#before she had alba

[lyricalchrysanthemum]

Thinking about Rosa Contreras-Alba a lot

Girl who was made fun of for her interests so much she started looking at everything she consumed and herself in a critical light.

She’s not just a small, measly human, but also views herself as small mentally. Which she hides under a mask of being happy all the time, which then becomes a mask of highschool delinquency, before she’s at her smallest.

And yet she’s the one to put the horrors of Unova that threaten to consume the region to sleep again, all by herself

[yamumsyadadd]

hidden

this will be a three part series.

reader is younger (22), alexia is 30. the relationship is hidden but a select few find out and it doesn't go well.

let me know what you think :)

Sometimes there are people in this world that want you to change who you are, to hide, to pretend you are something or someone you aren’t. you had never been someone to shy away from the things that were important to you. You loved loudly, proudly, not only to your family but also with your friends and girlfriends.

For three years, you and your now ex-girlfriend Sam, had been incredibly public with your relationship. It came with a cost though. The fights, the unfollowing of social media accounts, the slow disappearances, all went noticed by fans. Suddenly, the home you had in Portland became incredibly suffocating.

After an early exit for the World Cup in Australia, you decided to leave Portland. Mainly due to your ex-girlfriend, and needing to get out of the hole you felt stuck in. Barcelona came knocking quickly. It honestly surprised you. For an entire day you sat googling the team history, wanting to better prepare yourself and not show up to the club looking like the typical American that people hated.

Both the club and you agreed that you would just join the team in Mexico, your belongings would be sent to Barcelona early, the club organised an apartment and for someone to unpack your belongings for you.

You knew that the players of Barcelona, as a club and individual people, expected a lot. The first few days were a little more relaxed, a lot more running than most would’ve enjoyed. But you loved running. It was something you did whenever you were in your own head too much. For the past six months you spent a lot of time running. Improving your fitness, your stamina and even beating your own personal bests.

It was true that the team was full of incredible players, it was hard not to get star struck at them. But one in particular. Alexia. There was something more than just being start struck. Alexia was beautiful. Her face, her hair, the way she sounded when she spoke English, and her ability to make everyone feel welcome. You had a little crush.

And unbeknownst to you, Alexia had one too. But due to you being younger, a whole nine years younger, she refused to do anything about it. Marta and Irene caught on quickly, as did Jana and Claudia. While Marta was encouraging it, citing it would just be a little harmless fun, Irene was completely against it.

Team nights were usually lowkey. Dinner at a restaurant, a hike or an afternoon at the beach. But not this time, it was a celebration. In a week the season would start, so this was the teams last chance to let loose with no real consequences.

Jana’s apartment was a mess, multiple outfits, discarded alcohol glasses, make up and shoes scattered around. It had been three hours since you arrived, Cata, Patri and Claudia were already drinking, or as they said, ‘pre-drinking the pre-drinks’. There was no possible way for you to catch up on them without completely wiping yourself out before getting to the club, so you slowly started drinking.

By the time you actually arrived, Cata, Patri and Claudia were past drunk, you and Jana were on the same level being slightly tipsy. The club was loud and packed. The team had gotten a table in the VIP section above the dancefloor. From that advantage point everyone could see everyone. The captains, who weren’t completely drunk (Patri), could keep an eye on their team.

Along with the team there were a few extra people, Irene’s wife Lucinda had come along, so had a few of the Spanish women’s national team, and Alexia’s little sister, Alba. You didn’t know it was her sister until you were completely drunk and dancing on the dancefloor.

“Alexia, she’s my big sister.” Alba leaned in, hands on your waist helping you stay upright. “I think she has a crush on you.” Your eyes almost bludged out of your head.

“No she doesn’t, she’s just being nice.”

“I can promise you, it’s more than that. I can prove it.” Alba told you her plan, sneak off out to the back patio, she was planning on leaving and a girl from earlier in the night was outside waiting for her. She was sure that if you both played the game, Alexia would be out in no time.

You both successfully exited the club into the smoker’s area, you were past the point of drunk and didn’t notice the death stare you received from Alexia as you walked away with her little sister.

Marta was sat next to Caro, hand resting on her thigh, giving Alexia an amused smile, “well Ale, are you going to just let her go with your little sister?” Caro and Irene gave Marta a look, one that proved neither agreed with it, “you know, she’s really drunk. She might need help home.”

“She has help home Marta.” Alexia grunted out. She knew it was a bad idea; she was thirty and you were still a kid. But she couldn’t help it. The way you smiled big and brightly, your eyes shining with happiness. The sound of your laugh, the way you remembered little random details about everyone, and the amount of work you always put in. no matter what, you were one of the first to get to training and one of the last to leave. While you hung out with the younger girls, you weren’t like them. You enjoyed having fun but as soon as it was training time, you locked in. it amazed her.

Alexia stood up abruptly, startling the girls around her. “Ale, leave her.” Irene tried to reach out, but Alexia shook her off.

“I’m going home. Goodnight.” They knew she wasn’t going home, at least not directly and that was confirmed as soon as they watched her walk out the same door you had gone through prior with Alba.

“Marta, why do you have to encourage it!” Irene groaned.

“Ale needs some fun. No, she deserves some fun. They are both adults and if they are both consenting there’s nothing wrong with it. Hell, look at lucy and Ona.” Marta vaguely waved a hand towards Lucy and Ona who were in their own little world on a separate table.

Outside, you were laughing with Alba and her friend as they lit up a cigarette. That was something different from home. Spanish people smoked and it was generally accepted to do it wherever. Expect for in the south, that didn’t happen much at home. Both your parents were strictly against it and since you were a professional athlete, and so were most your friends, you had never really been around people who smoked.

You had completely forgotten about the whole mission, until the door to the club slammed open. You heard Alba mutter something about it taking long enough and then you felt her presence.

Commanding but not scary, the tension was beaming off of her. “let’s go y/n. I’m taking you home.” The way she spoke was possessive, as if you belonged to her but you didn’t, you were your own personal.

“No, I’m okay here thanks.” You almost lost your balance as you said it, Alexia was the one to save you.

“Ale, if she says she wants to stay, let her stay.” The look alexia shot alba was enough that she put her hands up in surrender. Alexia’s arm went around your waist, holding tightly onto your hip. As soon as she loosened her grip a little, you tried to run. You were, after all, a runner.

Alexia groaned and then took off after you, considering how drunk you were it was easy to catch up. “Please let me just take you home.” She groaned, your drunken giggle filled her ears, and she couldn’t help but smile at you.

A shiver went through you as you looked into Alexia’s eyes, you weren’t cold, but Alexia automatically removed her jacket and draped it over your shoulders, “can we stop for nuggets on the way?” it was alexia’s time to laugh.

Alexia did end up getting you the nuggets and she watched in slight disgust as you ate the entire box in a few short minutes. The walk to your flat was halted by the downfall of rain. As you sat in the back of the uber you couldn’t help but think about how warm alexia’s body felt as you sat against her.

Both of you knew it was a bad idea. Alexia was 30, you were barely 22, she was a captain and most importantly, she was Alexia Putellas. But for Alexia, there was a look in your eyes that made her want to throw everything away.

There was a moment in the elevator, you were leaning against the back of the elevator and Alexia was standing in front of you. Slowly she walked towards you, as if you were a creature she was worried would run away, her hands landed on your hips, thumbs running against the exposed skin. Just as she started to lean in, the elevator binged, and the doors opened.

Ms Santos from down the hall came in. the old lady was nice; you felt bad for her. The small talk that started in the elevator continued until she was at her door. While you were far too drunk to help with her bag, Alexia carried it for her, forever the gentlewoman.

As you were unlocking the door to your apartment, your mind was racing with thoughts about the state you left your apartment in. was it clean? Were the dirty clothes all over the floor? Alexia’s warm hand was placed on top of yours, “let me help you.” She murmured into your ear.

When you alexia finally got the door open, it was like a flip switched. The warmth of her hand on your lower back and the heat pooling in your underwear had effectively sobered you up. Alexia was looking insanely hot as she stood there in your kitchen, getting you water and Panadol for the impending headache she was sure you would have.

All you could do was watch her. The way she moved so effortlessly, as if she’d been in your apartment many times. How her hand ran under the water to make sure it was cool, and mostly how her hands gripped the glass. You wished she was gripping any part of you like that.

When she turned around towards you, she saw the way you were looking at her. Your bottom lip between your teeth as you looked up and down at her. Slowly she made her way towards you, glass in one hand and Panadol in the other.

“Here, take the Panadol and drink the water, por favor.”

“I don’t want it.” You pouted up at her, hand reaching for the hem of her shirt.

“What do you want then hm?” one of her perfectly manicured eyebrows raised.

“You.” The small smirk on her face was all the sign you needed. You stepped forward, hands going under her shirt and kissed her. She automatically kissed back and for a while, you both got lost in it until it hit you.

You turned around as quick as you could, making yourself dizzy. Alexia was still in the kitchen, confused until she heard you empty your stomach contents into what she hoped was the toilet. She moved just as fast, coming to hold your hair and rub your back. To you, it seemed to last forever but when you were finally done, a wave of embarrassment washed over you.

“Shower time, yes?” she moved around with ease. Starting the shower, getting you a towel and then helping you up. “Arms up.” You followed every direction she gave you, too tired and drunk to argue. Once you were in the shower, alexia left the bathroom to get you some comfy clothes to sleep in.

She took her time, admiring the way your bedroom seemed to be so you. The photos of your family and national teammates littered your dresser, your training bag thrown on a chair in the corner of the room and plants that were scattered around.

You slowly made your way out of the bathroom, feeling slightly better but still drunk. Alexia turned around to see you standing there, hair damp and body wrapped in a towel. She couldn’t help but feel things.

“Can you help me?” your voice was small, almost vulnerable. Alexia didn’t say anything, just nodded her hand and came over to you. She tried not to look at your naked body, but she couldn’t help it. You were beautiful, she knew that already, but this was different.

“Can you stay?” you asked as you got into bed.

“Okay.” Alexia turned off the main bathroom and bedroom light, plugging your phone into charge and climbing into the other side of your bed. She manhandled you until you were laying with your head on her chest, her hand running through your hair.

“Thank you for looking after me.” You placed a small kiss on her lips and let yourself fall asleep.

You assumed, that asking her to stay meant that she would stay the entire night but when you woke up, she was gone. No goodbye, no note. Nothing.

Maybe she has somewhere to be, or maybe she just couldn’t sleep in someone else's bed, you weren’t sure, but it stung a little.

Two days later at training when she completely ignored you, it hurt even more. Maybe she regretted it, maybe she was embarrassed. The entire day she acted like you didn’t exist and it hurt, but then as it was nearing midnight she turned up at your door.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Perfect II

Alexia Putellas x Toddler!Reader

Summary: You've gotten very stubborn

Alexia sits up on the physio's table, getting her ankle checked out.

Usually, she would be focused on her check up and trying to wheedle the physio with questions about her recovery time and her rehab regime.

This time though, she's watching you toddle around the room with a football that you try to kick determinedly into the little goal set up in the corner.

It's a proper football as well - one of the full sized ones Alexia and Patri were training with earlier and one that Alexia hadn't even realised you'd stolen.

"Y/n, mija," She says softly," Where is your ball?"

The ball you usually use is not this one. This one is much too big for a little toddler like you. Much too big because you can barely even control it, clumsily swinging your leg around as you try to get it towards the little goal in the corner.

"Is my ball!" You insist as you wildly kick again with your Bun-Bun fisted in your grip.

You barely connect with the ball and it goes bouncing off in a direction that you don't want it to go.

"In your bag," The physio murmurs, nodding his head over to where your tiny football sits just poking out of Alexia's bag.

It's small for an adult like Alexia but just big enough for a little girl like you and Alexia forces herself to her feet to go and fetch it.

"Mija, baby," She calls over to you," Why don't you come and play with your ball? It'll be easier."

"Hmm." You shake your head, bringing your toy up to your ear like the rabbit is telling you a big secret. "Bun-Bun say no."

"Well, Mami," Alexia says pointedly," Says yes. I would like you to play with your ball."

"No," You reply, firmly booting the big ball into the wall.

"Y/n, yes."

"Mami, no."

The physio chuckles to himself from his spot by the computer, typing up whatever he's noted about Alexia's ankle. "I don't miss that phase."

Alexia sighs, wiping a hand over her face for a moment before crouching down to your level with the ball. "Are you sure you don't want to play with your ball? It's lonely without you."

You fix Alexia a look that she swears she once saw on Alba's face years ago. "Is just a ball, Mami," You tell her," Doesn't have real feelings."

So, Alexia has to admit that you've got her there but it was worth at least a try.

"It'll be easier for you," She continues," And you can show off all your skills."

"Can do that with big ball." You toddle after the big ball again and finally manage to nudge it into the goal.

"Pick your fights," The physio laughs," They're stubborn at this age. You won't win."

He's right, of course, because Alexia is acutely aware of how stubborn you've gotten.

It's like you've learnt to walk and kind of how to talk and the stubbornness came hand in hand with it all.

It didn't help, of course, that your designated babysitter is Alexia's sister, who seems to delight in teaching you things that drives Alexia up the wall.

Even Eli had laughed about it once, the way you had seemingly picked up a bit of Alba's attitude just by hanging out with her for a few hours every week.

Alexia could only be glad that you seemed to take after her more than you take after Alba though as you stare determinedly at the big ball at your feet, once again rearing your leg bag and booting it across the room.

The force of your kick forces you off balance though and you plop onto the floor.

Alexia stifles a laugh at your look of pure confusion, like you can't understand why you've gone from standing to sitting so suddenly. She moves easily towards you, lifting you up and placing you on your feet again.

"Maybe not as strong," She says fondly, smoothing down your hair and adjusting your hair bow again," Remember, we want to control the ball, not lose possession."

She grabs the big ball, tucking it under her arm before she grabs the goal in one hand and your hand in the other.

She has to shorten her stride to make sure she doesn't leave you behind as you both head out to the pitch.

Technically, Alexia's day of training is over.

She's gone through her paces. She's had her check up with physio. She's gone to the gym. She's done her work on the field.

Her day is done.

You seem to think yours is just beginning and Alexia is all for encouraging you.

She sets your little goal down on the pitch along with your little ball and her big ball.

You reach for the big one but Alexia's quick feet keep it out of your grip.

You huff and she laughs a little.

"I'll show you what to do with my ball," She says," And you can do it with your ball."

"Want your ball!"

"It's my ball," Alexia explains patiently with a soft smile at the disgruntled look on your face," You have your ball. I have mine and we train together. Is that alright? If you do well, maybe we can both train with the team later. But you have to use your ball."

You huff and puff but pick up your ball.

Alexia grins.

"Now, we're going to practice staying on our feet after we shoot."

[wileys-russo]

the holiday runaway II a.putellas

7K of good ole christmas angst straight from the fresaverse the holiday runaway II a.putellas (before the void blurb)

“-but mami why did you not say no!” alexia huffed with a fierce scowl, eli sighing and shaking her head as she turned toward her eldest.

“alexia. ya te lo he dicho. i said no, but they are coming anyway! they just want to help, help to make it a nice holiday, a family holiday.” eli warned, turning back to furiously mixing the bowl of batter in front of her.

“so you, me, alba and fresa. we are not enough of a family?” alexia scoffed as eli rolled her eyes. “just because papi died does not mean we-” alexia stopped at the sound of the shatter, eli mixing so intensely the bowl cracked and the batter spilt all over the counter.

“alexia!” eli snapped in frustration , the girl falling silent as footsteps sounded and within seconds both of her other daughters arrived. “what happened? mami, estás bien?” alba asked with a concerned frown, stepping forward to help clean but stopping in her tracks as eli held up a dirty hand.

“i will clean this up. just both of you, change your sheets over and make your beds, clean your rooms and help your hermanita do hers too.” eli ordered, wetting a sponge as you frowned in confusion. “but mami my rooms not dirty!” you piped up as eli paused and exhaled deeply.

“fresa, hija. your tía y tío are going to stay in your room when they are here remember? you will share with alba, and alexia will-” the woman couldn’t even finish her sentence before your eldest sister interrupted. 

“alexia will go to jenni’s. esto es una mierda!” the brunette spat, detesting the entire idea of half the family descending on the house for the holidays and having made this known but her protests fell on deaf ears, and so she wasn’t planning to stick around for the chaos. 

she didn’t want it, all of the pitying looks, the overcompensation, the extra hugs and kisses and assurances everything was going to be fine.

her papi wouldn’t be there to dress up as santa, he wouldn’t be there to build presents refusing to use the instructions, he wasn’t there to cook christmas eve dinner, wasn’t there to wrap everything last minute and wake alexia up at ten at night to help him.

things weren’t fine, this was their first christmas without him and all alexia wanted was to forget it was even happening. she didn’t want to celebrate, didn’t want to buy gifts and make a big fuss, she just wanted to sleep and let it all pass her by.

“bien. i do not have time for this they will be here in an hour.” your mami began furiously cleaning the batter from the counter as alba carefully plucked up the shards of the broken bowl, and you charged after your sister who marched off to the front door.

“ale but you can’t go!” you latched onto her leg and looked up with the best pleading puppy dog eyes you had, ones which normally melted your sister like a stick of butter in the sun but today was not that day.

“not now fresa.” your sister warned quietly, pulling you off and sitting down to wrestle on her shoes. “but-but we have to be together ale, its christmas!” you tried again, arms wrapping around your sisters knee and eyes begging for her to change her mind.

“i said not now.” she pulled you off again, holding you off with one arm white trying to tie her shoe with the other, giving up and kicking her shoes off, she’d put them on in the car. 

“but what about all the stuff we do? the lights? movies? cookies? you promised.” you stomped your foot, tears welling up in the corners of your eye as your sister didn’t even spare a glance, standing up and grabbing her keys off the hook.

“sí? well sometimes people break promises.” alexia muttered, stopping with her hand on the door as again you latched on tightly to her leg. “but you don’t, best friends don’t and you promised alexia, you promised that-” your words fell short as your sister grabbed a fistful of your shirt and yanked you off.

“váyase! go bother someone else.” and with that you were shoved away, the door opening and slamming closed so hard one of the pictures fell off the wall and you winced hearing your mami scream angrily after your sister who wasn’t there to hear, already sat in her car and shoving the key in the ignition.

bottom lip wobbling you sank down to the floor, tucking your knees up and trying to make yourself as small and as tight as you could, watching as alexia backed out of the driveway, gone.

“-you promised christmas would still be fun without papi.”

~

“fresa? terminaste? they will be here soon!” you looked up from your place on the floor and nodded, your toys all put away in their correct place as you finished shoving the race track your sisters made you for your matchbox cars very carefully under your bed.

“alba! déjalos en paz!” you shot up to your feet as your sister began to gather your small army of stuffed animals from their rightful place on your bed, tugging on the hem of her shirt and trying to grab them back.

“tía y tío cannot sleep with all your baby crap on the bed fresa.” alba rolled her eyes, pushing you away with her foot and sliding open your cupboard, stashing your furry friends away on the top shelf you couldn’t reach.

“but this is where they live! on my bed! what if they get sad and scared up there? its dark and its cold and-” you tried to climb up your drawers to reach them, your sister snagging the back of your sweatshirt and tugging you off before you could hurt yourself, sliding your cupboard closed again.

“they will be scared? or you will be scared?” your sister teased with a smirk as your eyes narrowed into a glare. “aww can bebés pequeños not sleep without their teddy bears?” alba pouted mockingly, messing up your hair and holding you off with a hand against your forehead as you tried to swing at her.

“m’not a baby!” “are too.” “am not!” “are too, and you better not drool in your sleep tonight monstruito.” you hit the floor with a huff and a thump, alba shoving you and leaving your room as you scowled after her, your plan to chase her down interrupted by knocks at the door.

you heard your mami answer, pulling it open as a symphony of voices and greetings sounding out, you jumped to your feet and hurried out toward the source.

“superestrella!” you were intercepted by your tío danny, tossed up into the air with a giggle, arms wrapping around his neck in a tight hug as he jokingly pretended to drop you before warmly kissing your cheek hello.

“tío where is angel?” you asked excitedly, pushing up with your hands on his shoulders and trying to peer past the crowd of relatives in the front door, determined to spot your favourite dopey four legged companion.

“oh lo siento angel could not come chica, he is at home!” your tío explained as you visibly deflated with a small oh of disappointment, the older mans toothy grin fading a little as you did so. 

“oye there is no frowning en navidad! santa is always watching.” he tickled your stomach as you managed a small smile, pushing his hand away and placed down on the floor, wincing as your cheeks were smooshed and pinched and kissed until finally you managed to scurry away.

you found eli in the kitchen avidly discussing something with two of your tía’s, but it all stopped the moment your footsteps were heard, eli shushing the women sharply with a click of her tongue as you arrived.

“mami where is everyone gonna sleep? in the backyard?” you asked with a puzzled frown, the three women laughing at your question as you were lifted to sit on one of the island stools.

