#aitana bonmati gifs

[meazalykov]

everything is lost

aitana bonmati x f!chelsea!spanish!reader

after leaving barcelona, aitana wondered if you were leaving her

warnings: angst, google translated spanish, 4.2k word count

requested? yes

the first leg in barcelona was a war that felt as if you were encircled on all sides.  

you had walked into the tunnel with your head high, ignoring the way your stomach twisted at the thought of playing against aitana, your aitana, the aitana you’ve been dating for three years.

you knew this was coming, but still, it felt foreign, unnatural. 

you had been teammates before, had worn the same red for spain, had shared hotel rooms during international duty.

however, you felt different now. 

aitana was on the other side.

you transferred from barcelona to chelsea last season, something that caused tension between aitana and you. 

the arguments from that eventually subsided, but this match might unscrew that lid again.   

she did not look at you during warmups. did not acknowledge you when you passed her in the tunnel. she spoke to lucy, to keira, to patri, but not to you.  

you thought it was fine, of course she would talk to her own club teammates.

suddenly, you see her talking to lauren, erin, and millie.

your teammates.

maybe you shouldn’t have let it her ignoring you get to you, but it did.  

so when the match began, you played with a feeling you hadn’t felt in months. every duel with aitana felt personal, sometimes you side tackled making sure that you did not injure her– but you wanted her to feel that you weren’t going to take her easy because she is your girlfriend.

when you shoved her off the ball in the 38th minute and sent a long pass to erin, the crowd erupted.  

erin scored.  

chelsea was up 1-0.  

when the whistle blew for full-time, you exhaled, exhausted but victorious. one foot in the final.  

then you saw her.  

aitana was standing there, her hands on her hips, her jaw tight. when you walked past her, she finally spoke.  

"te sentiste bien con eso?" she asked, her voice sharper than usual.  

("did you feel okay about that?")

you turned to her, frowning.

 "¿qué?"  

(what?)

"celebraste como si hubieras ganado el torneo," she said, shaking her head. 

"ni siquiera has llegado a la final."  

("you celebrated as if you had won the tournament," 

"you didn't even make it to the finals.")

"¿en serio?" you scoffed. 

"pensé que sabías lo que es perder, aitana."  

("really?")

("i thought you knew what it was like to lose, aitana.")

the words hit harder than you meant them to.  

the catalan’s eyes darkened, her lips parting like she couldn’t believe you had said that. 

you felt something crack between you.  

she walked away without another word.  

again… since you left barcelona for chelsea, things between you and aitana had been slowly unraveling.  

at first, it was subtle, things you would not have noticed at first. 

fewer texts during the day, delayed responses at night. the good morning messages became inconsistent, and the calls that once stretched for hours dwindled into brief, necessary check-ins. 

she stopped sending you videos of her morning coffee, and you stopped sending her updates about your day. 

maybe neither of you had meant for it to happen, but the distance was already creeping in before you had even realized.  

long distance was not easy for people who did not seem to try. 

then came the international breaks.  

you saw aitana, of course, but it wasn’t the same.  

at barcelona, she had been your constant, the person you warmed up with, the one you sat beside at team meals, the one who instinctively reached for your hand under the table. 

now, during spain camps, there was an invisible line drawn between you. you stayed with alexia, jenni, and misa, falling into your old friendships with ease. aitana stuck close to laia, sharing private conversations you were no longer a part of.  

you noticed how she laughed easily with laia, how their heads tilted close when they whispered to each other. she looked comfortable. at ease.  

not with you.  

with you, there was hesitation, careful distance, like she wasn’t sure how to act around you anymore. maybe you didn’t know how to act around her either. maybe the space between you had stretched too wide, and neither of you had the courage to bridge it.  

the worst part was, no one really questioned it.  

it wasn’t uncommon for teammates to gravitate toward different groups, to spend time with the people they were closest with. for you and aitana? that wasn’t how it used to be. people noticed. 

alexia did. jenni, too. misa had even asked once, "are you and aitana okay?"  

you had shrugged. 

"yeah, why wouldn’t we be?"  

that was a lie.  

every time you sat across from her at dinner and she didn’t meet your eyes, every time you cracked a joke that she didn’t laugh at, every time you passed by each other in the hotel hallways and all you got was a nod—  

you knew you weren’t okay.  

and the worst part?  

you didn’t know if you ever would be again.

the catalan observed you on the pitch during the game, and it was much different than seeing you on screen.

aitana hated seeing you in that blue.  

not the deep, royal blue of barcelona..the blue of london, of chelsea, of a club that was never hers and never would be. she hated how it clashed against her memories of you, how unnatural it looked after years of watching you wear the same colors as her, after years of sharing the same badge. 

she never said it aloud, never admitted how much it burned, but every time she saw you fidget with that chelsea jersey in your soft hands, something inside her twisted.  

you had chosen this. voluntarily. no one forced you out of barcelona. no one pushed you to leave. you just said that you were unhappy and dipped. you had made that decision yourself, and maybe that was what hurt the most.  

the breakdown of your relationship was affecting everyone…whether you wanted to admit it or not.  

especially the spanish girls.  

for years, you and aitana had been the bright, untouchable IT couple. the golden pair of spanish football, of barcelona, of la roja. everyone had seen the way you looked at each other, the way you moved in sync on the pitch, the way aitana’s fingers had always found yours in quiet moments, like it was second nature.  

now?  

now, it was different.  

now, you played in different leagues, wore different colors, fought for different goals. now, instead of love, there was rivalry…an obsession with being better, with proving something, even if neither of you could fully name what that something was.  

the worst part was, you still loved each other.  

you knew it. she knew it.  

however, football had consumed you both.  

aitana had become the best footballer in the world, crowned the ballon d’or winner in 2023 and 2024. you weren’t far behind, breaking into the top five both of those times, proving yourself among the best. 

you should have been celebrating each other, should have been proud, should have been side by side through it all.  

instead, you were enemies.  

or at least, that was what it felt like.  

and neither of you knew how to stop it.

in the second leg of the semifinals.. london was supposed to feel like home.  

as you stood on the pitch, staring ahead at your old team, nostalgia wrapped around you like a phantom touch.  

barcelona was celebrating. aitana was celebrating.  

the catalan team won, 2-1 overall.

you could still hear the echoes of their cheers as you walked toward lauren, wrapping your arms around your exhausted teammate. she let out a breath against your shoulder, hands gripping your back tightly, and for a second, you allowed yourself to sink into the embrace, closing your eyes.  

something clicked inside you.  

what went wrong?  

why were tana and i like this?  

you had left barcelona willingly. you had no regrets about coming to chelsea, about finding something new instead of repetitive. 

that didn’t mean you didn’t miss her.  

suddenly, you wondered…were you two just dragging along an inevitable end to your relationship? or had you just let too much time slip away, avoiding the hard conversations that long distance demanded?  

football was not supposed to be your whole life.  

somehow, it had become exactly that.  

you yearned for aitana. the ache was dull but ever present, sitting in your chest, right next to the love you still had for her.  

she didn’t yearn for you.  

at least, that was what you told yourself when you looked up and saw her laughing, arms wrapped around fridolina, her head thrown back in joy.  

she wasn’t thinking about you.  

she was happy.  

without you.  

you swallowed hard, turning away, willing yourself to push down the lump rising in your throat. you didn’t want to break, not here, not now.  

what you didn’t see was the way aitana’s expression shifted the moment you turned your back.. her smile faltered, then disappeared altogether. aitana’s eyes followed you, watching as you lowered your head, as you tried to disappear into the shadows of your own thoughts.  

she wanted to go to you.  

wanted to comfort you.  

but she didn’t.  

because she thought you would push her away.  

and maybe she would never know that you wouldn’t have.

bilbao, your home, felt warm. not because of the sun, not because of the excitement buzzing in the air for the champions league final. of course it had to be in your hometown, where chelsea could not play. 

anyways, 

despite everything, you were still here, sitting in the stands, supporting aitana, supporting your old club.  

you weren’t alone.  

"you look like you’re about to throw up," jill teased beside you, nudging your arm.  

you rolled your eyes, arms crossed as you kept your gaze fixed on the pitch. 

"i’m fine."  

you were not, something inside of you wondered if you should even be here.

"mhm," she hummed, unconvinced. 

"because ‘fine’ definitely means sitting stiff as a statue in the stands, staring at your girlfriend like you’re in a tragic romance film."  

you turned to glare at her, but jill just grinned.  

jill is supporting her girlfriend, jana, who plays for barcelona. you love jana like she was your little sister, so of course your bond with the dutch woman grew over the last year playing in the WSL together. 

"you can be honest, you know," she continued, leaning back in her seat. 

"long distance is hell. every woman who is dating another in this sport has been through it. doesn’t matter how strong you think you are…it tests you."  

your jaw clenched. 

"it’s not just that."  

"no?" jill’s voice was softer now.  

"it’s like... football became everything," you admitted, keeping your voice low. 

"for both of us. and now, i don’t even know if she sees me the same way anymore. or if she’s just... moved on from us."  

jill didn’t answer right away. instead, she turned her attention back to the pitch.  

"she hasn’t moved on," she finally said. 

"if she had, i do not think that you would be here."  

you exhaled through your nose, unsure how to respond to that.  

then—  

aitana broke the deadlock.  

your heart jumped as the ball hit the back of the net, as the stadium erupted around you.  

she did it.  

for a split second, you forgot about everything else.  

you stood up, clapping, cheering, your eyes locked on her. you could feel the love radiating from you, unfiltered and real, your chest swelling with pride.  

she celebrated with all of her teammates on the pitch.

after…she looked for you.  

you noticed immediately. the way she scanned the crowd after the celebrations, searching, searching…until her eyes found yours.  

love.  

it was there. in her gaze.  

and then you did it, instinctively, without thinking.  

your hands formed a heart.  

aitana’s expression softened, her lips parting slightly before she quickly did the same, her fingers curling into a small heart for you.  

your chest ached.  

"see?" jill’s voice cut in beside you. 

"she still sees you, and loves you."  

you sat down slowly, heart hammering, a light ease washing over you for the first time in months.  

this wasn’t a resolution.  

this was a moment.  

a reminder of what was still there.  

whether or not you and aitana could find your way back to each other…that was still unknown.

after the final whistle, its 2-0. barcelona had done it again. champions of europe. while part of you was proud, happy for your old club, for your friends, for her, another part of you felt misplaced, like you were intruding.  

the celebrations had already begun to die down when you finally made your way onto the pitch.  

you followed jill like a lost puppy, your steps hesitant as your boots pressed into the familiar grass. you shouldn’t feel like a stranger here, but you did.  

jill had no such hesitations. she spotted jana immediately and sprinted toward her, engulfing her in a hug, leaving you to stand awkwardly near the edge of the celebrations.  

you shouldn’t be here.  

the thought wormed its way into your mind, and for a second, you considered slipping away before anyone could notice you.  

then—  

“¡ahí estás!”  

(“there you are!”)

before you could react, a pair of arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a tight hug.  

patri.  

you exhaled, hugging her back as a soft laugh escaped your lips.  

"you knew i’d come," you muttered into her shoulder.  

"of course," she grinned, pulling back slightly, hands still gripping your arms. 

"and i’m glad you did. pero, qué pena," she sighed dramatically, shaking her head. "i still wish you were on the team."  

you giggled, nudging her playfully. 

"i’m still very happy for you guys, regardless."  

"i know," patri said, squeezing your arm once more before glancing over your shoulder. 

"and i think there’s someone else who’s happy you’re here too."  

you followed her gaze, your breath hitching slightly when you saw aitana standing a few feet away.  

she looked frozen in place.  

she had clearly noticed you, had been watching, but she didn’t seem to know what to do.  

luckily, you did.  

without hesitating, you walked toward her, your arms spreading out slightly, offering her the space to meet you halfway.  

and she did.  

aitana;s arms wrapped around you, your own arms tightening around her waist. the moment you sank into her, you felt yourself relax in a way you hadn’t in months. the hug lasted far longer than it probably should have…neither of you willing to let go.  

you swayed side to side slightly, pressing your face into the crook of her neck, inhaling the familiar scent of her scent and shampoo.  

you needed this.  

you needed her.  

she needed you.

she needed this.

rivalry aside, distance aside, confusion aside…this was still the love of your life.  

"i’m happy you’re here," aitana finally murmured, voice quieter than usual.  

you smiled, pulling back just enough to look at her. 

"i’m happy that you won."  

aitana’s lips parted slightly. 

"really?"  

you laughed, shaking your head. 

"of course. i don’t hate you guys, you know."  

aitana let out a small breath, nodding. 

"lo sé, lo sé, no te preocupes."  

(“i know, i know, don't worry.")

something inside you wondered…did she know?  

you stood there for another few moments, wrapped in each other’s warmth, before ingrid called her name, snapping her back to reality.  

"i’ll see you later?" aitana asked, eyes searching yours.  

you hesitated, but nodded. 

"yeah."  

later never came.  

the moment had felt good…right, even…but after the final, things between you and aitana slipped right back into the same cycle.  

the texts remained sporadic, the calls non-existent. when you did text, conversations were short, often left unfinished.  

you told yourself it was just the aftermath of the season, the exhaustion, the obligations, but deep down, you knew better.  

it was affecting you.  

mentally, emotionally…you felt off. distracted during any outings in london, restless at night, constantly unlocking your phone only to lock it again, hoping for a message that never came.  

and aitana?  

she wasn’t doing much better.  

she threw herself into her training, into everything but you. she told herself that it was just easier this way, that if you wanted to talk, you would reach out first.  

but she missed you.  

she missed you in the quiet moments, in the in-betweens, when she grabbed her phone only to realize she had no reason to text you anymore. she missed you when she made her morning coffee and didn’t have anyone to send a picture to. she missed you when she caught herself scrolling through old photos, reading old texts, looking for something that felt like you.

the you before you left barcelona.  

and the spanish girls noticed.  

they weren’t blind. they weren’t stupid.  

they had watched you and aitana go from inseparable to distant. from untouchable to strained.  

and now, with the olympics just a few weeks away, they knew they had to do something.  

"okay, this is ridiculous," alexia sighed, crossing her arms as she sat in the living room of her home with jenni, misa, and salma. 

"we can’t go into the olympics like this."  

"they’re exhausting," misa groaned, tossing her head back against the couch. 

"they’re both miserable, and they’re making the rest of us miserable too."  

salma, who had been quiet up until now, finally spoke up. 

"so what do we do?"  

alexia exchanged a glance with jenni.  

"we fix it," jenni smirked.  

misa frowned. 

"and how exactly do we do that?"  

alexia leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. 

"simple. we trap them."  

salma raised an eyebrow. 

"trap them?"  

"yes," alexia nodded. 

"they clearly aren’t going to talk on their own. so we make them."  

"we force them into a situation where they have to talk," jenni added, her smirk widening. 

"where they can’t just avoid each other like they’ve been doing for months. they’re acting like children."  

misa’s lips curled into a slow grin. 

"i love this."  

"what’s the plan?" salma asked.  

alexia exhaled. 

"we need them to be alone. somewhere they can’t just walk away."  

"like a room?" misa suggested.  

alexia shook her head. 

"too easy to leave."  

"an empty locker room?"  

"no, that’s too obvious."  

jenni’s eyes suddenly lit up. 

"what if we send them on an ‘errand’? make them think they have to pick something up for the team..except, surprise, they’re actually just stuck together."  

misa laughed. 

"oh, that’s evil. i love it."  

"perfect," alexia smirked. 

"we’ll figure out the details later. but for now, all we have to do is make sure neither of them suspect a thing."  

"so we act normal?" salma asked.  

"exactly," alexia nodded. 

"and then, when the time comes…"  

"we force them to talk," misa finished, her grin mischievous.  

the plan was set.  

and whether you and aitana liked it or not, the reckoning was coming.

four days later… it was misa who got to you first on the first day of national camp.  

“we need a favor,” she said, linking her arm with yours as you walked out of the locker room. 

“lexi and i were supposed to go pick up some stuff for the team, but we’re too tired. can you and aitana do it?”  

you blinked at her. 

“me and aitana?”  

misa smiled innocently, which meant she was up to something. 

“yes, you and aitana. come on, you owe me for all the times i’ve covered for you when you sneak snacks into camp on your period.. even after that son of a bitch said we could not have any.”  

son of a bitch = the old coach. 

“first of all, i did not sneak snacks,” you said, narrowing your eyes.  

misa ignored you. 

“it’ll only take, like, thirty minutes. max.”  

you hesitated, glancing toward the other side of the room where aitana stood, tying the laces of her trainers.  

“does she even want to go with me?” you muttered.  

misa grinned, pushing you forward. 

“she just doesn’t know it yet.”  

ten minutes later..

“okay,” you said, stopping in the middle of the empty hallway. 

“this is a trap.”  

aitana turned to look at you, arms crossed. 

“what?”  

“this,” you gestured around, at the hallway, at the fact that the ‘errand’ misa had sent you on led to a completely locked storage room. 

“this is a setup.”  

aitana frowned, glancing at the door and then back at you. 

“they wouldn’t…”  

you both stared at each other.  

they absolutely would.  

aitana exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair. 

“unbelievable.”  

“you think they’ll let us out if we start screaming?” you joked, leaning back against the wall.  

aitana sighed, shaking her head. 

“they won’t let us out until we talk.”  

you swallowed. 

“do you want to?”  

silence.  

aitana’s gaze fell to the floor, her arms still crossed over her chest like she was trying to hold something in.  

“do you?” you asked again, softer this time.  

aitana clenched her jaw. 

“i don’t know where to start.”  

you took a deep breath. 

“start with why you’ve been acting like i abandoned you.”  

aitana’s head snapped up. 

“because it felt like you did!” she blurted, her voice raw, full of something broken.  

you inhaled sharply.  

“i didn’t leave you,” you whispered.  

aitana let out a bitter laugh. 

“no? then why does it feel like you did? you left barcelona, you left me, you left everything we had, and you just…acted like it was normal. like it didn’t mean anything.”  

your chest ached. 

“it wasn’t about you, aitana.”  

“then why?” she pressed, stepping closer, her voice trembling. 

“why did you leave?”  

you swallowed hard, your hands clenching at your sides. 

“because i was depressed.”  

aitana’s eyes widened slightly.  

“i wasn’t okay,” you admitted, your voice thick with emotion. 

“i needed a change, a new club, something different. there was no abuse at barcelon, no mistreatment, no one pushed me out so do not worry about that…but i wasn’t happy anymore. i needed to go somewhere else, to breathe, to feel again.”  

aitana stayed silent, her lips parted slightly as if she wasn’t sure what to say.  

“you know i was not getting a lot of starting time. you knew how much the national team things were getting to me. i just needed to get out of spain, okay?”

you exhaled shakily, your voice dropping. 

“and it hurts me that you took it so personally. like i chose to leave you like i wanted to hurt you.”  

aitana’s face softened, her brows furrowing.  

you shook your head, blinking rapidly to push back the tears threatening to fall. 

“i miss you, aitana. i miss us. i miss what we were before all of this.”  

aitana exhaled, stepping closer.  

“so do i,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. 

