did it without hesitation, without conditions, without expecting anything in return, just because making Alexia happy was what mattered most.

Alexia quietly got ready for bed, moving carefully in the dark so she wouldn't wake Jay.

Showered, washing off the concert smell of sweat and perfume and thousands of people packed into one venue, the smell of smoke machines and stage lights and excitement.

Changed into one of Jay's oversized t shirts, the one that Jay had brought from England and that Alexia had immediately claimed as her own, that smelled like Jay's laundry detergent and faintly like Jay herself.

Brushed her teeth, took off her makeup, went through her entire routine on autopilot, her mind still on the woman sleeping in the other room.

Then she carefully, slowly, trying not to disturb her, climbed into bed beside Jay.

Immediately curled into her side, fitting herself against Jay's body the way she always did, the way they'd perfected over eight months of sleeping together.

Her head on Jay's chest.

One leg hooking over Jay's thigh.

One arm wrapping around Jay's waist.

Home.

This was home.

Not the concert, as incredible as it had been.

Not the photos with Rosalía, as surreal and amazing as that was.

Not the music or the lights or the crowd or any of it.

This.

Jay's arms.

Jay's warmth.

Jay's heartbeat steady under her ear.

This was home.

But she couldn't help herself, couldn't resist reaching out, her fingers gentle and careful, tracing the line of Jay's jaw softly.

Just needing to touch her.

To confirm she was real and here and Alexia's.

Then her cheekbone, feather light.

Then she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Jay's shoulder, then another slightly higher, then another on her collarbone.

Unable to stop herself.

Needing the contact like she needed air.

Jay stirred, her eyes fluttering open, unfocused and sleepy and confused.

"Hey, babe," she mumbled, her voice rough with sleep, thick and slow. "You're home."

"Hola, guapa," Alexia whispered, leaning over her to press a gentle kiss to her lips, soft and sweet and full of love. Then another because one wasn't enough. Then a third because she'd missed this, missed Jay, even though she'd only been gone a few hours.

"Did you have a good time?" Jay asked, her eyes already drifting closed again, but her arm came around Alexia automatically, instinctively, pulling her close even half asleep.

"Sí, bebe," Alexia said quietly, pressing more kisses to Jay's face, her jaw, her neck, anywhere she could reach without moving too much. "Gracias. Thank you. It was amazing. Perfect. Everything I hoped for."

Jay smiled, just a small curve of her lips, and hummed contentedly, a soft sound of satisfaction.

"Good," she mumbled. "I'm glad. So glad you're happy."

Her eyes closed fully, her breathing starting to even out again, sleep pulling her back under before Alexia could say anything else.

Alexia watched her for a moment, this beautiful, generous, slightly jealous woman who loved her so completely, so unconditionally, so perfectly.

Then she settled down beside her properly, curling into Jay's side, pressing as close as physically possible, resting her head on her chest, listening to the steady reliable beat of her heart.

Her hand splayed across Jay's stomach, needing the contact, needing to feel the rise and fall of her breathing, needing to know she was here and real and Alexia's.

Jay's arm came around her tighter, even in sleep, pulling her impossibly closer, like even unconscious she needed Alexia as close as possible.

And Alexia closed her eyes, breathing in Jay's familiar scent, feeling the warmth of her body, pressing one more kiss to her collarbone, and thought about how this was everything.

Everything that mattered.

Everything that was real.

Everything she needed.

"Te amo," she whispered into the dark, so quietly Jay couldn't possibly hear even if she was awake. "Te amo tanto, guapa. So much. You have no idea. You are my everything. My whole world. Only you. Forever only you."

Jay didn't respond, already deep in sleep.

But her arm tightened around Alexia just slightly, just a fraction, pulling her even closer if that was possible.

And that was enough.

More than enough.

Everything, actually.

Alexia fell asleep with a smile on her face, wrapped around the person she loved most in the world, the concert already fading into a happy memory, replaced by the feeling of being exactly where she was supposed to be.

Home.

With Jay.

Where she could touch her and kiss her and hold her and be held and know with absolute certainty that this was real, this was forever, this was everything that mattered.

Forever.

Always.

Only this.

Only her.

Only Jay.