“sí we are camping nena!” one of your tía’s teased, pinching your cheek as you grimaced and eli chuckled. “papi liked camping, alexia said he could build a tent in ten seconds!” you chimed in holding up all ten of your fingers, a strange silence falling as both women behind you shared a concerned look which had eli rolling her eyes.

“he was mija, the best tent builder, and the best at fishing! he was always catching us dinner when we went camping.” your mami encouraged, pushing your fringe out of your face with a soft smile that you returned. 

“fish are slimy.” you pulled a face of disgust which made her chuckle, both other women seemingly relaxing a little but eli could tell this entire week was going to be walking on egg shells, and not for everyone else.

“you ate fish for dinner the other week fresa, in the restaurant!” one of your cousins laughed as he walked in, messing up your hair as you scowled and smacked his hand away.

“that fish was for food, not for swimming!” you replied in a duh tone as the boy gasped sarcastically, smacked over the head by his mother who glared in warning, causing your cousin to shrink and wander away again.

but despite your concerns, the sleeping arrangements were set. half the family were staying with your abuela and abuelo on the other side of town, and half were squishing into the putellas household where everyone would gather for the celebrations later in the week.

three of your cousins were taking up alexia’s room and a blow up mattress, another was crashing with alba as were you on the other blow up in there too. your room was for one set of adults, the other couple crashing on the sofa bed out in the garage. tío danny was on the couch, alexia was apparently at jenni’s and eli, at her families insistence, had her room to herself.

only when you arrived to your new sleeping quarters, you frowned not seeing the mattress where it was supposed to be, most of the floor still occupied with albas clothes, bags and shoes, which she was supposed to have cleaned up.

“what?” the older girl asked with a frown of annoyance as you hovered in the doorway, backpack shoved to the brim with god knows what and several books clutched in hand. “i’m sleeping here.” you reminded in case she’d forgotten, but the eye roll confirmed she hadn’t.

“sí, sleeping. is it time to sleep? no. váyase!” alba pointed for you to leave as you frowned. “wheres my bed?” you questioned, taking a step forward as your sister shuffled off her own bed where she’d been sat gossiping with your cousin who sent you a wink and a wave.

“here.” alba kicked a few things away to create a tiny circle of space in the furthest corner of the room. “on the floor?” you gasped with wide eyes of shock. 

“i can’t sleep on the floor!” you argued when she made no move to say another word, the older girl rolling her eyes and tugging open her cupboard, pulling something out with a grunt and dropping it to the floor, pushing a few more things out of the way to make room.

“allí, a bed.” your sister gestured as you continued to stare at her in bewilderment as if she’d grown two hands. “that is for angel!” you huffed and pointed to the shaggy dog bed now sat on the floor. “so? you are the same size.” alba snickered, flicking your ear as she passed you.

“alba! no seas cruel con ella. ven aquí preciosa, tell me about school!” your cousin laughed, patting a space on the bed and gesturing for you to climb up and sit beside her. though no sooner had you taken one step forward you were being lifted off the ground by the straps of your bulging backpack, carried right over to the door and dropped past the threshold.

“this line? no insectos allowed past until it is time to sleep.” and with that the door was promptly closed in your face, a quick jiggle of the handle proving alba had locked it too as your shoulders sagged, trudging away and dragging your backpack behind you.

but then you heard cheering and your head snapped up, noticing the rest of your cousins kicking a football around in the backyard. 

so leaving your backpack and your books by the sofa you raced off to join in, but no sooner did you appear were you once again sent away, warned you were too little and might get hurt, arguments ignored as you were shooed off and trudged back inside with a huff.

you tried asking one of your tíos to build legos with you, alexia having bought you a brand new set last week as apology for forgetting to pick you up from school, but he was on his way out to buy another gas bottle for the bbq, and your requests to come with him were dismissed as the front door closed in your face.

you asked one of your tías if she wanted to colour in or help you read or write a story, having homework to learn ten new words from your list over the break, but she was busy redecorating the tree, claiming the theme was off and it had too much red and not enough gold and it was just all wrong.

you tried explaining that you always helped with the tree, puffing out your chest and trying to hang some ornaments, only for them to be pinched off the tree and you gently moved out of the way, once more dismissed as you deflated with a sigh, wandering off to find someone else who might have time for you.

though as you tried with each family member making your way through one by one everyone was always just too busy. cooking or cleaning or unpacking or decorating, and despite the fact there seemed to be an infinite list of things to get done, nobody wanted your help.

you had a house full of people and yet you’d never felt so alone, an hour passing by as you sat yourself by the front door, watching the driveway and waiting eagerly for your sisters car to return, knowing she would always make time for you.

she was upset before, you could see that, but you hadn’t been able to give her one of your special hugs and try to make her feel better, instead pushed off and told to go away as alexia had angrily stormed out.

but your mami always said that was her hormones talking and she was never really all that upset. no matter what alexia always came back, if going off to camp or an away game or just to the store, she promised she would always be back.

so you knew soon she would return, maybe even with jenni this time, and when she did she would say sorry and give you a bear hug and someone would want you around.

so you waited and waited and waited, even as the sun started to slowly go down, but despite the fact the afternoon was dying and dinner time was almost here, alexia didn’t come back.

that was how eli found you a while later, not having seen you getting under anyones feet like she feared she’d gone in search of her youngest. seeing you sat by the door watching hawk eyed through the bottom window panel, forehead pressed to the glass which would fog up every now and then as you’d puff air from your nose.

“fresa? mi nena what are you doing?” the woman let out a laugh, startling you a little as you’d not heard her approach. “waiting for alexia. did you tell her dinner is nearly done mami?” you asked innocently, getting to your feet as the woman squatted down with a barely noticeable wince.

“your hermana will not be back for dinner fresa, she is staying with jenni.” your mami explained softly, tucking a rogue strand of hair behind your ear which had fallen from the messy bun it was scraped back into. “tomorrow?” you asked hopefully as eli smiled, but didn’t answer your question.

“she will be back tomorrow. she told me she would take me to get some carrots!” you nodded answering your own question as your mami frowned curiously. 

“carrots?” “sí! for the reindeer, papi always left them carrots and we always left santa special cookies.” you nodded happily, elis face softening and a forlorn look glazing over in her eyes. 

“oh he did didn’t he, thank you for reminding me nena.” you beamed at that, pride written clear all over your face making your mami smile. “can you go wash up for dinner please hija? if you are fast, you get first pick of the chairs!”

~

dinner itself wasn’t so bad, bar everyone trying to cut up and feed you your own food and ignoring your protests you were old enough to feed yourself, you felt included. you were asked about school, your friends, the dance class you’d been trialing when the five a side football team your sister had signed you up for hadn’t worked out.

though as always when your family gathered together, even without her actually there, the hottest topic at the table was alexia and her blooming football career. now if you were a little older you might have sensed there was someone at the table who wasn’t so keen on this topic, routinely trying to change it or engage someone in a different conversation.

alba.

alexia may not have been so willing for this big surprise family christmas but alba had been quite looking forward to it, your cousin paula her own age and despite being related they were not unalike best friends. but when even paula spent most of dinner fussing over you or kissing up to alexia and her first national team call up, she’d had enough.

just for once she’d like someone to ask how school was going for her, what had she been up to, how was she doing. but she wasn’t as adorable and cute as you, or as talented and passionate as alexia, so of course as usual she just seemed to fade off into the background.

which is why again if you’d been older, a little more able to see the signs, your sisters actions after dinner might have made more sense.

you’d been shooed out of the kitchen once everyone finished up eating, unintentionally getting under everyone’s feet during the clean up process as you were trying to show off the new matchbox cars alexia had managed to source and gift you as an early christmas present.

you’d then made your way to the living room where the other half of the family, mainly the male half, were about to watch a football match. understanding most of the rules living in such a football mad family you were used to watching them on tv, usually with your sisters though alba would always fall asleep during the first half, you climbed up onto the couch ready to do just that.

however within seconds of wedging yourself comfortably in between one of your cousins and your tío danny, the yelling began and you covered your ears with a wince. you were used to loud football games but not in the living room, so with your ears ringing you hopped down and wandered off to find someone else to hang out with.

which is how you arrived to alba’s room, the door closed but you could hear laughter and voices inside, so with a slight stretch due to the growth spurt you were owed which hadn’t arrived yet you managed to tug down the handle and open the door.

the voices ceased the moment you did though, your sisters eyes narrowing at the sight of you hovering in the doorway, rocking back and forth with your pockets stuffed full of matchbox cars, all your clothes a little too big for you since your winter gear was usually always hand me downs.

“what?” she asked sharply as you frowned at the frosty greeting. “can i stay in here with you hermana? its loud out there.” you asked hopefully, the yelling and jeering only growing as the game progressed, fighting with the laughing and chattering coming from the kitchen where the clean up had become more of a catch up and a gossip.

“no. out!” alba pointed behind you as your frown grew. “oh come on al, don’t be mean. she’s so cute!” paula cooed, patting the bed encouragingly for you to join them, alba sending her a look and shoving her.

“tú crees? try living with her. out fresa, ahora!” alba pointed again as you stopped midway in the room, shoulders sagging. “please alba please!” you asked again, clasping your hands together and looking up at her pleadingly.

“no demonio. go!” alba shook her head again, finger still pointing toward the exit, ignoring her cousin nudging her with a concerned look. “hey mami said you had to stop calling me names!” you reminded, pointing right back up at her as her eyes rolled. 

“¿ah, sí? well go tell her then! snitch.” your sister mocked as you huffed. “you shouldn’t be mean alba. santa is watching!” you warned sternly moving to jut your hip out and doing your best to look down your nose at her, the older girl only snickering.

“oh santa is, is he? he’s not even-” though she was cut off with a sharp pinch to her arm, your cousin glaring daggers and muttering something you couldn’t hear as your sister huffed but gave a small nod, not finishing whatever it was she was about to say.

“can i just sit on my bed? i will be quiet, promise!” you begged again, only met with a shake of her head. “vamos alba, she is not hurting anyone. do you want to watch a movie with us pequeña?” your cousin offered with a kind smile as you nodded happily.

“no, out.” alba shut that down quickly with a firm shake of her head. “i could read a book and be very very quiet. please alba?” you pleaded, trying to puppy dog eyes which admittedly often worked better on your eldest sister but were worth a try.

“you do not even know how to read fresa.” your sister taunted with a grin as your eyebrows scrunched together. “can too! you know i can, cause you always-” you began to protest, alba often the one who helped you with your homework given she was much better at being patient than eli or alexia.

“out diablillo, now!” you were cut off, alba standing from the bed and glaring at you in a final warning as you deflated, kicking at a loose scuff of carpet on the floor. 

“please? everybody else is too busy for me.” you mumbled quietly, though before you could even look up there was hands under your arms and you were lifted off the ground, legs swinging as alba marched you toward the door, dropping you down just outside.

“it is not my fault nobody wants you around fresa, now stay out! or you can sleep in the backyard and freeze to death.” and with that once again the door was slammed in your face, a swift click sounding indicating it was locked as you deflated again, alba’s words echoing loudly in your head.

your sister of course hadn’t meant what she said, it had spewed from her mouth fueled by the burn of by being isolated at dinner. she’d just wanted to spend some one on one time with paula who actually cared what she was up to and how things were for her, but of course you had to come along, the baby, and take away that attention she craved.

“mami?” you tugged on her pants, the older woman running a hand over your hair and gently pushing you away. “mami!” you tried again, poking her leg as she paused what she was saying and glanced down at you with raised eyebrows.

“i need a bath.” you reminded, not sure what the time actually was but knowing your normal routine was usually a bath after dinner, and with alexia not around to do it the only other choice was eli. 

“oye you are nearly six now fresa, no? a big girl! you can do that.” one of your tías smiled encouragingly, patting you on the head and nodding off toward where the bathroom was. 

“i can’t run the water. i’m not allowed!” you responded matter of factly, the last time you’d tried you poured in an entire bottle of bubble bath and flooded the bathroom. “go ask your hermana please nena, and i will come and say goodnight later. promesa!” your mami encouraged, patting your butt and with a tap on your back you were wandering out of the kitchen, covering your ears again at the yelling and screaming going on in the living room.

it was overwhelming and loud, and then all of a sudden you began to feel funny. 

your face felt hot, your neck felt itchy, your head felt like it was filled with cotton and your ears were ringing like when alexia sometimes put her headphones on you and played the music too loud. your stomach felt weird, you could feel a strange heat in your chest like when you drank hot chocolate too fast, and you didn’t like any of it, not one bit.

it didn’t feel like christmas, not your christmas, the christmas you were used to. your papi wasn’t here to put on silly voices as he sang christmas songs, alexia wasn’t here to put you on her shoulders so you could put the star on the tree, your mami wasn’t around to make cookies, alba didn’t even want to be in the same room as you.

your sisters words might not have been meant but you were feeling them right now, she had been right, nobody did want you around, so you’d go and find someone who would.

now with a house crammed full of noisy spaniards it was easy enough to go undetected, to slip on your shoes and tuck the laces in because you forgot how to tie them and no one was there to remind you.

nobody paid any attention when you climbed up precariously on the hallway table to pull down your puffiest winter coat which hung by the door, or to pull on the beanie that alexia made sure was always kept in your coat pocket because you always seemed to lose it.

nobody noticed when you stretched up and opened the front door which had been left unlocked, stepping out into the evening where the sun was almost gone beneath the trees, the street lights not quite turned on yet.

no one heard the front door close or watched you jump down the front steps in two’s like you were always told off for, picking at the grass in the front yard before you heard a strange noise and your head snapped up.

your once downtrodden look perked up seeing it was your neighbours cat, who spent most of his time outside hunting birds but had been known to pop up at your window, snuck inside for some food until someone realised and shooed him off home.

so clicking your tongue at him in greeting like you had before you were surprised when it seemed to startle him, causing him to dash away as you huffed and gave chase.

“you get back here!” you called as if he would understand, too focused on the four legged feline to notice when he’d finally stopped it was in the middle of the road.

preoccupied with someone giving you attention you squatted down and stroked a finger up and down his back softly, smiling happily when he purred and rubbed against your leg.

it had all happened so fast, if you blinked you might have missed it.

a car came hurtling around the corner, easily going ten or fifteen over the speed limit which wasn’t uncommon in the fairly quiet street you lived on this time of year, everyone seemingly in a rush.

you only looked up when you heard a loud honk, the cat sprinting away and you knew you should too but your body locked up with fear, headlights blinding you and not sure which way to run if your legs would have allowed it.

luckily the vehicle came to a screaming halt, brakes whistling at the effort and doors flinging open as two strangers came hurrying out. you could see their mouths moving, but your ears were still ringing from the noise of the brakes and the horn, eyes now welling up with tears.

the lady smacked the man beside her on the arm, shushing the way he was yelling at you and warning he’d been going too fast anyway and everyone was lucky he’d just had enough time to stop.

trembling with a mix of adrenaline and fear you went limp as the woman picked you up, bouncing you in what was supposed to be a calming manner and again sharply warning the man that yelling at you wasn’t going to solve anything.

you sniffled and pointed across the road to your house when she asked where you’d come from, the man following after her still yelling despite her warnings as the pair of them made their way up the front steps, the woman pushing the doorbell and gently placing you back down on your feet.

it was one of your cousins who answered, smile dropping immediately from his face as he noticed yours stained with tears, shouting out several times for eli as the mans yelling brought a whole other handful of family members racing to the front door.

then suddenly as the man continued his very angry shouting, this time about what had happened and how could you be so careless to play in the road, the woman questioning your apparent lack of supervision given your young age, chaos erupted. 

you slapped your hands over your ears as two of your tíos stepped forward, toe to toe with the driver and yelling right back at him, everyone beginning to argue about how this happened, no one even noticed when you scurried off to find somewhere quiet, sick of your ears ringing and your eyes hurting and the weird feeling like you’d been punched in the stomach.

then right as things were beginning to calm, the woman sending the man back to the car and your tíos ordered back to the living room in an attempt to diffuse the situation, a car pulled up in the driveway and eli swore under her breath as she knew right away whose it was.

within seconds flat, her car still left running alexia appeared by the front door, putting herself inbetween the woman and her mami with a hardened stare. “-all i am saying is the niña was very very lucky not to be hit. she needs to be careful this time of the year, and play in her yard not the road!” the woman warned sharply before turning on heel and walking away down the front steps, alexia’s head whipping around to look wide eyed in shock.

“qué diablos ha pasado?” your eldest sister asked, eyes darting between the multiple women gathered in the doorway. “dímelo!” alexia demanded, stepping inside as the front door closed, a very uncomfortable and awkward silence echoing through the once boisterous and noisy home.

“fresa was almost hit by a car.” eli answered quietly, barely able to get the words out still stunned near speechless, the possibilities of if the car hadn’t stopped swirling around in her head. 

“what? mami where is she? where is she?” alexia shouted, terror written all over her face as guilt set itself into eli’s realising you’d clearly run off without again anyone noticing. 

“i-i do not know. fresa? fresa!” eli called out, calls of your name ringing out as everyone began searching frantically, your cousins falling over one another to check outside as the door thumped shut.

“how could you let this happen? how!” your eldest sister shouted angrily, alba’s door opening as she stepped out, confusion written on her and paula’s faces seeing everyone rushing around yelling for you.

“why weren’t you watching her alba! why!” clearing the gap between them in seconds alexia had her younger sisters jumper balled up in her fists, screaming in her face as bodies rushed in to pull them apart.

with a scoff alexia took off, checking in each room and shouting out your name, only pausing for a moment when she noticed a very familiar beanie balled up in the corner of her room.

“fresa? fresita? are you in here?” alexia called out hopefully, hearing a rustle and with two knocks she was sprinting to her closet, sliding open the door right as a tiny body barreled into her legs, knocking her to the ground as you clung onto her for dear life.

“aye dios mío.” alexia breathed out in relief, sitting up and pulling you into her, your face buried in her shoulder as your little body shook with sobs which were muffled by the thick material of her jacket.

“its okay pequeña its okay. you’re okay now, you’re okay.” alexia chanted over and over, mainly to relieve herself of her own worries as she squeezed you tightly, kissing your head repeatedly as you shook and cried in her hold, hands tightly fisting the soft material of her sweater.

“fresa! you-” the moment alba burst in alexia’s head shot up, hand on the back of your neck protectively as she hissed venomously for the younger girl to get out, though it was with words you’d normally remind meant she needed to put money into the curse jar sat on the kitchen bench.

as alba backed away, tears welled up in her eyes and guilt weighing heavily on her shoulders, eli was fast to usher the rest of the family toward the front door, knowing all of this fuss and rush was only going to make things worse as no one even tried to argue, planning to stay elsewhere for the evening.

alexia wasn’t sure how long she sat there holding you tightly, mumbling the same words over and over in an attempt to soothe the pair of you, but no one dared to open her door again after the way she’d snapped.

“you left me! you promised and you left!” you pulled your head back and accused with a broken sob, alexia wincing and holding you tighter as you fought for her to let you go. “let go alexia! let go!” you demanded among your cries, her head shaking and your body pulled even tighter into hers until eventually you gave up, crumpling and clinging onto her again as you sobbed and sobbed.

finally, with your eyes puffy and head pounding your sobs turned to sniffles, alexia not even paying any mind to the way you wiped your nose against her shoulder. her thumb softly wiped away a few stray tears as you sat limp in her lap, sagged against her and hands clinging on tightly to the stretched and faded material of her sweater.

“why were you in the road fresa? why! you know better than that.” alexia asked desperately, shaking you a little and tugging you around so you were facing her, unhooking your fingers which quickly grabbed onto the edges of her coat as if she could disappear at a moments notice.

“i was just following henry! he wanted me around, nobody else did.” you mumbled, bottom lip still trembling as your sister frowned. “what do you mean nobody else did fres?” her tone softened, eyebrows creased with concern. 

“mami was busy. everyone was yelling and watching football. alba didn’t want me, she said nobody wanted me around. nobody would play with me or let me help, not even with the tree! and you told me to go away and go bother someone else!” you choked out, tears welling up in your eyes again.

“oh hermana. no no i didn’t- i didn’t mean to but-” but you didn’t let her finish, pushing up off of her and running off before she could grab at you. “everyone says i get in the way! i don’t fit.” you sobbed out at her after you’d pulled open her door, racing out and crashing into something hard.

but you softened once you realised who it was, arms up and scooped immediately into your mami’s embrace, body wracked with sobs again as her hand rubbed up and down your back “shhh you fit mija, you fit right here.” your mami murmured firmly, eyes squeezed closed before she moved to take a seat on the couch as you curled up into her.

it was around an hour later when finally you’d settled again, everyone fussing over you and apologising and arguing about who got to do what. but now bathed and wrapped in fluffy christmas pyjamas all you wanted was everyone to be together, the only thing you’d wanted this whole day.

so when asked what it was you needed right now, you answered just that, eli sending off her two eldest to make hot chocolate, refusing to let you out of her sight even for a second as the pair of you looked through which movie to watch despite the fact it was long past when you’d normally go to bed.

meanwhile there was a frosty silence in the kitchen, alexia refusing to even look at alba who was so wracked with guilt she’d barely looked up from the floor. “why?” she looked up at that, finding alexia’s eyes now baring into her.