“i just…I hated seeing you at chelsea. it felt wrong. it felt like you weren’t mine anymore.”  

you let out a watery laugh. 

“i was never not yours.”  

aitana’s lips parted again, her expression pained.  

you wiped your face, your breath uneven.

 “i’m sorry for leaving… but i’m not sorry for choosing chelsea.”  

aitana nodded slowly, processing your words.  

“and if you can’t do long distance anymore, then our three-year relationship can end here,” you said, voice shaking despite the steadiness of your tone.  

aitana’s entire body tensed.  

you swallowed hard, meeting her eyes. 

“but i don’t want it to end, i do not think it needs to end if we can get through this and find resolutions.”  

aitana shook her head, stepping forward abruptly. 

“i don’t either.”  

the words crashed over you like a wave.  

you let out a soft sob, and aitana’s arms were around you before you could think. 

you collapsed into her hold, pressing your face into her shoulder as she held you tighter than she ever had before.  

“i love you,” she whispered into your hair, her voice breaking.  

your fingers curled into the fabric of her hoodie, clutching onto her like she was the only thing keeping you grounded.  

“i love you too,” you breathed.  

you stayed like that for a long time, clinging to each other in the silence, breathing in sync. aitana’s hand ran soothingly up and down your back, her touch grounding, familiar, home.  

after a while, aitana sighed, her chin resting on top of your head. 

“what do we do now?”  

you pulled back just enough to look at her. 

“after the olympics, we take some time. just us. no football, no rivalry. just time to forgive each other, to move past this.”  

aitana nodded, eyes filled with something softer. 

“and we figure out how to make this work. properly.”  

you managed a small smile. 

“yeah.”  

aitana cupped your cheek, her thumb brushing away the stray tear that had fallen. 

“i don’t want to lose you.”  

you leaned into her touch, your eyes fluttering shut. 

“then don’t.”  

aitana pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead before pulling you into her arms again, her body warm and solid against yours.  

this was not a perfect resolution.  

there was still work to do. still things to figure out.  

but for now, this was enough.  

this is love.

masterlist

[woso-dreamzzz]

Shy

Aitana Bonmatí x Reader

Summary: You still get shy around your girlfriend

The move was a long time in the making.

You bled North London, making your senior debut at just seventeen for Arsenal. You came straight up through the academy with Leah. You eat, lived and slept Arsenal and yet...

Barcelona was where you found yourself now.

They'd been chasing you for years, trying to get your pen on paper. You'd turned them down every time up until now.

It broke your heart to leave Arsenal but it was for the best.

Barcelona got what they wanted, three years of world class defence from you and you got what you wanted, to finally move in with your girlfriend.

Aitana was perfect. You'd met at a friendly years ago and really hit it off. Five years later and you both knew that the long-distance portion of your love was coming to a close.

There wasn't even a question of who was going to move. You may have bled North London but you were happy to trade rainy England for sunny Spain.

It felt a bit like the honeymoon stage again when you could barely keep your hands off of each other. Just a tiny brush of her hand against yours made you feel all tingly inside and you kept smiling at her like a loon, unable to wipe it off your face.

"You're disgusting," Lucy commented as you sat in the break room, head propped up on your fist as you stared longingly across the room," I've never met anyone more smitten before. You know you live with her, right? It's not too scary to talk to her, I hope."

You looked down bashfully, cheeks aflame.

Lucy had been leading the charge on teasing you about Aitana. You couldn't help that your girlfriend still made you feel like a blushing school girl.

"She's busy. I don't want to interrupt her," You replied, turning away to try and hide your embarrassment."

"Busy," Keira scoffed," She's talking to Mapi and Ingrid. That's hardly busy."

"They're having a conversation. People shouldn't invite themselves into conversations. It's rude."

"So you're just going to pine from afar?" Lucy laughed. She reached forward and pinched your cheek, ruffling your hair when you forcefully pulled away. "God, what are you twelve?"

You had a retort on the tip of your tongue but it died instantly when Aitana turned around.

She smiled at you and waved.

You waved back and looked down bashfully.

Lucy made gagging noises.

"Leave me alone!" You complained," Can't you go and bother someone else?"

"But you make it so easy." She flicked you away with her hand. "Go on then, lover girl. Try not to just stare and dribble down your top."

You flipped her off as you went, ignoring the way Keira was making kissy faces behind your back.

"Hi," You said softly, hyper aware of the red sheen to your cheeks.

"Hi," Aitana said back, patting the spot next to her.

You sat and moved to rest your head on her shoulder while Aitana's hand immediately gripped yours, lacing your fingers together tightly.

"You two are so gross," Mapi said," You're like little kids on their first date."

Unlike with Lucy, you didn't feel confident enough to argue with Mapi. You'd played on the national team with Lucy for years. You knew how to deal with her but, with Aitana's teammates, you felt it was probably better to just stay silent and not make eye contact.

"Just because we still have chemistry doesn't mean it's a personal attack on you," Aitana replied.

Her thumb gently stroked circles on your hand as she spoke and you melted into a pile of goo then and there.

"Me and Ingrid still have chemistry!" Mapi insisted," Just because we're not pushing our PDA on everybody doesn't mean we don't! You're like horny teenagers."

The permanent blush on your face only got deeper and you tried to hide your face in Aitana's shoulder.

"Look at her!" Mapi continued," She's like a pile of mush!"

"I'm still here," You muttered," I can hear you."

"Are you sure?" Mapi teased," I mean, can you really focus on anything apart from Aitana? God, you both make me feel sick. You're disgustingly in love."

"There's nothing wrong with that." Aitana looked proud at the comparison, puffing out her chest in a way that made your cheeks burn brighter. She dropped a kiss to one of them, nice and firm and you slouched a bit lower in your seat when you accidentally caught Mapi's eye.

"I mean, what are you doing to the poor girl?" She laughed," She looks like a tomato!"

"She's just shy," Aitana said," And that's fine! I love her like this."

You pressed a soft kiss to her neck and whispered for her ears only," I love you too."

[hrtwayne]

My Kink is Karma || Alexia Putellas [Part One]

Pairing: Alexia Putellas x Physiotherapist!Reader

Summary: Where Y/n is hired as the new Physiotherapist for Barcelona Women's Team after a recent complicated breakup with one of the stars of English football.

Note: English is not my first language!

Warning: None!

Next Chapter | Women's Football Masterlist

Y/n Henry adjusted her sunglasses as she walked through the streets of the Northern Quarter, her favorite refuge in Manchester. Despite the overwhelming success she had achieved over the past two years with her skills in physiotherapy, working with the Arsenal women's team and the French national team, she always found a way to return to this place, with its record stores and the cafés of the neighborhood where she grew up.

Manchester wasn't just her hometown; it was the essence of who she was. Her way of thinking, her sporting spirit inherited from her father—a player so well-known by the Gunners' fans, Thierry Henry—and the influence of her mothers in aspects that didn't involve a football or late-night study sessions to find ways to help some player.

It was almost impossible to ignore the influences in her life, growing up in a home divided by two footballing passions. Her father, a football star who had marked an entire generation of Arsenal fans, always took every opportunity to remind her of her roots. On the other hand, her mother, a loyal Barcelona supporter, made sure to balance the man's fanatical narrative.

That morning, Y/n decided to start her day at a cozy café, Fig + Sparrow, a place she had loved since her teenage years. She ordered her usual flat white and sat at a table near the window, watching the flow of people walking down the streets. Some were in a hurry, others glued to their phones, and a few chatting idly. As Y/n finished up some last-minute work for the semester, she tried to forget everything that was happening in her life: a recent breakup with one of English football's stars, her possible departure from Arsenal, and her new contract with a Spanish team.

The Northern Quarter had always been a haven of creativity and calm for her, and even now, at the peak of her career, she returned to those bustling streets when she needed to unwind.

After her coffee, Y/n headed to Afflecks, the paradise of alternative shops, where she used to spend her teenage allowance buying books and vinyl records with her younger brother, Harry. As she walked with her phone in hand to let the blond player know she was near the store, Y/n started a small list of things to buy by the end of the day.

"I thought you'd never stop giving autographs," Y/n joked, hearing the man's chuckle.

Harry, who was leaning on a counter, looking at some vinyl records, turned his attention to his sister.

"Hmm, did Charlotte call you?"

"The last time she called me, she was in Los Angeles filming that series," Y/n replied, picking up The Smiths' album. "Did something happen?"

"You know, the same old story. The idiot ex-boyfriend she always ends up going back to," Harry said, grabbing the blue-covered album, which Y/n recognized as Taylor Swift's "1989."

Y/n rolled her eyes at Charlotte's excessive stubbornness.

"So, she called you to say she got back with him?"

Harry placed the vinyl in the basket along with The Smiths' album.

"She called saying they were going to film a 'romantic' scene together, and then they ended up drunk in the trailer," Harry explained, seeing the bored expression on his older sister's face. "Dad's going to kill her when he finds out."

"And you know he'll blame some of it on us, right? Charlotte's an adult, H. If she made a mistake like that, she should face the consequences," Y/n cut the conversation short, noticing how Harry sighed wearily. "You need to stop worrying about other people's problems and focus on yourself, dude. You have an important game in a few days."

Harry seemed to relax his posture gradually, nodding as he followed his sister to fill the basket with vinyl records and old discs.

That same day, around 8:40 PM, Y/n stepped out of the bathroom wearing an oversized Arsenal shirt, her hair still wet and a somewhat tired look on her face. The messy room in her Manchester apartment was filled with books and reports about some players.

That place was truly the perfect mix of her chaotic personality. Y/n sat on her bed, arranging the scattered papers to try to organize the post-apocalyptic zone.

The sound of her phone ringing broke the deep train of thought Y/n was in. The French physiotherapist sighed, putting the paperwork aside to answer the phone. An unknown number flashed on the screen.

"Hello?" Y/n said, her voice still tired.

"Hey, Y/n. Did I wake you?" A firm voice with a slightly funny accent asked.

"No, I just got back from a walk with Harry," Y/n replied, recognizing the voice as Aitana's. "Did something happen?"

"I heard about your breakup with the English player, and I wanted to know if you're okay," Aitana began, in a tone that Y/n immediately recognized as genuine concern. "Last time you said things weren't going so well between you two."

Y/n hesitated, taking a generous sip of the tea that warmed her throat. She knew she couldn't hide anything from the player.

"Maybe breaking up was the healthier solution, A. It wasn't exactly news that things weren't good between us," Y/n paused. "You know, I couldn't run away from it forever."

Aitana seemed to hesitate, and the call fell silent for a few seconds.

"And are you going to stay on the same team as her?" she finally asked, in an almost maternal tone.

"Well... I've received a few offers from some teams. Nothing too different from what I do here at Arsenal, but it might be a chance to try something new. My contract is up now, so I can sign a pre-contract with any team that's not an English rival."

"Don't tell me there's an offer from Barcelona in the mix," Aitana said, hearing the physiotherapist's chuckle.

"Well, you guessed it," Y/n said, in a fake tone of annoyance. "Next week I'll land in the city to sign the contract and start working."

"I can finally rub it in the English girls' faces that I have you on my team," the woman celebrated, making Y/n laugh. "Now I'll let you think about what you're going to tell your dad."

"Don't even remind me, he's going to be furious. But at least it's not Chelsea or Manchester," Y/n joked, hearing the midfielder laugh.

[delusional-dinosaurr]

10 Laps - Aitana Bonmati x Reader

“Don’t even bother Y/N, she’s out of our league. I mean look at her!” Niamh nudges you whilst you are standing drooling over the goddess that is Aitana Bonmati. Her hair blowing gently in the wind, it feels almost like something you’d see in a movie. You’ve definitely watched her more than you should have, but who on earth could resist looking at her? Obviously not you.

“Focus on the competition Y/LN” Millie says also nudging you whilst grinning at your lovestruck look. You sigh and nod, continuing your pre-match team walk of the stadium whilst Barcelona do the same, eventually the two teams combine and conversations amongst the teams start.

“Y/N!” Keira gives you the biggest hug, you’re also finding Ona and Ingrid’s arms around you too.

“Ah I’ve missed you guys! How are you doing in sunny Spain?” You ask, you continue a nice conversation between the three of you. You’re then introduced properly to some of their teammates, one in particular you were obviously more inclined to get to know.

“Aita! C’mere!” Keira hollers over to Aitana to come and meet you, she offers you a gentle smile and gives you a hug in greeting, which you obviously hug her back, even with her being slightly shorter than you.

“Aita this is Y/N, Y/N this is the Ballon D’or winner, World Cup champion –” She is cut off by an elbow to the ribs from Aitana.

“Please, there’s no need to say all that, I’m just normal Aitana” She smiles.

“Pfff, that’s a lie, have you seen yourself? You’re beautiful, talented, the list could go on” You say, causing Aitana to break out in a blush.

“God nevermind I'm splitting this up already” Lucy says joining the conversation with her old teammates, jokingly shoving you away from Aitana.

“Lucy you never said your friend was this charming” Aitana grins at you.

“Yeah there’s a reason for that, now c’mon, we’ve gotta get going now Y/N” Lucy says as she tugs you away.

“What was that for?” You ask Millie joining her side, who sighs in response.

“Luce is quite protective of Aitana from her time in Barcelona, she’s had some rocky relationships and knows what you can be like” She says.

“Mills, you know I’m not like that, I’ve just had some rather unlucky relationships too” You groan back to her. She hugs you as the teams continue to split apart to carry on the walk around the pitch at Stamford Bridge.

━━━━━

The day is here, your big match. You’re already ahead in the first leg so you know you’ve just gotta keep that same energy going.

“You okay?” Guro nudges you, you’re sitting, bouncing your knee in the locker room whilst all your teammates are chatting or dancing about after your warm ups.

“Nervous” You say quietly to her. “I know I’m not normally a nervy person but today just, I have that weird feeling y'know?”. Guro gives you a hug and reassures you for a few minutes before you head out.

You start lining up and look over to the Barca team who are also making their way out to line up with you. You look at their line and see Aitana, also looking nervous beside you.

“I would try to say things to help you win and reassure you, but you’re dangerous to us” You say in spanish whilst nudging her, a quiet laugh coming from the spaniard.

“I appreciate the sentiment. But also good luck marking me” Aitana smiles up at you also speaking in Spanish, causing you to chuckle.

“No luck needed Bonmati” You wink back at her, making her laugh.

━━━━━

Safe to say luck was needed. You lost 2-0 after a long fought battle with marking Aitana, who proved difficult to mark. In the last few minutes the exhaustion really hit when you were struck with a strong tackle from Fridolina Rolfo, meaning you were helped off the pitch by some teammates for your substitution. The Spanish side celebrated their win, you and your teammates collapsed in sadness and exhaustion. You hobbled over, kneeling down on the grass attempting to console your sad teammates. You feel a gentle pat on your back, causing you to lift your head up and look at who it was, Alexia Putellas herself.

“Keep your head up, you were fantastic. I’d kill to have you play for us one day” She says to you in spanish and smiles at you whilst crouching down with her arm around you.

“It’d be a dream to represent Barca at some point in my life, I’ll take you up on that one day” You smile, knowing your contract ends soon and you’ve been gunning for going abroad at some point whilst you’re still young and with your dad being spanish, meant you’ve had to learn two languages growing up to appease both parents.

“Contract expires soon, no?” Alexia winks, causing you to chuckle and hug her back, she lifts you up so that you’re not sat in the mud. “Go thank your fans, they need you” She smiles sadly at you, you nod in response and hobble along to join the rest of the team doing the rounds.

“You and Alexia aye?” Erin nudges you gently, so that she doesn’t knock you over in your temporary crutches and boot.

“Not my type, but she did mention wanting to steal me for Barcelona one day” You joke, Erin's eyes widened at the statement, causing her to latch onto your arm.

“Absolutely not! You’re blue through and through Y/N!” She says frowning slightly, her accent somehow seeming even thicker with the added frustration.

“Erin, don’t be so hard on her. Y/N we will support you no matter what happens this year okay?” Guro says knowingly from the other side of you. She holds her hand out for you to hold onto her instead of using the crutches.

“Thanks Guro, I didn’t know how to break it to you all but, Chelsea hasn’t offered me a contract extension, they’re looking for newer talent apparently” You give a sad smile with them both visibly looking upset.

━━━━━

A few weeks later you played your final match for Chelsea, getting a proper send off from your childhood club and the best teammates. After a few days of back and forth with negotiating contracts with other teams, your eyes widen at an offer from the club you’ve dreamt about playing for, Barcelona.

You arrive at Camp Nou to do your pre-season and signing photoshoot ready for the announcement. You haven’t told your Chelsea mates that you in fact did end up signing for the team as you’ve been so busy with England friendlies whilst others were playing in the Olympics.

“Y/N Y/LN, about time” Alexia greets you whilst you’re having your photos taken in your new kit and number.

“Who did you kill to get me here then?” You banter back and forth for a few minutes whilst you’re still having your photos sorted.

“Come, let me show you the team, in nicer circumstances than the last?” She smiles gently. The girls are all at training at the other pitch which Alexia takes you off to, also kitted up ready alongside you.

“Girls, there’s someone you need to meet!” She yells from the sideline as the team is warming up.

“NO FUCKING WAY” Keira runs over to you and lifts you up, your national teammate always being this affectionate with you.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you Ke, it was all up in the air until, well I was in the air” You smile.

“Best surprise ever” Mapi comes over to hug you as well.

“Sorry again for that tackle” Frido gives you a big squeeze.

“Ah I’m just glad I’m on your side now” You joke, elbowing her.

“God you look good in a Barca shirt” Ona comes over and says, turning you around to see your name and number on the back whilst whistling appreciatively.

“Not already hitting on me when your girlfriend isn’t around” You jokingly roll your eyes at Ona.

“Ah we all know who you’d want to flirt with you mate” Keira winks.

“Y/N hi!” Aitana greets you with a big hug, Keira giving you a knowing look from behind Aitana as you blush at the interaction, causing Keira to roll her eyes at you with a smirk. You get called in by the coach to start training with the girls, luckily with Spanish being your second language you’ve managed to gel quickly into the session.

“Want some friendly competition Y/N?” Aitana nudges you. “I bet my team wins in our scrimmage”.

“Yeah? And what do I get if I win?” You smile.

“Mmm anything you want” She smiles “But if I win, I want to go on a date with you, even if it’s just a coffee before training”.

“Deal” You shake her hand, being split onto opposite teams and starting the friendly match between Aitana’s team and Frido’s team (you being on Frido’s). You’re already marking Aitana, working as hard as you can to defend your side's goal, knowing fully what Aitana is capable of.

“You’re not making this easy for me are you?” Aitana chuckles as you help her up from the grass after being tackled by you.

“Nuh uh, I’m serious about winning bets Bonmati” You wink as you run back to your position. After another 10 minutes you accidentally got too into your friendly bet that you tug Aitana by the training bib, causing her to go tumbling into you, knocking both of you onto the ground, luckily you softened her fall with your body.

“Caught you” You laugh at her shocked expression.

“Wouldn’t have fallen if you didn’t pull me so hard!” She says lifting herself up from you, instantly causing your face to become flushed.

The match ends 3-2 to your side, managing to get two assists for your team.

