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#alexia putellas
helen-with-an-a · 2 days
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You always have an excuse
Hi. So this is a request and I really liked the idea. Hopefully, I did it justice. I hope you enjoy
Barca Femeni x reader
Description: R always has excuses but eventually slips up.
Word Count: 3.8k
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Shit. Shit. Shit. You were late. You were so late. But it wasn’t your fault; indeed, honestly, it wasn’t your fault. Your parents were not the greatest at being parents. They had you when they were just 16 and far too young to be having children. Sure, they paid for your football stuff and gave you a lot of what you asked for, but it was to keep you quiet and out of the house. You didn’t mind too much. It was easier when you only had to look out for yourself, never telling your parents where or who you were with. You always had a range of excuses ready for anyone who asked – lying and telling your friend’s parents that someone else would be taking you home, saying your mum was just around the corner, she had work so couldn’t come to your matches. It was fine. You knew nothing different.
You signed for La Masia when you were 10. The training was intense, but you loved it. You thrived under the pressure, quickly working your way up the ranks. Your debut for the first team happened shortly before your 16th birthday. You had never felt prouder of yourself.
“And here we have it. At just 15 years old, Y/F/N Y/S/N, making her debut for FC Barcelona Femeni. She’s homegrown, working her way up La Masia ranks. She is definitely a future star.” The commentator said as you made your way onto the pitch. This is what you have been dreaming of since you discovered football. This was the dream that only some people achieved. And you were one of them. A professional footballer. Your life’s goal was achieved.
The game was an easy win. The other team was fighting a relegation battle, as Barca slipped 10 goals past their keeper.
“Vamos,” Patri shouted as she shook you by the shoulders. “A debut and a brace. Is that a Ballon d’Or I see in your future?” You laughed as she wrapped you in a fierce hug.
“Neña, what a performance, hey?” Mapi called as Alexia affectionately hit the back of your head.
“Where’s your Mamí? I’m sure she wants to see you after that performance.” You didn’t even bat an eyelid as you smiled sweetly at Marta
“Oh, she said we’d meet outside by the main gates – saves us from trying to find each other on the pitch and in the crowd.” You waved at the chaos surrounding you. You knew your mother was nowhere near the football stadium – you doubted she even knew you had a football match, let alone your senior debut. It was easy to slip away from the changing rooms; you had significant practice doing it most of your life.
And now you were running so, so late. You had woken up on time, but the food in the house looked a little off, so you rushed to get something from the bakery on your way to the bus stop. But the line was bigger than anticipated, so you were rushing to catch the bus. A man walking in the other direction wasn’t paying attention and crashed into you, causing you to drop your stuff and spill hot coffee all over yourself. That had disrupted your flow, and you missed the bus, having to wait 5 minutes for the next one, which wasn’t a big deal. However, the metro system was delayed. And now you were 10 minutes behind, and then the bus you were supposed to catch from the metro station to the training centre never showed up, so you had to catch an alternative one, making you 30 minutes late. You had texted Jona to tell you you were running late but you knew you had laps waiting for you when you actually got there. You arrived at the pitch hot, sweaty, and tired. This was not an ideal start to the morning.
It was a known ‘Alexia Rule’ that every minute late to practice without a reasonable excuse was a lap. As you arrived at the huddle, one boot on, one still in your hand and your shirt stained with coffee, you could tell she was unimpressed. With all your rushing, you had forgotten to think of an excuse. You didn’t want to tell her the real reason; you had a feeling ‘Oh, sorry Alexia, I’m late because my parents are really shitty, forget they have a kid sometimes, and they haven’t been home in over a week, and the food in the fridge looked a little funky’ would not go down too well. She arched an eyebrow at you.
“Um …” You floundered, thinking about what to say. You could tell her the semi-truth that the metro was delayed and you had missed the buses, but they thought you got dropped off at the top of the road by your dad on the way to work. You could tell them there was traffic, but they all drove, so they knew you were lying.
“You have 30 laps to run at the end of training,” Alexia had a stern voice that you knew meant she was serious. 30 laps? That was basically 10k. Your eyes widened to comically sized proportions. 45 minutes of running around in a circle … after training? She was trying to kill you; you were convinced of it.
“You can’t be serious?” You gawked at her. Her other eyebrow rose to join the other one.
“Deadly.” She said icily and walked away.
Holy fuck. You were really, royally fucked this time. You were so dead. You had to miss training. But again, it hadn’t been your fault. The boiler had broken in your house, which wasn’t a big deal – it was late spring in Barcelona, and you didn’t need heating. But you did need the hot water. You had tried to ask your parents to stay home whilst someone fixed it, knowing that you had training and they could definitely work from home for a day. They had dismissed you with a flippant wave of their hands and continued what they were doing. You phoned the company, asking them to come and fix it as soon as possible. But, as expected, they told you they would be there before lunch, which was the best they could offer. It was now 2.30pm, and there was no sign of them. You had texted Jona this morning, offering a weak excuse of feeling a little rough. You hadn’t expected him to tell Alexia that you were feeling bad, and it sounded like you were home alone.
The knock on the door had you running towards it – thinking it was the person coming to fix the boiler. “Gracias, Gracias. Es el …” You rushed the explanation, not realising that it was not a plumber but rather your irate captain. You froze as you looked up. Shit.
“You look fine, neña. You don’t look like you’ve … what was it? Ah, yes, ‘picked up a little something’.” She was far too calm. You could see her anger bubbling under the surface, though.
“Ale, I-” you tried to explain.
“No, no quiero escucharlo,” she cut you off, a hand raising to stop you. “You lied. You skipped training. Was it worth it? Was it so much more important than training?” She hadn’t bothered to come into the house, standing at your front door, a bag of things meant to help you feel better in her hand. “Here,” she shoved it at you. “You’re on the bench until you can prove that you want to be a part of Barcelona Femeni.” And with that, she stormed off.
Tears welled in your eyes. She hadn’t let you explain … but what could you say? ‘Sorry, Ale, my parents are arseholes and don’t realise that I have a life and a job as well’? ‘Sorry, Ale, I had to wait for the plumber to come and fix our heating and hot water, and no, my parents – the adults in the house – couldn’t do it because they think their time is so much more important than mine’? ‘Sorry, Ale, I’m currently trying to raise myself, and whilst I’m usually ok at it, sometimes I fuck up’? You couldn’t say those things to her. You couldn’t tell her how tough your life could be sometimes … most of the time. You couldn’t tell her that your parents don’t even know you have a game, let alone watch it or attend it. You couldn’t tell her you often wake up in an empty house for weeks because your parents jetted off somewhere again. You couldn’t tell her that you doubt your parents could even tell you your full name and birthday.
She thought you didn’t want to be a part of Barca. Barca was your saving grace. Barca was the only thing that got you out of bed. The friendships you made were the closest thing to a normal family you had. Jana, Vicky, Martina, Patri, Claudia, Bruna, Esmee, Salma … they were your crazy cousins, always making you laugh and willing to go along with your mad ideas. Ona, Aitana, Lucy, Cata, Mapi … they were your big sisters, always protecting you on and off the pitch and lightly teasing you. Ingrid, Caro, Keira, Mariona, Frido … they were the calming aunts that helped you through any predicament. Marta, Paños, Irene … Alexia … they were your motherly figures, the people you could always rely on to love you regardless of what else was happening in your life. Did they think you didn’t want to be there? Barcelona was the single most greatest thing that had ever happened to you.
You looked at the bag Alexia had shoved at you. It was full of healthy smoothies, nutritious snacks, and your favourite chocolates. You could even see a soft teddy instructing you to ‘Get Well Soon’. It made you sob even harder. Eventually, you moved to the sofa. Once you started crying, you couldn’t stop. You cried over everything – disappointing Alexia, having no hot water, being benched, your parents' dislike of you, your seeming lack of support system, how you appeared to fuck up the one good thing in your life. You cried yourself to sleep on the sofa, clutching the bag to your chest and feeling so incredibly sorry for both you and the girls you had failed.
The next morning, you looked horrific – puffy, red eyes, dishevelled hair, blotchy skin. You didn’t even try to hide it as you made your way to the bus stop, ignoring the weird looks thrown your way. You were in a daze as you walked through the metro system and onto the second bus, forgetting to hurry down the side alleys instead of the main road. You didn’t see Ingrid’s car as it drove past you, a concerned Mapi, Ingrid, Ona, and Lucy in it.
“Era que?” Mapi asked, pointing over her shoulder.
“Y/N? Sí, fue” Ona nodded.
“Why, though? She said she gets dropped off by her dad on his way to work.” Ingrid was just as perplexed. You seemed to know exactly where you were going and had stepped off the bus with an ease only known to someone who took the same route every day.
“Maybe it was a one-off? He couldn’t take her today, so she had to get the bus? Although I don’t know why she wouldn’t just ask one of us – she lives on most of our routes to work.” Lucy pondered, all of them confused over you.
“Hey,” Ingrid said as you walked into the changing rooms. You didn’t even smile at her, just nodding and moving to your cubby. “Um … so, how come you were on the bus?” You froze. How did she know you got the bus?
“It’s just that we saw you as we were driving in. If you needed a lift, you could’ve just asked; you know we’d all be more than happy to —” Ona explained.
“Yeh, my d-dad only told me this morning that he couldn’t take me the whole way, so … he dropped me off near the metro, and I just got the bus from there,” you lied, rushing to gather your boots and head to the pitch. It was a blatant lie. Your voice was too high, and your hands shook slightly as you tried to devise a realistic excuse.
“Todas sabemos que era una mentira, verdad?” Mapi looked around as the door swung shut.
The following month in training was awkward, to say the least. After your slip-up with the bus, you made sure to take the earlier trains, getting to training before most people had even left their beds. You figured you’d use the time to prove to Alexia and the others that you wanted to be there. You were still benched, but your name was still on the game day sheet, so you liked to believe they weren’t thinking of selling you or cancelling your contract after the season ended. The issue was getting home. If you stayed late, you were often questioned, but if you were seen walking out of the car park, you were also questioned. You really needed to learn how to drive ... quickly.
Eventually, Jona could no longer justify you sitting on the bench. Barca had the Champions League semi-finals coming up, and everyone noted your absence on the pitch.
“Y/N, you will be playing the next match. You’re going to be a sub around 60 or 70 minutes.” It was a short announcement, but you couldn’t help your heart soar. Did this mean they finally believed you when you said that Barca was the best thing that happened to you? Alexia still hadn’t looked at you since That Day, but she was no longer actively seething, which you took as a win. But now you would be playing in the home leg of the Champions League semi-finals. You were nervous, but not because of the match; you were on a 0 – 3 aggregate, and you were going to be playing at Camp Nou – it was an almost guaranteed win –but because you knew the team would be more suspicious of your lack of parents.
You decided to do what you always did – never look to the crowd, do a lap of the stadium for the fans, hurry back into the changing rooms, and slip away. Simple. Easy. You had been doing it all your life. But you hadn’t accounted for how attentive the team would be. They watched you wearily from a distance, concerned when you made no effort to look to the friends and family section during warm-ups or after the match when everyone usually went to see their loved ones. You stayed back, signing more things for fans, and then headed straight to the tunnel. After the celebration in the changing rooms, you gathered your things and disappeared before anyone could bring them up. You had mastered the art of vanishing like a ghost after matches.
But now it was the final. It was obviously an away game, but everyone’s family came. Even the coaching staff brought their loved ones. Not you, though. Your parents hadn’t known you’d left the country, let alone understood that you were playing in the most prestigious match in Europe for clubs. You were in the Starting XI, but you weren’t nervous. You knew you could win this match; this Champions title was yours for the taking. You didn’t realise that the fact that you had no family would be exposed the minute the final whistle went.
You played the full 90 minutes and an extra 5 for injury time. You were exhausted, but that didn’t matter as soon as the clock ran out. You had done it. Champions of Europe. The screams and shouts were so loud it hurt your ears, but you didn’t care. You felt unstoppable.
“Vamos, pequeña. Donde esta tu mamí? Quiero finalmente conocer a la mujer a la que debemos agradecer por regalarle al mundo contigo.” Mapi said as you sat on the grass, your medal around your neck.
“Más tarde. I just want to sit here and soak this all in.” You waved her away. She took you at your word but made meaningful eyes at Alexia, having an unspoken conversation as you moved away. Alexia watched as you leaned back, resting on your arms, legs outstretched, and eyes shut – head tilted to feel the sun on your skin. She waited for 10 minutes, watching you make no effort to see your family. It was the first thing she had done after the trophy celebration. She had run straight to her mother and sister, thanking them profusely for all their sacrifices and expressing so much gratitude towards them – throwing her sweaty body at them and tackling them into long, tight hugs.
“Do you want to see your family now?” It was the first non-football-related words she’d said to you in well over a month.
“No, I’m ok. I’ll see them later,” you dismissed her quickly.
“Do you know where they are? We could bring them down onto the pitch if you don’t want to stand up.” She wasn’t letting this go. She had an inkling that she hoped was wrong.
“It’s alright, Ale. Honestly. I’m fine sitting here, soaking this all up by myself.” You hadn’t opened your eyes, so you had assumed from the quietness she had moved away. “It’s not like you’d find them anyway,” you whispered as an unwanted tear escaped you.
“Qué quieres decir, cariño?” Your eyes snapped open, coming face to face with Alexia, Ona and Keira. You sat up, trying to hide your face.
“Oh, noth-”
“No me mientas. Dónde están tu mamí y papí?” Alexia asked sternly. You misunderstood her, thinking she was angry at you. You shook your head, refusing to answer.
“Neña, are your parents here?” Ona asked quietly, coming to sit next to you. You took a deep breath.
“No. They aren’t.”
“Do you want to phone them?” Keira suggested, hoping that it was just because they couldn’t take time away from work to attend in person. She also sat down, gesturing her phone to you as an invitation to use it. You took another deep breath.
“I don’t think they even know I had a football match, let alone a Champions League final.” Another tear slipped down your cheek. Alexia sat in front of you, reaching for your hands.
“Qué quieres decir?” She asked again, thumbs rubbing gently over the backs of your hands.
“My parents … I don’t really know how to say it,” you paused, Ona gently rubbing your back comfortingly. “My parents don’t really … parent?” You chuckled lightly.
“They don’t support you?” Keira asked, her hand resting on your knee.
“They don’t care enough. They leave for weeks on end without telling me. I get food and stuff like that on my own. I’m basically raising myself at this point. I don’t think they know I have a contract with Barca. I doubt they even know I play football. They just let me do whatever I wanted as long as I was out of the house, not causing trouble and quiet; they didn’t care. They’re lucky I haven’t turned into a criminal or something.” You tried to add a joke to lighten the mood.
