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gavisuntiedboot · 9 months

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Just Pretend (Gavi x reader)

Part 10

Warnings: SMUT!! and also BAD WRITING!! TYPOS AS WELL PROBABLY!! BUT MAINLY THE SMUT!!!

Word Count: 21.5K (Fun Fact: If you have read all of JP, that's 159 pages single space of reading.)

A/N: Here it is. The finale of my heartfelt daydream, laid bare for you all to see. I hope you've enjoyed the ride: the road ends here.

GIF: @gavidaily (i've been waiting since part 1 to use this mf gif)

Previously on Just Pretend

"Scrubs? You look too young to be a doctor." "You don't look old enough to be let into the club, but everyone is full of surprises."

"You're late. It's 6:45." "Good morning to you too, Gavira."

Gavi found himself glancing at your ass as you leaned over, before swiftly looking away. He did not like you. He had a baseline of respect for you as a young successful professional. Nothing else.

"Are we not friends, y/n?"

"I'm not sure, Gavi. We could be if you stopped hating me."

"I don't hate you. I think."

Gavi stopped thinking. He acted on impulse only. He tugged the wrist that was in his hand, pulling you in. Your head met with his hard chest, and you felt one arm circle your shoulder. You remained like this for a long moment: up against Gavi, his arm pressing you into his chest, his shirt soaking up the wetness on your cheeks.

"'m sorry. I won't let him talk to you that way anymore."

"It's okay, Pablo. I can take care of myself." A tear finally rolled down your cheek.

"I know you can, Doctora. I know you could take on the world if you wanted to. But you shouldn't have to. You deserve to be loved and spoiled. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

"You saved me Pablo." You whispered out against him, needing to tell him someway, somehow, how much you appreciated him.

"Anyone would have interfered, doctora." He whispered back, being bold and caressing the skin of your arm that he encased with his.

"Not just today. In general. Since I met you, Pablo, you've made my life better. I just wanted to let you know. Good night."

"Because from the moment I laid eyes on you, I felt like I knew you. I don't know if I saw you on the street or in a dream, but a part of my brain recognized you, and since then I've been in pain. Pain that you can't even help me with. Nobody can. It's so hard to watch everyone take advantage of you all the fucking time. It tears me apart constantly. But it let me get closer to you. You let me get closer. And I tried so hard to keep it at bay, to be the friend that you need."

"My heart, doctora. When I give it to you, please keep it. Forever."

Now...

"Miss y/l/n, due to the... historic lack of women in the club, we do not have internal policies regarding relationships between players and employees. We just use the ones that La Liga as a whole have put in place. Those are quite forgiving, in my opinion. You can enter a romantic workplace relationship as long as it is appropriately disclosed, and you cannot be terminated as a result of that relationship ending. I saw the photo of you being pulled onto the field during the final of the Supercopa. Do you mean to tell me it was not with romantic intent?"

You had never experienced more severe whiplash in your life. First, you had been reprimanded for being too close to Pablo, for showing what Xavi classified as 'favoritism', as it hurt the team dynamic. Then you had been ridiculed by staff and players for allegedly sleeping with Pablo, and had been told you could be fire for doing so even if it was a bold faced lie. And now, months later, you were being told that it was not only okay for you to be in a relationship with Pablo, but you literally couldn't lose your job if you did? Someone in the family must have been praying for you. Or for Pablo. Was Pedri religious?

"Dr. Gonzalez, I think there has been some sort of misunderstanding. Gavi and I are just friends. Not even - we're just coworkers that get along well! There was no romance happening anywhere on the field."

And it was true. Well, sort of. You couldn't speak for Gavi's intention, but you would bet that he hadn't meant to do anything that could be perceived as romantic. Not only was he incredibly shy when it came to anything to do with his private life, but moreover, you had started to toy with the idea that maybe you were wrong about Pablo. Maybe you had misread the signs. Maybe Pedri's stylist, who you now also so lovingly referred to as naranja, had only fed into your delusions instead of delivering the hard truth to you.

"He's in love with you, stupid."

That's exactly what she had said to you when you answered the question 'so are you close to Pedri?', stating that the things Pablo did for you were far from the actions of a friend. And she was right. Friends didn't need to be physically touching in order to have a peaceful night of sleep. Friends don't feel the need to always be near the other, unable to focus if one wasn't near. Friends certainly didn't imagine each other in compromising situations: shirtless, panting, trying so hard to control his throbbing- no. Friends certainly didn't imagine such scenes. Most of all, friends didn't find themselves in these intimate moments, the air thick with anticipation, where lips were centimeters from meeting, and seconds away from saying something that would change the dynamic forever. Well, at least that's what you thought. Maybe Naranja would be your friend long enough to see if these were truly just normal hallmarks of friendship (although Pedri might be a tad upset if the two of you started sleeping together). You're glad she offered her cellphone number to you.

But this was not the only opinion that was presented to you. You had been sitting on your couch one night, a rare evening when Gavi had promised to accompany Ansu to one hangout or another, his absence felt greatly. It had been weeks since you had a moment that wasn't filled by Pablo's voice, his laughter, his breathing as you completed an assignment while he scrolled through TikTok. There was an eerie silence to the house now, and you needed something to take your thoughts off of your maladaptive daydreams of Pablo laying on your couch, looking up at you through long lashes with a tender gaze. It was almost as if you could run your hands through his messed up brown locks, watching his eyes close as you massaged his scalp, feeling him lean more into your touch.That's all you wanted. Not even for Pablo to come to you with a grand confession of love, but just to be with him with no boundaries, no fear, no awkwardness. Just love and safety and the freedom to exist as you were. Together.

But there was no idle chatter or TikTok sounds to fill the silence, and so you had to do so yourself. You made yourself a delectable cup of tea, favorite mug warming your palm as you tried to balance your plate of snacks in the other. The camp nutritionists had been testing recipes all week, and had sent you home with some of the best food you had ever had, including a tupperware of cookies that could give those little Nestle birds a run for their money. Comfortable on the couch in that same black hoodie with the embroidered '6', you qued, rather ironically, He's Just Not That Into You (a great romcom, but not for people doubting if they're deserving of being loved). Your phone had lit up with a familiar name that you hadn't seen in months now.

"Angelika! How are you? How was fashion week? I saw the collection on Instagram. It looked stunning!"

Since her announcement about moving to Paris, you hadn't heard a peep from your 'best friend'. A mutual friend you ran into at the market had told you her move had been delayed until after the collection had shown at fashion week since the creative director had surprisingly quit, so everything was on ice until he was replaced. You had seen her collection on Diet Prada, not questioning why you hadn't seen the posts that she had made celebrating her work.

"Oh it was fabulous, and Alessandro just got replaced so Paris must be coming soon. I would have invited you, but I only got 6 invitations, and you're always so busy. Didn't want to have an empty seat."

She knew she had made a mistake when she saw your face on the screen drop. You had been the main supporter of Ang's career since you met her, and yet she didn't even bother sending you an invitation or seeing if you might be able to attend.

"Anyway, how have you been? What's new with you?"

You spoke briefly about school and work, before taking a deep breath and opening up the gnarly can of worms that was you and Gavi's current situation. You had no other people with enough context or who you felt comfortable enough with to reveal all your thoughts on the matter. All your hopes and dreams that he would sweep you off your feet. All your insecurities and fears that you had created something unhealthy, something that would dissolve into worse than nothing. No matter how you spun it, it was nice to have a friend, even if you had to ignore that you were walking a mile to see an inch in return.

Angelika listened rather silently to the entire series of events, asking one or two clarifying questions, but for the most part allowing you to monologue. When you finished speaking, you sighed rather dreamily and fell back into your couch, pulling your (Gavi's) hoodie closer around you. Sometime you forgot how much he had bulked up, until you were drowning in the shirts he had donated to you. Maybe there was something there. Now that Dr. G had confessed he thought you two were already in a relationship, the only missing piece was Pablo. You had tried to hint to him that, if he felt even the slightest affection towards you, he should go for it. Make the shot. The goal was empty - hell, the goalie would even guide the ball in for him. Had you been too subtle with your affections? Or had he purposefully ignored the brush of your lips on his throat in order to preserve your pride?

“Don’t you think you’re being a little bit delusional?”

Angelika’s statement was like a splash of ice water on your warm and fuzzy form. You looked at the FaceTime call like the woman on the screen in front of you had grown horns from her head.

“I’m … what?”

“Delusional. I mean it seems like you’re reading too much into his actions. So he what? Used you as his driver and let you keep a hoodie he got from the staff for free? Nothing super special.”

“But… but it wasn’t just that. He-“ She hadn’t even let you finish your sentence, not so subtly rolling her eyes, like she was so utterly bored with your story.

“Yeah, yeah, he punched your ex boyfriend who cheated on you. But I mean, cmon, you like, refused to fuck him. This is the second guy to cheat on you. Maybe it’s you, ha. And Gavi is literally just a raging teenager who has been looking to hit someone. I don’t think you should fly into your princess fantasies because he he finally lost his shit. And now you’re sleeping next to him every night and he’s waiting for you to give him some pussy. Better melt up quick, ice princess, before he gets tired of waiting.”

There it was again. The nausea. The head pounding. The vision blurring and room spinning. The sinking feeling that you were being betrayed by someone you had let in again. If you squinted your eyes a little, she might have even slightly resembled Martin.

“You… think he’s only being nice to me so that I’ll sleep with him?” You asked, voice soft and slow to hide the shake desperately wanting to emerge.

“Oh, absolutely. It’s not like there’s much else there. Now you look upset, but don’t be. I’m just telling you the truth so you don’t get hurt.”

“No, you’re just being a bitch.”

Your response seemed to have caught the both of you off guard. Your face had gone red with frustration, hands trembling with rage that you were desperately trying to quell. What a funny thing, rage. Feminine rage to be exact. The rage of men is common place in society - sort of like bullets. Everyone has heard a gunshot or seen what a bullet can do, in their personal life or on a screen. Male rage and fury is a normal part of life that everyone expects and respects. People bite their tongues hard enough to draw blood before they dare lash out at a man, fearful of sharp words and blunt fists. But feminine rage wasn’t a real threat. Oh no, it was more of a concept. A black and red Pinterest aesthetic in red and black, with pinups and devil horns and swirling script. It was only a danger to the self; a threat of implosion with no shrapnel to hit anyone else. A star dying, a mind shattering, as entertainment to those around. There was never an expectation for her to lash out and defend herself against those who poked at her until she bled. But should a cornered lioness cower in fear rather than attacking?

“What… what the hell is wrong with you?”

“No, what the hell is wrong with you, Angelika? All I’ve done since the day I met you is try and be there for you. All I’ve done is support you through everything - relationships, family drama, you’re entire fucking career! You had professors tell you that you would be a generic designer for H&M, and I was there for you. I was the only person with you at three in the fucking morning telling you that you could do better, that you could be amazing. I was a pincushion, a mannequin, a personal chauffeur to the fabric store. And I didn’t ever do these things because I wanted something in return. I genuinely cared about you and just wanted to see my closest friend succeed! But you couldn’t even pretend to care about this obviously one-sided relationship. All I ever was to you was a person to use when you needed and thrown away when you didn’t. I was preparing for my dream interview, my biggest career goal since I was a fucking child, and not only did you ‘forget’ to give me one word of encouragement, you asked me to be your fucking ride home! And you know what? I made my peace with it. I came to terms with the fact that you thought I was incompetent at my job because everyone seems to think I’m a physio ditz. But for you to call me the nickname people called me in college to objectify me, and then say all I’m worthy of is sex?!”

Angelika was now teary eyed and red in the face. She was shaking her head, unable to respond, acting like the spitting image of a deer caught in the headlights. She was now stumbling over her words, unable to string a complete sentence together.

“That’s … thats not true I didn’t say that.”

“No, that’s exactly what you just said. Don’t be a liar on top of being a shit person. You just said it was my fault I got cheated on by my last two partners. And now I’ve still decided to give you the benefit of the doubt after you straight up admitted to me that you didn’t think of me as one of the top six people in your happy moments. I’ve poured my heart out to you and you don’t even have the decency to lie! You either said that to purposefully hurt me, or you never cared enough to listen when I spoke. Either way, you’re just the last in a long line of people who I have let walk all over me.”

Your expression was steeled and icy. You hadn’t even raised your voice once during the entire exchange, remaining calm and level headed despite the deep cuts you had made in Angelika’s self-confidence. Your lips were downturned and brows knitted together, looking at her with all the loathing she had caused you to feel for yourself. It was hard to be alone, but it was better than being surrounded with people who convinced you that you would never be enough if you didn’t fit their mold. The girl on the other side of the FaceTime call was clearly experiencing every stage of grief all at once, unsure how to respond. She had gotten through the denial, and was knee-deep in the anger. But anger did not spark eloquence, sparking the simple response of,

“Fuck you. You can go to hell.”

And you could swear you saw genuine fear in her eyes as a bright, beaming smile spread across your face. Maybe you had never seen love, but you had seen friendship. You had seen that there were people ready to carry your entire world on their shoulders. And no matter how slowly, you were working to believe that you could be loved, even by yourself. The rage had evaporated and recrystallized as content. So you smiled sickeningly sweetly at Angelika, and gave her a heartfelt response.

“I’ll see you there, darling.”

Pressing the bright red button to end the call was one of the most satisfying things you had ever done in your life. The headache and nausea and ‘I want to die’ feeling that you usually had after a confrontation was nowhere to be found. Quite the opposite, actually. It was like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Your entire chest felt like it had more room for air. Was this what every day was like for people without anxiety? How glorious. Pressing play on Gennifer Goodwyne’s best work, you made a mental note to speak to a therapist the following morning. This felt amazing. You were genuinely smiling at… what exactly? The loss of a friend? No, no - liberation from someone’s foot on your neck. What new and exciting things could you do with this new found freedom, this fresh lease on life? Naturally, you did your favorite activity: picking up the phone and texting Gavi.

Gone were the days of Pablo wracking his brain for any excuse to email, text, or call you. It was almost funny how much he had to talk himself up, looking at his reflection and reiterating how much of a 'cool, suave guy' he was before typing out a very intelligent and eloquent 'hi'. Watching a series that he had no interest in initially just to have something to talk to you about that wasn't one of his leg muscles (no interest initially - now he was patiently waiting 4-6 weeks for his neon sign in the shape of the House Stark sigil). Now it was you who couldn't leave Gavi alone, using your messages to him as a pseudo journal, spewing your entire stream of consciousness into little blue bubbles.

[You]: PABLO

[You]: YOULL NEVER GUESS WHAT I JUST DID

Locking your phone and resting it on your chest, you refocused on the chick flick illuminating the darkness of your living room, the device vibrating against you less than 30 seconds later. As much as you would like to pretend it was surprising to receive a response so quickly, this was the normal routine the two of you had created. One needed merely call out, and the other would come running.

[Pablito]: whoever u killed they better be small

[Pablito]: bcs pedri doesnt have a lot of space fr bodies in his car

There it was again: the giggling, the lip bite, the stupid half smile that made you look less like Cindy Crawford and more like the Grinch after Christmas was destroyed. But it was the natural way your body reacted to Pablo - like a schoolgirl with a crush on a boyband member in a brightly-colored magazine. Lord, how were you supposed to be normal around him? Oh how wonderful it would be to have even one inkling that Pablo reacted this way when he heard from you. But in your head, he was still Pablo Gavi with capital letters, who was standing ever so coolly with a beer in hand as he laughed with his other hot rich young athlete friends. You could never picture him as he truly was, shy and puppy-like, beer not even touched as he held his phone in one hand and twirling his hoodie string in the other. He bit down on his lip as well, eyebrows together as he waited for a response. Despite the relationship that had grown for the last six months, he still held his breath slightly when he saw the three little 'typing' dots float on his screen.

[Doctora]: i don't think i can convey the full force over text

[Doctora]: i can come over and explain it to you in person tho

"Guys, I think I need to leave." Pablo said abruptly, looking up at the group of boys, causing a record-scratch moment that abruptly ended the conversation. The heated conversation over whether the Drake curse was real had screeched to a halt, and now all four of the young Barca players were staring in disbelief.

"You haven't even been here for an hour. Where the hell could you need to be right now?" It was Alejandro who spoke up, the only one of the four who was not acutely aware of the fact that Gavi was borderline prepared to give up his entire career for you. He only had a mild inkling.

"Um... one of my friends is coming to my house and I'm going to meet them.''

"Who? We know all your friends. Who is coming over?" Ale asked, draping an arm over fellow La Masia baby Ansu, who smirked at the Sevillano as well.

"Yes, Pablito. Who is it? Ilias?" Ansu asked, obviously enjoying the bright red that seeped into Gavi's face.

"Or maybe Alvaro?" Ale seemed to be enjoying this too much, smiling brightly as Pedri tried to sip his beer without suffocating due to laughter.

"If it's one of the boys, then maybe we should come with you! Beers from the convenience store are cheaper anyways."

Pablo was sweating bullets. How could he say that he wanted to run home to hear what might possibly be the most mundane story about keeping houseplants alive?

"No, no it's... someone from back home. You guys wouldn't know her-HIM! You wouldn't know him." That may have been the worst save Pablo had ever made in his life, including the time his friends made his 5'0 self play keeper in a pick up match. Pedri finally lost the battle and spit out his beer, laughing loudly with the rest of the boys.

"Bro, why can't you just admit your massive crush on the doctor already. It's honestly getting a little tiring at this point. You've been in love with her for like three months now-" Ansu started, moving towards Gavi and clapping him on the shoulder before being interrupted by Pedri, who corrected,

"More like six months actually."

"Ah! There is no way!" Now Pablo was being ping-ponged between his two school friends, trying to keep himself from imploding from embarrassment.

"Why haven't you told her yet? Seriously now." Ale asked, pulling up a chair for himself and Pablo, the group sitting back down, conversation topic having changed into something juicier.

"You forget that he like stopped hating her and then she directly got a boyfriend, right?" Pedri said, signalling for another round of stellas to be brought over to the table.

"I don't think we should order another round. I was going to-" Pablo started, trying to nervously get up. Would he be able to find a taxi? Or should he just order an Uber? Neither possibility was explored as Pedri stuck his arm out and pushed him back into his seat, where he was now firmly locked in.

"Spill your guts. The quicker you talk, the quicker you can tell her to come over. I'll drive you home."

"Should you really be driving if you're going to be drinking?" Pablo asked cautiously as the four beers were placed on the table.

"oh, no, I'm done for the night. Two are for Ale and Ansu, and the other two are for you. For, ya know, confidence."

[Pablito]: u wnna met me at my hosue in an hours

The six minute pause between the 'Read' notification and the response from Pablo had worried you slightly. It was just enough time for the anxiety to seep into your bones. Did he find your desire to see him overwhelming and (God-forbid) clingy? Was he showing the message to Pedri & Co., laughing at your desperation? The misspelling made you even more worried. The spiral of thoughts was taking a sharp turn in the downwards direction. Was he even looking at his phone while typing? You didn't want to be a burden to him during one of the rare nights he could enjoy himself.

[Doctora]: are you sure? i don't have to come over if you're busy

"See now she doesn't want to come." Pablo said, now two beers deep with one more to go so that Pedri would let him leave.

"You're so stupid, Pablo. She wants you to want her to come over." Ansu said frustratedly. Pablo was trying to say as quickly as possible in between gulps what was stopping him from confessing his feelings to you. It had gone along the lines of,

"Well, first I thought I hated her, then I realized I was attracted to her as soon as she got an awful boyfriend, then we became like friends, I guess? Then I just kind of never wanted to ever be away from her. I had a hard time picturing a future that she wasn't a part of. Like, it started to make me have this weird aching feeling in my chest. And now I want to tell her all of this but she like, sees me as a friend and has had a shit time with her male friends and I don't want to permanently traumatize someone I love."

There was definitely more beer spit into the air and on the floor than there was in anyone's mouth.

"What did you just say?!" His too schoolmates echoed loudly, while Pedri just stared at him in a shocked state.

Pablo's brain was swimming in beer bubbles, unable to connect any dots and make intelligent, let alone sit and explain the process and intricacies of figuring out that he was, in fact, in love with you. So he ignored the question, asking rather for advice as to how he could get you to come over to his house.

"I don't think she needs that much convincing, seeing as you guys literally sleep beside each other for the majority of the week."

"Pedri, please. Enough details. You're just going to sit here and casually tell us the doctor has been in Pablito's bed repeatedly and he has yet to ask her on a date? I might collapse if I hear another shocking piece of information." Ale exclaimed, one hand over his heart as he leaned over, Ansu above him in what appeared to be genuine distress for his cardiac health.

"Pablo," Pedri started, sitting up in his seat and placing his elbows on his shoulders, obviously meaning business. "Now it's time to exercise that one petite little romantic muscle in your body."

"Isn't every muscle in his body petite?" Ansu braced himself for the punch in the arm that he received, but it was softer than previous attacks. Maybe the alcohol was really hitting him.

"Does it bother you that she asked to come over?"

"No!" Pablo responded quicker than his teammates thought possible. "I always want her to come over. She doesn't even need to ask. I would give her a key to the place if she wanted. Hell, I would sign the house over in her name. Do you think I could ask her to move in with me as friends?" His foggy brain registered the laughter, but didn't quite understand it. He would love for you to be in his house, walking through the door with you every evening, eating on the couch, fighting over the comforter and cuddling in the cold.

"See now that's... kind of a lot for a girl who doesn't know you have feelings for her. Which is a whole separate issue of oblivion that we can address later. Let's edit it down. Hand me your phone."

[Pablito]: never too busy for you. see you in an hour ;)

You stared at the wink on your screen with wide eyes. Had Pablo's phone been hacked? He had sent emojis before, but usually when he was making a cheesy joke or mocking someone else. This was ... well you actually couldn't say. Calling this behavior 'weird' would really make everything you two did, like cuddling and sleeping over and trauma-dumping, seem 'weird' as well. The only time he had ever been so outwardly flirty with you was when...

[Doctora]: Pablo are you drunk?

[Doctora]: I'm coming over to kick ur ass

"I think I got you in trouble." Pedri said, sheepishly handing back the device. Pablo groaned, starting to feel the effects of the alcohol more strongly, head spinning and stomach churning at the thought of getting scolded by you. But something in him also burned at the idea of you getting worried about him when you weren't being paid for it.

"Alright boys, let's head out so Romeo can get back to the castle on time." Pedri ushered the three tipsy boys to the car, Ansu and Ale hunched over and giggling in the back, and Pablo slumped with a cheek pressed up against the passenger window.

"Wait! I just thought of something really important!" Ale practically yelled, leaning against the car in front of his place, Ansu waiting by the door to be let in for their own sleepover and gossip session (which may become a breakfast and gossip session given their current state).

"If the doctor tries to kiss him, will Pablo have to get on his tiptoes?"

The uproar of laughter was so loud it could be categorized as a public disturbance. Ale stood, mind foggy but genuine, watching Pedri clutch both the steering wheel and his ribs. Ansu was worse for wear, falling to his knees and gripping the sidewalk for dear life, all while Pablo gripped his head in pain and embarrassment.

"Ale, please, please open the door. I'm going to piss myself laughing from the mental image. Please, Ale."

"I'm actually taller than she is, just for everyone's information." The rebuttal was coupled with crossed arms and a pout.

"With or without shoes?" Ale's follow-up question set off another round of rambunctious laughter. Pablo was now properly tipsy and overly sensitive, and was ready to go home. Ale finally let go of the coop, preventing Ansu's public urination, and Pedri could finally make his way to Pablo's place. The green vehicle pulled into the driveway, and you followed just minutes later.

"Pedri, I'm worried."

The Canarian stared at the boy beside him. That's still what Pablo was. At his young age, he was bearing the back-breaking pressure of being the best right out of the gate, and soul-crushing weight of being in love. It was more than Pedri knew himself and many of his friends able to withstand. And though he understood the sentiment clearly, he asked anyways.

"What're you worried about?"

Pablo was many thing when he had a few drinks. He was noticeably louder, more vibrant and talkative. His usual shy self loosened up, and he was much more vulnerable. He did whatever he felt like: danced, flirted with women, made bets - anything he could imagine that would make him feel alive before the liquid courage wore off and he was back to silencing the bickering voices in his head.

"I'm worried that I'm going to say something stupid and scare her off."

"Ignore what people say online, hermano. You're not actually that scary." The giggle in return allowed Pedri to breathe a little easier. He tried to push away the twinge of guilt that reminded him he had been the one to pressure Pablo to drink, and he had been the one shoving this relationship forward at a faster pace than the participants may have liked.

"No I mean... even if the 1 in a million occurs and she gives me a chance, what if I come on too strong and kill it instantly? Can you come with me?" The request and the puppy-dog look both worked to catch Pedri off guard.

"Come with you to hang out with your girl?"

"You don't have to sit with us. You can fire up the PS5 and do whatever you want. But I won't tell her I want to grow old with her like the couple in The Notebook if you're in the house."

"You want to live out the plot of The Notebook with the doctora?"

"How did you know that?" Pablo asked with wide eyes, fully convinced that the older had read his mind.

"You just told me! How much alcohol did you actually have?" Pedri was now concerned. Could he not count? Pablo had only had three beers. He didn't remember him being such a lightweight, but it probably would explain a lot.

"Ugh, see! Pedri please, I need you. Just come with me!"

Before Pedri could protest again, a small knock was heard on Pablo's window, causing both the Barca boys to jump slightly.

"Ugh, fine. But only because your gameshock controller has never been thrown into a wall."

As the two stepped out of the car, your nose was instantly assaulted with the scent of alcohol and smoke. Pablo looked at you with a red face and slightly unfocused eyes.

"Doctora! Hey!" As he moved in to give you a hug, you stepped back from him, covering your nose with the sleeve of your (Gavi's) hoodie. You looked harshly at the boys, glare flipping between the two boys.

"I can't believe you asked me to come here while you're wasted. And you! What the hell do you think you're doing driving drunk?" You yelled, and Pedri ran forward to prevent the neighbors from hearing your misconception.

"I'm not drunk! I had one beer and waited more than an hour before driving. Pablo had three beers. We smell like shit because a waitress spilled a tray full of shots at the table. Let's continue arguing inside."

You looked at them skeptically, trying to find a smidge of deceit in either of their faces. Pablo approached you and draped an arm around your shoulder. Pressed up against you, it seemed like the smell of liquor dissipated, replaced by the last traces of his cologne and his own signature scent. Leaning down slightly, his lips brushed against the shell of your ear, sending shockwaves throughout your nervous system.