“why?” “sí. why alba? why would you tell her no one wanted her around? she is a baby!” alexia hissed quietly as the younger girls gaze dropped again. “i didn’t mean it.” she mumbled somewhat pathetically as she measured out the coco powder and alexia scoffed.

“oh sí because a five year old is going to know that, tonta!” alexia shoved her, taking over the hot chocolates as a new emotion filled the younger girl. “well she gets more attention than me! so do you even when you are not here you are the centre of attention!” alba bit, fists balled by her side as alexia looked at her incredulously. 

“what?” “it is always oh fresita is so cute, fresa got a new tooth, fresa got a gold star, how adorable is the baby!” alba cooed sarcastically, words bubbling up and out that had festered there for too long.

“and you! everyone talks about you and asks about you and goes on and on about alexia putellas the next big football superestrella, saviour of barcelona and hero of españa!” alba waved her hands about with each word as her older sister watched on with a frown.

“but no one ever asks me how i am, or how my school is, or about my achievements, how anything is! mami skips my parent teacher interviews to go to fresa’s, is at your games every weekend, i got a high distinction on a test and all mami did was move it underneath one of fresa’s drawing, she didn’t even see it. i feel invisible alexia! and-” but her words were cut short, the taller girl pulling her into a tight hug.

“you are not invisible hermana. i see you, and i love you, we all do. this family would not be right without you, i am so sorry we have not shown that.” alexia promised, alba giving in and hugging her back, more apologies exchanged between the two, falling silent in their tight embrace. 

until the patter of feet and your voice broke them apart. “do you need help?” you asked with a small frown of concern, the two having been making the hot chocolates for a strangely long time as you were growing a little impatient.

“sí! we need our special marshmallow helper.” alba confirmed, nodding at alexia who slid her the packet with a smile. “nobody puts them in like you fresa. perfect hot chocolate needs perfect marshmallows.” alexia affirmed with a nod, lifting you up onto the counter, softening at the way your face lit up.

very carefully you placed three marshmallows into each cup, no pink for alexia, all pink for you, and a mix for alba and your mami, just the way everyone liked it.

with a hot chocolate in hand and squished on the couch between everyone, it was far from the perfectly normal christmas you were promised, but things finally started to feel okay.

[girlgenius1111]

learning curve part 2

alexia putellas x reader [& r's nephew] will tries to adjust, and so do r and alexia. a phone call and a nightmare dampen will's spirits, but alexia and r try prove that they are there for him. very soft fluff. angst. kidfic. shorter chapter but wanted to get this out before finals kill me hope you enjoy❤️‍🩹

There were so many good moments in being… well, not a parent. Being whatever you were to Will. Moments that you swore made your heart grow, like when Alexia would give him a piggyback ride around the house and he’d giggle until he was out of breath, or when he’d lift up his plate at dinner to very proudly show you he’d eaten all his vegetables. 

The reality was, however, that Will was a traumatized kid, living in a foreign country that spoke an entirely different language to him. Far away from his favorite person in the world, far away from everything he’d ever known. And while Will mostly trusted you, you were still practically a stranger to him, and Alexia was a stranger to him. 

Will was an anxious kid, with a lot to adjust to, and some days he didn’t want you. He didn’t want to be in Spain. He wanted to go back home and be with his Dad. That was just the one thing in the world you couldn’t give him. 

—

It was only the end of the first week of having Will living with you, and you hadn’t quite perfected your routine. It was Saturday, and he was due to start school on Monday, and though he hadn’t said anything, you could tell he was dreading it. Even with the new backpack and new light up shoes you’d gotten him, his little face grew so solemn whenever the topic of school was brought up. 

It had been an oddly calm week, which you were more than grateful for. Pere had taken you both out of the traveling squad for the weekend without either of you even asking. He insisted family was the most important thing, and you guys were facing a team at the bottom of the table anyway. So, with only a few training sessions and several days off, you and Alexia had been trying to get Will settled. 

One of the first things you’d done upon arriving back in Spain was finding Will a child psychologist. He hadn’t met with her yet, but she’d listened to the situation and given you a few tips on how to help Will adjust. And though there was a hoard of teammates and friends very eager to meet your nephew, one of the psychologist’s tips had been to take things slow, especially with introducing him to people. Too much, all at once, would just remind Will how much had changed. He didn’t need to be overwhelmed right now. 

Taking her advice, Will hadn’t met anyone before yesterday, when you and Alexia brought him over to Alexia’s mami’s house for dinner. He met Eli and Alba, instantly taking to Alexia’s sister. It wasn’t surprising; she was a teacher for young kids, and was already sitting on the floor at the coffee table coloring when the three of you had walked in. He’d spent most of the evening silently playing with her, his wide eyes flickering over to you every few minutes, as if to ensure that you were still there. 

It had been a late night, and even the limited conversation that Will had engaged in had seemed to drain him. He’d fallen asleep in the car on the way home, as you’d found he was very prone to doing. Alexia had carried him inside, his face smushed into her shoulder as her arms wrapped around him protectively. He woke, very grumpily, when you had him change into his pajamas and brush his teeth, passing right back out the minute his head hit his pillow. 

Will liked his sleep, you’d learned, and it wasn’t a surprise that after such a draining and long day, he’d slept in. It was nearing 10, though, and you didn’t think kids this little were supposed to sleep this late. Alexia and you had had a slow, quiet morning, enjoying the time alone together more than you would have just a week ago. Now, as you lay on the couch snuggled against your girlfriend’s side watching the team play on the TV, the now very familiar anxiety began to invade your every thought. 

“Should we wake him up?” You wondered, shifting to look at Alexia’s face. Her eyes remained locked on the TV, and it took a few seconds for the question to process. 

“I’m not sure, amor. If he’s tired, should we let him sleep? It’s been a long week.” 

“I know, but–”

“Tia?” Will’s voice called from the doorway, small and trembling. Your head whipped around to look at him, hesitating in the doorway as he rubbed at his eyes with his fists. He was crying, or trying not to cry, you couldn’t tell. 

“Hey, buddy. What’s wrong?” You asked gently, opening your arms and gesturing for him to come closer. The TV turned off as Alexia tore her attention away from the match and looked to Will with concern. 

“I-I want my Dad.” Will mumbled, taking a step further into the room but not taking you up on the unspoken offer for a hug. 

“Do you want to call him, sweetheart?” Your heart truly broke at the sad look on his face, and as much as you wished you could just fix it for him, you knew you couldn’t. 

Will considered for a moment, taking another half step forward before nodding. “Yes, please.” 

Luckily, the prison Leo was incarcerated in allowed inmates to receive phone calls, though it took a while for the call to get connected. You had to call the prison, request to talk to Leo, and if he was available, they’d bring him to the phone area. The process could take anywhere from 10-20 minutes, but Will wasn’t looking especially patient at the moment, his eyes wide and filled with tears as he watched you grab your phone off the table. 

“Will, cariño, why don’t we go get you some breakfast while we wait for your Papi to pick up?” Alexia asked, standing and holding her hand out towards the boy.

“‘M not hungry.” Will murmured, fidgeting nervously with the hem of his pajama shirt. 

Alexia hummed, moving cautiously towards Will and squatting down so she was eye level with him. “You might be hungry when you get off the phone, and if we start making pancakes now, they will be ready just in time.” 

The suggestion seemed to pique Will’s interest, even in his very solemn mood. “Okay. Pancakes.” 

He wrapped his hand around two of Alexia’s fingers and she smiled happily, leading him into the kitchen. 

They got to work making the pancake batter, Alexia allowing Will to help her measure out the ingredients as you waited to hear the sound of your brother’s voice come over the phone. 

Just as Leo came over the line, you heard a faint giggle come from the kitchen, and you smiled despite yourself. Alexia could always seem to get Will to laugh, no matter what mood he was in. You said hi to your brother, before calling for your nephew. His steps padded quickly from the kitchen into the living room, reaching for the phone with a somewhat desperate air to him. 

“Hi Dad.” Will greeted, sitting down on the edge of the couch. You couldn’t quite hear what your brother was saying, and you wanted to give Will some privacy, so you headed for the kitchen. Trying to tune out the conversation in the other room, you headed right for Alexia, who was stood at the stove, waiting for the perfect moment to flip the pancakes. You wrapped your arms around her, pressing your front to her back and sighing heavily. 

Alexia didn’t say anything in response at first, just placed her free hand over yours and squeezed. 

“Does this look like a heart, amor?” She inquired after a moment. You peeked over her shoulder, smiling despite yourself at the vaguely heart shaped pancake in the pan. 

“It does.” You lied, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “Although I think Will would prefer a dinosaur.” 

Alexia chuckled. “I do not think I am that talented yet. Besides, he only cares about the syrup, not the shape of the pancake. The heart is for you.” 

Your cheeks flushed because no matter how much time passed, you were quite sure Alexia would always stun you a little with her sweet gestures. 

“I love you.” You murmured, a bit overwhelmed with softness for your girlfriend at that moment. Whether it was the barely heart shaped pancake or the gentleness and kindness she showed Will, you weren’t sure. 

“Te amo más.” Alexia replied, and you didn’t have to see her face to hear the small smile in her voice. 

As soon as you heard Will’s faint goodbye, you headed back into the living room. Your nephew didn’t look any happier, still perched on the edge of the couch, though now he was fully crying into his hands. 

“All done, buddy?” You called, feeling your chest tighten as Will jumped a bit and hastily began to wipe at his face with his hands. 

He nodded, handing your phone back to you without looking in your direction or saying a word. 

“Are you okay, Will?” You inquired, sitting next to him on the couch. 

He shrugged, lip quivering as he tried to hold in his cries. “Sorry.” 

“Sweetheart, you don’t need to be sorry about being sad.” You told him, reaching over and lifting him into your lap. He curled into you, his hand twisting into the fabric of your shirt. “You can be sad, and you can cry. This is really hard and you’re being so brave, but it’s okay to cry.” 

Will began to cry in earnest now, and you tried not to tear up yourself at the pain he was feeling, pain that was much too big for such a young kid. 

“I want my Dad.” Will whispered brokenly, clutching tighter to your shirt. 

“I know, I know you do. I’m sorry sweetheart.” 

There wasn’t much else you could do but whisper reassurances and try your best to comfort him. It wasn’t enough, you knew. Because you weren’t Leo. And Will just wanted his dad. 

—

It had been a long week for everyone. The emotional weight that you were carrying was taking its toll, and you’d never been more desperate for a good night's sleep before in your life. Alexia could see it on your face, the physical and mental exhaustion, and she insisted you get in bed when just after Will had gone to sleep.

Much too exhausted to really put up much of an argument, you showered quickly and threw on some pajamas. Alexia brushed your hair for you, something she knew always made you sleepy, before tucking you into bed and flicking the light off. You frowned at that, grabbing her hand when she tried to rise from the bed. 

“Where are you going?” 

“The living room is a mess and I was going to finish the laundry–”

“Alexia, you’re tired too. Please just come to bed. I won’t be able to fall asleep without you.” 

A small smile flickered across her face, and she realized how utterly powerless she was to say no to you when you asked something of her, especially something this needy. Alexia knew better than anyone how hard it was for you to be vulnerable. She’d promised herself long ago that she’d be here if you needed her, especially when you asked for her. 

So, she nodded, kissing you softly on the lips. “Okay, mi amor. If that is what you need.”

Alexia made quick work of locking the front door, running through her nighttime routine and checking to make sure Will was soundly asleep before crawling into bed next to you. Her body molded into the back of yours, arms holding you tight against her. 

“You stole my favorite pajama shirt.” She whispered into your ear, hand sliding up the front of the stolen shirt to rest across your abdomen. 

You turned in her hold, pressing your face into her neck and adjusting until you were comfortable. “It smells like you.” 

Alexia grinned into the top of your head at your sleepy voice, settling back into the pillows. “You can keep it, then.”

She was sure she looked like a lovesick fool, holding you tightly against your chest, smiling hugely in the darkness, but she didn’t care. She really loved that she got to love you. 

—

Alexia wasn’t a very heavy sleeper, which normally was a point of annoyance for her. However, when she woke up just a few hours after falling asleep, she wasn’t upset. 

It was a quiet whimper coming from down the hall that pulled her awake, and it only took her a minute of confusion before she realized the source. 

Will. 

You’d been leaving both his bedroom door and your bedroom door open in an attempt to convince him to come wake you if he needed you. Will was independent, insisting on doing everything himself because he was a ‘big boy,’ but you never wanted him to feel deterred from seeking you out if he needed comfort. 

Alexia sat up, rubbing at her eyes and listening just to make sure she’d heard correctly. When a small sob reached her ears, she slipped out of bed, making sure not to disturb you.

If Will needed you, she wouldn’t hesitate to get you. But if this was something she could help with without waking you, she’d prefer that. You were so tired. More than that, she didn’t want you to feel like Will was just your responsibility. She’d made it clear she was staying, that she was here for both of you, and she intended to prove that to you through her actions. 

So, she padded down the hall towards Will’s room, her heart dropping when she found him sitting up, the covers scrunched up at the bottom of his bed, his face wet with tears. He was hugging one of his dinosaurs close to his chest, and Alexia could tell even from the doorway that he was trembling. 

“Hey cariño.” She whispered, stepping into the room. “Are you okay?” 

It was a stupid question because it was very clear that Will was not okay, but Alexia asked anyway, frowning sympathetically when the small boy shook his head back and forth rapidly in response. 

“Did you have a bad dream?” Alexia wondered, walking over to Will’s bed and sitting on the edge of it. He didn’t reach for her, so she didn’t reach for him, though she left her hand on the bed right in front of him, palm up in case he wanted to grab it. 

This time, Will nodded, using the soft fur of his dinosaur to wipe the tears off his cheek. 

“A really bad one,” Will mumbled, his voice shaky and thick with tears. 

Alexia was quiet for a moment, not quite sure what she should do. Should she get you? Should she try to talk it through with him? She hadn’t realized until this moment how much taking care of a kid came down to the smallest decisions. 

“Would you like a hug?” She offered finally, opening her arms. To her surprise, Will quickly slid out from under his covers and scrambled into her lap, wrapping his arms tightly around her neck. She held him carefully, rubbing her hand up and down his back as he sniffled. “Okay. Okay, we’re okay. You are safe, cariño.” 

Miraculously, Will seemed to be calming down, and it wasn’t much longer before he loosened his grip on her and rested his head against her chest. 

“Do you want to tell me about it?” 

“You… you and my Tia went away. Like my Dad. I couldn’t find you guys and I was all alone again.” Will whispered, his voice quiet as if speaking any louder would make the nightmare come true. 

“That sounds really scary, Will.” Alexia said carefully, feeling Will nod into her. “You aren’t alone. Me and your Tia are not going anywhere. We’re here to take care of you, and we aren’t going to leave you alone, ever.” 

It was the best she could come up with. She marvelled at how you always seemed to know what to say to Will, not having realized how hard that seemingly simple task could be. The midfielder was unsure if her words had helped at all especially when Will was quiet for a few long moments. 

“Promise?” He whispered finally, his hand twisting into the fabric of her shirt. 

Alexia bit her lip, fighting a wave of tears that threatened to fall. A 5 year old should never have to feel this way, should never have to be this scared that he was going to be left behind. 

“I promise.” Alexia replied, leaving a kiss on the top of Will’s brown waves. 

“Alexia?” Will asked. 

Alexia fought back a smile, this time, because it was the first time Will had addressed her by her name. She hummed in response, nodding for him to ask his question. 

“Can I sleep in your bed? With you and my Tia?” His voice was quiet, tentative, and he seemed almost resigned, as if he was sure the answer would be no. 

But Alexia couldn’t say no, not when Will was sitting in front of her with tears still wet on his face. So much was changing for him, and he was doing a remarkable job adjusting to it all. Still, if he needed some extra comfort… who was Alexia to deny that? Especially when she knew you’d say yes without a second thought. 

“Of course you can. Your Tia is still sleeping and she’s very tired so we have to be quiet.” 

Will nodded fervently, tucking his dinosaur under one arm and reaching up for Alexia’s hand with his other. Together, they walked back down the hall, feet padding softly on wood. 

Alexia lifted Will into her arms as they walked through the door, in the darkness misjudging the distance she had between her and the foot of the bed. Her toe collided with it painfully, and she yelped quietly, freezing to make sure you didn’t stir.

“Shh.” Will said, brows furrowed as his small hand moved to cover Alexia’s mouth. She fought back a smile, nodding and placing Will onto the bed. He moved slowly over into the middle of the bed, letting Alexia tuck the covers up around him before climbing in herself. 

She’d expected Will to snuggle up against you, but her heart melted when she felt him scooch closer to her, resting his head on her arm. 

“Goodnight Alexia.” He whispered, so quiet Alexia had to strain to hear him. 

“Goodnight cariño.” Alexia whispered back, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. 

She was wide awake even as Will’s breaths began to even out, and the boy fell asleep, but she didn’t mind. 

She’d stay up for a while. Just in case he needed anything. 

—

not the biggest fan of this but the next chapter is already planned and i'm very excited about it

thanks for reading ❤️

[moonlight-alexia]

frosted memories | a.p.

alexia putellas x putellas!reader ft. alba | 1.7k | growing up, things change, whether you like it or not

ˏˋ°•*⁀ wasn't too sure about the idea but i like how it turned out so i hope you like it as well! the last sentence came to me when i was about to fall asleep the other night and it turned into this. enjoy it!!

any and all feedback, comments, reblogs etc are very appreciated and welcome <3

‘Ale,’ Alexia heard your small voice and turned her head towards her bedroom door that you had slowly opened, just enough to poke your head through the gap. 

‘Pequeña,’ You smiled and slipped through the small gap when Alexia had sat up fully and tapped the spot next to her on her bed. 

Alexia wrapped an arm around you, bringing you in for a small hug when you sat next to her. You enjoyed being around your older sister, with her football responsibilities increasing over the years, you enjoyed the little moments you could still have with her.

‘Ale…’ You started, your smile had turned into a cheeky grin and your eyes shifted towards the door for a moment. Though with how you were facing Alexia couldn’t see the change, ‘You know you are mi hermana favorita, sí?’ Looking up towards Alexia, she noticed the gleam in your eyes all too well.

‘Oh? Sí?’ Alexia hummed, her eyebrow slightly raising and her lips slowly curling into an amused smirk.

‘Mhm, even more than Alba,’ You leaned in close to Alexia’s ear, whispering, like you were telling her your biggest secret. Trying to act all serious and not break your facade. 

‘Pequeña?’ If you weren’t focusing so hard on trying to get what you want you would’ve heard the slight breathy laugh Alexia let out. 

‘Shh don’t tell Alba, promesa?’ You held out your pinky and Alexia shook her head slightly, but went along with it and linked her pinky around yours.

‘Promesa pequeña,’ Alexia smiled, lifting your connected fingers to kiss yours, you let out a little giggle, one that always warmed your older sister's heart to hear, ‘Now what do you want?’ Alexia poked at your sides, making you laugh more.

‘Mi hermana favorita take us to get ice cream, por favor?’ You spoke between your little laughs, looking at Alexia with wide pleading eyes. Only you could make your eyes so wide and only you could make Alexia do whatever you wanted. You were the youngest, and as Alba would say, it automatically makes you the cutest and most tolerable to the oldest.

‘Ice cream?’ Your eyes lit up cheekily, a big smile and you squirmed out of Alexia’s arms

‘Sí! Gracias Ale!’ Alexia rolled her eyes when you opened the door fully rushing out before Alexia could say no, even if she never actually agreed. Alba, having been on the other side listening in, stumbled into you slightly, ‘Alba! Alba! Ale taking us ice cream!’ You rushed out, Alba looked past Alexia and smirked. She’d sent you in to ask Alexia, knowing she’d never say no to you and that the three of you would be going to get ice cream that afternoon.

‘Stop using her against me,’ Alexia narrowed her eyes at her younger sister, playfully nudging her when she walked past, the two of them following you out of the house.

‘Not my fault you’re weak,’

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

‘Alba, stop,’ You tried to push against your older sister, even though you were a little older now, you were still a lot smaller than both your sisters, ‘it won’t work like it used to,’ You whisper shouted, the two of you in the hallway just outside the living room where Alexia was watching some match replay.

‘No, you’re still Ale’s pequeña, even if you are a moody teen now,’ Alba tried to reason, but was met with a roll of your eyes and you crossing your arms. Alba still believed you could get anything you wanted from Alexia, being the youngest. But you were unsure, you were thirteen now, not eight like you used to be when Alba could convince you and get you to test and push Alexia’s limits.

