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blueaetherr · 1 year

Note

hi would you write a fluff with Mason Mount? Maybe they are having a baby and they decide to spread the news to his family on a dinner? I really appreciate your writing! 💗

the good news

pairing: mason mount x fem!reader [she/her]

warning(s): none

summary: the one where they share the news about their growing family with mason's family

author's note: hi anon, thanks for the requests and ur kind words! i haven't written for mason for a while so this one is a bit shorter compared to my recent ones, but i still hope you enjoy it. also, i'll be trying to write more for the next few days so my requests are currently open!

"I'm real nervous right now," Y/N said, quite out of nowhere, as the two were strolling on the footpath.

Mason chuckled to himself as he guided his partner around a puddle so she wouldn't step in it. "You make it seem like you're meeting my parents for the first time."

Perhaps sure it wouldn't be the first time for Y/N, but it definitely felt like it. She remembers that day—meeting Mason's parents that is, and the emotions and experience that came with it all. She was initially a wreck. She remembers her nerves flaring up; the shaking hands, the unsure smiles, that feeling of not feeling prepared for any confrontation, constantly having to recheck her appearance over and over in the mirror before they left.

Fortunately, with her nerves acting up came Mason. Through his voice and physical touch, he was there to put her at ease. Reassuring Y/N that everything would be alright, that she didn't need to fuss over an outfit because she already looked perfect, that her interest in him– something so pure and real– was enough for his family to love her as they did him. From the time he had arrived at her apartment to when they had reached his parents' home, Mason remained her voice of reason.

So Y/N trusted Mason, and she was right to trust him. 'Cause from the friendly welcomes she received from everyone in his family to sharing kind conversations with his mom and bonding so well with her, it was a good day for her—an outwardly positive experience. She had walked away pleased with the meeting.

Those same emotions felt back almost two years ago were being felt right now. Or maybe that was just because of the acute life growing inside her.

"I promise there's no reason to be, love. Why would you be anyway? I know my mum tries to bring up the baby convos with you too." He pointed at his girlfriend when he noticed her dimples appear, making him tilt his head back in laughter. Exhaling deeply, he shook his head. "Of course she does."

Both Mason and Y/N knew his parents were excited that they were together, especially his mom. They didn't guarantee anything like kids or marriage when Mason finally got a girlfriend, and his parents respected that. His relationship, now rather established and prospering, simply kept the hope alive.

He opened the front gate of his parents' home, allowing Y/N to pass by first. "They love me but they probably love you a bit more." Stopping at the front door, he took the opportunity to press his lips against her cheek and watched her smile flourish even more. If her nerves really were present, he wanted to be the one to give her reassurance; to let her know everything would be alright. "This is everything my mum has ever wanted for us. I think we're in the good."

She felt her head tilt in admiration for Mason. For his emotional support through his jokes and distinct words because it wasn't the first she had heard them. The reassurance he was giving her mirrored the one he'd offered her some time ago– back when he had introduced her to his family. She absolutely loved the growth in his words, the transition from they'll love you to they love you made her feel whole.

And from there, the rest was only deja vu for Y/N. The door opened and they were welcomed by Mason's mom with her smiles and everything galore, with her embraces too for Y/N that felt like unique warmth and kindness and love. And it was all the same with his friends and family present. Speaking to her with commonality, including her in jokes and conversations by simply mentioning her name or calling for her input.

Or the moments when someone would pull Y/N away from Mason when he wanted her all to himself. It was something that should've annoyed Mason, but honestly he didn't mind it. Witnessing his favourite people interact and have fun was a sight he would never be tired of seeing. It was also 'cause when Mason would catch her attention from across the room and mouth I told you so, Y/N would cave in and roll her eyes. But always did she follow it up with a small laugh.

'Cause when it was all said and done, Mason wasn't far from the truth—Y/N, with time, came to understand that well. From his parents to his siblings and friends, she was loved and embraced by everyone with open arms. There was nothing for her to be scared of.

And glancing around at everyone as they were sitting around the dining table for dinner—passing around food options with harmony, clutching onto one another from excessive laughter, encouraging conversation and simple talk for everyone to be involved in—Y/N realised that's the environment she wanted to be around. For herself, for her relationship with Mason and for their future child.

An environment where you would feel accepted, loved and felt like you belonged among this amazing band of people. Where someone would pull you in when you were suddenly drifting, where you would find yourself entertained when everything seemed quite dull, where you would smile and laugh without any intention of stopping 'cause you were just so consumed with joy and happiness.

That's all Y/N wanted for her budding family—comfort and security, a place clear of judgement. That's all she could ask for.

Hearing her name being called out, she turned to the person calling for her attention– Mason's mom. "Y/N, you okay hun? You kinda blanked out on us there."

Y/N blinked a few times, realising that she had indeed drifted for a minute or two. Thankfully, the room was busy with chat and laughter, so the focus wasn't completely on her. "Oh sorry, I'm fine, yeah," she moved her hair off her shoulders, chuckling through a soft exhale. "It's been happening for a while now. I didn't think the first three months would be like this."

It was only when she was taking a slip of her drink that Y/N realised the phrasing of her words, quickly putting it down to correct herself. She seemed to be late, however, when a gasp from Mason's mom had the commotion in the room fall flat. Her glance at the young couple caused the focus to shift to Y/N and Mason as everyone witnessed the older woman struggle to form her words.

"What do you mean by that?" she asked, glancing between her son and his partner. She tried to hide it, but there was a bit of excitement in her words. She had an idea in mind (I mean, it seemed a bit obvious), but she needed someone to confirm her thoughts before she could celebrate anything. "What does she mean by that, Mase?"

It was amusing because Mason and Y/N chose to announce the good news without saying anything. Joining hands, fingers interlocking well, they shared smiles keen and knowing before her free hand fell comfortably on her stomach.

That was enough confirmation for his mom who was the first to react; a cry full of happiness and delight that sent everyone in the room in awe. And from there everything else went so fast: the congratulations, the whole yet delicate hugs, the kisses on her cheeks and forehead, the reassuring words from every other person approaching the couple– that they would be supported and loved during the next few challenging months.

It was all overwhelming for Y/N as she wiped away those few stray tears, with her laughter and smiles, however, far more prominent. This environment that she wanted for her aspiring family was no longer a want; she was officially a part of it now.

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footballxixstars · 6 months

Text

Kicking Baby • Erling Haaland

Child/Parent Prompt List v.2 • Number 8

“Mummy it kicked me. The baby kicked me,”

“Mummy it kicked me. The baby kicked me,” Your daughter got out sounding slightly astonished like she didn’t know that babies could move and kick in the tummy. To be fair she is only 4 so she probably didn’t however you have spoken about it before as it had happened before just not whilst she was leaning against your tummy. The baby had been moving around all day and it was slightly uncomfortable so you managed to persuade your daughter to sit down and watch a film together. She was lying down cuddling into you when the baby kicked her.

“They’re saying hello to their big sister,” You gasped. Once again the baby kicked against your daughter's hands which were now on your tummy and she started giggling and just looked at you with amazement in her eyes.

“Hi baby,” Your daughter giggled now patting your stomach as well to say hello to the baby. This made a smile come over your face and carefully you grabbed your phone to record this moment. From the moment you found out you were pregnant you were nervous about how your daughter would react to it because she was so used to having all of your and Erling’s attention however when you told her she was so excited and both you and Erling have made sure has been a part of it all not wanting her to be left out at all. Your daughter has loved going to the scans to see the baby and hearing the heartbeat and she’s even loved picking out a teddy and some clothes for the new baby. She is very excited and that is showing right now.

Pulling you from your thoughts your daughter let out a screech but before you could warn her she had ran off to go and grab something. It wasn’t long before she came running back in with a couple of her own books in her hands and you were slightly confused because as much as she loves reading she would rather sit and watch a film like you were doing but now she had several books in her hands.

“Are we going to read Bubba?” You questioned manoeuvring yourself so you were in a more comfortable position to read. Your daughter just shook her head as she bounced over to you and climbed onto the sofa placing the books next to her.

“I’m going to read to the baby since they are awake,” Your daughter spoke picking up her favourite book and opening it up. Your daughter was only starting to learn to read so she couldn’t actually read it with the actual words and make it accurate however considering how much you and Erling had read it she could probably recite it word for word. Plus there were pictures so she could make it up.

You just stayed there lying on the sofa allowing your daughter to ‘read’ the books to the baby and after taking a video of the moment you put your phone down and just enjoyed the moment. When your second child is born you know that there won’t be a lot of peaceful moments so you have to take it all in now plus this moment is actually adorable. As your daughter was reading you heard the front door open and you knew that Erling was home after training. That was how you could tell that your daughter was so engrossed in reading because usually she would sprint to the door to meet him but now she’s just reading.

Keeping one eye on the door you watched and waited for Erling to come through and when he did you put your finger up to your lips telling him to keep quiet as you didn’t want him to disturb what was happening. He just nodded his head and pointed to the bedroom before disappearing. He was obviously going to change before interrupting the moment. Change into something more comfortable and sort himself out before your daughter wants his constant attention. After letting her know about her new baby sibling, she was excited but at the same time has become significantly clingier with you both probably knowing that she will have to share attention with the new baby so she’ll try to get it all now. It was nice but was also making you nervous about the new baby's arrival.

“Hi,” You mouthed to Erling when he returned to the room after getting changed. He had this soft smile on his face and his hair was down flowing free around his shoulders allowing it to relax a bit after being up in a bun all day because of training. He loved being able to get home and just let his hair loose and so did your daughter who loved platting it and doing a bunch of different things to it. To be honest you were slightly jealous of his hair. It’s so soft and shiny and you adore just running your hand through it. You love it when it’s down as it usually means he’s relaxing and when he puts it up it’s to get it out of his face so he can do some sort of work and it’s usually never up unless your daughter has done it when he’s at home. You get to see it all lovely and free-flowing.

“Hi,” He mouthed back as he walked closer. He placed a soft kiss against your temple before leaning down and grabbing your daughter and tickling her causing her to screech and let out a bunch of giggles whilst wriggling around trying to get out of Erling’s hold.

“Daddy,” She squealed, and Erling stopped tickling her and actually cuddled her this time. She leaned into his arms and laid her head on his shoulders just cuddling into him. One of her hands crawled around his back to grab the ends of his hair which she ended up twirling around her fingers.

“What have you been doing?” Erling softly asked her.

“The baby kicked me,” She told him, smiling brightly. Her smile was the exact copy of Erling’s very own smile. It was mental how much she looked like Erling at times. Also, it was quite rude considering you carried her for 9 months and she has the audacity to look like Erling. Her eyes even crease in the same way his did when she smiles and laughs. It is adorable.

“The baby kicked you,” Erling responded pretending to sound shocked by that and your daughter enthusiastically nodded her head and started rambling on and on about the baby and it kicking her before moving on to talking about god knows what. Erling listened intently to every word even if some of it made no sense whatsoever and even if some of the words she was speaking weren’t real words. He hung on to every word his daughter was saying, umming and ahhing and even asking a couple questions too which you think your daughter ignored because she was busy just rambling on whilst still twirling Erling’s hair around her little fingers.

“I’m reading,” She eventually said interrupting her own little ramble before wiggling to get down. Once Erling let her down she ran to grab one of her books and sat next to you and began reading again. Meanwhile, Erling took a seat next to you on your other side and wrapped one arm around you whilst the other was resting possessively against your stomach just listening to your daughter trying to read the book. It was one of the rare and peaceful moments in this crazy household. Every now and then your daughter would look at you and Erling and you both would give her a smile so she would continue. It’s good to get her reading and it’s actually nice to listen to and see her improvement.

“Our little family,” He whispered, rubbing your stomach and causing your child that was in your stomach to start kicking and moving around. It was a nice feeling especially with Erling’s hand there and Erling loved feeling the baby kick too. Like your daughter it made him included in the pregnancy, slightly anyway. Before you were able to say anything back to him your daughter had seemed to finish reading her book to your bump and apparently needed entertaining by a very specific person. Erling.

