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yamumsyadadd · 2 months ago

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Sometimes all you need is a little love

At 5, you were loved. Your mum and dad adored you. Everything was about you and your parents. They worked hard, and in return you got to fulfil your dream of being a footballer.

At 8, things started to change. Sundays that were usually filled with church in the morning, and Barcelona games in the afternoon slowly started to disappear.

Your mum and dad were fighting. She was looking frail, unwell, a shell of herself. He looked angry, distant, with marks on his arms, coming home smelling like cigarettes and flowers. It was a weird smell, it would linger in the air for hours to come.

Gone were the days when they would both come to your football. It was one or the other, sometimes even none of them.

At 10, you found her. Hanging. You just sat there, watching her. Eventually going to the neighbours you thought you knew. Turns out they moved out and there was a new family. An older lady, Eli. She let you come inside and called for help while distracting you with cookies and her white fluffy dog.

From that day, things changed. Your father’s love became less and less. His violence and drinking became more. He had a new girlfriend every other month. Barely lasting the entire calendar month.

By age 12, La Masia came knocking. A full scholarship was on offer. It was your dream. Something you and your parents had worked hard for, together. Expect now it was just you. Forging your dad’s signature, you dropped the forms back off. Transferring to their academy the week later.

La Masia was hard. Harder than you expect. Maybe it was because things at home were worse than ever before, your dad lost his job, the random woman continued however now there was random men added into it. Home wasn’t a safe place for you or anyone in that case.

At 14, things hit an all time low, bruises and marks were becoming harder to hide with your promotion to the Barca B team. They were all so close to each other, hanging out after training, getting food or going shopping, their weekends were all spent together. But not with you. As much as they tried you shielded away from it. School and football were the two things that matter - there was no time for anything else, no time to worry about anything else.

The closest thing you had to a parent was the lady across the hall, every few days there would be a plate of food at the front door when you arrived home. On Sundays it was a bigger meal, you’d divvy it out so it would last a few extra days. The limited money you did have was given to your dad, you’d keep some of it but it wasn’t enough for the bus fare and food. It was one of the other.

Every morning you would make the one hour trek from your home in Mollet del Vallès, using that time to do your homework, study plays or rewatch games, sometimes even catching a few more minutes of sleep. Every evening, after training you’d stay and help pack away the equipment, sometime just relishing in the warmth of the facility, the endless hot water, the feeling of safety.

One night, after missing the last bus, you hide in a supply closet. Knowing there was no way you’d get home that night, you huddled around the spare clothes and clean towels. It oddly was one of the best sleeps you’d had in years. The constant security that would walk around the facility made you feel safe.

After that initial night, there were many more nights of sleeping at the facility. Was it the best idea? Probably not, but it was the safest, and the warmest.

15 was when things really changed. At some point, your dad just stopped coming home. He’d be gone for days at a time. This time though, he was gone for almost three weeks. You bloomed in the silence. The apartment was clean, airy, in contrast to the dark, stuffy air that usually resides.

On Christmas Eve things came to ahead. There wasn’t much food left. A few eggs, some bread and some cereal. No milk, vegetables or anything fresh. Biting the bullet, you made your way across the hall to the older ladies door. She had told you before that if you needed anything, to just knock. So you did, rocking back and forth on your heels, you were shocked when the door swung open and none other than Alexia Putellas, captain of the Barcelona Women’s team, 2 time Ballon D’Or winner, was standing there with a smile on her face.

“Hola pequeña, are you ok?”

“Oh, um, hola? Is Eli here?”

“Si, come in.” You stood there for a moment, staring at her, “mami a pequeña is here for you!” Eli, the nice, caring older woman was Alexia Putellas mother. Of course she was.

“Neña! To what do I owe this visit?”

“I am very sorry to interrupt and be rude, but I was wondering if you had any milk I could please have? My papi has gone away for a bit and forgot to leave some money.”

“You’re alone? You’re no older than 16?” A smaller but almost identical person chimed in.

“Si. I am 15”. A shy nod was all you could muster, the energy you previously had disappeared.

“Well where did he go? Are you alone for Christmas?”

“Uh, um a work trip? Si, si, a work trip! He will be back at some point, I’m sure.” It was a lie, a terrible horrible lie and everyone in that room knew. All three older women shared a look.

“Here is some milk Nena. Do you want to stay for dinner?”

“No no that’s okay. Thank you for the milk, I will give you money when I get some!”

“Nonsense dear. It’s just milk.”

Silently you grabbed the milk and started to walk towards the door, leaving the three women staring at you. Eli’s eyes expressed sadness, Alexia’s were confused, she knew you from somewhere but she couldn’t place it, Alba was bewildered, she remembered being 15 and there was no way in hell that Eli would’ve left her home alone, but especially not over the holiday period.

“She is a good girl. She studies hard, she’s at La Masia. Always very polite but something is off in the house.”

Alexia’s head whipped around, “she’s at the academy?” Eli nodded, “how does she get there? it’s a 40 minute drive and she’s not old enough?”

“I don’t know Alexia, tonight was the most she’s spoken to me since she came asking for the ambulance when her mami died.”

“That was her?” A nod was all alexia received. For the rest of the night they were all silent, you went to bed with a small amount of food in your stomach. The 8 pieces of French toast were enough to get you through until the farmers market opened on the 26th.

A dread washed over you the following afternoon when there was a knock at the front door. Opening it slowly, and only half showing your face, Alexia and Alba (you learnt her name after googling Alexia), were standing there.

“Hola pequeña. Mami asked if you and your papi wanted to join us for dinner?” Alexia voice was firm, almost as if there wasn’t room for you to say no.

“Um, sure. My papi isn’t back yet, but what time does she want us?”

“Now-“

“An hour-“ both girls spoke at the same time. Alba wanting to give you time to do whatever you needed, but alexia wanted you father to show himself. Unbeknownst to you, she had reached out to the La Masia staff and a few of the younger girls.

Vicky and Martina had told her the little information that they knew. You were young, talented and a hard worker. You’d catch the bus to and from training, never really talking to anyone and certainly never hanging out with them. They’d offered to help you with your homework, Vicky realising very quickly that you were both in the same grade despite you being two years younger. Both Vicky and Martina felt that there was something off, never seeing your father or anyone supporting you at games, not even at the international friendly with the under 17s that you’d been called up too.

“Okay? How about half an hour?”

“That works. See you soon pequeña!” Alba grabbed her older sisters arm, pulling her away from the door. You slid down the back of yours once it was firmly closed. You needed to think of the perfect lie. Maybe you could say he was too tired, or stuck in traffic. No that wouldn’t work, if he was stuck in traffic they’d wait. The truth wasn’t an option. There’s no way you could just blurt out that you didn’t know where he was.

The dinner was uncomfortable, the food was delicious but the unasked questions were making a lot of tension. You didn’t miss the way Alba and Eli continued to glance at you, or how their eyes went wide when you asked for more. This definitely cemented that something was wrong.

The loud clattering of Alexia’s fork and knife, stopped you from shoveling more food in your mouth.

