#amaiur sarriegi fanfic

[sunshine-theseus]

Fuck the RFEF | Amaiur Sarrigei x Reader

Words: 1.8k Summary: you refuse to play for the national team, risking your playing license, Amaiur disagrees Warnings: angst, !!mentions of SA!!, let’s pretend the girls are on a break in Barca before the call-up and Amaiur went to the wwc Requested by - @realsociadadferminofan

Patri, Cláudia and Mapi were who I always went to when something went wrong. Joining the 3 in abstaining from national team call ups after the 2022 Euros and being one of the 4 that refused a call-up for the world cup due to lack of action toward Jorge Vilda’s misconduct, they were basically my closest friends. Not to say the other girls didn’t mean a lot, I know if they felt like they could, they’d have joined us in refusing. But these 3 were who I had when I felt like crying as I watched my friends and girlfriend win the biggest football tournament in the world.

This also meant I’d go to them with relationship problems.

-

“What do you mean?” Patri had quickly paused the movie she was watching and called Mapi and Cláudia over when I came crying and banging on her door.

“I told her ‘I don’t care about losing my license if it means going against my morals and everything I’ve protested’ and she called me selfish and brainless.” Another sob wracks my body and I fall back into the arms of whoever is next to me.

“Amaiur said that?” it’s Cláudia who asks, tone of voice proving how ludicrous Am’s actions were.

“Verbatim.”

--

“Am! Did you get the email?” I yell across the house for my girlfriend who sits in the living room doing God knows what.

“Sí! Did you?”

“Yeah! What did you say?” my teeth worry at my bottom lip as I wait for her answer.

“I said yes, it’s a national call up. What about you?” I’m not sure what to say as my girlfriend strolls into our bedroom, holding her phone to her face.

She’s clearly re-reading the email we’d all been sent. An email majority of us had signed a statement saying we should not receive if changes were not made, especially after the events at the world cup.

“No.”

“Que? Que quieres decir ‘no'?” (what do you mean ‘no’?) Amaiur gives me a shocked look as I retreat beneath our blankets.

“Nothing has changed Am. How am I supposed to go back? Did you even read the full email? ‘If you refuse this national team call-up, your professional playing license may be revoked in correlation to the Spanish FIFA and RFEF code of conduct.’ They’re forcing me to reject my morals and risk my entire career for some shit call-up.” Angry tears prick at the corner of my eyes. This isn’t fair, how does she find this fair?

“Bebé, they got rid of Rubiales and Jorge, that’s what everyone was fighting for. You, Mapi, Patri and Cláudia, you can come back now.”

“Amaiur how do you not see nothing has fucking changed just because they got rid of two shitty people? Alexia, Ona, they wouldn’t be going if it wasn’t to protect the other girls, especially the younger ones. Esas chicas merecen algo major.” (those girls deserve better).

“So you’re not going? You’re giving up your career for this? You’re being a selfish and brainless cabrona!” (dumbass) the anger quickly melts off her face and regret fills her eyes, but I’m already pulling the sheets off me and heading for the door.

I grab my keys from the bowl that sits on the table beside the door, and leave. Her pleas for me to come back so she can apologise are futile as I walk down the hall. Señor Perez, the old man with many cats, sits at the end of the hall, giving me a pitiful smile that I return before making my way down the stairs.

--

“Ese pedazo de mierda.” (that piece of shit) it’s the first thing Mapi has said all evening, but it makes me laugh.

“No. I mean yes, but I still love her, I don’t think she meant it. We were both just angry.” It’s hard not to defend the girl I’ve loved for so long, but I know I’m right.

She’s always supported my decision to stand up against the RFEF and higher-ups. I just think she expected after Rubiales and Vilda were gone, we’d be playing together again. Admittedly I’d momentarily thought the same, but there was no way I could go back.

“Are you guys going?” the trio give each other guilty looks before turning to me. No one says anything.

“It’s okay if you do. I truly understand, you guys shouldn’t risk your careers for this. You’re being forced into it and that isn’t fair. I’ll support you no matter what.” I place an arm around Patri and grab Cláudia and Mapi’s hands.

“Thank you hermosa. We’re still going to fight this, from the inside.” Mapi says it in a funny voice and sends me a wink and I can’t stop the laugh that escapes.

Not much else can be said before we settle down on the couch to continue whatever movie it is the Patri has playing. Despite me calming down, I didn’t think I was in a state to return to my girlfriend quite yet. The universe seems to disagree.