“Daddy, I'm bored. Can I do your hair?” Your daughter begged pushing her book onto the floor.

“You’re soon going to have two of them pulling you in a million different directions,” You chuckled when he gave you a look that said ‘please save me.’ He loves his daughter, he does, and loves playing with her and would honestly do anything for her however when she does his hair… it hurts. He’s actually shocked that he has as much hair as he does considering how hard your daughter pulls it. He will never say no to her though because your daughter thoroughly enjoys it and he loves anything that she does.

“I can’t wait,” He replied kissing your temple and bump before moving to entertain your daughter whilst you stayed sitting on the sofa. This is your little family and you cannot wait for the adventure when the new baby arrives.

MASTERLIST | MORE HAALAND

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damiansgoodgirll · 8 months

Note

Jude being clingy and wanting reader to hold him

jude bellingham x reader

clingy

“jude please…i gotta do a lot of things today” you said trying to stand up from the bed but jude’s hands wouldn’t leave your body.

“no…” he mumbled into your neck.

“jude…” you almost begged him.

“five more minutes please…then i’ll let you go” he whispered half asleep and you knew you couldn’t say no to that.

“okay…just five more minutes…” and of course, five more minutes turned into an hour as you fell asleep once again. you almost ended up sleeping all morning and when you woke up again you almost had a heart attack seeing how late it was.

you violently moved jude’s body away from yours and you stood up.

you heard jude groaning but you didn’t care.

the house was a mess as you and jude just came back from a weekend in greece and you left your suitcases all over the living room. you needed to buy some food because you had only a few things left, you needed to go to the post office to send a few packages and you needed to clean the house a little and of course, waking up almost at lunch time didn’t make it easy for you to do all of that.

“come back to bed…” jude slightly opened his eyes when he heard noises coming from the bathroom.

“nope! now you get up and you help me with the house…first of all take your luggage away from the living room cause i have to wash the floor” you said exiting the bathroom.

“later…i’m tired…and you should come back to bed with me, i wanna cuddle” he gave you his puppy look and you almost came back to bed, almost.

jude got up too when he saw you leaving the bedroom and he followed you like a puppy. he moved his luggage back to the bedroom but he stayed with you the whole time you cleaned the floor, he watched every movement you made.

he watched as you unpacked your clothes and put them in the washing machine. he didn’t leave your side when you were cooking lunch for the two of you and he even helped you setting the table.

but once he was done, his hands came back to your waist as he laid his head in the crook of your neck.

“jude…”

“you smell good” he said leaving a soft kiss to your neck.

“nah…it’s probably the food” you joked.

you both ate together but the moment you stood up to clean the dishes, jude did it first and ran to the sink.

“you know it’s not a challenge right…” you teased him.

“i know but when the dishes are done we can cuddle on the couch so i want to do them quickly…” he said giving you the puppy eyes once again.

“we have to go buy some food at the market” you told him but he said no.

“we can go tomorrow and take out tonight…please” he begged you.

so when the dishes were done, jude practically grabbed and threw you on the couch.

“hold me please…” he whispered as he laid his head over your stomach. it wasn’t really often that jude would be clingy like that but everything he searched for your warmth you couldn’t help but melt.

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helen-with-an-a · 1 month

Text

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

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

#barca femeni #barca femeni x reader #fc barcelona #woso blurbs #woso community #woso imagine #woso x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #woso fanfics #woso fluff #woso oneshot #woso angst #woso #womens football #woso soccer

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purinfelix · 4 months

Text

"scratchy"

pairing: gavi x reader (established relationship) summary: you love your boyfriend's new look, but it proves a slight challenge when it comes to kisses warnings: none! w/c: 712

a/n: when i made this post abt this idea after seeing the pics at first i wasn't expecting so many ppl to like it 😭 ... so i'm really hoping i did it justice !!! pls enjoy !!!

taglist for this fic! (love u all <3): @gadriezmannsgirl @emz2092 @spidybaby @goldenalbon @gavisuntiedboot @zowanew

“Baby,” you cooed, trying your best to sound apologetic and not burst into a fit of giggles at the sight of your boyfriend standing at the corner of your bed like a sad puppy. The pet name only seemed to make things worse though, his pout deepening as he shrugged off your attempts to use affection to win him back.

With a soft sigh, you pushed yourself up onto your elbows so you could look at him properly - and so he could properly see the remorse and guilt on your face.

”I already said I’m sorry,” your tone was soft - at least as soft as you could manage whilst holding back laughter at how adorable he looked - “please just come back to bed so I can make it up to you.”

“I can’t believe you pulled away from my kiss.”

“I’m sorry!”

“Did you not want it?” his brows were furrowed in confusion as if the concept of you dodging his show of love was genuinely puzzling to him. It was equal parts endearing and heart-breaking.

”It’s not that, it’s just that …” you trailed off, eyes already busy scanning your boyfriend’s face. All of his familiarly handsome features laid bare for you, his deep brown eyes looking at you with an intensity that could only be accompanied by his perfect lips which were twisted into a frown.

Still, you couldn’t help but let your faze drift to the most recent addition to his look - a tiny bit of stubble that dotted his jawline and upper lip. You hadn’t really noticed how dark his facial hair had gotten until just now, when he had swooped in for a kiss and the short hair had scratched against your face. It was an odd feeling, to say the least, and you had pulled back without thinking much of it, your face twisted into an expression of discomfort.

You were brought back to the current time when your boyfriend cleared his throat, urging you to continue your explanation.

“It’s just that,” you pause for a moment to let his brows raise in curiosity, “your facial hair - it’s a bit scratchy.”

At your confession, his accusatory stance dropped as his shoulder drooped slightly. “I thought you liked it though,” he said in a tiny quiet voice, not even looking up at you as he said it.

You hurried to assure him. “I do! I think it makes you look more mature, more manly, more …” you paused once more, searching for just the right word to express your appreciation for his new look, ”more handsome.”

This seemed to do the trick, as a sheepish smile spread across his face before he lunged onto the bed beside you. He buried his face into his pillow, both to stifle a fit of boyish giggles and to hide the pink blush your compliment had caused. You couldn’t help yourself from running a hand through his hair, before cupping his face and pulling it gently to face you. Instinctively he leant in for a kiss with his passionate roughness and you had to stop him once more.

“Gently,” you reminded him, not needing to speak much louder given how close his face was to yours. He understood you perfectly though, moving smoothly with a gentle tentativeness as he connected his lips to yours, cautiously avoiding rubbing his facial hair against your face. He let out a satisfied hum, almost melting into the kiss he had been waiting so long for.

Finally, though, your lips parted as he pulled away - eager to ask another question.

“You really don’t mind the beard?” he withdrew the hand that had been previously wrapped around your waist to rub at his own jaw.

“I don’t know if I’d call it a beard just yet baby, but I do like it. I’d like you with any look,” you assured him with a soft giggle.

“What if I went bald?”

A slight pause as you thought. “Maybe not.”

Gavi only chuckled at this, pulling you in once more for another kiss - and you didn’t have to remind him this time as he kissed you with such gentleness it made your heart flutter purely with how precious it made you feel.

#pablo gavi #gavi x reader #gavi x you #gavi fluff #gavi oneshot #gavi imagine #gavi fanfic #football #fc barcelona #fanfic #football fanfic #purinfelix #jet writes ★

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old-lorarri · 2 months

Text

꒰꒰‧₊˚𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐓 ─ 𝐓𝐓𝐀𝟔𝟔 ˚₊· ꒱꒱

─ summary . . . ❨ people find out about the former relationships of two of the best altheltes in the world and they can't help but pray they get back together ❩ ─ pairing . . . ❨ trent alexander arnold x fem! scouse! f1 driver! reader ❩ ─ genre . . . ❨ social media file ❩ ─ author note . . . ❨ btw a bezzie means a bestie if any of you were wondering also part 2 coming soon so till then enjoy ❩

❨ masterlist | next ❩

nothingbut_yn

liked by trentarnold66 565 others

nothingbut_yn night on the town with my bezzie 🤪

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trentarnold66 bezzie 4 life 🤪 ⤷ user what happened...

user god why did you take this it couple for us

user COME BACK WE MISS YOU GUYSSSS

user what I would give to have lived in this era of them

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nothingbut_yn

liked by trentarnold66 264 others

nothingbut_yn bezzie to bae 💞

view comments

trentarnold66 I love you baby ❤️ ⤷ user WHERE DID THIS LOVE GOOOOOO

user they were so cute 💔

user they were the parents I need but can't have

user brb imma go cry rn

user okay jokes over...now get back together

user my mother has divorced my father. sobs.

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nothingbut_yn

liked by trentarnold66 345 others

nothingbut_yn nothing breaks like a heart 💔

view comments

user no trent comment...

user oh baby :(

user noooo my parents

user WHAT HAPPENED

user heartbreaks lead to happiness and success down the line and Y/N is a perfect case of that

user god plz bring these two back together

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trentarnold66 and yourinstagram . 4hrs ago

seen by masonmount charles_leclerc 87,489,489 others

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lecsainz · 5 months

Note

I just wanna say that I love your fics! and want know if you can make one with Travis Kelce and reader where they lost a baby

NOT AGAIN

˒ ⌕ masterlist . . .

parings: travis kelce + wife!reader

summary: the one where you and travis lost a baby.

🗒️: I had no idea how to write this, I did it as I saw in movies and series so forgive me if it got bad.

type: angst ✶

The sterile walls of the hospital room echoed the heavy silence between Travis and Y/N. Their eyes spoke volumes, burdened with the weight of a shared sorrow. Y/N clutched the ultrasound picture, a cruel reminder of dreams shattered once again.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Kelce," the doctor's words lingered, a haunting refrain in the room.

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes as she whispered, "Not again. Why does this keep happening, Trav?"

He wrapped his arms around her, his voice barely above a whisper, "Life's just been cruel to us, love."

The grief hung thick, palpable. Travis wiped away Y/N's tears, his own eyes mirroring her pain. They navigated through the wreckage of shattered hopes, mourning a child that would never be cradled in their arms.

Days turned into nights, and silence engulfed their home like a heavy fog. Travis found Y/N sitting in the nursery, surrounded by baby clothes and a crib that would remain empty.

"I can't bear this emptiness," Y/N whispered, her voice breaking.

Travis knelt beside her, their hands entwined. "We'll get through this together, no matter how many times life tests us."

As Y/N uttered those words, Travis's phone rang, the caller ID flashing with his mother's name. With a heavy sigh, he answered, the weight of grief evident in his voice.

"Mom, it's not a good time," Travis murmured, trying to maintain composure.

His mother's cheerful tone echoed through the phone, unaware of the tragedy that had befallen them. "I was just checking in. How's Y/N doing? Is the baby kicking yet?"

Travis closed his eyes, the lump in his throat growing. "Mom, we... we lost the baby."

A stunned silence followed, broken only by Y/N's muffled sobs. Travis closed his eyes, grappling with the weight of the words he had just spoken.

His mother's voice cracked, "Oh, Travis, I'm so sorry. How's Y/N?"

Travis turned to Y/N, her grief-stricken face reflecting the agony in his own heart. He hugged her tightly, shielding her from the world. "She's hurting, Mom. We both are."

His mother's voice softened, "Oh, Travis, I'm so sorry. We'll be there for you both, however you need."

After ending the call, Travis turned to Y/N, her tear-stained face etched with pain. He gently cupped her cheeks, forcing her to meet his gaze. "It's not your fault, Y/N. You hear me? This isn't on you."

She shook her head, tears streaming down. "Travis, what if it is? What if I can't give you the family we dreamed of?"

His heart ached at her words. Travis embraced her, whispering, "No, love, don't you dare blame yourself. We'll face this together, just like we always have."