[wosospacegirl]

ALEXIAAA

[wosopty]

ASDFGHJKLKJHGFDSA Everyone say "thank you, Kika"

[plqnetputellas]

gorgeous woman = instagram posts to look forward to

[vicposter]

shes gay AND european

[starsjulia]

shadows of strength // leah williamson x putellas!reader

a/n : i saw a tiktok saying “trying to explain clinical depression to someone who has only ever been sad over boys” and thats what this is loosely based of

warnings : clinical depression, brief mentions of self harm, all in all very angsty

The soft hum of rain pattered against the window as Leah sat on the edge of the bed, her eyes darting between her phone and the door. The clock ticked steadily, each second louder than the last, thudding in her chest like a drumbeat of dread. She’d been in this room with you so many times, watching movies, sharing quiet conversations, or just basking in the warm silence. But tonight, the air was cold and suffocating, heavy with something she couldn’t quite name.

“babe?” Leah called out, voice straining to sound steady. It cracked under the weight of the silence that followed.

She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, fingers gripping each other so tightly they turned white.

The seconds bled into minutes. Finally, the bathroom door creaked open. You emerged slowly, eyes downcast, your sleeves pushed up ever so slightly and just enough for Leah to see the fresh, angry red lines etched into your skin. Leah’s breath caught in her throat, her vision blurring for a moment as the realization sunk in.

“Y/N,” she whispered, reaching out, her fingers trembling. You flinched, stepping back instinctively, your eyes darting away, the flush of shame painting your cheeks. It was as if the distance between you grew impossibly wide, despite standing only feet apart.

Leah’s mind raced, panic surging through her veins like ice. This wasn’t the first time she’d seen you hurting, but this... this felt different. More desperate. More final. She had never felt so helpless, so terrified. Her fingers fumbled for her phone, and before she could second-guess herself, she dialed the one number she knew could make a difference.

“Hello?” Alexia’s voice was sharp, guarded. Even through the phone, Leah could sense the tension that came with their strained relationship. The two of them had never been close; Alexia was fiercely protective, wary of Leah’s intentions and the age gap between you. But none of that mattered now.

“Alexia, it’s—it’s Leah. I’m sorry, but I need you to come. Now,” Leah stammered, her voice cracking under the weight of fear. The silence on the other end stretched for what felt like an eternity.

“Is she—” Alexia’s tone shifted, her voice tight with barely restrained panic.

“I don’t know,” Leah admitted, tears slipping down her cheeks. “But I’m scared.”

The line went dead, and Leah sat there, the phone slipping from her grasp as she turned her gaze back to you. You were sitting on the edge of the couch now, arms wrapped around yourself as if trying to hold the pieces of your mind together.

---

Alexia arrived in record time, storming into the flat with the fierce determination of someone who had fought this war before. She’d seen the darkness that clung to you, the way it would consume you until there was almost nothing left. The sight of you now, pale and shaking, made her heart seize. She dropped to her knees in front of you, pulling you into her arms without hesitation.

“Hermana pequeña, I’m here,” she whispered, her voice breaking, fingers brushing your hair back from your face. You crumbled into her, sobs tearing from your chest as the walls you’d so carefully built shattered.

Leah stood back, arms wrapped tightly around herself, watching the scene with a gnawing sense of inadequacy. She felt like an outsider, powerless to help the person she loved most. The guilt was suffocating.

“I can’t do this,” you mumbled into Alexia’s shoulder, voice raw and broken. “It’s too much.”

Alexia’s face tightened, a flash of fear crossing her features before she buried it under a mask of strength. “I know, mi amor. I know how dark it gets. But you are not alone, do you hear me? We’re going to get through this.”

Leah’s heart thudded painfully in her chest. She stepped forward, finally finding her voice. “Y/N, I want to help. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

You looked up at her, eyes rimmed with red, haunted and hollow. The pain there was deeper than anything Leah had ever known. It was more than sadness; it was a void, an emptiness that threatened to pull you under.

Alexia’s gaze softened as she looked at Leah. The rivalry, the unspoken judgment—none of it mattered in this moment.

“Leah,” she said, voice weary but kind. “Sit with us.”

Leah hesitated, then moved to sit beside you. The room was silent except for the steady drumming of rain against the window.

“I don’t know how to help her,” Leah admitted, eyes glistening. “I don’t understand this. I’ve never... I don’t know how it feels.”