From watching other families where the youngest always got what they wanted and asked for, Alba had learnt to use that to her advantage, even if it was getting harder the older you got, ‘Get us what we want,’ A final push from Alba when you were caught off guard had you stumbling through the doorway.

‘Dios mío,’ You grumbled under your breath, trying to regain your balance, a flush over your cheeks when you realised Alexia was staring at you now, ‘Hola Ale,’ You awkwardly smiled, rubbing your arm, slipping into the seat next to Alexia.

‘What do you want, pequeña?’ Alexia raised her eyebrow, looking at you. You frowned, faux disbelief and offense spreading across your face.

‘Qué?’ Playing into the dramatics, you placed your hand against your chest, ‘Can I not want to spend time con mi hermana favorita?’ Alexia’s eyes narrowed, you only used that on both your sisters when you wanted something. Alexia being on the receiving end more times than Alba ever has.

‘It’s been a while,’ Your tone shifted, it might have been low for you to target Alexia’s guilt to get what you want. But it was the truth. The more your older sister’s lives began to become more their own, the less time they were around and the less you got to see them.

Alexia’s eyes softened and she wrapped her arm around you, ‘Lo sé,’ Even if Alexia was the oldest, she was still young and it was easy to let herself get caught up in football. She was still learning how to juggle it all, how she could be a good sister to both you and Alba while meeting the expectations and demands that came with her blossoming career.

‘Ice cream?’ You mumbled into your sister's shoulder, having returned the hug she had pulled you into, ‘You, me, Alba, just like we used to,’

‘Sí, come on,’ Whatever Alexia had been doing she was happy to abandon to spend time with her sisters, they’d always be more important anyway.

‘You still got it pequeña,’ Alba patted you on the back when you and Alexia walked into the hallway together, where she had been waiting knowing that Alexia would yet again give in to you.

‘Before I change my mind,’ Alexia rolled her eyes while shaking her head, walking right past her two younger sisters, not waiting for them to catch up. 

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

‘I’m blaming you,’ Alexia groaned, watching you run around, chasing birds and trying to get your older sisters, who were sitting back trying to peacefully eat their own ice creams, to play with you. By play you just meant run around in circles.

‘Ay! I’m not the one who let her get ‘chocolate, chocolate y más chocolate’,’ Alba recalled your exact words when Alexia had asked you what ice cream you wanted on the walk to the shop. 

‘Pero, who used our baby sister to get the ice cream?’ 

‘No sé what you are talking about Ale,’ 

Alba was watching amused, until you grabbed her hand and forced her to play with you. Alexia was just hoping you would tire yourself out so she wasn’t returning home with you still on a sugar high. They all returned home later that afternoon with you still bouncing off the walls.

‘You remember that Ale?’ Alba laughed out, retelling her favourite memory of the three of here, ‘Mami was so mad at you,’

‘Mad at both of us,’ Alexia corrected, remembering the look your mami gave the two older girls, both of them knowing better at the time. 

‘At you,’ Alba insisted, ‘You’re the oldest,’ She shrugged and you copied her, nodding along, agreeing with Alba. The both of you laughing at the huff Alexia let out. 

‘Why I put up with you…the two of you…’ Alexia shook her head

‘Eh you love us Ale,’ You leaned your head on your older sister's shoulder, Alba doing the same on the other side. You both looking up at Alexia in the same way, with the same expression. 

Alexia sighed, a kiss to both your foreheads, ‘Unfortunately,’

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

The memories you recounted felt a lifetime away now. You sat outside the ice cream shop you and your sisters would always go to together, remembering all the laughs, tears and moments that were shared there, the three of you. Instead now you sit there alone, swirling your ice cream around in the cup, thinking about how long it’s been since either of your sisters visited. 

You were proud of them and the lives they were building for themselves. You always looked up to them and hoped to one day be just like your older sisters. In your eyes, they were and still are the best references you could have. So you sat with the guilt of feeling like they were leaving you behind. You missed them both, but you didn’t know if they missed you.

A little yap and a nudge at your hand brought you back to reality and out of the spiral your thoughts were sending you into. You smiled, scooping some of your ice cream to share with Rio. When your sisters both eventually moved out, your mami had let you get a dog. A way to distract from how empty your childhood house suddenly felt with the absence of your older sisters. It helped to an extent.

You tried to push away the negative feelings you got, especially when not far from you there was a group of girls, sisters it seemed, that reminded you of you, Alexia and Alba when you were younger. Instead you smiled, Rio taking most of your ice cream while you watched the group, imagining it to be you and your sisters.

Before Rio could demolish what was left of your ice cream you quickly took out your phone, taking a photo of your ice cream, Rio and the ice cream shop all together. You quickly pulled up the group chat you had with Alexia and Alba.

‘Telling Rio about all the times we had here, showing him the best ice cream in the world, just like Alba always said. I miss you both, te quiero mucho x’

You almost sent the message. Until the date and time of the last messages in the chat caught your eye. What was once a lively chat shared between sisters, had gone dry, an ache spread across your chest when you realised…you can’t remember the last time your sisters had properly talked to you.

[cherrysweets-world]

Eyes of the Gods X

series masterlist - part nine

Pairing: Caracalla x fem!Reader x Geta

Summary: You start to let yourself settle in with the emperors - but don’t get too comfy

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, unhealthy relationships, controlling behavior, period typical sexism, obsessive/possessive/ relationships, talk of pregnancy, dirty talk, breeding kink, historical inaccuracies, manipulative behavior, jealousy, mentions of slaves/slavery, threesome, male masturbation, fingering, attempted murder (again), induced vomiting

Word Count: 3.5k

Sticky, bruised. Satiated. You dragged your strigil along your oily skin, cleaning off evidence of your time with Geta. Steam rose and brushed against your cheeks, forcing your mind back to the feeling of Geta's fingers on you, in you.

Distracted, you placed the strigil back down and began to lazily trail your fingers through the oil water. Your hand went lower, deeper under the water, dipping into your folds. You could still feel the texture of Geta's seed lingering inside you.

What would Alba think? Geta had dismissed her, potentially destroying her life, and you had gone and fucked him as though it were nothing. Some naive part of you had thought that you could change the emperors, inspire kindness in them. It seemed they were changing you instead.

Even now you felt desire smouldering in your chest. You tilted your head back, sighed.

You knew that the things they had done were not right, that their impulsiveness and insecurity had threatened the very foundations of Rome in the past. And yet. . .

You heaved yourself from the bath, sending droplets of water scattering across the stone. Hastily you dried yourself off, slipping on a fresh tunic before heading to the door.

The material was soft against your skin. You could see tiny embroideries on the edges, golden thread that brushed against the tops of your feet with every step. The texture made you shiver. The emperors were not subtle. They intended to pry every remnant of your old life from your hands and stuff them full with - well, them.

And you had held open your hands and welcomed them.

Wincing, you thought again of Alba. That could have easily been you. A dark part of your mind whispered, but it wasn't. And that meant something.

Praetorians escorted you back to Geta's rooms. On the way, you passed several slaves. They eyed you with the usual intrigue - and perhaps something like thankfulness. It was not entirely lost on you; keeping the emperors occupied meant that others did not suffer under their forceful gaze.

It was not like it was some awful task, though. You were kept clothed, fed, entertained. Fucked. Your life had benefited under the attention of the emperors whilst others would have suffered. In return, all you had had to give up was your freedom.

And is that truly so bad, that voice whispered.

The Praetorians held the door open for you. You ducked under their arms with a quiet thank you. You could hear talking from within the next room and you padded in, clearing your throat to alert the emperors to your presence.

Caracalla was standing almost chest-to-chest with his brother, sneering up at him. Once he saw you he shouldered past Geta, coming to wind himself around your body like a familiar piece of clothing. He dragged you down to the carpet, nuzzling at your neck from behind.

"You were supposed to be for me," he huffed. "Geta is a thief."

"We discussed this," Geta dismissed, pouring himself a healthy cup of wine. "Ours. She is ours."

Caracalla ignored him, hands coming to cup your tender breasts. "Tell me," he urged, "who felt best - "  

"Brother," Geta interrupted, firm. "Enough."

"Caracalla," you said softly, hand reaching up to encircle his wrist. "Where is Dondus? I have missed her."

Eyes bright, Caracalla was quick to jump up and go to the door. You heard him bark out an order, the sound ringing throughout Geta's rooms. Geta set his wine down and offered you a hand up from the floor.

You took it and let yourself be pulled up and against his chest. He hummed a soft sound, nosing along your jawline.

"I preferred you dirty," he nipped at the lobe of your ear.

A smile flirted along the edges of your lips. Geta's eyes fixed on the small movement of your mouth, his own beginning to mimic it.

"Enchantress," he whispered.

You squealed as Dondus came scampering up your tunic, small hands pinching and tickling. She settled herself upon your shoulder, burying her hands in your still-damp hair.

"Sweet girl," you laughed, rubbing your fingers beneath her fuzzy chin.

Geta stepped back, returning to his wine. Caracalla took his place, cooing at Dondus whilst occasionally stopping to stare at your face.

"She seems to have fallen in love with you," he rasped, blinking heavily.

"And I, her," you smiled.

Caracalla continued feeding her bits and pieces of food. When he leaned in to press a kiss against your lips, it felt natural. He bit you a little, pulling back to reveal the tiniest smear of red on his grinning lips. Without thinking, you smiled back.

"There has been no updates on the man who tried to kill you," Geta suddenly said, serious.

Your stomach turned the memory. The dead men on the floor, the blood, the awful fight for your life. Moving past it seemed impossible, no matter how much you tried.

The man had to have been sent by someone inside the palace. The thought flashed across your mind, strong and urgent. How else would they have known the emperors were preoccupied, leaving you alone? You thought about the Praetorian escort and how he had allowed you to go the long way round. Had he been a part of it too?

You let Dondus climb from your shoulder before approaching Geta. You hesitated before reaching out, resting your hand on his elbow. His skin was cool despite the heat of the evening. The need to comfort him was irritating, itching the back of your mind.

"They will reveal themselves," you insisted. "They have tried twice now, to no affect. They will be back."

Geta ran his tongue over his lips. "You will remain here until they do."

"Here?" your hand fell from his elbow. "In your rooms?"

"Until they are caught," he stressed the words, reaching down to grab your dropped hand. He squeezed your hand between his. "You have become important. To him. He is better around you, healthier. I cannot risk throwing that all away."

"Important to him?" you echoed, lashes fluttering.

Geta's fingers twitched around yours. "To us."

Caracalla had been quietly creeping up behind you and now he used his body to press against your back, sandwiching you between them. Caracalla's hand slid around your front, coming to rest on your breast, above your thumping heart.

"If this was to stop," he breathed in your ear, "those responsible would wish that they had never been born."

"And of course," Geta added, his own hand coming to rest upon your stomach. "There is the matter of a potential heir."

"Heir?" you choked out, "What rights would any child of mine have?"

Caracalla snickered, pulling away. "Do not concern yourself with such things."

You wanted to ask more questions but both brothers turned from you, busying themselves with other things. Your hands twitched at your side, wanting to come to rest on your stomach. You shook your head. There was no telling whether you were already with child and the idea would only bring you more stress.

You spent the rest of the evening entwined on the bed with Caracalla, lazily twirling a curl of his hair around one of your fingers. He had practically melted into your touch, blinking up at you with hazy blue eyes whilst gently patting at your skin, drunk of the scent of you.

Geta left and came back several times. You could see him becoming increasingly frustrated, face becoming whiter as his lips got thinner, angrier.

"Fucking useless," he swore, sweeping a stack of paper to the ground.

"The Praetorians?" you asked, hand still buried in Caracalla's hair.

Geta turned to face you and seemed to relax a little at the sight of you wrapped up with his brother. He nodded, wordlessly coming to sit down beside you. He scent was one of sweat, of panic.

You reached up to cup his cheek. Beneath your fingers you could feel the barest hint of stubble and you let your fingers wander, exploring his face. Geta stared down at you like you were something miraculous. A pang of sympathy had you furrowing your brows.

Caracalla shifted beside you, dragging your eyes back to him. His cheeks were pink, lips parted as he let out little puffs of air. You could smell the sweetness of wine on his breath as his eyes scanned your face. He tilted his hips, the tiniest of movements, and you became excruciatingly aware of his length pressing into your thigh.

"Oh," you gasped, eyes darting back to Geta.

Geta cupped your hand in his, stroking his fingers down your arm, dark eyes searing into you and pinning you in place. Through out it all, your left hand continued swirling in Caracalla's hair.

"It is okay," Geta said, "he only wants relief."

"It is okay," you nodded, dazed. You were not entirely sure that it was normal to feel such levels of arousal. Your own desire suffocated you, made you weak willed and pliable. It was easy to surrender yourself to it.

Your hand fell from Caracalla's hair as he got to his knees and began to shed his clothes until he was only wearing nothing. Unbidden, your hand rose once more to tangle in the reddish brown hairs of his chest. You tugged a little, going dizzy at the frantic way Caracalla looked down at you.

Geta began to adjust your clothes, raising your tunic until it rested at your neck, baring your body. He reached down and tweaked your nipple, craning his neck down to soothe the pain with his tongue. Embarrassment was mercifully absent, allowing you to arch into his mouth.

"So good for us," Caracalla purred.

You almost passed out when Caracalla's hand fisted around his own cock and began to stroke. His knees trembled next to you on the bed as he reached down to palm at your breasts with his free hand, rolling your nipple against his skin.

Your hips began to undulate against the bed. Without thinking, you let your knees fall apart. Already you could feel the stickiness of yourself on your inner thighs. Geta sat up to admire you, hands pulling your legs further apart.

"I want to see how much you need us," he murmured.

Caracalla let out a strangled moan, hands working furiously on his flushed cock. It almost looked painful. Your mouth watered, tongue swiping at your lips, eager to soothe him. You were vaguely confused - that was one thing you had never done before. So how was it possible for you to want it so desperately?

Geta did not let you sit up. You could feel his hand on your inner thigh, keeping you spread, and there was no words for how badly you wanted that hand to touch your cunt.

"Why aren't you touching me?" you whined, twisting your hips, searching for some level of gratification.

"Sometimes the waiting makes it all the more sweet," Geta admitted. "Though Caracalla is not one for patience."

Caracalla finally took a measure of pity on you, swiping his hand through the slick mess of your cunt before securing it back on his own cock. Your clit throbbed at the brief touch.

"He proves my point," Geta quietly laughed, sliding his hand further in until finally his fingers were pressing against your swollen clit.

You almost shouted from the ripple of pleasure it sent up your spine. Geta did not stop. He began to rub tight, hot circles against your wet flesh until you were writhing, begging incoherently. Geta could not tear his eyes from your cunt and he inhaled deeply, relishing the heady scent of your skin.

"Geta, please," you moaned, rocking against his hand.

White, hot spurts of seed splashed across your stomach as Caracalla reached his end. Envious, you tried to clench your thighs around Geta's hand. Caracalla sagged into you, resting his face against your breast. The friction of your nipple against his cheek was enough to send your body splintering into pleasure.

It felt like insanity. They had wrung you dry, coaxing pleasure from you in ways that were unfamiliar to you. Climax sent any rational thoughts scattering from your brain until all you could think about was red hair and skilled fingers.

Just when you thought it was over, Geta tapped at your clit with his middle finger. Your thighs jerked at the contact and he laughed, biting playfully at the skin on your outer thigh. That felt good, too. Everything felt good with them.

"The stress does not feel so overwhelming now, I must admit," he said smugly, getting to his feet and adjusting his clothes.

The tent in his robes did not escape your attention. "What about you?" you asked.

Geta adjusted himself. "As I said, the waiting makes it sweeter."

You swallowed dryly, watching as he exited the room.

There was always a quiet buzz about the palace. A pleasant white noise that allowed you to sink into the lectus, fingers trailing the carved designs as you let your mind wander. As it got later you could hear it beginning to die down, the sound of people trailing off to bed and prepping for the next day slowly getting lower and lower until there was nothing.

Caracalla was surprisingly perky. He was flicking his way through several papers, expression floating somewhere between boredom and mild interest. Every now and then he would look up, as though to make sure you were observing him carrying out his duties, and then look back down. It was rather endearing, much to your chagrin.

Boredom was also beginning to take its toll on you. After careful deliberation, you went to make a request for wine. You made sure to say please and thank you; these people had once been your peers, after all. Every time you could not help but think that they might refuse you. They never did.

A young woman brought it to you, nervous and twitchy. You dismissed her with what you hoped was a warm smile, glancing down into the jug as you carried it to the table. You could smell the thick aroma of fermented grapes and inhaled, thirsty.

"Wine, Caracalla?"

"Mmm," he looked up, finally giving up all pretense of work and dropping his pen.

His face was open, earnest. You paused for a moment, offering him a tentative smile which he returned. Something warm flooded your chest as you bit your lip and turned to pour yourself and Caracalla a cup.

You set it on the desk, taking care not to spill any. Caracalla picked up the cup, swishing the wine around for a moment as he watched you. Under his gaze you felt warm, but it was not an unpleasant feeling.

You raised the glass to your lips, swallowing several mouthfuls without thinking. For a moment it tasted pleasant, similar to the wine you had enjoyed previously. Then it hit your esophagus your eyes bulged, hands flying out the slap Caracalla's cup away from his lips.

"Something isn't right," you choked, scratching at your throat, "something isn't right!"

Your knees buckled, forehead inches from the edge of the desk as you collapsed. There was a faint tingling in your tongue as you gagged hard enough to bring tears to your eyes. Red-tinged bile spilt from your lips as you coughed and hacked. Your throat burned from the path the tainted wine had taken.

The noise of the palace was increasing once more.

Caracalla was suddenly kneeling in front of you, deathly pale and screaming. He gripped your jaw with one hand and forced his fingers down your throat, hard. It did the trick. You threw up, a disgusting mixture of food and wine. It burned just as much coming up as it did going down, agitating the tender patch caused by Caracalla's fingers.

You wanted to reach inside your own throat and pull it out, shake the poison from your body before it reached your stomach. You knew nothing about poison but your mind still raced, searching for any tidbit of information that might save your life. It was coming up disturbingly blank.

"How much did she drink?" Geta somewhere behind you, pulling back your hair. "Charcoal. Now!"

You heard the metallic slam of metal as the cup was launched across the room, glass shattering in it's wake. Panic consumed you, shoved you back into the light of reality with a harshness you had not been prepared for.

Even as Caracalla was shoving activated charcoal into your mouth, a distant part of your brain told you this should not have been possible. There were protocols, precautions.

"Poison tester?" you enquired, voice hoarse.

"Do not speak," Caracalla said, "where is the poison tester?"

It took an hour for you to stop throwing up. Even when all that was left was stringy bile, the charcoal was determined to make sure your stomach was entirely emptied. You could not be sure whether your shakiness, burning throat and pounding headache were a result of the induced vomiting or the poison.

Poison. Someone had tried to poison the emperors - poison you. It was you who had made the request for wine. It seemed the villain had struck again, boldly, desperately.

At some point, someone had kindly slid a bucket in front of you and a pillow underneath your knees. You looked up from the bucket, meeting Geta's anxious eyes. He was kneeling in front of you, pale and trembling. Caracalla was almost glued to your back, his legs on either side of you. You could see his hands, smeared with the black mark of charcoal. Your mouth automatically began to water and you gagged again.

"What happened?" you croaked.

"The poison tester has been beaten," he said, "badly, almost to the point of death. Someone must have put something into the wine after they were to have tasted it and had it sent up."

"Who?"

Geta's bottom lip shook. "The tester believes it was Macrinus. I do not believe he intended for him to live, but the gods are on our side."

Macrinus. A memory arose of that night in the entertainment hall, the way he had slithered up to you and asked you those questions. The way it seemed like he had already known the answers. He had made you afraid then, only at the time you could not comprehend why.

The master of gladiators. A man who had access to the emperors - who had been in a meeting with them, that day when you were attacked. It made your head swim. It made you doubt all others. Caracalla's paranoia began to make sense as you thought about the countless people surrounding the emperors, how easy it might have been for any one of them to do the same thing as Macrinus.

"Is he dead?"

His was a death you would be grateful for. A death you would feel no guilt over.

"The tester? No. Macrinus? He will be."

Geta reached out, laying a hand against your forehead. Until you felt the coolness of his rings you had not been able to tell how badly you were burning up.

"They do not yet know what poison was used," his admitted, "but they said that vomiting is a good sign."

"Where is Macrinus now?" you asked, shifting to ease the pressure on your knees. Uneasy, your eyes scanned the room as though you expected him to come leaping from the shadows, brandishing a dagger.

"He has likely been taken into custody. It is as you said; he could not resist another attempt. He became careless and decided to carry out the act himself," Geta nodded as he spoke, mostly to himself.

"Go," you insisted, squeezing his fingers. "Perhaps you can find out what he used."

It scared you to send Geta out into the palace in a way you had not expected. The only thing that eased your fear was that Macrinus had been caught . It had been him this whole time, you were sure of it.