"Come on, Doctora. You know I'd never lie to you. Come inside now. I need to get in the shower."

Speechless and wide-eyed, you were helpless to do anything but nod your head and be lead back inside the house that you had come to know so well.

"I'm going to get in the shower. I think it will help me sober up a bit. And help me stop smelling like Kettle One."

"Oh."

"Don't seem so disappointed, Doctora. I'll only be gone for five minutes. You can wait for me on the balcony; you won't even miss me. Or if you really can't be without me for a single moment, I have a very large shower."

You had stared at Gavi in shock for the umpteenth time that evening, unable to process how he was being so... unadulterated with you. It reminded you of that very first night in the club, when he had stared you up and down and commended Angel on his ability to pick girls.

"Wait you have a balcony?"

That's what lead to your current situation: sitting with your knees pressed to your chest, breathing in the early April Catalan air, and staring at the beautiful view from the window. The street was illuminated in a soft yellow glow, people roaming with hands held and laughs exchanged. The moon was full, shining its beauty down onto the street, painting everything a soft silver color that contrasted with the hazes of gold. It was one of those moments you wish you could trap between plates of glass and visit at a moment's notice. One of those moments that reminded you how far you had come. That dream, that life you had worked, cried, and prayed for - you were in it right now.

The glass door slid open behind you, ending the trance as Pablo stepped out with more blankets over one arm and two mugs in hand. You took them from him, hands warmed as he draped a blue and red blanket (his favorite, unbeknownst to you) around your shoulders. He wrapped himself in a pale yellow one and took his seat next to you, legs also by his chest as he retrieved his steaming mug. Taking a sip, the thick liquid coated your tongue, sweet and rich and reminiscent of childhood.

"So you can't even boil an egg correctly, but you know how to make perfect Chocolate Caliente while tipsy? How does that make any sense?"

Turning to you, he took a pause. The wind gently pushed your hair back, allowing the moonlight to fully illuminate your eyes, and his already hazy mind struggled not to just let himself drown in them. He was beginning to sober up, but it was nowhere near how he wanted to be in your presence.

"It was my favorite breakfast as a kid. My dad used to take Aurora and I to have them for breakfast on the weekends. When I came to Barcelona, I didn't really have anyone to take care of me like that anymore, so I learned to make it myself." Pablo hadn't meant for this to be a sad story, but apparently his tone came across as such, demonstrated by your scooching over to him and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. No matter the cause, he accepted the invitation to lean against you, sharing your body warmth.

"Must've been hard for you, moving here alone." Your voice was far off, as if spoken to a different person and in a different time. Flashes played in your mind of teary goodbyes and security gates, only one of your parents caring enough to drive you to the airport.

"You know what it's like," Pablo responded. "You did the same thing." He wanted to life his head and look at you, but you move first, resting your temple against his, slotting perfectly together like a teacup that had found its saucer.

"Yeah but I was 18. You were what? 11?" Your voice is still heavy with a burden that Pablo can't understand. His parents had gone with him when he first moved - and you knew that. They had only gone back to Sevilla when Gavi, shy and petite little thing that he was (and remains) told them he was fine to stay in the dorm. He had made friends quick and been praised for his football skills quicker. His parents were only two hours away, and visited semi-frequently. Life at La Masia had been Disney Channel-esque. So why did you speak about it with the same somber tone as old war stories?

"I hate that you say 'I was 18' like it was a thousand years ago, Doctora."

Pablo could feel your cheeks form a wide smile, and wrapped an arm loosely around your waist as you leaned deeper into his orbit. Of all the times the two of you had been cuddly, this was quickly becoming his favorite. Because he wasn't holding you like a secret, in the dark of night when all you wanted to do was pass out. He could see you, here in his arms of your own free will, not running away, but rather leaning in. He got to sweep the hair from your eyes, and if he focused hard enough, the dull beat of your helping the tension dissipate from his bones.

It was moments like these when Pablo knew that he was wholly and completely in love. His heart didn't race around you anymore. It wa quite the opposite now: only when he was around you could his heart beat like it was intended. It felt full. Otherwise he was walking around with this tugging in his chest, begging him to drop everything and run to wherever you were. And once he arrived, he would tear the beating organ from his chest for you upon request. It was your property, anyways.

"But I was 18 like a century ago. I'm old and withered now Pablo. What you're doing now is taking care of the elderly."

His laugh in response made him fall forward, burying his head in your lap as you blushed profusely, laughter light and breathy as to not draw attention (or get him to move). His face pressed against one of your thighs, giggling a bit too hard at a very generic joke without a singular care in the world. He leans back slightly and places a kiss to your thigh, so quick and delicate you almost missed it.

"I'll always take care of you, Doctora. As long as you let me."

You couldn't bring yourself to speak at that moment, opting to instead bring a hand up to play with his hair. Gently, you wove your fingers through the locks, softly scratching at his head like the sleepy puppy he resembled in that moment.

Several minutes of comfortable silence elapsed before he spoke again.

"Remember the first time we met?"

"Vividly." The response came quickly and honestly from you, and you were banking on Pablo's slightly incapacitated state to prevent him mocking you. But it was one of those moments seared into your memory. The lights, the sweat, the deep urge to pull Pablo against you and kiss him until that perfect pout disappeared.

"You didn't think I was 18 then. It was a hard blow to my ego. I didn't want a pretty girl to think of me as a child. But now, I'm glad we met when we did."

Soft music floated in the air towards the balcony, the performers a few streets over finishing off the night with something soft and romantic to tug on the heartstrings of passing couples in hope of separating them from some Euros. Gavi lifted his head, body following shortly as he stood. He held out a hand to help you to your feet as well. "Come and dance with me." Rising, Pablo never released your hand from his, pulling you in as close as possible, keeping you pressed to him with one arm. He began swaying and you followed his lead, now your turn to rest your head on his shoulder and simply enjoy the euphoria of being in his arms. His breath was next to your ear, raising the flesh on your neck with every exhale, before finally saying,

"Because in the future when we're real senior citizens, I get to tell people I've known you my entire adult life."

You faltered slightly, stopping Gavi in his tracks as he met your eyes. God, those eyes. If only you knew the power they had over a certain Sevillano.

"You think I'll still be around when you're an old man?" You asked, trying to stay light and airy and nonchalant as your heart hammered against the confines of your ribcage.

"Of course, Doctora. Where else would you be other than beside me?"

This was it. This was the moment. You were dancing on his balcony in his hoodie as he told you that he never wanted you to leave his side. This was the time to agree, to jump and have those strong arms catch you as you said those three words that could show you the gates of heaven or the depths of hell. You traced shaking fingers down one of his biceps, eyes meeting as with ragged breath you began.

"Pablo..."

The response was the sound of the glass door being shoved open, causing the two of you to jump a foot apart. Pedri stood there, cheeks flushed like when Xavi played him all 120 minutes.

"Pablito!! You had a case of beer in the fridge to reward me for being the DD!" This man was on another planet, bringing you back down to earth.

"You should get him to bed. I need to get going anyways."

"No!" The protest was louder than anticipated, startling both you and Pedri, who had gotten bored of playing sober FIFA and may have over-indulged when Pablo's balcony date with you entered its second hour.

"I mean, I'll get him to bed. You haven't told me your story yet. I would hate for you to leave without finishing the reason why you came. Wait for me on the couch, I'll be five minutes."

There was a pause, almost a reluctance from you to break the strong eye contact. He knew that there was something else you wanted to say. There was always something left unsaid between the two of you. He watched your form disappear down the stairs as he guided Pedri to his room (he didn't want his soon-arriving sister to sleep on dirty sheets). "You have the worst timing imaginable, hermano." Pablo muttered out, blood boiling at how the evening had gone from 200 back down to zero in a matter of seconds. When did he even put a case of beer in the fridge? Neither of you were drinkers. His fridge was always stocked with every delight and craving you had mentioned in passing.

"You told me to make sure you didn't say anything stupid." Pedri responded, making Gavi squint at him in suspicion. He must have not as been as out of it as he let on.

"Yeah but I think she- nevermind. Go to sleep."

"Calm down Pablito. It's not like I interrupted your first kiss."

Forcing himself to take a deep, self-soothing breath, Pablo turned from his inebriated friend and shut the door.

Making your way to the living room, you once again filled your senses with the boyish football decor of the living room. Checking to make sure he wasn't coming down the stairs, you sped over to the front door. The pictures on the wall remained as they were previously: childhood, family, football. Your heart sank slightly at the thought of your Christmas present sitting ripped and crumpled at the bottom of his club-issued backpack. You turned back into the living room, making your way to the couch.

Flopping on the soft material, you kicked your feet up on the table, glancing over to look at his obnoxiously large Barca book. And there, sitting on top of it, was a simple black frame, slightly dented in one corner like it had been dropped. The frame held the two of you, angry and standoffish and forever frozen in that moment before the floodgates had been irreversibly opened. He had framed it. Pablo Gavi, the busiest boy in football right now, had decided you were worth the frame and the position front and center on his favorite book.

"So, what was so groundbreaking you needed to see my reaction in person?" His question snapped you out of your trance, and you sprung up from your place on the sofa, needing to get the photo out of your field of vision for your own sanity. Making a B-line to the fridge, the cold was inviting to your flushed face. Fruit, bread, cheese, cold cuts - no Spanish boys here. Just the comfort of food.

"Do you want a sandwich?"

"There's no way you said that to her! Who are you and what have you done with the Doctora I know?" Despite his reprimand, the beautiful boy before you joined in the fits of giggles that had taken over you. Having deprived yourself of a decent meal for the last week due to work (they had finally handed over all of Antonio's medical notes and they were in shambles), you fixed yourself and Pablo the most impressive sandwich you had ever conjured in your adult life. After filling his arms with every possible accompaniment, he plopped himself beside you on the couch, crossing his legs so his knee rested against yours. Before he got comfortable, he jumped up, stating he had forgotten something.

"I got these for you." The jar he placed on the table was filled with green liquid, and as you leaned in closer to inspect the label, your eyes lit up.

"You... bought me a jar of pickles?"

"Yeah. Remember one time you said you liked them so I got these. They look like the same jar." That's when you let yourself burst into tears.

The hour following had been you and Pablo in various states: his arm around you as you cried into his shoulder about how shit the people in your life had been, then hunched over plates stuffing your faces and joking around, and finally the current one of eating pickles and chips and whatever else was on the table as you recounted your demonic phone call.

"I did but like I've wanted to say it to her for months now! You don't understand, Pablo, because you're friends with the amazing, caring, thoughtful being that is me." More giggles as he shoved a pillow into you, smile so bright it could light up the entire first floor. He was never afraid to be like this around you: silly and playful and just comfortable.

"La la Doctora, ladies shouldn't use such foul language." It was your turn to shove his shoulder, probably causing you more damage than him due to the rock-solid muscle.

"Thanks papa, appreciate the advice. But like seriously, she asked me to drive her to Madrid one weekend - as in like Madrid five hours away - to go to a specific store. You know what she bought there? Buttons. 10 hours of my life and a hell of a lot of gas so she could get buttons! And it's not like I expected anything in return-"

"No of course not. It's just when you do nice things for people and are kind to them, you want them to act the same. Treat others how you want to be treated." Pablo bit his tongue there, scared he would sound immature or stupid. You were several years his senior in age and education, and the last thing he wanted was for you to water-down your feelings because you thought he wouldn't understand.

"Right?! See, you get it! And I just, ugh, I feel kinda bad because like she didn't really do anything directly. Like yeah her show and stuff but there wasn't really a moment or like a fallout." You moved towards Pablo, leaning on his shoulder as the moment took a more serious turn.

"But that's the whole point isn't it? That she didn't do anything, she was just kind of there and reaping all the benefits of friendship with no effort. And-"

"Doctora, can I interrupt you for a minute?" You felt Pablo's shoulder dip slightly, and disappointed as you were, took the sign to lift your head.

"Sorry I didn't mean to take over your personal sp-"

"Ay shut up about my personal space. I'd handcuff you to me if I had the chance." He quickly looked away from you, processing his comment after he had said it. Nice one Gavito - real friendly. He moved some of the cushions to the end of the couch by the arm rest, kicking off the more decorative ones and leaning down. Honey eyes looked at you between thick lashes, and patted the narrow sliver of space beside him. Rolling his eyes at the confused raising of your brow, he verbalized his request.

"Come lay next to me while you rant."

Oh. Oh. Had he ever asked you outright to cuddle with him? The first time, you had been the instigator. You had taken that leap off the bridge - no, the cliff - and yet there he had been, warm and welcoming, catching you with grace. Ever since then, there had really been no words. Talking about his desires and feelings didn't come naturally to Pablo, and so he steered clear of them all together. It was always something unspoken: he would be at your apartment and just follow you down the hall when you declared it to be bedtime. Or when you had spent too much time at the Gavira house watching reruns of the same telenovela, and Gavi just switched the TV off and guided you up the stairs. No matter the location it was always the same. Him on the right side, you on the left, but both magnetically drawn to the center and one another. You slotted into his side, head on his heart, and stabilized by his embrace. Sometimes he wore a shirt - most times he didn't. He hugged you a little closer whenever you were in his clothing, trying to dispense his scent onto it anew and make sure you would think of him whenever there was a breeze. But there were never words. Only feelings and longing gazes and that same settled silence.

"You want me to?"

"Why would I ask if I didn't want you to? Last time you fell asleep on my shoulder you almost broke your neck. Now if you fall asleep you will only be semi-sore in the morning. I mean you don't have to if you-"

"No. I mean yes. I mean no I don't not want to do that."

"Is your Spanish getting worse or did that make no sense?"

You sighed in defeat, laying beside Pablo on the couch, sinking into the fabric and into him. One of his arms was acting as your pillow, and his hand made its way upwards to softly play with your hair, an instant soother. Body turning inwards toward him, your arms were up and palms gently pressed to his chest.

"Am I too close?" You asked, Pablo's previous comment about wanting to be physically attached to you seemed to have evaporated from your mind. His second arm fell around your waist, pulling you closer in. Your thigh was now pressed between his legs, and you both seemed to hold your breath for a moment. The alarms went off in his brain while his eyes held yours. He just stared at you. That's all he ever really wanted to do nowadays. He unfroze and shook his head before prompting you to continue your story.

"Oh, right - where was I?"

"She never put any effort into the relationship."

"Oh, right." You sat up to grab one of the blankets, draping the warmth on the tangled mess of limbs, and laying back down. It was not lost on you that Pablo, despite all the jokes, had listened intently to every word you had said. Nothing Pablo did, from the way he shifted his misaligned hips to his soft breathing to the way his fingers traced shapes in your side, was ever lost on you.

"So..." and on continued your rant for about an hour. It was a different kind of catharsis to speak about your pain and receive empathy in response. To be told that the feelings poisoning your spirit were ones that had been planted and could be weeded out. It was a relief that also brought about a tiredness, where once your emotions were freed, your eyelids grew substantially heavier. But the fingers remained soothing against your hair, twisting and smoothing the locks. He pushed a few stray pieces from your face, smiling at the sleepy state on your face.

"Excited for this last month of the season?" The short international break had allowed for the season to be neatly wrapped up by the first week of May, with the Champions League final and awards ceremonies following directly after.

"Mhm," you hummed back, eyes now fully closed and cheek pressed against Pablo's warm skin. "But it's not really a month for me. It's more like a week left of the season. Copa Del Rey in three days, then you score a screamer in the net at home to win La Liga three days later. Once the season is decided, I'm back at school for practical exams." The vibration in his chest reverberated throughout your entire being, and your semi-sleeping form nuzzled deeper into Pablo, which neither of you thought possible. Fingers tightened around the semi-exposed skin of your waist, and he felt a sensation akin to weilding fire at will. Knowing full well the flames could engulf him in a torturous inferno, but oh how beautiful to hold and let dance at the tips of his fingers.

"So we have two more matches with you?"

"Three if you choke again and let the other borderline relegation team score three goals." He tugged lightly at your hair as a reprimand, your smile spreading against his neck.

"I wasn't even on the field for the full 90 minutes last game. Don't worry, we're bringing home both trophies this week. And you're getting that screamer of a goal. Make sure to record it so I can gloat forever." A gentle nod and a hum, but the sleep was slowly seeping into your senses.

"So after that, what? What's next?"

"Well you already know that Xavi offered me a permanent position for when I graduate next year. So I'm at the club on automatic placement renewal. He he I was the first one in my class to get it."

"Of course you were, Doctora. You're the best there is." Warm cheeks yet again. Pablo must think you're a natural furnace, not realizing that his sticky sweet compliments were always triggering the "Heart Overheating" alarms in your mind.

"You think too highly of me. I'll see you when you come back for preseason medicals and training. They might let me run it this year. Oh, and at the Bondor. I'll be there, too."

"At the what?"

"The Bondor." You repeated, unaware of how much you were mumbling as you drifted in and out of consciousness.

"Slow down for me, Doctora. One word at a time. Where will I see you?"

"Ballon. D'or." You repeated for the third time as slowly as possible. It was too hard to stay awake now, and let yourself slip fully into the depth of relaxation, tangled in a web of warm Pablo, basking in this moment where you could just rest contently.

Pablo on the other hand was now on high alert. There had been a lot of commotion in the club when the nominations were announced. Pedri had pulled up the livestream on the projector, the entire squad waiting with baited breath for the categories of interest. There mutters all around about how the whole ceremony was a scam and had royally screwed over Robert, but who was going to turn down the honor? You had seen the stampede (led of course by Luca, who was always at the head of any effort to get out of doing his job) and followed quickly, afraid someone else had passed out. The players had been pushing themselves to stay miles above Madrid in the league, and it was taking a real toll. You looked up at the ceiling as you speed-walked, praying that everyone (especially Dembele) was okay. You would really like a calm week.

"Now, the nominees for the Kopa Trophy, awarded to the best player under 21 years of age..."

Ansu caught your eye as you entered and waived you over, instructing you to sit with him and the other young Barca boys. Gavi had been given a seat in the middle, the throne of the meeting room, as the murmurs circulated once again. You hadn't been aware that Pablo was a contender for this award - not surprised, but your schedule didn't allow you to keep on on Twitter as you once had. You wrung your fingers, heart hammering as the presenter spoke with that slow TV drawl that made everyone want to commit arson.

"Jude Bellingham, Jamal Musiala, Bukayo Saka, Eduardo Camavinga, Gavi-"

You were sure there were other nominees, but the shouts of joy and thunderous claps on Gavi's shoulders prevented any more information from entering your ears. The coaching staff and older players commended him on the achievement, and you had to wait until the room was essentially cleared to stick out your hand and offer a congratulatory message.

"Are we doing handshakes now?" He asked, eyes flitting between you and Pedri's gossip circle occupying the far corner.

"It feels more professional. This is a professional achievement after all."

""I haven't achieved anything yet." He said shaking your hand firmly and lingering much longer than was appropriate for the workplace (and 'friends').

"What are you talking about? You've been nominated! That's huge in itself given that a lot of your teammates also qualify for that award."

"Yeah but Pedri snatched it last year. They won't hand it over to the same club two years in a row."

"Doesn't Messi have like 27 Ballon D'ors in a row?"

"Please don't use Leo as an example. I am just a regular human being." As the two of you made your way into the hall, out of the line of sight of Pedri's tea spilling team, the laughter and teasing died down. You turned to Pablo, bringing one hand to rest on his arm, smoothing the fabric of his training jacket with your fingers as you looked up at him.

"You're a brilliant player, Pablo. One of the best this club has ever seen. You are incredible and have the brightest future ahead of you, and I just hope I get to be a part of it. That award it yours - I can feel it. But even if it isn't, don't sell yourself short. You amaze me every day."

This was the best news since his promotion to the first team. He had been pushing the Paris trip to the far recesses of his brain, a bout of nausea and anxiety striking him every time he conjured the thought of walking down that carpet or speaking on stage. But now you were going to be there. You would see him in the finest suit D&G would lend him, hair perfectly gelled down (he would need a trim). And he let himself ever so briefly entertain the fantasy of you watching him win. Of the announcer calling out his name, the crowd rising to their feet in deafening applause as he accepted the trophy from Pedri. He would look out into the crowd and see you there, sending a wink your way before thanking everyone who helped him achieve this, especially the medical staff. He drifted off to sleep replaying this scenario in his head, a trophy in one arm and the girl of his dreams in the other.

Pedri woke up with a minor headache in the morning, sunlight pouring through the large windows directly into his eyes. He would be buying Pablo some blackout curtains for Christmas. Descending from his place, he walked across it: a real sight to behold. You and Gavi were tangled together on the couch, legs an absolute mess with the blanket pooled around them. Your head was on his chest, face nuzzled upward into his neck. Your hands were fisting his shirt, as if afraid someone would rip him from your clutches. Pablo wasn't much better. He had his arms wrapped around you, one on the back of your head and one around your waist. He had managed to pull you on top of him in the night, his back flat on the sofa and your weight pooled on his chest and bringing him tranquility. His lips rested against your forehead, his face perfectly positioned with yours. He held you tight against him, and your unconscious form rose and fell with each of his deep and even breaths. Despite his best efforts, Pedri couldn't stop himself from snapping a picture of the moment. Thank God his ringer was always off. He did have enough self restraint to prevent him from sharing the photo with his group chat with Ansu, Ale, Eric, and surprisingly Robert (he just likes to be included). The name had changed numerous times in the last several months, and was now simply called "friendship" my ass for obvious reasons. He knew this would be a picture Pablo and you would look back on fondly when one was finally courageous enough to just let go. But until then, it sat safely in his hidden folder, and he tiptoed out the door, sparing one last look at the pair of you, sleeping more deeply than well-fed toddlers. The tension in Pablo's face was gone. Pedri hoped it would stay that way.

"And we are just minutes from kicking off what could be the league-winning match for Barcelona here in Spotify Camp Nou! Set to be an exciting game against Atletico Madrid, and the crowd is absolutely on fire."

"Just as well, Peter. I mean Barcelona have the ability to make this an incredible three trophy season right here today. They're coming off a massive win against Sevilla in the Copa Del Rey final, at home for what could be the league winner, and the performances we're going to see today are going to be full energy full power now that the Ballon D'Or nominee list has been announced."

"That's right we have Robert Lewandowski shortlisted for the titular award after two incredible seasons at Bayern Munich. We also have Pedri potentially passing the 'Golden Boy' torch onto his fellow midfielder Gavi, who has had an absolutely stellar season."

"Who can forget about that performance in the Supercopa, Peter. Three goal contributions in a Classico no less, the likes of which we haven't seen since Leo Messi stepped up to the plate, and we all know how that played out. He's really been putting in amazing performances week after week, and the most surprising thing is the level of health Barca have been able to maintain. For a team riddled with injuries all of last season, it is a miracle turnaround. Kick off right here after the break."

The tunnel was always busy right before kick off, but today it was quadruple-fold. You weren't sure if Barca was just extra confident in a victory today, but the media passes had tripled, and everyone was eager to get candids of the young blaugrana boys. You were pushing through people's shoulders, 'excuse-me' shifting very quickly into 'get out of the way' as you made your way to the players line up to adjust resistance tape and back braces. You were in the official physio uniform today, Nike jacket hugging your skin and tucked neatly into your trousers. The entire staff had been gifted with a new pair of cleats with the date on one side and a number of their choice on the other.

"I'm assuming 6 for you?" You had been caught off guard by the assumption from the brand rep.

"Why would you assume that? Have other players been telling you things about me?" You must have looked genuinely afraid and shocked, as the rep raised his hands in innocence, face going pale.

"No no no. I have absolutely no idea who you are. You have a 6 on your hoodie, so I thought you would want something to match."

It was discreet, a small black number on the back of your heel, and yet it was the only thing that Gavi could see as you worked to adjust Frenkie's shoulder. Did all of you have numbers? Were they in order, yours just happening to fall in the 6th position? Were there even 6 people on the physio team? His eyes stayed on your shoes until they were in front of his. He looked up to meet you raised brow.

"Why are you staring? Your shoes are nicer than mine."

Turning around, he let you test his hip alignment as he allowed himself to speak away the nerves buzzing throughout his system.

"Think we're going to win?"

"I always think you're going to win. I'm just waiting for that incredible goal you promised last week."

"What, the three goal contributions in the Supercopa weren't enough for you? You have high standards, Doctora."

"Of course. That was back in January. It's April now, Pablo. I want you to make my last game good." As you released him from your grip, he turned to face you, putting both hands on your shoulders. A few players turned their heads, but only for a cursory glance.

"If I score today, you let me pick you up as a celebration."

"Are you allowed to do that?"

"Who's going to stop me?"

"One of your fangirls might dive onto the field and tackle me."

"I have faith in you, Doctora. You seem like a fast runner."

"Always nice to have your unwavering support. Deal. Better be a good goal."

"A screamer."

You moved onto Pedri, who was next in the numerical line up, and his eyebrows did all the talking for him. You muttered a quick 'good luck' before continuing your duties in the remaining minutes before they walked out for the match.

"What a friendly little deal you've made, hermano." He leaned over and said, but the players began walking before Pablo could respond. Post -anthem, you took your place on the sidelines, jittery from the electric energy ricocheting around the stadium. No Joao for Gavi to shove around, but Griezmann was going to be a problem. The first half was rough and fast-paced, but remained scoreless. As the players came off for half time, you were instructed to help out the ones with high muscle tension. Passing Pablo, you placed a hand on his shoulder and spoke into his ear, quick and soft: "Looks like I'm staying seated all game."

Pablo turned just in time to watch you scamper off, a smirk on his lips. Pablo loved a challenge, and it was all the better to have it come from you. He had a couple opportunities during the first half, but he was scared of getting fouled too early on. Now was the time were he was able to push, with the anxiety from the beginning of the game shaken off. He tuned back into Xavi's pep talk and instructions for the second half, lips still upturned.

The media was always puffing up players, but it was true that Pedri was a magician with the ball. There was something captivating about the way he calmly danced between players, maneuvering skillfully. A pass to Araujo, then back to him. The roar of the crowd was dulled by the thrum of your heart and the snapping as you bit at your nails in anticipation. The boys had been pressing hard, and a score seemed eminent. Pedri lifted his head, looking for his striker. Lewa was locked up on the right. It seemed the moment to move back, alleviate the press and recalculate. But then a flash of blue and red streaked across his vision and his foot reacted faster than his brain. Minute 85, a scoreless game, and a ball crossed high and fast towards the menace that was Gavi. His foot connected in the far left corner of the box and there it went, screaming past the goalie's fingertips before nestling in the top corner of the net.