“This is ridiculous. Pequeña, where is your papi?”

“Don’t know.” You spoke nonchalantly, putting more food into your mouth. Confused looks where thrown around. Eli’s head slowly reaching for yours and taking the fork, “sweetheart, what do you mean you don’t know?”

“I don’t know. He could be stuck at work, or in traffic or asleep.” I shrugged. It was a semi decent lie.

“Does he leave for long periods often?”

“No. It’s usually just a few days.”

“Where does he go?”

To get high, to fuck hookers, to steal, “work trips.”

Thankfully the subject was dropped as Eli gave you back your fork. It didn’t feel like Christmas, no gifts were exchanged, no decorations or Christmas movies. It felt like a Sunday after church, all that was left was a trip to Camp Nou to watch a game but that wasn’t going to happen. Not now, not ever again.

Eli sent you home when a lot of leftovers, ignoring the comments from her own two daughters that they would’ve liked to have some too. It was enough food for at least a month. You’d eaten plenty at dinner so the need for food tomorrow would be less.

The following week was a blur. There was only two training sessions and school was off until after the New Year. Your father had yet to make a reappearance and due to the holidays, you were hiding in the house so you wouldn’t have to see any three of the Putellas women and answer questions.

It worked, for three weeks, until the night you had planned to sleep in the same storage room as usual. Alexia appeared, fresh out of the shower.

“Pequeña? What are you still doing here? It’s late.”

“I lost track of time. I was studying.”

“How are you getting home? Is your papi coming?”

“No. I’m catching the bus.” You felt guilty lying to her, but it was the best option. No one would get hurt this way.

“Let me drive you home. It’s late and you really shouldn’t be catching the bus.”

Before you could argued, she’d grabbed the straps of your bag, dragging it and you along to her car. It was an awkward 40 minutes. Her car was much more comfortable than the bus, warmer and safer. You were still on high alert, especially when she was asking you questions.

For the past five years you didn’t let anyone get close. It was easier that way. You didn’t have to explain the tiredness that was evident on your face, the random bruises that happened, the obvious weightless from the lack of food.

From that moment on you silently agreed to keep everyone further way. You had to be more careful, no more roaming the halls after training. No more asking Eli for milk, or bread, or anything. Leaving extra early in the morning or as soon as training ended. No more being vulnerable.

The day of your 16th birthday was supposed to be a good one. However your father had other plans. You’d been training with the senior team due to some injuries and then needing players, Jona had told you last night he would play you after halftime. A senior debut on your 16th birthday.

That night you’d come home so incredibly happy only for it to come crashing down when your extremely intoxicated father decided to start a fight over the lack of money. He didn’t stop hitting you for what felt like hours. You weren’t sure if you passed out from the pain or from the exhaustion but you knew the following day it would be hell.

The house was littered with used needles, smashed and empty bottles, and it smelt of cigarettes and stale booze. Your arms and legs were covered in bruises as well as a shiner on your face. That one would be the hardest to cover. it took an hour and large amount of makeup before you were confident about leaving the house. The bruise was mostly covered. You didn’t think it was that obvious though. The looks you received on the bus, and even as you walked through the halls, didn’t make you question your makeup job.

True to his word, jona put you on in the 75th minute, subbing Salma off. It was electrifying, a rush you’d never felt before. Then game ended with a win, of course, there was a lot of praise from the older girls. Mario was incredibly impressed and offered to work with you more if you were interested. Something you immediately said yes too. Your bubble was burst when Alexia came over to tell her Eli was there and wanted to see you.

The moment you were within arms reach of Eli, she could tell something was wrong. So could Alexia’s girlfriend, Olga, who she had just introduced you too. After chatting a bit more, Eli demanded she would take you home, making you hurry to gather your belongings in the locker room, forgoing a shower as you didn’t bring makeup to re-cover the bruise on your face.

“Olga you need to help her with makeup.” Alba joked before hugging her sister goodbye. Olga and Eli shared a concerned looked.

“Why is she wearing make up?”

“Mami she’s 16. Teenagers wear makeup all the time. It doesn’t mean anything.” Eli shook her head, there was something wrong but she didn’t know what or how to ask you.

“Ale, keep an eye on her yeah?”

“Olga she’s fine. She’s just a teenager.” Olga’s eyes pleaded with her, “si fine. I will watch over her.”

Two weeks later things came crashing down horribly. You’d been moved into the senior squad officially, that came with perks. More money was the main one. It would only be a few months until you’d officially graduate high school, that meant you could pick up a part time job as well as football. What you didn’t account for was your father.

When you walked in the door you were greeted with a random lady and a little boy, no older than 3, your father was very quickly shoving things into boxes and taping them up.

“What’s going on?” Neither of the adults spared a glance at you.

“I’m leaving. Thea and I are moving to Madrid.”

“I can’t leave papi! The season is still going and i haven’t finished school yet!”

“Good thing you weren’t invited then.” The last scoffed, flipping her son to the other hip. Your eyes were wide. Not believing what you were hearing.

“Tomorrow, the moving truck will be here. You need to be gone by then.”

“Wait! Where will I go? You can’t leave me here!” You yelled after them as they left the apartment. No longer caring who heard or who saw.

“You’re not my problem anymore. I couldn’t care less about what you do or don’t do.” He turned to leave, “you could do the world a favour and hang yourself like your mother did.” With that he was gone. The apartment was mostly empty.

You found the two biggest bags that you could carry. Filling one with all your football stuff, the other with you clothes, the few jumpers of your mothers that you had left, a sleeping bag and pillow. In your school backpack you packed your laptop and all the school work, plus your important documents (birth certificate, photo IDs, passport.)

Though you had no idea where you would go, you knew you’d figure it out. What you didn’t account for was Eli. of course she would notice the moving vans, and the lack of you.

Every second night you’d leave the training facility, set on finding somewhere that was semi safe to sleep. Even though it was the start of February, you knew the beach would be ok. There was enough light to keep you safe, you also had a little knife you stole from your father along time ago.

The last morning before it all went to shit, you were sitting with your bags, still in your sleeping bag, watching the sunrise. Barcelona was quiet at this time of the morning. A few runners or cyclists around but other than that it was peaceful.

“Pequeña? What are you doing here so early?” A semi familiar face dropped in front of you, startling you out of your thoughts. Unable to talk, you just stared at her. “I’m Olga, Alexia’s girlfriend. We met a couple of weeks ago. Do you remember?”

I nodded, she continued on, “what are you doing here? Did you sleep here?”

“What? No! No I just like coming here in the mornings!” I hurried to get up, quickly shoving my things back into my bags, that’s when the knife dropped on the sand, right in front of Olga. We both stopped and stared at it.

“Pequeña-“

“I better go. Enjoy your day.” I quickly picked it up and all but ran towards the bus stop. My thoughts were spiralling. She was going to tell Alexia. I wouldn’t be allowed to play, I’d be sent away somewhere else.