Geta's nostrils flared as he debated, eyes darting from Caracalla to you. Caracalla shifted closer and said something over your shoulder that you did not catch. Whatever it was seemed to reassure Geta and he got to his feet, resolute.

The scene was grim. There was vomit splashed across the floor and carpet. You could see the wine you had knocked from Caracalla's hands too, tiny specks of it all over his clothing. Was it possible that the gods had taken mercy on you once more?

Lightheaded, you brought your hand down to rest on your stomach. What if you had been with child? Would this have destroyed the babe? Killed it in your womb before it could even take it's first breath? Perhaps, in saving you, the gods were trying to tell you something.

This was no place for a child.

Authors Note - the villain is finally revealed. An Anon sent me an ask suspecting it was Macrinus but I didn’t post just in case there was anyone who wasn’t sure! Not that it was super subtle

These murder attempts are beginning to take a toll on poor Reader. I wonder what she will do in response🤔 hopefully not anything super reckless and crazy!

Please make sure to like/comment/reblog if you enjoyed! Interaction is everything!

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[skipper1331]

I love you (?) // Alexia Putellas

Love

L-O-V-E

A word with a lot and heavy meaning. It wasn't something you just said randomly every day - maybe some people did, but not Alexia. Love meant a lot to her. She came from a well-educated household where love and solidarity were a priority. Her family meant the world to her, she loved her family.

Football meant a lot to her too, she loved football and the friends she had made through it.

Alexia was known to be stern, someone of few words and someone who chose her words carefully. She’s a known person - it came with the business. So she certainly didn't say the words "I love you" carelessly or to everyone.

The only two people who heard it regularly were her mother and sister. All the other people just knew by her actions and caring nature.

And then there was you.

You had crept into her heart with your shy smiles, big grin and addicting laugh.

She wasn’t sure at first if she should ask you out - it took a lot of convincing (thanks to Mapi) to do so.

It surprised her when you agreed but it was obvious to anyone in the Barcelona squad - she was head over heels for you while you also were totally smitten for the captain.

Fast forward, 6 months into your relationship the words "I love you" lingered in the back of Alexia‘s mind. She hadn‘t said those words yet, neither had you.

You knew Alexia was careful and shy, sometimes even scared - it took awhile to break her walls down, so you respected her pace. The feelings also new for you.

The pace was perfect for both of you, nothing rushed or hasty.

But as the days went by, Alexia‘s feelings grew stronger and stronger. At night she thought she‘d explode at some point because she didn’t express herself to anyone.

The words were on the tip of her tongue, all day, everyday.

She wanted to say them.

She really did.

But it was a big step in your relationship. Would you say it back? Did you even feel the same way? What if not?

You meant a lot to her, she didn’t want to ruin anything - everything she had with you was so so special and precious, innocent even.

At the perfect moments, she remained silent, as she had so many times before. It wasn't just an "I love you" it was so much more. Love didn't even come close to what she felt yet it was the closest thing to describe what she felt when she was with you. It was weird.

It was chaotic in her head, her thoughts not organized or structured. It annoyed her. Order was very important to her, especially in her head - after all, that and her talent had made her the best football player in the world. So she didn't like the fact that there was now a lot of chaos.

Normally, she would have talked to you about it, but since it involved you, she couldn't do that.

A different solution had to be found as quickly as possible.

In the next few days, she asked herself what to do. Who could she confide in?

1. you

2. Mami (+ Alba)

3. Alba (+Mami)

4. Mapi

That was the list of people she could always talk to, even if it was often difficult for her - like now.

And that‘s when it hit her.

If she could tell her mother, sister and best friend that she loved you, she could tell you too.

Step by step.

telling her mother

Alexia stood in the kitchen with her mother, preparing dinner while Alba and you set the table. Ale‘s eyes lingered on you, a love sick smile plastered on her face, eyes screaming hearts. She loved the bond you had with her sister. Alba often joked that you were also her sister, which in the future you definitely would be as her sister in law.

The older Putellas watched the scene in front of her, her heart bursting at every laugh she heard. You fit in perfectly with her family - everything was so harmonious, loving and caring, almost too perfect to be true - the most important people united.

Deep breaths, "I love her" she admitted to her mother. It was the first time ever she said that out loud. Her cheeks were bright red.

She didn’t look at her mother, neither at you because suddenly the vegetables in her hands were very interesting.

"Oh, I know" Eli chuckled, the footballer dropping the knife and turning towards her mother.

"You know?"

"I can see it in your eyes"

her sister

The Putellas sisters sat in their local coffee shop for their weekly catch up. Since their teenage years they had the tradition to at least sit together for a coffee once a week. Sometimes it was just for 5 minutes, sometimes for hours, sometimes early in the morning, sometimes in the evening, depending on the schedule.

"Ale, are you listening?" Alba waved her hand in front of her sisters face.

"Que? Lo siento, what did you say?" she stated, her mind had drifted back to you.

Alexia knew you were waiting in her apartment, probably still on the couch where she had left you with a kiss. Or maybe you were in the kitchen? Getting a snack? Or in bedroom reading a book?

I love you

"Thinking about your girlfriend, hm?" the younger Putellas raised a brow while taking a sip of her coffee.

"Sí, lo siento. Please tell me again what you were saying?"

Alba started once again but quickly realized that her sisters mind was somewhere else.

"Come on, Alexia. What‘s going on?" this time Alba flicked the footballers nose to get her attention, "absent again" she explained when the midfielder grumbled confused at her little sister.

"What‘s on your mind?"

"I love her"

"okay…?"

Alexia furrowed her brows, "I love her" repeating her words.

"okay…? I know" Alba repeated her words as well, questioning what the problem was.

"You know too?"

"hermana, you talk about her all the time, like non-stop" she laughed, "it‘s quite obvious that you love her"

telling Mapi

Just a few hours ago, the team had won the champions league trophy - it felt euphoric, everybody high on the adrenaline and joy.

Mapi and Ale watched Ingrid and you dancing on the dance floor, medals around your necks, singing to the song that‘s blasting through the club.

"I‘ve never seen you so happy" Mapi stated as Alexia took a sip of her drink, her own medal still around her neck.

"I love her"

"Oh, I know"

"why does everyone know this?" Alexia furrowed her brows, a frown displayed on her features.

Mapi laughed at her friend, throwing an arm around her shoulder.

"Ale, seriously? You look at her like she hung the moon. You talk about her all the time. You follow her around like a lost puppy. You sulk the whole day when she‘s not there. You beam from ear to ear when she‘s holding your hand. You-"

Alexia cut her off with a hand covering her mouth, "I get it!" her cheeks crimson red as she shied away from the defender as soon as she had stopped talking.

"You‘re the same way with her, like I’m with Ingrid. We‘re both lucky to have such sweethearts in our life. So, don‘t fuck it up"

"Don’t mess up either" Alexia laughed. Mapi was absolutely right: The captain was head over heels for you, totally smitten and unconditionally in love with you. She had never been so happy before - with you, she felt lightheaded and free, something that was rare in the life of a professional athlete.

She loved you.

And was so thankful to have you in her life - being able to call you hers, hers only.

"I wouldn’t dream of it" Mapi agreed, feeling the exact same about Ingrid, raising her drink.

"Salud"

telling you

"Amor!" Alexia belly laughed, running after you as had thrown multiple paper balls at her to get her attention, her attention too focused on the tv. You ran around her apartment, the girl close behind, almost catching you in the kitchen.

Though, she did caught you in the bedroom, where she quickly wrapped her arms around your middle and tackled you onto the bed.

"Amor, that wasn‘t very nice of you" she stated firmly yet you could see the smile she was trying to hide.

"I was only concerned about your well-being!" you defended yourself, trying to wiggle out out of Alexia’s grasp which Alexia denied as she straddled your waist, pinning your arms down. "I was afraid that the wrinkle on between your brows would stay permanent if you had kept that look on your face any longer" you stated innocently - the same expression plastering her face once again, causing you to laugh.

"Laughing at me, hm, amor" her fingers slid along your arms before they suddenly started to tickle you.

The room was filled with laughter, yours (which was music for Alexia‘s ears) and her own.

"I give up! I give up!"

"You shouldn’t mess with me" the midfielder giggled.

Silence followed, both of you staring in each others eyes with so much love and adoration.

Slowly, Alexia leaned forward, her hands cupping your cheeks while your hands rested on Alexia’s thighs as you met in the middle.

Both of your minds went blank as you kissed one another, hearts racing, skin tingling, cheeks burning.

Pulling back, Ale still had her eyes closed, taking in and appreciating the moment.

"I love you"

it was whispered yet loud and clear.

The midfielder looked at you - the way your face lit up, smile wider than she‘d ever seen before, eyes full of happiness looking at her.

"I love you too"

The older girl matched your expression, hardly hiding her emotions.

"Say it again, por favor"

You happily did, "I love you, Alexia."

Sighing contently, she leaned her forehead against yours, "again, por favor" and that‘s what you did, your girlfriend repeating your words each time.

Because she really did love you.

Ps. She had practiced it more often than she liked to admit in front of the mirror.

"I love you"

"I love you"

"I love you"

"I love you"

"I love you“

Because practice makes the best, right?

[futfemfantasies]

Hello, I hope you're well, if you write for mass you can do a story where you date Alexia or Jenni's sister, and they don't take kindly to the relationship you have together

Captain’s little sister // Alexia Putellas x reader

The first time you met Alba you were smitten. It was at a post-match dinner in Barcelona after the team's Copa de la Reina final win. As the newest addition to the squad, this was your first trophy win so it was pretty special. 

Alba wasn’t like her sister. She was quieter, with a love for teaching that made her world apart from the football-dominated universe that you and Alexia inhabited. Both your and Alba’s eyes met for a second from across the room and for a brief moment, the noise of the bustling restaurant faded into the background. 

“Y/N, this is my sister, Alba,” Alexia proudly introduced. “She’s studying teaching at the University of Barcelona.”

“Nice to meet you.” You had said, your voice faltering slightly under the intensity of Alba’s gaze.

Over the following months, you found yourself increasingly drawn closer to Alba. It started innocently: a few shared conversations post match when playing at home, a coffee even now and again when Alexia was busy. Alba, for her part, was equally captivated. She admired your dedication to being the best for Barça and for the Lionesses on the international stage. 

The first time they kissed, it was after a late-night walk along the Barcelona beachfront. The lights of the city reflected off the water as Alba leaned in, her expression nervous but determined. You didn’t pull away. In that moment, all that mattered was Alba’s hand on your waist pulling you closer and the unspoken connection you both shared. 

The relationship was hidden for a while. It wasn’t out of shame, but out of caution. You knew how protective Alexia was of Alba. You had seen it firsthand in how Alexia watched over her sister, ensuring she stayed out of the public eye and away from unnecessary scrutiny. 

Hiding their relationship meant dodging questions and sneaking around, which became increasingly difficult as Alba started attending more matches. You could feel Alexia’s eyes on you during team dinners and training sessions, her gaze sharp and questioning. 

One night after training, Alexia questions her suspicions. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with Alba.”

“She’s great company,” You replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

Alexia nodded slowly, her expression unreadable. “ Just remember - she’s my little sister. Be careful with her.”

You nodded, but your heart ached at the unspoken implications. 

The truth unraveled during international break. Reader had flown back to England to represent the Lionesses in a few friendlies, while Alexia was with the Spanish national team. Alba, missing you, had posted a photo on her instagram story with the caption missing her a little bit more today :(  - a candid photo of you walking in front of Alba on the beach. It was meant to be private, shared only to Alba’s close friends, but somehow, it reached Alexia. 

The call came late at night, just as you closed your hotel room door after a game. 

“What the hell is this?” Alexia’s voice was sharp, her anger palpable even through the phone.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Alexia I-”

“You’re dating Alba? My sister?”

“Yes,” Reader admitted, your voice steady despite the guilt eating away at you. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but I care about her. A lot.”

There was a long pause before Alexia spoke again, her voice quieter but no less intense. “Do you have any idea what you’re getting into? What this could mean for her? For us as teammates?”

“I do,” You said firmly. “And I would never do anything to hurt her. Or you.”

The conversation ended without another word spoken, leaving you with a sinking feeling that things were about to get much worse. 

After international break concluded, the tension between you and Alexia was impossible to ignore. On the pitch, Alexia was professional, but her passes to you were a tad too hard, her instructions clipped and cold. 

Alba was caught in the middle. She tried to mediate, but Alexia’s stubbornness and your guilt made the progress slow. 

“She’ll come around,” Alba reassured you as you both cuddled up on her couch. “She just needs time.”

“I hope you’re right.” You said, your voice heavy with doubt as you pull the blanket on you both.

The breaking point came during a Champions League match against Lyon. With the game tied and minutes left on the clock, a crucial miscommunication between you and Alexia led to a turnover and a Lyon goal. The defeat stung, but Alexia’s reaction stung worse. 

“What were you thinking?” she snapped in the locker room afterward, her voice echoing off the walls. 

You stood your ground, enough was enough. “Maybe if you weren’t so focused on punishing me for dating Alba, we wouldn’t have lost!”

The room fell silent. Alexia stared at you, her expression a mix of shock and anger. Without another word, you grabbed your bag and left. 

The next day at training, the tension between you and Alexia reached a boiling point. It started with a misplaced pass. You had been open, calling for the ball, but Alexia ignored you, opting to pass to another teammate instead. You clenched your jaw, letting it go, a few hands patting your shoulder as the drill gets restarted. But then it happened again. And again. 

“Alexia!” You snapped, stopping mid-drill, clearing having enough of Alexia’s actions. The other players glanced around uneasily, sensing the brewing storm. “Are you seriously going to freeze me out during training?”

Alexia turned, her expression cold. “Maybe if you focused on the game instead of my sister, we wouldn’t have lost to Lyon.”

The words hit like a punch to the gut. Reader’s chest tightened as they stared at Alexia, anger and hurt boiling over. “That’s what this is about? You can’t handle the fact that Alba and I are together,, so you’re sabotaging the team?”

Alexia’s jaw clenched, her eyes narrowing. “I’m not sabotaging anything, I just don’t trust you anymore.” 

“Why? Because I’m dating Alba? Or because you can’t control this part of her life?” You shot back, voice rising.

The other players shifted uncomfortably as they looked towards their coach to step in. “That’s enough. Both of you, off the pitch. Now!”

You sat on the bench outside the training centre, waiting for Alba to pick you up since your car is getting repaired. The argument replayed in your mind, the words cutting deeper than the last. You hear a car pull up and see Alba with her gorgeous smile looking at you with worry. You wipe away tears and quickly get in her car. Alba didn’t even have to ask how your day was before you started rambling about everything that happened. 

That evening, Alba stormed into Alexia’s apartment, her face flushed with anger. Alexia barely had time to process her arrival before Alba started speaking. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” Alba demanded, her voice trembling. “Why can’t you just be happy for me?”

Alexia frowned, her defences immediately going up. “I’m trying to protect you.”

“From what?” Alba snapped. “From being happy? From falling in love?” Y/n isn’t some random fling, Alexia. She cares about me. She loves me.”

Alexia’s jaw tightened. “And what happens when it all goes wrong? When she leaves? Do you have any idea how hard it is to put yourself back together after someone breaks you?”

Alba’s expression softened slightly, but her voice remained firm. “I know you’re scared. I know you think you’re protecting me. But this isn’t about you. This is my life Alexia. And you’re pushing me away because you can’t let go”

Alexia closed her eyes, guilt washing over her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just…I don’t want to lose you.”

“You’re not going to lose me,” Alba said softly, sitting next to her sister. “But if you keep this up, you might lose both of us.”

The next day, Alexia approached you in the dressing room, her expression hesitant. The rest of the team had left already, leaving the two of them alone. 

“I owe you an apology,” Alexia said, her voice quiet. “I’ve been unfair to you. To both of you.”

You looked at Alexia warily, unsure if this was a genuine truce or another fight waiting to happen. “Why now?”

Alexia sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Because Alba made me realise I’ve been holding onto my fears instead of trusting her. She’s happy with you, the happiest she’s been in a long time. And I don’t want to be the reason that changes.”

You nodded slowly, your shoulders relaxing for the first time in weeks. “I don’t want to come between you and Alba. I just want her to be happy. And I want us to work as a team.”

Alexia offered a small smile. “Then let’s try again. For her. For the team.”

Things didn’t change overnight, but the frost between you and Alexia began to thaw. Slowly, you both rebuilt your partnership on the pitch, learning to trust each other again. 

Alba, meanwhile, was a constant source of light in your life. Her support and patience made the challenges worth it. Over time, even Alexia began to see the happiness you brought each other. 

Slowly, piece by piece, they all began to rebuild what had been broken.

[copper-16]

Reminds Me That There's A Room To Grow Part 2

A love unraveled and yet incomparable. Where are two people to go from here?

(a/n: Here is part 2! I am so glad everyone is enjoying this so far, I've had a lot of fun writing it and getting to be creative! I’ll see everyone next Monday for installment 3 - can’t wait to hear everyone’s thoughts!)

Alexia wasn’t sure exactly what she had expected when she barged into her Mami's house the morning after seeing you at the event, dragging Alba behind her.  

But it definitely wasn’t this. 

She had explained everything to the two of them, with a carefully constructed amount of excitement. The footballer didn’t want to seem overeager, but she also found elation building within herself the more she thought about what had occurred. 

She had never expected to see you again, but there you were. Not only that, you weren’t with anyone. You still had the capacity to love her. There was a chance that Alexia hadn’t lost you, and she held onto that hope like a fire lit deep within her chest. She was almost delirious with relief at the realization that maybe the last nine years hadn’t been a total waste, that maybe she had just been waiting for you to return. It threatened to consume her, and she felt as though nothing could break the jouissance that filled her. 

At least, that was what she thought, until Eli and Alba brought her back to reality with their contradicting opinions. 

“She’s here you guys, she’s here in Barcelona. After all these years, Flori is still here and she wants to see me,” Alexia told her family, a brightness in her eyes that hadn’t been present in years. Despite this, Eli and Alba both had a frown on their face as they glanced at each other with skepticism. There was an awkward pause before Alba finally turned toward her sister with a charged look. 

“Ale,” Alba started lightly, trying not to sound too negative. “It has been nine years. Is it possible that Flori has moved on? She was the one who stayed behind, after all.” 

Her younger sister's words were pointed if not entirely incorrect. 

“Do you even know what happened? You never got an answer from her, and now she has shown up at this event with absolutely no warning,” Eli continued, a point that Alba quickly found herself agreeing with. 

When they had all left Madrid, Eli and Alba never expected to lose you so suddenly. 

Where Alexia was upset, they were angry. Angry that you had hurt Alexia for no logical reason, angry that you had done it when Alexia was at her most vulnerable, angry that you were no longer there. They had trusted you with Alexia’s heart, and you had betrayed them. Forgiveness was not possible in their eyes, not after what had occurred. 

Eli missed your mother, who had grown to become a dear friend. Alba had lost your younger brothers, Adan and Leo, who she had been close with. The breakup had been a clean break in the literal sense, but emotionally it had been so much more complex than that. There was nothing but frustrating feelings and a wretched sense of loss for all of them. Where Alexia had softened over time, becoming more sympathetic, the rest of her family had hardened in their negative feelings toward you. 

It was valiant if not feeble that the footballer tried to argue on your behalf. 

“She is here now, and time has passed. Why would I not at least give her the chance to atone or explain herself?” Alexia argued as she furrowed her brows. She looked between her sister and Mami, feeling disheartened by their reaction. 

“She gave up that right years ago Ale, when she let you leave in the midst of Papi dying and you moving to go to your dream club. She let you go, she never reached out, she never explained herself. Does that not bother you?” Alba pressed, unyielding in her temperament. 

“It has been a decade practically, and she never tried. She let you go, ripped up your heart into pieces, and walked out of that door with no remorse. We were all hurt by it, but you should be the most betrayed! She was supposed to love you, and she left you instead. Don’t tell me that hasn’t been the thing that stuck out to you the most in the past nine years?” Alba continued as her words lashed out like a whip, threatening to send Alexia’s sense of stability and hope crashing to the ground. 

“I have a chance to be happy, and you want me to give it away! Does that not bother you?” Alexia spat back as her defensiveness mounted. She stared her sister down with an intensity that usually was only found when she was playing football, not speaking to a member of her family. 

“No, what you have is a chance to be hurt again, and based on past events, that is exactly what is going to happen Alexia. Don’t be stupid,” Alba shot back, and Eli quickly placed a hand on her younger daughter's arm to stop her. 

The room came to a hard stop, but the brunette’s heart beat too fast in her chest to notice. 

Had she made a mistake in trying to be forgiving toward you? 

What if her family had a point? 

“Alba is critical but what she says is in your best interest Alexia. Regardless of how you felt about your relationship, Flori hurt you irreparably. Are you sure you want to let her in again? Is that a risk you want to take?” Eli inquired gently, her voice much softer than the loud argument of her daughters. Alexia took a deep breath, forcing herself to be calm outwardly even if she felt anything but on the inside. 