An explosion. You were the slowest person to react, slack jawed as the other physios shoved and shook you in celebration. Hands coming to his chest, he gripped the crest like it was a crown jewel, looking right as you as he brought it to his lips, kissing it with a force and passion that had flowed in him since he was 11 years old. He ran towards you, teammates following swiftly, and suddenly there were arms around your thighs as he lifted you. He bounced you in the air as his teammates clapped him on the shoulders, congratulating him and showering him with the well-deserved praise. You looked down, hands rested on Pablo's shoulders. His gaze was locked with yours. you wanted to tease him or commend him but there were no words. He released you, pointing at ou before taking his position.

They lifted the trophy shortly after, the players looking like children as they danced and sang in a circle. The players all took their turns squeezing the living daylights out of you.

"Doctora!" It was Dembele who called out to you, waving you over. Under the watchful eyes of his coaches, Gavi was more careful not to get too close to you (even though he had just Lion-King lifted you during the game).

"Come take a picture with all your patients and their trophy!" The request was made with laughs all around as you stood behind the trophy, Ousmane on one arm and Pedri on the other. Balde and Ansu got into the photo as well, arms all around each other.

"Gavi! Get in here! You're the one with the most clinic hours." Ousmane called out to him as well. He blushed as he walked (waddled) over, stopping to pick up the trophy and dropping it into your hands.

"This is your achievement too, Doctora. You should be proud." Pedri shoved him in beside you, claiming it helped 'balance the photo'. The flash went off twice. Once with Pablo paying attention to the camera, smiling brightly having just won MOTM in their league decider. The second was almost identical, but his head was turned to you. The smile was softer, the eyes kinder. He looked at you like the ultimate prize. As he said his goodbyes to you, promising not to miss you too much in the month you would be seperated, he realized one thing: he was going to need more frames.

@gaviraconcubine: ok i thot it was stupid but maybe gavi is actually w his physio???? just look at them

1,272 Likes 677 Retweets 385 Replies

@blaugranaboy: if you FEMALES knew anything, you would know barca has had shit physios and is always getting injured. since she came on staff they staying healthy. i would pick her ass up to

@barbiebalde: @blaugranaboy *too. Sexist AND bad english? pick a struggle

@88rizzing: ok but theres also pics of her out with pedri at a prada store so idk anymore???????

@gavitaylorsversion: her instagram is private :( can someone drop clearer pictures of her

You had been through some difficult situations in the last ten months, but these practical exams were the biggest challenge you had faced in your existence. 8am to 8pm lectures for two weeks, followed by a week straight of performing concussion protocols, lifting stiff boards, and demonstrating a whopping 6 different types of sutures had finally come to an end. It was May 5th, the final day of your exams, and three days before your flight to Paris for the ceremony. Your phone had been discarded for practically the entirety of the month, logged out of all social media and having your focus set to only let through emergency calls (and, of course, texts from Pablo). They had been less frequent given his understanding of your schedule.

[Pablito]: i know you have stitches today. Good luck <3

[Pablito]: Kounde asked about you today. He hasn't realized you've been missing the last two weeks. He really isn't on this planet

[Pablito]: the finale of our show came on last night. I recorded it so we can watch it together after your exams.

And now the most recent one had come through:

[Pablito]: Congrats on surviving the epic battle of your practical exams. I sent you dinner. Have a great night!

The doorbell rang in some scary accurate timing, and you graciously accepted the package from the delivery driver. Sitting on your couch to watch any comedic show that would help you decompress. The bag was huge, and seemingly filled to the brim with containers. Pasta, pizza, two types of bread, fried chicken, and three slices of cake (chocolate, cheesecake, and tres leches). There was also a bottle of sugar-free soda, for balance apparently. As you picked up your phone to ask Pablo if you were meant to feed the whole building, another text popped up on your screen.

[Santa Naranja]: Hi! I'm not sure if you remember me, but I'm the stylist who worked with Pedro for his Prada shoot? I got this number from him. You should yell at him for giving out your number so easily.

[Santa Naranja]: Anyways, I just got the list for the Ballon D'Or ceremony and I saw your name on there. How exciting! My company is styling Barca for the event, and I wanted to reach out personally to see what you would be interested in wearing.

[Santa Naranja]: Because I'm assuming you don't want to be in a suit? But I could be wrong.

You replied instantly, telling her how grateful you were for contacting you. You had been planning on wearing one of your old wedding-guest dresses, not having the time to go pick up something else. The two of you arranged to meet tomorrow at her studio, and you went back to your original mission: snapping a picture and sending it to Gavi.

He opened the message instantly, feeling all warm and fuzzy staring at the food spread on your lap and his old shirt hanging off your shoulders. You hair was up, face bare, and he wanted to reach through the phone and kiss you on the forehead.

[Doctora]: thanks for the food, pablito <3 see u in paris

"Ouch!" He yelled out, taken out of his daydream by a needle shoved into his wrist. "Pedri! Tell your friend to be gentle."

"First of all, we're not friends-"

"We're not?" Pedri asked the stylist, the smoke practically rising from her ears. She glared at him, looking extra menacing with the pins between her teeth.

"No. We're not. You're only allowed to be here if you're silent, remember? And second of all we are tailoring your suit sleeves. You're going to get stabbed if you keep moving your arms! Now hold still. She's still going to be there in 15 minutes for you to gush over."

"How did you know who I was talking to?" Pablo asked, genuine shock and curiosity across his features.

"Oh please, for the love of God, don't tell me you think you're being subtle?!"

"Hi! Come in come in! I didn't even realize it was raining."

Santa Naranja was, as you had recently discovered, not just Pedri's stylist. She wasn't even a Prada stylist. She was now a senior assistant stylist for Style Di Fortuna, a global firm that worked to style celebrities for different events. Since Herno and D&G started dressing the club, management had received official notice regarding their event attire.

"You should have seen the letter they sent. It was like a scolding from the school principal. 'Players must be formally and professionally styled during all official events as to avoid conflict in brand image and the tarnishing of the brand's respectability. Can you imagine dressing so poorly that you could ruin the reputation of an entire brand? Although I shouldn't expect any less. Pedro's jorts could bring about doomsday."

It was the other girls in the office that had given her the nickname 'Santa' for her saint-like patience in dealing with Pedri for... reasons. She was a completely different person when his cheshire cat smile and bushy brows were not in the room. She was calm and fun and humorous. She scurried around the workshop, pouring you a cup of cinnamon tea loaded with sugar, before running back into a warehouse closet and throwing about twenty garment bags over her arms.

"Did you have anything in mind for your look? I know that the club must have given you some basic guidelines, but what about your personal style?"

"Oh yeah, they came with the invitation. Long skirt, no slit, no trains, no plunging necklines, no open backs, no beading or gems, no appliques, and no bright colors."

The poor stylist stopped in her tracks, returning virtually every dress she had in her hands.

"Okay, let's go to the nun section of the closet. What colors would you like? Keep them boring and muted." You giggled at the remark, rattling off a list of colors. She either hummed in agreement or gave a slight pause, allowing you time to retract the wrong choice. Green, red, and white were all off the table, seeing as the wags had already claimed them.

"What's Gavi's favorite color?" She teased, shoving a garment bag at you and ushering you behind the separator to change.

"Haha, very funny. I'm not going as his date."

"You can add the 'unfortunately' to the end of that. I won't judge you."

"Sure. It's unfortunate I'm not Pablo's date in the same way it's unfortunate that you're not Pedri's."

"Please don't speak such wicked thoughts about me and Pedro into the universe."

After cycling through about 15 dresses, the weight of the event and the pressure of traveling in two days was beginning to weigh on you, a tightness settling into your chest and disrupting your breathing.

"I'm going to look so stupid at this event. Nothing looks good." You huffed as you resisted the urge to face plant into the million euro pile of fabric on the floor. Your companion huffed as well, racking her brain for any guidance on how to dress you without making you look like a churchly sister or a plastic bag.

"Okay. Do you know anything about fashion?" She asked. Her tone was soft and delicate, like a kindergarten teacher asking a poor 6-year old if they knew how to tie their shoes.

"I try and keep up."

"If you could pick any look from the last like 10 years on the runway that you would wear to this event, what would it be?"

"I can't afford-"

"Not telling you to buy it. Just imagine. If you could wish a dress into your hands right now, what would it be?"

You sat and thought for a moment. It had been a long time since you separated yourself from the imposed masculine nature of your job. Your hair stayed up, your nails stayed short, your face always painted naturally (you had gotten dress-coded for winged eyeliner once). It had been years if not a complete decade since you allowed your thoughts to be pink and flowery. You had put girlhood on pause, allowed it to hibernate for the harsh winter war of professional success. But now it was spring, and the blossoms emerged once again. You weren't a physio going for a meeting. You were a princess preparing for her magical night in Paris, your fairy standing before you. This was one of those moments where you just had to take a pause. You had worked to hard to make it here. Now that you were here, enjoy it.

"Well, Viktor and Rolf had the most gorgeous tulle dresses ad fashion week. They were all strapless and tight at the top, and they had these beautiful full skirts and velvet ribbons. If I was a wag or a footballer accepting my own award, I would wear that." You said, still allowing the rose color of your imagination to tint your reality. You entertained the thought briefly that this is the first time Pablo would see you properly dolled up, and it made you want to squeal and kick your feet like a girl waiting for prom.

"Oh my God you're so smart!" She yelled, running back into the dark passage of the closet. She returned a moment later with a black fabric bag, gold filigree embossed onto the material. She hung and began to unzip, unveiling the most beautiful dress you had ever seen in your life. It was a pale nude, almost the color of beach sand, with a fitted corset top that came down to the top of the hip bone. It then flares slightly into a layered tulle skirt, the color solid except for one band of pale blue that wrapped around the skirt, the waist accentuated with a velvet bow in the same dusty blue. You reached out one shaking hand to smooth down the fabric, almost afraid it would disintegrate in your touch. (dress inspo for those interested)

"Bouguessa just sent us this. It's more subtle than the Viktor and Rolf ones, it goes with gold and silver jewelry, won't draw too much attention, and follows that ridiculous novel of rules." She said, hands on her hips behind you.

"I can't wear this." You said, trembling at the very thought of spilling a drop of... well anything really on this dress.

"You can and you will. We had it shorted for some actress wearing it in Cannes later this month, so wear nice shoes. Nothing too tall though - Pablo is 5'7 after all." You turned to her, and the face she had expected to smile back at her held eyes welling with tears. You pulled her against you, too fast for her to process, and let the tears stream down your cheeks.

"I have never had anyone be so kind to me. I can't thank you enough."

"I'm just letting you borrow a dress," she said, arms wrapping around you as well. "Do you not have friends?"

"Let's not open that can of worms."

"Hi, Dr. Gonzalez. You wanted to see me?" Your head peaked in ever so slightly to catch his hand waving you over. Despite knowing on a deep psychological level that he respected you as a professional, he still scared the bejeezus out of you.

"Yes. I forgot to give you your passes for tonight's flight. You'll be able to use this to get directly into the lounge and then on the jet we have chartered this evening."

"The... what?"

"How were planning on getting to Paris exactly, Miss y/n?" He took off his small glasses, a gesture to emphasize how stupid you were being at the present.

"I was going to take the train in tomorrow?" You responded extremely unsure of yourself.

"Take the train in the morning of the ceremony? Oh this generation. No foresight. You'll meet the team in the lounge at exactly 8pm this evening."

"So what I'm hearing is... I'm going on the private jet with Xavi and the squad?"

"Yes."

"And my accomodation..?"

"You will have a room in the hotel on the same floor as the rest of the team. Any other logistical questions? Do I need to explain what the Ballon D'Or is?"

"No, no, of course not. Thank you so much Dr. Gonzalez. I'll be sure to represent Barca well as an organization that loves women!" You got up hastily from your chair, exiting the office with Dr. Gonzalez yelling behind you.

"We didn't send you because you're a woman! Don't say that to any reporters!"

The Barcelona airport was, in your opinion, nothing special. That was until the woman at the check-in desk saw your badge and personally guided you past security and into a private Air France lounge. The room was decked out in plush sofas and chaise lounges, soft spa music bouncing between the walls. Enough food to feed the entire terminal had been laid out on stone and marble platters, and three girls in matching dark blue uniforms strolled around the room, waiting to be flagged down for assistance. This was nice. Maybe gold digging was really the best choice. It's a miracle that not everyone on the quad had Ferran-sized heads if this was the treatment they were used to.

"Ay look who finally made it." The voice greeting you belonged to Xavi, who was the first to stand up and embrace you. You greeted the rest of the group and introduced yourself to both Xavi and Robert's wives, thinking it more appropriate to sit with the other women on the trip. You chatted with them until it was time to board, at which point you could no longer exercise self control. You walked up to Pablo, tapping him on the shoulder.

He couldn't suppress his smile when he saw you, and Anna whispered to her husband how you had not introduced yourself as Gavi's girlfriend.

"Well, they're not together. She's a physio at the club."

"He looks at her like he's in love."

"Yeah. Everyone has noticed except the two of them."

Fighting the urge to stuff you into his hoodie so you could never disappear for a month again, Pablo opted to instead put one arm around you, embracing you in a tight side hug. You two walked onto the plane together, effectively abandoning Pedri, while catching up on everything that had gone on since your last meeting. He sat beside you on one of the couches, spinning around to lay with his legs on top of you, which were swiftly pushed off. The two of you now sat side by side, eating from a bag of sour gummies.

"I missed you." He said softly as you watched Barcelona grow smaller and smaller beneath you. You turned back to him resting your head on his shoulder. "I missed you too. A lot more than I thought I would." There was no more talk after that. No mention of feelings or trophies or anything really. Just sour bears and that telenovela finale he promised to watch with you.

The clock in the hotel lobby read 11:44pm as you fought with Pablo to try and carry your own bag in. Well, fought is a vague term - you tugged on his bicep while he dragged you and your suitcase inside.

"We're only here for two days - what on Earth could you have brought?" He asked, letting out an exaggerated huff as he set it down on its wheels.

"Makeup is heavy, my dress is heavy, my shoes are heavy - society's beauty standards are just weighing me down at every turn." He smiled back at you, your fingers itching to pinch his cheeks and kiss him on the tip of his nose and tell him that he had a smile that could bring cities to their knees.

"Pedri! Gavi!"

You turned around to the source of the voice, watching Pedri embrace a very tall and very familiar Spaniard. As he made his way over to Gavi, he gave you a once over that indicated his brain was still trying to figure out who you were. As his hand connected with Gavi's, it was like the electricity had switched back on.

"Oh, hey! You came and interviewed at Chelsea. Convince her to stay then, hermanito?" he clapped Gavi on the back of the neck.

"No, I didn't have to say anything. She spent an afternoon with you guys and came running back to the better club." You smiled shyly, feeling a little awkward at your once potential club interacting with the one you had chosen to stay at. You stepped to the side, noticing Perdi deep in conversation with someone else. Tan, tall, and beautiful, he turned to you, smiling wide and approaching.

"Ah hello again." You were in a hug before you knew it. You reciprocated, wishing one of the boys would take a photo so you could send it to ever girl in your high school.

"Joao! Great to see you again. How have you been?" He pulled away, hands still on your upper arms as he ranted to you about his difficult second half of the season had been. Pablo sat back, loosely listening to the exchange between Pedri and Kepa, with most of his energy focused on seething at the sight in front of him. Joao had talked to you for what? An hour? Why did he feel so comfortable touching you like this? His tongue found purchase in his cheek, his arms crossed over his chest. Xavi tapped him on the shoulder to hand him the key cards for your three, giving him a perfect excuse to break up your conversation.

"Here you go, Doctora. This one's yours. Doing well Joao?" There was an obvious hint of animosity in his voice that was evident to the both of you. Nevertheless, Joao released you to shake Gavi's hand.

"I saw you on TV the other day getting picked up by this one. Twitter went crazy speculating about you two dating. You guys.. aren't dating, right?" Joao directed the question to you, now fully turned away from Gavi, whose body temperature had exceeded 100 degrees.

"No, no. We're..." your eyes flashes to him, "just friends".

"I guess anyone would be grateful to have someone like you caring for their wellbeing. A shame that you didn't come over to us for this season. But I may get the privilege if I can get Xavi to place a bid on me." Pablo let out a laugh that was too loud and enthusiastic to be polite. If Joao had been offended, he didn't let it on.

"Oh, Mason is here, too! We're going out with him and his friend Jude for drinks here at the hotel bar. You should come with us! You can come too, Gavi- oh wait, are you even old enough to drink?" The question was punctuated with a smirk, an obvious rebuttal to Gavi's humor at him joining the club.

"I'm flattered but I need to get some rest for tom- wait Jude as in Bellingham?" You asked, eyes wide.

"Of course. Know any other Jude's being nominated?" You heard Gavi breathing loud and heavy beside you, taking this as your cue to call it a night. Before you left, Joao grabbed your wrist, taking a look at your card.

"Floor three. Same as us. Maybe we'll see you around." He hugged you once more as a good night, then headed over to Mason, who waved at the group of you with Jude beside him. You made your way to the elevator with Gavi and felt embarrassed. You hadn't even done anything but be polite, but in some way you felt like you had committed a sin in talking so freely with Joao. Engrossed in thought, your face met Gavi's back as he suddenly stopped in front of a door.

"This is my room. I'll see you tomorrow." You stopped him in his tracks, one hand preventing him from crossing the threshold.

"Are you mad at me?" You asked, voice soft and even, trying to disguise the hurt.

"I- no, of course not, Doctora. Just nervous. Didn't think I'd be seeing my competition tonight." You pulled him into a hug, hands around his waist and your head on his chest with his above it. He let out a shaky breath, and all his fears with them. Joao had invited you out and yet you were still here, in his arms and in front of his door.

"Will I see you tomorrow? Before the 'big show'?" He asked, keeping you against his chest, just for a moment longer.

"Staff aren't allowed on the carpet so I'll see you inside the theater."

"Don't sit next to Joao tomorrow." He said with a slight pout, and you wanted to just pull him down and kiss him so hard he lost consciousness from the lack of air.

"I don't think they'll let me sit next to the players. Not important enough."

"You're going to be one of the most important people in that room. And just, don't sit next to him."

"I won't Pablo."

"Promise?" He said, sticking out his pinky. You rolled your eyes and wrapped your finger around his, bringing your conjoined hands upwards. You twisted them so that your thumb was facing him and vice versa. You leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss to the skin of his hand. His breath caught in his throat, and he swallowed audibly.

"What are you.. what was that?"

"You have to kiss it to seal the promise."

He brought your entwined hands up to his lips, looking at you once more for any objection, before closing his eyes and kissing your knuckles.

"You have soft lips." You said looking between his lips and his hooded eyes.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Well, I'm two rooms over. Good night, Pablo. Good luck."

He watched you walk down the hall and enter your room, only returning to his when the door clicked shut. He pressed his back to the wood, allowing it to cool the sweat pooling under his hoodie. He was so thankful that he wasn't sharing a room with Pedri, because the feeling of your lips on his skin, soft and plump, had made him so incredibly hard.

"We are here live from the red carpet of the annual Ballon D'or ceremony, and the stars of the football world have come out in full force. On the carpet now Xavi Hernandez and his wife Núria, as well as Ballon D'Or contender Robert Lewandowski and his wife, champion in her own right, Anna. These are the veterans of football, and they should be shortly accompanied by the young trailblazers leading the New Era of Barcelona football."

It was three minutes until Gavi was supposed to step onto the carpet, and he was panicking. His breathing was shallow, his collar felt like it was suffocating him, and he was sweating bullets under his suit.

"Pedri, I can't do this." He said, genuine fear swimming in his eyes as he looked to his friend for comfort.

"Yes you can, hermano. All you have to do is walk and smile. Maybe answer some questions. You can absolutely do all of those things."

"What if I make an ass of myself?" He said, hiding behind Pedri as their handler signalled 30 seconds until they walked.

"You are here being told you are one of the best under 21 players in the world, and then you get to walk into the theater and see the best person in the world."

"I do really want to see her in a dress."

"I was talking about Leo Messi." Pedri deadpanned, and Gavi was shoved on the carpet genuinely laughing, a million bulbs flashing to capture his joy. He was here. He was 18 years old and on his way to shake hands with greatness. He was walking the carpet with his best friend in the world in a five thousand euro suit. He thought to his younger self, eleven years old and hiding behind his mother on his first day at La Masia. All the dreams he had were now the blueprint for his reality. Barca first team player? Check. Goal scorer? Check. Trophy winner? Check. Beautiful girl to share every euphoric moment with? Pending.

He took a few steps forward, waiting for Pedri to be photographed before he walked down to the end of the carpet, taking a group photo and heading to the microphones.

"Gavi! You look wonderful this evening. Are you excited for your first ceremony?"

"Oh, yeah, of course. It's something that I always dreamed about and now that my dream is a reality, I am just trying to enjoy every moment."

"Well you have had an absolutely stellar season playing with the reigning Kopa winner here, Pedri. Is it something you're thankful for, to play with him and to play with Barca?"

He looked over at Pedri, whose eyebrows were wiggling causing his serious demeanor to break.

"I'm absolutely so pleased to work with this guy here. He's just incredible on the field and we work well together. Barca is my lifelong club, and I am grateful to play there, to have them take care of me and keep me healthy." The reporter gave a thumbs up, and the boy stepped to the side to allow Pedri to finish his interview, wanted to have company as he entered the theater.

"Taking care of you and keeping you healthy, hm? Why didn't you just say her full name?"

The theater was glorious, all gold ornaments and plush red velvet, giving it a timeless and glamorous look. He craned his neck, looking around for those familiar eyes and inviting smile that had made his life so much worse and simultaneously so much better.

"Pablo." The voice came from behind him, and when he turned around, the world moved in slow motion. Your dress, pale nude and powder blue, made you look like a Greek deity. You could give the entire Spanish royal family a run for their money with the way the bodice seemed to mold against you, flaring out into a beautiful cascade of material. It ended at the bottom of your ankles, your feet hugged by blue heels, an anklet handing off that Gavi couldn't quite make out. Your jewelry glinted in the lights, the necklaces sitting between your collar bones drawing in the eye to the expanse of your chest and neck, and he had to try so, so hard to tear his eyes from this. He focused on all these details because looking at your face made him go slack-jawed.

Your hair was cascading freely, front pieces twirled away to show off the beauty of your feature. Your makeup was simple - glowing skin with rosy cheeks, black liner framing and highlighting your eyes, and glossy pink lips. Pablo knew nothing about makeup, but he knew for certain that if he got his hands on you, he would destroy whatever you had painted on your lips to make them shine. You batted your long lashes, and smiled shyly as Pedri let out a low whistle.

"Wow, who knew you were hiding all of this? Were you looking for husband tonight? This is the way to get it." He offered a hand, spinning you around so he (or rather Gavi) could get a full look, the blue bow in your hair flowing beautifully.

"You're too sweet, Pedri. I just didn't want to embarrass the club."

"Embarrass?!" They both exclaimed loudly, catching the attention of a few bystanders.

"You're on track to upstage us. They pay you enough to afford Prada?" Pedri asked again, pointing to your shoes.

"Your mortal enemy lent them to me."

A friend of Pedri's came up to whisk him away to another group, leaving you standing with Pablo.

"So, what do you think, Pablo? Too much?" You were nervous, resisting the urge to clench your dress in your fists and scurry off. You smoothed your clammy palms down the fabric as well.

"Doctora, you know I'm not super smart like you. I don't even know the words I want to tell you right now. So I'll use one I know: you look breathtaking." He practically whispered out the last word, causing your head to snap up, eyes meeting. "I think you might be the prettiest girl in the room right now." He shoved his hands deep into his pockets, swallowing back his nerves and pride. You were absolutely stunning, and no friendship or professionalism would stop him from letting you know.

"Thank you, Pablo. You have no idea how much that means coming from you." You moved forward, adjusting his bowtie as an usher came to guide him to his seat. You moved to the back with other team staff members, waving to him as he walked off. You were independent and a girlboss and all that, but it felt good to have him think you were pretty.

"And the winner is... Gavi."

The crowd erupted in cheers, the clapping so loud it was deafening. Pedri smiled from ear to ear, watching as his friend came up to the stage to take his place as Europe's shining star, their Golden Boy. Gavi had been frozen in his seat for a second before Robert pushed him up, clapping him on the back and congradulating him. As he placed his hands around the trophy, his peripheral vision registered the people moving from their seats, standing and clapping for his success. Pedri was smug in his congratulations, reminding Pablo he never had a doubt he would be handing off this trophy to him. And as Pablo took his place at the podium, the gold statue adorning his side, he saw you. In the third to last row of the theater, you stood, by yourself in a row full of staff, clapping excitedly for his achievement. Your smile was bright, teeth on full display to convey the level of genuine joy you felt in that moment. You almost looked happier than Gavi himself. And as the applause died down and people retook their seats, he watched you sit back down, hands crossed over your chest in pride and admiration. He looked straight at you, a point of comfort in the large crowd, and only then did he allow the unbridled joy of being the very best to fill him.

"Thank you. I am so proud to have achieved this, to have won such a prestigious award in my first full season with Barca's first team. Thank you to my family for standing by me in the good times and the bad, and for believing in me. Thank you to the club, who gave me every opportunity to play and show my skill this season. A huge thanks to my coach and teammates for helping me succeed. And finally, I want to recognize and thank the Barca staff, especially the physio team, for all their hard work this season. I wouldn't be here without their dedication. Once again, thank you very much for the honor. Visca Barca."

All he wanted was to run off the stage into your arms, to ignore the questions about his season and his success, but there would be time later. You, on the other hand, were trying to recover from the shell shock of Pablo recognizing you specifically during his acceptance speech. Your phone buzzed in your lap at a mile a minute, text messages flooding in from friends and family telling you they had watched Gavi's praise of you on TV. You sat in that same shocked state until the ceremony ended.

Why on Earth did so many people want to talk to Gavi? Sure, he had just won one of the most important awards in football, but they had already played his highlight reel. What else could they want to know that wasn't on YouTube? He still smiled politely, congratulating Luka and Robert on their awards before he was able to catch a spare moment alone at a far table, Pedri pulling up to his side shortly after, also fatigued from small talk. His trophy was in hand, a little less shiny now that every person who greeted him had asked to hold it, the luster dulled by grease and fingerprints. The two stood in a comfortable silence, exchanging remarks about the room or the guests at the function every once in a while.

"Pablo! There you are!"