Training was hell. No matter how much you tried to avoid Irene, Marta or Alexia they always appeared. It didn’t seem that Olga had told Alexia or that anyone else knew but it was only a matter of time. All you needed was a few weeks, just to get through the Copa de la Reina final and then you could figure it out.

Thankfully the week went fast and the game on the weekend was a success. There were no more run ins with Olga, or any of the captains of the team. You went as far to complete ignore Eli, Alba and Olga after the game. Quickly running into the locker room and showering before anyone else.

It was harder to hide in the facility after home games. It was busy with trainers, medical staff, admin staff, basically everyone but you figured it out. It was a restless sleep, the close call with Olga playing in your mind on repeat.

Unbeknownst to you, Eli had mentioned it to Alexia at their usual family dinner post match.

“Nena moved.”

“To where?” Both Alba and Alexia’s head shot up.

“I don’t know. She didn’t say anything. I heard her papi say Madrid. I’m assuming she isn’t joining since she’s still playing here.”

“I’ll find out.” Olga knew in that moment she needed to come clean about finding you on the beach. Clearly you didn’t have somewhere safe to stay. Later that night, when it was just her and Alexia cuddled in their bed she did just that.

“I saw Nena at the beach the other morning.”

“Likely place for her to be. She has mentioned loving the beach in the past.” Alexia dismissed what Olga was saying, not particularly understanding why that was important.

“No ale. I think she slept there. She had a sleeping bag and heaps of stuff.”

Silence encapsulated the couple. “I’ll deal with it.” was all the captain said before rolling over and going to sleep. Expect, she didn’t sleep. She played through every interaction she’d had with you, every imagine of you in her mind. You looked tired, the light behind your eyes was gone, you had fully retreated back into your shell, barely talking at training or games, only answering questions when directly asked.

Something was definitely wrong, very very wrong. Enlisting the help of Irene and Marta and Olga, they would find out exactly how wrong it was.

It was evident when you came into training that you hadn’t slept, the truth was that the beach no longer felt safe. Not after that creepy man was watching you. Staying at the facility every night wasn’t an option, neither was staying with a teammate. So you stay at the train station all night. It was relatively safe, but the thought of that man kept you awake.

You’d gotten half way through the day when you snapped. Usually you’d try and stick to Caro or Keira’s sides. Caro because she was quiet and Keira because she couldn’t exactly understand you and you couldn’t understand her. Unfortunately the gym groups were assigned differently today, meaning you got stuck with Mapi, Pina, Patri and Cata. The group of people you hated being around the most. There was never a quiet moment, they were always loud. So incredibly loud.

It was after Mapi had ruffled your hair for the third time that you mumbled for her to stop.

“We can’t hear you gallina. Speak up.” Patri laughed.

“I said, don’t touch me. And don’t call me gallina.” Your patience was thinning, and fast.

“Cheer up gallina. We are just playing.” Mapi went to ruffle your hair again, your hands landing on her chest and shoving her back into Cata.

“I said don’t fucking touch me Maria!” Everyone stopped, turning in horror to see the scene unfold. Tears welled in your eyes, you bolted as fast as you could.

“Nena-“ Ingrid tried to grab your wrists but you dodged her.

Alexia, Irene and Marta all stopped what they were doing. It was extremely unlike you to be so aggressive and rude. No matter how shy you were, you always used your manners. They all shared a look before following you to the locker room.

You rushed through the locker room trying to get your bags packed as fast as possible. You had no idea where you would go, but you needed to get out of here. Far away from the sympathetic looks of your teammates. You were so far in your own head that you didn’t hear the cleats on the floor or the door to the locker opening.

“Nena? What’s wrong?” Irene’s hand on your shoulder startled you.

“Nothing I’m fine. I need to go.” You shrugged her hand off you, putting your backpack on and grabbing your duffle that contained your pillow and sleeping bag.

“Please let us help Nena. We want to help you but we can’t if you don’t let us.” Marta spoke up next, as you looked up you saw that Alexia was standing between you and the door, the only route out of the locker room.

“Please move. I want to go home.”

“Home? Where is that Nena? It’s not in Mollet del Vallès. I know that much.”

You squeezed your eyes shut and took a deep breath, yelling at your captains was a horrible idea, truly horrible. Even in this mental state you knew that, “I do not want to be rude Alexia, but it’s none of your business. I come here, I train, I play, I do as I am told, I don’t make trouble or do anything wrong. Please let me leave.”

Alexia looked troubled. You needed help, that much was clear, but you were right. You did everything that was asked of you, never complaining or whining about it. She looked to Irene for help, Irene simply nodded and alexia moved.

“If you need help, somewhere to stay, you have my address and you know where Mami is.”

A curt nod was all she received and then you were gone. As fast as you could walk without causing any attention to yourself. You spent the next few hours walking around. When it was dark and late, the train station was where you headed. It wasn’t until you were comfy that you realised you grabbed the wrong bag. You left your sleeping bag and more importantly your phone charger at the training facility. There wasn’t much that could be done now, you just had to wait it out.

As you walked into training, you could feel everyone’s eyes on you. You were late, never have you been late before. The lack of proper sleep, nutrition and your body always on high alert was getting to you. By the end of training you were exhausted. Barely having the energy to walk into the locker rooms to shower. Usually when someone was late without giving a proper warning, they’d run laps. No one told you to run laps so you didn’t.

A few days later, at the beach, Olga saw you again. This time you looked worse than before. She made her way to a local bakery, getting water, coffee and something for you to eat before making her way back towards you and hoping you wouldn’t run off.

“¿Niña? Can I sit with you?” She startled you, that much was obvious but you nodded and she handed over everything she bought.

“Why are you here?”

“I like the beach.”

“You’re sleeping here?” She could tell you were scared, it took a while for you to reply.

“Only sometimes.”

Olga nodded, the silence settling over the both of you. “Let me take you to training?”

The drive seem to take forever. It was uncomfortable, Olga wanted to get more information out of you, you wanted nothing more then to be swallowed into a black hole.

“Niña? If you don’t have anywhere safe and warm to stay, please come to mine and Ale’s? We won’t be mad, or disappointed. We want to help you. Okay?”

You gave her a small nod, moving to wipe your tears and get out of the car. Unbeknownst to the both of you, Alexia was in her own car a few metres away watching the whole thing.

It took a day for Alexia to coax all the information out of Olga but when she finally did, she was heartbroken. The thing she had hoped wasn’t true, was in fact true. You were living on the street. Sleeping wherever you could, your papi had left you to fend for yourself. It’s not that you were doing a horrible job at it, but it was obvious you weren’t eating or sleeping enough.

The night of the El Classico is when things went truly horrible. Alexia had told Irene, Mapi and Marta what had happened but any time they tried to talk to you, you literally ran away.

The streets of Barcelona were well and truly alive. The Madrid fans had left the Johan feeling annoyed, angry and disappointed. Anyone would when their team lost 7-0. It probably wasn’t the smartest idea to sleep on the beach that night, but there truly wasn’t anywhere else. The train station would’ve been worse, the facility wouldn’t be quiet until after midnight, and there was no way you’d go to a teammates house.