“But you said you meet up with your parents after home matches,” Ona couldn’t imagine achieving half the things she did without her family supporting her from the sidelines.
“And you told us your dad drops you off every morning on the way to work,” Keira added, equally disbelieving – her parents were her biggest fans.
“Yeh, I lied. I just go home after matches. And I get the metro to training.”
“But training is nowhere near the metro, and you don’t live near a metro station either.” She still didn’t want to consider what you were saying to be true.
You explained, “I get a bus from mine to the metro and then a bus from the metro to training.”
“That’s why you were getting off the bus that day when we saw you,” Ona realised. She hadn’t trusted your story but had considered no other possibilities.
“That’s why you're late to training sometimes? Because of the buses and trains?” Alexia asked, her hands never leaving yours.
“Yeh.” You looked down, ashamed of your situation and lying to them.
“And that day when you missed training. You weren’t sick. What happened?”
“I … um … the boiler broke, so I had to wait for someone to come fix it. Which they never did, by the way. I had to phone some random company that massively overcharged me, and the water definitely doesn’t get as hot as it used to.” You babbled nervously. “It wasn’t because I don’t want to be at Barca. It’s the only thing that keeps me going, knowing that I have you guys looking out for me. It makes everything else seem not as bad,” you whispered, needing them to know just how important Barca was to you. You looked around. Patri and Pina tried to do the perfect chest bump as Jana and Bruna filmed. Lucy was chasing her niece and nephew. Ingrid and Mapi were with Ingrid’s parents, smiling widely as they talked. Marta and Caro were sat off to one side, talking quietly. You could see the others dotted around the stadium, talking to fans, speaking to parents, and enjoying the support.
“Cariño, I am so sorry,” Alexia implored. I shouted at you and benched you. I’m sorry I made you think I didn’t believe you took Barca seriously.”
“Why didn’t you tell us, neña?” Ona asked.
“We only want what’s best for you, kid,” Keira added.
“Um … I don’t really know. It doesn’t really matter. It’s been like this my whole life, so…”
“Cariño. It does matter. But we know now, and that’s all that matters, sí?” Alexia stood up, dragging you with her. “Let’s go see my family. Mi Mamí has been asking to meet you for ages. And before you say no, she already has plans for you to come round for dinner one night. Y en secreto, ella siempre quiso una tercera hija.” She said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as Ona took your hand.
“Oh, Eli will have to fight my Mama on that one, Ale. She always wanted a goal-scoring daughter.”
“Well, my mum says you are more than welcome to stay at her house if you ever visit the UK as long as you cook her paella.” Keira smiled.
Maybe your biological family was shite, but your found one certainly wasn't.
I hope you liked it <3
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pinkyqil · 3 days
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She definitely enjoys hitting people around her it her love language at this point 😭
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mytearsricochvtt · 2 days
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strawberry kisses || a.putellas
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not entirely sure if i like this or not, have had this idea for a while and finally got round to writing it while i was watching greys anatomy lol also not proof read so very sorry if there is any mistakes xo
strawberry kisses || a.putellas
alexia loved to kiss you, she would tell you that it was just because she loved kissing you, but you knew it was because of the lip balm that you wore. alexia didn't like the taste of strawberries a year ago, but that all changed the day that she kissed you and your lips tasted of strawberries. since then she has demanded that you never change your lip balm.
that was until you couldn't find it, you went to put it on in the morning after you had done your skincare but when you went to go get it, it wasn't siting on your bedside table where you thought you had put it before you went to bed.
you had searched high and low for it, trying to rack your brain to think where else you maybe had placed it. but wherever you looked it wasn't anywhere to be found.
lucky for you alexia had left an hour earlier for training, always liking to be the first person there to go over a few training drills on her own, while you would rather have an extra hour in bed. so you were hopeful that you would be able to find it before you would have to start getting ready, but after thirty minutes of looking and still no luck, you thought it would be better to stop looking for now and get changed, crossing your fingers that it would spring to mind where you had left it when you weren't looking for it.
but you of course weren't so lucky. so you had to quickly gather all the things you need for training and hurry out the door. silently hoping that maybe you had left it there instead.
_
when you arrived at training and went to the changing room all the girls bar your girlfriend were already changed and ready to head out. irene seeing your confused look told you that alexia was in the gym, which you thanked her for before you quickly changed into your training clothes. taking a quick look around the room trying to see if your lip balm was laying around here. but after looking everywhere you could think of and still not finding it, you gave up any hope of ever finding.
you let out a sigh of frustration, running your hands through your hair before you made your way to the gym with the rest of the girls.
you caught up with mapi and ingrid making polite conversation with the two, but after seeing you lick your lips every couple seconds of trying to hydrate them, ingrid held out her own lip balm for you to use.
"seems like you could use this." she told you, giving you one of her smiles that made her eyes crinkle.
"you have no idea. i lost my favourite lip balm and i get find it anywhere!" you ranted, applying the balm that she gave you. "oh, i like the flavour of this one!"
"it is raspberry jelly, you can keep it!" she told you, when you tried to hand it back to her. "seems like you need it a lot more, plus i have another one in my locker!" she then added on once she saw the look mapi gave her.
"thank you! i don't have a back up." you smiled, giving the norwegian a quick side hug.
"you don't have a back up? or a back up for your back up?" the girl questioned, making you frown at her. "a what? that's a thing?" you asked, making mapi let out a laugh.
but before either of the girls could answer you, you arrived at the gym where the rest of the girls were, making you realise that the three of you had taken a lot longer than you thought.
as soon as you walked into the room you instantly spotted alexia doing some light exercises with patri, you stared at her for a few moments, taking in the way she looked while she was doing the leg stretches and how good she looked while doing them.
you saw her eyes glance around the room, you assume she was looking for you as not even three seconds later her eyes land on you. you saw her say something to patri, before she stood up and made her way towards you.
you didn't get a chance to greet her properly before you felt her grab your hips and pull you into her, pressing her lips against your own, it didn't last as long as you would have wanted, as she pulled away before you could count.
when you opened your eyes again, you saw the confused look that had taken over her face, a slight pout on her lips. "you will gets lines," you reminded her, gently running your pointed finger over her forehead.
she tilted her head slightly before she kissed you again, this one lasted a little longer than the last one, but she once again pulled away too quickly for your liking.
"what's wrong?" you asked her, when you saw the look of confusion on her face once again.
"you changed the flavour of your lip balm."
"yeah, i lost the strawberry one and could not find it anywhere! so, ingrid gave me her spare one, but apparently i should have a back up, and a back up for the back up."
"you don't have a back up?" alexia questioned, "since when was a back up a thing? and why am i now just finding out about it?"
"what flavour is it?" your girlfriend asked, "raspberry jelly. why? don't you like it?" your frowned, "it's not that i don't like it, i just liked the strawberry one a lot better."
"i am sure it will grow on you just like the strawberry one did," you said, lightly scratching the back of her neck. "i love the strawberry one though! Era mi parte favorita de besarte,” she pouted.
you let out a small gasp, "you mean to tell me that the only reason you kissed me that much was because of the taste of my lips?" you joked, making alexia chuckle.
"the taste of your lips is my idea of luxury!" she told you, placing a handful of kisses to your lips. "i kissed you because i love kissing you, and because of the taste of your lips." she joked, "but seriously, you need to get more of the strawberry one, i like that one a lot more!"
"hmm, maybe i will just keep using this one."
"then maybe i won't kiss you as much."
"then you will be missing out, because of my lips are fucking amazing! y'know, maybe i should find someone else who will appreciate the taste of my lips." you joked, unwrapping her arms from around your waist, pretending to look around the room.
but before you could do anything else, you felt two strong hands grab your hips, pulling you flush against her front. "is that the best you could do?"
"i heard ingrid is a good kisser, maybe i should go and kiss her instead, i am sure mapi won't mind-" you didn't get to finish your sentence before you felt ale's lips pressed against yours, one of her hands found home on your hip while the other slide up your side until her hand rested on your neck.
she didn't choke you, just kissed you so deep you forgot whose air you were breathing.
you were thanking god that you were stood in a place where no one else could see you.
“Nadie más puede hacerte sentir como yo cuando te beso, mi amor”
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inuyashaluver · 2 days
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Hi lovely I love ur stuff 🩷 I have a little request/idea - obviously feel free to ignore it
I was thinking R has a really thick accent (English - either Scouse (Liverpool), Geordie (Newcastle) or West Country (Devon/Somerset/Farmer) or Aussie or something really thick like hard to understand from native speakers let alone anyone else) but R plays in Barca and has a crush on a Spanish player (Maybe Patri? maybe Ona? Maybe Alexia?) and is tryna talk to them more and maybe ask them out but they just get looked at funny and they walk off and she goes to Kiera and Lucy and is like what have I done? Do they all hate me? And [Crush] overheads them and goes round to their house after training and is like I really wanna get to know u, I think you’re really pretty etc but I cannot understand a word that comes out of ur mouth to the point where I am questioning whether it’s English
qué? - alexia putellas
alexia putellas x reader
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description: in which your accent proves to be difficult to understand
warnings: LONG!! swearing, misunderstandings, spanish in bold italics
a/n: i love this woman, your honour!! i was writing alexia angst but had to put out the fluff haha!! thank you so much for the love and request, lovely!! ily and enjoy ❤️
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you never thought your accent would get you into trouble but you were entirely wrong. and we’re not talking about trouble like criminal, we’re talking romantically.
you’re from liverpool, your thick, scouse accent distinct in your dialect. at home in england, the accent was understood most of the time, with an occasional person asking for clarification about your words but you didn’t mind.
even some of your england teammates had to ask you to repeat yourself occasionally when you got overly excited or stressed, your accent proving to be the hardest to understand at those moments.
you often needed a translator for even native english speakers if you spoke too quickly, lucy and later grace helping out when people were truly confused.
when lucy and keira moved from manchester city, you moved with them, having played in the club for 2 years and desperately wanting a change. and so, when the contract arrived from barcelona for the three of you, you accepted it without a second thought.
you had supported barcelona in liga F, having a huge appreciation for the way the spanish players moved, the quick passes and the goals that came out of nowhere. you were excited to pick up those skills to adapt to your own play.
and through your extensive research, you grew a special appreciation for alexia. in your eyes, alexia was the definition of perfect, not only her football skills, but her as a whole.
you would watch her interviews and videos for ‘research purposes’, claiming it was to practise your spanish. and it was, until you zoned out hearing the gentle hum of alexia’s voice, getting distracted entirely but you weren’t complaining.
when you got caught making heart eyes at your phone during england camp, the teasing was so relentless it wasn’t even funny.
“our little (y/n) has a crush on la reina! (the queen)” lucy exclaims in the change room, you immediately turn off your phone and look up at her with an icy glare, only making her smile at you affectionately with a pinch to your cheek that you were quick to swat away.
“you’re not much older than me” you glare, “5 years is 5 years” she shrugs, moving away when you launched an empty bottle at her.
“go on, tell us about your crush” leah smiles, millie and rachel pretend to kiss each other while looking at you and you heat up in the cheeks.
“i’m only watching so i can pick up spanish” you defend, lucy laughs loudly, out of the three transfers, she was definitely the one who picked up the most spanish.
“excuse me, lucia, and everyone in here,” you scoff, “is it such a crime to watch a video of my future captain?” your accent was so heavy at this point, everyone cracked a little smile at you.
“so you were watching videos of alexia then?” leah smirks, you let out a frustrated groan, “leah, shut up man” everyone laughs, the teasing continuing until keira and alessia told everyone to stop.
during the whole of camp, it wasn’t uncommon you got caught looking at photos or videos of alexia, the teasing was so bad you thought you would explode.
when the time finally came for you to join barcelona, you were incredibly nervous. the fear of underperforming playing on your mind, only becoming worse at the thought of embarrassing yourself in front of a certain blonde you couldn’t take your mind off.
lucy and keira assured you everything would be fine, but you weren’t convinced, unsure of how you’d react when you finally saw alexia.
when you all walked to the change rooms, it was shocking how welcoming everyone was. hugs and kisses to the cheeks had you feeling so accepted amongst your new team.
and funnily enough, the last person to greet you was alexia, sending you a charming smile that had your stomach erupting with butterflies.
“(y/n), yes? bienvenida! (welcome)” alexia grins, her arms pulling you into a warm hug, her scent enveloping you and making you borderline dizzy.
“(y/n) is a big fan of you” lucy teases as alexia lets you slip from the hug after you mumble a quick hello. alexia gives a surprised smile, looking between a cheeky looking lucy and a sheepish looking you.
“you’re very good, too, I look forward to playing with you,” alexia’s hand moved to give your bicep a gentle squeeze and you swore your heart stopped, your cheeks were tinged with pink and you could barely formulate a sentence.
“yeah, i’m excited to play with ya” you breathe out, you move to your new cubby and get changed into the barcelona kit, feeling at home already even though it was your first day.
due to you busying yourself with avoiding alexia, you missed the way her gaze lingered on you as you changed, she was intrigued by you.
what you didn’t know was alexia had done her own forms of research. she had heard your name countless times in the media, a rising star in the making.
she respected the way you played, a midfielder who wasn’t afraid to take risks but also managed to avoid fouls frequently.
she wanted to get to know you as much as you wanted to get to know her.
weeks and months fly by and it was easy to say you felt comfortable amongst the team. your spanish was surprisingly getting better, being able to go through training without a translator most of the time.
the girls reciprocated you well, you’d go to team bonding nights and laugh and joke around with them. it was obvious to everyone except alexia that you were harbouring a crush on the captain.
the ways your eyes would follow her every move with pink cheeks honestly exposed yourself. and what made it harder was that alexia and you were growing closer each day.
one day you were chatting with mapi and ingrid, more like you getting teased while you begged them to stop before you were interrupted by a certain someone.
“do you want to be my partner?” alexia questions from behind you suddenly, making you choke on your own spit as she looked at you with a kind smile. “really?” you breathe out, she nods, nodding her head to the pitch for you to follow her.
you’d both been able to converse easily as the months went by, she’d have to ask you to slow down a couple of times when you both talked about something you had in common but it worked.
as you both trained together, you chatted and laughed, talking about random topics.
when you both got to shooting practice, alexia analysed your every move. she would give little nods of approval when you touched the ball, sending you an encouraging smile if you made eye contact, your heart was fluttering around her.
“you should put more weight into your hips when you kick” alexia corrects, you look at her questioningly, she huffs out a little laugh and comes to stand behind you.
her large hands place themselves on your hips and she turns them slightly to the front. her front was pressed against your back and you certainly weren’t breathing. she noticed you tense but chose to ignore it.