#travis kelce social media au #travis kelce x you #travis kelce oneshot #travis kelce fic #🏈. — american football works ⋆ ࣪.*#travis kelce x reader #travis kelce au #travis kelce one shot #travis kelce fanfic #travis kelce imagine #travis kelce #nfl x reader #nfl fluff #nfl fic #nfl fanfic #nfl imagine #nfl football #nfl #travis kelce imagines

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qraceiuv · 5 months

Note

heyy! i love your writing sm‼️🫶

i have a request for jude x singer!reader with sabrina carpenter as the fc?? reader writing nonsense about jude and bonus if she dedicates one of her nonsense outros to him while he’s in the crowd (if yk about sabrina’s nonsense outros)

thank youu! ❤️❤️

nonsense. jude bellingham.

summary — fans suspect something between you and jude, so you confirm it in your signature outro at a concert

note — thank u sm love!! sorry im so late to making this, but hopefully it turned out good. i literally love sabrina sm

warnings — none i can think of, just lots of suggestive jokes

_________________________________________

y/nsusername

y/nsusername: tour is back 🩷 see u tn madrid!

—

username: mother

username: THE OUTFIT OMG

username: nonsense outros r back😻😻

yourfriend: hottie

username: my gf who isnt my gf but is my gf

gracieabrams: stunning

y/nsusername

y/nsusername: next stop: paris

—

username: barking

username: SEE U SOON🤗🤗

username: jude liked girl.

username: yes!! ignore the jude allegations!!

— username: LMFAOO

username: jealous of jude

username: JUDE AND TRENT LIKED

— username: TRENT?! HELLO

username: marry me pls

username: if jude shows up tn i will scream

username: who tf is jude and why is he w my gf

— username: some famous football player who is hot im not sure but im abt to become a mf fan

y/nsusername

y/nsusername: this leg of the tour has been so happy and im loving every second of it 🤍 thank u for the memories, heres a lil dump before i head to london!

—

username: WHO THE HELL.

username: GIRL U CANNOT FOOL US WITH THE SAPPY CAPTION.

username: WHO?!

username: THAT IS JUDE MF BELLINGAM

username: BELLINGOLLL

username: GIRL GET OUT

username: WHY ARE WE ALL SCREAMING

username: lol not u cheating on me 😂

username: im leaving you

username: HAHAHAHAHAH (kill me)

username: soft launch with a twist?

y/nsusername

y/nsusername: think i'm screwed...

—

username: what is this behavior

username: IM IM IM

username: hi i am jude

username: no like ur insane

username: imma be sick

username: so happy for u!! 😂😂 (im jumping)

username: THE CAPTION GIRL

username: ur a diff type of evil

yourfriend: about time

— username: ABOUT TIME?! HOW LONG

judebellingham: i have a migraine

— y/nsusername: alright now buddy

— username: WHAT THE FUCK

username: he commented WHAT

username: this is insane

judebellingham

judebellingham: nonsense

—

username: logging off forever

username: THEY ARE CRAZY

username: no i love them sm

username: why are they so cute😭😭

username: 5th slide stfu

username: theres only sm i can handle

y/nsusername: of all the pics you could choose

— judebellingham: you're always so beautiful my love

— username: ALRIGHT PUT THE PHONE DOWN

y/nsusername: IM TALKIN WILD WILD THOUGHTS

— yourfriend: get a room

y/nsusername: love you🥰

— judebellingham: i love you more

_________________________________________

#jude bellingham #fanfic #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham oneshot #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x you #jude x reader #jude bellingham fic #judebellingham #jude fic #jude bellingham smau #jude bellingham social media au #jude bellingham x fem!reader #jude bellingham smut #soccer x reader #soccer imagine #football imagine #qraceiuv

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pitchsidestories · 26 days

Text

underneath your clothes II Cata Coll x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1687

a/n: based off the cute request here. We're really craving a tattoo on our own now after finishing this oneshot. 😂

You knew tattoos were your passion since you had gotten your first one aged eighteen. So by opening your own tattoo studio with your best friend, you had fullfilled one of your life goals in the last year.

It was not always easy but you loved your job, especially when you could make your clients happy with your artwork. But at the moment, business was slow.

You were focused on wiping down the counter when your best friend and coworker Carla grinned at you: “Your favourite customer is back, y/n.”

Surprised, you looked up and saw someone walk towards the door of your studio: “What? Oh, she‘s not my favourite customer, Cata has been her only once before.”

“She‘s still your favourite.”, Carla shrugged with a smug look on her face.

You grimaced at her: “I don‘t have favourites.” Turning to your customer, you greeted her: “Cata, hi.”

“Hi.”, the goalkeeper smiled at you.

“You‘re here for another tattoo?”, you asked politely.

She nodded: “I am.”

“Do you have something specific in mind?” You noticed her gaze linger on the inked skin of your left arm.

“Uhm, yeah…”, she replied, catching herself and looking back at your face.

You bit back a smile as you thrust your arm in her direction to show her the floral tattoo wraping around your forearm: “Liking this one?”

Catas cheeks reddened: “I do. It‘s beautiful.”

“Thank you.”, you replied. You could feel Carlas eyes on you.

“But I actually wanted to get something for my sister today. Maybe next time.”, Cata explained.

“Oh, that‘s sweet.”

The football player continued while she gestured towards her upper arm: “Yeah, I want it to be on my arm. I was thinking about a wave or something.”

“Is there a meaning behind the wave?”, you asked curiosly while simultaneously trying to picture the perfect tattoo for her.

Cata nodded with excitement: “Yes, we grew up in Mallorca…”

“Thats is adorable. I love when people tell me the meaning of their tattoos.”, you happily replied while getting your sketchbook.

“Ever been to the island?”, Cata asked while she watched you starting to draw different kinds of waves.

Without looking up from your work, you explained: “Actually, yes. My mother was born there and part of her family still lives there so we spend all of the vacations in my childhood there.”

You could hear the astonishment in her voice: “Wait, you did?”

“Yes.”

“That‘s a funny coincidence.”

You slid the sketchbook in Catas direction so she could have a look: “Who knows, maybe we‘ve met each other before without knowing. So which wave do you like best?”

The goalkeeper looked thoughtfully at the drawings in front of her:” I like that one.”

With a dreamy smile on her lips Cata continued: “This is a nice thought actually. That we might have already met before.”

“I agree.”, you responded in a warm tone.

“I’m going to the coffeeshop, would you two like an iced coffee?”, Carla chirmed.

“Sure.”, you nodded.

“Nothing beats iced coffee on a warm spring day.”, the Barcelona player confirmed.

“So true.”, you agreed.

After Carla left the coffeeshop Cata promised you with a wink:” Next time, I’ll bring you an iced coffee before I show up.”

“You want another one already? Don’t you get into trouble for it from your coach or something.”, you raised an eyebrow at her.

Confidently she waved it off: “Oh, no. If it’s done in my free time, he can’t say anything about it.”

“Okay, good.”, you sighed relived.

“Don’t worry. I won’t get in trouble.”, the professional athlete replied.

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“Also, it’s just a small one.”, Cata reminded you while you were drawing the wave on her skin with a needle.

For a moment you looked up from your work:” Right.”

Meanwhile Carla had returned, bringing the coffees immediately to both of you:” Hey girls, I’m back.”

“Thank you, Carla.”, you answered sincerely.

“You’re welcome.”, she mumbled.

You quickly took a sip from the coffee before asking her:” What do you think of Catas new tattoo.”

After your friend took a closer look at your art piece, she whistled: “Oh, this is nice.”

“It symbolizes my sister.”, Cata explained beaming.

“How cute.”, Carla smirked.

While they talked for a bit you added the finishing touches until the tattoo was done:” Now you’re ready to go, Cata.”

“Thanks. I love it.”, the goalkeeper told you happily.

“My pleasure.”, you said and meant every word whole heartedly.

She stood up excitedly:” I’ll call you soon for a new appointment.”

“Alright.”, you answered.

After Cata has left your best friend declared dramatically:” That poor girl.”

“What?”, you frowned at her.

“Oh please, don’t play dumb.”, Carla begged you groaning.

This was the moment you realized what she has been hinting at:” Don’t worry. Next time, I’ll ask her out.”

Normally you didn’t open to customers like you did with the Barcelona player. Even though it was you who was the person who has seen her upper body without clothes, her dark eyes seemed to have seen right through you.

“You should.”, your friend grinned.

You couldn’t help but to blush as you thought about Cata:” She’s so cute, Carla.”

“I could tell that you thought that.”

Guys! Cata has a crush on her tattoo artist!“, Claudia yelled full of excitement.

The other Barcelona players looked up from their team dinner with varying degrees of curiousity and surprise while Catas cheeks turned red. A minute ago, she had just shown her new tattoo to Claudia and Patri but the youngest midfielder had immediately caught on as she heard the way Cata talked about her tattoo artist.

“Oh, that’s why she’s getting so many tattoos recently!“, Ona exclaimed with laugh.

“That’s not true.“, Cata tried to defend herself.

Mariona just smiled sweetly at her: “That’s so cute, Cata.“

“Guys, stop.“

When Alexia finally spoke up, Cata had hoped that she would call her teammates back to order but instead she just tilted her head: “So, when are you going to see her again?“

“Whenever I get my next tattoo?“, the goalkeeper shrugged.

Patri raised an eyebrow: “And that��s soon?“

“I mean I do have an idea for the next one.“, Cata admitted with a small smile on her lips.

Salma shared a knowing look with Patri: “Guess this means very soon.“

Cata was back at your tattoo studio only a few weeks after her newest tattoo, this time with an iced coffee in hand. You caught yourself smiling subconsciously as you watched the football player walked in.

“Hi Cata.“, you greeted her and gratefully took the drink from her that she handed to you. “Thank you for the coffee.“

Cata smiled as you took a sip: “Told you, I’d bring you one.“

“Appreciate it.“

It was the perfect mix of sweet and bitter. Exactly how you liked it. You set down the coffee on the front desk and thoroughly looked at the goalkeeper: “But you know that you don’t have to get tattoos all the time to ask me out on a date.“

You rolled your eyes with a chuckle.

Cata looked at you dumbfounded: “Wait, what?“

“Cata, would you like to go on a date with me?“, you asked politely.

Her face immediately lit up: “I would love to.“

“Great.“, you said and had to bite back a laugh as Carla pumped her fist in excitement behind Cata.

But the goalkeeper caught your attention again: “When is your shift over?“

“At 5 pm.“, you replied truthfully.

Cata nodded with a big grin on her face: “I’ll pick you up then?“

You nodded happily: “Yes, okay.“

“Perfect.“

Cata left the studio without a tattoo this time but she did leave the feeling of butterflies in your stomach instead.

At exactly 5 pm, Cata waited for you in front of the studio. From what you saw through the window, she looked great in her button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to showcase her tattoos. You could barely wait to close the studio.

When you finally locked the door behind yourself, the two of you awkwardly smiled at each other and you had to admit that Cata looked even better when she was right in front you.

You pointed at the picnic basket she was holding in her right hand: “Where are we going?“

“Just trust me, follow me.”, the goalkeeper replied warmly.

You didn’t know why but you trusted her immediately. Walking along side Cata made you feel safe and welcomed. When you reached the destination, you stood there in awe: “Oh my god, the view is stunning.”

“It’s, right?”, she grinned at you.

Truthfully you told her:” Yes, I love it.”

“I hoped you would.”, the player answered satisfied.

Watching at Barcelona from a distance made your worries surrounding your tattoo studio look small in comparison and you felt lighter in the company of the other woman, so you mouthed into her direction a heartfelt thank you.

“Here’s some food.”, Cata hummed, handing you some antipasti to eat.

Closing your eyes you mumbled:” It’s delicious.”

“Wine?”, she asked you, proving to be the perfect gentlewoman.

“Sure.”, you nodded, as the goalkeeper filled your glasses and you both took a deep sip.

“You know I would have come by to get a million more tattoos just to spend time with you.”, Cata confessed with a wink.

You looked into her eyes amused:” I do, so I had to save you from yourself.”

“That’s sweet. But I still want some more.”, the goalkeeper smirked.

Quickly you promised her:” You can get them one at a time.”

“I will.”

With that said you went forward to kiss her, she gladly replied to the kiss, pulling you closer to her, to fully embrace you in her strong arms.