“I told you I was serious” You smirk going over to get water with her.

“It’s like you didn’t want to go on that date” She looks a bit deflated.

“Nah, because for my win, I’d like for you to take me out on a date, a tour of Barcelona on a day off” You smile nervously.

“Oh…OH! Yes! I mean, yeah sounds good I can do that” She tries to play it off cool and fails massively.

━━━━━ A few days later you find yourself on a tour with Aitana as your guide, you’ve already done most of the tourist attractions and historical parts but after a few hours she drags you to the top of the Montjuic mountain area by taking you up the cable cars. You both stand there admiring the view.

“It never gets old” She smiles over at the view, you take a photo of her admiring the view to which she doesn’t notice you taking the photo in the first place.

“Thank you by the way” You smile at her.

“Eh?” Aitana tilts her head at you.

“Thank you for giving me the tour of Barcelona, it’s been really nice to spend time with you…and not the rest of our teammates” You blush trying to not be awkward with your answer. Aitana grins at you and squeezes you into a hug.

“We should do this more often, yes?” Aitana says enthusiastically, you nod back at her and hug her even tighter.

Once your hug breaks apart you move closer to the wall and peer over at the vast landscape of the city, spotting the landmarks you’d toured earlier in the day, with Aitana pointing them out for you.

“So I was thinking we could always-” You cut her off with a kiss, hoping you had read the situation correctly. Luckily for you, you felt her soft lips moving in sync with yours, giving you the butterflies in an instant.

“-Go back to mine for food? And we can do more of that” She continues, looking quite flustered.

“I’d love that” You smile, feeling much more shy than before.

━━━━━ Around 3 months later you were out for a night out at a club with the Barca girls as a celebration of a win against Madrid CFF. You and Aitana have been dating since the day of your first kiss but you’ve chosen to keep it fairly quiet so you can start with privacy and keep away from prying eyes, but you haven’t necessarily been hiding it, still some obvious signs. Your teammates still think you’re just pining after Aitana after all of this time and still to this day, are trying their best to put you two together for training, or even media duties.

“You look beautiful by the way” You kiss Aitana on the cheek as she turns up to the group outing, a greeting that is normal amongst the Spaniards, with them being so affectionate with each other. Aitana quietly thanks you, smiling away at the compliment even after 3 months you’re still making her blush. After a few hours, and a few drinks, the majority of the squad are either on the dancefloor or sat in the reserved seating area you have. Aitana comes along and sits on your lap, and leans her head on your shoulder.

“Tired, my love?” You ask her.

“Mm, I’d much rather be at home right now, you, me and the bed sound great for many reasons” Aitana says just loud enough for you to hear.

“Fuck Aitana, why would you say that!” You groan, wiping your hand over your face in an attempt to clear the dirty thoughts of your girlfriend out of your mind, which you obviously fail at every time.

“Maybe I want you to take me home?” She smirks cheekily.

“Love, someone will catch on” You say seriously.

“Who cares, if it was up to me, I’d kiss you right now” She says confidently for once.

“Then do it” You challenge her, as soon as she hears those words your lips are connected, hands tangled in each other's hair and gripping the others clothes.

“Bathroom?” Aitana nods over to the bathroom which you both run off to, knowing that the team have definitely just seen what happened. You arrive in the bathroom and continue from where you left off minus a few items of clothing, until you’re interrupted by yelling.

“I KNOW WHAT YOU TWO ARE DOING, OUT!” Ona yells, banging on the outside of the bathroom cubicle door. You and Aitana both rush to put your discarded clothing back on and give her a quick peck before a lecture from Ona and most likely Alexia.

“I’m taking you home, now. And you, we will be talking about this” Ona frowns pointing at you, dragging Aitana away from you and outside of the club. Ingrid comes over and takes you away from the doorway whilst you’re protesting.

“Explain what the fuck just happened?” You say to Ingrid.

“Ona saw you two kissing out of nowhere and you both going off to the bathroom to do what she thought you would be doing, and she didn’t like it” Ingrid sighs with a sad smile.

“What did she think I was just gonna take advantage of Aitana?” You sigh.

“She’s protective of her best friend, you know that. She likes to keep an eye on Aitana for herself and Lucy and make sure she’s okay” Alexia chimes in, overhearing your conversation in the quiet corridor.

“Well clearly she’s not that observant” You laugh to yourself, the two girls look at you quizzically.

“We’ve been dating since that time I got her to take me on a tour of Barcelona?” You say to them, hoping they understand what you mean now. You can see the switch of them realising all of the signs they ignored over the last few months.

“Hold on, so it wasn’t some one night stand? The marks you had all over you the other week at training was from little innocent Aitana?” Alexia says shocked but seemingly impressed.

“Oh god, she’s far from innocent” You chuckle, thinking back to that night before training before receiving an elbow to the ribs from Mapi, who managed to sneak into the conversation behind you, without you realising. “I mean, no, we are saving it for marriage?” You joke.

“Someone needs to talk to Ona, our little Aitana has grown up” Mapi says whilst pretending to wipe a tear from her eye, Ingrid is already getting her phone out to call Ona to meet up and discuss the situation. After a while she finishes on the phone and says it’ll be best for you to all continue the conversation tomorrow before training, so you all call it a night after all of the drama.

━━━━━

The next day at training, luckily no one drank heavily so you’re all relatively in a good mood and good spirits for the training session you’re about to have. That is at least until Ona arrives with Aitana.

“Aita” You mumble quietly as she walks over to hug you tightly.

“Y/N, a word, alone?” Ona says sternly, nodding over to the side, you nod and follow her for privacy, your girlfriend giving you a look of concern as you walk away from her.

“Right, Aitana refused to talk about it, so go on Y/LN” Ona folds her arms.

“Aitana is my girlfriend and has been for a few months now” You bite back.

“Why didn’t you talk to me about it?” She asks.

“Because one, we wanted some privacy, and two, because I knew you’d act like this” You say, shaking your head at her.

“Like what?” She says angrily.

“Like someone who thinks I’m a fucking monster that’s going to break her heart? Ona, you’ve known me for years, come on now” You say “I know she’s your best friend but really?”. Ona’s head drops in realisation.

“Firstly…I’m sorry that I made you feel that way. Aitana was a mess after her last break up and I supported her the whole way, I couldn’t even imagine the thought of seeing her like that again. You’ve had your moments over the years but it was definitely wrong of me to assume the worst, I’m sorry” She sighs, realising you’re right.

“Thank you Ona, I really do care about her. Like a lot” You smile, leaning into the open arms of the girl.

“I know, come on, let's go see her then” She nods over at a worried looking Aitana, after hearing your raised voices.

“Hola bebita” She kisses your cheek and links her arm in yours.

“Ground rules, no pulling stunts like last night again” Ona says sternly to the both of you.

“What the sneaking off or the fact we were going to..well you know” You say embarrassed.

“Both” She smirks.

“Well unfortunately we regularly break one of those rules” Aitana winks at you, watching Ona work out which she meant.

“BONMATI NO” Ona yells after the shorter girl who has run off. Alexia comes over giggling at the sight of the two running around.

“What caused that?” Alexia chuckles.

“Oh Aita told Ona that we have sex regularly” You laugh, Alexia going wide eyed.

“Wait, you’ve had sex? Y/N ABSOLUTELY NOT!” She says now chasing after you. “You’re too young!”.

“ALE WE ARE BOTH 25 WHAT DO YOU MEAAAAAN” You yell laughing, trying to avoid the captain. Mapi stops you in your path.

“What is going on?” Frido asks from the side of Mapi.

“Y/N and Aitana are girlfriends AND they’ve had sex” Alexia says shocked with you rolling your eyes, Frido gasps.

“You’re too young for that!” Frido smacks your shoulder.

“We are both 25!” You frown laughing at the girl.

“You know what she means, we are all protective of our two babies, and now they’re….” Alexia shudders.

“Oh come on” You groan, Ona bringing Aitana over by her collar and many protests from Aitana.

“Come here often, chica?” You wink and flirt with Aitana who laughs.

“Actually quite a lot today it seems” She jokes.

“I think we’ve broken them all” You say looking around at your friends who are still confused by the relationship.

“Si, but not me. I had a feeling you two were up to something these last few weeks” Mapi grins.

“Wait what?” Ingrid says confused.

“Oh come on, no one noticed that at the last few parties they’d somehow manage to sneak off? Always together for everything? They have sleepovers?” Mapi says, shocked that no one else caught on. Everyone seems to hum in agreement and realisation. You grin at the group of girls around you whilst holding Aitana’s hand.

“What do you think they do at those sleepovers!” Ingrid says, groaning.

“WE ARE ADULTS WHO HAVE NEEDS” Aitana raises her voice.

“Exactly, and lucky for Aita I’m very good at fulfilling her needs” You tease, watching the older women of the group glare at you and Aitana grin.

“Right that’s enough” Alexia launches in your direction, grabbing the scruff of your shirt.

“Alexia please no!” You whine.

“10 laps, both of you” She says as you both groan. “And after training, you’re coming over to my apartment so we can go over some ground rules, and I want to get to know Y/N more as she is dating my Aitana” Alexia says.

After getting through the gruelling 10 laps underneath the Barcelona sun, you did keep your word and went over to Alexia’s apartment that same evening, to your surprise, it was a pleasant evening in which you gained her trust, and her blessing with ‘her Aitana’.

[chelseacult]

While You Were Sleeping

Aitana Bonmatí x Reader

Summary: post-movie date shenanigans

Word Count: 1.3k

The theater brightens as the ending credits roll. You begin to stir awake at the feeling of a gentle hand combing through your hair. Attempting to ignore all of the signs pointing toward your needing to get up, you nuzzle further into the plush leather seat. You feel movement in the seat next to you, followed by the press of soft lips against your forehead.  

“You missed the ending,” Aitana whispers quietly. You feel her smile against your forehead before pulling back a sliver, still hovering. The continuous movement of her fingers in your hair aids only in increasing your desire to fall back asleep. 

“Mmm. You should’ve woken me up,” you whisper back, tiredness evident in your voice. Her hand switches paths and moves to rest on your cheek, her thumb moving softly against your skin. 

“It is okay. I explain to you later.” She’s still speaking quietly as if trying not to startle you. You open your eyes to the sight of her smiling down at you. Her smile brightens when you give her a tired smile in return. 

“Bon dia, preciosa. Good sleep?” You nod, and your eyes flutter shut unconsciously. She makes a noise of disapproval, “Vinga, we need to go. They clean now.” She pulls away from you and stands up from her seat before turning to you. She raises an eyebrow when you make no move to stand up.

You sit up in your seat and reach out a hand towards her, wiggling your fingers, silently asking her to help you up. She rolls her eyes with a small smile and grasps your hand. Before she can attempt to help you up, you use your tangled fingers to pull her into you. She lets out a noise that sounds like a mix between a gasp and a laugh. Her free hand moves back to its rightful place in your hair while your arms wrap around her waist, grasping her shirt lightly. 

“I missed you,” you mumble before pecking her lips several times and pulling back.

“Cómo? I was here,” she laughs. She looks at you lovingly and starts to twirl a piece of your hair around her finger.

“You weren’t in my dream, so I missed you.” She laughs again and shakes her head before leaning forward to capture your lips again, a bit slower this time. You squeeze her hand lightly before she pulls away far too soon for your liking, leaving you to chase after her lips.

“I missed you too. And I miss how you talk during the movie,” she teases. You mock gasp and open your mouth to reply before the sounds of rolling carts and footsteps cut you off. Before you can even fully comprehend what you’re hearing, Aitana grabs your free hand and pulls you up, leading you both to the exit. “Mira! I told you. They clean.” 

“Takes two to tango, baby.” You let go of her hand despite her protest and rush to open the theater door for her. 

“You do not dance,” she responds with a slight pout, stopping to stand in front of you. 

You stifle a laugh and gesture outside the door. She ignores your silent request and steps closer to you instead. “You do not!” she reiterates. You ignore her retort and smile at her, making no effort to hide the admiration in your eyes. The corners of her mouth turn up into a small smile, matching adoration present in her eyes. You tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, and she leans into your touch. 

“You’re cute,” you say softly before leaning forward to press a quick kiss to her cheek. You gently push her out into the hallway before she can reply.

The faint smell of old popcorn and burnt butter takes over your senses as you walk past the concession stand. That, and the feeling of your girlfriend grabbing your hand. “We should see that next!” she gestures excitedly toward a horror movie poster.

“So you can hide in my shoulder the whole time?” you tease her with a smile. She blushes slightly before bumping her shoulder into yours. “No.” 

“Yes,” you press and bump her shoulder back.

“No. Only at home. The theater has a barrier, so I cannot reach you.” 

You chuckle lightly. “You’ll find a way. I have faith in you.” She drops your hand with a roll of her eyes and walks ahead to open the exit door for you, reversing the roles from earlier. 

“Mi amor,” she nods, a big smile on her face as she stands there holding the door. You smile back at her with a tilt of your head before thanking her. You walk out of the building, Aitana not far behind you. A chill takes over your body as a gust of wind comes by. 

“Told you so,” she quips from behind you, laughing affectionately under her breath. You open your mouth to reply but stop yourself upon feeling her touch on your shoulders. Her hands begin to follow a steady path up and down your arms, attempting to warm you up. The sweetness of the gesture causes warmth to swarm through your body, even more so than the gesture itself.

“Helping?” The smirk is evident in her voice. You hum in approval. “Remember I told you bring a jacket?”

“Mhm,” you hum again. “You’re always right, babe. Happy?”

“Yes, I am. Right and happy,” the midfielder says with a soft squeeze of your shoulders, leaning forward to kiss one of them. She wraps her arms around your waist and pulls you into her. “You make me happy,” she whispers in your ear. The feeling of her breath on your ear makes you shiver slightly again.

You turn around in her arms and wrap yours around her neck. That same adoration from earlier is back in Aitana’s eyes. Or maybe it never left. You’re sure it never leaves yours. You pull her closer to you and rest your forehead on hers. You can feel every breath she takes, and the warmth from the wool sweater she’s wearing radiates off of her. She closes her eyes as you gently scratch the back of her neck.

“I love you.” She doesn’t wait for you to say it back before she presses her lips to yours. Warmth once again engulfs your body to the point that you can’t believe you were ever cold. You smile into the kiss at her accented words, the declaration itself, the feeling of her hands squeezing your waist and her lips slowly moving against yours. Just her. 

You pull back hesitantly and open your eyes. She doesn’t let you go too far, keeping you close and resting her forehead on yours. There’s just enough space between your bodies to allow you to breathe out an “I love you” against her lips. She finally opens her eyes at that, and you share a smile as you both catch your breaths.

“Me more,” she counters. Your attempt to oppose her claim of loving you more comes to a halt when she pulls back a bit. A serious look befalls her features. 

“Okay, carinyo. Serious question for you now.” You might’ve been more nervous at her ominousness if it weren’t for her hands reaching down to play with yours. 

“What’s your question?”

She waits a beat. Her facade of seriousness starts to falter the longer she looks at you. 

“Do you remember where we parked the car?” she finally asks, dropping the serious act altogether and smiling at you.

You scoff but can’t help the laugh she pulls from you. Her laugh follows shortly after.

:)

[leahswife]

snuggles, cuddles and struggles

summary: aitana is a touchy person. she particularly likes to touch you. you have a crush and don't know how to deal with it. neither do your teammates.

the first time it happened, it took you by surprise. it wasn't that much of a big deal really, you and your team were on the bus back to the hotel after a match and you were all pretty exhausted. but when aitana lays her head on your shoulder and starts to doze off, there's a little nervous flutter that settles in your chest.

you knew aitana was not afraid to show affection, often clinging herself to keira or Ingrid but that wasn't the same situation for you. you could be affectionate with those you were close to, but often withheld being too touchy in fear of making others uncomfortable. 

this particular situation, however, was even more stressful to you as it had to do with aitana. the crush you had on the brunette was now holding you hostage, making you conscious of your every move or breath to not risk waking her up. what if aitana got uncomfortable, what if your shoulder was too bony, what if you forgot to put on deodorant after the quick shower? 

you looked over and aitana was breathing peacefully, eyes closed and asleep. you took a deep breath and pushed your unpleasant thoughts away, however you did not move an inch the whole ride back.

–

slowly but surely, you got used to having aitana attach herself to you. not too long after the bus nap on your shoulder, the girl was right at your side whenever it got too cold, holding on to your arm and pressing her cheek onto your shoulder to try and keep herself warm. she would grab your hand any time you were walking ahead of her to catch up with you. but the worst part was the nights out.

one night the whole team decided to go out for a very much needed break and within no time, drinks were being passed around the table you were all on. 

after a little while, some were on the dance floor and others by the bar just chatting. you were sat by the table, laughing with claudia and patri as you watched ingrid scolding mapi for jumping too much when she's still recovering from her latest injury, when suddenly a body drops on your lap.

"phew! it's too hot in here!" aitana huffed as she wrapped one arm around your neck and the other fanned her hand towards her face to cool down a bit. she was sitting sideways on your lap, without seemingly any care in the world while you just looked stunned. 

your ears quickly caught notice of the giggles coming from patri and claudia's way. you sent them a glare and gulped down the rest of your drink so you could feel a little more confident. you already had a little buzz going on so you tentatively put one of your hands on aitana's thigh and the other on her hip. this must have seemed like an invitation considering that it made aitana wrap both arms around your neck and wiggle on your lap to get closer to you.

"i'm tired." she groaned. you let out a small laugh and tapped her thigh, "well, when you're running around a field for 90 minutes and then dance throughout the night, i think it's bound to make you tired." aitana frowned at you, "but i have a lot of stamina." 

"why don't you go home and show her some of that stamina, chica?" patri shouted across the table, laughter in her voice. your eyes shoot daggers at the mallorquina whereas aitana looked confused. "qué?" aitana shouts back, clearly clueless of patri's suggestion. "don't mind her." you rolled your eyes and with some alcohol induced confidence, you grabbed aitana's jaw to turn her head back to you.

she was the one to look surprised now, eyes flickering to your lips and back to your eyes in a second. once you realized the position you had put yourself in, you tried to brush it off by gently shaking her head and letting go of her jaw, "by now you should know some of our teammates aren't the brightest." you smirked as patri's "hey!" can be heard. but aitana continued looking at you, seemingly breathless as what seemed like realization came across her face.

aitana cleared her throat and stood up "i should go home." she said, grabbing her purse in an haste. "but you were drinki-" you're cut off as aitana quickly states that ingrid and mapi are leaving and will take her. you watched her leave with a confused look and slightly anxious you went too far.