You had hurt her a lot. And they said it was irreparable, but the brunette was beginning to wonder if only you could be the one to soothe the ache. It had been nine years, and she had never once come close to feeling the same way about anyone else as you. 

But you had hurt her. 

Her mother and sister were not wrong in their basis of judgment. Alexia was beginning to wonder if she had been too naive, too focused on not looking a gift horse in the mouth to see the points her family had laid out. 

The Catalan wondered if you would explain yourself fully to her if asked. She hoped dearly that the answer would be yes, but maybe she didn’t know you as well as she thought she did. 

Maybe it was stupid to trust you after all these years. As much as Alexia had wanted to be mad about everything, she could never bring herself to fault you for what happened when you were both eighteen years old. She had always just assumed that the reason had to be big for you to make the choice you had. 

But maybe it wasn’t like that at all. Maybe she had just been too trusting, too loving.

“I…I’ve spent the last nine years thinking about her, loving her, whether I wanted to or not. I know you aren’t as trusting as I am, and maybe I shouldn’t be so hopeful. But I at least want to know what happened to us that led to her making the decision she did. I need that, at the very least,” Alexia decided as her mother and sister nodded wearily. 

Alexia had always taken the blame for what had happened, even if it had been a subconscious realization. She had simply assumed that whatever it was had been her fault. The brunette must have done something for you to make such a drastic choice not to be with her after so long together. 

Eli and Alba’s arguments rang in her head, creating a commotion in her mind of conflicting information. Perhaps it wasn’t her fault, but rather something on your end. 

She wasn’t sure now. 

All that the footballer knew was that by the time she left her Mami’s house, she felt a lot more lost than she had last night. Lost, confused, and drained of any excitement that had been present just an hour previously. 

—

You had woken up the morning after the event in a trance, unable to place your own feelings. 

Had last night really happened? 

Your dress was still on the hanger, just as you had placed it last night. The ghosting of mascara under your eyes left proof of your makeup, proof of the tears you had shed on the walk home. 

All of these years later, and there she was. Somehow just as perfect and illustrious as you had remembered her to be. Nine years on and she remained unchanged, unyielding despite her newfound fame. 

You had changed a lot in those nine years. And truth be told, you thought often of the footballer, though you tried impossibly hard not to. After all, it had been you who had left. It had been your own choice to sever everything the two of you had. 

You had your reasons, sure, but it had still been you. The choice for you to make decisions in your relationship with Alexia had been revoked in that instance, and you forced yourself to try and forget all that you had lost. 

To try and forget the feeling of being held in her arms. To forget the way she curled around you as you slept, or crawled into your lap to take a nap after a long day of training. To forget how much you two laughed together, how exceedingly happy she had made you. 

You had lost all of that, and there was nothing that changed that fact. 

It was ostensibly clear why you had moved to Barcelona five years ago, even if you vehemently denied that the move was because of the Catalan you once called home. But her dream had been yours as well, and even if you were later, you still had to come. 

You found yourself in the stands of her games often, tucked in the back with a hat pulled over your head, avoiding her gaze and that of her family as well. You probably shouldn’t have been there, but you had turned into quite the masochist in the wake of losing her. 

She looked free on the field, exactly as you remembered her. Focused, ardent, driven, mirthful, intelligent, protective. 

Everything you had loved and lost. 

It’s not that there hadn’t been opportunities to see her again, especially when you had first moved and you both were young. But you never took them, knowing that it wasn’t your right. Alexia was happy, and you would never interrupt her peace for your own yearning. 

After last night though…you weren’t sure if the word you would describe her as was peaceful. It was possible you were reading too much into things, but there was an air of longing present in the brunette that confused you more than you expected. 

You wondered if she would call you, but you had no way of knowing. 

It needed to be that way. This needed to be her choice, her decision. You had been the one to take it away, and you gave it back to her almost a decade later. 

There was hope in your body, a nascent festering that took root no matter how hard you attempted to stop it in its tracks. But at the end of the day, you would gladly give back to her the right to choose in favor of everything you dreamed and desired. 

You would make peace with whatever decision that was, no matter the cost to your own happiness. 

—

“You–I’m sorry, you what?” Jenni blurted out as she glimpsed over at Mariona, who found herself just as confused and taken aback by what the brunette had just described. 

Alexia leaned back in her chair as she let out a forced breath. Her participation in this lunch was more compulsory than anything else after an entire practice of her “acting weird,” according to the striker. 

Mariona had been dragged along for a second opinion, though the midfielder had found herself growing more and more curious as Jenni’s pestering turned into real answers from the brunette. The raven-haired woman, while annoying at times, had been friends with Alexia for long enough to know when she needed a bit of a push to talk. 

For Alexia to admit that the reason she was bothered was because she had a long lost childhood lover was not exactly what Jenni was expecting. But the striker was nothing if not able to work with what she was given. 

“Let me get this straight,” the older woman began as she leaned forward against the table. “You met when you guys were like five, grew up together, started dating when you were teenagers, then were supposed to move here together, but she broke things off suddenly right before you left and you haven’t seen her since?” 

“That is correct,” Alexia conceded warily, well aware of how slightly ridiculous it seemed as a story. 

“And all of these years, you haven’t stopped thinking about her? A decade later and you’re still hung up on her?” Jenni asked incredulously, her voice nearly an octave higher than it usually was. She seemed to be out of her mind at the thought, and the brunette slunk down further into her chair, feeling overly barren. 

“You hook up with women like there is a prize for who gets the highest body count,” Alexia shot back, trying to come off as more annoyed than exposed. 

Mariona looked miffed at the vulgarity of the statement while Jenni shrugged, acquiescence in her expression. 

“Low blow Alexia,” the midfielder noted briefly, but the striker waved her off easily. 

“The woman isn’t entirely wrong, but more importantly she’s deflecting. Okay, so you’re still in love with the woman. And it just so happens that she’s randomly at the Spotify event they sent you to, and she’s still in love with you as well?” 

“Well not quite but…” Alexia started to disagree before she trailed off, her friends eyeing her with unconvinced expressions. 

“Yes, fine, sure,” she amended crossly. 

“She just happened to be at the same event? What does she do for work?” Mariona raised her eyebrow, suspicious of a coincidence that large. Alexia paused for a moment as she struggled to think of an answer. All she was drawing was a big blank, and the realization that maybe she should have been more suspicious about this whole thing. 

“I…I have no idea. I didn’t ask! She was just right in front of me, and I panicked, I didn’t know what to do!” Alexia said restlessly, the amount of fidgeting in her seat a clear indication of her nervousness. 

“Wow…she made the great Alexia Putellas panic? I’ve seen you send away more girls than a persnickety Playboy photographer.” 

“Jennifer!”

“Sorry, sorry! Anywho, you panicked, and then what happened?” Jenni amended, a saccharine smile plastered on her face. The raven-haired woman was absolutely devouring this, fighting valiantly not to smile like the cheshire cat. 

“And then we went on a walk and talked for a few minutes, she gave me her number and told me to call her, and she left,” Alexia finished lamely, sinking back into her seat. She surveyed her two friends, who only looked at her with interested expressions. 

“Okay…and what are you going to do?” Mariona inquired once she realized that Alexia wasn’t going to say anything more. 

“I don’t know what to do! My family thinks that I shouldn’t call her, that she has hurt me too much. That maybe she doesn’t deserve to be in my life anymore. What do you guys think I should do?” Alexia. 

“Listen, it seems to be a weird coincidence to me personally. All of the sudden you start to get famous and she just happens to pop up? That is a little weird to me. It sounds like this person hurt you deeply Ale, and it has stuck with you. Are you sure you want to rehash everything?” Mariona pressed, her words strict and condemning.

“I’m not sure if I do. I’ve spent the last decade thinking of her, and then suddenly she was there and I just…I didn’t know what to do with myself. I never imagined her being in my life again, and there she was! I spent my whole childhood loving her. I never saw myself with anyone else,” Alexia admitted quietly as she wrung her hands together for a moment before setting them down in her lap, unable to make her own mind up. 

The vast majority of Alexia’s teammates had never heard of you at all. Jenni was a little too old, Mariona a little too young. Those who had known of you had forgotten, easily deterred by Alexia telling them you had broken up, unrealizing of how much it meant for the midfielder to lose you. 

Mariona had begun to speak again, but the striker had tuned the two of them out, thinking quietly to herself for once. 

As much as she teased, Jenni watched her friend with a keen, knowing eye. There had to be a damn good reason for Alexia to turn away all of those girls. It wasn’t just their looks, some of them were lovely and intelligent and hilarious, and still the star midfielder had absolutely no interest in them whatsoever. 

Almost as if she was waiting for something else. 

Someone else. 

All these years there had been something missing in her, as though she looked for someone who never came through the door. Jenni had never known what was wrong enough to ask, but now she was beginning to piece together the importance of you to Alexia. Where everyone else saw reasons to criticize and judge, the striker was stuck on Alexia’s words. 

How the desire and longing seemed unable to be contained and reasoned with, despite all of the evidence to the contrary. 

“What do you want?” Jenni cut both of them off suddenly, eliciting a frustrated noise from Mariona and a surprised look from the brunette. 

“I don’t know what I want!” Alexia huffed out with frustration, but the raven-haired didn’t accept that quite so easily. There were too many hands in the pot here. Alexia had always known what she wanted to do, she was simply being deterred. 

“No, you do. You’re convoluted with everyone else’s opinions, but I think you know exactly what you want. What is it that you want Alexia?” Jenni’s eyes never wavered from Alexias, as if daring her to look away. 

She knew that the Catalan wouldn’t, and she was right. 

Alexia stared right at her friend, knowing exactly what choice she needed to make for herself. Not for anyone else, but for herself. 

At the very least, she needed to know what had happened to lose you the first time.

—

Alexia told herself she would call you in a few days, giving herself some time to cool off and think things through. 

She couldn’t even make it through a few hours before she was digging up the card you had given her and typing the number into her phone. The phone rang once, twice, three times before you picked up, and despite herself the Catalan let out a sigh of relief that you had picked up at all. 

“Hello?” You said dutifully as you held your ear to the phone, unaware of who was on the end of the line. There was silence for a long moment, long enough that you questioned if anyone was even there, before sound finally came through.

“Hi,” Alexia choked out, failing to keep her voice as calm and unbothered as she had told herself she would be. 

“Hi Alexia,” you replied, fighting to seem as unphased as possible. You were shocked she had called you, and your heart beat so rapidly in your chest it felt as though it was fluttering. 

“I know it’s sudden…but can you talk tonight?” The footballer blurted out after a few seconds. Your heart constricted with panic, but you swallowed it down and forced yourself to remain agreeable and steady. 

“Absolutely. What time and where should I meet you?” You questioned as you took a deep, bracing breath. You listened as Alexia rattled off an address and the two of you agreed to meet in an hour before she hung up. 

This might be your last chance to tell her the truth. Would it be worth it though? Was the possibility of creating an ache in her chest worth revealing what had really occurred? 

You knew her, and you knew that her guilt would be immense even if the situation was completely out of her control. You made the choice for her, knowing that it was the right one. But you were unsure if she would see it that way. Perhaps she would only see the hurt you had caused her unnecessarily, and that would be the end of it. Maybe that should just be the end of it, allowing her some answers while allowing her to move forward with her life. 

It had been nearly a decade. You had been without her nearly as long as you had been with her, and a piece of you knew that the ache would never disappear. You would always yearn for her, even if she decided to move on. 

But that was a right she had earned, and you had lost. 

It had been your own fault after all, that turned you two into this unsure, bumbling mess of emotions and challenges and strife. You would have done anything to change that if you could have. 

It was your fault but not your doing, at the end of the day. 

You arrived at the beach where Alexia told you to meet her a little early, which allowed you to sit down at a bench and look out at the ocean waves that poured in and out. You granted yourself that small moment of grace on the nearly empty beach as you slipped your sandals off and felt the lingering warmth of the sand under your feet as the sun slid behind the ocean. 

You didn’t notice Alexia’s approach until she was in front of you, and though you offered her the seat next to you silently, she didn’t take it. 

It should have been this that informed you that it would go downhill from there, but you clung to the hope that maybe this would be a productive conversation. You still didn’t know what to say exactly, but you knew you were not going to be dishonest. 

Alexia’s eyes examined you critically, as if she didn’t believe that it was really you. 

“How did you end up at the event the other day in the first place?” She inquired after a moment, and you can’t help but furrow your brows in confusion, lost as to why this was the first question she asked. Lost as to where all of this hostility came from, when you had yet to say a single thing. 

You had expected her to become angered as the conversation went on, but she already seemed cross and you had yet to say a word. 

“I work for Morgan Stanley doing investment consulting and management specifically with Spotify. I’ve become close with the people at the company as I work with them most days, and they invited me to the event. There were investors and important stakeholders that I was able to meet in person. I’ve come to the same event every year for the last three years,” you disclosed to the brunette, but the skepticism and hostility in her eyes never wavered despite your clarity. 

“Did you see me before we ran into each other?” She interrogated, and you settled into your seat uneasily. This felt less like a conversation and more like she was drilling you, waiting for you to slip up and say the wrong thing. 

“At the event, or in general?” You replied, wanting nothing but honesty in your responses. You could give her that, even if the air between you two was charged with more tension than you expected. 

“Both.” Alexia crossed her arms, everything in her posture defensive and frustrated. 

“At the event, no. I didn’t know until I was standing right in front of you,” you clarified, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear to avoid fidgeting nervously. “In general, yes I had seen you. Only from afar though, at your games over the years. I never would have approached you.” 

I never would have approached you. 

Alexia felt every defense in her mind light up at that statement. When had you decided you were so utterly done with having her in your life? All the Catalan could think of was her mother and sister warning her that this was going to be a mistake. All she could think of was Mariona who talked about how strange the coincidence was that the two of you had run into her, as though it was so suspicious. 

You had left and hurt her. 

It had been your fault, that is what all the evidence seemed to tell her. 

Something pulled at the brunette’s mind though, something that begged her not to be so bellicose. Something that screamed at her that there was more to the story, and that handling everything this way was a horrible idea. 

Fear seemed to rule her though, rearing an ugly head that the midfielder was not proud of. 

“How many years,” she beseeched, fighting the wave of tears she could feel stinging at the back of her eyes. Her voice was low, wavering in a way that betrayed her emotions more than she cared to admit. You had let out a low sigh as you hung your head. 

“Five years. I’ve been in Barcelona for five years, and I’ve been coming to your games on and off for five years” you finally confessed as you shook your head. You looked up at the Catalan, who seemed caught between devastation and outrage. 

“You moved here five years ago and didn’t even think to come and talk to me? You never thought to check on me, to try and reach out?” Alexia seethed, burying her hurt behind a mask of fury. More than anything, the footballer felt like her whole chest had caved in. 

“No I didn’t. I had broken up with you Alexia, that was the choice I made. I wasn’t going to come barging back in four years later and demand that you take me back,” You tried gallantly to remain calm, even in the face of Alexia’s vexation. The brunette hated your answer, throwing her hands up in acute frustration. 

“You never even bothered to ask! You might have taken away my choice once, but you’ve spent five more years taking that choice away. You are a coward,” Alexia accused, pointing a finger at you even as everything in her screamed not to. She would regret what she said in the light of day, but all she felt right now was wounded. There was an intense urge to protect what little pride still remained inside her, and apparently in order to accomplish that she needed to lash out. 

You met her toe for toe though, not giving her the anger she wanted exactly but rather a sense of indignation. 

“I am a coward Alexia, you’re right. I wanted you to live your life, to move on, and I made the choice I thought was best for everyone at the time, including you. Don’t stand here and act like I made the choice without consideration for your feelings, because I have,” you fought, because even if you were at fault, you had tried so hard not to be selfish. If the Catalan got a single thing out of this conversation, you wanted it to be that. 

“No you haven’t, you’ve been selfish for the last decade! I lost my father, my community, and then you all in the span of one month. You disappeared, just like that. You were like a ghost, and I was on my own, and right when I needed you, you weren’t there!” She practically yelled, and it looked almost like her entire body vibrated with resentment. 

The footballer took a deep breath as she both tried and failed to remain calm. But every time she had more than a second to think, anger and vitriol seemed to flow out of her. 

“I hate myself for how much I needed you all these years, how much I longed for you. I can’t believe I didn’t see what was going on right in front of me. And now you’re back here…for what? A celebrity status? To be a WAG? I don’t have time for that, and I don’t want you anymore if you see me as such a transactional person. I don’t even recognize you anymore,” Alexia explained with an air of indignance. 

Though you had tried to remain calm, something finally snapped inside of you at that. You simply couldn’t allow for the brunette to say such things about you, and finally you allowed yourself the candor you’d held in all these years. 

“Oh for God's sake Alexia, really? I haven’t come here to be your WAG, or for your fucking money! I’m in investment banking for Christ's sake, I am fine financially! I don’t like football, but I spent my childhood going to games because you loved it and I loved you! You think it didn’t kill me to let you leave like that?” 

“You were my forever. We were young but you were the love of my life, and even now I can’t find myself ever connecting with anyone the way I did with you. I know I am older now, but I still have the same heart as I did when I was eighteen. You loved that person, and I’m not saying you need to love me anymore, but do not stand here and act like I have changed into someone unrecognizable when I have not!” You articulated, unwilling to allow yourself to be trodden over with disrespect. 

You were not the same person as you were at eighteen, but you were also not the person Alexia had made you out to be. 

The fight seemed to drain out of your body in an instance. Any hope that had been clung to was lost entirely as you decided just to be honest. You knew the brunette didn’t want anything to do with you, and in that moment you made peace with that. 

You would give her the truth, and nothing else but the truth. When you looked up at the Catalan, there were tears shining in your eyes. 

“I was sick, Alexia. I found out two days before I broke up with you that I had breast cancer, and I needed to stay in Madrid for treatment. You had just lost your father, you were moving to a whole new area of the country. You didn’t need to be worried about your sick girlfriend, trying to travel back and forth to Madrid, to have even more on your plate,” you revealed slowly as you aggressively wiped away the tears that flowed down your cheeks. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

“So yes, I made a decision for you. In all honesty, it was a decision I would happily make again and again if it came down to it. I wanted to preserve what little peace and happiness you had left before the move. I ached for you afterward, but I knew that this was the right choice. I wanted you to live your dreams, with or without me. And by the time I finished treatment and came to Barcelona, I felt that it was too late. I had broken us, it was my fault entirely that we had broken up, and I didn’t feel like I had the right to come to you and explain.”

“So no, I haven't approached you for the last five years. I come to your games and I see you play with joy and happiness, and I see you with your family, and I want to leave you with that. So don’t look at me and call me a coward or a gold digger or whatever the hell you think I am, because at the end of the day I tried to make the best choices for you and me, and I can’t take them back anymore,” you released, and suddenly you felt much older than your twenty-seven years. You head hung, and you shrugged before you spoke again, your tone bitter and defeated. 

“If you’re so intent to see all of the reasons I fucked up, fine. If you need to tell yourself that I am a selfish whore to sleep at night, fine. But I sincerely hope that when you go to sleep at night you at least remember for a second that the decisions I made were for you, not because of you. Maybe it was the wrong choice to control that for you, but I can’t go back and change it now. So please, just leave me alone if this is all you want from me. I don’t have anything more to give you, not anymore,” You stated with exhaustion, spinning around to walk away. You disappeared into the night before the brunette even had a chance to say anything, left far too shell shocked to even begin to process your words. 

You were gone without a glance backward, and Alexia sunk down onto the bench you had once occupied as remorse purged every other feeling in her body.

(Part 3)

[flemingology]

O is for the only one I see ─ alexia putellas x reader

part 2 of my l-o-v-e miniseries. full masterlist here!

in which: you and Alexia have your first communication mishap after a family meeting gone wrong

warnings: argument, miscommunication, insecure reader

wc: 7.9k

an: i hope you understand the concept lol. i think the name 'miniseries' makes it sound like it's all gonna be 1 continuous story but it's more a one-shot vibe based on a lyric each time, as i describe in the summary. nonetheless, hope you enjoy!

In the past few months, Alexia had seamlessly become a part of your every day in ways you never thought possible. From her quiet insistence on walking you to your car after late dinners to the way she texted you pictures of her travels when she was away for games, it felt... natural. Easy, even. But meeting her family? That was a whole new level, one you weren’t sure you were ready for.

The way Alexia spoke about her family never failed to fill you with warmth. The way she, her mother and her sister bonded together over the course of their lives was something you could only admire. They were pillars in her life, the people she would fall back on when everything else in her life seemed to be going south. And now, you were about to meet them. It wasn’t just nerves bubbling under the surface, it was the nagging doubt if you were going to fit in. If they would approve of you, think of you worthy enough to date their daughter.

Alexia didn’t date. Hadn’t, in a good few years. She held herself to high standards and her family knew that, so they only wanted what was best for her. Whether that’s what you were, they’d have to see. What if they don’t like you?