You’d only just drifted to sleep when you heard the group of guys approaching. They were drunk, that much was obvious. Pretty quickly you woke yourself up, but you didn’t dare to move. Maybe they would just keep walking. Your back was facing the sea, and them but as soon as they laid their hands on you, you turned around.

“Oye, it’s the Barca puta.”

“You’re the reason we lost.”

“We should break her legs!”

The fear set it. As soon as the hits started, they ended. Not only had they assaulted you, but they had stolen your school bag that contained your laptop, water bottle and phone charger. It look a while for the pain to become tolerable. you could recognise that you were bleeding, your ribs hurt, along with your arm, head and leg. You were scared and alone.

Abandoning the beach, you made your way to the one place you could think of. The two women who had urged you time and time again to let them help you, you had refused but right now you needed it more than anything. With the help of your phone maps, you managed to get to their apartment. It took a lot longer than it should have, having to stop every now and then to take deep breaths when the pain was too bad.

You weakly raised your fist to the door, the energy was zapped out of you. It felt like forever before someone answered.

“Hol- holy fuck. Alexia! Come here neña. Let me help you. ALEXIA!” Olga answered the door, annoyed that someone was knocking so late at night. The minute she opened it, she wanted to cry. You were stood there, bloodied and bruised. Seemingly out of it, looking so small and frightened.

She starting leading you to the kitchen when alexia finally came, “what? Oh my god, pequena! What happened?”

“Hurt.”

“Where hurts neña?”

“Head bleeding… arm broken, I think… maybe ribs… leg too. Stole my school bag.” Alexia was freaking out, the usual calm, stoic captain was on the verge of tears.

“We need to call the police Olga! And mami and Irene and-“

“Ale stop. Neña, drink this yes? Alexia is going to get the first aid from the bathroom and we are going to clean you up. We will need to take you to the hospital, but that can wait for a few minutes.” She gave alexia a pointed look while she opened the water bottle and helped you drink.

Their apartment was soft. Very homey and not clinical like you imagined. There were photos of Alexia and her family, Olga and hers, then of them both. There were plants scattered around, a few awards here and there but not many, the one thing that seemed out of place was the dog bed and toys.

“Dog?” Olga’s eyes followed yours, confused as to what you were asking.

“Nala. She died last year but we haven’t been able to get rid of her things.”

“Sorry”. Alexia arrived back with the first aid kit, phone to her ear and a lot less panicked but a lot more mad. that stressed you out, Olga picking up on it straight away. Things moved fast from that point. Alexia and Olga cleaned you up the best they could but ultimately decided that you needed the hospital. It was all a blur. One minute you were in their apartment, the next you were in a hospital gown sitting in a room.

Alexia was non stop pacing, you sat there, wide eyed waiting for her to say something.

“You can say it.” You whispered.

Both girls stopped and looked at you confused, “say what pequena?”

“I told you so’ or ‘you should’ve let me help’, whatever you have planned just say it.” You could no longer look at them, staring down at the floor. You missed the look of heartbreak sweep across both their faces.

“No no pequena. This isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault. There’s no ‘I told you so’ to be said. You came to use when you needed help, we are here now to help that’s all that matters. Okay?” Alexia slowly reached out to wipe the tears from your face.

“I’m sorry.” That was it. All three of you were holding each other crying. Time seemed to blend into one second. You got stitches in your eyebrow and on your leg, your arm was in fact broken and a cast was put on. The doctor seemed to talk and talk, none of the words making any sense. It was until you saw the two police officers standing outside that you seemed to snap out of it.

The doctor left the room, seemingly to talk to the police officers and give them a run down. Olga noticed how on edge you were very quickly.

“Hey, neña, they are only here to ask what happened okay? You aren’t in any trouble.”

You stood up quickly, grabbing the bag with your blood stained clothes, “no I need to go. This was a mistake.”

“Go where pequena?”

“They are going to take me away! I don’t have anywhere to live Alexia! Papi left. He got rid of the house. Mami is dead. I have no where so I’m going to leave before they can take me.”

“Neña no.” Olga moved to block the door. She is small. You could take her, you thought. “You’re staying with us. They aren’t going to take you because you have a home, with us. You will stay as long as needed.”

Alexia and Olga hadn’t exactly had the conversation about it, but they both seemed to be able to read each other’s minds. They were going to take care of you, love you like your parents should have. Sure you’re 16, almost an adult. But everyone needs a parental figure, no matter the age.

“No. You two have your own life, I’m not your responsibility. I can take care of myself, I have been for years.”

“But you can’t neña. You can’t get an apartment, or a phone plan, or your drivers licence. If you’ll let us, we will take care of you.” You were considering it, really considering it. Having a proper bed, proper meals, somewhere safe? It sounded like heaven.

“It won’t be easy pequena, it’ll be hard. For all of us. We’ll have to learn to trust each other, and learn how to live with each other but it’ll be worth it. You can decorate the room however you want, we will buy you whatever you need.”

Before the could continue, the police came in. It took a while to answer all their questions. You could see Alexia and Olga holding hands tightly, wincing slightly when you go into detail.

“What about my school bag? It has all my school stuff and my laptop?”

“We will look for it, but there’s no promises it’ll be found. Do you have somewhere safe to stay?”

“With Alexia and Olga.” You could visibly feel the tension leave both the women. The officers asked Alexia and Olga to step out with them to talk, you took a few moments to gather your thoughts. How had things changed so much. You were just a kid, yet you were forced to look after yourself like you were an adult. You wanted to be vulnerable, to have someone take care of you. Sometimes all we need is a little love.

Maybe in time, things would get better.

#alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #fcb femení #barcelona femeni #mapi león #ingrid engen #alexia x reader #futfem #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso community

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pinpilinpaux · 3 months ago

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Did you make it yourself?

#jenni hermoso #alexia putellas #futfem #*#alexia me resulta tan graciosa cuando seguramente no lo sea tanto #igual es que tenemos el mismo humor de mierda xD

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batlleonafc · 5 months ago

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I can't with this picture 🥹🫶🏻

#ona batlle #asisat oshoala #alexia putellas #futfem #fc barcelona femeni #fcb femeni

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b14augrana · 8 months ago

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Scrubber

Your actions on the field are a product of your childhood idol

Barça Femení x teen!reader

pt. 2 masterlist

Warnings: reader suffers from the scrubber trait. 🥹

A/N: #yanited (not proofread as always x)

It was the last few minutes of the semi-final against Chelsea. If you kept the clean sheet at Stamford Bridge, you were sure to win it. If you didn’t… well, Fridolina tried explaining to you that you’d still win, but you weren’t willing to see for yourself.

“(Y/N), watch the wing!” yelled Mapi, who pointed to the flank. Lucy had overlapped and when the possession switched, you were left to take on Macario.

You glanced in the direction of the left wing, feeling slightly — no, very scared to go against Macario… on your own.

You could tell just by looking at her for a split second that Mapi was a bit worried for you too, and if she could deal with Macario she would, but unfortunately you were closer.