He looked up at the sound of your voice, but not nearly fast enough as you came barreling into him, arms thrown around his neck and embracing him so tight he thought he might pass out (not that he was complaining).

"I'm so, so proud of you." You whispered in his ear, squeezing a little tighter before releasing him, smoothing the soft material of his blazer to release the wrinkles you caused with your attack.

"I'm so glad all your hard work had amounted to this, and I hope I'm around to see how amazing you'll be in the future." You said, emotion making your voice crack slightly. There was something about Pablo that convinced you, deep in your soul, that you were two halves meant to come together. He was young, passionate, ambitious - a reflection of yourself. And to watch him succeed? To see him soar to heights previously thought impossible? It was something you wouldn't trade for the world.

Gavi's heartstrings were so tight they were ready to snap. He had prayed to hear so many different things from you, but never realized that this recognition, this pride expressed so freely, would be the most meaningful. This was it. This was the moment. Suit on, trophy in hand, this was the moment to express how much needed you in his life in a different way. How much he needed to keep making you proud.

"Y/N! There you are."

Joao's built arm was wrapped around you, smelling slightly of whiskey and Dior Fahrenheit. The anger vein in Gavi's forehead began to make a reappearance.

"Mason had to see you and introduce you to some of the boys." Mason greeted you as well, and called over his 'friend Jude' to be introduced. Jude Bellingham was an absolute sculpture, holding a glass of God knows what in such an effortless manner, his tie also abandoned in favor of leaving his first two buttons popped.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Jude. I've heard about you from this one - thinks you're a medical Godsend." He ended with a wink. Pedri could feel the heat radiating from Gavi's side, and apparently so could Jude, who looked up and offered a wave.

"Congrats, mate. Brilliant speech." He said, raising a glass to help bridge the language barrier. You turned your head, quickly translating the sentiment.

"Oh, you're with them? The super special physio that's gotten praised in his speech? I should've known I was in the presence of greatness." You laughed politely, tucking a loose strand of hair behind one ear.

"I'm really nothing special."

"Oh, well, that can't be true. I'll see for myself when I'm in SPain next year." A wink. Pedri grasped Pablo's arm to prevent blows. "Come with me, I want to introduce you to some of the boys and the staff from City."

You quickly turned around, finding Gavi and Pedri whispering to one another.

"Pablo! He wants to introduce me to some people. I'll come find you!"

Thirty minutes later, Pablo was at a table with his trophy and a scowl, moping on what should be a happy night. After his second turn around the room, Pedri joined him, hoping to alleviate the burden.

"Hermano, are you-"

"Why would she just go with him? Like, I understand not being able to turn someone away when they're in your face, but to go with him?! Why would she do that?" He asked, sounding more and more small and child-like as he continued.

"She was just networking, hermano. Trying to meet people and make connections."

"Connections. Look what her connections have got her. Other guys coming up to her, trying to flirt in the most obvious ways possible. None of them know her like I do. None of them will ever - can ever - care about her in the way that I do. She needs to realize that no one will ever want to treat her right the way that I long to."

"Maybe you need to realize that it's not always the best guy that will get the girl, but the boldest one."

"What?"

"How many opportunities have you had, hm? To tell her you wanted her, to profess your love, to kiss her in her car or under street lamps or in front of the whole world? But you just stay sitting on the sidelines waiting for her to come to you. You know what's happening during that time? A Joao or a Jude or a Martin is taking the risk of telling her she's amazing, and she's going to accept. She's going to accept love that's less than yours because someone else was willing to give it to her, proudly and confidently. And you'll be sitting next to me, twenty years from now when we're both retired, talking about how the love of your life slipped between your fingers. She's here, right now, and you are still waiting. Either take the shot or let someone else shoot."

A fear shot through Pablo that he had never felt before. The idea of you, right now, falling in love with someone else made the bile rise in his throat. He couldn't do it again. He couldn't watch you be with a man who thought you were anything less than the entire universe. It was him. Pablo Gavi was the one meant to have you, to hold you, to protect you from every evil and show you every joy. You were his soulmate, and he would move heaven and earth for his lover who was written for him in the stars.

He stood, scurrying to where Jude and the others had congregated. "Sorry to interrupt, but have you seen y/n?" He asked, trying to keep his voice steady and free from the terror threatening to consume him. He couldn't see your form anywhere in the ballroom.

"Oh," Kepa was the one to reply as the official Spanish speaker, "she went up to her room a few minutes ago. I think Joao took her up."

Pablo nodded before speed walking towards the door, breaking into a full sprint towards the elevators. Please. Please no. Please not Joao. Please not anyone. The ding when the elevator reached the third floor made his blood ripple, and he speed walked to your door, muttering under his breath.

"Please don't be in love with someone else."

He reached the door of your room, paralyzed with fear. He didn't know what he was about to do, but he knew he would implode and self-destruct if he didn't do something.

He lifted his fist, took a breath, and knocked firmly on the door. A moment later, you opened the door, still in the perfect shape he saw you before, but now barefoot on the plush carpet of the hotel.

"Pablo?"

He peered over your shoulder, trying to get a glimpse of the room behind.

"Are you looking for something?"

"Please, tell me he's not in there."

"Who, Pablo?"

"Anyone. Please tell me that there is no one in there now waiting on you. Please tell me," he pleaded softly, moving toward you and placing his hands on your shoulder, moving one down to rest right above where your heart beat. "Please tell me there is no one else in here. I have never begged in my life, Doctora, but I'm here now to beg you: tell me who is the one you're reserving a place in your heart for. Because I know, more than I know anything else in this world, that my soul is yours. Everything I could possibly give, I am asking you to take it without a second thought. And I have pretended, for months now, that I don't need you like the very air I'm breathing. But the more I pretend, the more clear it becomes: I have never loved anything as strongly as I love you. It is overwhelming and all consuming the way every heartbeat and breath is just for you. So just tell me how long I will have to wait. Days, months, years - tell me how long it will be until I get to love you, wholly and completely. Until I get to love you as you deserve. Because there is no other choice. There is no moving on. Every angel in heaven knows that I would struggle in vain until my last dying breath trying to get over you."

There were no words. Hell, there was no air. There was only Pablo, breathless and shaking before you, his fragile heart in your hands. Your hands moved to cup his face, and the urge to cry didn't consume you. You pulled him in, lips finally connecting with his, and the electricity that jolted through you could have lit up all of Paris. His lips were slow to react, and as you pulled away he followed, reluctant to stop kissing you in fear he would never start again.

"You, Pablo. My heart is yours. I'm yours. I always have been."

This time it was Pablo who pulled you in, his arms around your waist lifting you into him. He basked in the plump flesh of your lips, the way it felt to hold you in his arms, a million times better than he could have imagined. It was as if your hearts were racing in sync, thumping the same beat that reverberated around the little bubble the two of you were in. You shifted hands from his face to his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. You had craved this, to be so close and connected with Pablo. The kiss was slow, passionate, the kiss to say 'I have waited for you for so long' and the one in return to say 'I'm here to stay'.

Pedri had gone upstairs to look for Pablo, scared he had committed manslaughter, and found the two of you there, kissing in the hallway, arms enveloping each other and lips locked in a soft and tender embrace. He placed Pablo's trophy (his whole reason for finding him on the ground, turning to leave before stopping and performing his duties as a friend: taking a picture. Maybe he should buy Gavi a whole pack of frames.

You finally pulled away, face flushed and lips pinkish and swollen from the liplock. You kept your arms around Pablo, turning your face to hide in his shoulder. You spotted the golden statue on the floor and smiled as you moved to pick it up, stopped by his strong and unfaltering embrace.

"Your award, Pablo."

"You're my real prize of this evening."

"Ugh how corny." You laughed, finally freeing yourself to go and pick it up. You carried it before turning from Pablo to unlock your room door, timidly standing in the entryway.

"Do... you want to come inside?" You asked, cradling his trophy in your arms.

"Do you want me to come inside?" He asked, heart threatening to break his sternum. He had never thought of going so far so fast.

"I mean if you don't want to-"

"No I want to, preciosa. God I want- but I don't want to make you feel like you have to."

"You're not. I want you Pablo. All of you." You opened the door wider, inviting him in. "Dale, campeon."

You left Pablo on the bed while you went to slip out of your dress. As much as you wanted Pablo (in an immediate fashion), you couldn't risk stains or rips on such an expensive lended piece. You re-emerged from the bathroom in a black night gown, a satin slip that came just past your fingertips. Pablo had made himself comfortable, stripping his jacket and shoes, abandoning the bowtie and unbuttoning the top of his shirt. You walked out slowly, standing in front of him shyly.

"What do you think?" You asked, giving a little spin. He reached out a hand, pulling you down to the bed and seating you on his lap.

"I lied before," he said softly. "You weren't 'maybe the prettiest girl tonight'. You're the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. In every room and on every night." His hands found your hips and his lips found yours, and the flames were fanned. He moved with a fervor you had never experienced, like he couldn't get enough of the feel of your lips or the taste of your tongue. He bit down softly on your bottom lip, desperate to illicit every pretty sound he could from you. He nibbled gently, pulling with his teeth and then soothing with his tongue before reuniting it with yours. He gripped the flesh of your hips, and your hands leg his lower, encouraging him to find stability on the flesh of your ass.

"You're perfect." He said breathlessly, moving to kiss and nibble at your neck. You shifted on his lap, desperate for any friction to help douse the flames between your legs. He shifted the two of you so that you were straddling one of his thighs, allowing you rock yourself back and forth as he continued worshipping and lapping at your skin.

"Pablo, it's so good." You whined as he moved down to kiss the exposed tops of your breasts. He looked up at you, asking for permission to remove your nightgown, which you gave with quick enthusiasm. He grabbed at the bottom hem, lifting it over your head in one fluid motion before stopping. He stared at you, moving across your bare chest and down to your nude lace thong.

"Oh this won't do." He muttered while gripping your waist and flipping your positions so that you were laying on the mattress with him above you.

"What?" You asked while your arms moved to cover your chest. He removed them swiftly, licking his lips and giving each breast a kiss, making your nipples harden.

"I need to have you spread out underneath me so I can take in every gorgeous inch of you." He said before he trailed his lips down your entire torso.

"Can't believe someone who looks like you is all mine. I've wanted you for so long." He finished his sentence with a searing kiss to your lips.

"Just wanted you to see how much someone could love you. And I would still love you, even if you want to stop right now and never do this again." He said, pulling back slightly before you threaded your fingers through his hair and brought his mouth to your chest.

"No, don't wanna stop. I want you. I need you Pablo please." You whine out, and hoped he knew that you meant it in every possible way. He allowed his tongue to drag across your nipples before sucking one into his mouth, playing with the other as he watched for your reactions. His cock was straining against his boxers and dress pants, and he rutted against the mattress for any sort of relief.

"Pablo it's too good."

"Always want to be good for you, Doctora. Wanna give you the best."

He moved his hands to the waistband of your panties, moving them down and watching the resistance, seeing how big the wet patch was and how your thighs clenched for some sort of pleasure.

"Open up, pretty girl."

"Pablo, want you. Want you please."

"I'm right here, baby. All yours."

You grabbed on of his hands sucking two of his fingers in his mouth while keeping your eyes locked, tongue circling and his cock now rubbing up on the flesh of your thigh.

"Want you inside me. Please, Pablo."

He rubbed his two wet fingers up and down your slit, teasing and just listening to the way you reacted. The cool air heightened everything, and you could do nothing but squirm in place.

"Love the way you say my name, preciosa. Let me take care of you." He slipped a finger inside, and you both moaned in sync. You at the feeling of finally having Pablo pleasing you, and him at the wetness he encountered. He quickly put in another, lips going back to yours as if they were addictive. He leaned back, slipping out of his trousers and boxers when you put a hand on his chest.

"Pablo. I..."

"We can stop if you want." He said, already making a move to get up and redress despite his cock leaking.

"No. I want this. I want you. I just... promise me something?"

"Anything."

"Please don't leave me after we have sex."

He looked at your hurting eyes and felt his chest squeeze. He cupped your face, kissing your forehead. "I could never leave you, Doctora." Another chaste kiss, this time to the tip of your nose. "You don't have to worry. I'll always be with you. I promise." He brought you in and kissed you, lips slotting together and tongues dancing together as if they had years of practice.

"Always have to seal the promise with a kiss." He said playfully, and you looked away in embarrassment. He spread your legs and found a space between them, tilting your head with a finger under your chin.

"Look at me baby. I want to see that pretty face when I make you feel good. Wanna see how hot you are when you cum all over me. Make the cutest little mess." He said, spitting in his hand slightly and rubbing the length of his cock. You sat up on your forearms, watching the erotic sight as Pablo ran his tip up and down your slit.

"Pablo," you whined.

He lined himself up, lifting you by the back of the neck to kiss you as he pushed in, the stretch causing you to bite his bottom lip harder than expected (he kind of liked it). He stayed for a minute on his forearms above you, hoping that time would allow you to adjust and prevent him from busting on stroke three. He placed his arms beside your head, leaning down and resting his forehead on yours.

"I love you." He said, picking up his pace as he did so. Your whine was high pitched and loud, fueling Pablo's ego tremendously.

"I love you more." You retorted, moving your hips to spur him to go faster. He pulled out of your slowly once again, then re-sheathed himself with force. He was moving slow and taking his sweet time, savoring every delicious second of the evening.

"Not possible, angel." And then pulled all the way out before slamming back in. Pablo was forceful, shifting your body with every thrust. He kissed your lips and neck, purple springs blooming from each spot he touched. You loved the feeling. You belonged to him, body and soul, and you wanted everybody to know.

"Please, Pablo. Faster. I'm begging." You breathed out, and he could do nothing but oblige.

"That's my pretty girl, taking it so well. Feeling so fucking good wrapped around me. So wet and sucking me in. Fuck. You're so good for me."

You had decided to suck on Pablo's neck to prevent you from moaning your heart out to all of Paris. A large hickey was developing just above his collarbone with not one care towards its ability to be covered. You were feeling that familiar buildup in your stomach, and brought a hand down to play with your clit that was quickly swatted away.

"Gonna cum, baby? Let me spoil you. Let me take care of you." He said as he pressed his thumb to your clit and started rubbing circles into the sensitive bud. There was no more suppressing your moans as they emerged full force. It was perfect. Pablo was perfect, telling you how much he wanted and loved you while looking after your pleasure.

"Please don't stop Pablo I'm so so fucking close."

"Wouldn't dream of it." He said, and seconds later, his name was the only thing on your lips as you came, gripping onto his back and trailing your nails down, his toned back the only thing keeping you tethered to reality. He finished a minute after you, rolling over in exhaustion. You expected him to turn onto his side and ignore you like every other man you had slept with. Instead, he got you both under the comforter, laying down and bringing you to lay on his chest.

"You're so incredible, do you know that?" He asked, kissing your forehead gently.

"You're one to talk." There's giggles and comfort despite the lack of clothes. When the high dies down, you turn to his tired form, which is still smiling at you.

"What are you so smiley for?" You asked.

"I'm with the best person in the world. How can I not smile when I'm with you?"

You laid back on his chest, guilt and paranoia seeping in, obvious by the tension building in your form.

"I love you, Doctora. I love you, I love you, I love you. You are worth more than sex. And I don't love you just because you're hot. You complete me, in every possible way."

"I love you more, Pablo."

"As the medical professional, you should know that's not possible."

He released you from his grip to get shirts and underwear for the two of you to sleep in, still not used to Pablo + you + nudity. You laid back down, cuddled into Pablo's chest as you had for months now, and drifted off into the most relaxing sleep. You were in love with a boy. And he was hopelessly, desperately in love with you. And there was nothing else in the world that mattered in this moment except for the way you tangled together to feel safe. Before he could drift off, Pablo heard the ding of his phone. A photo from Pedri of the two of you in the hall.

[Pedri]: congrats on all your wins today hermano

The flight back to Barcelona was nerve-racking for you. You were anxious as to how your boss and peers would perceive your new relationship with Pablo, which he established right away.

"No 'what are we' bullshit'. You're my girlfriend, and that's only because I didn't have a ring on me to make you my fiancee."

His hand was laced through yours the entire walk through the terminal, so proud to show you off to the world as his. As you two boarded the flight, it was Anna who finally asked if something had happened in Paris.

"I asked her to be my girl and she said yes."

There was a round of cheering from those on the plane, and after a swift whatsapp message from Pedri, there were hundreds of messages in the groupchat, from congrats to jokes to utter disbelief. Neither of you looked at any of it. Pablo was too busy counting the stars he saw in your eyes, studying every feature on your face, sneaking in a kiss whenever he could. And you listened to him ramble, intoxicated by the sound of his voice, the melody bringing you tranquility. He was your peace. He was your everything.

"Ah, so you two will be needing these." Xavi said, placing the 'Relationship Disclosure' form and two pens in front of the both of you. "Gavi, don't distract her from her work."

"Hey! Shouldn't it be the other way around?"

"No. You're the distraction." You teased, earning Pablo's full attention and wrath.

"I can tell by the way you've been staring at me for two days."

"Oh Pablo, I've been staring at you much longer than that."

"I hope you never stop."

A/N: and there it is folks. Almost 8 months later, here is Just Pretend. There will be an epilogue to this at some point to show what happens with their relationship (and it will have better smut), but this is it for the main story. Please share any feedback you have in replies, reblogs, or in the ask box. Thank you so so much to everyone who has stuck by this story for so long. I love you all.

*~*Taglist*~*

@l0verl4ne @vibinwkay @anastasia-nova @mxgvmiii @mads-grace4 @bubblebeep69 @katluckybear @scuderiabarca @alwaysclassyeagle @simpingmyassoff @grlwithprblms @lqvesoph @pink-manz @graziemille @xxenia14 @nngkay @icedlattewithextracaramel @gyusrose @vip-access @julianalvarez9 @lavie3nrose @ge0rg1ewaa @i8yul @lovefordilfs271 @remuslupinluver @thattaylorswiftobsessedbitch @chaotic-taco-collector-blog @kaismybabe @notanenthucutlet @fullsun9890 @venomwh0re @renaissancewhxre @gaviandgrizisgirl @altgojo @urmomdotcom5678 @eliseline @invidia-of-alhambra @pixwls @stell4rrrs @80sloverry @car1no-xx @mrsgavira @888bear @kylianmbappee @ivyhrry @gaviypedrisbride @grlwithprblms @dessxoxsworld @user6373738 @sideeblogsstuff @halaxxx @berriesaren

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me-loving-woso · 11 months

Text

Drunken Confessions

Prompt: Alexia Putellas x reader: - “No matter how much time we’ve spent apart, I never stopped loving you.” - “Why are you staring at me?” “Because I think you’re beautiful.”

Today was the day. Not only Alexia made her comeback, but also we also won La Liga undefeated.

You didn’t know which thing to be happier for, you winning your first championship since returning to Barça or your best friend returning to do what she loves the most, but most probably the latter option. You were so proud of her; seeing her again on the pitch and holding the trophy up while everyone cheered for her made your heart swell with joy.

You had known each other since the La Masia days; you were inseparable. Alexia in midfield, you as a striker; you linked up so well that you didn’t need to talk on the pitch, as the other girl already knew what the other was thinking. As soon as Alexia signed for Barcelona, you decided to change air and went to London, specifically at Arsenal; you were a gunner besides being a Barça fan, as Thierry Henry was your idol.

In the beginning, you would talk to her almost every day, as you missed being in each other’s company, you maybe a little more than Alexia. You were in love with her, has always been, so much so that you never moved on from her; you tried and nearly did it, but you couldn’t. She was just it for you. And the fact that you would talk to each other almost every day didn’t help either. Late-night talks kept you awake till midnight, which wasn’t healthy for an athlete, but you didn’t care; you wouldn’t care about anything else if it meant just listening to her voice.

But as months went by, everyday conversations became weekly, which turned into monthly. You initially didn’t think much about it, but then you realized that you needed to move on, so you tried.

“I really don’t think it’s necessary,” You said to Leah as she pointed to a dress.

“Oh, come on, for how long you haven’t been on a date?”

“A, this is not a date, it’s a setup, and B, not that long ago,” you say defensively.

Leah looked at you, tilting her head, “Okay, maybe I haven’t gone on a date in a while, but I am okay with it. I just need to get back to it.”

You tried convincing yourself while taking the dress off Leah’s hands and going to the bathroom to change. Maybe you were ready. You hadn’t seen Alexia in a year; it was time for you to move on.

All changed in Euros 2022 when she got injured; as soon as you heard that she ruptured her ACL, you had to see her, even though you were in a different team; you played for England, and she for Spain. You asked Ona to help you find a way to meet her so nobody could see you. So the breakfast the day before England and Spain would face each other would be the day.

As soon as you saw her, all the intensity of your feelings for her came crashing; she looked older and even more beautiful than before. As your eyes met, she finally stood up with her crutches, and without saying anything, you went to her and hugged her. After a few seconds, which felt like hours, you put your foreheads together, just like you did when you were younger.

“I really missed you,” Alexia whispered as a single tear threatened to fall down from her eye. You couldn’t talk, so you just held her a little tighter, hoping she would understand.

From then on, you decided to win the Euros for her, and you did. You won, scoring the winning goal against Germany, celebrating by putting up on both hands one finger to show 11, something that you would do back in your La Masia days when the midfielder assister you in your goals. That goal was for her.

When Barça called, announcing that Asisat Oshoala would change clubs and wanted you to be their new striker, you didn’t hesitate; your dream was playing with Barça and winning the Champions League. You would miss Arsenal, but you knew this was a step for her to take to become an even better player.

Being back with Alexia was something that you didn’t expect. All your progress trying to forget her went to zero when you saw the midfielder’s smile as she welcomed you back to the training center.

All your teammates would tease how you looked together, especially Keira and Lucy; you guys were inseparable, especially when Alexia came back to train with the team. You would link up so well that anyone was scared to do drills against the two of you. You would score goals and dribble past your opponents just by quickly passing the ball to each other. You knew Alexia wasn’t still 100% fit, but you couldn’t wait for that day.

When that day came, you were ecstatic; she was trying to downplay it, shrugging off your excitement. You were already winning the game, so the only thing that would top it, besides winning La Liga, was if she scored. You tried so hard to make her score, but nothing seemed to work. The game ended 5-2, with you scoring a brace.

As soon as the game finished, you ran to her and hugged her. She held you up until your legs started to dangle. She put you down and gave your one of the biggest smiles you had ever seen, she was back, and that was the only thing that mattered. You put your foreheads together and whispered, “I’m so proud of you.”

She hugged you again, and nuzzling into your neck, she mumbled, “Stop it, you’re going to make me cry.” You chuckled, letting her go when all your team swarmed you to throw Alexia in the air.

After the trophy celebration, the team went into the dressing room, and then they all went home to prepare dinner with the whole club in the evening. The next day you didn’t have practice, so you decided to celebrate even further with a couple of teammates by going to a local club. You, Lucy, and Keira, were getting ready at your house, and you decided to go for something simple, not too revealing, as you only wanted to celebrate the win.

“Do you think Alexia is going to come?” Lucy asks as you are putting on some mascara.

“I don’t know. I told her where it was and when, but I don’t know if she will come.”

“Mapi and Ana Maria are coming too, so maybe she’ll stop by.” Keira remarks.

After a few moments, Lucy added, “You know, I never understood the relationship between you two.” You looked at her through the mirror, with your stomach knotting.

“She’s my best friend.” I shrugged.

“Only that?” Lucy replies suggestively.

“Yes, what are you trying to say?” I answer a little defensively.

“All I’m saying is that the hug you shared today wasn’t that friendly, if you know what I mean.” She jokes.

“You got the hots for her, and she probably does too for you.” Keira remarks.

You roll your eyes, “I’m too sober for this conversation.” Sitting on the side of the bathtub while scrolling through your phone.

“So you are not denying it” Lucy smiles. You gave her a disapproving look while slightly blushing. “You guys would be perfect for each other.” She added.

“I think you should shut up.” You say jokingly.

“Oh my god, now I finally understand why our little striker is always single.” Keira grinned.

“I’m not little, and I don’t like Alexia. She’s way out of my league.” You sigh, standing up.

“So you do like her.” You don’t reply, Lucy laughed. “I fucking knew it.” She added.

“I’m done with this conversation; come downstairs when you guys are finished; I’ll call a taxi.” You go downstairs exasperated.

As they go downstairs, you stand up from the couch and turn to them, slightly hesitating, “So you guys know how I get when I’m drunk.” You tentatively start.

“Oh yeah, you have no filters when you talk.” Keira laughed.

“I remember when we went to the club after we won the Euros, you said to Leah that—“ You interrupted Lucy and rubbed my forehead, “You don’t have to remind me of that.”

“Just please, don’t make me say something stupid; I like it here,” I asked.

When you arrive at the club, you are soon greeted by your other teammates, Mapi and Ingrid, Jana and Bruna, Ana Maria, Patri, and Aitana. There was no Alexia, you knew she probably wouldn’t come, as she didn’t like partying very much, but you still hoped. You soon got dragged by Mapi and Aitana to have some shots while Keira and Lucy still talked to the others.

You were drunk. The problem was that when you are drunk, you don’t have any filters; you say whatever comes to mind; sometimes, it's funny, whereas other times it’s not. Other than that, when sober you are not very touchy. Still, when drunk, you like hugging people and sometimes can get over affectionate. So initially, you were scared that Alexia would come and probably say something you shouldn’t. Still, she wasn’t there, so you indulged in some fun. It was already an hour since you came to the club; you were dancing and singing your heart out to songs you probably didn’t even know the lyrics. As you turn to your friends, you see a new figure approaching them, then you recognize her. Alexia was here. She laughed at something that Mapi said, but you didn’t care. You were just too happy to see her.

You made your way through the crowd to your table, and you jumped in her arms, “Oh my god, you are here!” You say excitedly, slurring a little your words.

“And you are drunk.” She chuckled. She looked at me properly.

“Pfff, me? I definitely am not. See?” You tried walking in a straight line, failing miserably.

“Yeah, I’m taking you home.” She gently grabs your wrist.

“Come on, you just came here; at least dance with me for one song.” She sighed. “Okay, Only one, then I’m taking you home.”

“Alright.” You grabbed her hand and dragged her to the dance floor. She never was a good dancer, but you didn’t care. You were dancing with the most beautiful girl in the club, and you were happy. You looked at her, trying desperately to not make a fool of herself; you just smiled and kept looking at her.