A few weeks had gone by, and Cata and you were officially girlfriends. You were in the tattoo studio when Carla excitedly exclaimed:” Y/n? Thanks to your girlfriend a lot of her teammates have asked us to do their tattoos!”

Hearing that you hugged your girlfriend gratefully:” Love!”

“You’re welcome.”, Cata whispered.

#cata coll #cata coll x reader #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #woso community #woso one shot #barcelona femeni x reader #barca femeni #espwnt #woso oneshot #patri guijarro #womens football #cata coll imagine

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daddyricsdoll · 2 months

Note

can i get "can you give me a little spin" with jude bellingham? you both were going out and he says that to you and before you head out it ends with smut. thankss and congratsss

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🐇

The door to our bedroom opens and Judes head pokes out through the gap. A small grin brightening his lips. “Oh you look great.” He welcomes himself in, eyes widening at my appearance. “Give me a little spin.” He motions it with his finger and takes a step back, acting as if I’m too special to be too close to. A wide grin on my lips as he stares at me with awe. The bark of my favourite tree, and pigment of my most loved chocolate gleaming in his eyes. Sparks of confidence exploding through my body as I spin, finally giving myself a worth I never thought I had.

“Oh you’re stunning aren’t ya?” Jude walks forward, hands grabbing the outline of my body. Looking down at me with a raw beauty in his smile, but a smirk that I know all too well starts to peek out.

“You’re so beautiful… I think I need a taste.” His lips drag along my neck.

“Jude, we have to go-”

“It can wait. But you, oh you’re fucking gorgeous, and can’t wait.” Jude’s calloused hands grab my waist and pull my body toward him. “You’re so addicting.” His hands slip behind me and slide the zipper of my dress down. Letting the fabric of my dress start dropping before he pulls it all the way down leaving me in just my panties.

“All for me.” Lifting my body up, just to drop me into the bed. Doing the work of his pants in seconds before crawling onto the bed and spreading my legs wide open. He eagerly drags my panties down my legs and throws them onto the floor to lay beside my dress. Looking down at me with a fiery glint in his eyes.

“Can you take me?” Jude teases.

“When have I not?” I breathe out, leaning on my elbows with my knees bent. Being in a vulnerable position, but feeling so powerful.

“Fuck, you’re right.” He presses his tip against my entrance, making little nudges before thrusting in. Leisurely, but surely fitting his whole length inside of me. A deep groan escaping his parted lips. Resulting in a long broken moan leaving mine.

“My fucking pretty girl.” Jude grunts out as he finds just the right pace to make each of his movements force my breathing to become deeper and unholy sounds to run out of my mouth. My g-spot being used as his own punching bag, hitting it constantly. Sometimes tenderly, but many others with a deep aggression.

“I don’t know if I can go out after this. ‘need to be in you all night.” Jude leans down, planting a soft but needy kiss on my lips. Exchanging moans with each other and indulging in every feeling.

Slowly forgetting about whatever dinner reservation we had as Jude fucks each thought out of my head. Bringing me into a thoughtless, but perfect night.

#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham #jude bellingham x you #footballer oneshot #footballer x y/n #footballer x you #footballer x reader #footballer smut #football smut #footballer fanfic #football #jb5

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blueaetherr · 1 year

Text

torpe

pairing: jude bellingham x gn!reader [they/them]

warning(s): none

summary: the one where jude can't let his feelings be known to the reader

Learning to like or love someone was an unconscious act one did. It was a short process to like someone, a longer one when you learned to love them yet you wouldn't even notice the difference between two—either way, you still held an admiration for them beyond friendly intent.

When you have a deep care for someone, never do you think to care for them—you simply just do. You would go out your way for this person, this friend, this partner—or potential one—and you wouldn't come to notice unless someone pointed it out.

Jude, young and young in love, leaned towards Y/N. At first it was just soft care and affection he felt for a friend, small yet common for others. He appreciated them up close and far, checking up on them anytime he could as one friend would do for another.

The two were friends and everything Y/N and Jude did for one another came from the root of partnership through the friendship. The pair weren't exclusive to one another and never were they in the first play, though sometimes, from time to time, did Jude wish otherwise.

Never was it a secret or just something that he didn't want to share with anyone. Though it also wasn't something he wanted to blurt out to everyone, for others to spectate on something he had no sight of. Either way, to let others know or not, everyone knew and he never told them with his words.

Through his grins their way; through his stiff focus whenever Y/N was in attendance; through his talks on their name did he let others know about his liking towards Y/N. It was common fact rather than a closeted thought.

What he felt about Y/N was real and mature—beyond a small crush. In his eyes, they held more than just his friendship. How he felt, unfortunately, just couldn't be lived out.

"Then why don't you tell them?" A question that he learned to swerve every time. The logical response to his liking to Y/N was to pursue them, right? To confront and to admit everything on his mind, to admit everything on everyone's mind. Jude could—and he would—but his feelings were never given priority to be seen through as they were.

"I was thinking maybe we could do something next weekend." Y/N leaned their arms on the kitchen island, glancing at Jude with a ghost of a smile. Small and comforting, letting him know that they would welcome any answer he gave. "If you're not busy, of course."

"Yeah, sure," he said with his sight on his phone. Outside of their schedules were they around each other, so much that you could say it was a part of their schedules.

"Great. Also, I remember you wanted to tell me something the other day." They took a seat next to him and asked, "What was it?"

Jude looked up from his phone, his mouth falling open. He found himself lost for words even when the answer was obvious. "Oh-- um, nothing." He shrugged with a breezy chuckle. Anyone else but Y/N would know that he didn't find the situation funny. He scratched the nape of his neck. "I don't even remember it myself."

"Are you sure?" Y/N tilted their head. They searched Jude's face for something but found nothing. "The boys keep telling me it's urgent or something. I doubt it but I wanna know."

There were times when he did want to tell them what was constantly on his mind when they were around, to not closet everything to himself. He wanted all he felt to be known. Maybe to see if something, or even, if anything was mutual in the slightest way possible.

Maybe if they saw him the way he saw them, to see if the interest in one another was a two-way path. Wonder and curiosity laid comfortable on his mind, reminding Jude of every different possibility if he just took that leap of faith to admit all that everyone else but Y/N knew.

Wonder and curiosity laid comfortable on his mind, also reminding him of the downsides of outing himself. That's why he stumbled with each word he spoke to them. He would mess up his positive train of thought with some negativity. Never had he felt insecure about himself though the thought of admitting what he felt, however, had him questioning whether he should or not.

Jude, young and young in love, was shy and awkward and nervous in the presence of romantic confrontation. And until that subsided, the possibility of Jude & Y/N would remain an afterthought.

"Positive."

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footballxixstars · 10 months

Text

No More Football Please • Christian Pulisic

Child/Parent Prompt List v.2 • Number 6

“I don’t want to play football anymore.” “What do you want to do?”

“I don’t want to play football anymore,” Your son mumbled out to you and Christian when the two of you were sitting in the living room watching some kind of film together. Looking over at him you saw that he looked all shy and nervous about telling you both this, mainly Christian, like you would both say that he has to continue playing. It’s not like Christian pushed him to play. Neither of you did. The only reason your son plays football is because he begged both of you to be able to play it so it was his own decision and not Christian pushing his own interests on him. Not intentionally anyway. If anything Christian was the one who didn’t really want him to do it. Both of you tried to push him to do other things and explore other interests but he stuck to football and the fact he was now telling you that he no longer wants to do it shocks you. At those words Christian moved his arm that was around you away and sat up more to show that he was listening and ready for this conversation.

“What do you want to do?” Christian asked and your son looked shocked. Shocked and happy. Shocked that you and Christian weren’t arguing with him and trying to make him continue and maybe you should. You’ve put so much time into it and now he no longer wants to do it however deep down you knew that he wasn’t really enjoying it any longer. Plus if your son says that he’s not enjoying it then you don’t want to force him to go to training and games but you do want to talk about it all and not just ask what he wants to do instead like Christian did. Maybe that’s why your son looks so happy but a conversation is definitely needed first.

“Okay, before we or you totally decide what else you want to do or if you actually want to quit football let’s have a conversation about it. Why don’t you want to do it anymore?” You questioned breaking it down with him because you don’t want him to regret this decision in a few months. It would frustrate you if you allowed your son to stop playing football or stop anything really and then later in life he regrets ever making that decision. What if he later regrets it and then resents you for not making him continue? It’s things like that which worries you but if he hates it now you really don’t want to force him to continue.

“Good idea,” Christian said motioning for your son to take a seat on the other sofa. Once again your son looked really anxious about this conversation. He looked calmer when Christian asked what he wanted to do instead but now he’s actually got to talk about why he no longer wants to play football he looks anxious. You gave him a gentle smile hoping that it was reassuring and he would give you the truth and calm down. Neither you nor Christian care too much about why he wants to quit football, however, you are intrigued and want to understand the reasons for it so there is no reason for him to be nervous. Unfortunately, you know that his head doesn't work like that and he will continue to be nervous until the conversation ends but you will do anything to make him more comfortable and reassure him.

“So why don’t you want to do it anymore?” You questioned once again hoping to get the conversation started. It’s not supposed to be an interrogation or feel like one but you know that your son won’t talk without the questions being asked. You know that you have to prompt him with it so that's what you are doing. It’s not supposed to be an interrogation or feel like one. Also with you and Christian sitting on one sofa and him on the other it can probably make it feel like an interrogation and that’s why you’re slouching and leaning back on the sofa. Anything to make this thing seem casual and get your son to talk to you.

“Because- Because it’s not fun. It used to be fun to go to training and play but now everyone is so serious and nothing fun happens. We have to win and if we don’t they all get moody and- and there are no games or laughing anymore. It’s no fun,” Your son said. You remember when he first joined the football team. He was young and he always had a smile on his face and was laughing the whole time. Yes they would do some training drills but the coaches would make fun and games out of it all to keep the kids entertained. A few years have passed since then and now your son plays for a team that is in an actual league and therefore the fun aspect has dropped significantly. Since Christian has played football for years he knew that it would get more serious but he still had fun yet it seems like your son is not having fun and that breaks his heart.

“Do you even like the games?” Christian asked. He remembers the smile your son would have on his face after games and how he would end up babbling to Christian for hours and hours about the game clearly loving playing it. Now though he doesn’t. He tells Christian that it was alright but won’t go into any details about it so Christian was sure that he already knew the answer to his question. Your son was never a competitive person so him not enjoying the competition part of the sport made sense and made sense that he wanted to quit it especially if he wasn’t having fun during training either.

“Yeah,” Your son said not even surprising you or Christian with that answer. You and Christian just hummed not knowing what else to say and it was silent for a few moments until your son spoke up again.

“You always told me to just have fun about it and I’m no longer having fun,” Your son said. And it is true. Both you and Christian had just told your son to not worry about the competition aspect or losing and just have fun because that is the most important thing to you. You just want your son to have fun and if he’s not is that activity even worth doing anymore?

“Do you dread going to training?” Christian asked. He remembers when he was little and he had football training or soccer as he called it back in America. He would always beg his parents to play and take him even when it wasn’t on and when it was on he was bouncing off of the walls excited to go. Even if it was tortuous or repetitive he would still love it because he knew that the repetition would be good because that’s the way he would get better at those basic skills and he needed to be incredible at those simple skills if he wanted to be a footballer one day. He just loved football and would be playing it 24/7 and he may have been that weird kid in school playing real football instead of American football but he loved it. Football was his life. (Until he met you and you had your son). Thinking through it, your son was never like that. Yes, he would play with Christian but not beg every day like Christian did and most of the Christian was the one that initiated playing. Most of the time your son wouldn’t even choose to play except when he asked to start playing for a team but maybe he only asked because he thought that Christian would want him to since Christian plays football. This conversation was making Christian think. Did he really give off the impression that he wanted his son to follow in his footsteps and play football and not do his own thing?