“focus here before you kick so it’s stronger” alexia says next to your ear, squeezing your hips gently before letting go of you. “try again, vamos! (let’s go)” she exclaims, you do as she says with her corrections and it was a much better result.
she smiles proudly, “buena niña! (good girl)” she laughs, coming up to you to squeeze your shoulders encouragingly, your cheeks were burning.
the entire team watched the interaction with big grins, ready to tease you for how sheepish you looked.
“gracias (thank you), ale” you scratch the back of your neck with an embarrassed smile, she shakes her head, “it’s nothing, thank me with a goal next game” she jokes, pinching your cheek teasingly before walking off to get some water.
you’re left there in shock, lucy and keira approaching with cheesy grins. “you’re in love” lucy coos, poking your shoulder teasingly while you shielded yourself in a hug from keira.
“i’m so fucking stupid, why can’t i be normal” you groan, keira laughs, her hand rubbing up and down your back. “you’re just shy, which is weird to see because you’re the complete opposite” she laughs, you pull back to throw her a glare.
“it’s cute” lucy chuckles, “i can’t wait to tell everyone about the development” she grins, her and keira share a hearty laugh seeing your face go pale, while you attempted not to scream.
“don’t you fucking dare” you grit out, “i won’t” lucy winks, unfortunately she did and by the time training was over, your phone was blowing up with text messages talking about the interaction.
you looked at lucy with a stone cold glare while she blew you a kiss, alexia watched how angry you were, she could practically feel it radiating off you on the other side of the change room.
“estás bien? (are you okay)” alexia walks up to you, holding a cold drink out to you. you take it after a moment of hesitation, “uh, yeah, sí” you smile, “lucia is annoying you?” alexia grins, looking over at lucy to see her and keira whispering while looking at you. “yes, she’s very annoying” you grumble, your eyebrows furrowing.
alexia smiles fondly at you, her hand moving to your face, her thumb smoothing out the crease between your eyebrows. “wrinkles” she tutts, your breath caught in the back of your throat as you looked up at her.
“are you coming tonight?” she says like she didn’t just make you flatline. she’s talking about a team bonding session at her house. “yeah, i think so” you smile at her, “think or know?” she teases, was she flirting with you?
“know, i’ll be there” you mock, she nods with a pleased expression, “hasta luego, lindura (see you later, cutie)” she winks, moving to grab her bag from her cubby and leave, making sure to look back at you another time with a soft smile before walking out.
you get pulled out of your trance once you hear your phone blowing up again, checking it to see lucy had recorded you watching alexia leave. you throw your head back in frustration but chose to avoid letting the older girl feel your wrath, you were still on a buzz from the thought of alexia flirting with you.
when you arrived at alexia’s house, you brought her a bottle of wine with a sheepish grin. when she opened the door for you, she pulled you into the warmest hug, both of you fitting together like a puzzle.
“finalmente! (finally) i was waiting for you!” she grins as she pulls away, taking the wine out of your hands and grabbing one of yours to drag you into the living room where everyone was.
her hand was so warm against yours, soft against your skin and you really didn’t want her to let go. “you look beautiful” alexia smiles before she ushers you to sit down, you barely had the time to tell her how breathtaking she looked, dressed casually but still looking like she could be on the front of a magazine.
you sit next to mapi and she immediately bombards you with questions, “have you kissed yet?” she questions, you slap her knee, “ingrid, your girlfriend is a bully” you huff, ingrid laughs, nodding along with you with an apologetic smile.
everyone was watching a movie while eating, alexia sitting beside you, the two of you would chat back and forth with small giggles and smiles shared between you.
by the time the night was ending, alexia’s arm was resting behind you on the couch, basically over your shoulder while you were in your own little bubble.
when you left that night, you couldn’t stop thinking about all the interactions you had with the catalan, you needed to do something about it. fast.
on a match day for barcelona, you decided it was time for you to tell her about your feelings. it was clear you were flirting with each other. confirmed during the game.
in the second half, you managed to get a goal, using the technique alexia had taught you a couple of days prior.
she was the first one to you after, the loud roar of the crowd drowned out when you felt alexia’s strong arms wrapping around your waist.
you both smiled so brightly as she congratulated you, placing you on the ground, giving you an affectionate kiss on the forehead and squeezing your shoulders. this told you everything. it wasn’t just her being friendly, it was alexia making a move.
at the end of the match, the two of you lingered in the middle of the pitch, you were fidgeting so much alexia was worried.
“(y/n)?” she dips her head to make eye contact with you, “estás bien? (are you okay)” you nod, opening your mouth to speak but nothing came out. “take a deep breath” she smiles, a hand on your shoulder offering you comfort but also stressing you out.
“ale” you start, she nods with an encouraging smile, “i really fancy ya, ale, i’ve been wantin’ to tell ya for a while” you blurt out, alexia’s eyebrows furrow, she looks a little confused.
the silence was loud, why hasn’t she said anything back. if this was her rejection, it hurt more than anything she could have verbalised.
“you know what, forget i said anythin’” you run off before she could say anything. “qué? (what)” she was about to ask you to repeat yourself, one - because you were speaking too fast, two - she didn’t know what fancy meant.
you heard her call out for you but you ran into the change room, knowing keira and lucy were in there. “keira!” you yell, “fucking check my pulse!” you shove your arm in her face and she looks at you in shock. only a couple of people were inside, and the ones that were were shocked at how you tumbled into the room.
“jesus, your heart is going so fast” keira says as she presses her fingers to the inside of your wrist. “fuck, why couldn’t you tell me i’m dead and this is a nightmare” you groan, your hands running over your face frustratingly.
“what’s wrong with you?” lucy says as she walks out of the shower to see you in absolute shambles. “everything!” you explain each and every detail and they look at you sympathetically, understanding now why you were so upset.
what you didn’t know was alexia was outside, ear pressed to the door as she heard you explain that you were trying to confess. she feels her stomach tighten, cursing herself for not understanding what you were saying.
“whatever, i’m going home, don’t follow me” you grit, tears pooling at your waterline as you rush out. alexia had moved out of eyeline when she heard you, quickly going into the change room and drilling lucy and keira for your address that they happily gave her with sly grins. happy to know it was all a misunderstanding.
that afternoon, you hastily wiped your tears away thinking about alexia. you had misunderstood her intentions clearly, you were disappointed with yourself.
you heard the banging from the front door and groaned, knowing your fellow england teammates were probably on the other side with ice cream and apologetic smiles.
“i told you both not to follow me-” you huff, the door opening to see alexia standing there, a bouquet of bright flowers in hand. “hola (hello)” she smiles, “what are you doing here?” you ask softly, “can i come in?” you nod, moving back a little so she could step inside. she hands you the flowers and you take them with a confused expression.
what type of rejection was this?
“i heard you speaking to lucy and keira before” she starts nervously, both of you walking to the kitchen so you could put the flowers in water, they were beautiful.
“it’s fine if you don’t feel the same” you shrink into yourself, brushing the petals of one of the flowers between your fingers.
“hermosa (beautiful)” she calls out, moving around your counter to stand directly in front of you. “me gustas mucho, y quiero estar contigo (i like you a lot, i want to be with you)” she says earnestly, speaking in her mother tongue and hoping you understood because she was speaking from the heart.
you freeze, each and every word quickly translated in your head. “amor (love), you’re very beautiful and nice but you speak very fast, i did not understand a word you said before” she laughs, you can’t help but laugh too, shaking your head at how fast you fled the situation.
“i’m sorry, ale” you grin, “don’t be” she dismisses, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, relishing in the blush she just produced on your cheeks.
“me gustas mucho (i like you a lot), alexia” you smile, she gives you a dazzling expression, appreciating how you spoke her mother tongue to her so she really understood this time. “muy bien, preciosa! (very good, precious)” she coos affectionately, her hand cradling your cheek as she directed your eyes to hers.
“we will teach each other, sí?” she grins cheekily, you hum along with her words, “sí”.
she pulls you closer to place a sweet kiss on your lips, your stomach lurching at how soft they were against yours.
you both smile into it as she drew you closer, your arms wrapping around her neck while her free hand came to rest on the small of your back to press you against her.
she pulls away, not without pressing a few more kisses to your lips through the giggles and the small chatter between the two of you.
when you both came to training the next day hand in hand, sighs of relief were heard from everyone. lucy whipped out her phone as quickly as she could and sent pictures to the england group chat, your phone blowing up more than ever.
now that the team saw you interact, the teasing somehow got worse every time alexia would kiss you, or even hold your hand.
the pining drove everyone insane but the loved up versions of the two of you were insufferable. you were attached at the hip, just how you and alexia wanted.
⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆
you know the drill, just pretend it’s you xx
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alexiaputellas: mi niña (my girl)
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yourname: mami
↳ alexiaputellas: i didn’t teach her this
↳ marialeonn16: sureeeee
lucybronze: the most annoying couple ever
↳ yourname: shut up man
↳ leahwilliamsonn: there she is!!
↳ keirawalsh: she went soft but is still a shit head
↳ yourname: @/alexiaputellas bebé! defend me!
↳ alexiaputellas: you are soft
↳ yourname: the betrayal is unreal
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skipper1331 · 2 days
Text
fan girl // Alexia Putellas
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a/n: based off this request!
It was movie night at Alexia‘s, the girls seated around her living room as snacks and soft drinks were on the coffee table for everyone.
The girls had to decided to watch your new movie, all of them a big fan of your acting. Alongside you, big names like Margot Robbie and Ryan Reynolds - the movie was made to be a hit.
And Alexia had to admit that she watched every single one of your movies, most of the time more enjoying the view rather than the plot. It didn’t matter if she was the queen of football, she was madly crushing on you.
For once, Alexia wasn‘t getting Fan-girled but was Fan-girling herself. Something about you made her heart flutter, cheeks blushy and starstruck.
So, every time you appeared on screen, Alexia zoned out, comments from her friends falling to deaf ears, snacks long forgotten. She was completely in awe.
"That movie was mind blowing!" Claudia stated shocked after the movie had finished.
"That ending was very unexpected" Patri joined before the whole group talked about the movie. They discussed the ending, the plot, what they liked and didn‘t like, and the acting skills of each individual - simply everything.
-
A few weeks later, the call came that Alexia had to attend to an event, nothing knew for the Ballon D‘or winner you might think, but this event was different. Not necessarily from what would happen there but from the guests. Normally, some important people from the sports industry would be there, many media people or other important people in general - people Alexia knew or (dis)liked.
This time though, you would be there too. Alexia only knew this because she saw your instagram story - a window picture out of a plane, Barcelona marked as the destination - big headlines in the news.
In the following days, Alexia acted nervous and excited, sights you didn‘t see often. Mapi made fun of her because of that, even though she could understand Ale‘s excitement - who wouldn’t be excited to meet you?
-
"How do I look?" Alexia asked Mapi and Ingrid.
Both of them had agreed to help the Barcelona captain get ready as everything had to be perfect - perfect to meet you. She wanted to talk to you - that might be her only chance to ever talk to you, she didn‘t want to ruin that. She had to be subtle about approaching you yet attentive, respectful and kind. She couldn’t be some weird obsessed fan, she had to be herself - Alexia.
"Just be yourself" Mapi stated when Ale couldn’t stop rambling about you. What would you be wearing? How should she start a conversation? Would there even be an opportunity to talk to you? Are you nice? You probably are, no bad words about you in the world - everybody always talking highly of you.
"How am I supposed to be myself?! She‘s literally a Hollywood star!" Alexia defended herself. As if it was so easy to be herself.
"María is right, though" Ingrid added, "Ale, you‘re not just anyone, who knows maybe she‘s a football fan herself. Just start the conversation casually, be nice, ask her about her interests and everything should be fine" the Norse explained, trying to ease the Catalonians mind.
Alexia wasn‘t just anyone, she was a Barcelona player, World Cup winner, 2x Ballon D‘or winner and many other trophies winner, but most importantly, she was human. Her trophies didn‘t defy her as a person - she wasn’t arrogant or bragging about her achievements, instead she was a friendly, caring and supportive friend.
"Thank you"
-
Alexia attended the event, more nervous than usually.
She talked to the people she had to, conversations about football or other business stuff or talked to some people who she actually enjoyed talking to.
Yet all evening, she kept looking for you, not seeing you anywhere which disappointed her. She was looking forward to see you, for once not on tv.
When she went to the bar, ordering a drink, she had already lost hope, until she tensed up.
"Hola la reina" a voice beside her greeted, accent thick.
Tilting her head, she saw the gorgeous smile of you, "hi" she greeted, smiling shyly.
You had referred to her as la Reina.
"I have to admit, I’m a bit disappointed that I was only able to talk to you now" you said, taking a sip of your drink. Everything seemed so effortless when you did it.
"I‘m Y/N Y/L/N, big fan"
Shaking your hand, she replied "Alexia Putellas"
After that the conversation came floating by with an ease, all nervousness from the both of you washed away.
Alexia wasn‘t the only fan girl here, you fan-girled about her just as much, raised as an Barcelona fan since you were a little girl.
All night, you continued flirting with each other, discovering same interests and discussing topics from a-z, also not talking to anyone else but each other. It felt easy to talk to Alexia, no judgement at all as she listened to everything you had to say. She couldn’t care less if it was a random fact, even though you had seemingly very much of them (which she secretly absolutely adored) or if it was your opinion on whatever. She enjoyed hearing you talk, your opinions and points of view well explained.
At some point during the night, she asked "So, you‘re an football fan?"
"Oh yes, absolutely"
"Favorite club?"
"Real Madrid, obviously" you joked, her reaction hilarious - wide eyes, open mouth, look of disgust on her features.
"I‘m joking!" you laughed, "I’m a culer through and through"
"You almost gave me an heart attack!" she hit your arm playfully, continuing to talk about football. This time is was you who listened. The sound of Alexias voice angelic.
You loved how passionate she talked about her profession and how serious she got when she analyzed something, she was the perfect mixture of professionalism and passion - something you admired.
When the night came to an end, you walked her outside, waiting for her taxi to arrive.
"It was nice meeting you, la reina" you beamed, squeezing her hand as you had held it on the way out, so she wouldn’t get lost.
Girls thing.
"Likewise"
Looking at one another with googly eyes, no one realized that the taxi had arrived until the driver honked, bringing you back to earth.
"I would like to see you again, sometime?" you shifted nervously on your feet, eyes darting across her features. She was breathtaking.
"Maybe at the match next weekend?" Alexia didn’t expect you to say yes with your busy schedule and new upcoming projects but she tried it anyways. She really wanted to see you again.
"I will be there"
The midfielder‘s face lit up, the widest smile on her face, eyes sparkling as her heart jumped around happily.
"Good night, la reina and stay safe" you pressed your lips on the barcelona players cheek before you walked back inside with shaking hands. You had just kissed the famous Alexia Putellas’ cheek and it felt good!
Alexia on the other hand had crimson red cheeks, was breathing heavily as she touched completely dazed the spot were your lips had been seconds ago.