“Why are you staring at me?” She asked shyly. Without thinking, you reply, “Because I think you’re beautiful.” You see her blush at the compliment and give you a shy smile while you just quickly cover your mouth like a little child that said something she shouldn’t.

“You are drunk.” She chuckles again.

“Let me take you home.” She offers.

“You can do whatever you want with me, woman; I’m yours.” You say, retaking her hand as she leads you out of the club.

You get into her car, and she drives. You were sitting in the passenger seat, and you began talking about the most random stuff you could ever imagine.

“Since when are you so chatty?” She grinned, quickly looking at you.

“I don’t want to fall asleep. And talking helps.”

“Just sleep. I’ll wake you when we get to your house.”

“No.” You pouted. “I’m a big girl, I will not sleep.”

“Then go ahead.” You lasted five seconds being silent. Then you continued, “Can I tell you something?”

“Is this some drunken confession you want to make?” She chuckled nervously.

“Well, I probably won’t remember it in the morning, so I guess I’ll say it now, even though I shouldn’t.” You didn’t let her reply when you added. “I just think you are very beautiful, and I have been in love with you for the past eight years, and I can’t stop thinking about you.” She opened her mouth, trying to reply, but you continued again. “And I know that if I were yours, I would try my best to be the best girlfriend ever because you deserve only the best.”

“Y/-“ You interrupt her once again. “And I know that you deserve better than me; that’s why I never said anything; you are amazing, while I’m just me, and you deserve to be with someone who is just as amazing and beautiful as you are because you only deserve the best. And I’m completely fine with it, okay, maybe not that much, but I’ll get it if you don’t want to talk to me anymore after this. I’ll be very sad, but eventually, I’ll move on. I’ll be okay.” You ramble. You let a quick exhale, and then you finally realize that the car has already stopped.

You look at Alexia for the first time after your big speech; you can only see her smile through the street lights outside the car. You react at her loss of words by asking, “I fucked up our friendship didn’t I?” Tears started flowing down your face, and you felt utterly sober for the first time during the night.

She put her hands on your cheeks and rubbed off the tears from your skin, and gave you a sincere smile, “You didn’t fuck up anything. Let’s get you inside; we’ll talk in the morning when you remember what I say.”

You just nod, and as soon as you get inside, she follows you to your room; she helps you clean your teeth by putting her hand on the small of your back in support for your dizzy body.

She helped you to bed, and you held her by the arm as she was about to leave.

“You don’t feel the same way, do you?” You mumbled sadly, nearly asleep. She let out a shaky exhale as her lips curled upwards.

“ I’ve been in love with you since I saw you the first day at training, and no matter how much time we have spent apart, I never stopped loving you. And don’t say you don’t deserve me because you are the most wonderful person I have ever met, and you, too, are also very beautiful.”

“Yes!” You replied very rapidly, showing all of your enthusiasm to her.

“Now go get some sleep, I’ll come by tomorrow, and we can talk then.” She was about to get up, but you stopped her again, “Can I get a hug?” You whispered shyly.

She laughed and sat down on the bed, waiting for you to change position so you could be seated too, and then she held you in a tight embrace, making you feel all fuzzy on the inside. As you removed yourself from the embrace, you put your foreheads together and closed your eyes. After a couple of seconds, she gave you a kiss on your forehead and whispered. “I’ll see you tomorrow, mi amor. Sleep well.”

She closed the lights in your room and shut the door. After a few moments of smiling dumbly at yourself, you finally fall asleep, thinking about the woman who was just here merely a few minutes ago.

#woso imagine #woso fic #woso imagines #woso x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas one shot #barcelona femeni #barca femeni #espwnt

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judithhhh · 4 months

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spanish (one-shot)

jude x gf! reader

summary : in which jude has a girlfriend who can't speak spanish at all, just like him

When Jude told you about his transfer to Real Madrid, you were totally thrilled at the thought of moving to Spain with him. The two of you looked for a nice home to install in and were fully ready to start this new chapter of your lives together. There was one thing that you forgot to think about though ; you and Jude were absolute shit at spanish. No matter how hard you tried to get used to the new language, no progress was made. This meant that the first few months in Madrid were desastrous apart from Jude's incredible debut at the club. Something simple as doing groceries or driving to a new place became a whole challenge for the both of you. Adding to that, there was the fact that the media and his fans found the fact that you were the worse spanish speakers La Liga had seen in a while absolutely hilarious. You couldn't even count how many clips of you two trying to talk with interviewers or with fans ended up on twitter.

Jude had gotten most of the backlash though. Not only his fans but also his teammates loved to make fun of him for his incompetence in the language. You, a much more private person, had not been seen on social media or out in public as much, meaning that the few clips of your disastrous attempts of speaking spanish were with Jude and not alone. You often made fun of Jude, saying that he was the most lost one, using the excuses that you had taken a few spanish classes back in secondary school so you were obviously better than him. This feeling that you could speak better quickly went away though, when an extremely amusing video of you, and only you, found its way on twitter and tiktok.

The video taking place at the Golden Boy awards, you were dressed in a beautiful black dress and was smiling widely at the camera. The interviewer first asked you questions in english about your opinion on Jude's accomplishments and more about the teams you liked ect... The interview took another turn when someone else came and started asking you questions in the unfamiliar language. Basing yourself on some classes that you took a good five years ago, you responded in the same language and, obviously, it was a shit show. Your sentences didn't add up, you used words in english or french and pretended like they were correct by saying them in a spanish accent, or you just said words, that everyone was pretty sure, never existed. At one moment, the camera panned to the spanish interviewer that looked like he was using every inches of his brain to not laugh in your face. That, of course, made Jude's fans laugh even harder.

You were not aware of this video, and of how shit your spanish was, until Jude came home, one day, yelling your name. You ran downstairs, happy to see him after his training but was greeted by the sight of your boyfriend in tears in front of his phone. You took a step closer to him and your worries went away when you realize he was actually crying laughing.

"What's so funny Jude?"

The boy tried to compose himself but could barely form a sentence in between his fits of laughter.

"You haven't seen the video?"

"What video..?"

He turned his phone around, showing you the interview. Mortified, you couldn't talk or move and just stood there flustered.

"Ain't no way... It can't be that bad babe what the fuck."

"Oh yeahhhh, it's that bad" The boy said looking everything but sorry for you. The fucker was enjoying this.

"You regret making fun of me now huh?"

"I don't regret shit Jude, leave me alone"

"Aww come onnn, don't be mad now"

You ignored him, walking up the stairs and sitting down on your shared bed. Jude was quick to follow you sitting against the headboard before putting you on his lap, facing him. His hands around your waist, he squeezed it as he began talking.

"You know it wasn't that horrible. You're English, people understand that you don't know spanish that well..."

"It doesn't matter baby. Did you see that oh my god, I was like a toddler was trying to speak."

"Well, maybe a little bit"

You groaned, burying your head in his shoulder as the boy started laughing histerically again. The two of you stayed there for a while until Jude composed himself. Taking a deep breath, he looked at you in the eyes before smiling softly.

"You know I love you right?"

"Yeah I know, I love you too"

"Even though you're shit at spanish"

"SHUT UP!"

#football #football imagine #jude bellingham #jude bellingham imagine #jude x reader #football x reader #jude bellingham x reader #hey jude :)

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masonmyluv · 5 months

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Part 8

A/N: 2 parts left from this story 🥲

Warnings: jealousy

Read the full story here

Another day at Uni after he just scored yet another La Liga goal. He was buzzing, but had to be on time for classes. He was sure the whole university will congratulate him again.

"Our boy Fermin is back!"

You looked up from your notes to see Fermin being congratulated by the whole class. People hugging him, patting him on the back. "Thanks man" he kept saying, trying to make his way to his place. You felt a déjà-vu from when he scored his first goal. It happened just the same, with him sitting near you, except that now he had a coffee cup, then him asking you to help him study, and all the things that happened which led to you two being together. "Morning. This is for you" he smiled, putting the coffee cup near your book. "Thanks, Fermin".

"Are you feeling better? After last night" Fermin asked. "Huh?" You asked confused. "Come on, you have to tell me what happened" he whined as you quietly ate your sandwich. You didn't like the attention you got from the entire university that Fermin was sitting with you at lunch time. "Nothing happened. It was an amazing night. Can we stop talking about that?" You snapped. "And they say communication is key" Fermin mumbled, placing his hand on your right knee, which didn't go unnoticed by his girl fans. "We aren't public, so stop acting like that" you said, pushing his hand away. "Okay I get it, your bad mood is still present" Fermin said. "And I'll get you to tell me why".

After classes, at which Fermin wasn't present because he had training, but promised he'll pick you up, you were waiting for him in front of the University building. "Have you seen her? He's definitely not in love with her" a group of girls passed by you.

"He should be with me. See? I have boobs and a big ass"

"Look at how she dresses. A nerd"

"I bet he wouldn't even have sex with her because she's so ugly"

You tried not to cry hearing those because they weren't true. Or were they? You weren't the most popular girl, yet Fermin was dating you. You weren't the one to wear designer clothes, but Fermin did. He never really told you his type of girl, but now that you thought about it, he would surely want a tall, skinny, boobs and ass girl, just like any football player.

"It's not true what they say" Adrian, the nerdy guy from your class, said. "Maybe it is" you shrugged. "I'm sure it's not. Not every boy wants boobs and ass. I prefer brain" he said, making a nerdy joke which actually made you smile. "Thanks Adrian. That's Fermin, I better go" you said, waving at your colleague.

Meanwhile, Fermin was watching the little interaction between you and Adrian. What did he say that made you smile? He always thought you would end up together because Adrian was basically your masculine version, the nerdy guy. Obviously he thought you weren't nerdy, you were just smart. "Hey again. How was training?" You asked, climbing in his car.

He tried to hide the fact that he was jealous, but it didn't really work when his reply sounded harsher than he intended to. He saw how your mood changed, just like that time with the presentation, and neither of you spoke about it.

"Thanks" you said, hurrying to your flat. "Y/N, we need to talk" Fermin said, following you. "I'm tired" you replied. "Me too. But I want to know what's wrong with you" he said. "Me? I'm not the one talking like an absolute dickhead to people" you snapped. "Alright, I'm sorry. I was jealous okay? Of you and Adrian. I saw that he made you smile when I couldn't" he explained. You were taken aback by his confession. He was jealous of other guys being around you? "Adrian is just a colleague, nothing more. And you really tried to cheer me up, don't you think I didn't notice" you said as you both sat on the couch. "So, will you tell me what's bothering you, pretty girl?" Fermin asked. "Yeah. It's actually two things" you said and Fermin nodded for you to continue.

"Yesterday, when we drive Gavi home, he kind of made some comments that made me uncomfortable. I didn't want to tell you because he's your best friend and I don't want you to change because of me" you finally express your feelings openly. "The ones with congratulating me? Celebrating in that way?" He said. "Yeah". "He was just teasing me because I haven't gotten laid in like a year and he's always making fun of me" Fermin chuckled. "Plus, we don't have to do it now. Time will come" he shrugged. "You, Fermin López, didn't shag anyone? Holy shit" you said and he laughed at your reaction. "I'm a good boy, Y/N" he said, battling his beautiful eyelashes at you. "But if they make you feel uncomfortable, just tell me. They can be a bit overwhelming, but that's just guys jokes" he said. "And the second thing?"

"It's related to Adrian in some way. He tried to cheer me up because we both heard those popular girls talking about me, how I don't suit you because I don't have a perfect body and I dress like a nerd. And then I thought that they maybe were right, because you could have anyone, yet—". "I want you and only you" Fermin interrupted. "Yeah, but don't you want like a girl with a nice body shape?" You asked. "I prefer brain over other things though" he said. "And you're beautiful. So beautiful I could kiss you right now" he whispered. "Even though I look like a zombie after 8 hours of courses?" You laughed. "Yeah. Even so. You're my zombie" he said, softly kissing your lips. You immediately responded to the kiss, his lips making you feel some kind of way that you never wanted to stop. "Y/N..." he groaned when you climbed into his lap, hands resting on his chest. "What?" You asked. "Nothing, just... I want to ask you out on a date" he said, blushing.

"A date?"

"Yeah"

"Never been on a date before" you admitted, embarrassed. "So it will be your first first-date? Awesome" Fermin said. "It's not. I don't even know how to act" you pouted. "Like yourself, because that's what I like" he said, kissing your pouty lips. "And where do we go?" You asked. "You'll see. Just dress casually" he said. "Dress casually" you snorted. "Like a hoodie or what?". "Yeah, like that. Comfy clothes" he shrugged. "So... is that a yes?" He asked. "Yes yes. When?". "When you're free" he shrugged. "And when you are free" you chuckled. "I can miss a class, it's no big deal" you shrugged and he gasped. "You missing a class? Bad, bad girl" he tutted, smirking. "Yeah whatever. Tell me when" you whined.

"Tomorrow at 5" he said.

"A.m.?"

"No, love. P.m."

"Okay, cuz I can miss classes, but my sleep is precious" you said, making him laugh. "Then tomorrow at 5 pm" he said, kissing your lips one more time before he left.

Hope you like it 🤍

#fermin lopez #football imagine #fermin lopez marin #fermin lopez smut #fermin lopez fluff #fermin lopez imagine #fermin x reader #fermin lopez x reader

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didishawn · 8 months

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Love at First Massage (Jude Bellingham x reader)

Warnings: feet I guess (?)

Masterlist

It was Vinicius who recommended him the place, a nice, unknown, little massage parlour somewhere along the forgotten streets leading up to Plaza Mayor.

The first thing that caught his attention was how empty the place was, a bored looking lady in the reception table checking out her nails as the typical hallway music played on the background.

The sound of his steps got her attention, her eyes didn't widden -probably used to Vini and other players visiting the place-, but he could see recognition on her face as she nodded her head on greeting as he introduces himself, she stood up and leaded him up to the farthest away chair from the windows and told him to wait.

A small chair was next to his chair topped by some magazines, his face visible in one of them, he still couldn't understand spanish, but he guessed they were throwing praises at him for scoring in all La Liga matches since his debut.

"Hi, I am y/n, I am in charge of your massage today"

A voice, your voice, caught his attention, and he was hypnotised from the very first moment, truly believing that he had died and went to heaven.

He tried to greet you back, he truly did, but not a noise came out of his mouth and he missed his opportunity when you arched an eyebrow and got down to work, he was already barefoot, you put some cream in your hands and started.

It were not only, your face and your voice which were angel made, also your hands as Jude could quickly feel the sourness and tiredness slip away and his feet to feel like new.

You were not talkative, or maybe not just with him after he didn't even greet you back.

Jude cleared his throat, yet you didn't look up to him as he scratched his neck and searched for any reason to speak with you.

"Do you watch football?" he wanted to hit himself, why couldn't he think about anything else? You laughed.

"Is that an indirect way of asking whether I know you or don't?" you inquired, looking up to him, a teasing look on your eye "I do know who you are and I do watch football, but maybe my team of choice won't be of your liking, or maybe yes as everyone knows of those tweets of you recognising the real goat"

"I suppose that means you have also seen that school project in which I wrote what my dream team was"

"I did, my brother went crazy calling you an hypocrite for then going to Real Madrid in what he deems a money operation and nothing more"

"He sounds like a real fan"

"Ask Vinicius what happened the last time he came over and my brother just happened to be here. Also tell him he still owes me that money"

"So, you work in this massage parlour and as a side job you do bets with football players for the extra money?"

"Not everyone is offered like a hundred million euros, you do what you have to do, Bellingham"

So, you were beautiful, you were smart, you liked football and you were funny as well as great at massages.

Jude was already down hard, he even thought about purposely injuring himself to come back sooner.

The massage was entirely too short for his liking -it went on for over an hour, you didn't tell him how you were purposely slow to keep on chatting with him.

Turns out, Jude Bellingham wasn't just great at football, but also at mantianimg long conversations and making sure to keep eye contact even while you worked on his feet.

When you finished, Jude almost asked you to keep going, but he didn't want to seem desperate, but he did leave a special note with his phone number written down alongside a generous tip.

He couldn't help but laugh before asking you out on a date, when you sent him a photo of what you had spent your tip on.

You did look good in red and blue, but he bet you would look even better with his last name on your back.

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #Real Madrid #football imagine #football player #football #english #English national team #england nt #england national team #jude bellingham imagine

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thiagodasilva · 11 months

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can we stop using what Vini Jr is going through as a way to say “get him to the premier league!”? you’ve gotta be fucking kidding. the racism in Spain is similar to the racism in England, in Germany, in Italy, across Europe. The racism POC athletes experience is a global issue, and has been for a long, long time. no one is free of it.

We can criticize what La Liga is doing without trying to make it some sort of competition between leagues, it’s childish and demeaning to the bigger issue at hand. It’s not about “my favorite league is better than yours” or “come to my club, it won’t happen here.” fucking grow up.

#I’ve seen it more on Twitter and Instagram than here but still #and as a POC fan it makes me so fucking mad when people who prefer the prem are always saying shit like this #like are you fucking forreal #if it’s not poc athletes it’s the POC fans going through it #like wasn’t it just a few weeks ago we watched Son Heung min get tainted with racial slurs and obscene gestures to his FACE?#*taunted #it’s still a thing across the world so stop trying to score points for your faves it’s fucking stupid #vini jr #la liga #premier league

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findingnemosworld · 8 months

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𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐧 - 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐨 𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐝𝐨.

・𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲: 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬.

( 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐈 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐚 𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐨 𝐑𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐝𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 ? 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐧𝐨 𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐭. 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐭. )

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐟𝐲 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐞, 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬.

If there's one thing Y/N disliked with passion, it was interviews, any kind of interviews.

Being hailed as one of the top ballerinas was an honor, she never took it for granted and always strived to better herself with every show she performed in - the world loved her and she loved to give back through the art of performing, and it was because that, she had met the love of her life ... Cristiano Ronaldo, the Portuguese star of Real Madrid.

It's one thing to find love, yet it's an entirely other thing if it was the person you had an affinity for most of your life.

Y/N was a die hard fan of Los Blancos - however, she'd worked so hard to conceal that so as to not appear weird in front of others, all the while she made sure to attend every match, be it for la liga or the champions league.

It never occurred her that the man she adored so much admired her dancing yet according to him, he admired how hardworking she was and how it reminded him of himself, small dinner dates here and there lead to a beautiful relationship forming a year later.

Contrast to the misconception people had of him, Cristiano had been nothing but sweet and attentive for her, and while she too had recieved a substantial amount of hate with some claiming that she's using him for fame and wealth, it seemed to not affect him seeing as he had told her that he knew her, the real her.

Nearing their two year anniversary, Cristiano was invited to be on the cover of GQ magazine and had worked his way into it becoming a joint cover for the two of them, along with an interview which would help. set the record straight in regards to their relationship.

The questions were fairy typical and tame, how do they go about with their routines? why they chose their respective careers? and what do they hope to accomplish in the near future, Y/N was visibly nervous however Cristiano had tried his best to silently reassure her by grabbing her hand and squeezing it gently while he continued to answer questions, and as they neared halfway through their interview, the questions had shifted into another direction.

" Y/N, have you always known the magnitude of Cristiano's fame? and how well known he was as a football player? "

Y/N smiled, then nodded before giggling. " Well, no one is blind to how impactful he's been as a Real Madrid player and a player for his national team? to me, that's one of the many things I admire about him, he's passionate about football, the same way I'm passionate about ballet "

" Did he turn you into a football fan? "

Y/N's face grows warm, " I am actually a football fan way before I met him "

" Really! " Cristiano raised a brow.

" Listen, I've kept this hidden so as to not appear weird but I am obsessed with football, I mean I'm Spanish and I was raised in a football loving household, so it wasn't hard not to fall in love with the sport and what it stands for " Y/N giggles.

" How come you've never told me that? " Cristiano wonders.

" It never came up " Y/N shrugs.

A few more questions later, and another question pops up that definitely embarrassed her.

" Y/N, who's your celebrity crush? "

Y/N hides her face which made Cristiano chuckle, " It's ok, I won't be mad "

" That's the thing " Y/N laughs softly, " My celebrity crush is the man I'm in love with "

Cristiano laughs, " Is that so? "

" Yes, I'm a fan after all " Y/N shrugs with a grin.

Once the interview wrapped up, they return home to rest before stepping out for dinner and that's when Cristiano asked her, " You had a crush on me huh? " he wraps his arms around her from behind.

Y/N smiles, " A big crush, that's why it was hard for me to be outspoken around you "

" Well to be fair " Cristiano chuckles, " I had a big crush on you as well, and here we are "

" I love you " Y/N smiles.

" I love you too " Cristiano kisses her cheek.

#cristiano ronaldo #cristiano ronaldo imagine #cristiano ronaldo x reader #cristiano ronaldo fanfiction

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pedripics · 5 months

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🌟 PEDRI receiving the award for Fan Favorite Player of the 2022/23 La Liga Season:

What does it feel like to be voted the 'Fans Favourite Player of the Season'? To receive that affection?

"It is a source of pride. Since the start of my career, I have always noticed the big amount of love from the fans, and I wanna thank those who voted for me. I am very happy to receive this award."

We have already read it on your social networks, but what message would you like to send to Gavi at this difficult time?

"I send a lot of encouragement to Gavi. I know that this is a very difficult time for him. I’ve had many injuries and when you are injured you value being healthy a lot. The entire squad will help him to return as best as possible. Whatever he needs, we are at his side.”

Pedri, you are organized on the pitch, but we've been told that at home your room may be a little messy, your parents are here to ask you that.

"I like to be organized on the field a lot better than at home. My mother scolds me if the room is not tidied up."

It's your birthday on November 25th, congratulations in advance, and I have been told that your playlist is not the one of a young boy. It's a bit random. What do you listen to before a match?

"Before games, I like to listen to more classical music. Music that maybe my father and my mother like a lot more, and that way I can relax and go out calm."

Robert is laughing, Ter Stegen is laughing. Do they have to hear that in the dressing room?

"They do not hear it, I put on the headphones so that they do not hear and so I do not bother anyone."

And if you had to put a soundtrack for the season of Barcelona and the season of yours?

"I wouldn't know which one to tell you, I would maybe play a song by Quevedo, who is from my hometown."

#pedri #pedri gonzalez #fc barça #fc barcelona #barça #*interview

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copper-16 · 7 months

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You Can't Talk No Sh*t Without Penalties (Misa Rodriguez x Marta Cardona)

A/N: I had a request to upload this on here from ao3 and thought why not...so here it is!

To the rest of the world, Misa is absolutely terrifying.

Marta doesn’t really get it.

Until suddenly, she gets it.

That one trope where the intimidating person is soft but only for the sunshiny person.

———

Marta was making her rounds after the first international friendly that Spain played when it happened. The team had won their first game of the break against Sweden, 2-1. Marta hadn’t played much, only the last twenty minutes of the game, but she made sure to make her way around the stadium as thoroughly as she could, trying to sign every jersey and take every picture asked of her by the fans.

She’s just reached a young girl, maybe around 10 or 11, who looks up at her with big, anxious eyes. She’s trying to say something to the winger, and Marta leans down so that she can hear the girl over the roar of the crowd.

“Uhm…could you…uh, well I was just hoping that…” The girl trails off, her face red and her nerves clear. Marta looks her over carefully, noticing the goalkeeper gloves in her hands. The winger looks up and back over at the group of her teammates standing on the sidelines, where the girl is looking.

The Real Madrid goalie is standing there speaking to Alexia and Irene, and Marta smiles without even really thinking about it or realizing it.

“Misa? Were you trying to get her attention?” Marta asks gently, her voice soft.

“Uh, I was wondering if you could call her over?” The girl asks bashfully, and Marta’s smile only grows, her eyebrows furrowing just slightly in confusion.

“Why don’t you call her over yourself?” Marta questioned, knowing that Misa was close enough to hear the girl if she had called her name out at a normal volume. The girl flushes, ducking her head for a moment before she answers.

“Well it’s just…she’s quite scary!” The girl stammers out, and Marta takes the opportunity to look the goalkeeper over. She was currently talking to Irene, and Marta supposes that objectively she could look a little bit intimidating. The Spaniard stood tall in the white goalkeeper kit she had on, her arms crossed over her chest as she appeared deep in discussion. Her lips were set in a thin line, her eyebrows furrowed in what some would perceive as a scowl, but Marta knew was simply the Spaniard conveying her focus. Her biceps bulged against the sleeves of her top as she shifted to the other foot, and Marta could feel a flush coming over her own cheeks as she averted her eyes, looking back to the girl as she swallowed roughly.

“She’s really not, I promise,” Marta conveyed, but she raised her arm and called for Misa regardless, wanting her to meet the sweet young girl.

Misa had been in the middle of an intense discussion with Irene about the La Liga strike when she heard her name, and suddenly, just like that, her attention was shifted to the call that she knew had come from Marta. The goalkeeper's head immediately swiveled to find her, her conversation with Irene completely forgotten. Irene rolled her eyes as a smile spread on Misa’s face, her whole expression softening at the sight of the winger, who was looking at her with an open expression, clearly trying to call Misa over.

All of the girls knew better than to try to hold Misa’s attention whenever Marta was around. The brunette had a unique ability to melt the usually terrifying and harsh Misa down into someone of incredible softness.

It was almost sickening, considering that neither one seemed to get the hint that they were both in love with the other, instead doing this strange dance around one another where neither admitted their true feelings.

“Sorry, I just–” Misa stammered out, a half excuse on her lips as she’s already moving toward the brunette, but Irene just shooed her away and toward the shorter woman, knowing that she had lost the Spaniard’s attention the minute Marta opened her mouth.

Misa made her way over to Marta quickly, her heart squeezing when she saw that the winger was speaking to a young girl, who was looking between Marta and Misa with a nervous expression.

Marta smiled at the goalkeeper as she drew near, and Misa knew she should be looking at the young fan but she really only had eyes for the brunette. She would give anything to just stare at Marta for hours and have it be considered societally appropriate, to memorize the curve of her jaw and the lift of her cheekbones, every fleck of green in her hazel eyes, every freckle that dusted over her face.

But Marta wasn’t hers, and the brunette had never shown Misa in any way that she had interest in being more than friends, so the goalkeeper pined after her silently, and (if you were to ask her teammates), quite obviously.

“Yes?” Misa answers softly, finally forcing her eyes away from Marta and to the young girl she’s with.

“This is Anna, she’s 10 and from Malaga,” Marta explained, and the little girl, Anna, nodded carefully as she listened to the brunette’s words, looking back at Misa with hopeful eyes.

Misa smiled at the kindness in Marta’s words, nodding along as she looked between the two.