Nevertheless, you ran towards her side-on, trying to anticipate her next move. You knew what Mapi would say; hold her off until Lucy’s back in position, just delay her.

At the same time, you knew what Nemanja Vidić would do, and that is knock the living daylights out of her with a slide tackle. Guess what path you decided to take?

You sent yourself flying feet first towards the ball. As you slid across the grass, pushing the ball out of play. The last thing you saw before getting to your feet again was the distraught expression of Macario as she tumbled over your body, seemingly going headfirst towards the ground.

You could barely hear the groan she let out, because soon you were stood up and Mapi was at your side, patting you on the back for your tackle. Lucy ran to retrieve a ball and quickly toss it in to resume the play.

You hadn’t even registered your tackle until the side of your thigh started to hurt a little. A short glance beyond your shorts helped you discover that it was a bit red, but the tackle was worth any bruise that was sure to form in its place.

The game only started to pick up again when the red card was shown to Buchanan. Holding down the back line when the through balls and dribbles kept coming felt like a real Vidić-esque thing to do.

If it wasn’t already super obvious, Nemanja Vidić was your idol. You bled blaugrana in every shape and form, but that didn’t stop you from taking inspiration from the former Manchester United defender. If you hadn’t been a lifelong Barcelona fan, you would’ve trialed for the Manchester United academy and played for them just to say you played at your idol’s former club. You always had a pen and paper on hand in case you happened to come across him, and if that ever did happen you’d immediately get it tattooed (legal or not, you’d find a way).

The team found your love for Vidić very endearing. It was obvious that you admired his fearlessness because of how you tried to imitate it on the field by putting your body on the line, and Lucy loved that; she called you a ‘little brick wall’. Irene was a more solid defender than you, though. Your tactic was to just throw yourself at the ball whenever you were in doubt. She actually had tactics.

So, when Lauren James was at the edge of the box, winding her leg up to take a shot, you couldn’t find the time to think before flying in, cutting her out. You were smart enough to face the other way, and the ball deflected off your back instead of your face.

“¡Así es!” Ona yelled from the other side of the pitch, running into the box to defend further until Lucy cleared it down the wing.

The match ended with the scoreline being 2-0 to Barcelona. Everyone said your tackles were the defining factor that kept it that way, but you thought it was all thanks to Aitana, Frido and Cata. Regardless of who did what, you were happy your team were into the finals. You were happy you did something to keep them up on aggregate.

You ditched the celebrations a bit early to go sit down in the locker room and get your daily logins on Hay Day. The adrenaline wore off almost immediately after you sat on the bench, and your attention was brought to the minor grazes and bruises scattered along your legs. You felt one on your abdomen and somehow, you had a scratch on your shoulder.

You were glad. Vidić would never come out of a big match like that unscathed. You did your idol proud on the field, or so you hoped at least.

Most people often asked why you wanted to be a defender and subject yourself to the most physical parts of the game. Truth be told, you just really loved denying people of a goal. Lucy said you ‘played for the badge’ and despite not knowing what that meant, you hoped it was good.

You were also really bad at aiming and every time you cleared the ball or made a pass up field, you hoped and prayed it would at least go straight. You could never be a goal scorer like Caro or Aitana or Mariona.

“(Y/N),” a voice called out. You looked up from your phone to see Lucy. “Why aren’t you out celebrating?”

“I almost missed my Hay Day login. Have to do that before anything,” you replied. Lucy laughed, walking closer and sitting down on the bench beside you.

She put an arm around your shoulder, the way she always did. It felt older sister-y, and you liked that. “You really know how to tidy up back there,” she remarked. You smiled slightly, your cheeks burning up. Lucy was an insane defender so her praise meant the world to you. “Thanks, Luce.”

“They’re looking for you to give you the Player of the Match trophy, but you ran away too fast,” Lucy laughed, and your eyes bulged out of your skull.

“What about Aitana? She was the one that scored.”

“And you’re the one that kept out almost their entire team. You deserve this!” Lucy added, shaking you. You were a bit confused because you didn’t think your tackles were that vital, but you were proved wrong.

“Okay, okay. I’ll go out in a bit, after I put my slides on,” you responded. The woman smiled and gave you a tight side hug.

“Nemanja would be proud, scrubber. Good job today,” Lucy added while she stood up and began to walk away. Your face couldn’t help but form a smile of its own.

“But, don’t start slide tackling in every game. The last thing we need is for you to get hurt trying to wipe someone out with a Brexit,” she said sternly, suddenly turning around with a finger pointed at the plotting expression on your face. You raised your hands in defense.

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meazalykov · 5 months ago

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new family

barcelona femení x kika nazareth x reader

summary: if your family cannot accept you for who you are, your new family will.

warnings: homophobia mentions, coming out, angst, comfort, very long fic

your new home.

the first time you step foot in barcelona, it feels like an entirely new world. at just nineteen, you've been given a rare opportunity to live across the atlantic ocean, far from home, far from the familiar comforts of family and friends to play for the best club in women’s football as a defender.

it's thrilling, this chance to explore yourself and form your own ideas without the weight of your past or family pulling you back. but it’s also terrifying, since you have to build your social life from the ground up.

the team welcomes you warmly, and before long, you feel like you’re a part of something special– a new family.

you bond quickly with your teammates, and learn your new rhythm of life in spain.

but to you there's one person who stands out more than the others—kika, the newest player at barcelona. she's full of life, happy, with a laugh that makes your heart race and a smile that lights up even the darkest days.

at first, you don't understand why you're drawn to her the way you are.

you’ve had crushes before, but this feels different, for many reasons.

your last crushes were on men, many years ago during your middle school days.

the feelings you have for kika are more intense, more real.

you find yourself watching her during training, lingering in her presence, and feeling a flutter in your chest whenever she talks to you. she asks you to be her partner during drills, and you always accept.

the whole thing is confusing, overwhelming, and a little scary, but also something you can’t ignore.

as the days turn into weeks and the weeks into months, your feelings for kika grow stronger. it hits you one evening when you’re both sitting on the blue barcelona benches after a late training session, the sky painted with the soft hues of an orange spanish sunset.

kika is talking about her family back home in portugal, her eyes sparkling with fondness, and you realize that you don’t just like kika—you’re Infatuated with her. in that moment, everything clicks into place.

you’re a lesbian.

it’s a realization that shakes you to your core, but also feels like a puzzle piece finally falling into place.

for the first time, you truly understand who you are, and it’s liberating.

you begin to accept it, slowly, carefully, letting the idea settle in your mind. it’s a part of you, a part that you hadn’t fully understood until now.

kika, oblivious to the storm of emotions inside you, continues to talk, and you smile, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. you don’t know when it happens exactly, but one day, she looks at you in a way that’s different from before—softer, more intimate—and you realize she feels the same.

it’s subtle at first, a brush of hands, a shared look that lingers a little too long, until one night after el clasico when you invite her over to your apartment, she kisses you.

it’s everything you’ve imagined and more—soft, sweet, and filled with love.

you pull back, breathless, staring into her eyes with a mix of disbelief and joy.