There’s a loud knocking on the door and a familiar voice rings out from behind it.

“Patri, I know Y/n is in there! I need to talk to her! Please?” I’m standing and opening the door before anyone can reply.

Amaiur doesn’t waist a second in spewing out apologies and wrapping her arms around me. I reciprocate the gesture and begin rocking us back and forth. It’s hard to ignore the stares of our Spanish teammates who sit looking on in the living room.

“I’m so, so sorry, I can’t believe I said that to you. I stand by you, you know that. I’m just so scared for you and your career. You love playing so much and you might lose it all because of this.” I let out a sigh and pull away, resting a hand on her cheek.

“Do you want to know why I’m so willing to risk it all? Why I need this change so bad before I can come back?” she gives a simple shake of her head.

I have to give myself a second, swallowing nervously as I look into her eyes. The warmest, most beautiful eyes. She should know, I’ve hid it for too long.

“When… When we played in the Euros, there was one night where I was feeling bad. You were out with some of the girls, and I was in our room alone. Well around an hour after you left, Vilda came bursting in, obviously we weren’t allowed to lock our doors so there was nothing to stop him. He asked why I wasn’t doing team bonding and I told him I wasn’t feeling well. He came toward me and hugged me like he was going to comfort me, but-” I begin to choke on my words and tears breach my waterline. I can’t bare to look at the girls around me.

Am places a hand softly over my hand that rests on my own arm and I take a deep breath before continuing.

“His hands began to stray. I told him to stop and shoved him away, but he just kept going. He groped my ass and boobs, tried taking my clothes off. He slipped his hand down my shorts.”

“Did he…” Amauri is too scared to finish her sentence.

“He didn’t get that far; someone came knocking on the door and he just left with a sick grin.”

“Did you report him?” Everyone around me looks like they’re about to throw up, but for the most part they look angry.

“I reported him to every higher-up I could. They laughed me off and told me I was being delusional. That is why I can’t go back until there is actual change. Especially after what happened to Jenni and knowing other girls have been through it too. If that means I lose the job I love? So be it. They won’t shut me up.”

“I’m not goin-” Am tries.

“Yes you fucking are. I already told those 3, and I will tell Alexia and Marta and Mariona and whoever else I need to. You have to go, to ensure things change. And to make sure the younger girls are safe.” Cláudia, Patri and Mapi have all disappeared, so it just leaves me and my girlfriend.

“For you. I’ll do anything for you bebé.” I stand on my tippy toes to press a kiss to her lips.

“Thank you.”

~~~~~

4 members of the Spanish Women’s National Team have been released from international duty without sanctions, not including Alexia Putellas who has been allowed to leave due to injury. Is the change we’ve been waiting for, finally coming?

It’s the main headline across all media platforms the morning of the second day of camp. A 7-hour meeting to release 4 players. Fucking ridiculous.

Despite it, a smile tugs at my lips as I sit in bed, the sun filtering through the stained-glass windows of Amaiur and my bedroom back in Donostia-San Sebastian. I wait patiently for my girlfriend to arrive, a cup of coffee on her bedside time while my own rests in my left hand.

“Hola bebé! Is that coffee I smell?” the door slams shut behind Amaiur and her footsteps slowly creep closer to the bedroom.

I place my coffee on my own bedside table and get up, pouncing into her arms when she walks through the open door. She stumbles for a moment before adjusting her grip on my thighs, smiling brightly up at me as I lean down and kiss her hard.

My hands thread through her hair and she turns us around and walks forward to press me against the wall. In a moment of weakness, she squeezes my thigh and I let out a moan, allowing her to slip her tongue past my lips.

Not long after, we have to break apart for air.

“You’d think I’d been missing for months with the way you kiss me.”

“Any amount of time away from you it too long.” I give her a small smile and she pecks my nose, making me giggle.

“Can we cuddle and drink coffee while we watch movies?” I pout at her as puts me back on my two feet.

“Anything for my girl.”

Very soon after, I find myself in her arms on the couch, all curtains drawn shut, warm cups of coffee abandoned on the table, Encanto playing loudly on the TV. Naturally I sing along poorly and quote every line.

“Have you heard from the RFEF about your license?” I smile into her neck at the question.

“I get to keep it. And they gave an apology. Not that it means much still, but we’re getting there.” Amaiur squeals and jumps off the couching, taking me with her. She lifts me up and spins me around before putting me back down, spreading kissing across my face. My heart clenches at her display of love. How can one be so perfect?