Alexia’s eyes met Leah’s, and for the first time, there was no resentment, only understanding. “Clinical depression isn’t just sadness. It’s not something you can shake off or fix with kind words. It’s an illness, relentless and consuming. It turns every thought against you, makes you feel like there’s no way out.”

Leah swallowed hard, the weight of Alexia’s words pressing down on her. She looked at you, your body curled into itself, eyes squeezed shut as if warding off the storm inside.

“But there is a way out, right?” Leah’s voice was barely a whisper, laced with desperation.

Alexia’s expression softened. “There is, but it’s a fight. Some days, just getting out of bed is a victory. Other days, it feels impossible. What she needs isn’t for you to fix her; she needs you to be here, to hold on when she can’t.”

Leah reached for your hand, her touch gentle but firm. “I’m here,” she repeated, more sure of herself this time. “We’ll get through this. Together.”

The rain continued to drum against the window, a steady reminder of the storm outside. But inside, surrounded by the fragile bond of love and understanding, a small spark of hope began to flicker.

[chrlvctius]

sanctuary

alexia putellas x reader fic!!

> soo angsty with a fluff at the end!! keeping my promises fr ‼️‼️

Your pov:

Your limbs went limp as one of the things you had always wanted slid through your hands as the final whistle blew, and it felt as though your heart took its final beat.

That hurt. You felt constricted and compressed due to exhaustion and emotion. You felt so little and helpless. You began to hear voices in your head, including those of your parents, siblings, and other family members. How would they react to this?

As multiple sounds erupted around the stadium, you collapsed to the ground with your head firmly buried into your lap while breathing deeply. Barcelona did win, but you fell up short. When Alexia scored the final goal, you were already defeated. You were supposed to own that. You were meant to be the one.

With tears in your eyes, you watched as Keira, Lucy, and Pina approached Alexia and embraced her. You were exhaling heavily and making an effort to stop your tears from falling to the ground by looking up at the sky. This was extremely unfortunate. Others would express their pride in you to you, but none of that would truly matter. Barcelona did win, but you came up short. It's always been you against the world.

You were the valued possession of your family. What's not to brag about when you're in Barcelona playing football with other professionals?

Before Alexia, you weren't used to coming in second in everything.

You hated her so much. She was competent and well-versed in every move, tackle, and technique, which you hated. You hated that others gave her some of the attention that was intended for you but went to her instead since she was always one step ahead of you. She was incredibly skilled, and you hated how well she played in every match. You hated the fact that she never made a mistake and was always perfect.

This was the only way you could prove your worth. You were in desperate need of this. You had to get everything just right. You needed to do better. Without this, you are nothing. Nothing worthy. The only thing that distinguishes you from the rest of your family was your love of football. It was the only thing that gave you life and made you feel seen.

Having this taken away from you entirely breaks you. You were only good at one thing that stood out.

You were never good at anything other than this. It's the only thing that has made you worthy. You truly have nothing and are nothing without this. You get deeply disappointed when you see someone doing something better than you have always done. When will the world stop taking things away from you?

You didn't see ona approaching you as you were looking up at the sky trying to stop your tears from falling to the ground. Ona sat next to you and simply looked at you, her eyes filled with pity.

She wrapped her hand around your shoulders and murmured, "Y/n.."

I looked at her with watery eyes. I probably looked completely worn out at this moment. with unkempt hair, glossy eyes, and bags under my eyes.

I replied "No, ona" despite the feeling of shaking in my voice.

I sigh and bury my face in the crook of her neck, "I hate this, I hate her so much. Why does it always have to be like this, why does this always happen to me?"

"I'm so sorry, y/n. I know that anything I say right now won't really change anything of what's just happened and i'm really sorry," Ona says while stroking my hair and kissing the top of my head.

For a while, Ona comforts me, and only then, when things began to feel lighter, did we stand up and follow the others to the changing room, with Ona promising to stay by my side the entire time I'm in there.

Alexia’s pov:

I was quite proud of the goals I received today. I was the happiest person alive after scoring that final goal because everyone appeared to be participating together. The girls approached and gave me many hugs and compliments.

"Congratulations, Ale! You deserve it", lucia said and stroked my shoulder, but Keira only gave me a hug and a tender whisper. Everyone was pleased, and Pina couldn't stop jumping and running around.