“is this okay?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper, and you nod, too overwhelmed to speak.

“yeah, it’s more than okay,” you finally manage, and she smiles, pulling you into another kiss, this one deeper, more assured. it’s the beginning of something beautiful, something that feels right.

it’s a crisp evening in january in munich, the air buzzing with the electric energy that only a champions league match can bring.

the stands are packed, fans draped in blaugrana, but with german red as well.

their cheers and chants echoing through the stadium. you’re on the pitch, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you face off against bayern munich, the intensity of the match pushing you to your limits.

the game has been tight, both teams fighting fiercely for dominance on the field.

you’ve been giving it your all, weaving through defenders, pressing high, stopping german forwards, creating chances, but the breakthrough hasn’t come yet.

the score is still 0-0, and you know that one goal for barcelona could change everything in the group stage match.

then, it happens.

a perfectly timed pass from alexia sends the ball back to your foot, just outside the box and after the halfway line.

as a defender, you notice gaps. bayern had a huge gap where you could launch the ball towards the goal– the only risk being their goalkeeper blocking it.

you take a quick touch, setting yourself up, and without hesitation, you strike. the ball sails through the air, spinning towards the top corner, and for a split second, time seems to slow down.

the breath in your lungs were held, watching as the bayern goalkeeper dives, her fingertips brushing the ball—but it’s not enough.

the ball hits the back of the net.

for a moment, there’s silence, as if the entire stadium is holding its breath.

then the roar of the away crowd erupts around you, deafening and exhilarating, and you feel a rush of pure, unfiltered joy.

you did it. you scored in the champions league.

as a centre back, this hasn’t happened with you much.

your teammates rush towards you after you put your hands up in joy, their faces alight with excitement and pride.

you’re grinning so wide it hurts, your heart pounding in your chest as they surround you, offering high-fives, smacks on the back, and hugs.

but it’s kika who reaches you last, on purpose– her eyes shining with a mix of awe and love.

before you can say anything, she’s wrapping her arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace.

you can feel her heart beating just as fast as yours, her breath warm against your ear as she whispers, “you were amazing, y/n.”

and then, without a second thought, she presses a soft kiss to your cheek. it’s a sweet, tender gesture, full of affection and pride, and it sends a warm flush spreading through your entire body. the kiss lingers, her lips soft against your skin, and you can’t help the way your heart skips a beat at the contact.

her words stick to you. she didn’t mention the goal, she said that you were good.

you pull back slightly, just enough to see the wide smile on her face, and you’re sure you’re blushing, but you don’t care.

“thank you,” you murmur, your voice soft, almost shy.

the moment doesn’t go unnoticed. your teammates who got back in their positions start to giggle and cheer, their voices playful as they take in the scene.

“look at that!” ewa teases, a wide grin on her face. “our goal scorer’s getting some extra love.”

ona, who’s always quick with a quip, sidles up beside you, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

“y/n, you’re so in love it’s written all over your cute face.”

you glance at kika, who watched you with that same soft smile before setting herself up for the game, and you know you can’t deny it.

not when you feel like this—so happy, so content, so in love. you shrug, a playful smile tugging at your lips as you meet ona’s gaze. “i can’t help it,” you say, your voice full of warmth. “she’s kind of hard to resist.”

the match continues, but that moment stays with you—etched into your memory as one of the sweetest, most genuine moments of your life. and as the whistle blows on the field again, you can’t help but feeling like you’ve won twice in one evening.

being with your girlfriend is like a dream. she’s everything you could have hoped for in a partner—kind, understanding, and so full of love that it makes your heart swell just thinking about her.

your teammates notice the change in you, the way you light up whenever kika is around, and they’re happy for you.

alexia, your captain and neighbor, is especially supportive, always there with a knowing smile or a gentle word of encouragement.

living next door to alexia and her girlfriend, olga, has its perks.

the two of them have taken you under their wing from the moment you arrived, treating you like a little sister. alexia is the kind of leader who leads by example, and she’s always there to guide you, both on and off the pitch. her and olga’s relationship is something you look up to.

you spend countless nights at their apartment, talking about life advice, football, and everything in between.

alexia is your rock, she is the goat to everyone but to you she is another sister. someone you can lean on when things get tough, and olga is like another mother figure, always ready with a joke to lighten the mood, help you with dinner, or a hug when you need it most.

it’s during one of these late-night conversations that you find the courage to tell alexia about your true feelings for kika.

she listens intently, her eyes full of understanding, and when you’re done, she smiles softly.

“i’m proud of you, y/n,” she says, placing a hand on your shoulder. “i am happy that you’re being true to yourself– i had to go through the same thing. you and kika compliment each other very well.”

her words give you the strength you need to take the next step—to come out to your family.

it’s something you’ve been dreading, but you know it’s something you have to do. so, one evening, you call them, your heart pounding in your chest as you wait for someone to pick up.

your mother answers first, her voice warm and familiar, and for a moment, you almost back out.

but then you remember kika, the way she makes you feel, and you know you can’t keep this part of yourself hidden any longer. you wanted to show the world that you loved kika, and taking that step to tell your family first was important.

“mom, there’s something i need to tell you,” you begin, your voice trembling.

you can hear the concern in her voice as she asks what’s wrong, and you take a deep breath, closing your eyes as you force the words out.

“i’m… i’m dating someone–”

“oh my goodness, finally,” your mother cheers.

“i didn’t realize that you’d have suitors in spain– what's the fellows name!?” she continued.

your heart broke a tiny bit, knowing that it's not a man you’ll be telling her about.

“you’ve been watching my games, right?” you ask.

you couldn’t see your mom, but you could tell her eyebrows were raised.

“yes?”

“number 18 on my team, kika– she is the person i am dating..” you swallow.

there’s a long silence on the other end of the line, and for a moment, you look at your phone thinking that the call has dropped. but then your mother speaks, her voice cold and distant in a way that makes your heart drop.

“are you serious, y/n? is this some kind of phase?”

the words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you can feel the tears welling up in your eyes.

“no, mom, it’s not a phase. i’m a lesbian. i’ve always been, i just… didn’t tell you until now.”

“y/n, this isn’t… this isn’t what our parents raised us to be,” your younger brother’s voice cuts in, harsh and unforgiving.

“you can’t be serious about this. this has to be a joke. you’re throwing your life away for something that isn’t even right or makes sense.”

your heart breaks.

“it makes sense to me,” you whisper, but they’re not listening.

they continue to talk, their voices overlapping in a barrage of judgment and disappointment, and you feel your heart tearing apart with every word.

“please, just… try to understand,” you plead, but it’s no use. they’ve made up their minds, and there’s nothing you can say to change it.

“y/n, you need to think about what you’re doing or if you’re being manipulated,” your mother says, her tone final.

“we can’t support this or you. this is all wrong.”

the words echo in your mind, cutting deeper than anything you’ve ever felt before.

they don’t accept you, they don’t understand, and it feels like your world is crumbling around you.