It seemed like you would stay for another few days in Barcelona. This wasn‘t the end. Maybe, for once, you wouldn't be playing a role in a romance film, but would be living your very own romance.
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woso-dreamzzz · 11 hours
Text
Leaving II
Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader
Summary: Your Career Grand Slam
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Alexia didn't leave Spain a lot.
Apart from matches, she doesn't travel much.
Her life is simple. Practice, home, watch football, sleep. Repeat.
It takes a lot to get Alexia to break her routine but she happily does it for you.
She's curled up on her sofa under a blanket, eyes staring up at her tv as she watches the tennis. She's never found it interesting. She'd never enjoyed watching it but she put that aside for you.
On days when Mami couldn't and Alba was busy, she was left with the job of trekking halfway across the city with you to take you to your lessons.
You were so young back then, practically tiny with your little pigtails and a racket that was almost double the size of your head.
Loathe as she is to admit it, going to Poland has done you some good. You were always amazing at tennis but you've gained confidence that Alexia isn't used to seeing from you.
You're working harder than you ever have before and it shows.
You'd won the Australian Open in January. A win at the French Open rounded off your June. Most recently, you had won Wimbledon by the skin of your teeth and now you were at the US Open.
Alexia could practically see the beads of sweat dripping down your face as you served again, your shoulders rising and falling as you skidded across the court to hit the ball back at your opponent.
She winces every time, unable to keep her thoughts away from what would happen if you planted your leg wrong or if you slipped. The thought of you tearing your acl too haunts her.
You don't deserve that.
You don't deserve any injuries like that, her little sister who used to cry when Alexia got bumps and bruises and made sure to kiss them all for magic healing.
You stumble a little, just managing to volley the ball back over the net.
Alexia can see the hit to your confidence it gave you before you snap out of it and get back into the zone.
This is a semifinal and she knows that you want to win.
Tennis is a little more brutal than football, Alexia thinks.
There's no team to back you up. There's no other people to help you when you make a bad hit.
It's just you and your opponent and the ball you're hitting between you.
It's when you win that the anger bubbles up in your sister. She hadn't been expecting it. Honestly, she had been screaming at her screen in celebration as you finally take the set and win your place in the final.
Her fist was pumped in the air and the next moment she wishes it was punched against this girl's nose.
You'd just finished shaking your opponent's hand, a woman nearly double your age who congratulates you warmly, when you take off to the stands.
Your coach is sitting in his box and he fists bumps you, something you do back only in passing before you're crushing a girl into a hug.
Alexia freezes, ice spreading across her body as she stares.
You're not the most physically affectionate person. You're quite touch averse despite growing up with Mami and Alba willing to lather you in affection at a moment's notice.
For years, Alexia has been the only one whose touch you enjoyed. You had always curled into her like a little kitten. She was the only one that got to touch you like that, even way back when you were only six and getting skinned knees from tennis practice.
Watching you and this random girl on her tv screen fills Alexia with anger. She doesn't know why. She knows that it's wrong but she can't help it.
For years, she's been your rock, the one you came to when you needed a hug. This random girl hasn't known you nearly long enough to be touching you with such familiarity.
It's all Alexia can think about even as she sits on the plane journey from Barcelona to New York. She can't help but stew.
Nothing looked like it had changed when you last called her from Poland, a week before you flew out for the US Open. You hadn't mentioned sharing hugs with anyone else. You hadn't mentioned using anyone else as your substitute Alexia.
You don't mention anyone now as you practically tackle her into a hug, rapid Catalan spilling from your lips like every time you speak to her.
Alexia catches the girl from the semi-finals hovering over your shoulder and she frowns, brows drawing together as she watches the girl awkwardly shift on the balls of her feet.
"Who is your friend?"
You say her name but, truthfully, Alexia couldn't care less. Her eyes focus on the way you reach for this girl and lace your fingers together tightly.
She's never seen you do that with someone else before.
"-My girlfriend and-"
"What?"
Suddenly, her mouth is dry and her head is filled with cotton. Alexia prays she misheard.
"My girlfriend, Ale," You repeat before continuing on with your story," And we were running right down the street because those old dudes kept yelling at us. It's not my fault that they couldn't understand my accent."
You and your girlfriend start giggling like you've said something funny and Alexia gets the feeling that she should have been listening to the start of your story rather than glaring daggers at this stupid girl.
She smiles though, just so you don't realise that she hasn't been listening before she laces your fingers with hers and pulls you into her side again.
"I'm so proud of you," She says, brushing back your hair softly and cupping your face.
You lean into her with a smile, eyes sliding closed for a moment as you suck up her affection.
"Are you feeling ready?" She asks," This is a final. Do you feel in the right mindset?" Alexia cuts her eyes towards your girlfriend. You're still so young and you seem to want this so bad. She doesn't want any distractions for you.
"Can you help me get ready?" You ask softly and Alexia grins.
"Of course." A kiss is laid on your forehead and Alexia is brought back to your first game when you were still very little.
It was just a few kids playing and was hardly a tournament of any kind but Alexia had treated it like one for you. She'd done your hair that morning and helped you get dressed. She'd laced up your shoes and given you your racket.
It was something you did at every final now - a superstition that you both adhered to strictly.
It was strange to do this with an audience.
The girl - your girlfriend, Alexia sneers in her mind - is at home with herself in your changing room. She's in control of the music, something that you didn't even let Alexia do.
She tries to shake it off, this interloper in your space as Alexia stands behind you and does your hair.
Gone are the days where you would have it up in two pigtails. Now it's replaced with a braid and tied back with a headband to keep flyaways out of your eyes.
"I love you," She says as she ties off your braid.
"I love you too, Ale."
She kneels down in front of you before helping you slip on your shoes, lacing them both up tightly.
"I love you," She says after each of them.
"I love you too, Ale."
She cups your face and looks into your eyes.
"You're so talented," She says to you," You deserve this so much. You go out there and you try your very best, okay? It's just you on the court."
"Yes, Ale."
Her lips brush against your forehead and she teasingly tugs on your braid, laughing at the way your cheeks puff up just like when she used to do it to your pigtails.
You stand and grab your bag.
Alexia expects you to walk straight out onto the court but you stop in front of your girlfriend instead.
Your foreheads are pressed together and her hands are on your waist. You're whispering to each other. It's not the familiar Catalan that Alexia is so used to hearing from you but Polish instead.
It sounds strange in her ears as you murmur to this interloper, your lips brushing hers every so often before she pats your side and sends you on your way.
Alexia tries to avoid her as much as possible, quietly distraught that she has ruined the superstition that had won you so many finals before. This is your last big hurdle of the year, Alexia doesn't want to see you lose.
Somehow, though, Alexia ends up wedged between her Mami and this interloper. It would have been easier if she was between your girlfriend and Alba because any snide comment she made wouldn't be picked up but Mami had always been able to concentrate on watching you play tennis and lecture her other two daughters at the same time.
It was a scary talent which was why Alexia kept her mouth firmly shut.
She pretended this girl didn't even exist, this girl that had clearly taken advantage of the fact that you had no Alexia affection in Poland and latched onto you like a parasite.
Alexia plays her no mind, silently cursing her in her head as she watches you step onto the court.
This woman is older than you by at least ten years, maybe more but you hold up against her well, trading hits across the net.
The first set is perhaps the longest one that Alexia has ever sat through and it's enough to have everyone sitting up straight in awe.
Even Alexia, who will admit she knows next to nothing about tennis, will admit that it's clear both you and your opponent are giving it your all but, ultimately, you come out on top in the first set.
You look exhausted though as you take your break, wiping the sweat off your face and practically caning your water bottle when Alexia knows you should sip.
Your shoulders rise and fall and Alexia knows that you're fatiguing.
She knows that it's because of this killer first set and the blazing of the sun on your back but she blames your girlfriend.
If she hadn't interrupted your usual pre-game routine than none of this would have ever happened.
This idea is only solidified in your sisters mind when you drop the second set.
You look frustrated as you hydrate again, knee bouncing.
The women only go to best of three and you and your opponent are tired. There can only be one winner and, with the way that you're fatiguing, Alexia puts all the blame on your girlfriend.
Your girlfriend who you've turned to look at with a little furrow in your brow. Your girlfriend who's smiling at you with an encouraging nod and a thumbs up that makes you produce the dopiest smile Alexia has ever seen.
You don't even look at her or Alba or Mami, just your girlfriend as you make your way back onto the court, bouncing up and down to ready yourself.
Alexia has no idea where all this energy has suddenly come from but you return the ball with vicious intensity that catches everyone off guard.
It's beautiful to watch, even more beautiful when she realises that you haven't conceded a point at all.
It's a beautiful moment as you fall onto your back when the umpire proclaims the match won.
You just lay there, arms splayed out on the court as your chest rises and falls in a pant. You've abandoned your racket next to you even as the box and crowd erupt into cheers.
You're crying, Alexia notices when you sit up and finally pull yourself to your feet, leaning over the net to shake your opponent's hand.
Tears streak down your face and you keep trying to wipe them away but more come. You make your way over to the box, reaching up to lace your fingers with your girlfriend's.
She's saying something to you, screaming really over the crowd but Alexia can't understand what she's saying.
You can though because a bubble of laughter forces its way through your tears and you nod.
Your other hand reaches up for Alexia's and she grabs it instantly, squeezing it like she did when you were little and just won your first game.
"Ale!" You say," I won!"
"Si, hermanita," She says," You did. I'm so proud of you."
"Go get your trophy," You girlfriend says with a beaming smile," We can put it next to all your others."
You look at her now and drop your sister's hand.
Alexia finds that she doesn't mind as much as your girlfriend leans down from the box and fists the front of your shirt, pulling you in for a kiss.
Though, she could have done without a front row seat to that.
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valewosomtb · 2 days
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Alexia's love language
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pers1st · 3 days
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remembered
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pairing: alexia putellas x reader
notes: this is so short ugh i hate this tbh but oh well, little angsty, mentions of injuries
You remembered every single trophy, every single victory, every loss, every draw, every team, every teammate, as you sat on the countertop of your kitchen, watching your girlfriend hum along to the Rosalía song playing over your speaker system as she stirred the pasta you had been cooking for a while now. Alexia was still wearing the sweats she’d worn on the plane back from the most recent champions league match, one that you had, once again, sat out for. With an ACL injury over two years ago and not a single minute back on the pitch due to the never ending list of injuries added to your knee since, you had sat out for a lot of matches. Every one of your teammates knew that it took a toll on you, but more than anyone, Alexia knew. She had seen you the very night of your injury, although it had happened during an international break. She had seen you cry and thrash in her arms, she had seen you when you’d gone into surgery and when you’d come out of it, she had seen every step of your recovery, had been present for every moment another doctor shattered your heart, she had picked up every broken piece of it and attempted her best to hold you together when you couldn’t. Still, you felt nervous to tell her. Still, you didn’t know how she’d react- whether she’d understand.
Alexia bled for football in a way few did - it was her whole life. 
“What’s on your mind?”, she hummed, lifting her gaze from the stove as she looked over at you fiddling with the hem of her sweatshirt that hung over your body.
You shook your head.
“Not now, Ale”, you sighed. You had a plan for this. You had laid out every step of telling her how you’d announce the end of your career soon. However, one thing you hadn’t taken into account were your emotions, and how easily your girlfriend of five years could read them.
“You’re scaring me, amor. What’s wrong?”, she asked, her tone filled with worry and her eyebrows furrowed as she let the wooden spoon simmer in the pot, instead taking a hold of your hands, immediately stopping your fidgeting.
“It has nothing to do with you, Ale. Promise”, you murmured, taking a deep breath in to avoid your tears from falling, knowing that your girlfriend would abandon the food within seconds and force the words out of your mouth before you suffocated on them. But you had prepared Alexia’s favorite pasta with so much effort, wanting to welcome her back with something to make up for your lack of presence with the team recently, that you didn’t know whether you could take it.
“I don’t know why, but that’s making me feel worse”, she chuckled, squeezing your hands as she tried to find your gaze.
“I’ll tell you when we eat, okay?”, you asked, wanting to find a common ground with her and immediately, she nodded. That seemed to calm you, as you breathed a sigh of relief. Alexia understood that it was a serious matter, yet she didn’t push you. Maybe she’d understand that your knee had simply had enough. Maybe she’d understand that you had had enough.
The cartilage in your knee had, at one point, been down to only twenty percent, and through two very painful surgeries, the doctors of your club had been sure you’d be able to be integrated into the sport again. Yet, you had sought another conversation with one of the doctors who’d stayed behind in Barcelona, in the hopes of having some clearance on whether you actually would, at one point, play football again. The man had been insistent that this was a conversation to be held while more people, most importantly, your girlfriend was present, yet you had insisted on answers and had been told the one thing no athlete ever wanted to hear. 
It’s very unlikely. If I were you, I wouldn’t push for it.
“All done, no?”, Alexia asked as she lifted one of the noodles from the pot for you to taste, gently placing it in your open mouth. You hissed at the heat in your mouth, yet you nodded. 
“Sí”, you agreed, hopping from the countertop as best as you could, to take the plates from the table you’d already sat when she’d texted you she was on her way home.
After plating up the food, you took Alexia’s phone, shushing the woman’s protests as you changed the music to Taylor Swift.
“My monologue, my music”, you smiled, filling your girlfriend’s glass with water as you sat down across from her, taking a deep breath.
“Mi amor, you’re scaring me”, Alexia huffed, but you shook your head no, poking at your food for a second.
“I’m going to retire, Ale”, you started, missing how Alexia’s mouth opened, then closed, then opened again as she searched for words. Your gaze was fixated on your plate, not knowing whether you could look at her right now, whether you could take her disappointment. You had been through so much in the past few months (really, it had been years), your girlfriend’s disappointment wasn’t something you were particularly searching for. Still, you knew you would have to accept it as she remained silent.
“I saw the doctor yesterday. He said if he was me, he wouldn’t push it.”
At that, you looked up at her, practically seeing her wires spin.
“Screw him, bebita. He’s not you, he’s not an athlete, he’s not-”
“Ale, I’m tired”, you interrupted her, a single tear rolling down your cheek. You knew she wouldn’t understand.
“I can’t do this anymore. It’s too much. Every time I go again, it ends in pain and more time out and- it’s too much. I’m done, Ale. I’m done fighting”, you said in one breath, dropping your fork onto your plate as you pushed your chair back.
“Wait, amor!”, she exclaimed, and made her way over to you within seconds. You didn’t know whether she was going to yell at you, silently disapprove or try to change your mind, but you didn’t have the energy to fight her embrace as she tightened her arms around you, letting your head fall into the crook of her neck as more tears escaped your eyes.
“It's okay, mi vida. You’re okay, I’ve got you.”