Not until I noticed y/n sitting down and ona seated next to her. I became aware that something was wrong at that point. Ona kept looking at me, and all I could see was pity.

I arched my eyebrows at her as if to indicate or inquire about what was wrong, but all Ona did was shake her head and keep rubbing Y/N's back. I began to feel strange and uneasy. All of a sudden, everything felt incredibly slow, and I was unable to make out any of the words that my teammates or the crowd were chanting. Right now, y/n was all that mattered to me.

I had never before seen her in such a state. She looked extremely weak and defeated. It made me feel weak as well. I felt weak after seeing her weak, and that wasn't nice.

"I think you have something to talk out with y/n," said Lucy and Mapi as they drew nearer to me and also glanced at Ona and Y/N.

I simply nodded, but it was so clear that I appeared absolutely off and weak as I immediately headed for the changing rooms.

As soon as Ona and I entered the changing room, everyone turned to stare at me, and it was evident that everyone felt sorry for me. As I was making my way to the showers, everyone started patting me on the back. At this time, I didn't really give a shit. I felt so worthless and numb.

What had been seconds changed to minutes, and those to hours. I didn't even notice or hear Ona tapping on the glass door and telling me she'll be gone because she needs to tend to things.

I was just staring at the wall, tears streaming down my cheeks. I didn't know what to do anymore. I didn't know what to say to my family. I can already hear my father telling me how much of a disgrace I am to our family.

I almost had it. I had it in my grasp but couldn't keep it. I hate the fact that there is always an "almost" in everything I do. "Almost had it" , "Almost perfect" , "Almost" . It frustrates me because no matter how hard I try, nothing ever works out. I tried my hardest at everything, yet I always ended up being average. I hate the fact that every time I was ultimately seen by everyone, there were only fleeting moments of recognition.

I hate how Alexia doesn't even have to try that hard, whereas I have to try my hardest.

I gave everything I had just to be seen. I've always been second, third, or last in line to my siblings. Every time I'm second to Alexia, my stomach drops. Everything I do is never enough, and all of my efforts are never reciprocated. I hate how I'm always giving but never getting anything in return. I hate how I'm always the second option, the background person, the ignored side character. No matter what I do, I can never really be enough for anyone, and I hate how invisible I become when I lose "something."

Having to go through this again literally kills me. I wish I had never felt this way because I hate it. I hate feeling this way. I hate how depressed I am and how the universe is against me. How it weakens me to the point where I am unable to do anything. I poured my heart and soul into that match. I gave my blood, sweat, and tears for nothing in the end.

After what seemed like hours, I stepped from the shower, still wearing my robe, and was taken aback to see alexia seated on the bench near my locker. She looked up at me with concern in her eyes, and she stood up and approached me, and I just stood there, not knowing what to do since I didn't want to see her or talk to her after what happened.

"y/n," she said as she approached me. Even after hours of showering, I probably looked like crap. I knew this wasn't going to go well with my eyes red and puffy, and possibly still tearing up.

I walked past her, but she grabbed my wrist. "What do you need, alexia?" I asked back, and she glanced at me with concern.

"I just got concerned about you, i wanted to check up on you after seeing you and ona sitting on the pitch awhile ago"

"Oh, so you do see?" I joked, laughing a little.

"What do you mean? I don't understand," alexia replied, still clutching my wrist.

"You know, now isn't a good time to talk to me," I muttered, attempting to free my wrist from her clutches, but she drew me in closer.

"No, tell me what's wrong. What happened back there? What's wrong with you?" she said, and just hearing someone ask if I was okay made me want to ball my eyes out since that question will always have a major effect on me.

I pulled my wrist from her grasps and turned around, keeping calm. "You really want to know, huh?" I asked, although it was plain in my voice that I was about to burst out bawling.

"Yes, I do want to know, y/n. Tell me what's wrong," she begged pleadingly.

Still turned around, fresh tears welled up in my eyes for what seemed like the thousandth time today. "That goal was supposed to be mine; it was meant for me, but you took it away," I cried out, my voice quivering with dismay and rage. I never intended to yell or shout at her in that manner, but it just seemed right. I've never been someone who likes to yell. Whenever something bad happened, I handled it correctly and kept silent, but doing this just seemed right. I didn't care who heard me yell or anything; all I wanted to do was express my outrage.