“You know they’re going to love you,” Alexia said, leaning against the bathroom door frame with her arms crossed over her chest, as you smoothed down your shirt for what felt like the sixth time in as many minutes. You shot her a glare. “You say that now. Wait until Alba starts grilling me like a detective.” She laughed, walking over to you and fixing your collar. She cradled your face, hands on your cheeks and pressed a reassuring, lingering kiss against your lips. “If Alba says anything, I’ll handle her. I just want you to be yourself.” You shot her a grateful smile, turning your gaze back at the mirror, taking your appearance in another time.

“Do you think this is too much? Or… not enough? I can change if you want, I have another couple options laying on the bed.” Alexia wrapped her arms around your waist from behind, and some of your nerves settled at the warmth that radiated from her embrace. She pressed gentle kisses against the side of your neck, you leaning your head back against her shoulder to allow her more space. “You look perfect. My family is not expecting royalty, you know. They’re just excited to meet you.” You turned in her grasp then, tucking a couple strands of hair behind her ear. “Excited to meet me? Or excited to see if I’m good enough for you?”

Your girlfriend–– it still felt surreal to call her that, chuckled at that, leaning her head against your shoulder. “Mi vida, stop. They won’t judge you. Mami will probably try and feed you whatever she’s been cooking since this morning the second you walk through the door, and my sister will ask you a hundred questions about how we met.” You stayed silent at that, taking a moment of appreciation for the kindness and understanding that came from your lover.

“You’re overthinking. They’re going to love you. How could they not?” Alexia tilted your head back up, her eyes meeting yours. “Because I’m not… you. I don’t have the perfect career or the perfect family. What if they think I’m not good enough?”

Alexia bit her lip at that, before taking your hand and leading you back to the bedroom. She sat down on the bed, signaling you to come sit on her lap. You did, your knees on either side as you faced her again. “First of all, I’m not perfect. And second, that’s not how my family works. They don’t care about status or titles. All they care about is kindness, respect, and whether you make me happy.” The Spaniard rested her forehead against yours as she spoke.

“And do I?” “Every single day.”

As you left the bedroom together, Alexia threw another look towards you over her shoulder. “Oh, and for the record, if anyone asks you about football. The answer is always Barca.” You giggled, rolling your eyes at her words. “Noted. You’re going to owe me for this.” “Dinner with the Putellas clan is a small price to pay. Trust me.”

The apartment door clicked shut behind you, and you’re met with the cold afternoon air on a wintery Saturday in Barcelona. You pulled your jacket a little tighter around your figure, already cursing yourself for having dressed too lightly for the occasion. The streetlights cast a soft glow on the quiet neighbourhood, the orange-yellow hues bouncing off the cobblestone pavement beneath your feet. You despised Winter. Despised the cold, despised the dark mornings and dark evenings.

Alexia’s car brought you back to your senses. It’s familiar, and the way Alexia’s perfume lingers and mixes with the faint sense of leather calmed you down. The soft hum of the engine the only sound between the two of you. You couldn’t bear the silence any longer though, as if it was weighing you down with each passing minute.

“Okay, let’s set some expectations. What’s the worst thing your family could say or ask tonight?” Alexia glanced over at you, an amused smile on your face as she expertly manoeuvred the steering wheel one-handed. “Worst thing? Hmm… Mami might ask if you know how to make paella. She likes to test people on their cooking knowledge.” You scoffed nervously at her words. “Great. Let me just Google how not to butcher a classic Spanish dish before we get there.” Alexia cocked an eyebrow at you. “Relax. You could burn your toast and they’d still like you.” You didn’t respond at that, and that led to your girlfriend briefly squeezing your knee, and then resting her hand on your thigh. “I’m serious. You don’t have to impress anyone. Just… be yourself.” You looked out the window, looking at the passing cars. “I wish I had your confidence.” “You don’t need that. You have mine.”

The roads were quiet for the time of day, but there’s a faint hum of life outside. The city felt alive but not overwhelming. Alexia’s playlist waltzed through the background, the songs that remind you of your lover calming your senses once again. You noticed the way she taps her fingers on the steering wheel in time with the music, her relaxed demeanor helping you stay calm. You didn’t want to mess this up. It had been a while since Alexia had seen her family, properly, for more than a couple short moments after a game. Somehow, you hadn’t met them yet. The games you went to, they couldn’t come and vice versa. It was Alexia’s mum that insisted she brought you to the family dinner, something that on its own should’ve calmed your nerves, but the rational part of your brain was completely at the mercy of the overwhelming feeling of self-doubt.

The journey didn’t take as long as expected, traffic not nearly as bad as either of you had foreseen. Alexia’s hand was tracing soft, reassuring patterns on your thigh and your hand was on top of hers, steadling grounding yourself with her touch. Before you knew it, Alexia pulled into the driveway of her childhood home. “Oh God, I didn’t realize we were here already.” Alexia chuckled, but stayed silent for a moment. She let you come to your senses, knowing you were going to be fine, but just needed a moment to ground yourself. Your eyes searched the area, and you were overwhelmed by the sheer amount of cars that were all around the house. “Baby, how many people are here tonight?” Alexia winced at that, having forgotten to mention that it was never only close family when the Putellas’s came together. She tried to remain casual, though. “Eh, maybe like 20 people? Just a small group. It’ll be okay, amor.” You mumbled something incoherently under your breath and Alexia wished it wasn’t you cursing her out, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it as you opened your door and stepped outside.

“So, any final words?” You questioned, your hand resting on the doorbell, not quite ready to ring yet. “Smile. Be yourself. Don’t let mami overwhelm you with food.” You cocked your eyebrows at her. “Mhm, that’s a lot of pressure. What if I fail at one of those things?” Alexia pressed a kiss against your temple, mumbling her next words against your hair. “Then you’d still look cute failing.” You rolled your eyes. “Such a charmer, Alexia. I walked right into that one, didn’t I?” “Completely. But seriously, you’ve got this.” Your girlfriend took your hand in hers for a second and gave a reassuring squeeze, before she eventually rang the doorbell.

Eli’s face lit up inexplicably wide at the sight of her daughter. “Mi niña, look at you, you’re finally here.” She pulled Alexia into a tight hug first, and by Alexia’s body language, you could tell that she needed this. She practically smothered her daughter with affection, but Alexia quickly became second best the moment her eyes landed on you, her expression softening into one of pure warmth. “And you must be the one she hasn’t stopped talking about!” Before you could even fully process her words, she’s wrapping you in a firm, welcoming embrace. The scent of her lavender perfume and something faintly sweet invaded your senses, and it immediately struck you as a homely feeling. Her hug lingered just long enough to feel sincere, and when she pulled back, her hands settled gently on your shoulders.

“Come in, come in! Don’t just stand out here in the cold. I’ve been so excited to meet you." Alexia watched the interaction with a fond smile, her gaze flickering between you and her mum as you stepped into the warmth of the house. It felt almost surreal. The cozy hum of voices from the living room, the inviting smell of food wafting from the kitchen. You’re not sure what you expected, but it wasn’t this; this immediate sense of belonging. You couldn’t help but glance at Alexia, a smile creeping onto your face despite your earlier nerves. She noticed, her own smile widening in response.

But as Eli ushered you both further inside, you caught a fleeting glance exchanged between Alexia and her mum. It’s quick, almost unnoticeable, but something about it tugged at the edge of your thoughts. Maybe it was the slight furrow in Eli’s brow that smoothed out too quickly, or the way Alexia’s smile dimmed just a fraction before she responded. It passed before you could think too much of it, overshadowed by Eli’s bright chatter as she guided you toward the living room. But the seed of doubt was planted, small but persistent.

The living room buzzed with warmth and chatter as Eli guided you inside. The people gathered are lively, her relatives talking over one another, kids darting around in a chaotic blur, and a general air of familiarity you can almost taste. “Come, let me introduce you,” Eli said with a bright smile, tugging you further into the room. Alexia stayed close, her hand lightly resting at your lower back, an anchor as you’re passed from one family member to the next.

First, it’s Alexia’s aunt. A lively woman with curly hair and a booming laugh, pulled you into a tight hug as though she’s known you for years. “Oh, so this is her,” she said knowingly, nudging Alexia with a grin. “You didn’t tell me how gorgeous she is.” “Tía” Alexia mumbled, her ears turning pink, but the playful reprimand only made her aunt laugh harder. “And polite, too, I bet,” the aunt added, turning to you. “Please, call me Tía Marta. Now tell me, is she as much of a neat freak at home as she was when she was a kid? She used to get mad if I folded a towel the ‘wrong way.’” Alexia groaned behind you, but you laughed, feeling a little more at ease.

Up next is Alexia’s grandmother. She was smaller than you expected, her frame delicate but her spirit vibrant. She took your hands in hers, her skin soft and warm, and looked up at you with kind, twinkling eyes. “Eres preciosa, niña,” she said softly, her voice comforting. You managed a thank you in your best Spanish, and she beamed with pride. “Her Spanish is good!” she told Alexia in Catalan, patting your hand. “Abuela,” Alexia interjected gently, translating for you with a smile. “She says you’re beautiful.” “Well, she’s beautiful too,” you responded shyly, feeling your cheeks warm under the older woman’s approving gaze.

Then suddenly, a young cousin, the boy probably no older than six, bolted toward Alexia the second he walked in, arms wide and squealing her name. Alexia catched him mid-run, spinning him around effortlessly. It struck a chord somewhere inside of you, but you weren’t ready to develop the thought yet that was simmering at the back of your mind. “Who’s this?” the little boy asked once he’s settled in Alexia’s arms, pointing at you.

“This is my... friend,” Alexia said carefully, glancing at you with a flicker of hesitation. The little boy looked at you curiously before deciding, “She’s pretty. Do you like Spiderman?” Caught off guard, you stammered, “Uh, yes? I think he’s cool.” “Good,” the cousin declared, nodding seriously. “Because I don’t like boring people.” You shared a laugh with Alexia, who shook her head fondly.

At one point a couple minutes later, an uncle, already stationed near the appetizers, offered you a small plate. “Try this,” he said, holding up a slice of jamón ibérico. “This is the best you’ll ever taste.” You accepted it, and the flavor immediately melted on your tongue. “Wow,” you exhale, impressed. He grinned, nodding approvingly. “I told you. Good taste,” he said, pointing at you before winking at Alexia. “This one’s a keeper, eh?” Alexia chuckled, shaking her head. “She hasn’t even had the croquetas yet.” “Croquetas?” you asked, curious. “Just wait,” Alexia replied, her smirk confident.

Eli stole you away then, leading you with her to the sofa. “She talks about you, you know,” she said quietly, handing you a glass of wine. You blinked in surprise. “She does?” “Every time we talk,” she said with a smile, her eyes soft as they glanced toward Alexia. “You make her happy.” Your heart swelled, and you glanced at your girlfriend across the room, who was talking to her cousin again. She must’ve felt your eyes on her because she looked back, offering a small smile that’s just for you.

But then, there was a change in the air. It was not outright hostility, not even close. But as the introductions continued– they seemed endless, there was a distinct feeling in the back of your mind that you couldn’t ignore. A couple of the older relatives asked pointed questions about your work. Questions that felt almost like challenges, though they were wrapped in polite tones. “So, what do you do exactly? Must be quite demanding, no?” You answered as best as you can, without wanting to seem too affected by the unpleasant tone you’re being spoken to. 

As you were chatting with another of Alexia’s cousins, one of her aunts– not the one that welcomed you so warmly earlier, interrupted the conversation with a comment that caught you off guard. “Well, I hope you’re not one of those people who thinks dating a footballer is all glamour and fame. It’s hard work, you know.” The words are said with a faint smile, her tone almost teasing. Almost. But there’s something about the way her eyes lingered on you, as though she’s waiting to see how you’ll react. “Oh no, I wouldn’t think that at all.” You stammered, trying to laugh it off. Before you could say more, Alexia stepped in smoothly. It’s like she felt the discomfort oozing off you through the room, and she was by your side in a mere couple seconds to defuse the situation. “She’s not one of those people. Trust me.” Her aunt gave a small nod, her smile tight as she moved on to another conversation.

The exchange left you rattled, though you’re not entirely sure why. It wasn’t outright rude, but it felt like a test, one you’re not certain you passed. As the evening went on, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were under a microscope. Most of the family was kind and welcoming, but a few interactions left a sour taste, small enough to make you doubt whether you’re overthinking it or not.

Your mind drifted back to the glance Alexia exchanged with her mom earlier. Was it about you? Were they worried about bringing you into this tightly-knit family dynamic? You glanced at Alexia, who was across the room now, laughing with her sister. She looked completely at ease, as though she belonged in this moment in a way you could never hope to. The doubt crept in again, insidious and unwelcome. Did you really fit into her world?

The room was alive with conversation and laughter, but your thoughts felt far too loud. You were perched at the edge of the couch, smiling politely as Eli chatted animatedly with a group of relatives nearby. Alexia caught your eye from across the room, her easy smile fading when she saw the tension in your shoulders. Excusing herself from the conversation she’s in, she made her way over to you, her movements casual so as not to draw attention. She sat next to you, her hand comfortingly placed on the small of your back. “Hey, you okay?” You take a moment, hesitating on what to tell her, because the last thing you’d want is to be a burden. “Yeah, just a bit… overwhelmed”, you eventually settled on. Her hand softly brushed against your knee and it brought you a sense of comfort. “They already love you, you know.” Her words settled over you like a warm blanket, and for a moment, you let yourself believe them. You nod, offering her a small smile. Thanks. I think I just need a minute to adjust.” Your girlfriend squeezed your knee and then stood up, moving back across the room to where she was before she came over to you. 

You started to relax again, letting the hum of conversations wash over you, but then you heard it; a hushed voice from somewhere nearby, just loud enough to catch your ear. “She seems nice, but do you think she’s really with Alexia for the right reasons? I mean, it must be intimidating, dating someone like her. Maybe she just likes the idea of it.” The words hit like a gut punch. You glanced around, trying to place the speaker, and your stomach sank when you saw it’s the same cousin who’d been teasing earlier. She was speaking to another relative, who nodded slightly but didn’t add anything to the comment.

“Well, she does seem a bit… out of her depth. But Alexia must see something in her.” “Yeah, but for how long? I mean, Alexia needs someone who can handle all of this. The attention, the traveling, the pressure. Do you think she’s that kind of person?”

Your pulse quickened and your fingers tightened around your glass. It felt like the air had been knocked out of you. Why were they even talking about this? Your stomach sank further with each word. You fought the urge to stand up and defend yourself, although you weren’t quite sure you’d know what to say if you did. Were you really out of your depth?

You glanced back toward Alexia, wishing she’d somehow heard the exchange, wishing you could share the burden of what had just been said. But even if she had been closer, would you have had the courage to repeat the words? The thought of telling her felt unbearable. What if she agreed, even a little? What if, instead of reassuring you, she hesitated? You tell yourself off, firmly. It was Alexia that brought you here, Alexia that wanted you here. She wouldn’t hesitate. But before you can dwell on what you heard too much, dinner is being served and you’re all called to the living room.

The dining room was warm and inviting, with a large wooden table set for everyone. The atmosphere was lively, filled with laughter and overlapping conversations. Alexia was seated beside you, and her presence helped calm your nerves, even though the earlier comments still lingered in your mind. You tried to focus on the moment, enjoy the evening with Alexia’s family and forget about what you overheard earlier

.“So, tell us more about yourself. Alexia mentioned you work on some pretty impressive projects.” It was Eli’s voice that pulled you out of your thoughts. You were glad that everyone seemed to be in their own conversations, only a couple relatives really listening in to what you were going to answer.

“Oh, it’s nothing too special. I mostly enjoy being behind the scenes, making sure everything runs smoothly.” You worry, overthinking every word as if the people around you would be nitpicking every single thing that you said.

“Well, Alexia couldn’t stop talking about how talented you are. She doesn’t say that about just anyone, you know.” Her words made you feel a little more at ease, but the shadow of doubt from earlier lingered.

Dinner went smoothly for the rest. Conversation flowed easily between a couple of you, the steadying presence of your girlfriend aside you doing just enough to ground you. During a lighter moment, someone shared a funny story about Alexia’s childhood.

“Did you know Alexia used to practice free kicks in the yard until she knocked over the flower pots? I think my parents banned football from the garden for a year!” The family laughs, and Alexia playfully rolls her eyes, leaning in closer to you. “Don’t believe everything they tell you.”

At some point, a little further down the evening, Alexia leans in quietly, her hand brushing against yours under the table. “You okay? You’ve been a bit quiet.” she asks softly. You force a smile, one you know she won’t believe, but it’s the best you could muster up. “I’m fine. Just taking everything in.” She didn’t push, but her eyes lingered, and you knew she was onto you. But you appreciated her for not pushing.

As the meal ends and people begin to move around, Alexia finds a quiet moment with you, sensing your unease. “You’ve been amazing tonight, you know? I can see how much they like you.” You found yourself in a quiet corner in the kitchen, and you allowed yourself to circle your arms around her neck, Alexia’s resting around your waist. “You think so? It’s just… a lot to take in.” Alexia nodded, briefly brushing her lips against your forehead. “I know it’s overwhelming, but you’re doing great. I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t know you could handle it.”

-

The silence in the car was heavy, but Alexia didn't push. She glanced at you every now and then, her brows knitting together in quiet concern at the expression on your face. She decided she could do no wrong by testing the waters. “You were amazing tonight,” she said softly. You nodded with a small smile, but it was forced. You continued staring out the window, replaying the events from the night over and over again, especially the words from one of Alexia’s aunts kept on ringing in the back of your mind.

The car ride felt uneasy. It wasn’t usual for you both to be so quiet, and it almost felt awkward. You knew you weren’t doing the right thing by not telling your girlfriend what was wrong, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. You felt as if, if you would recite the words that were spoken by one of her relatives, that she’d agree. That she’d realize that they were right, that you’re out of your depth and not made for someone with a schedule like hers. So you stayed silent. As much as it hurt you to ignore Alexia’s silent advances throughout the drive, whether that be a hand on your knee or a soft touch on your thigh, you didn’t dare speak up. Not if that meant you would put your relationship at risk.

When Alexia pulled into the driveway of your apartment block, you could feel the hesitation in her movements. You unbuckled your seatbelt and she did the same, but before you could reach the door handle, you felt her hand on your wrist. “Amor, wait…,” she spoke softly. You closed your eyes for a second, taking a deep breath before leaning back against the car seat. “You did great tonight. I promise. It was everything I hoped for. I’m so glad you finally met my family and they love you. Te lo prometo.” You gave her a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, but you couldn’t help but melt in the kiss that followed. You really shouldn’t have, should’ve held your walls up, because you knew you were in for a rough night as soon as your girlfriend left. But when she kissed you with that much fervour, pouring so many unspoken words in it, you couldn’t help but be at her mercy. “Call me tomorrow?” You nodded, but you weren’t sure you would. Stepping out of her car felt like floodgates opening. The emotions hit you like a brick: insecurity, shame, and the growing belief that this relationship was a mistake.

-

You ignored Alexia’s calls the following day. You knew it wasn’t the right thing to do. After all, she didn’t do anything wrong. But you couldn’t bring yourself to, not when you felt like every new word you spoke to her would bring her closer to realizing that you weren’t enough for her. Her texts start off light, reassuring. But when she realizes that you’re not going to reply, they come with an urge.

From: Ale I hope you’re feeling better today, amor. Let me know when you’re free?

From: Ale Hey, I’m getting worried. Are you okay?

From: Ale Please talk to me. Did something happen?

You read them but couldn’t bring yourself to respond. Each message felt like a dagger, reminding you of what you’re running from.

As the day dragged on, the insecurities became louder. What if you’re just another thing for her to take care of? You’re nothing compared to the people she’s surrounded with on a day-to-day basis. Her teammates, her family, they’re all… extraordinary. Alexia deserves someone who fits into her world effortlessly.  Not someone who feels like they’re constantly falling short.

You started analyzing every moment with Alexia, wondering if you’ve been blind to signs that this was doomed from the start. You were not made for this world. Not made for her. So you did the thing that you thought was best for you, best for her, you decided not to reply to anything she sent you. She’d get over it, she had so many other things on her mind that she probably wouldn’t even think twice. You’d get over it too, eventually. At some point. Probably. Maybe.

But God, were you wrong. On the other side of Barcelona, your girlfriend was miserable. She had sensed something was off since the evening before, but she didn’t want to pry, knowing that usually didn’t help her case in trying to get anything out of you. But now, as the afternoon bled into evening and she still hadn’t heard from you, prying was the only thing she wished she did. As far as she knew, things had gone quite well with her family. There wasn’t anything that she could remember that would warrant such a response from you, so she felt like her hands were tied in what to do.