“Well it’s lovely to meet you Anna,” Misa exclaimed, delighting in the way that the little girl smiled brightly back at her, clearly thrilled at Misa’s words.

“It’s really nice to meet you too! I was wondering if you could maybe sign my gloves?” Anna asked, holding up the little goalie gloves she had, along with a pen. Misa happily took them, signing them with her loopy signature before she looked behind the girl, to see her mother watching the interaction with a smile.

“How about a picture too?” Misa suggested, and the girl’s mouth dropped open, surprise taking over her whole face.

“Really?” She asked, awe in her voice and Misa nodded once, letting the girl turn and wrapping her arm around the girl’s shoulders.

Once the picture had been taken and they had said goodbye, Misa walked back toward the group shoulder to shoulder with Marta. The winger shook her head slightly, looking over at Misa with a grin on her face.

“You’re always so sweet with the kids,” Marta commented, and Misa had to fight to keep a stupidly big smile off her face at the compliment. She shakes her head slightly, looking over at Marta, her smile full of mirth.

“I’m nothing like you. You’d make time for every person in here if they asked,” Misa acknowledged, her heart skipping a beat at the blush that twinged Marta’s ear as the goalkeeper looked down at her. The winger knocked her shoulder into Misa's arm affectionately, and the Spaniard blushed at the action, a light flush covering her cheeks.

Irene and Esther watched the exchange with unimpressed expressions painted across their respective faces.

“I’m giving it a month,” Esther announced suddenly, and Irene scoffed beside her.

“Please, a month? At this rate I’m giving it a week,” Irene exclaimed with an eye roll, and Esther couldn’t help but laugh as she headed for the tunnel to go shower and change.

—

Marta walked out of the locker room alone, after Misa got called away to discuss something with the trainer. She fell into step with Lola, who waited for her teammate so they could head to the bus together.

“This little girl I talked to today was so scared of Misa she made me call her over for her! Isn’t that crazy?” Marta observed with a laugh, and Lola looked over at her with a brow raised, clearly confused at Marta’s words.

“Marta, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Misa is objectively quite an intimidating person. To people who don’t know her she’s definitely scary,” Lola explained gently, but Marta looked over at the goalkeeper with clear confusion on her face.

“What are you talking about? It’s Misa, she’s not like that at all!” Marta exclaimed, but her teammate just let out a chuckle at the pure cluelessness that Marta had.

“Marta, I don’t know if you’ve noticed but you’re the only one she’s like that around. You’re the only one that she lets drag her around to fans or who talks her into stuff she doesn’t want to do. You’re the only one who can calm her down when she gets really upset, you are the one she wants to be close to all of the time. She’s not like that with anyone else,” Lola pointed out, and Marta was completely dumbfounded that the goalkeeper told her exactly what she had wanted to hear, in such concrete terms. The winger is quiet for a moment, opening and closing her mouth several times before she finally speaks.

“I…why do you think she’s like that?” Marta asks with carefully constructed uncertainty, almost afraid that Lola won’t answer in the way that Marta thinks she will.

She just needs one person to say it. One person to point it out to her, for her to maybe believe what she so hopes is true. Lola groans next to her, slapping a hand over her face with frustration.

“Marta,” Lola groans, and suddenly like an arrow it hits the brunette straight in the chest, nearly knocking the wind out of her lungs.

“Oh…OH,” Marta stutters after a second, her eyebrows nearly disappearing into her hairline when she realizes that Lola means exactly what she thinks Lola means.

“Yeah…” Lola replies, and she can’t help but feel slightly relieved that Marta finally sees what’s right in front of her face this whole damn time. “Do you think you might feel the same?”

Marta thinks about Lola’s question for a second before she answers, her voice holding more uncertainty than anything else. She doesn’t want to answer completely honestly, give anyone more of a reason to tease her than necessary.

Yes.

“I don’t…maybe? I’m not sure, I hadn’t really thought about it,” Marta lies, and Lola seems to accept the answer easily, not pressing the issue further.

When Marta finally tucks herself into bed later that night, her mind is filled with nothing except for Misa. She had known that she liked Misa months ago, and for months she’s simply sat on that information, never planning to act on it.

It had never occurred to her that perhaps Misa felt exactly the same way that she did about her.

Marta isn’t really sure what to do with that information, so she decides to do what she does best, and investigate this potential hypothesis.

—

Marta wakes up the next morning with a mission.

She has one thing on the agenda (aside from the very real, actual things she has for her camp schedule).

And that one thing: watch Misa and see if Lola is telling the truth. Not that Marta inherently thinks her friend is lying, quite the contrary really, but she just isn’t sure.

She’s curious, that’s all. And she isn’t about to walk up to Misa and profess her feelings for the goalkeeper with absolutely no concrete evidence that the goalkeeper at least might feel the same way.

So she walks into the locker room with her head on a swivel, looking for the Spaniard as soon as she walks in the door. And luckily for her, Misa looks up to nod her greeting to Mapi, who had walked in before her, before she sees Marta, and a smile breaks onto the goalkeeper's face as she greets the brunette.

“Morning!” Misa calls cheerfully, and Marta can’t help but reply with her own smile, her heart surging at the difference in greeting from her to Mapi.

Hm…strike one, Marta thinks, realizing that this was just the kind of thing she was looking for. It’s not enough on its own, but perhaps if there are other signs, she can really be sure.

And as they’re getting ready, Marta realizes the more she watches Misa, the more she understands how the goalkeeper could be perceived as scary. She doesn’t speak a lot, her resting face isn’t exactly one filled with kindness, and while she’s not exactly the tallest person in the world, her height combined with the sheer amount of muscle mass she holds makes her very presence more intimidating than most.

Marta looks down at her lithe, short body and then back up at Misa, swallowing as she realizes just how much she dwarfs the goalkeeper, both in muscle and size, considering that Misa is a good half foot taller than she is.

She doesn’t let herself think about it any longer, all but running out of the room and heading for the film room, which is where the team will start their day.

The winger is one of the first in the room, and she settles in a chair near the middle, waiting for her teammates to file in. Everyone walks in, taking their usual spots. Alexia is sat up front with Jenni, the couple looking at one another with sickeningly in love expressions, while Aitana and Ona both head for the back, and still the winger waits for Misa to come in.

The goalkeeper trails in after Sandra, her eyes already gazing around the room, clearly looking for someone. When she spots Marta her face softens into a half-smile, and she quickly steps over to sit down next to the winger, who is looking at her with big eyes.

“Hey, did I miss anything?” Misa asks quietly before she actually looks over at the brunette, and she takes in her surprised expression. “Everything okay?” Misa asks, her eyebrows furrowing together in clear concern.

“Fine!” Marta squeaks, and Misa’s eyes narrow at the high pitch of her friend’s tone, but she chooses not to comment on it as Marta’s eyes almost plead with her not to.

“Totally fine…cool, great, good, yeah,” Marta continues, the words simply tumbling out of her mouth with little thought behind them. Misa looks the winger up and down with a raised brow before she nods slowly, letting Marta get away with her strange response.

As they turn toward the front to start the film session, Marta only has one thought pinging through her mind.

Strike two.

—

Strike three happens when they all least expect it to.

Honestly Marta wasn’t even looking for a third strike, she was simply sitting with the information that there might be a chance her feelings aren’t as unrequited as she had always assumed that they were.

The team had gone out to scrimmage at the end of practice after doing some light strength training. It had taken everything in Marta to not stare at Misa as she lifted with the other goalkeepers, but if she had taken the time to at least look in the Spaniard’s direction she would have found a pair of russet brown eyes intently on her the majority of the time.

But she didn’t, and still Misa didn’t say a thing, and instead they all headed out to scrimmage.

Misa wasn’t even playing when it happened. She was on the sidelines watching the teams, with Sandra in goal for one and Lola in goal for the other. Marta was on Sandra’s team, playing up front with Aitana and Lucia.

The brunette had just gotten the ball from Alexia when it happened. She shifts her body around to turn toward the goal, but not fast enough. Not fast enough to register that Athenea is going in for a tackle, and an incredibly poorly timed one at that.

And just like that the winger is down on the ground, the ball completely forgotten as she clutches at her ankle hopelessly, a yelp of pain escaping her lips at the crunching tackle.

She can do nothing but breathe for a second as the pain shoots up and through her leg, and she tries to catch the breath she had lost in the fall. She can feel someone crouch beside her, but she can’t quite tell who it is.

“Marta? Marta, tell me where it hurts.”

The winger recognizes that voice. She can’t reply, the words won’t leave her throat, but she does manage to tip herself over, falling to the side and looking up at Misa. Misa, who had been on the opposite side of the pitch from her just a second ago. The goalkeeper is at her side, looking down at the winger with panic in her eyes, her hands on the brunette’s arm and side.

“Ankle,” Marta manages to huff out, and Misa’s eyes widen as she looks down at the appendage, before she looks back up at the winger’s eyes, clocking the tear that had begun to gently fall down her cheek.

Misa brings one of her hands up to cradle Marta’s cheek, brushing the lone tear away before she leaned back, straightening herself slightly and calling out for the medic.

“Misa…” Marta cries gently, and suddenly the goalkeeper goes from looking absolutely lethal to the gentle person that Marta knew her to be, her whole face softened into one of concern as she looks the winger up and down once more, her hands placed steadily and comfortingly at Marta’s side. The winger tries to focus on the warmth radiating from Misa’s hand, the scent of vanilla from Misa’s perfume rather than the pain in her ankle.

“Hey, hey, I’m right here. You’re gonna be fine,” Misa promises, and Marta nods as she shoves the tears away. The pain is starting to fade from her ankle, and she moves to sit up, an action that Misa is quick to support, her hand comfortingly on the brunette’s back as she watches her closely.

“Sorry, can you move out of the way?” One of the medics asks Misa as they run over to help Marta, and the look on the Spaniard’s face can only be described as murderous at the audacity of this person to ask her to leave.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Misa growled, and Marta can’t help the slight surprise she feels at hearing Misa’s tone, low and threatening. The medic cowers back slightly, clearly more than a little afraid of the woman.

“No…I mean I just…uh we need…space to work and all,” the medic stammers out, and Marta places her hand on Misa’s knee with a tight smile.

“It’s okay Mi, let them work, it's alright,” Marta hums out as she tries to keep the pain out of her voice, and Misa’s eyes rove over the wingers face for a long moment before she nods, standing and moving out of the way, but only moving to stand behind the brunette and next to Esther, who has also been there since Marta went down.

“Yeah down girl!” Esther jokes from beside the goalkeeper, but she’s quickly silenced with a punishing look from the Spaniard.

“Sheesh, someone can’t take a joke today,” Esther mutters, but Misa hardly even hears her, too focused on Marta to care what anyone else said or thought.

Marta looks back up at Misa, at the way she’s looking over at Athenea, her arms crossed over her chest and a harsh expression on her face. It’s perhaps one of the first time’s she’s really registered the ‘intimidating’ person that Lola had referenced before. Even when they’d first met, Misa had never been anything but kind to Marta.

But now, with Misa standing over her like a guard dog, protecting her from what exactly, Marta isn’t really sure, but she might be starting to get the goalkeeper’s reputation.

She tries to ignore the fact that Misa’s scowl is insanely attractive, and the way she glances down at Marta every few seconds with a protective glint in her eyes makes the wingers heart stutter in her chest.

The medics rotate her ankle for a few minutes, but despite the initial sharp pain, the discomfort in her foot is subsiding quickly enough that Marta isn’t particularly concerned. She lets them work though, not wanting to brush it off too quickly and risk reinjury.

“Okay, it looks mostly okay, it’s probably just a sprain, but we want to take you back to the med room to check just in case,” the medic explained, and Marta nodded as she started to push herself to stand.

As if on cue, the goalkeeper who's been watching her like a hawk is there with her hand under Marta’s arm to support her. The winger isn’t entirely sure she even needs the help, but she’s not going to turn it down, not when it’s from Misa.

The Spaniard helps to wrap Marta’s arm over her shoulder before she loops her arm around the winger’s waist, helping her walk toward the med room.

And for once Marta, who is arguably one of the more chatty people on the team, is completely silent. Misa’s body is pressed up against hers, the warmth from her side seeping into Marta as they walk toward the room quietly, with Misa shouldering a fair amount of her weight.

“Are you sure you can walk?” Misa asks after they are off the field, and Marta’s stomach swirls with unhelpful but not entirely unwanted thoughts as she imagines Misa’s strong arms around her, carrying her somewhere…anywhere.

She shakes her head slightly, both as an answer and to ward off the thought.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine Misa, you should get back to practice,” Marta insisted, and despite everything screaming in her not to, she gently pushes the goalkeeper's body away from hers.

Misa looks down at her with nothing but concern and worry written in her expression, clearly not convinced.

“Are you sure? I can come with you–” Misa starts, but Marta interrupts her with a hand on her arm. The winger tries her absolute hardest to ignore the hard muscles of Misa’s bicep she can feel under her fingertips, the way that she can feel Misa relax under her touch.

“Mi, I’m okay, I promise,” Marta assures, and Misa’s eyes rove over the brunette’s face once more before she nods curtly, her jaw set in a tight line. She checks to make sure that the medics are next to Marta before she steps away, heading regrettably back toward the field. The goalkeeper only glances back once, her heart clenching at the sight of Marta slightly limping down the tunnel.

But Marta told her to go, and if there’s one thing Misa will do, it’s follow Marta’s instructions. So she returns to practice, even if her mind stays down the hallway, where half of her heart remains in the med room.

—

Misa is the second member of the team on the bus, having practically ran there after the medics had told her that Marta was already on the bus.

The winger is sitting in the middle of the bus, looking at something on her phone.

“Hey,” Misa announces her presence breathlessly, and Marta looks up at her with a wide smile, taking in the flushed cheeks and sloppy bun that sat atop the Spaniard’s head.

“Hey you,” Marta answered easily, patting the space next to her for Misa to join her, if she would like. The goalkeeper takes the offered spot, shifting to look Marta over wholly.

“How's your ankle?” Misa asks carefully, hoping only for good news. But Marta seems perfectly relaxed, picking up her foot and twirling it around carefully.

“It’s alright, I just twisted it a bit. I’ll do light work tomorrow and I should be back fully the day after next. Not as bad as it seems or felt on the field,” Marta explained, and Misa’s body relaxes next to her, a rush of gratitude flooding her chest that it’s not a more serious injury.

“That’s good, I’m really glad,” Misa replies happily, and Marta just smiles at her before turning back to her phone. Misa settles in next to her, and she ends up falling asleep by the time the bus leaves.

They’re only five minutes into their journey when Misa shifts in her sleep, her head tipping over to Marta’s shoulder as her body snuggles into the wingers smaller one. It’s amazing to Marta how the large goalie can make herself so small to tuck herself into Marta’s body, but she would never dare complain.

Strike three, Marta thinks as Misa’s nose brushes against her throat, sending a shiver down the winger’s back at the tiny gesture.

Marta carefully looks down to check that Misa is asleep before she unlocks her phone, opening her messages. She carefully types out a message to Lola before she presses send on it, despite the hesitance she feels.

Marta Cardona: Do you really think it’s possible that Misa likes me? As more than a friend?

Marta clocks movement from above her screen, and she looks up to see both Lola and Mapi rise out of their seats like cartoon characters they’re so in sync. The duo is sitting two rows in front of her, and they turned around in their seats to look back at her. The goalkeeper's expression is unimpressed, and she raises her eyebrow as though to say really? Mapi lets out a silent laugh when she looks over at Lola, rolling her eyes at the brunette for good measure.

The defender looks between Marta and Misa with big eyes, gesturing between the two of them. Marta rolls her eyes before she types out another message, pressing send more forcefully than she needs to.

Marta Cardona: Okay, okay, I get it! But seriously you two, I need you to tell me that I’m not just being delusional.

Lola Gallardo: You aren’t being delusional - Lola and Mapi <3

Marta Cardona: How are you so sure? Did she tell you?

Lola Gallardo: She didn’t have to. She talks about you all the time, she constantly seeks you out, and she looks at you like you single handedly make the sun come up each morning. You make her happy Marta, I can promise you that it’s you she wants. Nobody else.

Marta Cardona: Why hasn’t she ever said anything?

Lola Gallardo: I’m pretty positive that she’s not sure you feel the same way.

Marta Cardona: Oh…

Lola Gallardo: Nothing a single conversation can’t fix. Sooner rather than later please, because I might have to rip off my own ears if I have to listen to her pine after you one more time.

Marta Cardona: Oh can it Gallardo, we all know you’re ten times worse when you talk about Cristina.

Lola Gallardo: No comment.

Marta can’t help but let out a snort of laughter at the text, and Misa shifts under her but doesn’t wake up, instead simply pressing more into the brunette’s body. Marta snuggles down into the feeling, completely content to let the goalie sleep against her for the rest of the journey back to the hotel.

—

Marta stands outside of Misa’s hotel room, shifting her weight nervously from foot to foot as she works up the courage to knock on the goalkeeper's door. She’s suddenly grateful they all have their own room this camp, because then she’d have to deal with not only her romantic declaration, but also getting Misa by herself to tell her said feelings.

Marta had been hyping herself up for the last hour to do this, and her stomach is nothing but twists of nervous knots. She knows that no matter what, whether this goes well or badly, at the end of the line this conversation will likely change their relationship.

She can only hope that it isn’t going to go horribly, because she isn’t sure she’d be able to handle the embarrassment of rejection in a graceful manner.

All she can think in her head is of the possibility for error here, all the possible ways that Misa could reject her. There seem to be a million different bad scenarios, the possibilities are really endless.

So despite the fact that she is standing here at Misa’s door, she can’t quite bring herself to lift her hand and knock, even though she knows that she needs to.

But she also knows that she can’t go back to her hotel room, back to this holding pattern that she and Misa have. Someone needs to address this, and apparently it isn’t going to be Misa.

The winger lifts her right arm, knocking sharply three times against the wood door before she steps back, letting out a rattling breath.

It takes just a few seconds before the door flies open, revealing Misa in the doorway of her hotel room. She has on shorts and a t-shirt, her hair still drawn up lazily in a bun atop her head, a few strands of hair coming loose, falling down and framing her face.

She looks down at Marta with a soft smile, her head cocked to the side in a silent question. She’s clearly more than a little surprised to see the winger on her doorstep later at night, though Marta could never possibly be unwelcome in her space.

“Hey,” Misa greeted, a half smile pulling at her lips as she watched the winger stand at her doorstep. Marta looked visibly nervous, and she swallowed roughly as she looked past Misa, over her shoulder and into the Spaniard’s room.

“Hey, could I come in?” Marta asks, and she’s hardly finished her sentence before Misa is nodding, stepping back to allow Marta to step past her and into the room.

The winger stands facing away from Misa for a moment, wringing her hands together before she turns back to Misa, who is still standing by the now closed door, her confusion evident in her expression.

“Everything okay?” Misa inquires softly, her concern clear in her tone. Marta softens at the words, and she’s opening her mouth to assure Misa that everything is fine.

Except, that isn’t what ends up coming out of her mouth.

“You’re a really scary person,” Marta blurts out, her own eyes widening when she realizes what she said, and Misa’s confusion grows at the winger’s words, her eyebrows furrowing further.

“Uh…thank you?” Misa answered, unsure of what Marta was really getting at. The goalkeeper was more than aware that some people found her intimidating, but she wasn’t sure what that had to do with Marta. Marta shook her head gently, cursing herself at having managed to fuck this up straight from the get go.

“No, no, that’s not what I mean…I mean you’re really scary, but not to me you aren’t. Like everyone else is really intimidated by you but I’ve never thought of you that way,” Marta explained, and Misa’s eyebrows rose in surprise as she nodded slowly, still not really following Marta’s train of thought.

“Oh…well that’s good. I don’t want you to think of me that way,” Misa replied slowly, and Marta wants to groan, because the goalkeeper is clearly not getting what she is saying.

“No Misa I’m trying to–I like you!” Marta huffs out, and Misa freezes, her whole body tensing as she stares at Marta.

“You…do?” Misa asks gently, and Marta nods, bringing her hand up to chew on her thumbnail nervously.

“Yeah, like…as more than just a friend…you know like in a uh…romantic way. And if you don’t feel the same way that’s fine but I just wanted you to know so that we were on the same page and well I didn’t want to just be dishonest about my feelings cause that isn’t fai–” Marta rambles, and Misa carefully cuts her off after a moment, her own cheeks twinged pink.

“I like you too,” Misa admits, and Marta’s rambling comes to an abrupt stop. The winger can do nothing but blink for a few seconds, not quite processing Misa’s words.

“You…you do?” Marta questions after a second, and Misa nods easily, a small smile tugging on her lips.

“Oh…well that makes things a lot easier than I thought it would be,” Marta offers with a weak chuckle, and Misa’s head tips back in laughter at the clear surprise that is laced in the brunette’s tone.

“Did you expect me not to say that? Cause if so, I’ve done a bad job of making it incredibly clear that I’m a little obsessed with you,” Misa teased lightly.

“Just a little?” Marta volleyed back, and Misa could only smirk in response, delighting in the way that Marta’s face instantly flushed red, the winger ducking her head as she bit her lip.

Oh god, the things Misa would do to feel those lips on hers.

Marta looks back up at Misa after a second, at the distance between the two. She’s only a few paces into the room, but the goalkeeper is still standing back at the door, unmoving.

“Well…what should we do now?” Marta asks, swallowing roughly as Misa’s gaze roves over her, down her figure and back up again, her intent quite clear.

“I could think of a few things…” Misa drawls, and Marta’s lips quirk up in a smirk as she saunters forward, her steps agonizingly slow.

She walks right into Misa’s personal space, forcing the taller woman to step backward until her back hits the door, and she lets out a breath at the feeling. Misa’s eyes jump from the brunette’s eyes to her lips and back again, and Marta smiles as she presses up on her tiptoes.

She stops just before her lips are on Misa’s, close enough that their breath mingles, and when she speaks, her lips just barely brush against the goalkeepers, teasing.

“Oh really? And what would that be?” Marta asks, and just like that the last of Misa’s self restraint snaps at the brunette’s words, and the goalie crashes her lips against Marta’s.

Despite the fact that she knew she was egging Misa on, the brunette can’t help but gasp into the kiss, surprised by Misa’s eagerness.

Her lips are soft against Martas, and she tastes like peppermint chapstick and a hint of chocolate as she insistently presses her lips to the winger’s. Marta wraps her arms up and around Misa’s neck, pulling the goalkeeper into her even further.

Marta teases her tongue at the entrance of Misa’s mouth, and the goalkeeper is more than happy to allow her entrance, her throat making a desperate noise when Marta’s tongue swipes along the roof of her mouth.

Misa takes advantage of the fact that she has her hands at Marta’s hips, and she’s stepping forward and all but shoving the smaller brunette against the door with a huff. When she looks down, Marta is looking at her with hooded eyes and swollen lips and want buries itself deep in Misa’s pelvis, something hot and needy swirling around in her stomach.

Misa bends down just slightly, wrapping her arms wholly around Marta’s abdomen and lifting slightly. The winger understands her action almost as though she could hear Misa’s thoughts, wrapping her legs around Misa’s waist as the goalkeeper's arms anchor themselves on the brunette’s ass.

Marta has her arms still woven around Misa’s neck, and she brings her hand up to the bun sitting atop Misa’s head. Marta works her delicate, nimble fingers around the hair tie, removing it and smoothing Misa’s hair down with a smile on her lips.

The goalkeeper is struggling to control her breathing at the sight, and her breath hitches in her throat as Marta tugs at her scalp dully, anchoring herself in the dark strands of Misa’s hair as she reattaches her lips to Misa’s mouth.

Marta’s lips on hers are bruising and insistent, and their kisses have descended into something sloppy and hot and wonderful. A haze has settled over Misa, and all she feels is Marta around her, the feeling of the brunette in her arms. Marta weighs almost nothing, and suddenly all of those extra gym sessions feel as though they’ve paid off as the winger arches into the goalkeeper when Misa’s hands gently knead at her ass.

Marta’s head is thrown back slightly at the action as she lets out a whimper, and the creamy, soft skin of her neck is just staring Misa right in the eye. Misa can suddenly think of all the times that she found herself staring at Marta’s neck in the same exact way, whether it be during practice, or while they’re eating, or when they’re lifting.

The only difference is that now Misa can do something about it, and so she wastes absolutely no time in leaning forward to attach her lips to the delicate skin there. Her heart skips a beat at the soft, surprised whine that leaves Marta’s lips at the action, and she simply doubles down on her efforts.

Misa nips and sucks her way along Marta’s neck as she turns them around, heading blindly for the bed. She only pulls back when she feels the bedframe pressing against her knees, and she places a final open mouth kiss to the brunette’s rather sensitive neck before she carefully places her down on the bed, immediately coming to crawl up and over her.

The breath feels like it’s been stolen from Misa’s lungs as she looks at Marta, her hair fanned out on the pillow and looking up at the goalkeeper with hooded eyes, her pupils blown and a damn smirk across her lips.

Misa can’t help but crash her lips back against Marta’s, relishing in the way that suddenly Marta’s hands are everywhere. The brunette runs her hands over the goalkeeper's broad shoulders, then down her front, before she slips them under the taller woman’s shirt, running them up along Misa’s abs. The goalkeeper sucks in a breath at the feeling, her body shuddering more involuntarily than anything, and she can feel how Marta smiles into the kiss as a result.

Misa simply leans back, ripping her shirt up and off of herself as Marta leans up to do the same. Neither of the women are wearing a bra, and for a second Misa can only stare at the winger’s body, nothing in her brain except for how insanely attractive the winger is. Marta might be tiny compared to her, but that didn’t mean that the brunette was any less fit, her body lithe and completely toned.

Misa is so distracted by the line of muscles that are littered down the curves of Marta’s body that she doesn’t realize what is happening until she’s on her back, the winger looking down at her with a smirk after she had flipped them.

Marta leans in slowly, until her lips are resting gently on the shell of Misa’s ear, their chests pressed together.

“Much better,” Marta husks, and Misa’s back arches into the brunette’s chest as she lets out a groan, one that has Marta’s smile growing. The winger attaches her lips to the column of Misa’s throat, sucking deeply at the skin behind her ear that has Misa a whimpering mess under her.

Marta works down the goalkeeper's throat, sucking at her collarbone and down to her chest. Misa can hardly breathe she’s so overcome with pleasure, and she doesn’t even bother to be embarrassed at how loud she’s being when Marta wraps her lips around her nipple, her other hand coming to play with the other side of her chest.