Well, you certainly hadn’t expected that- her words in your ear only encouraged you to cry harder, to finally let go of all the weight on your shoulders as you sobbed into her shoulder. You didn’t have any way to fight the tears anymore, completely letting your guard down as you cried and cried. It seemed like hours, and if you were any more stable emotionally, you might’ve cursed yourself for letting the food get calmed, but if your girlfriend minded, she didn’t say as she wordlessly led you to the couch after what seemed like hours.
“Are you sure, bebita? I just- I don’t want you to regret it”, Alexia sighed, your hands in hers as she gently stroked your thumb.
“Sí, Ale. I’m sure. It’s going to suck, but I can’t cling onto nothing anymore. I need something to do other than wait for a potential comeback”, you spoke, your voice hoarse from all of the crying.
“Have you thought about this? Like, for long enough to be sure?”
You nodded. “It’s all I’ve been thinking about since the follow up appointment of my surgery”, you huffed in an answer. 
“Amor, why didn’t you tell me?”, Alexia asked, her eyebrows furrowed as she held your hands, still intertwined with hers, closer to her heart. You could feel it beat through her hoodie.
“I didn’t think you would understand”, you mumbled, suddenly insecure about what you had been so confident in before. Alexia was one of the most empathetic, most understanding people you’d ever met- and although it had taken her a while to get the gist of your knee problems, and hours to research every surgery in detail, you doubted yourself now- if anyone understood the toll this has taken on you, it’d be the person who had been there for you through it all.
“Mi vida, I don’t know what it’s like, for you. But I’ve seen you in pain for such a long time. I just want you to be happy, and I thought that you would be happy once you were back on the pitch. That’s why I pushed you. But if that’s not what you want, I understand. After everything that you’ve been through, I will respect whatever you want to do. And if you don’t want to play anymore, we’ll figure something else out”, she spoke, her voice firm yet gentle at the same time. You couldn’t help but lean into her at her words, the weight being lifted off your chest at once.
“Thank you, Ale. Thank you so, so much”, you whispered into her shoulder, letting her hug you once more.
“Of course, bebita. I’ll always have your back. You’ve had an amazing career, and you’ll be remembered for that, forever. No matter what you do next, I know it’ll be great.”
After a short amount of contentment, Alexia spoke again.
“Although, you might give Jana and Bruna a heart attack”, she laughed.
“I know. I don’t know how the team will take it, in general”, you gave back. This was another thing that had been cursing your mind for a while now. After a great time with Lyon, you had finally come to Barcelona three years ago, wanting nothing more than to finally close the distance between you and Alexia. With that, however, you had found a new family, and people who meant more to you than you could ever explain. Despite your foreignness, and your teammates from the US constantly making fun of you whenever they could find a video of you attempting to speak Spanish, this group of women had taken you in and transformed this city into what you hoped to be your forever home. Even when for the better part of your stay in Barcelona, you had been sidelined, on the injury bench or in an operating room.
“Well, it’s not like you’ll be gone, no? You’ll stay here, with Barça.”
“Sí, I will. But I won’t be at training, won’t be at every match. It will be different”, you huffed. You had no clue what you would do after your career- an after-football never having existed in your mind, but you knew that you wanted it to have something to do with the sport.
“They'll still support you. They all love you, especially the younger ones. They look up to you so much, mi vida. It will be okay.”
You believed Alexia. Because if your girlfriend was anything other than caring, gentle, and empathetic, she was also honest. If she said it would be okay, it would be okay. Despite the fact that you had no idea what you were going to do with your life, you knew that as long as you had Alexia, it would be okay.
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lucyandalexiafan · 3 days
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I'm scared | Alexia Putellas x Reader | part 2
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summary: first time that Alexia and reader talk about sex (specifically: masturbation) after the walk.
warnings: angst, allusion to past sexual abuses. really light smut moment (r comes home early and sees Alexia have orgasm using a vibrator).
words: 3k
Part 1
When you had spoken to Alexia about your past, about those experiences, you hadn't expected her to be so understanding and engaged in helping you.
Even though you knew she was a sweet person, kind, and in some way you knew she loved you, or was starting to develop strong feelings for you, up until that day you had believed she wouldn't stay with you once she found out what had happened to you.
Alexia is beautiful, charming, loved by hundreds of thousands of people; she's the captain of Spain and Barcelona, which means she's surrounded by beautiful women, a lot of them probably much more predisposed to have sex with her and much less anxious about it. She's famous, so not only fans and other footballers would want something with her, but also other celebrities, like models or actresses or singers.
Alexia doesn't just play football, she's also a football activist, a model and she works with some brands, which means she works in contexts that allow her to meet many (beautiful) women.
All these things had made it difficult for you to think that she would stay after that walk.
She took you home once you had returned to the car because the next day she had to go to Madrid for work with Nike. Before getting out of the car, you had kissed her and, thinking it was the last time, you had tried to imprint the image of Alexia so close to your face in your memory. You thought you wouldn't see her again and that she wouldn't contact you anymore, that she would ghost you or break up with you by message.
You had spent that night sleepless, tears flowing heavily from your eyes and nausea that had forced you to sit on the bathroom floor for a few hours, the retching had painfully contracted your body several times during those hours. Even though you hated yourself every time you did it, you kept checking your phone hoping to see a notification from her, a message, a post sent on Instagram or TikTok, and the more time passed, the more you received no news from her, the more nausea and the tears increased, the more you believed you had lost her forever.
Yet, the next day, the sound of the doorbell had woken you up. You had struggled to get out of bed, the headache was killing you and your back seemed to be broken in two by the pain, the sweat covering your forehead was a symptom of yet another nightmare that had invaded your sleep. 
You looked at the video intercom and saw a delivery man. "Yes, who's there?" you had asked, your voice hoarse, ruined by crying.
"Hello, I'm from Bakery Adele, I was told I have to deliver this order to this address" the delivery guy had replied, his voice annoyingly shrill, before asking for confirmation of identity.
You had told him he could leave it at the concierge and that you would come down later, but he had persuaded you by saying there was a piping hot double espresso cappuccino and a freshly baked cream-filled brioche waiting for you.
You had put on a jacket that was hanging on the coat rack, a jacket of Alexia, and had gone down. The delivery guy handed you the breakfast, a little note attached to the package, and then said goodbye.
Bakery Adele doesn't do deliveries, never.
Once you had entered the house, you had opened the note, and tears had returned when you had read it.
"I thought of ordering your favorite breakfast from your bakery. Whenever you feel like it, if you want, write to me or call me, I'm always here. I miss you, but I'll wait for you to feel ready to talk to me. Alexia <3"
Tears, tears, and more tears.
You had bitten your lip as you grabbed your phone to video call her. You didn't care about the condition of your face or your hair at that moment, you only cared about seeing if it was true, if she was sincere. You had spent the whole night thinking she hadn't written to you because she didn't want to talk to you anymore, only to find out she was waiting for you?
"Amor," her voice, her sweet voice, invaded the deafening silence of your home.
"Ale-" you had replied trying to articulate a sentence, but inevitably ending up crying.
"What's wrong, amor? Are you okay?" she was worried, her eyebrows furrowed and her eyes squinted.
"I thought you didn't want me anymore and now the breakfast has arrived and I don't understand and-" You start speaking quickly, thoughts overlapping in your mind one after another, as you try to express yourself, to tell her how confused you feel right now.
"Take a breath, amor breath with me. Did you think I wouldn't call you? - you shook your head - Amor, I told you I'm in love with you, why would I leave you?"
You hadn't talked much, actually, because she was about to enter the store and there was a lot of confusion, but she had called you back that evening.
And the day after, and the day after that, until she had shown up at your house with takeout Chinese food.
A couple of days after she returned, you had asked if you could talk, if you could talk about what had happened. You knew that the best idea would have been to go to her place, a place from which it would have been easy to run away from her if things didn't go as you hoped, and not to your place, where Alexia could have stayed even against your will; but the emotional comfort you felt being in your own home was crucial to be able to talk to her, to face the situation.
You were at your home, on the couch: you were sitting cross-legged, your hands holding hers, and you had told her that you understood if this thing was bigger than her, if she didn't want to wait for some time to do something sexual, but you had also told her that a part of you would have wanted her to stay because you wanted to face this thing with her, that you truly wanted to face it.
Alexia, hesitant, had told you, after a while of talking, that she thought it was appropriate for you to start a therapy process, maybe also to go to therapy together, because only then could you fully face the trauma. She also made sure to tell you that if you couldn't afford it continuously over time or with the right frequency, she would help you financially because, yes, facing it, but with the right psychologist. Shyly, she had told you that she had done a couple of searches on the best psychologists in Barcelona for this type of trauma and had found one really good, and that she would also be available to do couple therapy.
You had told her you would think about it and a few days later you had contacted one of the psychologists on her list.
The initial doubts about her seriousness in being faithful to you and not seeking anyone else for sexual satisfaction surfaced when she left for a National Team camp, and they exploded when you thought she was cheating on you with Jenni. The endless social media edits you continued to see fueled the doubt that perhaps, while genuinely attempting to complete the therapeutic journey, she was seeking to fulfill her sexual desire with someone else in secret.
At the third couple's therapy session after that camp, you addressed the issue. You had resignedly told her that you wanted to know if she was with other women, that you would understand but needed to know. She was shocked. She had told you multiple times that she only wanted you, that she would wait for you, that she didn't want anyone else, that she didn't want Jenni.
You had discussed it several times in therapy over the next two weeks, and even outside of therapy, but Alexia always said the same thing: I will wait for you, I want you.
The doubts had more or less disappeared when few weeks later you caught her having an orgasm with a vibrator while she thought you were still out. You were on holiday in the Canary Islands, you had gone out to do some shopping and go to an open-air market while she was sleeping, and you had left her a message saying you wouldn't be back in two hours; too bad the open-air market was on Thursday, not Tuesday, so you had returned after a little over half an hour. 
As soon as you entered the house, you heard moans and silently approached the bedroom, only to see her in the middle of the bed, her hand between her legs and a buzzing sound in the background accompanying her moans. 
You froze in place, not knowing what to do, or what to say. 
You didn't even know she had a vibrator. You hadn't really thought about it, actually.
You hadn't even had time to think about how to react because shortly after she reached the peak of pleasure, so you quickly moved towards the door, opened and closed it more loudly, pretending you had just entered. You didn't know why you did it, maybe you thought it would be easy to pretend you hadn't seen her, but you were wrong, especially for two reasons: seeing her climax had made you incredibly horny and you couldn't remove the image of her having an orgasm from your mind, so you couldn't even look her in the eyes.
Alexia had sensed something was wrong and asked you if everything was okay at dinner, when she asked if she had done something wrong. You almost choked on the water you were drinking, your cheeks suddenly burning, as you tried to come up with some excuses, only to give in.
"Amor, I don't know how to say it - you lowered your gaze, embarrassed to admit it, afraid she would get angry - I... today I came home earlier than you think and I-I saw you-"
"Fuck - Alexia exclaimed bluntly - Amor, I'm sorry, I... it shouldn't have happened, I thought you'd be back later," her tone suddenly guilty, as if masturbating were a fault.
"Are you sorry? - you asked, looking her in the eyes, and she nodded, her face red with embarrassment - But... why?"
Her expression became confused. "I-you weren't supposed to see me, I don't want you to think-"
"Since when you do it?" you asked, then realized the stupidity of the question when the older woman tilted her head to the side; you tried to change the subject, but she asked you to talk about it, to ask her, because it was important for her that you talked about it.
"Do you want to know if I've been doing it since we started dating or when I started doing it in general?" her tone was so calm, so relaxed, that you trusted her, trusted that she really just wanted to talk about it.
That was the first time you had talked so specifically about your sexual life, at least hers. 
She had told you she lost her virginity to a girl when she was fifteen, started using sex toys at sixteen, that throughout her relationship with Jenni they had been an integral part of the relationship, but she started using them less when she broke up with her because at that point she was having a lot of casual sex.
"I had sex with other women before I met you, both occasional and steady partners, so I didn't really need to use them to have an orgasm. Then we met, the relationship became serious and we started dating, so I stopped seeing other people, and when I realized we wouldn't have sex, I started using them more often. Since you told me about your past, I've started using them frequently again."
You bit your lip as you listened to her, it was evident that she was hesitant, choosing her words carefully, but at the same time she was so sure, so calm. The calmness with which she spoke about it almost gave you comfort, almost reassured you that she wasn't lying, that what she was saying was true.
"You can ask me anything, amor, none question is stupid."
"Do you do it because we don't have sex?"
She nodded hesitantly. "How does this make you feel? - you raised your eyebrows, confused - I don't want this thing to make you feel bad."
"It makes sense that you do it - you replied, your tone devoid of negative emotions - We don't have sex and you need to... have an orgasm. Why didn't you tell me?"
She took a sip of water in an attempt to stall. "I... I thought you would take it badly, that you would feel guilty or something, and I didn't want that. I told you I want to wait for you, but I was afraid that if I told you you would think that I necessarily need someone to have sex with or for me to tell you to speed things up - she sighed - But as you saw, my sex toys give me great orgasms and I could go on just with them for years" she continued, trying to relax the tension that had been created with her answer.
You chuckled with her, even though you were sorry she did it in secret, that she did it only when you weren't there, that she was afraid you would take it badly.
It was her first orgasm you had seen, and you had never really thought about the fact that she could be satisfied in other ways than having sex with other people.
"I had never thought that you would seek orgasms in other ways than sex - you simply stated - It's a stupid thing, sorry."
"It's not, actually. We've never talked about this, about maybe masturbating or actually wanting to have sex, regardless of whether we do it or not - the reflective tone, the calm voice - For example, when I feel the need to have an orgasm, use a vibrator because the orgasms I have using it are generally more satisfying than when I just use my fingers; but when I want to have sex, as well as an orgasm, I use my fingers because they feel closer to what I could have having sex with you."
You widened your eyes at the revelation, at how calmly she said it. You knew it was normal for her to be calm, you were glad she talked about it freely, but you didn't expect her to be so sincere.
"I've said too much, sorry. Please forget it," she continued, her voice concerned, her gaze now on the plate, her hands quickly grabbing the fork and knife to put them on the plate.
"No! - you replied, scaring her - Sorry, I don't know how to talk about it, but I'd like to, I like that we talk about it."
There was a pause, Alexia was simply smiling at you, perhaps surprised that you were actually having this conversation, perhaps because she didn't know what to say.
"I masturbate thinking about you," you said, a statement.
The woman in front of you widened her eyes, a choked moan escaped her mouth, the dismay obvious.
"When I do it I-I think about the two of us having sex or-or... doing sexual things - you lowered your gaze, a sense of humiliation invading your body when she said nothing - Please don't be mad at me"
You close your eyes, scared at the idea that she might start yelling that it's disrespectful, that it's wrong for you to do it, or, worse, that she might get up to hurt you, or physically punish you for it.