–

after that night, aitana appeared to back off her touching completely. well, off of you. now she went to keira to warm herself up or laid her head on ona's shoulder when she was tired. speaking to you also appeared to be a hard effort on her part and every time she would walk past you in the changing room without even a glance, you would sink back down on your cubbie like a kicked puppy. 

lucy had noticed both of your changes in behaviour, aitana's withdrawal and your yearning looks from afar. well, that last one had always been there but now it was just sad to watch. she sat down next to you and put her arm around your shoulders, "what's up, kid?" she asked, concerned. "nothing, grandma, what's up with you?" you shifted your gaze from aitana to lucy, an amused smile slowly forming on your face. lucy's worried look rapidly changed into a gloomy one, "ha ha, you're so funny. did i ever tell you you could be a comedian?" she said, sarcasm rolling off of her tongue as she pushed your shoulder. you giggled, "yes, you have. is your memory declining that fast?". she mocked your phrase, "iS yOuR MemOrY dEcLin– shut up." you gave her an innocent smile and a quick hug, "oh forgive me please, great lucy bronze." she rolled her eyes but eventually caved and dropped the grumpy face, "you coming out with us tonight?" "umm, i don't know, i–"

"she is!" pina pointed at you both. her loud tone drew some attention from the other girls, including aitana, who looked at you probably for the first time that day but quickly drew her gaze away. you noticed this, which brought back that weird rejection feeling in your chest even if you had nothing to be rejected about. 

"hey." lucy brought your attention back to her, "i think it will be good for you to come with us, okay? have a little fun, distract a little and if you want to, you can annoy me all night." she looked at you with a charming grin, pretty persuasive really. that managed to crack a smile out of you and you nodded, "deal."

–

you intended on getting absolutely smashed tonight. if aitana didn't want to talk to you or even interact with you anymore it's because you must've done something, right? you went too far or said something that weirded her out and now your friendship was ruined. so you were going to drink it out and try to forget all about it. 

you were about to begin your night's mission when patri walked over to you at the bar, "hey! i need a favour!" she shouted over the loud music. you looked at her, and waved off the bartender, "what is it?" you asked. she pointed in the direction of the bathroom, "can you go check if i left my purse in the toilet? i've been trying to find it everywhere, i'm gonna go check on one of the other rooms now so can you do me this favour, pleeease?" she begged, trying her best to look desperate.

to be fair, you knew that she would insist even if you refused so it didn't take much convincing for you to nod and walk over to the bathroom. 

when you got in, however, you realized why patri had "assigned" you the bathroom to look for her "lost" purse.

aitana was standing by the sink when she realized you walked in. her eyes went wide for a second, probably startled to see you and proceeded to wipe her hands and make her way to the door.

"no." you stood by the door, blocking her way out. you don't know where this new-found confidence came from, maybe the adrenaline of being alone with aitana, or the pent up frustration and yearning that she caused over the last few weeks but you were glad it was here, and you were gonna ride it out for as long as you could. "why have you been ignoring me?" you asked, your eyes fixed on aitana's.

"i haven't been ignoring you." 

"you have."

"i haven–"

"aita, stop." she opened and immediately closed her mouth. "tell me please whatever i did wrong. i promise you that if i just knew, i'd take it back. I'd take back whatever i did a million times if it meant you got to talk to me again." you rambled on, no filter whatsoever.

"you did nothing wrong." she answered quietly. "then why did you ice me out? you don't talk to me, you barely look at me and you never touch me anymore. i don't understand what happened." you blurted out, distressed. she looked up at you with guilt plastered on her face.

you saw her struggle internally as she sighed, covered her face with her hands and walked around the bathroom before returning to stand in front of you. "that other night." she started, "i felt something." she looked away from you, "i mean. i had already felt something before, but that night, when you grabbed me, i– i dont know. i realized something."

what? that you didn't matter? that you were ugly? your mind started thinking of the worst scenarios but when she saw you the fear in your face, she immediately interjected, "it's nothing bad! i promise." she put her hand on your arm, the first time she'd touched you in a while. 

"i realized why i was clinging to you so much. i know that i am a touchy person but with you, it was just… different." you frowned in confusion but nodded at her to keep going, "i want to touch you all the goddamn time. not just at training or after a game, i mean i want to hold you and be held by you while we fall asleep. i want to hold your hand when we go for walks, i want you to hug me while i cook dinner or when we're watching scary movies, i just – i want you." she finished with a sigh, an agitated look on her face as she stared into your eyes.

you were speechless. aitana wanted you? the same way you wanted her? 

when she saw you kept being silent after a while, she continued,  "i'm sorry for distancing myself, but these feelings… they are new to me. i didn't know what to do with them, how to approach you, if i should tell you, i was scared you didn't feel the sa–"

"can i kiss you?" you interrupted.

"what?" she asked quietly, shock all over her face. 

you put your hands on the back of her neck, slightly tugging on her hair, so her head turns upwards to you. you lean closer, lips almost brushing hers, "i asked if i could –" you were cut off by aitana's lips pressing yours with urgency. she grabbed your waist, strong arms pulling you closer. you sighed in pleasure within the kiss, which prompted her to stick her tongue into your mouth. you tugged on her hair a little harder and pressed your tongue against hers. you pulled away to take a breath and grabbed her jaw, a cocky smirk forming on your face when her hooded eyes filled with lust, "this is what made you realize you wanted me?" she nodded, breathless. you pulled her in and gave her a hard kiss, teeth and tongues clashing together before you pulled away again.

"i am so glad patri made me come look for her lost purse."

"huh? lucy told me to come find her lost purse."

a/n: idk if some expressions are used correctly, english is not my first language so if u guys have anything point at, my asks are open :) also i didn't proof read sorry i finished this pretty late and im sleepy 🤪✌️

[pitchsidestories]

wouldn't change a thing II Ona Batlle x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1415

a/n: dear readers, we hope you'll enjoy the oneshot which is inspired by this lovely request here. 💗💗

Being relatively tall for a woman had its advantages, you had to admit. Especially when you played for Barcelona and their dressing room wasn’t designed for the average female body height.

In contrast to your several inches shorter girlfriend, you could reach all the shelves with ease.

But you and Ona had established a routine by now. After every training, she would wait for you to hand her the towels, so she didn’t have to climb up on the bench to reach them.

You had decided that the injury risk was way too high and offered to do it for her. Your height had to be good for something.

As usual, you also handed her the towels after todays’ training as well: “Here you go.“

“Thank you.“, Ona smiled and pushed herself against you for a hug.

“You’re welcome.“, you replied as you held her close to you.

You pressed a quick kiss to her temple as she was the perfect height for it and brushed a few stray hair from her forehead.

Mapi giggled from the other side of the dressing room: “You’re too tall for your girlfriend, y/n!”

You grimaced at the defender: “If that’s the case, then Ingrid is too tall for you too.“

“I can reach my own stuff.“, Mapi shrugged.

“So can I but sometimes it’s just easier that way.“, Ona replied unimpressed and threw the towel over her shoulder.

Alexia joined the conversation, a sly smirk on her face: “Oh please, everyone knows that Ona loves the princess treatment.“

“She can’t get enough of it.“, Aitana agreed with a laugh.

Ona rolled her eyes, way too used to their teasing: “Guys.“

“Yeah, it’s not that funny.“, you sided with your girlfriend.

Mapi shook her head, still grinning: “I think it is.“

You sighed: “Of course you do.“

You knew what was coming. As soon as one started, the others would join immediately. It was some kind of weird Barcelona Femeni love language. You quietly braced yourself for the bad jokes that would inevitably be coming.

“Are you even allowed to wear heels when you go out with Ona?”, Cata asked. She was already wheezing about her own joke.

“You’re definitely more likely to see me in heels than Oni.“, you smiled back at her. Ona loved her sneakers, you loved a good pair of heels, height difference or not.

Cata continued: “Poor Ona is even smaller then. But at least you two don’t bump heads when you go dancing.“

“But I always find her in any crowd.“, Ona shrugged, winking at you.

“And Ona is the perfect height for hugs.“, Fridolina chimed in, sounding more delighted than taunting.

“She is.“, you confirmed.

“So cute with your matching opposite aesthetics.”, Salma commented with a huge smirk on her lips.

“Salma don’t.”, Mapi warned, clearly fearing the tall forward would stop the banter with her observation.

“Why?  It’s very opposite.”, she chuckled.

Meanwhile, you turned around to face your girlfriend. “Are you ready to go, Oni?”

No words were needed for her to answer the question, she simply jumped on to your back grinning.

While you made sure she was positioned safely, the brunette murmured into your ear. The smile carried through the voice. “Ready.”

Both of you said your goodbye to your teammates, when you were almost at the door Vicky yelled smiling. “Bye, princess.”

“They’re such idiots.”, Ona sighed.

“I love them though despite the teasing.”, you admitted.

“Yeah, me too. It’s a normal height difference though, they’re just annoying.”, she said.

You nodded in agreement. “True.”

“Let’s just go home.”, the defender suggested in a longing tone, nothing sounded better in her ears than having a good dinner and afterwards being cozy on the sofa with her dog and you.

Noticing the dreamy look in your girlfriends’ eyes you decided. “Yes, please. I’ll drive, you already look a bit sleepy.”

“Okay. Fine, I won’t complain.”, Ona answered.

“Good.”

The two of you got into your shared car while the fellow football player started the music playlist, she couldn’t help but to tease you. “Even though you drive horrible.”

“Excuse me? Your fast driving isn’t better.”, you protested laughing.

“I drive well.”, the defender countered.

“Do I’ve to remind you of-“, you begun.

“I’m quiet.”, Ona interrupted you softly. 

Fast forward and it was the night of the Ballon d’Or.

Sadly, not many of the female players could attend the event because it was set during the national team break, but a few of your club teammates and you were able to.

On the other hand, the gala wasn’t known in its history to be this supportive of women footballers in general.

Surrounded by the nominated female players you put on your high heels who gave you the needed confidence boost and calmed your nerves for the moment.

“You look gorgeous.”, Ona whispered admiringly, tiptoeing to place a heartfelt kiss to your lips.

“So do you.”, you told her and meant every word, your girlfriend wore her beautiful long wavy hair open, only slight make up, so her natural beauty shone through even more and the defender was in an outfit she felt comfortable in.

“Naw.”, Aitana remarked.

Impatiently Caroline threw in. “Can you two love birds hurry up now?”

“We’re good to go.”, you assured the Norwegian.

“Finally.”, Alexia noted happily.

“Come on, we can’t be late.”, Aitana reminded everyone urgently.

“Coming.”, you tried to soothe the small midfielder.

As you followed her, Ona interlaced her fingers with yours and whispered: “Don’t let go of my hand.“

“I won’t. Nervous?”, you quietly asked.

She shook her head: “Not at all.“

“Me neither. It’s between Caro and Aitana.“

“We’ll see.“, she replied earnestly which caused you to pause and raise your eyebrow at her.

“What? They’re simply the best, Ona?”

She turned back to you with a frown: “I didn’t say that they are not.“

“You would have deserved a nomination too.“

She shrugged nonchalantly: “I don’t care about this award to be honest. Defenders usually don’t win.“

“It’s not fair.“, you complained on her behalf.

“It’s fine.“, she assured you.

You pulled her in for a hug. First you wanted to press a kiss to her forehead but remembering your lipstick, you thought better of it: “You’re still the best.“

She chuckled lightly, brown eyes shining brightly as she looked up at you: “You’re too sweet.“

“Girls, time to pose together. And stop that teeth rotting sweet talk!”, Alexia called over to them, right before she stepped on the red carpet.

“We’re not doing anything.“, Ona blinked innocently while the two of you joined the group standing in front of the photographers.

“Lies.“, Caroline said through her teeth.

“Just smile for the camera.“, Aitana ordered.

You did as you were told, before taking your seats at the ceremony. You politely applauded for every winner and cheered whenever your teammates were onstage but with every passing hour you could feel Ona getting more impatient.

“Glad we’re done with this.“, she jokingly sighed as the ceremony ended and people moved on to the afterparty.

“Sounds like someone wants to go home.“, you grinned.

Nodding, Ona bit her lip: “Yes, my girlfriend looks so hot and I really don’t feel like sharing tonight.“

“Oh, you don’t?“, you teased but just like her, you didn’t mind skipping the party and go straight back to your hotel room.

“No.“

Hand in hand, you snuck out of the building and hailed the next cab. You scrolled through several social media posts of the Ballon d’Or on the drive back. Of course, you couldn’t help but check the comments too and they were exactly what you expected.

You chuckled softly: “They write so much bullshit, amor.“

“Let me see.“, Ona demanded as she scooted closer to have a look at your phone screen.

“They’re still commenting about our height difference.“, you grinned. “Seems to bother them a lot more than us.“

“Right? Let them keep talking, I don’t care.“, Ona laughed and leaned over to kiss you.

The cab stopped in front of your hotel. You could barely wait to go inside.

A few years ago, comments like these would have plunged you into self-doubt, wishing you were a few inches shorter. But not since Ona came into your life.

With Ona you felt confident and desired, not despite but because of your height. They could say what they wanted, all you could see in those photos was a couple that matched each other perfectly.

gif source: https://www.tumblr.com/batlleonafc/748573331298697216/her-smile-lights-up-every-room?source=share

[b14augrana]

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.

[wosokisses]

Maybe Home Isn’t Far Away At All (Aitana Bonmatí x Lioness!Reader)

Part Two - Team Bonding and Confessions // Series Masterlist

Warnings/Notes: None.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

You spent the first week of living with Ona getting into a routine and readying yourself to officially join the club. Living with Ona was nice, comfortable even, she was welcoming and friendly to the point you wanted for nothing.

You’d fully settled with Ona now, slipping easily into a routine together. The two of you had become inseparable, always hanging out together. To the point you two could be cuddled up watching tv and she’d be on face time to lucy. You had become an eternal third wheel to their relationship, though you didn’t mind they were cute after all.

As the end of the week began approaching, Ona had come to you telling you her house was being chosen for the Barca groups team bonding before the season started up again. To say you were nervous was an understatement, you had always prepped yourself to meet them on your first day. Not in your own home days before.

When the night eventually rolled around Ona had reassured you, they’d love you, commenting you already knew Keira but the wincing when she remembered the tension between the two of you right now. You let out a shaky breath assuring her it was fine, but she wasn’t stupid she could tell it wasn’t.

Before she could speak up again, the doorbell rang and a chorus of loud voiced down the hall after she opened the door. You took a deep breath to steady yourself smiling somewhat forcefully as introductions began to fly. Then everything stopped, like time froze the second you saw her.

“Hola!” she greeted, her voice welcoming and warm though a soft flush was settling on her cheeks matching your own as you locked eyes.     

The rest of the night went in a similar fashion, the two of you blushing and stumbling over shy words to each other. It was Obvious to everyone what was happening, and they thought it was hilarious. Half of them wanting to meddle and get you together and the other half more than amused watching the two of you figure it all out.

-

The following week was your first at the training grounds, and you were full of nerves and excitement. Ona drove you both there and you where immediately dragged into the group of the girls, all of them eagerly chatting away and welcoming you as you got changed into your training gear. What you didn’t see was the way Aitana was staring at you the whole time, psyching herself up to come over to talk to you again. Despite having been thinking of you since the team bonding night, she couldn’t think of a thing to say to you that wasn’t embarrassing.

Meanwhile, you sat with Mapi, Ingrid and Ona laughing and joking, making up a plan to go for the four of you to go out to eat. Ona pointing out that she’d be less of a third wheel if you came too this time.

Overhearing that Aitana couldn’t help but to smile, knowing you were single gave her a little more confidence to come over and talk to you. But not now, not today she would have to spend today thinking about what to say that wouldn’t sound incredibly cheesy.

You were more occupied making friends with these people, knowing first hand how well it goes if the new teammate spends the first week making bonds and getting to know their teammates. So far you had spent time with most of the team bar Keira, Aitana and Alexia. You had been avoiding Keira for obvious reasons, she was close with Leah and had been icy since the changing room incident. Plus, Lucy had told you Keira was being a little off, having got the information from Ona before you moved over.

Aitana, well you were worried if you went over to talk to her, you’d freeze up or be a stuttering mess. You were just so thankful for the alcohol present at the team bonding that allowed you to get through the interactions with her without making a total idiot out of yourself and you could blame the blush on the alcohol.

As for Alexia, she was honestly quite intimidating. She had been friendly enough at the team bonding night, from the small interactions you had. But to talk to her one on one? Terrifying. You knew you needed to, after all pissing of your captain by avoiding her was not the ideal first impression so you came up with a plan. You asked her if she could help you practice, and she happily agreed partnering up with you and kicking the ball back and forth as you talked.

“Ona told me,” she starts as she shoots the ball towards you, “About what happened with your old team… I’m sorry” she nods apologetically towards you kicking the ball back as you send it rolling to her.

“Don’t be” you shake your head chuckling though there is no humour in it, “It’s not like it your fault” you look down focusing on the ball sadly.

She seems to get the hint then that this is not something your exactly ready to talk about right now. So, she changes the subject a sly smirk gracing her features. “So, when are you and Tana going to ask each other out already? Huh?”

A shocked yelp escapes you and you almost miss the ball, kicking it back a little too hard as you deny it, but she doesn’t believe you not one bit. No, she simply chuckles at your panicked state as you ramble out excuses.

“N-no I don’t- What!? I mean- Of course I Like her she’s nice! And pretty and she makes me feel all weird but that doesn't mean-“ you pause mid-sentence, eyes narrowing as you see Alexia struggling not to laugh and the lack of the ball being passed. You deadpan with a heavy sigh and speak up, “She’s behind me isn’t she….” You huff shooting her a disapproving look as she finally lets out a laugh.

Turning around you come face to face with a blushing Aitana. “I was coming over to ask you to dinner but I feel like I already know the answer now” she jokes and you’re bright red now and u let out a squeaky “I’d love to” your embarrassment heavily evident and spurred on by Alexia’s howling laughter and Aitana’s failure to hide her own amusement.

You clear your throat and huff, “I would love to” you speak up, a lot more determined this time, and she smiles softly at you. Internally cooing at how cute you are, and she nods, leaning in to kiss your cheek telling you she’ll text you the details.

You now stud there wide eyed and flushed cheeked, hand coming up to touch the cheek she just kissed. Alexia chuckles as she walks over to you and slaps her hand on your back, “C’mon lover girl lets get back to work.”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

A/N: Little shorter than part one because i had the biggest writers block for this haha

[didalexiabreakupwitholgaisback]

alexia in her pink pilates princess era 💅

what's on your spotify daylist with barça? 🎵 🎶

source: fcbfemeni on instagram

[meazalykov]

first lady

barcelona femeni x uswnt!reader

summary: the girls give you a nickname for being the first american on the senior team

the day you arrive at barcelona feels like a dream. the journey from being just another girl playing in american youth leagues to standing in the famed blaugrana colors is something you never imagined happening. 

you walk into the training grounds two days after your signing was official, trying to keep your nerves in check. the weight of being the first american on barcelona femení’s senior team presses on your shoulders. 

keep in mind you’re the first american on the senior team.. there is an american at la masia, onyeka, who you’ve been in contact with– you hope to play with her someday. she has been telling you about the fun experience playing in barcelona. 

you’re humble but you can’t wait to see what onyeka is talking about. 

the first person you meet is alexia. she approaches you with a calm confidence, her presence demanding respect even though she doesn’t say much at first. 

“bienvenida,” she says simply, her smile small but warm. it’s clear she’s sizing you up, trying to see if you’re up to the challenge. there’s no coldness in her eyes though, just curiosity.

you return the smile, trying not to seem too overwhelmed. 

“gracias. it’s an honor to be here.”