“i… i can’t do this– goodbye.” you manage to choke out before ending the call, you quickly block your families numbers from your phones before the sobs hit your body– forcing you to collapse onto your bed.

you don’t know how long you stay there, crying into your pillow. the sun sets and now your room is dark, since you don’t bother getting up to turn on your ambient lamps.

eventually, you force yourself to get up when you notice the polaroid picture of you and kika sitting on your bedside table.

your legs are shaky, your heart feels like it’s been smashed into a million pieces, but you know you can’t stay here. you need to be somewhere safe, somewhere where you’re loved.

the family you grew up with will not be your family anymore. you refuse to associate with individuals that cannot accept you for who you are. Luckily you’re in another country so it won’t be as hard.

without thinking, you grab your keys and head to alexia’s apartment across the hall.

your hands tremble as you knock on the door, and when it opens, you’re shocked to see not just alexia and olga, but also ingrid, mapi, frido, caroline, and marta.

they’re all there, gathered around the living room, and as soon as they see your tear-streaked face, they jump up from the sectional couch and rush to your side.

“y/n,¿qué pasó?” alexia asks, her voice full of concern as she pulls you into a tight hug.

you try to speak, but the words won’t come out, so you just shake your head, burying your face in her shoulder as the tears start again.

“it’s okay, you’re safe now,” she whispers, rubbing your back as the others gather around, offering their own words of comfort.

“they… they don’t accept me,” you finally manage to get out, your voice breaking.

“they don’t understand, and they never will.”

there’s confusion from your teammates. everyone looks around to see anger and sadness in mapi’s eyes. she might not relate to it, but she knows exactly what you might’ve gone through.

“y/n, i’m so sorry,” mapi says, her voice thick with emotion as she reaches out to squeeze your hand.

“you don’t need them,” mapi continues firmly, her hand resting on your shoulder.

“what happened?” ingrid whispers in mapi’s ear.

“my family doesn’t want me to be with her, they don’t accept me ingrid.” you say, rubbing your eyes as you put your head up from alexia’s shoulders.

all of the adults in the room frowned.

“i am so sorry nina.” olga hugs you.

“we love you, y/n. everyone here, and everyone on the team, accepts you.” caroline rubs your shoulder as olga pulls away from your body.

“we’re your family now, y/n. we love you for who you are, no matter what.”

“and we always will,” frido adds, her voice soft but strong.

“you’re not alone in this,” olga says.

“not at all.” alexia finishes.

the words are like a balm to your broken heart, and you feel a warmth spreading through you as you look around at the faces of your teammates—your friends, your family.

they’re here for you, they love you, and they’re not going anywhere.

“thank you,” you whisper, your voice trembling as you look at each of them.

“i don’t know what i’d do without you all.”

“you’ll never have to find out niña,” alexia says, pulling you into another hug.

“we’re here for you, always.”

as the night goes on, you start to feel a little better, surrounded by the love and support of your teammates.

it doesn’t erase the pain of your family’s rejection, but it helps to know that you’re not alone.

kika comes over to alexia’s apartment when mapi contacts her, not giving much detail but saying that you needed her support.

when you tell kika everything– her eyes are wide, filled with a mixture of shock, worry, and something deeper—something that makes your heart ache all over again.

she steps closer, her hand trembling slightly as she reaches out to touch your cheek, wiping away a stray tear with her thumb.

“y/n…” she whispers, her voice breaking with emotion.

“i’m so sorry. i… i can’t believe they’d say that to you. you don’t deserve that. not at all.”

her words hit you hard, and you can see the pain etched on her face, pain that mirrors your own.

it’s clear that she’s hurting for you, that your heartbreak is tearing her apart just as much as it’s tearing you apart.

she pulls you into a hug, holding you so tight that you can feel her heart beating against yours, strong and steady, grounding you in a way that nothing else can.

“estou aqui, ok?” she murmurs, her breath warm against your ear as she strokes your hair.

“i’m here, and i’m not going anywhere. we’ll get through this together, i promise.”

you clutch her tighter, feeling a fresh wave of tears coming on, but this time they’re different—not just tears of sadness, but also of gratitude.

you don’t know what you did to deserve someone like kika in your life, someone who loves you so deeply and so fiercely, but in this moment, you’re thankful for every bit of it.

kika pulls back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes, her hands cupping your face with a tenderness that makes your chest tighten.

“they don’t get to decide who you are or who you love,” she says, her voice firm, full of conviction.

“you’re perfect just the way you are, y/n. and i love you, so much. don’t ever forget that.”

her words are saving, pulling you out of the darkness that’s been threatening to swallow you whole.

you nod, unable to find the right words to respond, but the look in her eyes tells you that she understands.

“we’re your family now,” kika continues, her voice softening as she presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. she smile, not knowing that alexia said the same thing a few moments ago.

“me, alexia, mapi, everyone here. we’re your family, and we’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”

the others nod in agreement, their expressions full of love and support, and you feel a warmth spreading through your chest, chasing away the coldness that’s been lingering since that painful phone call.

you’re surrounded by people who love you for who you are, people who will stand by you through anything, and that’s more than you could have ever hoped for.

“i love you too, so much kika” you finally manage to say, your voice shaking with emotion as you look into kika’s eyes.

“all of you. thank you… for being here, for loving me.” you say looking at your present teammates.

kika smiles, a soft, bittersweet smile that tells you she understands the depth of what you’re feeling.

she leans in, pressing her lips to yours in a kiss that’s full of love, reassurance, and a promise of better days to come.

it’s a kiss that reminds you that you’re not alone, that you have a family here in barcelona—a family that will love and support you no matter what.

when you finally pull away, you find yourself wrapped in the warmth of your teammates, their arms around you in a group hug that feels like a cocoon of safety and love.

your new home.

if you're struggling with similar feelings, just know that you're loved always. it might not feel like it, but we love you and support you for who you are!

my master list is here if you want to read more fics <3

#barcelona femeni #woso community #woso fanfics #woso x reader #fc barcelona #esmee brugts #aitana bonmati #salma paralluelo #kika nazareth #woso imagine #woso soccer #wlw #woso imagines #espwnt #futfem

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pickledwoso · 2 months ago

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the videos for Keira and Frido i’m dyngggggg

#barcelona femeni #barça femeni #woso #futfem

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didalexiabreakupwitholgaisback · 3 days ago

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frozen queens on the pitch 🥶

source: fcbfemeni on twitter

#alexia putellas #ingrid engen #cata coll #vicky lopez #caroline graham hansen #fridolina rolfö #kika nazareth #alba caño #irene paredes #salma paralluelo #jana fernandez #fcb femení #futfem #woso

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pitchsidestories · 1 month ago

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the wish II Ingrid Engen x Mapi León x Reader

romantic masterlist | platonic masterlist | word count: 1340

summary: Mapi and Ingrid are looking for a special gift to give it reader for Christmas. requested

author's note: dear readers, we hope @briggtea and you all will enjoy the wholesome oneshot. 💜💜

You smiled when you saw the sign on the door that said they were filming for a social media post outside on the pitch. Those videos were always a lot of fun. You never knew what the question of the day would be when you walked out to training, it kept you on your toes.