“Yeah. It feels like a chore,” Your son told him. You felt absolutely horrible. How long has your son dreaded going to training? You never wanted him to dread going anywhere and if he was, you wanted him to talk to one of you instantly but that doesn’t seem to have happened. Hopefully he hasn’t dreaded it for long though because that would make you feel so much worse.

“Are you 100% sure you want to stop playing football?” You questioned again. Although you felt like you already knew the answer you felt like you needed to ask again just to be sure. Just to get him to say it himself. For a moment your son thought about it before answering.

“Yeah. I have thought about it for a while,” Your son said sounding the surest that he has throughout this whole conversation. Him sounding like that did reassure you though because he sounded so certain and you knew that he was making the correct decision for how he is right now. Obviously there is a possibility that he will regret it in the future but this was the right decision for now and it would probably be in a few years team that he will actually regret it if ever.

“Okay, we’ll let your coach know,” You told him making a mental note to call the coach tomorrow to inform him that your son was no longer returning to the team and that you wish them the best for the rest of the season. Best leave them on good terms just in case your son ever wants to return however if he ever wants to go back to football you’re certain you would go to a different team. Still best to leave on good terms just in case because you never know who’ll you’ll need or what will happen in the future.

“What do you want to do then?” Christian then asked like he did at the very start of the conversation.

“I don’t know,” Your son solemnly said like he was generally disappointed that he didn’t know what he wanted to do.

“That’s alright we’ll figure it out together,” Christian told him and he was being truthful. The three of you would work out together and find something that he enjoys and wants to invest time in and if not then you’ll have fun allowing him to try different activities. It’s his life and you and Chrostian are only here to guide and help when need be.

MASTERLIST | MORE PULISIC

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leilakisakabiri · 9 months

Note

Can I request something with Gavi being barely even home resulting to reader feeling lonely and empty? A fluffy ending please! Gracias a todos!

You're Losing Me (Gavi)

Summary: You and Gavi's relationship is slowly falling apart - and neither of you know how to save it.

Warnings: Angst. Toxic behavior.

A/N: This request literally revived me so thank you. I’m so excited to write angst hopefully you like it! Also thank you guys for 1k notes on Surprise, here’s my gift to you. Please send requests!

Word count: 6.8k+

Masterlist

It was the fourth Tuesday in a row that you ate alone in your apartment. The fourth time Gavi had skipped out on your plans last minute, sending a quick half-hearted text about one event or the other.

The first time it was because Coach had asked Gavi to stay after practice, keen on teaching him the perfect one-touch shot. Then it was a missed dinner because Jordi Alba had invited him out with some other players, and he just couldn’t say no, because he was finally starting to feel like a part of the family - like the older players had finally started to respect him.

Of course you hadn’t minded the first few times, he had been apologetic enough, promising you that he would be there next time, but each next time took on the next week, and soon the prospect of next time didn’t hold as much meaning anymore. You were accustomed to reading those words by now, and you rarely took time to read over the dwindling text messages anymore, eyes only scanning for those two words, the ones that had become a staple in your relationship.

Next time.

Next time you would cook dinner for him and he would be there to eat it. Next time he would tell you he loved you in person, rather than getting an impassive ‘sorry cariño’. The thought of next time, which once seemed like a lifeline to you, had become a dull reminder of the boy who was just on the other side of the city, only a measly train ride separating you both. Yet the distance seemed much greater.

But now the football season was drawing to a close, and instead of being excited at the notion of having more time to spend together, you felt uneasy and on edge, almost as if you were waiting for the other shoe to drop, something to come up, making the distance between the two of you that much more tangible.

You felt your phone buzz next to you and your eyes unintentionally went to the clock.

9:45 pm.

The texts were getting later and later each time.

You already knew what awaited you, but you couldn’t help but scan the message regardless.

“Can’t come tonight, only have a few days till the season ends and the guys wanna make the most of it. Be there next time. Noche.”

There it was again, that unexplainable feeling in your chest, like your heart was always one step ahead of your brain, preparing for the loss of something that hadn’t yet left. Your mind was an incomprehensible mess, a jumble of contrasting thoughts and memories, forcing you to overthink situations and undervalue your emotions.

You lifted your head watching your roommate land with a thump on the couch beside you, “He canceled again, didn’t he?”

You opened your mouth, an excuse on the tip of your tongue.

She held up her hand, “Don’t try to defend him. He knows it isn’t fair.”

You avoided her gaze, “You don’t get it. He’s really in demand and-”

“It doesn’t matter that he’s famous or a professional athlete, that doesn’t discredit his actions, or put the blame on anyone but him.”

She continued, “Look Gavi’s a good guy, I like him,” you stared at her, “I do! But he’s stupid if he doesn’t realize that he’s losing you. I know you, and while you might make excuses for him now, I know that sooner or later you’re going to notice that he hasn’t been treating you like you deserve, and you’ll be smart enough to leave.”

You felt the impact of her words full force, like a sledgehammer beating into your body. All the signs were there, right in front of your face, and you had been turning a blind eye, not wanting to admit what your heart already knew.

You knew it. The distance you had felt hadn’t been in vain – every day you could feel the connection between the two of you chip away, so small, you wouldn’t think to notice it till you stood back and looked at the bigger picture.

As a result of both your busy schedules, you both had come up with the idea of having Tuesday night, the most boring day of the week as agreed on, reserved for just the two of you. On Tuesday you didn’t have classes that ran well past dinner time or have to pick up late-night shifts at the restaurant, and he didn’t have evening practice. It was perfect. Tuesday was yours.

Except it had been four weeks since you’d had a proper conversation with Gavi, and you couldn’t help but see the difference in your relationship when you first got together, both eager and determined to spend as much time together as possible, to now, where even if you attended his games, you two still managed to get away without speaking.

You shook your head, “I-I need to take a walk.”

She reached over placing a hand on your shoulder, “Y/n. I’m sorry-”

You shook it off, standing up, “No it’s ok, it’s not your fault. I just need to clear my head.”

You felt the cool night breeze hit you as you walked the streets of Barcelona. It was unusually quiet in this part of town, the lights from the main strip didn’t reach this far out, and for a moment the quiet reminded you of your hometown.

If you closed your eyes, it was almost like you were fifteen again, back in your childhood bedroom, before the ideas of pretty boys with big brown eyes and the weight of managing both university and a job plagued all your thoughts.

You reached a lookout point, the top of the hill dropping to show you the expansive city below. You stared out, the buildings looked so small up here, barely more than a glowing dot in the dark, the cars a blur of soft yellow. You wondered which tiny dot Gavi was in. You wondered if he had checked his phone, seeing that you hadn’t texted him back like you usually did. You wondered if he even cared.

You shook your head trying to get rid of the unwanted thoughts.

Your relationship with Gavi was good. He made you laugh like nobody else, whispering secrets in each other’s ears like schoolchildren, making forts out of old sheets in his childhood bedroom when you met his family for the first time. You remembered his sweet smile, the way his eyes would crinkle unintentionally when he couldn’t hold back his excitement or happiness. You remembered confiding in him about school, how you were so stressed because you couldn’t manage eighteen credits while simultaneously holding a job that required you to be on your feet for hours at a time. You could still feel the soft caress of his hand, as he squeezed yours, providing you comfort, cracking a badly executed joke here and there just to get you to smile while listing a hundred reasons why if anyone could do it, it would be you.

So, if he made you feel all those things, why did his absence make you feel so tiny, so insignificant?

Your finger hovered over the call button, and you hit it hesitantly.

You just wanted to hear his voice.

That would be enough.

It rang seven times before the line went dead.

It took you a moment to realize you hadn’t put your phone up to your ear, waiting with bated breath for the timer on the screen to start, indicating he had picked up, but it never did.

You stuffed your phone back into your pocket, the same unsteady feeling in your heart strumming.

Once.

Twice.

Then it was gone.

You came home to a quiet apartment and your roommate already asleep.

You shuffled into your room silently, you would give it one more week you decided. Next time would be the last.

The next week came, and while it was the first week Gavi had off from training, he had already planned to go to Ibiza to attend a music festival with his hometown friends. He had invited you, but it was more of an afterthought, and you couldn’t find it in yourself to go because of rushed ‘you can come if you want’ and a barely there apology so you left it.

You got an ‘I’ll miss you’ text from him and for a moment it made you smile, filling you with warmth. However, an ‘I miss you’ only did so much, and other than his sweet messages, there was really no intent behind his words.

Now it had been two days since Gavi had gotten back from his Ibiza trip, and you couldn’t hide the surprise on your face when you glanced over and saw a Facetime call from Gavi.

When was the last time the two of you had Facetimed? Maybe two months ago? It was much easier to send a text, the times both of you were free were few and far between.

You answered the call, pushing your textbook to the side. The dark grey interior of Gavi’s car greeted you.

“Hello?” You asked.

“Hey, Y/n long time no talk.” Gavi joked, but you felt your stomach flip at the truth behind his words.

“I can’t see you.” You said.

“Oh shit, did I accidentally Facetime? My bad I told Siri to call and she must have Facetimed instead. Let me call you.”

You went to speak but heard the three beeps indicating the call had been cut.

You heard the phone ring again and bit back a sigh. You just wanted to see his face.

You answered on the second ring.

“Hey sorry about that. I wanted to call and tell you that I’m back from Ibiza.”

“Yeah, I know.” You admitted, “I remembered.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Well, anyways I wanted to ask you to come with me to the Spanish football gala tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

You heard some shuffling and suddenly Gavi’s voice was much clearer and closer to the phone. You assumed he took it off speaker.

“Can you not come?”

You hesitated, “Uhm I’m not sure. It’s so last minute and I’m already scheduled at the restaurant tomorrow.”

“Can’t you just take off?” He persisted.

You felt your brow furrow, “I’m already on the schedule, I can’t just decide to take off the day before, I need to find someone to replace me.”

“Ok, tell whoever that I’ll sign a jersey for them if they do.”

You suddenly felt angry. Why did he think that you could only get a day off work if he helped you out? Were you not capable of handling your own situations? You hated feeling like this, like you weren’t even your own person, just a shadow of who you were with.

“No that’s fine. I’ll just take off like you said, simple.” You couldn’t help but let the bitterness seep into your voice.

He went to say something, probably sensing the shift in your mood, but you cut him off, “I have to go. Bye Gavi.”

You hung up before he could respond.

Finding someone to replace your shift was easier said than done, but after some back and forth, and a promise to Marcus to cover his next two shifts, you were free.

Free to prance around in a hall filled with people you barely knew, with a boy who you thought about more in your memories than you saw in real life.

The night of the gala arrived, and you were decked out, wearing the earrings Gavi had gifted you for your one-year anniversary paired with a necklace you had received after graduating high school.

Gavi had originally said he would pick you up but had sent a quick text earlier in the morning explaining that the team was getting ready together at a hotel, and to just meet him at the venue.

Your roommate had agreed to drive you and you gave her a grateful smile as you got in the car.

“Ana thank you for taking me.”

She brushed the comment off playfully, “No problem. Gotta step up when Gavi steps down.”

You let out a short laugh, “My hero.”

You got to the venue a couple of minutes before you had planned to meet Gavi and nervously walked around, staying out of the path of cameras.

You found someone to take you to a tent where some Barca staff were waiting for the players to start the program.

You walked in, a surprised look taking over your face once you noticed Pedri and a few other players in the corner.

You weren’t aware that some of the players from the hotel had arrived yet.

Pedri noticed your entrance and came over to say hello.

You gave him a quick hug, making casual small talk.

Just ask him, a voice in the back of your head urged.

Finally, you bit the bullet, attempting to sound as casual as possible, “How did you guys get here so early? I thought everyone was leaving the hotel at 6.”

“Ehh, it wasn’t that important, so I skipped it. Half the guys didn’t go anyway, and the other half just went to play FIFA. Besides I beat them every time, so it gets a little boring after a while.”

You tried to laugh at his joke, but could only manage a watery smile, mind running a mile a minute.

So Gavi hadn’t actually needed to go but chose to.

Leaving you alone.

Again.