Marta flattens her tongue against Misa’s peaked nipple as the goalkeeper arches into the feeling, keening whines and groans tumbling from her lips at the brunette’s careful ministrations. Misa has one hand fisted in the sheets and the other holding the back of Marta’s head, keeping her pressed to her chest as her head is thrown back in pleasure.

Marta works her way down, sucking deep red marks into the underside of Misa’s chest before she lets herself work even further downward, running her tongue along the lines of the goalkeeper's abs, which ripple under her touch.

“God, I’ve thought about doing this an unhealthy amount,” Marta breathes out as she splays her hands along the tanned, muscled skin of Misa’s stomach as she scratches down her abs, and the corresponding moan that Misa releases is music to the brunette’s ears.

Marta presses a kiss to each individual ab before she continues even further south, stopping when she reaches the goalkeeper's waistband, a silent question on her face.

Misa doesn’t even bother answering with words, she simply lifts her hips off the bed with urgency, allowing for Marta to pull her shorts and underwear off quickly, leaving the dark haired woman completely bare on the bed. Marta takes the chance to rid herself of her own pants and underwear as well before she turns her attention back to Misa.

The brunette brings her lips to the inside of Misa’s thigh, pressing a kiss to the skin on the inside of her knee before she works her way up, her breath ghosting right over where Misa wanted her the most before she repeated the action on the other leg.

Misa is practically vibrating under her as Marta fans out, kissing up and over the goalkeeper's hip bone as Misa lets out a frustrated groan, her hips canting up as her grip on the sheets tighten.

“Please,” Misa urged, and Marta decides to take pity on her, quitting her teasing.

The first run of Marta’s tongue through Misa has both women letting out a moan, Misa of relief and Marta of want. Marta brings her tongue back to the apex of Misa’s thighs as the goalkeeper's hips roll down to meet her mouth.

Marta is as precise in bed as she is on the football pitch, and it hardly takes her any time at all to work Misa up, the goalkeeper a bumbling mess under her careful ministrations.

Marta circles her tongue over Misa’s clit with a smooth rhythm, letting the Spaniard’s hips roll down into her as her breath comes out in gasps. It’s when she’s close that Marta finally inserts not one but two fingers into Misa, smiling as the goalkeeper lets out an unabashedly loud moan that sounds suspiciously like Marta’s name.

It only takes a few more minutes of both Marta’s mouth and fingers, quirked in just the right way, for Misa to be screaming out her name, her whole body going rigid against Marta. Misa lets out a guttural groan as her thighs tighten around the brunette’s head and hand, holding her in place as her eyes stay squeezed shut and her body shudders through orgasm.

It takes her a few moments, but after a small period of time Misa’s whole body relaxes back into the mattress as she lets out a deep sigh, releasing Marta from the grip she’s had on her.

The brunette brings her fingers up to her mouth, swirling her tongue around to clean them before she releases them with a pop, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Marta leans in cheekily, kissing her way back up Misa’s body, all the way to her throat before she shifts to the side, collapsing on her back on the mattress next to Misa. She has absolutely no expectation of the goalkeeper returning the favor, she’s enjoyed getting to have Misa under her finally far too much, but it seems that the prospect of having her way with Marta is actually the only thing on Misa’s mind.

“Oh no you don’t,” the goalkeeper husks as she wraps her arm around the winger’s waist, pulling her back up and settling the brunette against her lower abdomen, right above her hip bone.

Marta lets out an involuntary harsh breath as her bare center settles against Misa’s abs, and her breath stutters in her chest at both the display of strength that Misa could pull her up here so easily, and at the smirk that Misa currently has painted on her lips.

“You’re wet,” Misa observes as Marta shifts above her, and it’s the wingers turn to smirk as she nods coyly, a wry smile on her face.

“Only for you,” Marta promises quietly, and Misa lets out a harsh breath as she grips the brunette’s waist just a hair too tightly, pulling the winger forward and rocking her hips against Misa. Marta sighed in relief as she rocked her hips back and forward against Misa’s abs, understanding what the goalkeeper was trying to get her to do. It becomes easier for her to rock back and forth as her wetness coats Misa’s abs, giving her a slick surface to slide against as Misa’s hands help keep her movement steady.

The goalkeeper tightens the muscles in her abdomen with ease, giving Marta a harder surface to grind down against. The pressure isn’t enough to fully get her off, it’s not specific enough, but it still sends waves of pleasure down her spine with each rock of her hips, each brush of her clit against the hard ridges of Misa’s abs.

Especially as Misa watches her, her pupils blown and her cheeks flushed as she stares at the brunette unabashedly, her eyes dark and filled with want. Marta’s hair flows down her back, her chest arched up as she grinds her hips down again and again and again until Misa’s stomach is a complete mess, not that she gave a flying fuck. The air is thick with sex and sweat and the winger’s hips are jumping erratically as she presses even further into Misa, and the goalkeeper can tell that the brunette is starting to grow frustrated, her breathing becoming more labored as she gets more and more worked up, unable to actually finish.

Misa removes her dominant hand from Marta’s hips as her nondominant hand slows the rocking of Marta’s hips. The brunette’s head snaps to Misa, only for her to understand when she feels Misa’s hand tease at her center. Marta has her knees on either side of Misa, and she rises up so that Misa can snake her hand between the wingers legs.

Misa runs her fingers through Marta once experimentally, her fingers sliding easily through the brunette, who lets out a ragged sigh at the feeling.

But Misa isn’t cruel, and as soon as she’s done that does she slips a finger inside of the winger as Marta’s hips rut down at the feeling, a whine tumbling from her lips. Misa smiles to herself as she curls her finger deep in the winger.

“Misa please – oh fuck!” Marta cries out as the goalkeeper quietly adds a second finger, and the brunette’s hips roll down on it with reckless abandon, chasing the high that she can feel curling in her lower stomach already.

The brunette is barely saying anything coherent as she chases her orgasm, and she’s all but chanting Misa’s name as the goalkeeper's fingers curl inside of her, the rhythm demanding and everything that Marta needs right now.

The thing that finally pushes Marta over the edge is when she opens her eyes, tipping toward as she presses a hand onto Misa’s sternum, and the change in angle of her hip pushes the goalkeepers fingers inside of her even further as her eyes rove over that gorgeous fucking smirk that tugs at Misa’s lips.

The coil deep within Marta snaps, and her hips push down harshly as she shudders, her body taught as her eyes slam shut and her head snaps back, a moan wrenching itself out from deep within her chest.

Marta can hardly breathe from the strength of her orgasm as it rips through her, and if it wasn’t for Misa’s hands that brought her down gently she probably would have simply flopped down onto the goalkeeper, her limbs suddenly feeling like jelly. But Misa would never let that happen, simply tucking the brunette into her neck as she wrapped her arms around her back, their bodies relaxing into one another.

Misa peppers kisses to the crown of Marta’s head as the winger catches her breath slowly, and it’s a few minutes before the brunette can pull her head back to look at Misa properly. The taller woman brings her fingers up to tuck a stray strand of hair that fell into her face behind her ear, and Marta leans easily into the action with a tiny smile.

The winger simply tucks herself back into Misa’s neck with a happy sigh, leaning forward to press a kiss to the smooth, sweaty skin she finds there. Misa simply rubs her hand up and down Marta’s back, tracing small shapes into the warm expanse of her back with the pads of her fingers.

“Shower?” Misa asks softly, and Marta nods but makes no move to go anywhere. After a few moments Misa shifts under her, but the brunette simply grips onto Misa more tightly, refusing to let go of the goalkeeper.

“Mmm…don’t wanna leave you,” Marta mumbles into Misa’s neck, and she relishes in the soft rumble of laughter that Misa lets out, a noise that the winger both hears and feels from the goalkeeper's chest, her whole body still pressed against Misa.

“Well luckily for you, I have a solution,” Misa whispers with amusement, engaging her core as she sits up, adjusting Marta in her arms before she stands, the brunette held in her arms bridal style. Misa couldn’t wipe the grin off her face for anything when Marta squeals happily at the action, her arms wrapping around Misa’s neck as she laughs lightly, a huge smile on her face.

One of Marta’s hands slides around to gently cup Misa’s cheek in her hand, her thumb brushing up and down the soft skin of Misa’s cheek, and she watches as the taller woman’s eyes flutter shut, a soft puff of air leaving her chest at the feeling as she presses her forehead against Misa’s.

When she finally opens her eyes, Marta is looking at her with nothing but deep adoration in her eyes, clearly completely enamored with the goalkeeper, same as she always has been.

Misa can do nothing in return but lean forward to press her lips against Marta’s, soft and secure and everything she could have ever hoped for it to be.

#misa rodriguez x marta cardona #misa rodriguez #marta cardona #woso fanfics #woso #woso one shot

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footygirl114 · 2 years

Text

Arbitra (Alexia Putellas X Reader)

11k words later here is my dive into the forbidden world of a player and a referee, hope the hype was worth it!

The feeling of leading out two teams onto the field for your first official game as the head referee was one you would never forget. Being able to feel like you have finally achieved your dreams of reffing a professional game in an international league was amazing.

You never imagined being a ref, but when your playing career dreams got cut short when you had an ankle injury in college you decided to pursue the ref route. After having started your career in the USA you knew you wanted to move to a European league, not liking how refs were treated in the NWSL.

It helped that your name was known as a good ref and when a spot opened to be part of the reffing team in the premier division of the female La Liga you jumped at the chance and moved to Barcelona. The games you reffed in the states didn’t compare to the feeling of leading Barcelona and Sevilla out at the Johan Cryuff.

What you didn’t expect was for when the captains of the teams were called up for the coin toss to be staring into the eyes of your one night stand that you couldn’t get out of your head.

You were immediately taken back to that night less then a week ago, you had ventured into a local bar by your apartment looking for a bite to eat and a drink. This beautiful women had approached you and started chatting you up. You had never gotten along better with a women than with this mysterious beautiful Spaniard. One thing led to another and you had invited her up to your place and when you awoke the next morning she was gone.

Standing in front of her you can almost taste her on your lips and feel her hands on your body. It takes your linesman nudging your arms for you to snap out of it and come back to reality. Knowing that you need to focus you go about your speech and complete the coin toss. It isn’t until you shake her hand and the players move to take a picture that you feel the heat rush to your body.

She has made her way beside you for the picture and as she stands beside you her hand is pressed to your lower back as close to your ass as she could be without touching it. You shudder and know she feels what she is doing to and when she walks away and your eyes meet she shoots you a wink before jogging over to her team.

Shaking your head you know you need to focus on the game in front of you and not how good she made you feel, this was your first game in this league no way were you going to mess it up. That was your mantra throughout the game. Luckily Barcelona easily took care of this game with a 6-0 victory, you definitely didn’t notice their captain score a hat trick.

When you had blew the final whistle you couldn’t help but feel accomplished and excited that you just reffed a professional game in Spain. It made you a bit giddy, and as you were shaking hands with the players you had a smile on your face. It wasn’t until the Barcelona captain came up to you that you felt nerves in your stomach.

“Hola! Good game” she said to you as she approached and offered you her hand to shake.

You shook her hand and she lingered in the hold and used her thumb to rub your palm as you said “thanks you too.”

She winks at you as she says “I hope we see each other soon” and she leaved before you can respond to her.

Feeling the blush on your cheeks you finish up on the field and follow your other refs down the hallway to your change room.

Being the head ref you had to fill out a bit more paper work and were the last to leave the change room, you were busy on your phone looking at a text from your best friend Emily who was congratulating you that you didn’t notice who was waiting for you to exit.

“Hola beautiful” she says to you and it causes you to look up and immediately blush under her praises.

You look down the hallways to see if your alone, and before you can say anything she has stepped towards you but knowing you don’t want to get caught you grab the front of her shirt and pull her into the ref room behind you.

It takes her no time to follow your lead and press you against the nearest wall before connecting your lips. Immediately it transports you back to the night at your apartment and you cant help but let out a moan. Before it can go any further you hear someone taking outside the chnageroom and you slow the kiss and pull back from her.

“So this is a crazy coincidence” you say to her to fill the space.

She laughs and says “I believe in fate.”

You smile at her and cant help but to reach out and brush a lock of hair behind her ear as you tell her “this cant happen you know”

“why?”

You laugh at her pout as you tell her “One I barley know you, let alone your name. Two I am supposed to be impartial as a ref”

She smiles at you and presses another kiss to your lips as she answers with “My name is Alexia, but you can continue to call me God like the other night”

Letting out a laugh you push her shoulder and tell her “seriously though it cant happen Alexia”

“Listen, I am the captain of this team and of the Spanish national team. All my relationships are private why cant we keep this between us. Tell me you do not feel this connection we have I have felt more with you in the 12 hours we’ve spent together then I have with anyone else, and I do not even know your name” she tells you with a serious voice.

“Its Y/N” you respond softly “I feel it too, it’s insane how you can read my mind Alexia.”

She smiles at you and asks “are you willing to let this pass by. Tell me right now and Ill walk out and stop pressuring you Y/N”

Pausing to think about it, you know you cant let her go. You owe it to yourself to explore this connection, knowing deep down that this could be a once in a lifetime opportunity. It has taken you a second to long as Alexia starts to pull away and without thinking you grab her hand and yank her back in to you. You cup her cheeks and tell her “I want you Alexia”

“Yeah?” she asks you back with a smile.

Nodding you close the gap and press your lips to hers hard, trying to show her that you mean it. When you pull back after a moment you say to her “It needs to stay quiet though, this is my dream job and I need it to be a success”

“I do not need a scandal either Y/N, we can keep this quiet. It’ll be exciting.” she tells you with a smile. “give me your phone.”

Reaching in to your pocket you hand it to her and she immediately puts her number in and hands it back to you. She presses a kiss to your lips again and says “call me” as she turns and heads out of the room.

You stand there frozen for a moment not believing what just happened but knowing that you are happy with how it turned out.

It was three weeks later and you have seen Alexia a handful of times and you have not regretted your arrangement yet. Not only was the sex mind-blowing, but the connection the two of you shared when you were just hanging out was wild. You didn’t know there was another person out there who could understand your chaotic mind so well.

You were at her place, she had gotten home in the morning from an away game the day before, and you had been the ref at the Friday night game so you both had a rare Sunday afternoon off together. You both had gotten reacquainted and were lying in her bed, she was on her back and you were stretched out beside her with your head on your hand propped up by your elbow.

As your other hand was tangled with hers on her stomach you asked her “does the pressure ever get to much? I know when I was playing we never had this much spotlight on us.”

She turns her head to meet your eyes as she answers “sometimes but moments like this help to remember that i’m still me and human. Tell me about when you played babe”

Sensing her need for a change in subject you tell her “It was years ago, I was pretty decent too was on track to be one of the youngest players to be on the US world cup squad when a nasty tackle broke my ankle. Had to have surgery and have a rod in there now.”

While you are talking about your injury Alexia turns on her side to face you and you feel her foot tangle between yours rubbing your ankle with her toes as she says “I for one am glad it happened and you came out stronger, it would have never lead to us here now”

“I like this soft side of you” you tell her as you move your thumb to her cheek and rub her cheekbone as you tell her “I like seeing you like this”

“like what?”

Pressing a kiss to her cheekbone where your thumb was you say “bare” kiss to her other cheek “open” kiss to her nose “soft” and you press a kiss to her lips. She deepens the kiss and rolls you on to you back with her body.

Before it can progress any further you both hear the front door bang open and multiple voices yelling out “Alexia!” you meet her eyes and you can see the panic in them as you both scramble out of bed and start looking for your clothes when you hear again “Alexia get your butt out here! Vamos!”

As she throws your bra at you, you hiss out to her “Ale where can i hide?”

She finishes pulling a pair of track pants up and you pause to look at her. She’s standing there in a sports bra with track-pants and you get lost looking at her. She turns and notices you standing there and she steps towards you and places her hands on your hips as she says “see something you like?”

Pressing in to her you place your hands on her abs and you close the distance and press your lips to hers quickly when you pull back you tell her “put a shirt on babe, or they will be getting a show if they come in here”

Before she can answer you hear yelled out again “alexia if your asleep I will be waking you up” and you can hear footsteps coming your way. She shoves you toward her closet and closes the door on you with an apologetic smile on her face.

You lean down and find a spot on the floor to settle in and wait this out, you had to stifle a laugh at the thought of being back in the closet. The door to Alexia’s room swings open and you hear someone ask her “dude you could have answered us?”

And another voice adds “Alexia why are you not dressed?”

A third voice adds “what’s up with your bed sheets Ale?”

“What do you guys want?” Alexia asks them with what you think is an annoyed tone.

One voice answers “we texted and you didn’t answer, but you told us you didn’t have plans. We're hitting up a patio for drinks.”

Another voice asks “Alexia is there someone here with you? is that why the sheets are a mess?”

“Ohhh my god did you have a girl over? is that what took so long answering?” the third voice asks.

Alexia responds immediately “No! no one here. I was just by myself.”

Laughing echos the room as one of the voices asks “just some self love eh Ale?”

You have to hold your hand on your mouth to prevent yourself from laughing and giving yourself away as you hear Alexia answer “What it’s healthy, leave me alone.”

“Lets go then Ale, we all need a drink after that image”

Laughter echos down the hall as you hear Alexia tell them “give me 5 mins to get changed guys”

“fine timer starts now” you hear yelled out and the front door closing as the closet door opens and you see Alexia standing there with a smile on her face.

You stand up and can’t help but to ask “well did you have fun alone babe?”

She laughs and presses a kiss to your lips and says “maybe next time Ill make you watch”

Blushing you punch her shoulder and sit on the edge of the bed to watch her get ready. Once she’s ready she turns to you and says “I’m sorry to cut this short, but they're relentless. Id much rather be back in bed with you”

Pulling her into you for a hug you press your face to her stomach as she’s still standing and you feel her fingers sink into your hair and rub your scalp. The moment is ruined when her front door opens and a voice yells out “Alexia lets go, stop playing with yourself we are waiting for you”

With a groan she pulls back and yells back “yeah one sec” the front door closes and she turns back to you with a smile and says “lock the door when you leave babe?”

You nod and stand up pressing your lips to hers briefly then pushing her away from you as you say “call me?”

“You bet beautiful, see ya soon?” she says as she turns and heads out of her bedroom to the front door.

Sitting back on her bed you take a minute to laugh at the situation before you gather yourself to head home, wishing you were back in her arms.

The next time you see Alexia you are waiting for the players to gather in the hallway outside the change room to be lead on to the pitch. This is the first game you have covered for Barcelona since the first time, and it’s also the first game that you have reffed Alexia since the two of you have started dating.

You haven’t felt nervous since your first game, but this one has given you butterflies in your stomach. You knew since the moment you met Alexia that you had a connection, but you never knew it was possible to get this excited to see someone, you were literally tingling in your boots at the thought of being close to her.

As you thought this it was like she could read your mind, at that moment she stepped out of the change room ready to lead her team onto the field. When your eyes met it was like the rest of the world fell away, you only had eyes for her. You knew in that moment that you were in love with her, and you couldn’t help but give her a small smile.

She met your eyes and winked back at you, it was the only sign that she broke her game face but you understood her and knew exactly what she was like. She marched right up to you leading her team to stand behind you. When both teams are ready to walk out you lead them out on the field, and you cannot help but think about the fact that you are living your dream reffing professionally but you also had no idea following this dream would lead you to your dream girl.

You shake your head out of your dreamy thoughts and you proceed with the coin toss and kick off without incident. It isn’t until half way through the first half that things get interesting for you.

A Levante player took a ball in the face and there was an extended delay for the medics to make their way on to the field, and for the grounds keepers to come on and clean up the blood from the players bloody nose.

You had stood back away from the commotion to give the player and medics some room to work, you were so busy watching the commotion you didn’t notice anyone walk up beside you. “So, are you giving the ball a card?” you hear asked from beside you.

Turning your body slightly you see your girlfriend standing there with a small smirk on her face. You smile at her and answer with “watch it or I will give you one”

She bites her lip to prevent her self from laughing but you cant help but lock your eyes on her lower lip that she has trapped between her teeth. You know she notices where you eyes lock as she bites it harder and she says “Something distracting you ref?”

“You are trouble Captain, be careful or I will be forced to punish you” you tell her.

She laughs and throws her head back slightly as she says “I am hoping you do” as she backs away with a wink and turns to head towards where you see Mapi watching.

Smiling to yourself you think about the absolute dork you fell in love with.

You held on to those three little words for weeks, not wanting to scare Alexia off by saying it too soon you acted like you had nothing to hide and just enjoyed your time and enjoyed these new feelings you recently discovered. Now that you have acknowledged the feelings you had for her you loved how they changed your perspective on everything.

So when you were in your apartment 2 weeks later after having received a terrible phone call from your mum. You hid out on your balcony covered in a blanket on the corner of your outdoor couch, lost in thought you didn’t hear the front door unlock and open, you also didn’t hear Alexia calling out your name, or hear footsteps as she made her way out to the balcony.

It wasn’t until you hear her soft “Oh Y/N” that you looked up from where you were watching the street below to meet her concerned eyes.

When you looked in to the concern in her eyes you felt the emotions you were trying to hold in start to break. Tear gathering in the corners of your eyes you ask her “what are you doing here?”

She stops moving closer to you as she says “I was worried about you, you weren’t answering the phone babe”

“Well I am fine.” You tell her as you look away from her and move to wipe your eyes.

Still refusing to look at her you can hear her sit down beside you and you feel her placing her hand on your knee, which is pulled up to your chest, as she says “Y/N talk to me, you are clearly not okay” she says softly.

“I don’t know why you are here Alexia, I’m clearly not in the mood for sex” you tell her as you refuse to meet her eyes, but you hear the sharp intake of breath from her and you know you fucked up.

She pulls her hand back from your knee and you cant help but hang your head in shame as the regret washes over you, you cant look at her expecting her to leave you. It isn’t until you feel her scoot closer to you and both of her hands cup your cheeks and guide your eyes to meet hers as she says “Y/N, you know thats not why I am here.”

“I’m sor-“ you start before she cuts you off by pressing her lips to yours in a deep kiss full of meaning.

When she pulls back she says to you “I am in love with you Y/N, I am here because I want to be here for you love, whether that involves us naked or clothed, I just want you”

Staring into her eyes you know she means it and you tell her “I love you too, I have been holding that in for weeks”

Smiling she asks “yeah?”

Nodding you tell her “I knew since the Levante game, seeing you break your game face for me, that did it for me Ale.”

She surges forward and presses her lips to yours and you feel your back meet the back of the couch and you tug on her until she shifts over and straddles you on the couch. You feel her hand on your cheek and the other tangles in your hair finding the spot on your scalp she loves to rub when she’s comforting you.

After a few moments she pulls back and says again “I really love you Y/N”

“I love you to Alexia” and you pull her into you and she wraps her arms around your shoulders and you both settle into the embrace. The world feels lighter now that you have finally told her how you feel. Until you remember why you were upset in the first place. You stiffen in her arms and she pulls back from you.

She cups your cheek in her hand as she asks “do you want to tell me why you were upset before?”

“My dog died” you tell her “My mom called earlier to tell me that my childhood dog finally succumbed to the cancer that has been effecting him for the last 3 years”

“Oh Y/N come here” she says as she shifts off of you to settle beside you and pulls you into her arms. You let the emotions wash over you as you feel safe in her arms. Knowing that you can let go and she will stick around is a new feeling for you, but one you revel in.

With your head pressed to her chest you turn your head to look up at her as you say “I knew it was coming, and I know he is in a better place now, but it still hurts Ale”

She presses a kiss to your forehead and says “I know love, I know”

Snuggling deeper into her arms you ask her “can you stay?”

“always, I will always be here for you love, whenever you need me” she finishes with another kiss to your forehead. You love this feeling of comfort that only she has ever been able to provide for you, knowing that she is the one for you.

Getting a last minute game assignment to cover the Real Madrid home hame would normally be annoying but in this case you were quite happy with it. You thought you would be spending the weekend away from Alexia. Instead you were going to get to watch her game on Friday from the stands.

Barcelona was playing Atletico Madrid on a Friday night fixture in Madrid, then the team had the weekend off and the girls had planned to stay in Madrid to watch the late afternoon fixture then party with the other Spaniards before flying home on Sunday. You knew you wouldn’t be able to go out with them, but Alexia had planned to meet you at a cafe before you had to head to the field for your game.

Flying in on Friday afternoon you checked in to your hotel grabbed a light dinner and made your way over to the field. You were excited to experience a Spanish game from the stands and not from the field.

You always knew Alexia was an amazing player, you had done your research, but have also watched her when you were reffing. Yet watching her from the stands and being able to fully focus on her it made you realise just how amazing she was, but also how hot she was. Watching her run around and command the girls and her team did things to you.

They were up 3-0 in the 60th minute when there was an injury and a break in play. The teams were gathered in small groups and strategising, you had your eyes locked on Alexia who was standing with Mapi, Paredes and Patri. You do not know how she found you in the crowd but you can feel her eyes lock on yours.

The whistle blowing causes you both to break eye contact but she winks at you and you see her lips lift into a small smirk when she breaks eye contact. What you fail to notice is Mapi beside her giving you a look, after tracking where Alexia eyes were locked.

The next morning you were sat on the patio of a cafe about 2 blocks from your hotel. When you feel someone walk up behind you and hands pressed on your shoulder. “Hola mi amor” she says with squeeze of your shoulders.

You reach up and squeeze her hand on your shoulder as you say “Hi love, good game yesterday.”

She walks around the table and settles across from you and leans across the table as she quietly says “I want to kiss you so badly right now.”

Feeling the blush spread on your cheeks you are saved from answering when the cafe server comes over and places both your coffees on the table.

“You ordered for me?” she asks when the worker leaves.

Smiling you wrap your hands around your cup of coffee, using it to avoid reaching over and grabbing her hand, as you answer “of course love.” She smiles at you and you just think about how lucky you are to have someone like her in your life. “I love you” you tell her not being able to hold it in.

“I love you too babe.” she smiles at you “how was your night in Madrid?”

“Well I got to watch a pretty decent game of football, where I think one of the star players was making eyes at me” you wink at her and then continue with “Then I had a bath and ordered room service and watched a movie”

She smiles at you and asks “Should I be worried about this star player?”

“Maybe, she’s about your height, very beautiful, plays a wicked game of football and is quite the flirt” you smile back at her.