"Get mad? Why should I get mad? - her voice confused - It's normal for you to masturbate, to seek orgasm."
"Even if it's not with you?" she nodded "It's just that we don't have sex but I masturbate and... doesn't it make you mad?"
Your voice sounded more frightened than you wanted, but it was true that you feared she would get angry. You didn't want to have sex with her, you were afraid to have sex with her, but you touched yourself thinking of her; how could she take it?
"I'm glad you can touch yourself, that at least that part of your sexuality hasn't been broken," she moved her hands towards yours, squeezing them between hers "There's nothing wrong, amor, I'd be a selfish insecure person to think otherwise."
You bit your lip as you looked at her, admiring her. How could she always know what to say, always say the right thing?
"So, did you like to watch me while I touch myself?" you coughed embarrassed, not knowing what to say, or how to explain it.
You had enjoyed watching her come, even though it was by chance and for a short time, even though it was an unexpected thing that shouldn't have happened. The image of her coming, of her orgasm, was imprinted in your mind.
"I- you were just so beautiful when you came. I don't know how to say it, I feel stupid, and- it was like, I don't know - you sighed frustrated - it's just that I wish it were me making you come like that, not a vibrator."
"There's time, amor," she told you.
She was right, there was time, but you wanted to be the one instead of that vibrator.
I'm sorry it took me so long to post this, a few bad things happened and I didn't have the mind to write. this is a text that I wrote about two weeks ago but I only translated it last night; I'm not 100/100 satisfied, but I wanted to introduce a moment of discussion about sex before anything sexual could happen. I dealt with the topic of insecurity and jealousy in a very light way (perhaps superficially) but it seemed like the only way to introduce the moment on holiday. the hardest part for me, and what makes me a little dissatisfied, was trying to figure out whether what I wrote about accidentally seeing Alexia have an orgasm was itself a violation of consent, or could be construed as an accident (which it actually is); I chose to interpret it as an accident that Alexia knew could happen and to avoid the parties considering it a violation of consent. If this seems wrong to you, or will trigger a lot of people, I think I'll revisit this chapter. as usual, thanks for reading what I wrote :)
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wileys-russo · 14 hours
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the most babygirl to ever babygirl out of all the babygirls that babygirl’d before her
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ellatoone7 · 2 days
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❄︎ Pretty lights ❄︎
(Alexia’s favourite girls series)
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You and Alexia go to see the lights
Christmas time was always your favourite time of year. The pretty lights and decorations and just the wholesome feeling you would get during the holidays always made you feel at peace.
You honestly didn’t think you could love it more but the universe always has ways of surprising people. The warm hand that was placed gently on your thigh was proof of that.
Michael Buble was playing quietly on the radio as you sat in the most comfortable silence, throwing your favourite person and adoring glance every now and then. The gentle hum of her low voice buzzed in your ear as she sang along with the radio.
Taken by the absolute warmth of this scene, your hand grazed tenderly over her tanned arm, slowly making its ways down to where her hand was resting. Your fingers danced with hers for a minute before she opened her palm invitingly, welcoming your hand eagerly.
Alexia lifted your joined hands up to her lips, where she placed a delicate kiss to the back of your hand. You couldn’t help but let the red flush taint your cheeks as you stare at your conjoined hands resting on the console.
It still baffles you after all these years dating that she can still make you flustered. Alexia knows it too as she sends you a cheeky, not-so-discreet smirk. You let the peaceful silence consume you as you occupy yourself by looking out the window.
Barcelona was quite the city to see any day of the year, but something about the city at christmas time had captured your heart. (Or maybe it was the woman sitting beside you.)
Snow had fallen last night leaving the beautiful city covered in a dazzling white. A few snowflakes had started to fall since you had left your home but that didn’t bother you, in fact you encouraged it having not been used to snow from where you grew up.
The heating in the car did remind you that it was below minus degrees outside and you were almost there. You searched for your gloves and hat, preparing yourself for the first bitter shock when you got out of the car.
“Did we bring hats?” Alexia turned down the radio a tad so she could focus on your question. “Sí, I put them in the back seat.” You smiled softly at her memory because you would have completely forgotten them.
The closer you got the more excited you began to get. You and Alexia have had this long lasting tradition (more like competition) to go see which neighbourhood had the best christmas lights.
Alexia was one hundred percent positive that she had found the best lights ever, bragging all day about how she was going to win. You had complained that it was an unfair advantage as she had lived here her whole life and you hadn’t.
It was currently 11 o’clock, the digital lights in Alexia’s cupra wouldn’t let you forget as she drove you further into the heart of barcelona. Alexia pulled into this cute little car park, you bit your lip at the vein protruding from her massive hand that was on the wheel as she reversed into a spot.
You threw her a confused glance as she unbuckled her seatbelt and hopped out of her beloved car. You knew better than to open the door instead letting her do it to prevent the pout that would inevitably invade her face.
Sure enough she appeared at your door with an adorable grin, obviously happy at the thought of doing anything helpful for you. Ever the gentlewoman, Alexia offered her hand which you gladly accepted as she gracefully helped you out of the car.
“Gracias.” You thanked in her mother tongue before planting a kiss to her awaiting lips. The midfielder locked her car as she led you to this cute looking cafe that you had never seen before.
“Is this new?” You asked her as she fixed the hat on her head. “Opened two months ago. Mapi found it and told me it had the ‘greatest hot chocolate she has ever had.”
You laughed contagiously at your wife’s impression of her best friend. “Ahhh, so we are going here just so you can prove Maria wrong.” You teased bumping your shoulder to hers. “You get me.” Alexia sighed wistfully as she wrapped a strong arm around your shoulder, effectively bringing you into her warmth as she kissed the crown of your head.
The cafe wasn’t overly busy but it did have a nice buzz which Alexia had obviously noticed by the way her eyebrows raised in surprise that her best friend might have given her a decent recommendation. She was still scarred from the time Mapi gave her food poisoning after reassuring her that it would be the best thing she would ever taste.
Alexia pushed the door open and it held it for you with her usual charming smirk that always made your knees go weak. “After you hermosa.” Her accent purred as she beckoned you through. Alexia held the door for a few other people with a polite smile before resting her arm back around your shoulder.
You cupped her flushed cheek, pressing a quick kiss to her nose as you lined up for your order. Since Alexia was on her holidays, she could finally treat herself which is why her eyes immediately zoned in on the selection of cookies.
You followed her longing gaze, giggling sweetly at how excited she looked at the thought of finally having some sugar. “Do we want sugar cookies or chocolate chip?” She mumbled as she tried to make up her mind, leg tapping impatiently while she waited for the guy in front of you to finish ordering.
“Bebita which one?” She inquired, eyes not leaving the array of sweets for too long. “We can get both. One of each.” Alexia’s hazel orbs lit up at the genius suggestion and she licked her lips unknowingly, yet another gesture that pulled a giggle from you.
After what felt like years for Alexia, the man in front finished up and it was her turn to order. You let Alecia order, although you were fluent in Spanish you adored hearing how she spoke it, often encouraging her to stop speaking english which she refused, how else was she meant to converse with your dad about his terrible choice in teams.
The barista sent Alexia a shy smile but Alexia’s focus was solely on the cookies that were sitting on the counter. Although she must not have missed it as she placed her left hand right in the poor girl's eyeline. You couldn’t help but smile in amusement as her wedding ring glistened under the bright lights.
Alexia would do just about anything to show you off claiming that she felt selfish keeping you all to herself. The barista's smile dropped a fraction when she caught sight of the piece of jewellery but she managed to throw you a tight smile anyway.
After Alexia had shoved your hand with your card in it away and tapped her card, she took your hand and led you to where the other people were waiting. Alexia pulled one of the stools out from a table and offered it to you. After you politely declined she hopped up instead, needy hands immediately finding your waist.
You now stood in between her long legs, hands coming up to fiddle with the collar of her Barcelona jacket. Her ring clad thumb tapped against your hips as she skated for your order. You didn’t fail to notice how she didn’t once take her caramel eyes off of you, orbs flitting over every feature of your face that she had already memorised more than a million times.
“Pretty.” Your wife whispered, “So pretty.” Her cheeky grin was back as she watched the blush rise on your cheeks. You shook your head in amusement before bringing your hands to interlock behind her neck. You rewarded her with a feathery kiss, twirling her baby hairs in between your fingers as she sighed happily against your lips.
A large hand slid into the back pocket of your jeans as Alexia pulled you closer. Her other hand squeezed your waist encouragingly as she nipped at your bottom lip hoping to be let in.
You pulled back a fraction just to catch your breath but your wife didn’t like that as her hand slid up to cup your jaw, tenderly angling it back towards her awaiting mouth.
“Alexia!”
It was as if you weren’t even there. The minute the barista called her name your wife had nearly thrown you off of her as she raced up to her order. You grumbled as you followed her, annoyed at the interruption.
With a soft ‘gracias’ and nothing else, she was out the door, unwrapping her cookie and scoffing it. You decided to see if she would notice that you weren’t even with her by staying inside the cafe. It took Alexia an embarrassing amount of time to realise that you were in fact not attached to her.
You had to suppress your giggle as your wife frantically began to look around for you, mouth still full. Alexia, much to her relief, finally spotted you, shoulders sagging as she made her way back to you. You met her half way, feeling slightly guilty but much too amused to not laugh.
“Where did you go?” Alexia asked around her mouthful as her hand rested on your lower back. “You left me there.” You pouted playfully. Alexias eyes widened at your pout, quickly kissing it in hopes that it would disappear, “Lo siento cariño. I was just excited to eat my cookie.” You couldn’t hold back your laugh as you thumbed a few crumbs off of her chin, “I’m playing with you baby.”
Alexia huffed amusedly, “That’s your cookie gone.” You slapped her shoulder softly before leaning in to place a languid kiss to her lips. A soft smile dances across her face as she pecks your cheek a few times.
Without a word Alexia handed you your hot drink along with a piece of the half gone chocolate chip cookie. “Come on bebita, we have lights to see.” Your wife checked your hip before racing off towards her car.
You chuckled as she ushered you into her cupra, still holding the door. As she drove you closer to your destination, you took it as your duty to break off a piece of cookie and feed it to your wife.
Alexia laughed loudly as you waved it in front of her face. She took the piece gratefully and playfully bit at your hand which made you giggle. “Mi amor stop eating it all.”
You scoffed loudly before eating even more, “I’ve had one piece Alé.” Alexia whined as you put another piece of ‘her’ cookie. “You are buying a new jar of nutella when we get home.” Alexia grumbled as you licked at your thumb. “I already have two more jars at home babe.” You break the news to her knowing that if she knew that she would have eaten both.
“We agreed! We agreed that you wouldn’t have it in the house during the season.” Alexia argued, absolutely gobsmacked at the thought of you eating nutella in her house without her.
“Just because you have to suffer doesn’t mean I have to.” You sing out as you finish your hot chocolate with an appreciative hum. “I see how it is.” You knew your wife wasn’t mad with how her eyes sparkled when she looked over at you.
Once the car was safely stopped at a red light, Alexia couldn’t stop herself but to lean over and cup you face, pulling you into a searing kiss. “Te amo mucho mi amor.”
You smiled, softly stroking her strong jaw, forehead to forehead. “Even when I eat your cookie.” Alexia hummed affectionalty, placing another tender kiss to your soft lips, “Sí, even when you eat my cookie.”
The rest of the drive was filled with laughter as Alexia told you about her catching Jana and her girlfriend making out in the storage closet just after a tough training session.
“Okay, you ready?” Alexia asked as she slowed down, nearing the neighbourhood. You nodded, giving her a soft smile when she tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.
You gasped when you first saw the lights. Alexia knew she won, you knew she won, but god was it deserved. The whole neighbourhood was lit up in an array of colourful lights, basking you and Alexia in the prettiest glow.
“Alé, this is so beautiful.” You exhaled as your eyes were glued to a particularly pretty set of lights. “Not as beautiful as you bebita.” You hadn’t even realised Alexia had stopped the car until soft kisses were being pressed against your neck.
Your hand reached back slightly to cup the back of her neck as she left a teasing bite, soothing it with a lick. Her kisses trailed up to your cheek causing you to turn your head but instead of letting her kiss you, you pinched her chin between your fingers.
“I love you more than anything in this world Alexia Putellas.” Alexia’s breath was knocked from her lungs at the sincerity of your voice, “Por favor, let me kiss you.”
And you did.
Over and over again.
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helen-with-an-a · 22 hours
Text
I am an Adult pt 3
Hi. So I wasn't planning to do a part 3 of the series but I got a request and it was really cute/funny so I thought why not ahaha.
Barca Femeni x Reader ; Lena Oberdorf x Reader
Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3
Word Count: 3.3k
Description: R gets a girlfriend
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It took a lot of work to find the right balance. The give and take, knowing where to push and where to pull. That fine line between knowing when to go to the team for help and doing it yourself.
After the events of last Spring, you had been better at relying on the girls for essential things, and they had been better at asking you about them without nagging. You sent a picture of critical legal dates to Alexia, who would set a reminder to ask you about them a week or so before the actual deadline. She felt like she was checking up on you and helping you without you feeling smothered. It was fantastic.
And then you got a girlfriend.
Initially, Your crush was slight, something you could repress and squash down. But then you played her in the Champions League group stages. Wolfsburg and Barcelona were drawn in the same group by some bizarre coincidence or the universe interfering in your love life.
Lena was so sweet and kind; it was crazy. You first interacted when you had to do some media together. UEFA media decided to do ‘head-to-head’ videos where some players from each team had to do videos, interviews, and challenges together. And with another stroke of luck – or divine intervention once again – you and Lena were paired together. You were caught off guard by how gentle she was. On the pitch, she was a force to be reckoned with solid tackles and her fearlessness of a yellow card. That was the only impression you had of her. Of course, you had stalked her social media for months, so you knew she seemed like a fantastic friend. But off the pitch, it was like a switch had flipped. She was so soft, it was unreal – always asking if you were ok with the questions she was asking and checking in with you after challenges. It was making your head spin in the most fantastic way.
“What do I do?” You asked Ona over coffee. She was the one person you trusted with this secret.
“Well, well, well. Where has the confident, cocky, ‘I’m so good with girls’ Y/N gone?” She joked. You had never experienced these feelings before, and you were panicking slightly.
“Ugh, never mind. If you’re just going to make fun of me-” you shook your head, starting to gather your things.
“No, wait, hey, c’mon. Do you seriously like her?” Ona grabbed your wrist, stopping you from leaving.
“I … I don’t know. I think so, but I don’t do relationships. I never have. It’s just been one-night stands and friends-with-benefit type things. Casual sex. Never anything more. I don’t do more.”