You opened the door curiously, excited to answer whatever the social media department came up with.

“Bon dia, girls. I’ve a question for you. What was your favourite football shirt as a child?”

The question made your face light up immediately. Childhood memories of yourself watching hours upon hours of football flooded your brain. You wanted to be exactly like your idols, so you begged for their shirts for birthdays and Christmases every year.

Mapi who walked out in front of you didn’t hesitate and winked at the camera: “Puyol for me.“

“Any Barcelona one for me too.“, Ellie replied politely before turning towards you, “What about you, y/n?”

You thought about it for a moment, trying to find the perfect answer: “I’m afraid I don’t really have a favourite but there was one I always wanted and never got.“

“Tell us.“, Ellie demanded with a big grin.

“But that wasn’t the point of the question, was it?”, you smirked.

“Doesn’t matter, keep going.“, directed the social media manager.

You shrugged and finally revealed: “I always wanted a Marta jersey.“

As you were about to continue to walk towards the pitch, Ingrid appeared by your side. She studied your side profile with watchful eyes: “Was there a special reason? I mean to why you didn’t get it?”

You shook your head: “No, I just never got it.“

A plain and simple explanation now but when you were young, you were heartbroken about the fact. You adored everything the Brazilian did, from her skills to the way she spoke about women’s football.

She was so good that she was even recognised by male football players at a time when the sport was still target of a lot of ridicule. For you, she was the greatest football player ever back then. In fact, you still looked up to her today.

“That’s sad. Alexia, Caro, Ona? What were your favourite shirts growing up?”, the social media manager moved on to the next players that left the dressing room.

“Mine was Messi!”, Vicky yelled from behind them to which Alexia only rolled her eyes.

“Messi, of course. I loved my Ronaldinho one.“, the captain with a nostalgic smile on her lips.

Vicky frowned at her: “Who?”

“You don’t know who Ronaldinho is?!”, Alexia and you synchronously asked with dismay.

“Just kidding.“, the young player laughed.

You shook your head about her: “Can’t believe you’d joke about something like that!”

“I know. That’s why I had to.“, she smirked back.

“You’ll get that back.”, Alexia warned her with a mischievous twinkle in her hazel eyes. The captain already busy thinking about what she could do to return the joke.

While your team warmed up, Mapi bumped her arm softly into your girlfriend’s side to receive her attention. “You know what, Ingrid?”

“What?”, the Norwegian frowned.

“I think I’ve the perfect idea for y/n’s Christmas present this year.”, the older defender told her proudly.

Mid exercise Ingrid stopped moving, eagerly waiting for her lover to continue: “Tell me.”

“A Brazil Marta jersey.”, Mapi whispered because you were nearby, but luckily too focused on the training to hear what they were saying.

The taller woman’s face lit up in delight at the Spaniard’s suggestion: “That’s a great idea. I’m sure we can get her an original one even and she’ll love it.”

“I hope so.”, the heavily tattooed defender replied optimistically.

The weeks before Christmas were hectic, but at times beautiful, for example, when you strolled with the Barcelona team around Gamla stan, Stockholm’s old town which was prettily decorated for the festive season.

During the walk Mapi couldn’t stop taking photos of her surroundings including Ingrid and you. Memories forever captured on camera film.

The Christmas days the three of you spend in Norway, close to Ingrid’s family, the New Years Eve you all would be back in Spain to celebrate the arrival of 2025 with your friends.

For a moment you looked at the window, watching the snowflakes dance in front of it. Your girlfriends and you already had a delicious evening dinner.

Now it was the time to unpack the presents which lay underneath the Christmas tree. All three of you were filled with giddy excitement and couldn’t wait to see the reaction of your loves when they’d open what you gifted them.

“Okay, who’s starting to unpack the first present.”, you clapped excitedly into your hands.

A bright grin was formed on Mapi’s lips as she volunteered, she was fully covered in the warmest blanket to keep herself warm: “I’ll start.”

“This is from y/n and me.”, Ingrid explained solemnly handing her the beautifully and careful wrapped box.

Once the Spaniard glanced into the insides, she glanced up in awe. “You girls are the cutest. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. We spotted this and immediately thought that’s so Maria.”, you hummed.

In a pleasant tone the Norwegian added: “And we know you love everything coffee related.”

Both of you knew that the older defenders love for coffee ran so deep she even got it permanently inked to her skin. On a rare free day, you three loved to spend your time in trying out new coffeeshops.

“I’ll be on coffee duty tomorrow morning to try this out.”, Mapi decided cheerfully.

“We hoped you’d say that.”, you chuckled.

“Of course, you two did.”, she smiled amusedly.

Clearing your throat you quickly changed the topic:” Ingrid, you’re next.”

The Norwegian started to unwrap her present patiently, folding the paper neatly until it revealed a dainty golden necklace.

“Oh my god, girls. You didn’t need to. Thank you so much.“

“You’re welcome, amor.“, Mapi said softly as she helped her put the necklace on.

“You deserve it.“, you agreed.

“I really appreciate it.“, Ingrid beamed.

You both leaned over to simultaneously press kisses to her cheeks which made Ingrid immediately turn red.

“So I guess it’s my turn now.“, you finally said, pulling the only gift left under the tree into your lap.

Mapi nodded with excitement: “Yes, open it!”

You could feel your breath hitch when you saw a sliver of yellow fabric peaking out from the wrapping paper. It couldn’t be. There was no way.

“It’s a Marta jersey!”, you finally confirmed delighted, holding up the Brazil shirt.

Ingrid nodded, pointing at the back with your idols name and number on it: “It’s even signed.“

“No way!”

“Do you like it?”, Mapi asked impatiently.

You shook your head, lost for words. The little girl inside of you was jumping with joy and you suddenly felt emotional for her. “No. I love it. You know when we were kids, we only had male role models and Marta was the first female one for me…“

“And now you finally have her shirt.“, Ingrid concluded.

“Thank you so much. This might be the most thoughtful present I’ve ever received.“, you said as you blinked away the upcoming tears.

“Admittedly we had some help with it.“, Mapi laughed lightheartedly.

“From our fellow football friends?”, you asked.

Ingrid nodded: “Special thanks to Geyse.“

“And our social media team for asking you that question.“, Mapi added.

You couldn’t help yourself, you had to slip the shirt over your Christmas sweater. You pulled your two girlfriends into a tight hug: “Thank you, sweethearts. This might be one of my favourite gifts ever.“

“We’re glad you like it.“, Mapi smiled and gently kissed you forehead. “Look, it started to snow again!”

“This is beautiful.“, you said while staring out the window where big snowflakes fell, starting to cover Ingrids hometown in a layer of white.

Ingrid pulled you and Mapi in towards her as you stood there and watched on: “It truly couldn’t be anymore perfect than this.“

Christmas/Winter Oneshots

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