You feel her foot wrap around your ankle under the table as she says “I don't know how you would think that love”

Before either of you can answer you see someone walk up and stand beside your table and when you look up you immediately feel your stomach drop. You feel Alexia’s leg immediately pull back from yours as she pulls back and straightens up saying “Mapi what are you doing here?”

“The better question is what are you doing here Ale?” she says right back to Alexia without looking at you.

Alexia still sitting rigid says “were just having coffee.”

Mapi pulls up a chair from the table behind her and sits down on it backwards beside your table as she says “do I look like an idiot? This is more than coffee Ale, are you seriously trying to lie to my face.”

“Thats uncalled for Maps” Alexia says. All you can do is watch them spar back and forth, feeling the knot in your stomach get tighter and tighter.

“No it is not Alexia, are you telling me that you are not sleeping with a referee?” Mapi asks.

Alexia looks to you before she answers and she turns back to Mapi and says “Were not just sleeping together Mapi, I am in love with her”

This leaves Mapi speechless as she finally looks at you and you cant help but answer “Its true, I am in love with her too”

“Mapi, we both know what the consequences of this can be, but just let us figure this out ourselves please.” Alexia says to Mapi. “Lets start this fresh, Mapi this is my girlfriend Y/N, Y/N this is Mapi, one of my best friends”

You smile at the footballer and say “nice to officially meet you”

She doesn’t smile back instead she immediately says “If you hurt her or screw her over I will hunt you down”

“Mapi!” Alexia immediately interrupts.

“Ale, love its fine” you say to Alexia and then you turn to Mapi and say “Listen, I have no intention of ever hurting Alexia, I am in love with her. We both know the risks of this but this is new and we wanted to be sure before either of us did anything”

“Its true Mapi we're being careful.” Alexia adds on and then asks “how did you find us?”

Mapi relaxes at this and laughs as she says “I saw my stoic and serious captain break concentration in the middle of the game yesterday, all for a pretty girl. I knew something was up when you snuck out this morning so I followed you”

Alexia punches Mapi in the shoulder as she says “you suck Maps”

Laughing Mapi responds “I don't know why you expected anything else from me Ale”

Turning to you Alexia smiles and says “Sorry love, this is normal for Mapi.”

“Well I hope I get the chance to get to know you Mapi” you tell her with a smile.

“Me too Y/N, someone has got to tell you all of Alexia’s secrets” she says back with a smile.

As the three of you sit there and talk you cant help but feel like this is the start of something, like things were going to change and you didn’t know if it would be good or bad.

The sense of change you felt when Mapi found out about you and Alexia eased when you were away from football. For the next two weeks your football lives didn’t intersect again, and the worries you had were shoved to the back of your mind. You both didn’t like to spend a night apart, meaning you were able to see her almost every night.

Which lead to tonight, it was one of the rare nights you were both going to be apart, Alexia had planned on taking some of the rookies out for a night out, and you were settled in for a night of tv and wine on the couch. You tried to FaceTime your best friend from home Emily but she never answered, which was weird but you assumed she ended up having a late practice.

Deciding on an early night you settled in bed to watch Netflix, the lights on low and you ended up falling asleep with the tv and lights on. It wasn’t until you felt someone crawl into bed behind you did you stir.

“its just me hermosa, go back to sleep” you hear whispered in your ear and a kiss pressed to your temple. You wake up slightly as you feel her arm slide under your pillow and the other wrap over your waist and tangle with your fingers, her legs fit automatically tangled with yours.

Sleepily you ask “what time is it?”

“after midnight, I came here after the bar, didn’t want to sleep without you” she says and she presses a kiss to the top of your shoulder where she moved her head while she’s talking.

You let out a content sigh and pull her arm tighter around you and you whisper “I love you”

“Te amo mi amor” she whispers with another kiss then she leans back and settles on you pillow behind you. You feel content to finally fall into a deep sleep knowing your love was behind you.

Waking up a few hours later you come to and remember Alexia sneaking in to your bed in the middle of the night. You turn on your back and see your love laid on her side with her hand still on your hip that moves to your stomach when you turn.

You hear a phone vibrate and don’t have the heart to move to wake her to grab it. She’s a light sleeper though and you watch as her eyes slowly blink open and you cant help but to move closer and press your lips to her cheek.

“buenos días, amor” she says to you sleepy with her eyes still closed.

She is adorable when she is half asleep so you move closer and move to lie half on her as you say “hi love, I am so glad you came over”

She smiles and moves her hands to your lower back and she presses you into her as she says “I missed you”

Closing the gap you press your lips on to hers, you try to keep it slow but when her hands move under your tank top you deepen the kiss. She uses the momentum to push your tank top all the way up and you lean back straddling her with a smile as she pulls it over your head.

“you too” you order her and she immediately leans up and presses her lips to your exposed throat and you move your hands to the hem of her t-shirt and pull it over her head. The shirt forces her to move back from you and you use the momentum to push her back down as you remain upright.

“You are beautiful” she says to you.

Smiling at her you tangle one of your hands in hers and the other you splay on her abs, loving the feeling of her powerful body under you. You are about to lean down and press your lips to hers when your bedroom door is thrown open.

You don't even have time to react before you hear “Y/N you … Oh my god my eyes!” and the door is immediately pulled back shut.

It’s like time is suspended for a moment as you and Alexia lock eyes and then you hear outside the door “I swear Y/N I come all this way to surprise you and yet somehow you surprised me.”

You smile as you recognise the voice and you yell out “Em, what are you doing here?”

“I came to see you but you are clearly too busy for me!” she yells back through the door. Hearing this you finally move and shift to stand beside the bed, as you move you hear Alexia whine from you moving off of her.

Turning back to her you pull your shirt on and say excitedly “I am sorry, I didn’t know she was coming love.”

She smiles at your giddiness and sits up but before she puts her shirt on she pulls you back towards her and you lean down to connect your lips with hers. Its brief but speaks of what could have just happened and you pull back with a groan as she laughs and says “later babe, later”

“Hurry up or I am coming in! I flew across the world for you” Emily yells out again and you know she’s serious so you grab Alexia’s hand and pull her towards the door. Pausing before you open it to allow her to pull her shirt on leading to a brief frown to form on your face before you remember who’s waiting for you.

“I want you to meet my best friend love” you tell her and pull her into your living room.

You barley have time to release Alexia’s hand before Emily has you wrapped in her arms in a bear hug. You have missed her and you are so surprised at her being here. “Y/N I cant believe you never told me about having a girlfriend” she says

“Em this Alexia, Love this is Emily” you turn and introduce them to each other.

Alexia steps forward and offers her hand to Emily who looks at it and then laughs and says “I know where your hands just were I am not shaking it”

Mortified you squeak out an “Emily” while Alexia retracts her hand and says “If you were 10 minutes later I wouldn’t be shaking my hand either”

“I like you Alexia” Emily says with a laugh and then a light bulb clicks and she asks “Putellas?”

Nodding Alexia answers “Emily Sonnet?”

Emily nods and turns to you and says “leave it to Y/N to bang the queen of football her self”

Feeling the heat go to your cheeks you tell her “its more than banging Em, I love her” as you say this you feel Alexia’s hand land on your lower back and her lips press a kiss to your temple.

Fake gagging Emily responds with “you guys are too cute”

Sticking your tongue out at her Alexia asks “you guys want some coffee?”

Nodding you both follow her to your kitchen where you and Emily settle on the stools at the counter and you watch Alexia move her way around your kitchen to make you all coffee. Alexia turns and asks “how do you two know each other?”

You immediately groan and drop your head in your hands as Emily smiles wide and starts into the story of how you both met. It involves the first practice of your freshman year where you showed up and forgot your boots, leaving the team to laugh at you. The captains made Emily, the other freshman that year, to become the keeper of your boots. After every game and practice the team made sure you gave your cleats to Emily to carry and bring to the next game.

It lasted all season, but at least you and Emily became best friends because of it. It worked because she was there for you when you broke your ankle in the middle of your second year. She was the one who held you when you broke down realising your playing career was over. She was also the one who pushed you to become a ref and supported you through all the training needed. She was your person and seeing her sitting here in your kitchen getting along with your love made you realise you should have told her about this a lot sooner.

When Alexia places a mug of coffee in front of you it shakes you out of your stupor, realising Emily already has one you smile at your love. “thanks for making coffee love” you tell her quietly.

She smiles at you and says “I am going to go grab my stuff and get out of your hair so you two can catch up”

“you don’t have to” Emily says to her.

“I do, I have training anyway. Maybe I can make you both dinner tonight?” she asks

You nod and look at Emily for confirmation who says “That would be awesome, I know Y/N cannot cook at all so this is a treat”

Pushing Emily in the shoulder, Alexia laughs at the two of you and says “I know, she cant even boil pasta correctly”

Emily laughs out loud and you scuff at your girlfriend and huff out “weren’t you gonna leave, I don't like the two of you together ganging up on me”

Alexia walks around the counter and presses a kiss to your temple as she says “get used to it babe, looks like Emily and I are going to be fast friends”

Seeing Emily fist pump out of the corner of your eye you roll your eyes and hear Emily say “Yes Kelley is not going to believe who I am friends with now”

Rolling your eyes you can hear Alexia laughing as she’s walking back to your bedroom. When you turn back to Emily she has settled down and you ask her “so what are you really doing here?”

“duh to see you, and I want to catch the champions league game, I wanna catch Tobin play. You told me you were reffing it so I figured I could watch the game and get to see you” she says with a shrug.

Smiling at her you lean your shoulder against her and tell her “I am glad your here Sonny”

You both sip your coffee in silence for a few minutes when Alexia reappears dressed in some training gear she has left here, she comes over to the counter and says to you both “So I’ll see you both later?”

“sounds good love, text me when your done training?” you ask her.

She steps closer to you and places her knuckle under you chin and tilts your face up to hers as she says quietly to you “Te amo mi amor” and closes the gap between you and leans down and presses her lips to yours.

It takes Emily coughing while saying “I’m still here”

Alexia pulls back with a small smile as she uses her thumb to stroke your chin she looks over your shoulder at Emily and says “I hope you like paella Emily.”

“Of course I do” she responds.

Alexia says to Emily “good” then leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead and says “Ill see you later hermosa, have a good day you two” and she turns and heads out your front door.

As soon as the door closes, Emily immediately says “dude what the hell. You are sleeping with a player?!”

Turning towards your best friend you immediately ask her “What?”

“Come on Y/N you have to know how unethical it is for you to be doing this” she says sternly and continues with “You are one of the smartest people I know, you don’t do things like this what is going on?”

Shaking your head at her you can feel the tears in the corners of your eyes as tell her “I know its stupid, but I cant help it Sonny. I am in love with her”

Sensing your distress she stands up off the stool she’s been perched on she wraps her arms around you and says comfortingly “I know Y/N I know.” She starts rubbing her hand down your back when she says “Good thing I came then, we can get you out of this mess together”

“I don’t want to lose her Son, I can’t lose her” you immediately protest as you pull back and tell her “When I first slept with her I didn’t realise who she was, we met in a bar and I took her home with me. I had never felt that connected with anyone, you know me you know I dont’ sleep around”

Surprised she asks “I know that Y/N, thats why I am surprised. You are normally so responsible and a rule follower. Normally I have to force you to do anything chaotic.”

Smiling sadly at her with a small laugh you tell her “I needed to get out of my apartment and I didn’t know anyone here, so I went to a bar on the corner and sat at the bar and had a drink when she approached me. I was definitely feeling lonely so I talked to her, the more we talked the more I felt the connection we had grow, the more I wanted to know her.”

“Then what happened?” she asks as she moves back to her stool but continues to face you as you tell her the story.

Smiling at the memory you continue “when I walked out the two teams for my first game I was so excited, you know how much reffing here means to me. The energy of the stadium, the feeling of achieving my dreams hit me hard and I was so excited and nervous, then I call the captains up for the coin toss and my one night stand was staring at me in the face.”

She laughs and says “Only you would have this happen to you”

Swatting at her arm you ask “Do you want me to tell you the rest or are you going to keep making fun of me”

Emily laughs and says “go ahead” and motions with her hand a zipping motion across her lips.

You laugh and think about how much you have missed her as you continue to tell her about the game when you saw Alexia again “Honestly, I never expected to see her again, but I couldn’t deny the connection we had. Its been three months and I have never felt this way before Son, I am so in love with her, but I don’t know how we can ever really be together.”

“well good thing I surprised you, we can figure it out together. And for the record, she is so into you its not funny, the little time we spent together this morning I can tell she’s just as deep as you are. As much as it sucks the situation, I am so glad you found the person who can compliment you and love you just as deep” she finished with a small smile.

Surging forward you pull her into a hug and tell her “i am glad you came Sonny, even if you did ruin what could have been an amazing morning”

She pulls away with a “ew Y/N I never thought I would ever walk in on you naked with someone, normally its you interrupting me”

Laughing you tell her “Normally you aren’t with someone else though”

Emily blushes and pulls back as she says “yeah well not all of us have someone like that to satisfy us”

Enjoying the banter with Emily you are so happy she came and you know that if anyone had your back in a situation like this it was Sonny.

The few days before the Champions league game between Barcelona and Arsenal had you and Emily hanging out with Alexia quite often. The fact that Emily was making an effort to get to know your love, even though you didn’t like when they teamed up on you, was amazing. Emily knowing your secret was like a weight off your shoulders you didn’t know you had weighing you down.

Now being able to ref your first champions league game you should be excited but all you could feel was nervous. Knowing that you were breaking so many rules by falling in love with a player had your nerves on edge, you needed to make sure that this game was clean. The last thing you needed was for your reffing skills to be brought under question.

You and Emily had been strategising over how to get your self out of the unethical situation you were in. You were both at a crossroads as to what you were going to do, but you both knew that you needed to make sure any games you reffed when Alexia was playing had to be done to the letter to ensure if there was an investigation nothing would come up.

You got through coin toss and the first 35 minutes without any incidents, other than Alexia winking at you after the coin toss was completed. It was a very chippy game, Barca went up 2-0 within the first 15 minutes and Arsenal were not going to go down without a fight. You tried to let some of the tackles go but when Patri when in a bit too hard you had to call it. You walked up to her and gave her a warning, or the next one would be a yellow, and Alexia was not impressed with it.

“Ref come on they’re giving it just as hard, why aren’t you warning them!” she says to you.

Looking at her you respond “Let me ref the game, and you play captain” walking away before anything else could be said.

You made it to half without any more incidents, Barca led 3-0 and you were worried how the second half would go after the first.

70th minute Arsenal makes a break and their winger Heath cuts across the top of the box and Mapi sticks a league out mis times it and takes her out. Immediately you blow your whistle and award a free kick, you walk towards Mapi calling her over and presenting a yellow card to her. She waves you off with angry face, as you turn to see the Arsenal winger getting treatment.

Before you can say anything else you have someone in your face yelling “Ref that foul and card was bullshit.”

Immediately stepping back you realise its Alexia in your face and you tell her sternly “Thats enough captain.”

“No call the game properly then I won’t argue with you ref” she snaps back at you. At that moment a team-mate of hers walks up to try to get her to calm down but you cant let it go.

You dig in to your pocket and pull out a yellow to present to the captain with a “One more word and you’ll get a second one of these captain”

She looks at you in disbelief as her teammate pushes her away before she can say anything else.

The rest of the game goes off without incident and it finishes with Barca winning 4-1, Arsenals one goal coming from the free kick that Mapi and Alexia both got yellows on. You stand with your linesman’s to shake the players hands noticing neither Alexia or Mapi come up to you. When you walk off the field down the tunnel you catch Emily’s eyes and you know what she’s thinking.

You are thinking the same thing, you need to get out of this league before something happens and you get fired, or god forbid Alexia gets in trouble. The last thing you want is for her to fall under scrutiny or for you to lose your job.

The next day you and Emily had gone out and done some sight seeing around Barcelona, it was her last day here before she had to fly home and she wanted to see some of the sights. Alexia had understandably been a bit upset after the game you knew you wouldn’t hear from her. Once it got too hot for you and Emily you both ended up at the pool in your apartment complex.

You were sitting with your feet dangling in the water, sunglasses on and a Portland hat that Emily had gifted you years ago with a cold beer in your hand. Emily who was not as used to the heat was sitting in the water her arms crossed on the edge beside you, with her beer sitting on the side of the pool.

“so do you think you’ll see Alexia today?” she asked you.

Shrugging you answer “not sure honestly, I get it she needs to cool down after yesterday.”

Looking up at you she asks “so does this make you rethink what we have talked about?”

Kicking your legs in the water slightly you answer “Em honestly what am I going to do?”

“i have an idea” she says with a smirk.

Laughing you flick water at her with your foot as you tell her “I do not like when you tell me that with that face Sonny, it normally means bad things for me”

“Come on Y/N, it won’t be like that time in freshman year, or second year, or senior year, this time I have a very good idea.” she says with a laugh.

Leaning back on your hands you ask her “Okay I will indulge you, tell me your idea.”

“Can you switch to the mens game?” she says with a smile and she kicks her legs out in the pool splashing the water.

You pause and think on it as you tell her “Honestly, I am not sure it could be a good idea. I’d still get to keep my job and training and I think I would get to keep Alexia”

“Dude she loves you, she’s never going to leave you over this. I have seen the way she looks at you Y/N no way she breaks up with you for doing your job” she says and before you can answer you are interrupted by someone coming up to you both.

“Emily is right hermosa, I know you were doing your job and I would never fault you for it. Any other ref would have also given me a card yesterday.” Alexia says as she walks up to you kicks her slides off and settles beside you on the pool edge, dipping her feet in the water.

You turn to her with a small smile and ask “yeah?”

She places her hand on your cheek and smiles and says “I am sorry I yelled at you, and also for avoiding you last night” when she finishes she pulls you towards her slightly and closes the distance between you both and presses a kiss to your lips.

Before you can deepen it you are both splashed with water by Emily in the water as she says “get a room”

Alexia pulls back and responds “that didn’t work out last time for us when you were around”

Offended Emily responds “better than when I’d walk in on Y/N naked by herself”

Immediately you push Emily back into the water to try and stop her saying anything else. You feel Alexia place her hand on your upper thigh as she asks “Can you let her finish this story?”

Emily comes up for air and says “No you never get to finish when I am around”

A laughing Alexia says “good one Emily, good one”

You smile at them getting along as you say “I am gonna miss you Em”

Alexia’s hand on your thigh squeezes as Emily says “you know Kelley still isn’t gonna believe who I am now friends with, we even follow each other on instagram and are in each others close friends”

“what were you guys talking about when I walked up? it seems serious” Alexia asks.

Before you can warn Emily not to say anything she says “We think we have an idea so Y/N doesn’t lose her job for banging you”

Groaning you say “were not just banging”

As Alexia says “haven’t been any banging with you around”

Emily laughs at the chaos and continues “We need to look into the specifics, but if Y/N can switch to the men’s game she would be able to continue her career and keep banging la reina.”

Alexia who is no longer laughing she says “I don’t know if thats a good idea Y/N”

Settling down you ask “what do you mean?”

“I think coming forward would ruin your career, it's better to keep it a secret until at least the end of the season” she says as you pull away to turn to her.

“Alexia your season could be ruined, you could be disqualified from the champions league. We need to deal with this now.” you tell her seriously.

Shaking her head she says “you haven’t done anything wrong, all of our games have been clean. Why make a big deal now?”

Emily chimes in “I think Y/N needs to do what’s right for her, and for you. You shouldn’t put her in this position Alexia”

“stay out of this sonny please” you tell her as you turn back to Alexia and ask “Do you seriously think this is a good idea? staying a secret?”

“I think we need to talk about this more, with more details in front of us Y/N. I think you are jumping the gun and you need some time to think straight” she says.

“Maybe I do, but we need to talk Alexia.” you tell her.

Alexia leans in and presses a kiss to your temple as she stands and says “Y/N you need to think about this seriously, I don't think you need to do it but maybe you need to for you. Why don’t you take some space and think about what you want. Just know that whatever you decide ill be here for you”

“your leaving?” you ask looking up at her with a sad look.

She squats down beside you and says “just for now Y/N, you and Emily enjoy her last night. I will back you either way and if you need me call me okay? I don’t want to cloud your judgement Y/N, this will hurt your career more than mine love” She reaches out to your chin and uses her knuckle to tilt your head up to meet her lips, you deepen her kiss and pour out all the love you have it in.

When she pulls back you smile up at her and say “I love you”

“I love you too, call me?” she asks.

“Of course” as you watch her walk away you shake your head at her as you know she’s doing this for you. It isn’t until Emily grabs your ankles and pulls you into the water that you shake out of it. you surface with a laugh and a “sonny really?”

She laughs at you and says “you needed to cool off after that display.”

You splash her and laugh, thinking the whole time how you are going to miss her and you were so glad she showed up here.

It was early the following week you were sitting on the steps of Alexia’s house waiting for her to get out of training. She had been at an away game all weekend and you were taking the space you needed to figure out what you needed and wanted to do. It was hard but you both were texting and staying in contact with each other.

When you see her walk up you stand up and say “Hi Ale”

She immediately drops her bags and steps up to you and cups you face in her hands and says “hi love, I have missed you” and she presses a kid to your forehead then your nose then your lips where she deepens the kiss.

Its a few moments later when she pulls back and wraps you in her arms. You wrap your arms around her and you whisper into her neck “good game love, you played brilliantly.”

She hums and pulls back place a kiss on your forehead, she turns grabs her bags and your hand and pulls you into her house. You follow her in and watch as she gets settled in and puts her things away and walk into the kitchen. She grabs two beers form the fridge and moves to the couch and turns to you “come here love”

Following you sit beside her and tell her “so i did something today and before you say anything just know I protected you every way I could have”

She turns to you and grabs your hands and asks “tell me love”

“I went to the ref association and came clean to them. I told them I fell in love with a player, I didn’t tell them who though, and that I couldn’t ref the women’s games anymore.” you tell her.

“Oh love, I am so proud of you” she says and she wraps an arm around you and pulls you into her.

You look up at her and ask “you are?”

“of course love, you did what you thought was right and I always wanted that for you” she says.

You press a kiss to the underside of her jaw and you continue with “For now I am on probation, and they have pulled me off the schedule until they look into all my games, with a committee to make sure there were no ethics violations. Then they will make a decision if I can stay licensed and switch to the mens side. But as I was leaving the president pulled me aside and told me he’s been watching me and he says I should be fine, and that he would love to have me on the mens side.”

“Oh love, I am so happy for you. But you know I would be by your side no matter what happens” she tells you with a smile and presses a kiss to your lips.

Not being able to resist her any longer you throw a leg over hers and straddle her as you say “you know it kinda makes me feel a lot lighter having that off my shoulders. You know what else it means babe?”

She wraps her arms around you and settles both her hands on your ass as she asks “I am sure you are going to tell me” as she leans in and places her lips on your neck and works her way up to your ear as she says “or we can celebrate?”

Leaning your head to the side you give her more room to work as you tell her “we may not have to hide any longer love.”

She finds the sensitive spot under your ear as you moan out and she says “Love I know we are adventurous but I would prefer to keep what we do in bed in private”

Laughing you lean back and give her a look and say “you are a dork and I love you”

“I love you too” she says and she puts you down so your lips are connected and you deepen it immediately.

The feeling that you might be able to be free and open soon is freeing and it makes you feel a million times lighter as you enjoy your love for the night.

A week later you received the final word from the committee and you immediately call Alexia. She doesn’t pick up as she was in a photoshoot, but Mapi does. You exchange numbers with Mapi and make your plan to surprise your love.

The next night Alexia had told you that she was going out with her team for the night and she would see you the next morning, even though you know she will end up in your bed, you tell her to have a good time. You wait until you know the team would be at the club when you catch a cab down to the city.

Mapi had taken care of getting your name on the list and when you wonder into the club you are not sure how you will find the team. Looking around you make your way to the bar and you order a drink when you feel a hand on your arm, turning you see its Mapi and Patri.

Smiling you say “hola chicas”

Mapi smiles at you but Patri looks confused as she asks “are you who Mapi has been watching for?”

Shrugging you say “I think so”

“I am so confused” Patri says

“Stick with me kid and all will be revealed pats” Mapi says and she grabs your arm and drags you behind her. You can see Patri following behind you with a confused expression.

You follow her, more like she drags you, into the VIP area where you see Alexia is standing with a group of her teammates and Mapi marches you right up to them. Alexia makes eye contact with you across the group and raises her eyebrow with a confused expression.

“everyone, teammates, friends I would like to introduce someone” Mapi starts and you roll your eyes at her as she finishes with “this is Y/N she’s the newest female referee to join the La Liga crew!”

You meet Alexia’s eyes as you can see the surprise and excitement and before anything else is said Alexia makes her way to you, and immediately has one hand on your cheek and the other on her hip as she asks “the committee came back?”

Smiling you nod and answer “they found nothing wrong and offered me a job with La Liga” as you finish she smiles big and closes the gap between you and presses her lips to yours. Her hand drops to your other hip and you wrap both of your around her neck as she deepens the kiss.

You enjoy the moment until you hear the wolf whistles of her team as you pull back with a blush. Alexia keeps her arm around your waist as you both turn to the rest of the team and Alexia says “Well everyone now that I can officially do this I want to introduce you to my love Y/N”

You turn into her and press a kiss to her jaw as you laugh when you hear one of her teammates ask “so you weren’t alone that day we caught you in your room eh?”

“where was she hiding?” another player asks.

“Oh my god Alexia you shoved the poor girl into the closet?!” immediately the team bursts out laughing and you can feel Alexia holding it in as she turns and buries her face into your neck to hide from the teasing.

You press a kiss to her temple and say “I love you” as your standing here surrounded by her teammates you feel like you could do this for the rest of your life, and you are glad you took that leap so you could have this.

Two weeks later you are standing waiting to lead the players out at Camp Nou, you feel the nerves but you also feel excited. You came to Barcelona to fulfil your dreams and now you have exceeded them.

You walk the teams out and when you find where Alexia said she would be in the stands you meet her eyes and see her standing there with most of her teammates. They told you they were here to support you in your first mens game, and knowing you have them on your side has made your nerves a lot less.

When you lock eyes again she winks and smiles at you and it brings you back to that game when you knew you were in love with her, back to that feeling you got deep in your heart knowing that you love her. The difference is now you know that she loves you too, and that you never have to wonder if anything will come between you.

Moving to Barcelona fulfilled your dreams of reffing professionally, but also it led you to meet the women of your dreams.

#woso #woso imagine #woso imagines #woso x reader #Alexia Putellas #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #espwnt x reader

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