“we’ll see how you do in training,” she says shortly after she gets to know you, teasing, but the underlying tone is serious. 

alexia is known for her dedication, and she’s testing you without even needing to. her acceptance means everything here.

from that moment, she takes you under her wing. she doesn’t hover or smother, but she’s there when you need her on and off of the pitch. during drills, she’s quick to offer tips, showing you the ropes of how barcelona plays—fluid, fast, and always a step ahead. 

it’s a steep learning curve, but you thrive on it. your dribbling skills, honed from years of street-style play and youth development back in the states, shine here in ways even you didn’t expect.

you notice the way some of your teammates watch you closely at first—wondering if you’ll live up to the hype. the media had already dubbed you the "american girl version of ronaldinho" for your flair and trickery with the ball, and it seems the team had caught wind of the nickname, too. 

slowly, as you start dancing past defenders in the league and champions league— leaving them in your wake.

the skepticism by the team fades, replaced by respect.

alexia seems particularly impressed by your ball control. during the first el clasico, after you nutmeg two defenders and finish with a perfect strike, she pulls you aside. 

“not bad,” she says, though her smirk tells you she’s genuinely impressed. 

“keep playing like that, and you’ll fit in here just fine.”

you start to settle in over the next few weeks. the locker room becomes a second home, the banter flowing easier as the language barrier fades.

 you’re still working on your spanish, but with every day, you pick up more phrases, understanding the jokes, and joining in on the conversations. 

the younger players, especially vicky, start warming up to you quickly. she loves your laid-back vibe, but also the intensity you bring on the field.

alexia, though, remains your closest connection. she never hesitates to correct you or push you harder in training. she also pulls you into the social side of the team. the late-night dinners, the coffee stops after practice, the little moments that build a bond off the pitch as much as on it.

two months in, you feel like you’ve found your place. the media continues to talk about your dribbling, and your presence as the first american on the team still makes headlines. 

the comparisons to ronaldinho haven’t stopped, though they’ve started to bother you less. you just want to be seen as you—not a copy of someone else, no matter how legendary.

it is after one particularly grueling training session that the idea of a new nickname starts floating around the locker room. 

you’re outside on the pitch with patri, perfecting your penalties while the rest of the team heads into the locker room. 

inside, vicky, ellie, and ewa sit around, chatting while everyone cools down.

“so, what do you think we should call her?” vicky asks, leaning back against her locker. 

“i mean, she’s amazing, but we can’t keep calling her ‘the american ronaldinho.’”

“yeah, she’s her own player,” ellie agrees. 

“we need something that fits her.”

ewa, sitting across from them, grins. 

“but it has to tie in with her being american, right? i mean, it’s a big deal. maybe not to her– but she’s the first american to play on the senior team for the women.”

ellie nods, deep in thought. 

“maybe something with ‘first’? i mean, she is the first…”

they go back and forth for a while, throwing out suggestions. nothing seems to stick, though, until ewa suddenly straightens up, her face lighting up like she’s cracked the code.

“wait, i’ve got it,” she says, snapping her fingers.

“how about ‘first lady’?”

the room goes quiet for a second as everyone processes it.

pina raises an eyebrow. 

“first lady? like... the president’s wife?”

ewa shrugs, still grinning. 

“yeah, but think about it. she’s the *first* american on the team. it’s perfect. and it’s an american term, so it’s fitting.

"plus, y/n got elegance on the ball." patri notes.

slowly, the others start to nod, the idea settling in. salma, sitting on the opposite side of the room, lets out a laugh. 

“that’s genius. she’s literally our ‘first lady.’”

before long, everyone’s onboard, laughing and testing out the nickname as they get ready to head out. 

the whole team seems to love it, and as they file out of the locker room, they’re excited to see how you’ll react.

meanwhile, you’re still out on the pitch, working through your penalties with patri. by the time you make your way back inside, you’re sweaty and tired, but satisfied with the extra work. as you step into the locker room, you immediately notice the way everyone is looking at you, a few smirking, some trying not to laugh.

salma is the first to break. 

“hey, ‘first lady,’ how’d the penalties go?”

you blink in confusion, pausing mid-step. 

“wait, what?”

salma grins wider, the rest of the team now barely holding back their laughter. 

“you know, ‘first lady,’ since you’re the first american here.”

it takes a second for it to click, but when it does, you burst out laughing, doubling over as you process the absurdity of it. 

“first lady? seriously?”

the whole room erupts into laughter with you, and suddenly, it feels right. the nickname sticks, and soon, it’s all anyone calls you. 

at first, it’s a playful joke, but after a few weeks, you realize it’s become your new identity within the team. 

even mapi starts using it, giving you a teasing smirk during passing drills.

“first lady, over here!” she calls during one session, and you can’t help but shake your head, grinning.

as the season rolls on, you know you’ll keep proving that you’re not just the first american here—you’re their first lady.

masterlist

[woso-dreamzzz]

Ma'am: Christmas

Aitana Bonmatí x Royal!Reader

Summary: Christmas in the Ma'am Universe

"Is it worth setting Real Madrid on fire?" You wonder aloud as you lay across three different seats in the friends and family box, throwing a tennis ball up and down thoughtfully.

"I'm afraid that might cause a diplomatic incident, ma'am," Your ever present bodyguard says gruffly," It doesn't belong to you."

You sigh, long and drawn out. "I guess." You think for a moment before sitting up. "Should I buy it? And then set it on fire?"

Your bodyguard, tall and serious and dressed entirely in black and wearing shades you're ninety percent sure means he can't see anything when the sun goes down, doesn't even let his lip twitch. You suppose he's meant to be intimidating with his stocky shoulders and large frame but he's holding your puppy Rufus, fast asleep in his arms, and shivering slightly in the cold air.

"Well?"

He sighs. "Why would you want to do that, ma'am?"

"For a Christmas present. For Aitana. It would make her happy, I think. For Real Madrid not to exist anymore."

"Has Her Royal Highness asked you that?"

"Well...no...but-"

"Then perhaps it's best that you refrain from that, ma'am."

You huff. "I don't think I want you holding the prince anymore."

That manages to get an upwards quirk of the lip from him though as you take poor sleepy Rufus from his arms. "Don't worry, Rufus," You whisper to him as you both watch Aitana walk onto the pitch with the team," We'll find something for your Mami that she'll love for Christmas."

Christmas for you have always involved pomp and ceremony and now that includes Aitana too. The family had their traditions and you were expected to abide by them.

Aitana hadn't really thought about how her life would change by marrying you. A lot of it hadn't. She could stay in Spain and with Barcelona and still play football. She could come home to the apartment you and her lived in with yappy little Rufus where you'll be at the stove, cooking up some monstrosity that she would eventually save you from after showering.

But this was Christmas and you were both expected at the Sandringham Estate to celebrate with the family so it wasn't going to be a quiet, private Christmas spent with just the two of you.

You had your traditions, which is what Aitana assumed this was.

"A present? It's the start of December."

"I can't give my wife a gift?"

No matter how many times you said it, Aitana could never stop the smile appearing on her face at that word.

Wife.

Your wife.

It was the new title that Aitana loved the most.

Because that was what she was.

Your wife.

"I...I haven't gotten you anything extra," She says," Was I meant to?"

You shake your head, pressing a soft, chaste kiss to her lips. "I'm the one that's changing Christmas for you. It's going to be different this year so I'm sorry. It's the least I could do."

"You're so sweet."

You grin. "I was planning on setting Real Madrid on fire but I was persuaded not to."

Aitana laughs, another kiss landing on you.

The gifts pile up after that.

For every day leading up to Christmas. Not one day is missed and you're both there to watch her open it, in front of the Christmas tree and happy little Rufus and his silly little puppy smile.

Jewellery, clothes and more practical things like a new pair of boots because her own were getting worn out or a book series she'd only mentioned wanting once in parting.

The gifts piled up and you didn't even seem to care for anything in return except for maybe a kiss.

"Tell me what we're doing later," Aitana says as you both lay back on the bed in the private jet," What should I expect?"

You'd delayed it as long as possible, letting Aitana have that private holiday season she had wanted. But you couldn't delay it forever so early Christmas Eve, had you both (and Rufus) flying back to England to join your family.

Aitana's fingers trace a pattern over the skin of your arm as you relax back into the pillows.

"Well William likes to play a game of football before dinner," You tell her," I expect you to show him how it's done and win. He's so excited to see your skills up close. But he'll be wearing stupid Aston Villa socks so be sure to tell him he looks stupid."

"So win a football match? I can do that."

"We do presents on Christmas Eve too. And then when all the kids go to bed we have a black tie dinner. I checked with Father though and our son can stay up and come."

Aitana laughs. "You don't have to keep referring to Rufus as our son, you know."

You frown. "Why wouldn't I? He is our son."

She laughs again. "What's next? Christmas Day? What do we do then?"

"Well, we usually go to a Christmas service but you don't have to come if you don't want to. After that, we'll have to go back to Buckingham Palace. That's where Father wants to broadcast his speech from this year."

"And we're coming too?"

You grin at her, biting your lip and leaning close to whisper in her ear. "I'm saving up a present for you. But you can't tell anyone."

"I can keep a secret."

And it's a secret Aitana does keep for the next day.

She does end up on a cold, English football pitch against your eldest brother and she does end up humiliating him much to your delight.

She plays circles around everyone like the professional she is and chooses William wearing the Barcelona kit instead of his favoured Aston Villa one as her forfeit.

Her pile of presents is large and not even all of them are from you but the ones that are, are her favourite.

Your own presents range from things you actual enjoy and want (from people like your father and auntie Anne) to gag gifts like one particular shirt planted with Aitana's face from your brother that you wear proudly before being forced to take it off for dinner.

"See," You whisper to Aitana with a grin," Not all English food is bad."

She looks down at her roast thoughtfully and purses her lips, fighting back a smile.

You poke her cheek. "Is that a grin? Is it? I think it is! I knew I would convince you one day!"

Aitana allows a weak smile on her face. "There's outliers in every cuisine," Is all she offers," I stand by what I said. Spanish food is better."

"Yeah," You laugh," That's why you've been eating all the Yorkshire puddings."

"They're nice! You should make these at home."

You kiss her hand with a wink. "As Her Royal Highness commands."

It's not the first time Aitana's been to Buckingham Palace but there's a different feel to it during the holidays. There's a tree in practically every room and festive lights hung up everywhere they can be fit.

You're giggling as you lead her through the halls, a pretty smile on your red cheeked face. You had a bit of liquid courage earlier in the form of a spiked eggnog that Kate had given to you before you and Aitana set off back to London with your father and his wife.

"Where are we going?" Atiana giggles as well," What is it?"

"Okay," You say, finally skidding to a halt in front of a pair of ornate doors," Close your eyes."

"You can't be serious-"

"Please? It'll ruin the surprise!"

"Fine."

Atiana closes her eyes and allows you to lead her into the room.

"Careful," You warn her," We're going up some steps. And then turn...Yeah, like that...And sit."

"Can I open my eyes now?"

"Just give me a moment."

Something is placed on her head and Aitana gets the feeling that she knows where she is.

"Okay," You say," Open."

You're on your knees in front of her, head pillowed on her thigh as you sit between her legs on the little dais.

"Beautiful," You say.

"You know I'm not meant to be sitting on this," Aitana says though she makes no movement to lift herself off the throne.

"But it suits you."

Aitana hums, lips pressed together thoughtfully as you plant a small kiss on the inside of her thigh. "You spoil me."

"Yes."

She frowns. "You'd do anything I asked."

"Don't say it like it's a bad thing," You say, eyes wide earnestly," It's not a bad thing. I'll do anything for you."

"Even now?"

You nod. "Even now."

Aitana grins at you, some of her own liquid courage swirling around her body as she widens her legs and fists her hand in your hair.

"I think you know where I want you."

[pollitodesplumado]

Bonmatellas es arte ✨

[theuntoldstorythatneedsawriter]

Parents 👪

Aitana Bonmati x reader

warning : fluffy 💭💗

You’d been looking forward to this day for a while—the day you’d finally introduce Aitana to your parents. She’d been nervous all week, asking endless questions about what your family was like, what to expect, and—most importantly—if they’d like her. You reassured her over and over, telling her they’d love her as much as you did.

The evening was going well so far. Aitana had brought flowers for your mom and was charming her way through small talk, finding little things to compliment in your parents' home. Your dad was a bit quieter, sizing her up, as dads often do, and finally leaned over the dinner table, clearly ready to get to know her a bit better.

“So, Aitana,” he said, giving her a friendly but curious look, “what do you do?”

Aitana smiled politely and replied, “I’m a professional footballer.”

Your dad raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting that answer. He nodded slowly, processing it before asking, “Football, huh? And you play in Spain?”

“Yes,” she answered, her voice steady but humble. “I play for Barcelona. I’ve been there my whole career.”

Your dad’s interest piqued, but he still looked a bit skeptical. “Alright… So have you won anything?”

You could see Aitana fighting back a grin, glancing at you before she answered, “Yes. Actually… I’m a two-time Ballon d’Or winner.”

There was a beat of silence as your dad’s eyes widened, clearly taken aback. He looked at you, almost as if he needed confirmation that he’d heard her right, and you just grinned, nodding.

“A two-time… Ballon d’Or?” he repeated, as if to make sure he hadn’t misheard. “You mean… the award for the best football player in the world?”

Aitana nodded, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. “Yes, sir. I won my second one recently.”

Your dad blinked, clearly stunned. “Well, I’ll be…” He looked at your mom, then back at Aitana, suddenly a bit more starstruck. “And here I was, thinking football was just a little side hobby or something! That’s incredible, Aitana. I don’t think I’ve ever met a world-class athlete before.”

Aitana chuckled, clearly relieved he wasn’t intimidated, and replied, “Thank you. It’s a big honor, and I’m very grateful to be able to play at this level.”

Your dad’s expression softened, his respect for her clearly growing by the second. “Well, we’re very proud to have you here tonight, Aitana. And we’re proud of our daughter, too, for bringing someone so talented—and humble—home to meet us.”

You watched as Aitana smiled, her cheeks glowing with warmth and gratitude. When she reached for your hand under the table, giving it a gentle squeeze, you knew she felt at home. And in that moment, you realized that any nerves or worries she had before were gone. This was where she belonged—by your side, part of your family.

[me-loving-woso]

Today. Tomorrow.

Author's note: Hi everyone! So I know I've been MIA for several months. But I'm back! This fic will be divided into 3 parts cause I've realized that I can't write a short one-shot. In no way am I an expert in medicine. The information is from Greys Anatomy and the internet. I apologise in advance if I offend anyone Summary: You never thought you'd find love under these circumstances, but sometimes, love works in mysterious ways. For you, it came in the form of Aitana Bonmatí.

TW: Illness, Cancer, Surgery, Happy Ending

You've just returned to Barcelona after being away due to your job. You were an art restorer and had established a small company with some friends from university. While you specialized in medieval and Renaissance art, your three partners specialized in Japanese art, antique jewelry, and ancient Egyptian art. Your company's diverse expertise made you wanted all around the world. 

Although managing such a company and traveling extensively at 26 was demanding, you wouldn't trade it for anything. You loved your job and your colleagues, who were also your best friends. Supporting each other through thick and thin made this life worthwhile for you.

That morning, you were driving to your next job. FC Barcelona, yes, the football club wanted you to restore and polish their trophies. They were meticulous about their trophies, and despite the unnecessary level of care, they requested your services every year to maintain them. It was lucrative work with minimal effort. Even though you weren't specialized in that type of restoration, you were willing to assist your colleague and friend with the task since you had little else to do.

As you parked near the Barcelona training grounds, about to pull up the parking brake, you heard an unpleasant sound, like glass breaking, from the back of your car. You hoped it wasn't what you feared. Taking a deep breath, you checked the other side of your car, hoping it was just your imagination. But as soon as you saw the damage and a small woman approaching you with a mortified expression, you knew the worst had happened. She had hit your car. This couldn't have happened at a worse time.

Walking up to the culprit, you were angry. She was about to speak, but you cut her off. "Sorry, miss. How many fingers am I holding up?" You politely showed her two fingers.

Looking baffled, she replied, "Two?"

"Oh, so you have eyes!" you retorted sarcastically. "I guess an SUV right in front of you was too small for you to see." Your anger was palpable.

"I'm so sorry. I-I was overthinking and didn't turn the handlebar all the way to the right," she stammered apologetically. You could see she was genuinely sorry, but in that moment, you didn't care.

"They should revoke your driver's license. You're a menace," you said, crossing your arms and returning to your car. Taking out the accident report, you said, "Let's fill out the accident report so I can be done with you." She nodded sadly and helped you complete the report.

You knew you were being unfair to her. Stuff happens, but this one was the final straw for you.

As you started filling out the report, you noticed her coming back towards you. Despite her being attractive and all, you were too mad to give a damn. Once you wrapped up your part, you handed her the report to fill out while you rang up your insurance company.

After a couple of minutes of you dialing your mechanic and finishing off the paperwork, you said goodbye to the lady and headed to the Barcelona training grounds.

While you were hanging around, you checked out all the team photos with the trophy. The left side had all the guys' photos, with Messi and the 2009 team, while the right side was all about Barcelona Femeni. Your father was a die-hard Barcelona fan; back in the day, you'd go to some games with him. But when you hit high school, you kinda lost interest in football.

As you spotted last year's Ballon d'Or picture, you suddenly recognized her, which made you laugh out loud. You had just had a small car accident with none other than the Ballon d'Or winner, Aitana Bonmatì.

You thought she looked familiar, but it didn’t really click at the time. Well, at least she's better with her feet than with a steering wheel.

When Eva finally showed up at the training grounds, you rushed over to her.

"Hey Y/n, how's it going?" she greeted.

"I'm good. Some car bumped into me about ten minutes ago, but I'm all right."

"Wait what?!" Eva exclaimed, shocked. Since she found out about your condition and all, she's been super protective. "Are you sure you're okay? Do I need to go all out on someone?"

"The damage ain't that bad. And you'll never guess who I had the run-in with."

You pointed at Aitana's photo on the wall. "Aitana Bonmatì?" Eva asked, puzzled.

"Yep."

"Well, at least she's better at kicking a ball than driving a car."

"That's what I was thinking!" you said, pumped. "Now let's get down to business."

A couple of guys from the club gave you the grand tour and hooked you up with a whole room to work in. You offered to take the trophies back to your lab, but they were set on leaving them there.

As you got everything set up, just as you were about to dive in, the bearded dude was heading out. "Just a heads up, the squad might swing by to check out your work. You know, for Instagram and stuff. Don't sweat it; it won't take too long." You gave a hesitant nod, gearing up for your first trophy. 

"Imagine if Aitana walks in here with all her teammates!" Eva quips jokingly as the two guys leave you alone. "I'd pay to see her face when she realizes it's you," she chuckles.

"I think it's the men's team. Otherwise, they would've said it," you comment, preparing your materials.

"How was meeting her?" Eva asks eagerly. She's a big fan of the women's side.

"I didn't even recognize her. I was kinda harsh, actually," you chuckle.

"Luck hasn't been on your side lately, with the car and all," she replies sadly.