It wasn’t a big deal by itself. But it was the fact that this was just another item you could add to your ever-growing list of things Gavi cared about more than you. You wondered briefly if you had been wrong, and if he had missed some other event to be there with you, only to remind yourself that you hadn’t seen him in a month, so no, he hadn’t.

You were still grappling with your emotions when Gavi arrived, unsure whether to confront him or just let this be another thing you swept under the rug.

Your reunion, if you could even call it that, was lackluster at best. He had walked in with some of his teammates, immediately going to greet the rest of his team, completely ignoring you standing on the right side of the room with Pedri.

It was only once he asked where Pedri was that someone pointed the two of you out.

You felt your body deflate; he hadn’t even asked for you.

Were you overthinking things again? Maybe he had just forgotten in the excitement of seeing his whole team for the first time after the season ended?

Gavi made his way over to the two of you, reaching out to Pedri first. You watched as they exchanged a hug before Gavi’s eyes floated over to yours.

“Hey.” His voice was casual, like he was greeting a mailman, or thanking the cashier.

“Hi.”

You closed the space, attempting to hug him, but he grabbed your shoulders stopping you, looking down.

You followed his gaze.

“I don’t want to wrinkle the dress.”

You felt your heart thud against your chest, and while you knew he only had good intentions, the rejection still stung.

You stepped out of his embrace, watching his hands drop to his sides, “Okay.”

The carpet went by in a blur, you posed with Gavi for a few photos before moving to the side and letting him enjoy the spotlight, he had worked hard for it. You took a couple of photos with some of the other teammate's girlfriends and wives before you headed inside.

Once inside, there was still some time left before the actual dinner portion of the gala started. The gala was held for all Spanish football clubs as a celebration of their hard work during the season. It was also a great event to network, giving players the ability to talk with different coaches and directors they otherwise might not have gotten the chance to, allowing for discussions of thinly veiled preseason transfers to commence without the fear of unwanted ears listening in.

You found Gavi in the crowd quickly, linking your arm with his. He looked over at you, a smile taking over his features once he noticed you.

“Glad you found me.”

You noticed with great relief that his eyes still crinkled in the corners when he looked at you,

“I always do.”

The next however many minutes spent till dinner service started comprised of Gavi talking with various different players and directors as you stood like a shiny accessory off his arm, too insignificant to be acknowledged in conversation.

The call for dinner provided you solace from the repetitive conversations and mundane questions. You took a seat next to Gavi and were confused to find both Joao Felix and Antoine Griezmann seated at your table.

You leaned into Gavi, “I thought the clubs sat together?”

“Me too. I think they’re doing alphabetical tonight though.” He whispered.

“Which one’s your least favorite?” You looked up shocked at Gavi’s question, watching a boyish grin take over his features as he tried to hide his laugh, interlacing your fingers on your lap.

You shoved into him lightly, “They’re sitting right there!”

He leaned in closer, nose softly grazing your ear as he spoke, “Yeah but between me and you, I think Joao could have had a better season in Chelsea.”

You shook your head in disbelief, fighting back the smile that was threatening to spill out. Your eyes caught his and for a second it seemed like you had been transported back in time, back to when these types of moments were the standard not the exception, back when it felt like you were on each other sides, back when laughter was the antidote instead of tense silences filled with awkward hello’s.

His eyebrow lifted ask if to ask if you agreed with him, and a small murmur of agreement from you was all he needed before he opened his mouth, ready to hammer his point home, but his attention switched last second.

It was like you could visibly see the shift in his demeanor. First, it was his eyes glancing past yours, seeing the midfielder approaching. Then it was the subtle grip on your hand loosening, his fingers slipping through the gaps. Next, it was the complete shift in body, his posture straightening as he leaned his body away from yours, position shifting to face Pedri who had sat in the spot next to him.

To his credit, Pedri acknowledged the both of you but it was clear Gavi paid no mind to you, not evening sparing you a glance as he became immersed in a conversation with Pedri.

You tried to pretend it didn’t affect you and while you could lie to everyone else, you couldn’t lie to yourself. You had built up this evening up so much in your head, telling yourself that tonight would be the shifting point in your relationship and that everything would go back to the way it once was, but it was shaping up to be another Tuesday you had become all too familiar with.

Why did it feel like you were always competing for his attention?

Your mind was reeling, all the small actions Gavi did that you kept pushing aside, were floating back to the surface, each little remark or dismissal a little tug on your heartstrings till you were sure that if you stayed at the table a for a moment longer you wouldn’t be able to stop the onslaught of tears quickly approaching.

You stood from the table abruptly, catching a few people’s attention, but you gave them a polite smile, or at least you hoped it had been polite, you couldn’t focus on anything but the stinging in your eyes and the sinking feeling in your stomach.

You swiftly walked towards the restroom, glancing over your shoulder to see if anyone had noticed but your eyes fell on Gavi’s form. He hadn’t even bothered turning around.

Of course, he hadn’t.

Somehow that hurt more than anything else.

You were immensely grateful for the single-use restroom as you locked yourself in, shaky hands coming to steady yourself on the sink.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

You were internally screaming at yourself, begging yourself to keep yourself together but the feeling was too overwhelming and before you could stop you felt the first tears slip down. Your shoulders shook as you forced yourself to be silent, embarrassed about someone walking by and overhearing you pitying yourself.

One hand covered your mouth as you muffled your sobs, while the other dug into the stupid marble sink until the skin was pink and indented. The pain acted as a distraction from the unbearable pressure in your chest, and you instinctively pushed your hand harder into the sink.

Your fingers felt numb as you slowly removed them, closing your eyes to steady yourself. It was obvious that you weren’t in the best mental state, but you couldn’t exactly sit in the bathroom for the next hour to sort it out. You had to clean yourself up and go back to pretending.

Yes, pretending, you realized, was exactly what you had been doing. This whole night you had been pretending, pretending everything was okay, pretending that your relationship was fine when in truth you couldn’t even remember what Gavi’s laugh sounded like.

When had it become all pretend?

Was there anything left here? Were your best years behind you both?

These unanswered questions haunted you as you calmed yourself down, wrapping around you like a blanket, one that provided you no comfort but rather a feeling of suffocation.

Finally, your eyes had dried, and the redness had faded significantly. You had gotten your breathing under control, and you felt a little lighter having stopped denying what had been plaguing your mind for weeks now.

You took one final glance in the mirror, smoothing out your dress as you exited the restroom.

You walked slowly back to the table. You had decided that if you could just get through tonight, go home, and cry and think some more, then by tomorrow morning you would be able to talk to Gavi and decide what to do.

But that plan had flown out the window when you arrived back at the table to a confused Gavi.

It seemed he had finally noticed your absence.

“Where did you go? They served dinner 15 minutes ago.”

“I had to use the restroom.”

“For 15 minutes?”

“There was a queue.” You lied.

He seemed to accept your answer and you chose to focus on your food rather than him.

You were halfway through your meal when you noticed Gavi giving you a double take from the corner of your eye.

“Your eyes are red.” He spoke in a hushed voice.

“I don’t know why.”

“Are you sure?” His attention was beginning to slip again, eyes darting back between you and Pedri.

“Yes, I’m fine.” You heard your voice waver on the last syllable, a tick you had when you were lying, and Gavi immediately picked up on it, facing you fully.

“What’s wrong?”

You shook your head not wanting to get into everything here.

“I’m ok.”

“You’re not.”

“Gavi.” You warned.

“What happened? Did someone say something?”

“No. Just drop it please.” Your voice had gone soft, tired of defending yourself.

“Y/n just tell me, I’ll help.” He urged.

You stayed quiet.

“What’s wrong?” He asked again, adamant to get an answer.

You felt yourself grow annoyed, why couldn’t he just let it go? Why was he suddenly interested in how you felt? You were just trying to protect what little left the two of you had and he seemed intent on destroying it.

“It’s you.”

He looked taken aback, eyes pooling with hurt and confusion, his body slightly deflating, “W-what?”

The moment was interrupted when the announcer took over the stage, beginning the presentation for the night, highlighting a few key players and matches.

You looked away first, turning to face the stage, clapping along, acting as though you couldn’t feel Gavi’s gaze burning into your back as he desperately tried to get your attention.

Once the presentation was over you were quick to excuse yourself, using the pretense of going to get a drink as a getaway.

You held your breath as you walked, praying Gavi wouldn’t follow you, and while he got up immediately once he noticed, he was quickly interrupted by another player coming to congratulate him, allowing you to slip away while he watched helplessly.

You let out a huff, leaning against the bar trying to slow your heartbeat.

“Long day?”

You looked over to see Joao standing next to you, watching as the bartender poured his drink.

“Something like that.”

He nodded, “Me too. Been a long couple of days actually.”

You smiled, “Actually, it’s been a long couple of weeks.”

He turned his head to look at you, “I take it back. It’s actually been a long couple of months.”

You raised your hand in mock surrender, “Ok I can’t beat that.”

He grinned, “Yeah not many people can.”

Your expression matched his own, and you gave your order to the bartender before turning to face him again, “So how’s the season been?”

“Shit. Honestly, I’m not even sure why I’m here I played for Chelsea this season not Athletico.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his abruptness.

“Yeah, I saw your first game. A red card first match is pretty brutal.”

His grin only widened, “Oh keeping tabs are we?”

You gave him a playful glare, “Of course gotta know how Barca’s competition is doing.”

“Oh, so you’re a Barca girl?”

“Since the day I was born.” You revealed proudly.

And it was true, even before you had met Gavi, you had loved Barcelona. Growing up in a family of football lovers, your family had declared FC Barcelona as their home club, and you had witnessed so many legends play for Barcelona and so many underdogs find their true passion at the club.

“Can I tell you a secret?” he asked, and you gave him a nod of encouragement, pretending to zip your lips shut making him smile, “Ok well it’s always been my dream to play for Barcelona. Messi was always an idol to me.” He confessed.

Your mouth dropped open in shock before you abruptly shut it, your eyes almost widening comically as you spoke excitedly, “What oh my gosh. I’m in shock. Messi? But you play with Ronaldo!” You gasped.

He laughed at your facial expression, as he whispered, “I know! That’s why it’s a secret.”

You nodded along with his words, sending him a duh expression, “Of course, I won’t say anything I promise.”

“Promise what?”

Gavi had appeared by your side, a firm hand set on your waist, as he gently tugged you back into his body.

You peeked up at Gavi to see he was already looking down at you, jaw set. You gulped.

“Nothing much, just talking about the season.” You replied.

You saw Gavi’s eyes flicker between the two of you before he brought you closer, “Can we please talk?”

You bit your lip unsure but nodded.

He slipped his hand into yours as he led you to a quieter area. You waved goodbye to Joao as Gavi pulled you through the crowd, and he held his drink up in response.

He was a nice guy. You hoped next season would be better for him than the last.

He guided you to a standing table and propped your hands on the table as he played with the ring on your index finger.

“This a really pretty ring, is it new?” He asked eyes focused on your fingers.

“No, I got it last month.”

“I haven’t seen you wear it.”

“I’ve worn it every day since I got it.”

“Oh.”

You gently removed your hand from his, knowing that talking circles about something so small was going to get you nowhere.

“What do you want Gavi?” You asked quietly.

His voice came out gravelly, “I want to know how I let it get to the point where you feel more comfortable calling me Gavi rather than Pablo.”

His words when straight to your heart, and you could feel his pain almost as much as you could feel your own.

“I-I don’t know.”

You heard his breath falter, “I miss you calling me Pablo. Hell – I even miss you calling me Pablito. I’d take anything over whatever this is.” He gestured pointing between the two of you.

“Ok then let’s talk about it. Let’s talk about where it went wrong.”

His eyes lifted at your words, “Why are you speaking in the past tense?”

You remained silent.

“Amor please, why are you speaking in past tense?” You could hear the panic building in his voice.

“I think we don’t spend enough time together.”

“Ok we can fix that. No problem.” He agreed, desperate to save what was slowly unraveling.

“But do you want to? Fix it I mean?”

“Of course, I do. Please just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.” His voice was almost near begging, and you knew without a doubt that you were in a similar state.