“Well, neither do I,” Ona cut in. You raised an eyebrow at her.
“Want me to tell that to Lucy?” You said sarcastically, chuckling at her deep blush. “Ona, c’mon, I’m serious. I really like her,” you all but begged.
“Ok, ok. No hay necesidad de preocuparse. If you really like her, just ask her out for coffee, or dinner, or to the movies, or something. Just be your normal self. You know you have game. I’ve seen the number of girls you’ve brought back after nights out. So just be your charming self, flirt a little, and ask her on a date.” You nodded at her words. Flirting, you could do. Charming, you could do. Asking her out on a date … you hoped you could do.
You asked her out after the first leg. It was in Barcelona, so you messaged her to see if she wanted to see the sights. You knew she wasn’t going home until 2 days after the match, so on her off-day. You knew it was slightly unconventional to ask someone out via text, but you think you might never do it if you asked in person.
Y/N💙❤️: Do u want to go to see some stuff in Barcelona with me on ur day off?? x
Lena💚: By rselves? Like a date???
Y/N💙❤️: Yes x
Y/N💙❤️: Would u like to go on a date with me on ur day off??
Lena💚: Yes
Lena💚: I’ll send you the hotel details. I could meet u at like 10? 11?
Y/N💙❤️:  I’ll pick u up at 10 outside the hotel – wear comfy shoes!!! <3
Lena💚: Can’t wait 😁
The day was beautiful; you took her to a little bakery for breakfast – laughing a few hours away over good coffee and excellent food. You then spent the morning doing the touristy things before having lunch at a tapas place, again not noticing the time passing as you giggled and sent longing stares at each other. The afternoon was filled with more happiness as you showed her the quieter spots and your favourite places to relax. Dinner was a classic paella, finally drawing up the courage to hold her hand on your way back to drop her off.
You were just around the corner from her hotel when you pulled her to stop.
“Um … I had a perfect day today.” You said as you shuffled closer,
“Me too,” she replied, softly pushing some hair away from your face. You licked your lips, staring at hers. She slowly leant in, her eyes flicking between your lips and eyes. You leant in, too; you were so close to kissing her – one slight adjustment at you would be.
A car horn sounded right next to you, making you both spring apart. Fuck!
“I … um … I better get going,” Lena said, gesturing towards the hotel. You could tell she was a little disappointed
“Yeh, no, I get it. Just … text me, yeh? Maybe you could show me around Wolfsburg when we travel to you guys?” you said nervously, not meeting her warm brown eyes.
“Hey,” she called softly, using her free hand to grasp your chin and make you look into her eyes. “I will absolutely be showing you around my home. We will definitely be doing this again,” she said with certainty. You felt your heart jump at the idea of a second date with Lena. She squeezed your hand before she left, looking back with a soft smile as she went.
Y/N💙❤️: SPOTIFY LINK – One Direction, ‘I Should Have Kissed You’:  https://www.spotify......
Lena💚: SPOTIFY LINK – Odeal, ‘Next Time’: https://www.spotify.......
After the second leg, Lena took you to a Christmas Market, saying that even though it was only November, you had to experience one. It was lovely. You laughed, ate too much food, and drank too much hot chocolate and mulled wine. As she took you back to your hotel, you came to a stop, much like you had in Barcelona.
“Can I actually kiss you this time?” You asked her.
“Bitte Küsse mich.” You didn’t speak German, but she clarified her intentions as she put a hand on your hip, shuffling closer until your breaths mingled. Her lips were soft and rough and warm and cold all at once. It was perfect. The world stopped spinning momentarily as you slowly let your tongue explore.
“Mein Gott” she said as you parted.
“Guess I’m going to need German lessons.” You laughed, pressing your lips back on hers.
“Don’t worry, I know a willing teacher,” she said as you separated again.
Your relationship was semi-secret; text exchanges left you giddy, hushed phone calls left you too-smiley, and facetimes were taken as you hurried from the rooms. Everyone could tell something was different, and most people could guess that it was probably down to a person; they just couldn’t figure out who.
“Alright, out with it. Who’s got you so smiley?” Patri asked as she sat on your sofa. You were having a younger girls' night—like you do most evenings. Patri, Pina, Esmee, Ona, Jana, Martina, Vicky, Bruna, Cata … it was a bit of a squeeze in your one-bedroom flat, but you made it work.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said as you smiled into your glass.
“Oh, please. You’ve been smiling away, laughing, and being disgustingly cute. Who is it?” Jana swatted your thigh at your non-answer.
“I don’t kiss and tell,” you stuck your tongue out at her.
“Don’t make us do detective work!” Martina threatened, pulling up her phone and going onto your social media.
“It’s recent, so check who she’s recently started following,” Vicky suggested. You were so grateful that you had been following Lena for years since you had played against her at club and national levels.
“It happened after the group stages,” Ona chimed in. You threw her an offended glare. You knew she wouldn’t actively spill your secret, but you had hoped she wouldn’t join in on the hunt for the identity of your girlfriend.
“You know something, Ona!” Pina accused, a finger coming to point at her. “You know who it is, don’t you?” They soon switched from interrogating you to Ona. Logically, it was the smartest move; Ona could crack very easily. It’s how you found out about Lucy – you had just narrowed your eyes at her for slightly too long, and she broke, spilling everything to you when she stayed the night a few months ago. You watched, somewhat amused, as Ona squirmed, avoiding eye contact, ducking her head, biting her lip. She was close to spilling everything. You knew she was terrified of telling secrets that weren’t hers, but she couldn’t help it.
“Alright, guys. Enough. Stop interrogating her.” You broke up the onslaught of questions, moving from your sofa seat to the chair she was curling up in. You could tell she was close to tears, and you didn’t want to do that to her – you knew she already felt guilty enough. You shuffled her around a bit before pulling her onto your lap.
“Right, you get 5 hints. If you can’t guess it from them, then I can’t help you. And no more asking Ona!” You glared at them all, ensuring they understood how serious you were. “Right, she’s German. She plays in Germany. She’s a midfielder. We’re similar ages. She’s made her senior international debut in 2019.” You watched as the group dissolved into loud discussion.
“Lo siento mucho. No querías que nadie lo supiera y ahora...” Ona hurried out, close to tears again.
“Hey, no, no, no. It’s ok, Oni,” you reassured her as you kissed her forehead. “No es tu culpa. I promise you. I do not blame you.” She nodded and buried her head back against your collarbone, watching the carnage in front of you. You quietly laughed to each other at the scene – Wikipedia was pulled up on everyone’s phones, the German national team website as well as they speculated on who you were seeing. You slowly pulled your phone out, quickly texting Lena.
Y/N💙❤️: Like ½ my team are tryna guess my girlfriend rn x
Y/N💙❤️: Do u mind if I say yes if they guess it right? x
Lena💚: ahahahahaha
Lena💚: No, I don’t mind. R u gonna tell them who I am if they get it wrong tho?
Y/N💙❤️: Whichever u want x
Y/N💙❤️: I don’t mind telling them x
Y/N💙❤️: Would make it easier when I disappear to Germany for a few days and u suddenly turn up in my Barca jersey
Y/N💙❤️: I want to tell them about u x
Lena💚: Tell em
Lena💚: Can I tell my team?
Y/N💙❤️: Omg yesssss xxxxxxxxxxxx
Lena💚: also – I will never wear a barca jersey!!
Lena💚: Even if it does have ur name on the back 🤢
Y/N💙❤️: ugh RUDE.
Y/N💙❤️: But ud still be my WAG tho right? x
Lena💚: I’ll always be ur wag hehe
Y/N💙❤️: so kind of u x
Y/N💙❤️: I’ll always be ur wag too btw x
“Alright, alright. We have 2 possible answers.” Bruna turned around with a notebook in her hand. Where did they get that from? “Our first guess, we think, is less likely. Klara Bühl. She’s German, plays for Bayern, is a midfielder, and debuted in 2019. You’re similar in age. But we haven’t played Bayern in a while. So, how would you have met? So, we don’t think it’s her.” She paused, staring at your carefully crafted neutral expression. You met Klara once; she was lovely. She handed the notebook over to Cata. “Our final guess is one we think is pretty true,” Cata explained, adjusting herself to sit cross-legged before you. “We played Wolfsburg at the Champions League group stages, and you disappeared for the whole day the day after and came back all smiley. So, we have reason to believe it’s a Wolfsburg player.” You didn’t realise how seriously they were taking this. “But … most of the Wolfsburg team are German, but not all of them are German midfielders that debuted for the national team in 2019.” She paused dramatically. You knew she had figured it out. “That’s why our final guess is …” another final pause.
“Oberdorf,” Patri shouted out, clearly over Cata’s dramatics. “You’re dating Oberdorf.”
“Oi. Aquesta havia de ser la meva revelació” Cata lunged at Patri, loud shouts of Catalan descending on the house.
“D'acord, d'acord,” you shouted over the noise as you saw a wine bottle wobble precariously as someone knocked into the table. “Sí, Lena is my girlfriend.” You admitted. If you thought the noise was loud before, you were deafened by the cacophony that descended on you. You buried your head in Ona’s hair, laughing as your friends melted into chaos.
You knew that once the younger ones found out who your girlfriend was, it was only a matter of time before the older ones did. You hadn’t expected it to be the next day, however. You were in the changing rooms, chatting to Patri and Pina as you prepared for the session ahead of you. The door banged open, and you were met with an outraged Lucy. As she stalked towards you, you glanced at a very guilty-looking Ona.
“She looked at me.” Ona defended herself.
“Grow a backbone, Oni.” You shouted as Lucy dragged you from the room, remembering to add a nickname in so she knew you weren’t that mad at her.
You were dragged to an empty conference room. Alexia, Paños, Marta, Mariona, Caro, and Irene were already sitting on one side of the table. Lucy pushed you into the single seat opposite them and took her place next to Irene. You sat in silence for a full 3 minutes before anyone spoke.
“Is there something you want to tell us, cariño?” Alexia asked smoothly, folding her hands in front of her like she was conducting a business meeting.
“Ona needs to learn how to toughen up.” You weren’t too angry with Ona, but it slightly annoyed you that she had cracked so easily. You wanted to tell the older girls yourself to avoid this situation.
“Leave her out of it.” Lucy jumped in. You clicked your teeth at her, flicking your hand in her direction, dismissing her protest.
“You have a girlfriend,” Irene stated, bringing the conversation back on track.
“Ja, das tue ich,” you said, chuckling at their reaction to your German. They didn’t fully understand you but knew ‘yes’ in most languages. You could see Caro laughing slightly – she had played for Wolfsburg; she knew you were using your newfound language to irritate them.
“And you didn’t tell us?” Marta asked
“Ja, das ist richtig,” you smiled.
“Cut the crap, pequeña.” Paños hit the table, making you jump slightly.
“Bien. Si tanto quieres saber,” you snapped. “Yes, I have a girlfriend. I’m sure you already know who, but it’s Lena. I asked her out after our home Wolfsburg game. She asked me out after her home leg. We’ve been dating for a couple of months now. I really like her. Anything else you want to know?” You asked Alexia directly. You could see the internal battle – the desire to know everything about your new relationship with her promise to treat you more grown up.
“Everyone, out,” Alexia instructed after a minute, using her captain’s voice to show she was serious. “Cariño, please stay?” She asked. You nodded as the others left. Caro seemed to find this whole thing funny, but everyone else was grumbling and muttering about how they found it rude that you didn’t tell them and that you were too young for a girlfriend. “I thought we promised to tell each other things like adults?” She asked you.
“I know. The others only found out yesterday if it makes you feel any better. Ona’s known for a while, but only because I asked her for help.” You sat back in your chair, careful to leave your posture open.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” She seemed a little upset by your actions.
“I didn’t want this to happen. We’ve finally found a balance. And I knew that this would disrupt that balance. And it’s so new; I didn’t want to tell you guys until I knew what we were, and it’s only really been a few months. She asked me to be her girlfriend at New Year’s, so …” you trailed off, hoping that she understood where you were coming from.”
“Entenc. But cariño, why didn’t you tell me?” She asked again.
“I … I don’t know.” You did know. You knew exactly why you didn’t tell her. And she knew it, too. “Ok … well … I didn’t … I didn’t want you to treat me like a child again. Relationships are new to me. I can do the … physical …” you both cringed slightly, not entirely comfortable with those topics just yet, “side of relationships fine. But emotions. They’re new to me. And I wanted to figure it out for myself first. I went to Ona ‘cos she’s my best friend. One that needs to learn how to resist interrogation better, but she’s still my best friend.”
“Don't be too hard on her, pequeña. She meant well. And I get why you didn’t come to me first. But can I ask a few questions?” She watched as you left your seat, coming around to her side of the table, and sitting on her lap.
You sighed, “ask away.” She laughed as she squeezed your waist.
“Does she treat you well?”
“Sí,” you answered honestly.
“Do you treat her well?”
“I think so. I hope so.” You smiled at her concern for Lena
“Can we meet her?”
“As long as you guys don’t give her the talk, then yes.” She leant back to look at your face.
“Can I give her the talk?” You sighed.
“Sí,” you relented, not missing the flicker of excitement that passed over her face.
“When is she coming to Barcelona?”
“Our way game Èl Clasíco matches with a free weekend for her. She’s meeting me in Madrid.” You laughed as she pushed you off her lap, standing up and rushing to the door. “Where are you going?”
“To prepare my speech. Alba never let me do a charla de hermana mayor to her partners, so this might be my only chance.” You laughed at her enthusiasm. She indeed was like your big sister – annoying most of the time, infuriating some of the time, but just a big, goofy kid at heart looking out for everyone around her.
Y/N💙❤️: U might wanna prepare urself now x
Lena💚: WHY???
Lena💚: WHAT DID U DO????
Y/N💙❤️: Alexia knows
Y/N💙❤️: She’s very excited to meet my girlfriend x
Y/N💙❤️: She’s planning a speech x
Lena💚: I am dead
Lena💚: I am going to die
Lena💚: Will u still love me if I’m dead????
Y/N💙❤️: She wont kill u
Y/N💙❤️: I wont let her xxx
Y/N💙❤️: Yes, I will still love u if ur dead xx
I hope you liked it <3<3<3
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pitchsidestories · 2 days
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eras of us (1) II Ona Batlle x Reader
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masterlist I word count: 2981
a/n: inspired by this request, be warned it's a bit angsty but we promise it will have an happy ending in part 2. Your feedback is always appreciated.
2024
Barcelonas training had just ended and you were still breathing hard. Grabbing your water bottle, you already dreamed about taking a nice long shower and ordering some food. But you had not expected Alexia to appear in front of you, right before you wanted to leave the pitch.