"Yeah," you say, feeling a wave of emotions you'd rather not deal with. You shake it off and force a smile. "Let's focus on making some good money. I'd love to have jobs like this every day!"

You start working on Champions League and La Liga trophies. There's a lot, and as the hours pass, you feel even more exhausted.

After a couple of hours, the guy from earlier shows up. "So, the team's about to arrive. Is it okay if we film you?"

Eva looks at you, waiting for your response. "Only if I get some free advertising out of it."

He thumbs up. "I'll tag you in the story."

"You better!" you playfully retort, returning to polishing the 2005 men's Champions League trophy. You fake a smile and wait for the team to arrive.

As soon as you hear female voices, you glance at Eva and chuckle. She whispers a "I told you so" and gets back to work.

When they come in, you make eye contact with Aitana. Her smile turns to shock, then mortification. It takes all your willpower not to laugh. Out of all the people in Barcelona, she had to be the one to hit your car?

You quickly present your work, using fancy words you rarely use and explaining all the procedures. Aitana never comes near you, which makes you feel a bit sorry for her.

Once the cameras stop rolling, some of the players ask you both questions. As they're about to leave, Aitana walks up to you, apologizing awkwardly.

"I'm sorry again."

"Don't worry about it. Let's start fresh, okay?" You offer your hand, and she shakes it, smiling.

"I didn't know you worked with trophies," she adds quickly, not wanting the conversation to end.

Now that the anger has passed, you actually look at her. She's one of the most beautiful girls you've ever seen, and you're a sucker for nose rings.

"I'm actually an art restorer for Renaissance art. I'm here to help my friend with this job."

"That's so cool!" She beams at you. "So, are you going to work on my Ballon d'Or trophy too?"

You glance at Eva, who nods slightly. "Yeah, but probably not until next week."

She looks at you hesitantly. "Can I be there? I mean, it's not that I don't trust you, but I'm just curious, that's all."

"Are you done rambling?" You chuckle lightly at her nervousness. She's probably still embarrassed about the accident.

"Yes, I am," she replies shyly, making you chuckle. There's something about her that draws you in, as if you were meant to be near each other.

"Of course, you can join us. It might be a bit dull for you though, since you're all about adrenaline during your football games."

"I'm just really curious, that's all. I won't bother you, I promise," she reassures you, still smiling.

"I don't think you could ever be a bother," you say before you can stop yourself, turning your head away.

"Well then, as a proper apology, can I bring you coffee tomorrow?" she offers.

"You don't have to, Aitana."

"I insist. How do you take your coffee?"

—

—

—

The next morning, you waited for Eva to pick you up for Barcelona's facilities. Since your car was at the mechanic's, she'd be giving you rides for at least a week. 

As soon as you arrived at the trophies, you got to work promptly.

"So, you think Aitana's actually gonna bring you coffee?" Eva smirks suggestively.

"I doubt it. She'll probably forget. And maybe she was just being polite," you reply, focusing on your task.

"Well, she was all smiles with you yesterday," Eva starts tentatively.

You turn to her, pausing your work. "What? What are you getting at?" you ask, eyebrows raised in exasperation.

"Maybe she wanted something more than your forgiveness. Like your attention, or an excuse to see you again," she smirks.

"You, Eva, have been reading too many romance novels lately," you chuckle, feeling defeated.

"Two is not too many!"

"We've only talked for fifteen minutes."

"Yet it was the first time I saw you smile in a month," she says, making you roll your eyes once again. You're certain Aitana was just being nice. But you can't deny she's cute. And kind. And nice.

"Eva, you know I can't," you say sadly.

"You deserve a shot at happiness too, you know."

"Yes, but I don't think a super hot football player is the answer."

"Well, maybe a super hot footballer isn't the solution, but I know one who promised you coffee," you turn your head towards the door. There she is, with three coffees on a tray, wearing a shy smile. You blush profusely, hoping she didn't overhear your conversation with Eva, but she seems unfazed, waiting for your acknowledgment.

You take a moment to compose yourself before removing your work gloves and standing up to greet her.

"Hi Aitana. Did you manage to park your car properly?" you tease.

"You're never gonna let me live that down, are you?" She hands you your coffee and then turns to Eva. "Well, I didn't know what kind of coffee you preferred, so I just brought you the most basic and likable."

Eva looks at her baffled; neither of you expected her to bring Eva coffee or to see her again. "Oh, thank you!" Eva responds before turning back to you, the absurdity of the situation evident in your wide eyes.

She takes a sip of her own coffee, then looks at the trophy you were just working on. "Have you already worked on ours?"

"We wanted to finish the men's trophies first, then do yours next week," you explain. Eva's phone rings, and she excuses herself to take the call, as it was a work call, leaving you and Aitana alone.

“It’s El Prado, I’ll be right back.” 

You sit back down to work, and she curiously comes around the table to your side to see what you're doing. "Don't you have practice today?" you ask.

"We have a rest day," she replies. "Your colleague said El Prado called her, like the museum?"

"Yeah, I have to go touch up some paintings, maybe next month? My schedule's really busy right now."

"You do paintings too?" she asks, surprised.

"I usually only do that. I'm just helping Eva with this job. These trophies are already well taken care of; they don't really need this much attention. But I have to say, LaPorta pays really well," you joke, trying to ease the tension. She chuckles lightly. She has a cute laugh, you think.

"Well, now I'll definitely tell LaPorta!" she jokes back.

"Don't you dare!"

You joke and chat for at least another fifteen minutes. There's something about her that makes your stomach flip in ways you definitely don't want it to. She's attentive, curious, and sweet. She's confident but never boastful, which you find refreshing. 

As the minutes pass, she gradually moves closer to you, coaxing you into letting her help with your work. You gently push her away, chuckling, telling her they don't pay her to restore trophies. But she doesn't budge. She grabs a pair of gloves, picks up her chair, and places it next to yours. She sits down, and you turn to her, wide-eyed at the proximity, but soon focus back on the trophy.

She tucks a loose hair lock behind your ear, asking for your attention. You turn to her, cheeks slightly flushed. "You're distracting me, Aitana."

"Maybe that is my intention," she smirks teasingly.

"Do you want me to lose my job?"

"It's not my fault you're easily distracted. I haven't done anything. I just sat next to you and put on some gloves," she raises an eyebrow.

"And that's more than enough," you utter to yourself.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing!" You reply hastily, but she smiles knowingly, as if she caught you saying something you shouldn't have.

You two stare at each other, like strangers trying to solve a puzzle on each other's faces. You can't quite figure her out. She's the best footballer in the world, yet she's so much more. Still, you feel drawn to her, as if you're meant to be there with her, and she with you. 

You're probably imagining things and being delusional. You blame it on your period. The silence fills the room, becoming suffocating. It's too intense, too much.

Thankfully, Eva enters the room, and you jump back into action, focusing on the trophy again, while Aitana stares at the floor.

You look at Eva, who's already sending you a big smirk, making you roll your eyes.

Aitana stands up and walks to the door. "I really have to go now. How about tomorrow?"

"What-" 

"Okay. Bye!" And she was already out.

You turn to Eva. “Did I miss something?” She asks.

“I don’t know. And I don’t want to talk about it.”

—

—

—

"So, the blood work came back," your doctor says, settling into his chair and opening your file. "You have anemia. Until your hemoglobin levels increase, we can't proceed with the therapy. I advise you to adjust your diet to include more iron and vitamin B12-rich foods. Also, consider taking some vitamin supplements."

You nod lightly, already mentally noting a trip to the drugstore. After a final visit from the doctor, you head home.

This week has been relatively relaxed compared to your previous ones in Italy. You've been working on an undemanding job with your best friend, which couldn't have gone better. Well, maybe it did. Every day this week, she brought you coffee and lingered for at least 15 minutes to chat with you. Even with her busy training schedule, she always made time to talk. You wouldn't discuss deep topics or your condition, but you appreciated how she listened and remained interested in your life.

Occasionally, she'd flash you that beautiful smile, tempting you to throw caution to the wind and kiss away all her smirks and grins.

—

That same morning, Eva was alone at the Barcelona training grounds because you were at the doctor's office. Around 9 AM, Aitana arrived, searching for you.

"Hi, Eva. Is Y/n here?" she asks.

"Y/n isn't here today. She had a doctor's appointment. Did she forget to tell you?" Eva replies.

Aitana's face falls into a kicked puppy expression. "She did. Anyway, I wanted to give her this." She hands Eva a bag. "It's game tickets. She mentioned she's never been to a Barcelona Femení game, and I wanted to change that. Can you please give them to her?"

Eva studies her, trying to gauge her intentions. "You like her, don't you?"

"What?" Aitana's taken aback, clearly not expecting those words.

"I get it. She's a wonderful person. And stubborn. Just don't hurt her; she's already going through enough," Eva warns.

Aitana nods lightly. "I hope to see you at the stadium this weekend. Bye!" With that, she leaves.

—

Two hours later, you return to work. 

"Hey!" you greet Eva.

"Hey! How was the appointment?"

"I have anemia, among other things, so I have to wait for it to get better before starting treatment."

"That sucks. But on the bright side, your footballer came by."

Damn. You were so wrapped up in conversation with her, and also distracted by her presence the day before, that you forgot to tell her you wouldn't be at work the next day.

"I forgot to let her know I wouldn't be here today," you admit.

"I figured. I saw the disappointment on her face when she didn't see you," Eva says, overly dramatic.

"You're being dramatic," you lightly blush.

"Maybe, but she cares about you."

"She's a good friend. It's no wonder everyone likes her."

"She could be more than a friend. I think she's—"

"Again, Eva. You know I can't! Besides, do you really think a girl like her would go for a girl like me?" With every interaction, your feelings for Aitana have grown. You're ignoring them, but you know they're there. Acting on them wouldn't be fair to her. But there's an inexplicable pull that you can't control.

"Y/n, you have qualities not everyone has. If it's a worthiness issue, it's all in your head." Eva hands you the bag Aitana left.

"You know I can't be in a relationship right now."

"Why?"

"You know why. It wouldn't be fair to her."

"Then stop giving her heart eyes. It's annoying, especially when I'm trying to work," Eva chuckles.

"It's not you she's trying to distract," you admit, blushing lightly. "And I don't give her heart eyes." You pout.

"Denial isn't just a river in Egypt," she comments ironically. "But I get it. You've never dealt well with hot women anyway. You're just playing it cool because you're still denying your feelings."

"Stop getting inside my head! Let's get back to work."

That night, you finally open the bag. Inside is an envelope with two tickets to Saturday's game against Atletico Madrid, along with a note.

"I hope you enjoy the game! Since I know you don’t have a jersey, I thought I’d give you one of my old ones."

You pull out the jersey, from last year with the Liga F patch. You subtly smell it, convincing yourself it's not weird. Her perfume lingers, but there's also a scent that inexplicably feels like hers.

The next morning, you wake up an hour early for work. You want to finish an be earlier to surprise Aitana and apologize. Knowing she has a physio appointment ending at 10 AM, you plan to surprise her with a macha latte, just as she did for you all week.

Waiting outside the physio building feels like a terrible idea, making you regret everything. As time passes and she doesn't emerge from the building, you were about to give up. But then, after what feels like centuries, she appears. The look on her face makes it all worth it. She walks quickly to you, still wearing a cute smile.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" she asks.

"I wanted to apologize. I forgot to tell you about yesterday." You hand her the macha. "Plus, this week, it's my turn." You both sit on a bench.

"Is everything okay? Eva mentioned you had a doctor's appointment," she inquired, causing your brain to pause for a moment.

"Uhm, yeah! Just some anemia, but otherwise, I'm good," you fib.

"That must be tough. My mom also has anemia, but fortunately, it's not that serious," she says, switching to a more excited tone. "So, are you coming to the game on Saturday?"

"Of course," you reply, grinning at her excitement.

"You know, since I gave you the tickets, you have to wear my jersey, or they won't let you in," she teases.

"Too bad, I was planning to wear my Putellas jersey. She's the best player on the team. Plus, I love the number 11," you try to rile her up. Her smile fades, and she's about to stand up when you put down your coffee and wrap your arms around her waist to keep her on the bench. "I'm kidding!"

She sits back down, crossing her arms childishly. "I want my jersey back."

You scoot closer to her, attempting to uncross her arms, but she's surprisingly strong. "Oh no. It was a gift. Besides, I think I can get used to the number 14." Finally, you manage to uncross her arms, and she takes your hand, intertwining it with hers. Your heart begins to race as you stare at your hands together. Her voice brings you back to reality.

"I'll show you who's the best."

"I have no doubt." With your free hand, you tuck one of her locks of hair behind her ear. "And you, woman, are one of the most competitive people I know. It's concerning."

"If we win, we'll probably go out to celebrate. Do you want to come?" she asks shyly.

"I'm already going out. One of my friends wants to celebrate his birthday at a bar. Maybe next time?" you suggest.

"Definitely."

You check your watch. "I really have to go now; I need to get back to work. Same time tomorrow?"

"Bringing you coffee is my thing. Are you stealing my ideas, Y/Ln?" she hints.

"Well then, I won't have a reason to see you," you imply, stepping into unknown territory, but it feels right.

"Well, that's just your loss. Coffee's my thing. You'll just have to find another way to see me then."

"Is that a challenge? Because I can find some other excuses to see you before the match," you grin confidently.

"Like?" she asks, smiling back.

"Well, I was thinking of working on your Ballon d'Or tomorrow evening. You've been bugging me for a week, asking for my help. I'll let you work on your Ballon d'Or, if you still want to, of course."

"Oh, so you want to invite me over to do your job?" she smirks.

"Definitely. This was all planned. You didn't see that coming, did you?"

"You just broke my heart. And for a moment I thought what we had was genuine," she says dramatically, making you poke her side.

"I really have to go now. So, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Definitely."

You walk to your car with a smile plastered on your face, feeling a tingling sensation in your hand from when she held it. You feel and sound like a horny teenager. Never in your life has a person made you feel this way, and that scares you.

—

—

The next morning, you arrived at work with a newfound excitement, which didn't escape Eva's notice.

"Why are you so happy?" she asked.

"Just the usual," you shrugged.

"Does it have something to do with your footballer?"

"She does have a name, you know."

"Yeah, I know. I've seen her more than my parents this past week. It's concerning. By the way, where is she?"

"She'll be here in the evening when we work on the Ballon d'Ors."

"Then I'll be out of your way."

"You don't have to. Nothing will happen between us, don't worry."

"Yeah, no. I've suffered enough this week. All the giggles, all the weird flirting. I'm done. Plus, you're making me feel extremely lonely."

—

Fast forward to the afternoon, you were waiting for Aitana while finishing touching up all the material. Even though the supplement for anemia gave you more energy, you had been working for six hours straight and couldn't wait to finish.

What was left was Aitana's Ballon d'Or. You hated working with gold, so you were glad this was the last thing for Barcelona. You would probably miss being here, but most importantly, you'd miss a person more.

As soon as she came in, you noticed she was still dressed in Barcelona sweats.

"Hey! Did you just finish training?" you asked.

"Yeah."

"How was it?"

"Tiring. I didn't know you wore glasses." She put your glasses on herself.

"You are definitely blind. I remember you asking me if I was blind when we first met. I guess coming from you, it's even funnier," she teased, earning a poke to the side.

You rolled your eyes. "I had contacts on. What's your excuse?"

She showed you her tongue. "Do I look like an art restorer now?" she fake bragged.

"You are way too fit for anything to do with art," you chuckled, gently removing your glasses from her face.

"Hey! I do, in fact, love everything to do with art. I'm here; that should mean something."

"Being friends with an art restorer doesn't change the fact that you're for sports, while I'm for the visual arts."

"Maybe that's why we get along."

"Maybe." You handed her a pair of gloves, which she excitedly put on. "You're getting very excited for this. Working with gold is very boring."

She shrugged. "I'm working with Spain's best art restorer; it's a privilege," she teased.

"I'm far from being the best," you denied shyly.

"I looked you up, you know. Youngest woman to own an art restoring company, you travel the world because everyone wants you. What more can you do?" she insisted confidently.

"You're the best player in the world. Last year, you won everything. What more can you do?" you flipped the conversation.

"I'm far from being the best. I still have to improve," she repeated your words.

"To me, you are the best, if that means something," you admitted, making her turn to you with a big smile on her face.

"Well, I thought Alexia was your favorite player; you claimed that you love the number 11," she raised an eyebrow, smirking.

"Well, I told you that I could get used to a 14 on my back. Plus, she didn't bring me coffee for an entire week just to see me. Lame, I might add," you teased her, making her blush.

"Shut up! You loved it," she said shyly, hiding her face away from you.

"Yeah, I really did... Now let's get started."

For the next half-hour, you taught Aitana a part of your work, filling your heart with joy at her curiosity. Whenever you guided her hands, Aitana would send you a look that you couldn't quite explain. It was intense and riveting, making you internally combust.

She was sitting so close to you; you could smell her perfume and shampoo. Your eyes focused on her, and she lightly stuck out her tongue, which you found extremely cute and distracting. As you gently took her hands, you could feel her calluses even with gloves on, you showed her a movement she had to do.

"Thank you for letting me help you," she said shyly, and you gently squeezed her hands.

"No problem. Plus, it's your Ballon d'Or," you shared a quick, soft look. "Actually, you're doing me a favor. Working with gold is my least favorite thing to do. You made it a little more tolerable."

"I'm glad to hear that," she chuckled. "I hope I didn't distract you too much from your work this week," she confessed insecurely. Insecurity didn't suit her well.

"Did you distract me? Yes," her face fell a little. “Do I care? No. We wouldn't be here now," you reassured her, and she lightly nodded in response. "So, on Saturday, I'll have to find ways to distract you from the game, so then we'll be even," you bumped her shoulder playfully.

"I never get distracted," she said confidently. You were glad to see her back to her confident self.

"Is that a challenge?" you raised your eyebrows.

"No challenge. It's a fact."

"Are we back to being all confident now?" you smirked playfully. "Well, now I'll definitely make it my main goal for Saturday to be able to distract you."

"And how do you plan to do that?" she turned to you defiantly.

"My master plan will be divided into plan A, which I still have to devise, and plan B."

"What's plan B?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"I kinda do?"

"Too bad," you chuckled playfully.

It was 6 PM when you decided to go home. You had stayed with Aitana for more than three hours, but strangely enough, it felt like thirty minutes. You had discovered a new side of her that you couldn't get enough of.

She was different in real life from when she was on the pitch—still driven and determined, but also funny, kind, and gentle. She cared about so many things and was so busy, yet she had time to be with you for more than three hours. 

She loved books and days spent at the beach. Her passion for football encompassed her whole life, and you admired how passionate she was about her work.

She reminded you of yourself and your love for art. When you asked her about her favorite books, you were surprised when she replied with nerdy titles. Looks could be deceiving; Aitana Bonmatí was a bit of a nerd, and you loved it.

She walked you back to your car with your bag on her shoulder, insisting that it was too heavy. As you reached your car door, you quickly turned to her. "So I'll see you on Saturday?"

"Definitely."

"Don't leave without saying goodbye, okay?" you couldn't help but smile.

"Yes, boss," this time, you received a poke on the ribs. "Ow!"