You couldn’t believe that this was happening here, in front of all these people, but it wasn’t fair to either of you to hold it any longer. You had to have this conversation sooner or later and it seemed like tonight was the time for it.

“Sometimes I feel like you don’t have time for me.” You finally admitted what you had been feeling for the last month.

He shook his head rapidly, “I do! But I mean we both have such busy schedules, you have even less time than I do with school.” he argued, “You also have work so that cuts down on the time we have too, but I’m not complaining.”

You were trembling with anger as you spoke, but you kept your voice low, “Yes, because I have to work a job to be able to afford college. I hate the hours probably more than you do, but I do it because I have to. I don’t have an option. I want to go to school? I have to fund it. But you? You didn’t have to go out with the guys after practice or stay around Ansu’s to play FIFA, but you did. That was a choice you made.”

He opened his mouth to retaliate but you weren’t done, “And I’m not even mad about that. I’m mad that for the last month, you’ve put me below every other person in your life, treated me like I’m dispensable, someone who you only consider when you need something. I feel cheap. Like something you only want when it’s convenient to you.”

“That’s not true. You’re my girlfriend!” His voice shook as he spoke, and you realized he was probably just as scared as you were.

“Then why do I feel like I’m not?” Your voice came out soft, barely above a whisper, but it felt like delivering the final blow to an already sinking battleship.

You felt his eyes on you, eyes glazing over as hundreds of unushered words filled the space between you, but the moment was cut short, and you had to remind yourself that you were in public as Xavi approached the two of you.

You gave Xavi a quick hug before he congratulated Gavi on a great season.

Gavi only nodded, murmuring short responses, eyes glancing at you every few seconds like he was scared you would disappear from his life if he wasn’t watching.

He left after a moment, and then the two of you were alone again.

“I’m sorry Y/n, I had no idea that’s why you were working. I would’ve given you the money if you just said something-“

“I don’t want your money Gavi! It’s yours, not mine.” You said exasperated.

“C’mon Y/n you know I have enough to provide for the both of us. You don’t have to work-“

“I don’t want that! In fact, right now I don’t even want to be in this relationship!”

The boy physically shrunk back at your words, your admission sending him into silence as he processed your words.

Finally, he spoke, head shaking in denial, not wanting to admit what was right in front of him, “I-I don’t understand.”

You wanted to yell at him to notice all the signs you’d been sending him, beg him to understand the things you couldn’t say but had always been lurking in the shadows, easy enough to make out if you just paid attention. You wanted to scream that it wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair that Gavi got to pursue his passion while you were being told to give up yours. Your head was filled with millions of things you wanted to say to him, thousands of little moments you wanted to share with him, you wanted to confide in him about how scared you were, how you had never felt like this in your life, how the thought of him slowly falling out of love with you was ripping your insides apart, making you sick to your stomach. There were so many things but not one left your mouth.

“I know you don’t.” Your voice sounded tired, even to your own ears, and you wondered if this was it. If this is where the two of you parted ways.

“I-I’m just going to go home.”

“I’ll grab our coats.”

You placed your hand gently on his, giving him a sad smile, “It’s ok. I think I’ll go alone.”

Neither of you could deny what it meant.

He ducked his head so you couldn’t see his red eyes. There was a moment of silence, and you could tell he was fighting with himself, trying to figure out what to do to stop the inevitable, until he slowly nodded,

“Ok.”

He had just sealed your relationship closed, something you were grateful for because you knew you couldn’t have done it yourself.

He didn’t lift his head as you walked away, and you didn’t blame him.

You grabbed your coat quickly, bidding goodbye to a few people as you made your way out of the hall.

As you walked down the hallway towards the main doors you realized you didn’t have a ride back. Your roommate had dropped you off and you assumed Gavi would drop you back. Well, that wasn’t happening now. Train it was. One glance out the window told you it was raining, downpouring to be exact.

How fitting. At least the weather matched your mood.

You stepped outside, immediately becoming drenched, but somehow you found comfort in it, at least this way no one could see you cry.

You were about halfway down the steps when you heard the door slam open, yelling coming from behind you.

You spun around, surprised to see Gavi stepping into the rain, “Please stay. Please.”

You stood frozen, unsure of what to say.

You were sure he wouldn’t follow you. But he had.

He kept taking steps closer to you, closing the distance, till you were only two steps apart, “Stay.”

His eyes searched your own, looking for something, maybe a sign that there was hope, something you weren’t sure you could provide.

“Just let me go. We can talk about this tomorrow.”

He shook his head, breath unsteady, “No I can’t. I can’t. I feel like if I let you go now, I’ll never see you again.”

You bit your cheek looking away, he was right. After tonight you had no intention of talking to him again.

His shoulders drooped at your silence, and he sat down on the steps of the building, harsh rain pounding down on him, matting his hair and drenching his extremely expensive suit, but he didn’t seem to care, “I hate fighting with you.”

You glanced down at his figure, watching him sit in the rain with his head in his hands, utterly defenseless.

“But I hate even more that it’s my fault, and that I couldn’t see what I was doing until I felt what you did, just for a second, and it hurt like hell.”

“I should have been there for you. I should have made time for you. I knew what I was doing wasn’t right but then I kept thinking it’s fine I’ll make it up to her next time, but next time never happened because I never showed up. I guess I was just so focused on making sure my teammates all liked me, and they had just stopped treating me like a kid, finally inviting me places - and I’m not using that as an excuse because I know it’s a shit one, it’s on me. Nobody forced me to do anything, I just wanted to feel included, and I put everyone else’s feelings above yours when yours was the one that was the most important to me.”

He finally lifted his head, and he was close enough that you could see the tears streaming down his face as he looked intently at you, almost like he was trying to memorize you, “If you want to walk away you can, you should - I’ll understand. I just wanted to apologize, really apologize, and own up to everything I did. I love you, and I promise you I won’t take anyone for granted the way I did with you.”

Your expression mirrored his own, and the tears were falling freely at his confession now that it was just the two of you. All the things you had wanted him to realize he had. All the things you wished he had said, he finally did.

But was it too late?

“Thank you, Pablo.”

He let out a short laugh through his tears, “No, thank you.”

You gave him a soft smile before you put distance between the two of you, letting the rain mask the sound of you leaving.

The lights from the venue grew dimmer as you continued walking, and you spared one last glance over your shoulder before it disappeared from view, seeing Gavi’s tiny figure rooted in place, watching you leave.

Your steps faltered.

How could you leave this relationship, this boy, when every single warning sign was going off in your brain, telling you to turn around and fight, to not give up? He had understood, he had understood exactly what you had felt, and had owned up to his mistakes, what else could he have done? He couldn’t go back and make it better, but he could change the way he treated you, but how would you acknowledge the change if you didn’t stick around?

It didn’t feel right walking away.

You thought you would feel content, feel like the pressure was lifting from your shoulders, but the dropping feeling in your stomach was multiplying, and your heart was constricting painfully at the thought of never seeing him, never laughing with him, never kissing him again, at the idea of falling in love with someone that wasn’t him.

You never ran faster in your life.

Let him be there. Please let him be there.

You didn’t know how you could explain yourself if you had to walk back into the event sopping wet, eyes puffy, and nose runny.

You couldn’t stop the wide smile that stretched across your face as he realized he was right where you left him.

You sat next to him and he didn’t notice until you spoke.

“Pablo.”

His head shot upon hearing your voice, and his face lifted for a second before falling again, “Di-Did you forget something?”

You nodded.

“Ok I can get it for you, what is it?” He cleared his throat, trying to make his voice clear.

You shifted closer to him, bodies pressed against each other, “I forgot that I love you. I love you and I want to work this out. I’m happy that you took responsibility and I believe you. I believe that you won’t do it again. But I should apologize too – I also wasn’t fair to you, and I did things that I shouldn’t have just to get back at you for making me feel so small.”

“I’m sorr-”

You cut him off, “Let’s stop apologizing.”

He nodded, eyes looking at you with nothing but love and admiration,

“Ok but we’ll have to work on our communication.” He said, and you hummed in agreement.

You touched your forehead with his, staring at each other with baited breaths until he finally closed the distance and kissed you. After a month of not seeing each other, you were finally kissing, pouring all your emotions, all your love, all your pain into the kiss, making a promise to be there for each other, and it felt like coming home.

alternate ending

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helen-with-an-a · 1 month

Text

I am an adult

Hi. So, this is an idea that I've been working on. I hope you enjoy it. <3

Barca Femeni x Reader

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 3.5 : Part 4

TW: none

Word Count: 3.4k

Description: R is tired of being treated like a child

Being the youngest in the club by quite some years when you first join the club is hard. You were 15 when you put pen to paper, debuting for your national team at 16. You automatically inherited about 40 big sisters at club and country, with all their wisdom, love, and overprotectiveness. It was adorable … at first. You couldn’t fault them for their heart. You knew they meant well. But you were ready to strangle them by the time you turned 18. You had been given offers from all over the world as your contract ended. It was a difficult choice to leave your team; most of them you considered family. But it wasn’t a difficult choice to sign for Barcelona.

You had hoped that as you left your home and started a new chapter in life, you could prove that you weren’t a child anymore. But it quickly became apparent that that wasn’t the case. Alexia hovered, Lucy fussed, Marta fretted, and Irene worried. You had originally moved in with Alexia, which was lovely initially. She helped you organise the parts of your life that were new to you – organising your weekly shopping list, helping manage your finances, and coordinating your schedules. But as the years went by, you think she forgot that you were no longer the barely legal adult who needed help with many things. You think they all forgot.

The first incident that made you slightly pissed off was in the changing rooms. The music was loud, and you were too busy grinding on Pina to notice the looks from Lucy and Marta. You were celebrating another spectacular win, you scoring a hat trick and Patri and Salma scoring braces. You had taken your sweaty shirt off and swung it around your head as you turned to press yourself against Bruna, all 3 of you laughing as you ran your hands down your body, shaking your hips sensually. As the song ended, you were all in fits of laughter, clutching your stomachs and breathing hard.

“Where did you learn to dance like that?” Ona asked, her arms wrapping around your waist as you slung an arm around her shoulders.

“Oh, shut up. You’ve seen me dance plenty of times,” You joked as you kissed her forehead.

“You’ve been out dancing?” Lucy asked. She didn’t like the sound of that. You were too young to go out.

“Yeh, we went out a few weeks ago,” Ona told her.

“Who is we?” Alexia frowned.

“Um … me, Ona, Patri, Pina, Jana, Bruna, Esmee, Aitana,” you rattled off their names, counting them on your fingers as you went. Basically, it was all the young ones who could legally drink. It had been an entertaining night. No one was telling you to calm it down. No one breathed down your neck as you chatted to random strangers. No one was hovering. It was fantastic. You had spent most of the next day with your head over the toilet and feeling very sorry for yourself. But it was worth it. You wouldn’t let them dampen your spirits over that night. Lucy was frowning hard; Alexia also gave an angry glare. “What?” You asked, confused about why you were having disapproving scowls sent your way.

“You’re too young,” Lucy said as she turned away. You huffed, muttering under your breath as you headed to the showers. You were starting to get irritated with their behaviour.

The second time they made you angry was when you stumbled home from a night-in with Pina and Patri. You had chatted away the evening over good food and wine. It was a lovely night, bringing you even closer to the pair of best friends. What you hadn’t been aware of, however, was Lucy and Alexia, and Marta, and Caro, and Paños, and Irene. They all blew up your phone, asking where you were and what you were doing. Alexia had asked Lucy to come over as she noticed you looked a little less like yourself. You were acting short with her, not really acknowledging her when she gave her (unwanted) input on what you were doing and with whom you were doing it. She had hoped that Lucy could help you navigate what was going on. As Alexia opened your bedroom door, without knocking – once again – she was met with a slightly messy but very empty room with a pile of clothes on the floor near the hamper. She must tell you that you need to do your washing.