"I know how you feel," she responded, and I screamed back, "No, you don't! You'll never know how I feel, you'll never know what this feels like because you're not in my place," I cried, tears flowing down my face. I cried as I punched her chest in an attempt to push her away, but she just stayed there, letting me punch her chest while crying.

"You'll never know how it feels like to keep on trying and trying and nothing really happening, you'll never feel the need to try harder because you're already the best, you don't even have to fucking try, alexia! You don't!" I shouted as I stared at her and breathed deeply.

She looked at me and licked her lips as she tried to figure out what to say. "Trust me, I've been there, y/n. I know how heavy and painful it is to lose and to let people down. I've been there, I promise you. I've done that a lot of times already. I may not know what you're feeling right now, I may not know what you want to do but all I want is to be here with you because I've been there. I've see all of it"

"All I want is to be here for you because no one has ever been," she added as I turned my back on her and faced the locker again.

I was still turned around, crying, and leaning against the locker when I heard footsteps approaching and felt two arms circling my waist and squeezing me tightly. I didn't stop her because I didn't have the energy to do so anymore. I was just tired, numb, and exhausted. I was tired of others controlling me, invalidating me, telling me what to do and what not to do, and I was tired of my family's expectations of me. I just wanted to breathe and feel like the world wasn't always against me.

I relaxed into Alexia's touch, turned around to face her, held her, and cried while hiding my face in the crook of her neck.

I just kept crying while hugging her, and she just stood there stroking my hair and whispered words into my ears to calm me down. I felt like I poured all of my pain into my eyes as I cried.

I'm not normally a fan of physical interaction, but Alexia hugging me like this felt just right. It felt so right. It surprised me since everything felt right when she hugged me. Everything felt right. I felt comfortable and secure in her arms.

Being in her arms felt just right. I was the perfect fit for her, and she was the perfect fit for mine. The moment Alexia hugged me, all the voices in my head stopped yelling. It was as though a switch had been flipped. It seemed as if the world had come to a stop and nothing else mattered. Being in her arms felt like home, and I swear, I have no idea what home feels like because mine never did, but I just knew that this felt so much like home. This has to be it.

I had stopped crying after about an hour, but I was still in her arms, and I didn't want to let go. I was afraid that if I did, all the voices would return to haunt me.

Alexia took a thorough glance at me and examined my face, as if she was memorising every detail of my face, before softly smiling. "I'm sorry that you feel this way and I'd do anything to make you feel better, I really do." She went on to say, "No one should ever treat you like this, no one should ever feel like this. I may not know what problems you have with your family but you don't deserve all that treatment from them"

She caressed my face, and just by doing so, new fresh tears flowed because I'd been wanting for someone to do this for god knows how long. "You are enough, you are more than enough," she says, cupping my face.

"I've seen how hard you worked this season and I couldn't be more proud of you. If you felt like you didn't do much, I know you did. From the bottom of my heart, I know. I've been with you the whole time, y/n," she added, her eyes welling up with tears.

She hugged me, and I hugged her back with all I had, and she laughed when she realised how hard I hugged her back.

"I'm not going anywhere, y/n, I'll stay with you," she said, to which I answered, "I know you will, I'm just testing the waters here," and she and I both giggled.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you, ale," I whispered, putting my face in the crook of her neck.

I felt her smile when she heard me call her by the nickname that our friends called her, and I can assure you that I have never used that nickname on her.

"Get dressed, okay? And then I'll take you out to dinner," she added as she kissed my head. I nodded and followed her instructions.

After getting dressed, she extended her hand, which I gladly accepted. I intertwined our fingers and left.

"Is this a date?" I joked, and she grinned and drew me in closer.

"Only if you want it to be," she chuckled and kissed my cheek, and we both laughed and proceeded to walk with our hands firmly interlaced, never letting go.

I'm actually proud of this, what 😭😭 nah but fr ! I hope y'all enjoyed this coz I did HELPPP angst is defi my top 1 ! fluff my second <3 🤍 thank youuuuuu!! aaaaaaa plss give me more ideas on the comsec or just ask mee! thank you, thank youuuu aaa ilyy mwaaaa

[totaly-obsessed]

Barça's Pride Appreciation

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