"Thank you for today. I really had fun. I thought working with gold was going to be more boring."

"It wasn't, thanks to you," you wanted to hug her. No, you felt the necessity to do so. Unceremoniously, you brought her into a hug, wrapping your arms around her neck and drawing her closer. After the initial shock, she wrapped her arms around your waist and held you tighter. The hug lasted longer than necessary, but neither of you wanted to let go.

There was a pull that made you not want to leave her embrace. It was comforting, and even if you didn't realize it at the time, you really needed it. After some time, you broke off the hug, said your final goodbye, and left for home.

—

Upon arriving home, you noticed a light emanating from the living room. Initially startled, you thought it might be an intruder. However, upon entering, you found your annoying brother standing there with his arms crossed.

"Jesus Christ! I thought you were a burglar! Idiot!" you exclaimed, smacking his arms in frustration.

"Hi to you too, sis," he responded with a smirk.

"Why didn't you call me?" you asked, placing your bag on the floor before embracing him.

"I needed to talk to you, and I knew you'd find an excuse not to see me," he explained.

"You live in Manchester!"

"I'm back. Got transferred back to Barcelona."

"For good?" you inquired eagerly. Ciro, your brother, was one of the best sports physiotherapists globally, having worked with Man City for almost two years.

"Yeah, got a call from Barcelona. You know I can't say no to that. Plus, I really wanted to be home," he replied.

He towered over you, twenty centimeters taller, with medium-length wavy hair that made heads turn. You both represented the opposite ends of two worlds—you loved art, he loved sports.

"I'm glad you're back," you said warmly, stepping back from the hug.

"Now, why did I have to hear from Mom that you were sick?" he asked, concern etched on his face.

"Ciro, I wanted to tell you, but you were busy with work. I really didn't want to worry you."

"You should've told me," he said sadly. "I would've been there. Could've come sooner."

"And do what? I'll start my treatment next week. There's not much you can do."

"I can be there for you. We made a deal to always stick together. You're my older sister, you've always been there for me. The least I could do is to be there for you," he insisted. You sighed sadly, realizing he was right. You should've told him. Perhaps you wanted to protect him, or maybe you feared that acknowledging your illness would make it too real.

"Did you come home because of me?" you asked tentatively, hoping for a different answer.

"As much as Man City pays, Barcelona is my home. And I really missed my sister."

"You're such a suck-up! What do you need?" you teased.

"Well, now that you ask... I might need a place to stay."

Rolling your eyes, you replied, "You can take the guest room."

After settling his stuff in the guest room, you both decided on pizza for dinner. He insisted you make the call, but you refused, playfully tossing his phone back to him. As soon as he returned, you sat on the couch to catch up on each other's lives. It had been months since you'd seen each other, and despite your reluctance to admit it, you missed him.

"Are you also working with Barca Femeni, or only the men's side?" you asked.

"I still don't know. Definitely covering all the home games and the key players if they're injured. Unsure about the away games."

"I have tickets to Saturday's game for the women's side if you want to come," you offered.

"I'll probably have to cover that game, being the first one," he replied with a suggestive smirk. "Why do you have tickets for a football match? Weren't you against 'the sports'?" he teased, using air quotes.

Blushing lightly, you retorted, "I never said I was 'against the sports.' I just prefer books to football games."

"Then why the sudden interest in watching a football match?" His face lit up. "Is it for a girl?" he asked excitedly.

"No girl!" you insisted, though thoughts of Aitana flickered in your mind. "Just felt like it."

"Then why are you smiling?" he persisted, tossing a pillow your way.

"No particular reason," you lied.

"Okay. You'll tell me when you're ready," he said with a knowing smile.

—

—

Fast forward to Saturday, and Ciro settled into his new job quickly. He primarily worked with the men’s side, working on Gavi and Balde, the most serious injuries at the moment.

On Saturday, he was to finally meet the women’s side in preparation for the game. Patri was the first to arrive, followed by Pina and Bruna. Aitana was the last, there for additional ankle support.

Upon seeing Ciro, Aitana gave him a strange look, as if he reminded her of someone.

"Hello?" Ciro greeted, puzzled by her expression.

Quickly snapping out of it, Aitana apologized, "Oh, hi, sorry! You kinda looked like someone familiar. I apologize if I gave you a weird look." Extending her hand, she introduced herself, "I’m Aitana."

"Hi. I’m Ciro. I’m the new physio. What can I do for you?" he responded.

During their time together, Ciro realized that Aitana was very chatty about nerdy things like books and coffee places—things that reminded him of you and how well you two would get along.

"You said you just came back from Man City, right?" Aitana asked.

"Yes, I did," Ciro replied.

"Did you know that the first atom was split there?" she commented, making Ciro chuckle. She would really get along with you.

"I think you’d be friends with my sister. She said the same thing when I left to go there," Ciro remarked.

"I guess it’s common knowledge," Aitana stated confidently.

"No, it’s not. But I’ll reply the same way I replied to my sister: who cares about atoms, when Manchester is home to the annual World Pie Eating Championship," Ciro chuckled.

"You got a girlfriend there?" Aitana asked unexpectedly.

Blinking at the question, Ciro replied with a crooked smirk, "Why, are you interested?" It was playful banter, no ulterior motives.

Raising her hands defensively, Aitana replied, "Nope, you’re not really my type."

"Then I should really introduce you to my sister," Ciro teased.

"Nah, I’m already interested in someone else. I’m sorry," Aitana smiled brightly.

"Too bad," Ciro finished up her ankle. "You’re all set. I’m sorry if this conversation was unprofessional. Please don’t report it to the club," he added with a tense smile.

"Don’t worry. We were just talking. But I do have to say, the more I see you, the more you look like a person I know," Aitana observed.

"Well, I hope they are great. I don’t want to leave a bad impression," Ciro replied.

"She’s wonderful," Aitana said before heading to the pitch.

—

—

Meanwhile, you were getting ready with Eva to go to the Estadi Johan Cruyff.

"So your brother’s back in town for good?" Eva asked.

"Yeah, he’s currently crashing at my apartment until he gets a flat of his own. Feels like we’re back to being teenagers living together for Uni," you replied, putting on Aitana’s shirt and giving it a subtle sniff.

"How’s that going?" Eva raised her eyebrows.

"So far, so good. She’s my friend," you reassured her.

"So, you told her about your condition, right?" Eva asked sternly.

You fell silent. "I’ve been meaning to! I just haven’t found the time yet."

"You need to tell her," Eva urged.

"I know. Let me just ignore it for a little longer," you replied hesitantly.

"She won’t go away, you know that?" Eva reassured you.

"I don’t care about that. We’ve only met three weeks ago. I don’t have some sick attachment issues, okay? I... I just really care about her," you admitted.

"I know you do. Or else we wouldn’t be going to a football game just to see her," Eva said with a smile.

—

At the Estadi Johan Cruyff, Aitana had secured great seating spots for you. As they warmed up, you couldn’t take your eyes off her. When she spotted you in the crowd, her face lit up with a huge smile, and she excitedly waved at you.

The game started quickly, with Aitana making a significant impact on the field. Her passing was precise, and she dribbled past opponents effortlessly. 

In the first 15 minutes, she had already made an assist and nearly scored a goal. At the thirtieth minute, she scored a remarkable goal from outside the box, prompting you to cheer loudly.

However, the next action worried you. A harsh tackle left Aitana clutching her ankle in pain. Thankfully, your brother quickly tended to her, and she was able to continue playing, albeit with some discomfort. At halftime, Ciro was still with Aitana, leaving you concerned. But what concerned you more was that she didn’t return for the second half, replaced by another player.You quickly sent a text to Ciro, hoping he’d see it.

**You:** Where are you?

**Ciro:** I’m at work, idiot. You saw me.

**You:** I know, but right now? Is everything okay with Aitana?

**Ciro:** Yes, why? Why are you so concerned?

**You:** She’s my friend. Can I come and see her?

Aitana was perched on the physio bed, visibly annoyed that they’d taken her off at half-time.

“Hey, Aitana,” Ciro turned to her, puzzled by her behavior, away from his phone. “How do you know my sister?”

She looked at him, puzzled. “Who’s your sister?”

“Y/n?” He stated, as if it were obvious.

“Like Y/n Y/ln? You’re his brother?”

“Yeah!”

“I didn’t know that! She never mentioned she had a brother. That’s why you looked like her!”

“She wants to come and see you. I can’t let her in, but you can if you want.”

Aitana blushed lightly, a fact Ciro noted but didn’t comment on. Internally, she thanked him for it.

“Yeah, of course she can come if she likes.”

He smirked knowingly, making her blush again. “I’ll go get her. Then we’ll have a small talk on how you have the hots for my sister,” he teased, leaving the room.

As soon as you saw Ciro in the hallway, you understood immediately that he had something in mind.

“Since when do you know Aitana Bonmatì?”

“Since I worked on her Ballon d’Or. We’ve become friends.”

“Only that?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, Ciro. Only that.”

“Doesn’t seem like it. You are way too worried.”

“Shut up,” you smacked his stomach hard, making him whine. “And not a word about this around her, understood?”

“Can I say one thing?”

“Then you’ll shush?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“She’s really nice and chatty. I get why you like her. Plus, she’s really hot, not to mention your type?”

“You really want me to get violent on you?” You hit him again.

“Ow!”

“You deserved it.”

“You didn’t deny it though…” You hit him again, this time harder. “This one was my fault. I take it back.”

You both reached the door to the physio room. “Now get back to work, Ciro.”

“So bossy! I hope Aitana likes this side of you!” He teased, and you replied with a glare that clearly said, "I’m going to hit you." Your patience was really getting tested. “Bye!” He quickly left to get back on the pitch, while you opened the door.

—

She was sitting still on the physio bed, with some ice on her ankle, still dressed for the match, and lightly pouting.

“Hey,” as soon as she turned to you, she brightened up.

“Hey!” You approached her. “How’s your ankle?”

You took her in, noticing she looked exhausted even though she only played for 45 minutes. Even though you saw her play, you were glad they let her rest.

“It’s good. They took me off for ‘precautionary measures,’” she rolled her eyes.

“I’m glad you’re healthy,” you replied, turning around to show her you were wearing her jersey.

She grabbed both sides of the jersey and dragged you in between her legs. “You have it on!” she said excitedly.

“Of course! I only wear the best! Great game, by the way,” you lightly caressed her thigh, next to her knee, to give her some reassurance. “You scored a banger!”

“Thank you. I’d rather have played more, though,” she pouted, making you smile at her cuteness. “By the way, what was your secret plan to make me distracted?”

You chuckled lightly, completely forgetting. “Plan A was to distract you just by my presence,” you bragged jokingly, making her giggle and earning you a poke in the ribs.

“That’s not true. You just didn’t think of anything to distract me with,” she said confidently.

“Maybe.”

“What was plan B, then?”

“Becoming a pitch invader or just flashing you,” you said dramatically.

“I would’ve definitely loved to see that,” she gave you a playful smirk, lightly gripping your waist a little harder.

You chuckled, smacking the back of her head. Then, you looked at her properly, changing the mood of the conversation. Her eyes looked so tired. “You look exhausted. You still have the elastic band in your hair. Isn’t it uncomfortable?”

“I’m just too lazy to take it off,” she confessed bluntly.

You rolled your eyes and then gently took it off her. “There you go. Do you want me to take out your ponytail too?” You looked into her eyes once again.

“You don’t have to. I can do it on my own,” she said shyly.

“I know you can, but then I wouldn’t have an excuse to be near you.”

Her face softened, making you melt like chocolate under the sun. She nodded slowly, and you sprang into action. Taking a step closer, you gently took off the elastic band and looped it around your wrist. You scratched her scalp a little, making her release a relaxed sigh. Chuckling lightly, you took a step back to give her some space. As you were about to take another step, she quickly grabbed you, bringing you even closer to her. Swallowing some of the tension, you realized she was in control now and wanted you closer. You quickly looked at her lips, then back to her powerful gaze.

“You don’t have to find an excuse to be closer to me. I always want you near me all the time,” you tucked your head down to hide your blush, not wanting to show her how much those words had affected you. She gently grabbed your chin and raised it to her level.

“Don’t hide from me. I love it when you blush,” she teased.

“Stop doing that,” your face flushed again.

“Doing what?”

“Being all confident and so close to me. It’s distracting.”

She smirked in response. “Maybe that’s the effect I want you to feel. I’ll let you go if you feel uncomfortable,” she reassured you.

You replied by simply placing your hands on the sides of her face, playing lightly with her baby hair.

“We’ve been skirting around it for two weeks now. Don’t you feel the same pull towards me that I have with you? It’s consuming, and it feels so good,” she admitted.

It was intense, obliterating in a sense, yet you couldn’t resist it. You hated not feeling in control. Acting upon these feelings wouldn’t be fair to her.

“I feel it too,” you removed your hands from her and took a step back, seeing her expression change. You could feel her disappointment. “So much. But I can’t,” you sighed defeatedly. “It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“Why?” she asked vulnerably. “Do you have a secret boyfriend or something?”

You took a deep breath and decided to tell her. She deserved to know. You couldn’t continue like this.

“Aitana, I have ca—”

The door opened, and the entire team barged in. You subconsciously took another step back and let the team swarm Aitana. They were checking up on her, but her eyes never left yours.

“Hey, you’re the art restorer!” Patri pointed out.

You quickly changed your demeanor to something more cheerful. “Yes, I just came in to say hi to Aitana. I was just about to leave. I’ll see you.”

You quickly left to reunite with Eva and then headed home.

—

Later that night, you were going to a club to celebrate your colleague Pablo’s birthday, but for you, it was also the last party before you had to start your treatment.

The whole thing with Aitana earlier that day had left a bitter taste in your mouth. You felt like an asshole and couldn’t shake the feeling that things could have gone better between the two of you.

Realising that you never asked for her phone number and that you had finished your work for the club, you concluded that you probably wouldn’t see her again.

So when you left for the beach bar with your friends, you decided to indulge in some vodka. Eva didn’t question it. She knew that sometimes, when you were out with your friends, you stopped being the responsible one and drank more than usual to have some fun. Pablo and Eva always made fun of you because you never had filters and would always create chaos, but you never went overboard.

You were in the middle of the night, two drinks in, and you started telling your friends that you loved them. They only chuckled in response. You alternated between depressing states and euphoric ones, making Eva, who was also intoxicated, extremely confused.

The whole night shifted again when you saw a group of girls entering the bar, including the one girl you thought you’d never see again. As soon as she saw you, she tried to approach you. She wanted to talk about the conversation you had earlier that day, but you tried to drunkenly escape the conversation. It did not work.

A few moments later, you were met with her standing in front of you while you were sitting down at the bar stools. She saw that you were drunk, and her serious appearance faded for a moment. 

“Can we—Are you drunk?” she asked.

“Yep,” you confessed without even trying to hide it. “What are you doing here?”

“We are out celebrating the win. What are you doing here?”

“The birthday party,” you slurred. She had her nose ring on. You loved it when she wore it. “You have your nose ring on. I really like it,” you tried to raise your hand to touch it, but she quickly stopped you.

“How much did you drink?” she asked, concerned.

“Not that much. Why are you so serious? I don’t like it when your face scrunches up.”

She chuckled at your drunkenness. “You are so drunk. I’ll take you home.”

“Nooo. You just got here, plus my friends are about to leave,” you protested.

“It’s no biggie. You need to get home to sleep it off.”

“I think I should. On Monday, I have my first treatment. I shouldn’t feel hungover,” you blurted out.

“You have your first what?”

“Can I have a kiss?”

“What?”

“A kiss. You know, the ones you give to a person with the lips,” you explained, while she slowly took your hand and led you out of the bar.

“I know what a kiss is. I don’t think I should give you a kiss, given your current state. And the fact that a few hours ago you rejected me.” You were out now.

“Wait. Why are we outside?”

“I’m taking you home.” She states.

“You tricked me. You are one little sneaky son of a bitch.” You pout, making her laugh.

“You drunk, is the highlight of my day.”

“That’s so sad.” You cover your mouth with your hand childishly. “I shouldn’t have said that.” She giggles in response. “I still want a kiss from you. And I want to you to know that I didn’t in fact reject you. I just told you that I can’t.” You specify.

She leads you to her car without you realizing it. “I hope you are not one of those people who takes me to their car and then try to kill me.” She opens the car door and helps you inside.

She buckles your seatbelt, and due to the closeness, you blurt out. “You are very beautiful. The most perfect face.”

She chuckles, lightly shaking her head. “You are very beautiful too.” She gives you a quick kiss on the temple and round the car to get to the driving seat.

“Was it that difficult to give me a kiss?” You ask her rhetorically, making her roll her eyes at you.

“Can you tell me your address?” She sat down on the driver’s seat and gently turned your head towards her to get some attention.

“I don’t wanna go home. My brother is there.” You whine. “Let’s go to the beach.” You say excitedly. 

“Y/n you are drunk. If you don’t tell me your address I’ll bring you to my home.” Aitana tells you seriously. 

“Is that an invite?” You smirk suggestively.

“Get your head out of the gutter, Y/n.” 

“Calm down. I was just joking!” You grinned.

“I should probably text Eva.” You sober up and sent her, very slowly, a text.

**You** I’m going hmoe with hot footballer. See you on mnoday. I’m drukn but I love you.

The drive pretty much sobered you up. You were still blabbering nonsense to Aitana, talking to her about the most random things. When you arrived, you quickly noticed that you weren’t in your apartment complex.

“I knew it. You brought me here to kill me,” you said, fed up.

“We are at my home.”

You opened the car door and got out before she could help you. “This whole building is your house?!” you said, shocked, while she quickly walked up to you.

“No, you idiot. I have an apartment,” she giggled lightly.

“You are enjoying this, aren’t you? Getting to see me like this.”

“I am definitely enjoying this. Too bad I can’t make any videos of you like this,” she said, placing a hand behind your back to stabilize you until you got to her apartment.

You curiously wandered around her living room, taking in her home. It was just like her. Every decoration, every piece of furniture reflected her in some way, only something was missing.

“You should get some artwork to fill up the walls. Your house is beautiful, Aitana.”

“Thank you. I guess you can definitely help with that, don’t you think?”

“Not in this condition.” You sat on the couch, while you waited for her to join you.

“You wanted to talk?”

“Not with you like this, tomorrow morning?” she offered, but you weren’t on board with that.

So, with a swift movement, you sat on her lap, taking Aitana by surprise. You placed her hands on your waist and blurted out. “I’ll talk then. I really like you, but I can’t be with you right now. The connection you feel between us is so real and intense that it scares me. You have been one of my biggest blessings in disguise since you came into my life.”

“I’d rather talk about this when you’ll remember it, but I really like you, and I would like to know why we can’t be together.”

You were sober enough to stop yourself from telling her the truth. “I’ll tell you tomorrow morning, I promise.”

You gently rubbed her shoulders, feeling all her muscles, making you giggle.

“What?” she asked, tickling you for a second or two. She was back to being her unserious self, and her crinkle disappeared. Probably it was because she knew that you were safe now.