“Lucy,” Alexia had called out in a panic. You weren’t anywhere else in the house. She didn’t know where you were. She had promised your parents all those years ago that she would look after you. “She’s gone. She’s not here. She’s missing. Should we phone the police?” She grew more and more desperate with every passing moment.

“Right. Calm down, alright? She couldn’t have gone far. She can’t drive,” she was wrong – you could drive; you even had your own car, but the older team members refused to let you go anywhere without them or let you behind the wheel if they were in the car. “Let’s check her location, yeh?” You had asked her repeatedly to delete the app from her phone. She had ignored your wishes, telling you that due to your age, someone should always know your whereabouts. “See, she’s at Patri’s. She’s fine.” The pair took calming breaths together. As the hours ticked by and it seemed like you were making no appearance any time soon, more people were called to come and wait for you. First, it was Marta and Caro and then Paños after another hour and finally Irene after another 2. It was 3 am when you stumbled into the house, slightly wine-drunk but more or less sober.

“What time do you call this?” Alexia’s voice called out from the shadows. It was angry; you didn’t need to see her face to know that her signature glare was etched on it.

“Oh, I didn’t think you’d be awake,” you commented, moving into the kitchen and flicking the lights on as you went. You jumped slightly as you were faced with four other women, all of whom were in similar states of anger and disapproval. "Jesus Christ. What did you do? Throw a party or something?”

“A search party more like. You snuck out.” Irene commented, folding her arms over her chest and giving you her best Mum look.

“Is it really sneaking out if I leave through the front door?” you countered, filling a glass with water and looking in the medicine box under the sink. “Do we have any paracetamol?” you asked absentmindedly, not quite realising just how angry the group was.

“Why do you need paracetamol, kid?” Lucy asked, knowing the answer already but not wanting the confirmation.

“Oh, I had a few drinks with Patri and Pina. Wanna have them in my room with some water for tomorrow if I need them,” you said, letting out a small ‘aha’ when you found the medicine you were looking for.

“You’ve been drinking?” Marta screeched.

“Yeh?” You drew out the word, slightly too tipsy for this conversation.

“What? That’s it, you’re grounded. For-” Alexia stormed forwards.

“You can’t ground me, Alexia,” you said incredulously, standing up and facing her. You may be younger, but you were slightly taller than her. “I’m not a child.”

“How da-” she started, raising her voice at you. You held up a hand, cutting her off. You were mightily fed up with her behaviour as of late. You clicked your teeth.

“I’m going to bed.” You sighed, pushing past the group standing in the hallway and stomping up the stairs.

“Don’t you dare slam your-” She shouted but was cut off by a harsh slam.

By the third time, you were ready to scream. Or commit murder. You weren’t too fussed – whichever got them to stop. After the night with Patri and Pina, Alexia tried to ban you from doing anything outside of training. You had raised one eyebrow at her and walked straight out the door. She was shocked, to say the least. Where was this attitude coming from? She had been nothing but nice to you, helping you out when she thought you needed it and offering advice when you looked a little stressed. She had had enough of your door slamming and locking the door. So, she did the only thing she could think of. You walked back into the house with Ona by your side, chatting away about the coffee shop you wanted to try. You could hear the faint whirring of power tools coming from upstairs. It was a known fact that Alexia hated building flat-pack furniture, so you went to investigate – beckoning for Ona to follow, thinking it would be funny to see the disaster that Alexia was making. The sight that met you had you screaming and shouting. Alexia was taking your bedroom door off its hinges.

“What the fuck?” You shouted, anger your dominant emotion.

“Language!” She said calmly as she finished with the final nail.

“Seriously, what the actual fuck, Alexia? You’re taking my door off?”

“Sí. You kept slamming it. I told you not to slam the door. And it’s not your door. It’s mine. I own the house.”

“In that case, when do you want me to move out? Can I have a few hours to pack?” She scoffed, thinking you were bluffing. You were most certainly not bluffing. You looked over to Ona, standing at the top of the stairs, slightly embarrassed at witnessing the clearly private situation.

“You are too young to move out, cariño. Once you learn to respect those who are trying to help you, I’ll put the door back on,” she said simply, pushing the door onto its side and moving past you. “Hi, Ona,” she said sweetly.

You immediately gathered up a suitcase full of clothes and forced Ona to take you to her place. Spending time in an environment where you weren’t treated as a child only grew your resentment towards others. You loved being treated as the adult that you were. You spent a few nights with Ona before moving to Patri’s and Pina’s. You had ignored all the older girls' efforts to talk to you. They still muttered and moaned about how you weren’t old enough and that they were only trying to help, to do what was best for you. Eventually, you decided you needed your own place – sleeping on couches and pull-out beds was not good for your body.

“Um, I just wanted to let you know I’m moving out. Officially.” You approached Alexia one morning in the gym. It had been about a month, and you still hadn’t returned to her house. Everyone’s anger had been building up slowly.

“No. Absolutely not.” Alexia shut you down immediately.

“Ale,” you sighed. This wasn’t Alexia’s choice. You had already found a place nearer to the training centre. It was cute with old, patterned tiled flooring and exposed brick.

“No. You're too young to live by yourself.” You sighed, not willing to argue about this again.

“Ale, I … I’ve already got a place. I’ve put a deposit down already. I am moving out,” you sheepishly. The look of horror on her face was laughable. You would have thought you said you were skinning Nala and using her fur as clothing. “Um…” She held up a hand, stopping you from speaking. You had only really told her out of courtesy. You had been back to her house several times when she wasn’t home, slowly packing your stuff. The wardrobes were basically empty already; you just had to take down the decorations. It wasn’t like you had many up anyway. You had always thought of it as you sleeping in Alexia’s spare room; it was never yours. And you didn’t want it to be. You tried to speak again, but she just waved you off, turning on her heels and walking away, shaking her head.

After you had officially moved out, training was more awkward than ever. The older players constantly switched between throwing you sympathetic glances, angry glares, and disappointed looks. You had tried not to let it bother you. It honestly didn’t … for a while. In the beginning, it was nothing you weren’t used to. And then they were muttering about you within earshot. Talking amongst themselves over how rude you had been, they had only tried to help you. You were too young, and you were being disrespectful towards them. It really began to bother you, not to the point where your training and playing were affected, but in your personal life. The team had a definite rift, and you were starting to think you were the cause of it.

It was a random Monday morning when things finally came to a head.

“Oh my god!” Bruna squealed as you lifted your top up and over your head. “What are those, Miss Y/S/N?”

��What are what?” You were very confused. Jana gasped as she also spotted something, pointing at your chest. Hickeys. A line of dark purple splotches littered your chest and stomach.

“Fuck. She said she wouldn’t leave marks.” You groaned. You had gone out on Saturday night after the match with some of the younger girls and ended up leaving with a random girl. It was fun; she had stayed the night, and you had made her a coffee the following day before going your separate ways.

“Was she a vampire, Jesus?” Ona laughed, trying to poke at one of the particularly dark ones.

“Oi,” you battered her hand away, laughing all the same. “I’ve seen the aftermaths of your nights out, young lady. You have no leg to stand on,” laughing harder at the blush blooming on her cheeks.

“What. Are. Those?” Alexia boomed, bringing silence over your little group.

“Um, hickeys?” You answered, already tired of her controlling attitude.

“And how did you get them?” She replied. You raised an eyebrow at her.

“You had sex?” Lucy chimed in, disbelieving you.

“Yeh?” Her eyes widened; you were too young to be having sex. She opened her mouth to speak again. “If you’re about to give me the sex talk, don’t bother. That ship sailed long ago.” That stunned her. You had had sex on multiple occasions? She could feel her brain melting slightly.

“When?” Caro asked quietly, unsure whether she wanted to know that particular answer.

“Before I even came to Barca. I’d just signed my first contract. It was a friend from back home, it was nice. We’re still mates, so,” you filled her and the rest of the changing room in – totally open to confessing when you lost your virginity.

“You are too young to-” Alexia started, planning on berating you for your choices.

“Oh, shut up, Alexia.” You shouted. If you thought the changing room was quiet earlier, you could hear a pin drop now. No one shouted at Alexia. Ever. There were a few supercharged seconds. You refused to break eye contact with her. “I am not. Too. Young. I am a fully grown adult. You need to start realising that.” You looked around. “You all do.” You grabbed a random t-shirt and stormed out of the room.

The room was deadly silent. No one dared speak; no one dared even move for fear of retribution. At least Caro had the decency to look a little ashamed; everyone else was fuming.

A bang on the door broke the silence. “Apresúrate,” Jonatan shouted. The younger girls quickly gathered their stuff and rushed out, keeping their heads low and eyes trailing on the ground.

“That little-” Lucy started.

“Enough.” Ingrid cut her off. Ingrid had seen the way they had been treating you. She had heard the comments about how they deemed you too young to do normal things for a young adult to do. “All of you, enough.” They had never heard Ingrid shout before – irritated, sure, pissed off, yes, angry, never. “I am sick and tired of seeing how you treat that woman. She might have joined the team when she was young. But she is now an adult. And you refuse to see her as such. No wonder she snapped.” Alexia tried to cut in. “No, Ale. I know you mean well; you all do. I don’t doubt that. But you have told her off for going out, for drinking, for having sex. These are all normal things. She is safe, and she is happy. Surely, that is all that matters? If it was me, I would have snapped long, long ago. You are lucky; all she did was shout at you.” She turned to get her things. “Don’t come outside until you’ve thought about how to make this right with her,” Ingrid commanded as she stormed off.

The group was initially angry, ranting and raging over your behaviour, then they were slightly less angry with you and more at themselves. Eventually, they were silent, reflecting on how poorly they treated you. Alexia was the guiltiest. She felt so mortified over her treatment of you. Yes, you were a child when you first joined, but now you were a young woman who wanted her own life. They didn’t know how to apologise to you. As they traipsed into training, you refused to look at them.

Over the next few days, you didn’t acknowledge their presence at all. If they approached you in the canteen, you swiftly moved away. If they tried to pair up with you at training, you ran off before they could ask. They had tried to corner you in the changing rooms, but you had slipped out the door before they could move. You couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of it all. You had been pleading with them for months, years even, to treat you like an adult and yet, no, you were acting like a stroppy child.

It eventually became too much for the surrounding team, however, as Patri innocently shouted across the room that you would be at home tonight, alone. And Jana had openly yelled back with your full address, watching with quiet amusement as Lucy scribbled it down.

The knock on your door surprised you. It was only 7pm, not too late for anyone to come over, but no one had asked you or told you they would be making an appearance at your home. You didn’t bother looking through the little glass window as you threw open the door, about to question whoever it was. You froze when you were greeted with the sight of Alexia, Lucy, Marta, Caro and Paños. They had various looks of embarrassment on their faces, and Alexia had a big bouquet of your favourite flowers.

“What?” You asked, not really in the mood for them and any efforts they might have to persuade you to move back in with Alexia.

“Can we come in?” Paños asked. You sighed, knowing you would rather not have this conversation in front of your neighbours. Stepping aside, you eyed them carefully as they stepped into your flat.

“I like your place,” Lucy said awkwardly as you all came to rest at the kitchen table.

“Thanks.” You said bluntly, not really in the mood for this.

“Y/N,” Alexia spoke up. “I … we … I would like to apologise for, well, everything. We … I should have recognised that you are not a child. I am truly sorry.”

“Ok …” you looked between the group, all of them echoing similar sentiments.

“Ok? That’s it?” Marta was a little shocked that you were letting them off the hook so quickly.

“Do you want me to be mad at you? Cos, I’ll happily go back to ignoring you.” You answered. “All I ask is that you treat me like the adult I am. Yes, I go out. Yes, I get drunk. Yes, I have casual sex. Yes, I have one-night stands. All of these are normal adult things. The others do the same, yet you don’t jump on their backs about it. I’m just asking for you to treat me the way you treat them … like an adult.”

It was a slow process, and a few stray comments were still muttered under their breaths, but you could see they were trying. That’s all you could ask for—that they tried.

I hope you enjoyed it. I wasn't quite sure how to end it - if you couldn't tell ahahaha <3 There may be a pt2

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