Her arms were crossed in front of her chest: “Y/n, can we talk for a second?“
The seriousness in her face made you stall for a second, replaying every scene from training and searching for a mistake you made: “Yes, sure…“
She motioned for you to follow her away from the rest of the squad: “Come with me.“
“Uhm okay?“, you replied slowly, your heart beating almost as fast as it did when you were chasing after the ball.
You finally stopped on the opposite end of the field. Alexia turned towards you: “You and Ona…“
“Yeah? Did we annoy you during training?“, you grinned, all the tension immediately gone when you heard your best friends name.
The corners of Alexias mouth quirked up: “Yeah, by acting like you don’t fancy each other.“
“Excuse me, what?! We don’t fancy each other. We’ve been close friends forever.“, you explained. The smile had died on your face and was now replaced by furrowed eyebrows.
The team captain shrugged unimpressed: “Sure, keep telling yourself that.“
You shook your head as you continued: “That’s why I’d never go for her, she’s one of my best friends.“
You immediately knew something was wrong when Alexia did no reply. When you turned around, you only saw Ona running away towards the dressing room. Your warm up shirt was laying on the grass.
Your brain needed the moment but eventually made the connection. She obviously wanted to bring you the shirt and must have heard you. You cursed under your breath: “Shit.“
“I told you.“, Alexia said plainly.
Your thoughts were racing: “What?“
She shook her head with a sigh and pointed in the direction of where Ona had disappeared: “Just go after her!“
2011
They say beginnings are always the hardest. And at twelve years old, you had to agree.
Setting your first steps into Barcelonas youth academy La Masia had felt like the end of everything you knew so far. You were riddled with anxiety and awe, walking through the halls towards your new room. You could barely grasp that you were finally here but at the same time you started to ask yourself if you even wanted to be here at all.
You stopped in front of an inconspicuous looking door. Only the number on the front told you that this was the room that you would call your home from now on. You took a deep breath and knocked.
A short girl with reddish brown hair opened the door with a wide grin. Her face was covered in freckles. “Y/n, right? Hi, I’m Ona. We’ll be roommates.“
There was a warmth radiating off of her that immediately made you feel a lot calmer. With your suitcase still in hand, you smiled: “Hello, nice to meet you, Ona.“
“If you want, you can leave your stuff here and I’ll show you everything.”
You were eager to get to know the place which would be your home for the next years. Gratefully you took Ona’s offer:” Yes, let’s go.”
It turned out that your roommate was the perfect guide, she seemed to know where everything was and had a charming way to introduce you to this new place and people.
Still the vastness of the grounds was intimidating to you as the girl who grew up far away from the Catalonian capital in a village with a small population:” Wow, this is huge.”
“It’s quite cool, right?”, Ona beamed at you.
You nodded in agreement while taking a closer look at the pictures on the wall from footballers like Messi, Iniesta and Xavi who have started here where you were now:” It’s especially when one thinks about the people who came here before us.”
Before the visual history could put too much weight on your shoulders the other girl quickly changed the topic:”Do you have your schedule, already?”
“Yes, I do. Do we have things together?”, you curiously asked her before showing her the printed schedule you got at your arrival.
Happily, Ona observed: “Looks like we have a lot of classes together. And training of course.”
“Of course, what’s your position?”
“I play defense. Mostly left back.”, your roommate replied with a grin. You could immediately tell that she enjoyed what she was playing which was much to your surprise most players in your previous team didn’t like to be a defender or a goalkeeper.
“That’s cool. I usually play right back.”, you told her in an excited tone.
The brunette beamed at you:” Oh, that’s perfect.”
“Do you think they thought about that when they assigned us to be roommates?”, you thought out loud.
The fellow defender answered thoughtfully:” Possibly. They always try to put people together that might be compatible.”
“Can’t wait for the first training.”, you confessed.
“You’ll like it. The girls are really nice.”, Ona promised you with a warm smile on your lips.
Thinking about your own football history you admitted to her:” It’s my first time playing with an only girls’ team.”
“You played with boys before?”, she lifted an eyebrow in surprise.
“Yes, you didn’t think that, huh?”, you gave her a challenging look, knowing full well how you must look in your eyes with your long ponytail which was held together by a bow.
Quickly Ona waved it off:” I was just surprised.”
“Because I look too girly to kick a ball around with boys?”, you teased her.
“I didn’t say anything about that.”, she protested laughing.
“Yes, okay, you didn’t.” When you discovered a ball close to your feet, you picked it up glancing expectantly at your roommate:” Do you want to play for a bit now instead of just talking about football?”
Your first days in La Masia were filled with football and classes. All these new impressions and the tight schedule left you with little time to catch your breath. Only at night, your thoughts started racing and the heavy feeling in your chest became unbearable.
Lying awake in the dark of your room, you could not stop the tears from falling. You quietly sobbed into your pillow when you felt a weight pushing down the mattress next to you. A small hand started stroking your hair while you held your breath.
“Hey… are you okay? What’s wrong?“, Onas voice whispered close to your ear.
You quickly wiped away the tears: “Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you up…“
“It’s okay. I wasn’t asleep yet anyway.“, she replied softly.
“I just miss home, my family, friends and team… They live so far from here.“, you tried to explain but the tears welled up in your eyes again.
Ona laid down next to you, pulling you close to her for a short hug: “I understand that, trust me. The first few weeks here are always hard.“
“But it gets better?“, you asked with slight hopefulness.
“It will. I promise.“, Ona nodded.
For a moment, you both wordlessly stared into the darkness, existing in each others space.
“The coaches are really tough but you were right, the girls are really nice.“, you said into the silence.
You could hear the soft smile in Onas voice when she replied: “They are. Trust me, the coaches only want the best for you. You will get used to everything.“
“What if I’m not good enough?“ When your question was met with a chuckle, you gently hit Ona on her upper arm: “Hey, don’t laugh about it.“
“I saw you play. You belong here.“, your roommate grinned.
The heavy feeling started to lift with Ona by your side. You finally had to smile now too: “If you say so.“
Ona shrugged: “Fine, don’t believe me. But I know it’s true.“
“Thank you for listening to me.“
“Do you think you can sleep now?“, Ona yawned.
“Yes, good night, Ona.“, you mumbled before the increasing drowsiness let you fall asleep with your head on Onas shoulder.
2015
You and Ona trusted each other blindly. You had become best friends over the years which made for an incredible partnership on the pitch. With one of you on each side of the defense line, you were stable parts of Barcelonas youth team. You had a league game against Levante and it was half time when Aitana came to you: “I’m jealous of Ona and you.“
“You’re jealous, Tana? You don’t need to be, you’re one of our best.“, you laughed and pulled the shorter girl into a hug.
The midfielder shook her head: “But you have such an understanding of each other. You always know who’s going to attack and who needs to hang back without talking. I love that.“
“I wish I was a part of that.”, Laia sighed.
Smiling Aitana stated:” You kind of are, Laia.”
“Laia, you’re equally as important in our line of defense.”, you reassured her.
“Yes, we need you.”,  Ona padded your teammates thigh who’s face lit up after all those kind words from her team.
Closing your eyes you told Laia:” I feel like you’ll score a header in the second half, Laia.”
“We’ll see about that.”, your teammate laughed warmly.
“Trust me.”, you grinned at her.
“I do.”
Only five minutes into the second half and Aitana scored a screamer with your assist. “Oh my god, that was amazing!”, Ona jumped into your open arms, you almost fell over but could stay up with the two of you.
Her compliment made your cheeks turn red almost immediately:” Nah, Aitana’s goal was prettier.”
“Stop it and take the compliment.”, the midfielder rolled her eyes at you.
“She’s been bad at it since day one.”, your best friend blurted out with a teasing smile on her lips, clearly referring to one of your first nights at La Masia when you have doubted yourself so much it brought you to tears.
“Shut it.”, you tried to stop her from adding anything more.
But she nonchalantly responded: “It’s true.”
“Let’s keep our head in the game, chicas.”, you reminded them.
“Ugh fine.”, Ona groaned.
At the end your prediction turned out to be true, only one minute before the game was over Laia scored the winning goal.
Excited Laia gesticulated with her hands:” Have you seen my header? Thanks, Oni!”
“Nice one.”, the fellow defender remarked happily.
Meanwhile you hugged Laia from the side:” I told you so.”
At the final whistle you could see Ona walking away from your team to greet her brother who was watching the match in the stands. Grinning Joan embraced her in a hug before he said to her: “Ona, you and your roommate have a great chemistry on the pitch.”
“Thanks?”, she replied a bit confused by the tone in his voice.
“Is there more to it?”, her sibling wiggled his brows.
With an amused smile on her lips Aitana joined their conversation:” Honestly, we’ve been asking them that for forever.”
“No, that’s ridiculous.”, Ona protested giggling.
You came to her rescue, adding:” Right, we’re just friends nothing more and nothing less.”
“That would be weird.”, she thankfully pressed your hand.
“Yeah, I agree.”
“Okay, I got it.”, Joan answered.
“I don’t.” Aitana confessed.
“Aitana, stop!”, you both demanded.
The midfielder smiled innocently:” What?”  
In hindsight Ona and you might could have notice that there was more to your connection, but you didn’t like when people were right because you rather proved to them that they were wrong even when those could read you better than yourself at the time.
2018
You both were 18, in a few weeks’ time you both would be 19 but it was the first time you were about to party with the adult team of Barcelona.
A lot of things had changed since your academy years, for example Ona was playing for Levante now while Aitana and you were a few of the lucky ones who were allowed to stay in the Barcelona senior squad as the club was trying to get more experienced players and let the younger ones go. But you still were best friends, and you were happy that she was in town to celebrate.
The two of you sat in the Barcelona apartment that you had recently moved in and got ready for the party.
“Can you believe it? We get to play with the adult teams now and we’re going to party with them for the first time.“, you asked while applying mascara to your eyelashes.
Ona was busy changing into a new shirt for the third time: “No. But I’m so ready for it.“
“Me too.“
Your best friend examined her outfit in the mirror and with a satisfied nod turned to you: “Are you done?“
You put on another layer of lipgloss: “Yes, I’m ready.“
“Let’s leave.“, Ona grinned while passing you your purse.
Of course, you arrived fashionably late at the party where the older players were already celebrating.
With a drink in hand, Jenni elbowed Alexia in the side: “The children arrived!“
Unimpressed, you rolled your eyes: “Not funny, Jenni.“
“Oh come on, take a joke.“, the dark-haired striker grinned.
“Maybe after a drink.“, you replied casually which caused Alexia and Jenni burst out laughing.
“Someone’s thirsty.“, Alexia teased.
“No, worries. We got you.“, Jenni smiled before leaning over the bar to order some drinks. She handed you and Ona a glass each.
You quickly took a sip: “Thanks, Jenni.“
“You’re welcome.“
Alexia held out her glass: “Cheers, you two.“
“Cheers.“, you said as you all clinked your glasses together.
You and Ona spend most part of the night talking to the other players who always made sure, you had a drink in hand. While the clock ticked closer to midnight, you started feeling the alcohol.
“Come on, Oni. Let’s dance.“, you begged and pulled on your best friends arm.
Ona who seemed a little less drunk, grimaced: “Dancing? In front of everyone?“ You took her glass and set it down on a table before pulling her towards the dance floor. Gently, you took her hands in yours: “Close your eyes, pretend it’s our room.“
“Fine.“, she sighed and followed your instruction.
You happily watched as she finally started moving to the rhythm of the music. “Better? Or still terrible?“, you laughed.
For a moment, Ona said nothing and as you followed her gaze, you realized why. A man, definitely older than you, had started dancing close behind you and kept thrusting his hips in your direction. You immediately felt panic rise in your stomach.
“It just gotten horrible.“, Ona belatedly answered your question but you could barely hear her over the rush of blood in your ears.
“Want to dance with me?“, he asked. His smile was betraying him, telling you that he did not only have dancing in mind.
You forced yourself to a stiff smile: “No, thanks.“
“What’s the problem? It’s just a dance. Or do you have a boyfriend? He doesn’t have to know.“
Surprised by his persistence and audacity, you found yourself unable to answer.
Luckily Ona stepped in and gave him a cold look: “Actually, she has a girlfriend?“
“You?“, he asked.
“Yes, Ona is my girlfriend.”, you quickly lied. To make sure the man was finally leaving you alone your best friend kissed you. The words didn’t work but that gesture thankfully did.
After the kiss you went back to the table the Barcelona girls were sitting around.
“Oh my god, girls, what if something happened and he didn’t just leave?!”, Alexia who has seen everything sounded deeply worried.
“Alexia, relax that was hot.”, Jenni grinned.
The midfielder shook her head in frustration:”  This isn’t about that, Jenni. It was about their safety.”
Softly you intervened:” We’re okay, Alexia. Really.”
“I hope so.”, she grumbled.”
“The kiss.”, Aitana started.
Promptly you interrupted her:” That was just a measure to make him leave, Tana.”
You could hear her voice being filled with scepticism:” Yeah, definitely looked like that.”
“We’re just very convincing that’s all.”, Ona replied with a wink.
“Sure.”, Aitana said, clearly not believing a word she said.
“Let’s stay with us for now please.”, Alexia pleaded smiling.
Despite the incident earlier you enjoyed that night out. So much that you looked up in surprise a couple of hours later:” You’re leaving?”
“It’s late, children.”, Jenni answered amused.
Her comment made Ona blush:” We’ve not noticed.”
“Of course, you two didn’t.”, Aitana remarked giggling.
2020
“Wait, Ona you’re going to Manchester?!”, you repeated while feeling weirdly numb to the news your best friend just told you in your own appartement.
“Yeah, I’m signing the contract in a few days.”, she tried to keep her voice calm even though your reaction confused her.
“Oh. Wow.”, you muttered.
A bitter laugh escaped Ona’s mouth:” What? You’re not even excited for me?”
“No, I just hoped you would go back to Barca.”, you admitted.
She raised an eyebrow:“Why?”
“Doesn’t matter. Good luck in cold England.”, you waved it off.
“Thanks. I don’t need it. If you excuse me now, I must continue packing.”, the hurt in her voice was undeniable. You noticed that the defender was holding on to one of your sweaters which she was trying to put into her tote bag: “That’s mine, can I have it back?”
“It’s my sweater.”, Ona coldly stated.
“Whatever.”
She was already on her way to the front door but turned around glancing hopeful at you:” You’ll visit me, right.”
“We’ll see about that.”, you replied.
Much later you’d realize that you didn’t react like a best friend more like a lover who was hurt that her love was leaving for another country to find success abroad.
to be continued...
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alexia trying to play it cool (even though she's dying inside) while inés burns the breakfast and offends her catalan sensibilities on tomatoes 😂
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museszm · 2 days
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POV: You’re Alexia’s friend
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outsideratheart · 3 days
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