“You are so muscular.” You squeezed her biceps. “If we were in a zombie apocalypse, would you protect me from all the zombies? You go fend off our enemies while I do the housewife and part-time art restorer. Maybe zombies make art, who knows?”

“Okay, I will,” she indulged you.

“You promise?” You asked her seriously.

“Yes.”

“Pinky promise?” You raised your pinky, and she laced it with hers. “Now it’s sealed.”

“Let’s go to bed,” she spurred you to stand up and walked you to her bedroom. She quickly gave you some spare clothes to change, leaving the room for you to have some privacy. She gave you some Barcelona shorts and one of her old t-shirts.

Somehow, every item had her typical perfume, and that special something that was characteristically hers. You were now a little more sobered up, which made you less chatty and with some inhibitions.

As you opened the door of her bedroom to see where she was, you saw that she was getting the couch ready to sleep.

“Aitana, come to bed. I can take the couch. You already did more than enough for me today.”

“It’s no biggie,” she shrugged.

“No, it’s a big biggie.” You walked up to her and literally dragged her into her own bedroom. “You take the bed.”

“Then we’ll both take it.”

“We can do that.” You waited for her to take her usual side, then you climbed on the other side. She turned off the light, and you moved to your side to face her. “Thank you for tonight. You didn’t have to, but you still took care of me. You are truly one of the most amazing people I know.”

She kissed your forehead. “Goodnight, Y/n.”

She laid on her back, making you subconsciously go near her as much as possible, until you looped your arm around her waist and cuddled into her. In response, she gave you another kiss on the temple and nuzzled into you.

—

—

The next morning, you woke up with a headache. An arm was keeping you down, and as you opened your eyes, confusion swept over you.

Aitana was still softly sleeping on your side. Memories of last night flooded back into your mind. You guessed that she felt you stir awake because not even a minute after you had woken up, she woke up too.

“Good morning,” she said gently, moving away from you and sitting up, quickly stretching herself. You basically mimicked her movements on the other side of the bed and followed her to the living room.

“Coffee?” she offered.

“Definitely,” you replied, sitting down at her kitchen table. “Can I have a glass of water? My head is killing me.” She quickly retrieved it for you and got back to preparing the coffee. “I apologize if I made you uncomfortable last night.”

“You didn’t. I’ve thought about what you told me yesterday: that you can’t be with me because it wouldn’t be fair to me. I think… no, I’m certain, that we can work it out together,” she said hopefully. She was still standing when you chuckled sadly.

“Aitana, you don’t know how much I’d want that. But being with me right now isn’t worth it, and I won’t ask you to wait for me because that wouldn’t be fair to you,” you admitted sadly.

“I’ll be the judge of that. Whatever it is, we can—”

“Aitana, I have cancer.”

Now she sat down. “You told me you had anemia,” she said defensively, not really believing you.

“I do also have anemia. That’s why I’ll start chemo so late from the diagnosis,” you released a sigh.

“Is—is it curable?” she almost whispered, almost not knowing how to take the news.

“Thankfully, I found out early about the tumor. The doctors said a 70% success rate.”

“Where is it?”

“Thyroid cancer. It’s a little bump next to my vocal cords.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” she pleaded, almost offended.

“Because...I didn’t want you to see me in a different way,” you confessed as your voice cracked vulnerably.

“I could never see you in a bad light. You are a fighter, Y/n, remember it.”

“Do you understand why I can’t be with you?”

“Yes, and I call it bullshit,” she remarked determinedly.

“What—”

“You know, statistics say that only 30% of relationships last the first year. You literally have more hope to live than us being together.”

“And so?”

“And so, why are you denying us to yourself?”

“Maybe because in the next month, all my hair will fall off, I’ll be as weak as I’ll ever be, and I won’t be able to work anymore?” you said sarcastically. “Do you really want a girlfriend like that?”

“I want you, Y/n. We’ll just have to go through the bad times first before the good parts.”

“You know, Aitana Bonmatì, you are one stubborn woman. You never stop until you get what you want, huh?”

She nodded confidently.

“Can’t you see I’m trying to give you an out? For God’s sake, I have cancer! I might die, and I don’t want you to ruin your life to take care of me. I can’t be that selfish. I care about you way too much!” you replied exasperated, still with your head pounding.

She rounded the table and knelt down next to your legs, taking your hands. “It’s not a decision you can make for me. If you won’t let me be there for you as your girlfriend, then I’ll be there for you as a friend. For the record, I care about you too. And even if you already have Eva and Ciro, I won’t let you go through this alone.”

“We could never be friends, you know that?” you gently caressed her cheek, and she leaned into the touch.

“I know. But you are in control, okay? Let me just be there for you, please,” she practically begged you in the last part. You made her stand up while you thought for a moment.

“You won’t surrender, will you?” Your face adorned with a sad smile, while she shook her head. “I’m just a stranger, Aitana.”

“You are way more than that, and you know it,” she paused for a second. “You would do the same for me.” You nodded. You’d probably do worse if you found out that she had cancer.

"Let's take things slow, okay?" you concede, rising from your seat and placing your coffee cup on the table. "I should probably go home. Tomorrow I start chemotherapy, and I should probably rest," you say with a tinge of sadness. Making your way to Aitana's room, you change back into your clothes. After about five minutes, there's a knock on the door.

She slowly opens it. "Do you need me to drive you home? It's no biggie," she offers.

You nod slowly. "Can I come with you for your chemo?" she asks, her voice tentative, not wanting to overstep.

"I don't want you to see me like that," you explain, seeing her disappointment. "But maybe you could come and pick me up afterwards? We can go to lunch somewhere," you suggest.

"I'd love that," she replies with a small smile. "By the way! I think it's time for you to give me your phone number! I still can't believe we haven't exchanged numbers," she chuckles, and you hand her your phone.

She bursts into a giggle, sending you a knowing smirk. "I'm glad to hear that Eva is happy you went home with a hot ass footballer. The next part of the text, it's better that I don't say," she teases, causing you to blush profusely.

"I'm sorry," you mutter, covering your face with your hands.

"Oh no. I love it," she counters, smirking confidently as she tosses your phone back to you. As you unlock it to read Eva's texts, a smile tugs at the corners of your lips.

**Eva** Fucking finally!

Now go and sex up that hot ass footballer!

"Damn it!" you exclaim, exasperated, prompting a chuckle from Aitana.

The drive back home is mostly silent. As she stops right next to your door, you're unsure how to bid her goodbye. It's been a heavy morning for both of you, and you need time to process everything. You had intended to push her away, give her an out. But she refused to give up, surprising you.

"I'll see you tomorrow, right? You'll text me?" she asks, her voice tinged with insecurity.

You reassure her with a kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow, Tani. Thank you for everything." With that, you exit the car and wave one last time before entering your home.

Sitting on the couch with a sad expression, you stare at the turned-off TV. You feel awful, like you've made Aitana feel awful. Groaning loudly, you bury your face in your pillow.

Ciro emerges from the guest room, eyeing you. "Rough night?" he asks.

"I told her," you confess.

He sits next to you and pulls you into a hug. "Did it go badly?"

"No, I guess. Is it bad if I wish she had just told me to get out of her life?"

"No," he replies, rubbing your back soothingly. "But I'm glad she'll stick around."

—

Meanwhile, Aitana returns home and collapses on the couch, her face turned toward the wall. She lets out a light but painful sob.

"Damn it."

In the afternoon of the same day she found out of your cancer, she had a recovery session at Barcelona. For the first time ever, she just wanted to stay home.

Despite being off during all her training, her teammates didn’t ask what was going on, as she's not one to let her emotions affect her play. But that day, she was anything but focused. Ciro noticed and approaches her during a water break.

"Hey," he says.

"Hi, Ciro," she greets him, trying to hide her emotions.

"You good?"

"I'm good. Just tired."

"You know you can talk to me, right?" Aitana nods and rejoins her teammates.

"When did you become friends with the physio? Are you over the Art Restorer?" Keira asks.

"Her name is Y/n, and that's her brother," Aitana replied emotionless.

"The hot gene really does run in their family," Patri remarks, earning a smack from Keira.

—

—

Your first chemo treatment isn't as bad as you feared. Your energy isn't drained at all; in fact, you're super alert, probably because of the steroids.

Aitana arrives half an hour early and joins you in the hospital treatment room.

You're nearly finished; you just have to complete the saline shot.

"Hey, how are you?" Aitana enters the room and gives you a quick hug before sitting beside you. You'd be lying if you said you weren't happy to see her. Her smile melts away your worries in an instant. She's here, and that's enough to lift your spirits.

"I'm nearly done. How's training?" you ask.

"It's good. We worked on free kicks and rondos, so some light stuff. I brought you some snacks," she says, handing you dried fruits and nuts. "I read that the first chemo might make you feel drowsy, and since you also have anemia, I brought you some food with iron."

You smile softly, thanking her with a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, Tani." Opening the bag, you search for some almonds. "I hate raisins," you remark.

"Just give them to me," she offers, and you quickly pass all the raisins to her as you eat the rest. "I don't know how you like raisins," you say, giving her a disgusted look.

"They're just fruit," she chuckles.

"How was the treatment? Do you feel sick?" she asks, worry evident in her voice.

"For now, no, probably because of the steroids. I should bring something to do next time," you say, your gaze softening. "About yesterday, we're good, right? I felt like we left each other on a bitter note.”

"It's okay. It was a pretty intense day. Let's just move forward, okay? So, I'm thinking... Let's go get some food, then we'll start our DreamWorks/Disney marathon. What do you say?"

For the past two weeks, the two of you had been discussing doing a movie marathon, and since you both liked kids' movies, you settled on that. However, there was one point of contention: she argued that Disney movies were better, while you favored DreamWorks. So the two of you had started arguing about which was best, and the winner was yet to be decided.

"I'm feeling great! We don't have to barricade ourselves in one of our homes. We can go to the beach and maybe take a walk," you offer, not wanting to confine her to spending the entire day indoors with you, knowing she's a very active person.

"Oh no! We have to finally settle this debate! It's been going on for too long now! Plus, you're going to need all the rest you can get, and I don't mind keeping you company," she insists.

"Are you sure?" You check once again.

"Yes, I'm sure," she reassures you.

—

Her idea proves to be right because as soon as you get home, you feel the steroids wearing off, with a sudden tiredness enveloping your body. As you drive to your home to start the movie marathon, Aitana notices almost immediately, quickly taking your hand and gently squeezing it, not letting go until you arrive.

"Your home is so full of books! I love it," she says excitedly as she steps inside your house.

"I love reading, and I have a college degree and currently doing my second specialization. I guess I have been the culprit of the death of some trees," you joke.

You fetch your grandma's blankets that she knitted for you, then return to the living room.

Aitana is already sitting on the couch with her arms open, waiting for you. Despite wanting to be held by her, you fear she might feel uncomfortable, so you sit on the opposite side.

She looks at you quizzically and then drags you to lay on top of her. You release a content sigh and proceed to hug her sides, fully taking in her body against yours. "Didn't you get the memo? From now on, I'll be your designated cuddle buddy," she giggles.

"Oh my god! How stupid! I completely forgot!" you joke.

She holds you tighter as you search for a movie to watch together, settling on "The Little Mermaid." You start to drift off, only remembering a faded kiss on the temple and a whispered, "You rest. I'll be here when you wake up, mi sirenita."

Approximately an hour later, Ciro returns home after spending the day with the men's team. He's really worried about you and how the treatment went, but he doesn't expect what he sees. You're lightly sleeping on top of Aitana, while she watches a movie on TV.

"Hey," he whispers.

Aitana's head shoots up to look at him. "Hey. She just fell asleep; the drugs wore off, and she got tired."

He smiles softly at the sight of his sister with someone who cares enough to be with her, even while she's sleeping. "How are you feeling?" he asks her.

"Oh, I'm good. She let me come inside while she finished up her treatment, and we had lunch at that place she always talks about."

"I'm glad she lets you be with her. She's stubborn, but don't give up. She'll come around," he reassures her.

She looks at you. "I really hope so," then turns back to Ciro. "Oh, you should text Eva! Y/n told me that she would text her, but I guess she forgot; she might be worried." Hearing all of this chatter, you stir awake, still drowsy.

"Tani, where is all this sound coming from?" you asked her groggily, still keeping your eyes closed.

"Ciro is here," she informed you.

"Hi Ciro," you lightly waved at him, then cuddled up against Aitana once again.

"Hey, how was chemo?"

"Tiring," you replied.

"I can see," he chuckled.

You raised your arm to show him the middle finger. "Okay! I'll wake you up later; you have to call mom."

You grunted at the thought. "Okay, okay. But now let me sleep."

"Do you want to go to bed?" Aitana asked you.

"You are too comfortable!" you replied.

"Why don't we go to bed? We'll be even more comfortable," she giggled.

"Okay," you slowly removed yourself from her and walked with her to your bedroom.

As soon as Aitana laid down on the bed, you resumed the same position as before. You indeed were more comfortable.

"You are the best cuddle buddy, Tani. Thank you." You gave her a kiss on the corner of her lips and fell back into a deep slumber.

—

Approximately an hour later, you woke up. You patted your bed to find Aitana, but she wasn't there. You quickly got out of bed, feeling a little better, and went to the living room to get a cup of water. In the kitchen, you found Ciro.

"Where's—"

"She left about five minutes ago; she had to do some media stuff with Barcelona, and she didn't want to wake you," he explained.

—

—

For the next two weeks, you had fallen into a routine. Whenever you had chemotherapy, Aitana would take you back for lunch away from the hospital, and sometimes you would take small walks together or watch movies if you were extra tired. In those two weeks, you had gotten a chance to know her better. The more you talked to her, the more you couldn't picture yourself without her. 

She was incredible. But most importantly, you loved how she made you feel. She was always so supportive, never failing to make you smile, but most importantly, she was ever-present.

Eva and Ciro would tease you so much because whenever she was around, you became a completely different person: nicer and more compliant. However, the mood from the first two weeks changed when you started losing hair.

You never really gave much thought to your hair; it was long and wavy, and honestly, you never thought about how being bald would actually make you feel. When single locks of hair started falling out, it was really a punch into reality. You had cancer, and your hair was falling out. Still, you didn't tell Ciro or Eva about it, and especially not to Aitana.

You were currently cuddling up next to her while she gently caressed your back. You had just finished your treatment for the week, and you were more exhausted than usual. Your throat was hurting, and your legs were aching as if you had just run a marathon. Aitana was rambling on about a book she started reading that you suggested.

"It's actually so good, no wonder you have great tastes in books," she lightly praised you, giving you a kiss on the scalp. She then tucked your hair behind your ear, but the lock remained in her hand.

"Since when have you been losing hair, Y/n?" she asked softly.

You moved away from her and sat on the couch, realizing that you had just lost another lock of hair. "It's been a week now," you uttered sadly. "Let's just not think about it, okay? I don't want to talk about it," you got defensive.

One thing that you didn't want was for Aitana to see you actually sick or suffering the consequences of cancer. One thing was tiredness, but another thing was losing hair.

"Do you maybe want to shave it all off?" she tried.

"Aitana, I don't want to talk about it, please."

"Okay, okay. I'll stop talking." You felt ashamed and embarrassed that she saw you like this, weak. So you completely closed off from her.

"It's getting late," you looked at your watch. "Tomorrow you have practice, and I have to study. I think that you should leave."

"Wha—"

"Aitana, please," you pleaded, with a vulnerability in your voice that you really didn't want to show.

"I'm sorry if I overstepped." With that, she left.

—

You took a loud sigh and went to the bathroom. Your brother's electric razor sat on the counter, and you just looked at it, unable to bring yourself to use it. You tried to convince yourself that you weren't actually losing her, but that didn't quite work.

Whenever you touched your hair, a lock would fall off. It was time to shave it off. Sitting down on the bathroom floor, you sighed deeply. Lost in your thoughts, you didn't even notice when your brother came back home.

He appeared in the bathroom after a couple of minutes. "There you are! I thought you left. Where is Aitana?"

"I told her to leave," you said absently, still looking at the razor. He looked confused, both by your state and how you had kicked out Aitana. "My hair started to fall off. I've been trying to shave it off all afternoon, but I can't." You broke down crying at the last sentence.

"Gosh, I feel so stupid! I never bothered until now about my hair, and now all of a sudden, I can't get rid of it!" Frustrated, you punched your leg.

He sat down next to you and grabbed the razor from you. "But it's not just hair, isn't it?" he stated simply. "Losing hair is a physical reminder of what you are going through. It's scary, especially because you are someone who deals with problems by ignoring them."

You released a choked-out chuckle. "It's scary. You have cancer, you can die. Just like dad. And losing your hair may feel like you are out of control, like your body isn't responding to you anymore like before. But it's just hair." He turned on the razor. "Hair will grow again eventually." He moved the razor next to his scalp, making you react almost immediately.

"What are you doing?" You tried to move his hand away from his hair, but he wouldn't budge.

"I'm showing you that you are not alone, and for as long as you are in this fight, we are in this together." He quickly shaved a whole strip of his hair.

"Are you an idiot! Why did you do that?!" You said angrily, knowing that he would most probably pull off something like this, and even if you begged him not to do it on multiple occasions, he still did it. He didn't bother with your angry tone as he kept shaving off his hair until he was nearly all bald.

"See! It's just hair. Losing your hair is tough, but you know what? It's just another step until you get better. You are a fighter, and you are stronger than this." You were at a loss for words, so you just hugged him.

"Did you search on Google how to talk with your family member who has cancer?" You chuckled lightly, trying to break a little tension.

"I did," he said honestly, earning a small giggle.

You stayed a while inside his embrace, but then you soon remembered why you were in the bathroom. "I think I'm ready to shave it off.”-

—

—

After a very intense and emotionally charged afternoon, you found yourself sitting on the couch wearing one of your old Adidas beanies. You realized that one drawback of being bald was the constant feeling of coldness. Touching your head without any hair on it was something you had to get used to. It felt strange yet oddly cathartic, signaling your readiness to continue with the treatment.

"So, are you going to tell me why you kicked out that poor girl who's been following you like a lost puppy since you met her?" Ciro jumped on the couch to sit next to you.

"She's not a lost puppy."

"Well, she's been ever-present, bringing you food and always taking naps with you even when she could be doing other stuff."

"Don't make me feel guilty," you said defensively.

"That's exactly what I'm trying to do. You haven't fully given her a chance, and I believe she wouldn't want anything more than for you to give her a chance. You are all she talks about." His confession made your cheeks redden, trying to hide away the stupid smile forming on your face.

"I don't want to hurt her," you uttered sadly.

"By pushing her away, you are doing just that."

"I know, but what if I give her a chance and it goes wrong? What if she decides it's too much, or I don't make it? I can't deal with that."

"What if it works? You're simply denying yourself some happiness, which I think you fully deserve."

"Why are you being so wise today?" You tried to change the subject.

"I'm just trying to help out my sister, plus I really hope that if the two of you get together, she'll stop talking about you during the physio sessions. That girl is chatty," he chuckled.

"I should probably go and talk to her," you said.

"She should be home; she told me she needed to rest for tomorrow's practice."

You put on your coat and left for Aitana's apartment with newfound determination. 

[idontknowwfc]

Aitana and her secret career as art thief