She wanted nothing more than things to work out with you. She hadn’t felt like she felt about you in ages. You got her, you understood her, and she was so incredibly grateful for you. You were like a breath of fresh air in her clouded, busy life. So when she didn’t hear from you for a day, Alexia curled up into herself. She was worried, insecure, in her head and making up all kinds of scenarios that were way too obscure, but she couldn’t help thinking them anyway. What if you didn’t want her anymore after meeting her family? Was it not what you expected? Did someone tell you something about her that struck a wrong chord?

Despite the overwhelming thoughts that clouded her mind, Alexia manages to get out of her sofa that evening and try a different approach to get you back.

-

It’s well past 9pm when you receive a voicemail from Alexia, and you can’t help but listen to it. The prospect of hearing her voice was too good to turn down.

“Hola, mi vida. I don’t know what’s bothering you, but please talk to me. We’re a team, you know? You and I. Just the two of us. Let me in and we’ll work out what’s on your mind. And, check your front door for me. Te amo. So much.”

You hadn’t realized tears had welled up in your eyes at the sound of her voice, until one was rolling over your cheek. You quickly wiped it away, not ready to be vulnerable about this yet. Not when she was being so sweet. You mustered up the courage to get out of bed, walking the way up to the front door of your apartment. You checked the peephole, but nobody was there. You opened the door and spotted a bright bouquet of red and white roses on the ground, accompanied with a little envelope. Your first thought was about how Alexia had gotten into your building, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care about that right now. You picked up the flowers and smelled them, a faint hint of her perfume mixing with the fresh scent of the roses. It hit you hard then, another few tears escaping your eyes.

The letter that came with, was even sweeter. It wasn’t much, not a love letter by any means, but just a small couple reminders of how much she loved you. That she was proud of you. That she couldn’t wait to see you again and hear your voice. It only felt more guilt rise up in you. How could you treat this woman, who clearly loved you to the moon and back, so poorly? But the guilt wasn’t enough to overshadow the insecurities. At least, not yet. 

-

The office was dimly lit, the desk cluttered with blueprints, pencils, and a cold coffee cup that you’re not sure you even took a sip from. When things got rough, work is where you turned to in life. Work didn’t make you insecure. Work didn’t make you doubt yourself. It was always there. Steady. A pillar of strength that would never disappoint you. You weren’t the only one who knew that, though. As long as it took you to open up about your professional life to a certain blonde, she now knew everything about the ins and outs of your life as an interior architect. She too, knew that this was where you retreated when things weren’t going your way. To experience some sort of stability. To make you feel like even though everything else around you was crumbling, you still had this. The hum of the building and the outside traffic was the only sound until the door swung open abruptly, startling you.

Alexia walked in, her expression a mix of worry and frustration. She looked out of place here, her casual sweater and jeans standing stark against the sterile, professional backdrop. She didn’t speak right away, just stood there, her gaze fixed on you. The silence felt suffocating. You haven’t turned around yet, but the mere presence of the person gave away who it was.

“I knew you’d be here,” she started with. “You shouldn’t have come.” You had turned around on your seat now, but were still avoiding her gaze. As much as you wanted to look at her, take her in, because you missed her, missed her more than you could put into words, you didn’t. Because then it would take approximately 3 seconds for you to give up the facade that you’d been putting on, and you weren’t ready for that. Not when you weren’t good enough for her. She stepped closer. “What else was I supposed to do, huh? You’ve been ignoring me for almost 2 days. I’ve been losing my mind wondering what I did wrong.”

There was a sense of hostility in her voice, and you didn’t like it. But, you guess you deserved it. You finally met her gaze then, and if it weren’t for the bags underneath her eyes and the concerned look on her face, you really would’ve thought she was angry at you. You stood up from your desk, taking a couple tentative steps toward her and crossing your arms over your chest. “You didn’t do anything, Alexia. This is on me.” You knew it was weak, and not good enough. But you couldn’t give her much more than that. “That’s not good enough. I deserve more than silence, don’t you think?”

Your throat is tightening, but you try your best not to let it sound in your voice. “I needed time to think.” “Time to think about what, y/n? If you even want to be with me?” You frowned then, looking up at her. You didn’t know it had cut so deep with her. It’d only been a day and a half, and you hadn't given her any clues on what this could be about, so for her to have made this assumption took you aback. It’s not what you wanted, or… maybe it was? It was best for the both of you, either way.

You decided at that moment it was best for you to open up, to relieve some of the tension for the woman standing in front of you. “I’m not good for you, Alexia. Can’t you see that? Your cousin, your family, they see it. And they’re right.” The Spaniard’s face hardens at that, her brows knitting together. ““I don’t belong in your world. I don’t know how to fit into it, and honestly, I don’t think I ever will. You deserve someone who can stand next to you without feeling like they’re constantly falling short.”

Alexia closes the distance between you, and you can feel her breath against your face as she speaks. “That’s bullshit, and you know it! You think I care what anyone else thinks? My family? My cousin? Do you think I’d be here right now, chasing after you, if I thought you weren’t good enough for me?” You interrupt her, but it’s a futile attempt. “No, you don’t understand-” “You don’t understand! I chose you! I want you! Why is that so hard for you to believe?”

It’s like someone opened up a can of bottled feelings within Alexia. You’d voiced it many times to her that you thought you weren’t good enough for her, and each time she’d patiently coaxed you back to her, melting your insecurities away with whispered promises and lingering kisses. What you didn’t know is that it had also taken an effect on her. She just wanted you to believe her, to be happy with her, to stop thinking that you weren’t what she wanted or deserved.

“Because I’m scared, Alexia! I’m scared that one day you’ll wake up and realize they were right. That I’m just this… nobody who got lucky. That I’ll never be enough for you.” Alexia’s expression softens slightly, but her frustration remains. She runs a hand through her hair and takes a deep breath, her voice quieter but still firm. ““You’re enough for me. You’re more than enough. But I can’t keep fighting to convince you of that if you’re not willing to believe it yourself.”

The words hit you like a dagger. Of all the ways the conversation could go, you hadn’t expected that. And it only further confirmed your thoughts. Alexia was realizing that this wasn’t what she wanted. “Maybe I’m doing this for you, Alexia. Maybe you’ll thank me someday.” Alexia’s voice was sharp as she replied. “Don’t you dare make this decision for me.” You flinch, but remain silent.

She steps back then, running her hands across her face. “I don’t know what else to say to you right now.” Her eyes linger on your figure a little longer, but then she’s gone. The sound of the door falling shut feels deafening, and you finally let the tears flow that you’d been holding in throughout the conversation. Argument? You didn’t know and you weren’t sure if you wanted to.

As she storms out of the studio, the cool night air hits her like a wall. Her chest feels tight, and her hands tremble slightly as she fumbles to unlock her car. She hesitates for a moment, gripping the door handle, debating whether to turn back. But the ache in her heart makes it hard to think clearly, and she sinks into the driver’s seat, resting her forehead against the steering wheel.

She didn’t know how it could’ve escalated this quick. For her, the meeting with her family went well. Of course, there was the odd comment, but she didn’t think it was major enough to cause an upset like this. It seemed like, in one day, you’d built a wall so high that she couldn’t reach you anymore.

She bites her lip, trying to keep the tears from falling, but a few slip out anyway. She feels a mix of anger, heartbreak and guilt, but above all that she doesn’t know what she’s supposed to be feeling. She drives around aimlessly, not ready to drive home. Before long, Alexia realizes that she didn’t handle the argument in the right way. Instead of calming you down, she yelled, too lost in trying to make you see what she sees. By the time she finally gets home, she’s emotionally drained. She sits at her kitchen table, the undeniable sting from the unanswered calls and texts still there. Alexia had never felt this way about anyone, ever before in her life. And she wasn’t going to let you walk away because of some stupid comment or your own doubts. You were hers, and she was going to remind you of that even if it took everything she had.

Alexia starts her plan to get you back the next day. She comes to terms that barging into the studio again wouldn’t make it better, so she starts with something simple. She drives to your place and slides a little handwritten note under the door, a small one that says, “I love you. No matter what they say, no matter what you think. You are everything to me. Please, let me prove it. A.” She also sends flowers to your workplace, a bouquet of your favourite flowers with a little note attached to it, “You’re the only one I see.” She’s patient, very patient, but when she hasn’t heard anything from you by the evening, she starts pacing around her apartment.

She had done quite well at keeping busy throughout the day. After quickly dropping off the note, she went to training and was able to keep her mind off the situation for a couple hours. But when she came home, deep in the afternoon, and she couldn’t even get her post-training nap in because she was thinking about you, she knew she wasn’t gonna get anywhere.

Her fingers hover over your contact, but the prospect of rejection makes her hesitate. She lingers, but eventually decides it’s best not to. She was gonna let you come to her. And you did. The next morning, somehow you’d remembered that today was a day off for Alexia. She was sat at the kitchen table, sipping on her daily cup of coffee while scrolling through her phone. The doorbell startled her, not really expecting anyone at this time of day, especially not when she was still wearing her pajamas. But when she looks through the peephole, noticing your figure on the other side of the door, her heart skips a beat. She scrambles to unlock the door and open it for you, but when her eyes land on you it feels like all is right in the world. She has to refrain herself from throwing her into your arms, knowing that wouldn’t be the right thing to do right now. She gives you a small smile, one you return, and the warmth that spreads through her chest at the little gesture is unimaginable. She steps aside then, letting you inside of her apartment.

It doesn’t take long for Alexia to crack. She makes you a coffee and joins you on the sofa, and you had planned to start the conversation, but she didn’t let you. “I’m sorry,” she says, her voice cracking slightly. “For yelling, for walking out, for everything. I shouldn’t have done that.” You look down, nodding, fiddling with your hands. “I… I wasn’t trying to push you away, Alexia. I just-” “You’re scared,” she interrupts, and a relief washes over you at the realization that she understands your feelings. “And I get that. But, please, I need you to talk to me, not shut me out.”

There’s a couple moments of silence, and you readjust your position on the couch, your knees now flush to your chest with your arms wrapped around them. It was the only way to stop yourself from curling into her. You wouldn’t get to say what you wanted if you did. “It’s not just fear,” you admit. “It’s everything. What your cousin said, it wasn’t just about me. It was about us. Like I don’t belong in your world. Like- Like I’m just… some fling that you’ll outgrow.”

Alexia’s face hardens, jaw tightening and she reaches a hand out, but quickly retreats. “Don’t let them get to you, por favor. She doesn’t know anything about us, about you.” “But what if she’s right?” You whisper, your voice trembling. “What if I’m not enough? For you, for your family, for-” Alexia does follow through with her hand then, placing it on your knee, giving it a slight squeeze. “Stop.” Her voice is firm but not harsh, cutting through your spiraling thoughts. “You are enough. You are everything.” Your eyes meet hers, and you’re looking for anything that gives away she’s not speaking the truth. That she doesn’t mean this, that she’s just saying this out of pity. But you can’t find it. The only thing you find is a couple unshed tears, showing just how much emotion she’s pouring into this moment. “Do you know how much I love you? How much I admire you? Your kindness, strength, the way you light up any room without even trying. You’re the only one I want.” You go to speak up, but she lifts her hand in protest.

“What someone else thinks, whether it’s my family, my friends or anyone, doesn’t matter to me. You matter. You make me happy, and that’s all I care about. And if my cousin, or anyone else has a problem with that, they’ll have to say that to my face. And not behind your or my back.” Alexia straightens slightly, retreating her hand from your knee and placing them in her lap. “But I know I didn’t handle this right, and I’m sorry for that too,” she says earnestly. “I shouldn’t have lashed out. I was frustrated because I hate seeing you doubt yourself, especially when you’re so good to me, so good for me. I want to be better for you, better for us. But you need to let me in.”

You swallow hard, her words from the last couple minutes sinking in. You couldn’t believe how you deserved the woman sitting in front of you right now. So good, so honest, and all she wanted was you. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want to hurt you, or… seem weak, I guess.” Alexia shakes her head, her gaze soft. “You’re not weak. And you’re never going to hurt me by telling me how you feel. We’re a team, remember? On the same side, mi amor.” The pet name sends a wave of warmth through you that you only now realize you missed terribly. “Besides,” she adds, her tone lighter now, “if our relationship has had to endure all the teasing from my teammates and the comments from fans, I’m sure we can handle a little communication hiccup.”

You laugh softly, and Alexia grins, relief washing over her. “There it is,” she says, her thumb brushing a tear off your cheek that you didn’t even know was there. “There’s my girl.” You let out a shaky breath, the weight on your chest lifting ever so slightly. “I’m sorry, too. For shutting you out. I’ll try to do better.” Alexia leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “We’ll figure it out together.”

As the tension melts away, Alexia pulls you up, wrapping her arms tightly around you. The warmth of her embrace makes the world outside. She tilts her head to rest against yours, her voice soft as she speaks. “You’re never allowed to disappear like that again,” Alexia murmurs, her lips brushing against your temple. “Do you know how much I missed you? Two days felt like two years.” You nestle further into her, your arms circling her waist. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just needed space to think. But it wasn’t worth it. Being without you felt awful. I just kept convincing myself that you were better off without me and vice versa, but I know that’s not true.”

Alexia pulls back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. Her thumb brushes gently over your cheek as she smiles, her expression soft. “You don’t have to run away to think, cariño. Just come to me, and we’ll figure it out together. Always.”

The weight of the past days begins to fade away as Alexia leans down and brushes her lips lightly against your forehead. Then your nose. Then your cheek. Each kiss feels like a promise, her way to say that everything’s going to be okay. “Stop,” you say, giggling softly, though you don’t actually want her to stop. “You’re making it impossible to stay mad at myself.” “Good,” Alexia says with a smirk, her fingers tracing idle patterns on your back. “Because I’m not done making it up to you yet.”

She shifts, sitting back down on the couch and pulling you into her lap. You hesitate for a moment, but her arms tighten around your waist, grounding you. “This okay?” she asks softly, her lips brushing your ear. You nod, melting into her touch. “More than okay.” Her hands trail up and down your back in soothing strokes as you rest your head on her shoulder. The two of you sit like that for a while, in silence, before you take a nap together on the couch. As you lay in her arms, you know that that’s where you’re supposed to be. And you’re gonna battle every single one of your insecurities that tells you differently.

[wosofutbolfan]

If You Need Me, Call Me

Alexia Putellas x Explorer!R Pt.2 in the 'I Would Climb Every Mountain With You' Universe.

Hi Guys, Thank you for all the love on the first part in this series. This is part 2 that I didn't expect to write. I have an inability to not write angst. TW: Claustrophobia. Injury. Events are not based on any real life events. Part two of I Would Climb Every Mountain With You. I would recommend you read that first, for some context. But you can do what you want really ;-)

You and Alexia had been together, happily, for a year. And it was happily. Though. ‘Together’ is probably being quite liberal with the word. And. You suppose. ‘Happily’ is also being quite liberal with the word. You loved Alexia. 

And Alexia loved you. 

That was clear to both of you. You admitted it early, before she’d even left UK soil after she’d come back with you from your first meeting. She’d rolled her eyes at you and the nerves on your face as you lay in bed together in your pokey Cumbrian flat, and kissed the words from your lips; ‘well duh, of course you do. And I love you.’ which made you laugh and fall into her lips again. But it wasn’t even 12 hours later that you’d had to separate with her season starting again and her need to be in Spain. Her teammates had teased her relentlessly on her return. How she’d U-Hauled with the Jefa de montaña and ran away to the rainey island she so famously disliked just to spend another day together. She'd rolled her eyes and slapped the back of a few heads but it was true. That is what she had done. She’d been overjoyed when she spotted you in the crowd on the first home game of the season. You’d made the surprise trip to Barcelona at the last minute, employing Ingrid to get a ticket in the friends and family section for you. The smile on the Captain's face as she spotted you could be seen from space. You had winked at her and proudly gestured to your brand new Barcelona jersey, Alexias number proudly splayed across your back. As the game ended, with a convincing win for the home team, she’d made a beeline for you in the stands. Jumping over the barrier and embracing you like you hadn’t seen each other for months (oh how used to that feeling you would become), rather than a couple of weeks. “I thought that you preferred rugby?” she had teased you. “Ah, I do, but no one told me how hot the captain in blue and red was” you’d replied, with a wink. Enjoying the blush you’d created on her face, before it was your turn to blush as Alexias eyes darted to your right and greeted, “Mami! Hola!” and embraced a small women in a shirt matching yours who was definitely standing within hearing distance. Just over her shoulder a carbon-copy of Alexia was lurking, a childlike grin on her face and twinkle in her eyes. “Ah, and this is mi hermana Alba!” she had introduced you. ‘Well, nothing like diving in headfirst’ you thought to yourself, as you were introduced to your apparently-new girlfriend's family, as that's what you had just been introduced as, with a squeeze of your hand and a kiss to the side of your head. The Putellas family embraced you with all the enthusiasm in the world. Alba kept you entertained and asked you a million and one questions as you waited for Alexia to be finished with her media and captain duties. Before you knew it you were at an impromptu meet-the-new-english-girlfriend party at the Putellas residence, sharing food with seemingly everyone who had ever been related to Alexia as well as their next door neighbours. Sharing wine, food, and lots of baby Alexia pictures. So yes. You had both moved fast. Maybe it was the speed which you were going that would soon become your downfall. You were moving a million miles an hour and the warning signs were a blur that you couldn’t quite make out. Of those first 6 months, you were on an exhibition for 4. You had travelled to Patagonia to climb some of the last unclaimed peaks on the planet with the National Geographic Society. They were unreachable by road or even yak. You had to sail to the bottom of South America and then move your way up on foot.  It was arduous, it was treacherous, but you found satisfaction and joy in the difficulty.

You become the first person and only woman to ever summit Orjos del Salado and, as you snapped a picture at the top, all you thought was how excited you were to share your achievement with Alexia. As you’d called her a week later from a dive-bar in a shanty town in central Argentina you could hear the pride and relief in her voice, even through the terrible connection. It was the first time you had been able to contact her in a month.

But you’d gone straight from there to leading some American businessmen through the Amazon on a 3 week river and hiking exploration. It paid handsomely, you’d explained to the disappointed blonde, you couldn’t turn it down.

You returned to Barcelona in time to spend a week together before Alexia left for a two week international camp.  Which was then followed by a week long trip for her to Norway, as part of their group stage champions league campaign.

You’d joined her there, soaking as much time together as possible between her matches and training sessions. Maybe it was then that the cracks had begun to show. As you had woken early to pick her up from her hotel to go for an early morning walk and grab some coffee before her media duties. You had been walking hand in hand in the early morning sunshine. You had been half-way through a story from the day before, where you and Ingrid's mum had gone together to a lake outside of Oslo, when you felt her drop your hand suddenly and took a half step away from you. “Huh?” you looked at her and a look you hadn’t seen before took over her features, “What’s going on Ale?”. “Trust me” was all she’d replied, and then it had become apparent her problem as a swarm of fans suddenly engulfed her, asking for selfies and autographs, which she gave out, graciously. She skillfully extracted herself from the situation before you both continued on your way, but now, you noticed, you were at least a foot further apart and a weird atmosphere had taken over you both. It had been when you were both safely in the cafe that you’d addressed it, “are you ashamed of me?” you asked, unable to mask the hurt in your voice. Hands safely wrapped around your Tea. “No!” she’d replied, aghast, as she pulled your hands from your mug into her own. “mírame cariño” you did, and saw the heartbreaking look in her eyes. “I would never be ashamed of you. Do not think that for one moment.” she said it with such conviction that you couldn’t help but nod. “I am sorry, but it is easier. For you. The media. They will pry into your life. It’s happened before with… partners and… I don’t want that for you. For your family. I love you.” “I won’t hide Ale.” you replied. Firmly. You were a free spirit. It was not in your nature to hide yourself, any part of yourself, for anything or anyone. The thought of it made you claustrophobic. “I know you won’t.” she huffed out a laugh, “I do not want us to hide. I promise. But, maybe, if we do not make their job easy for them? Can we do that?”. The look of desperation on her face broke your heart. “Bueno Ale. Para ti. Yo también te amo.” You’d gone your separate ways from there, you had explorations to complete, she was busy with the team. She’d managed to visit England for a few days when her UCWL matches lined up, and you started to return to Barcelona, rather than Cumbria, as a home base between trips. And that's how it had gone for some time. Your birthday had passed, you’d spent it together in Barcelona, Ale having stolen your trusty-old boots and had them professionally repaired and re-waxed. As she presented them to you, on her balcony with a cute bow on top, your heart expanded in joy. She got you. She knew you didn’t want new-top of the range boots that she definitely could afford. This actually was harder, she’d had to research the dying-art of cobblers in the area. She had to sneak them out of your duffell bag, she must have distracted you every time you went for them as your go-to walking shoes in the week. With all her money and fame. She understood that wasn’t you. You loved what you had. And she got that. As you had turned the boots in your hands, taking in all of the familiarity in all their glory and feeling the waxy leather beneath your fingers she couldn’t read your face. “I hope you don’t mind” she’d taken them gently from your hands and she pulled back the tongue, which showed a piece of jersey sewn into the backing-fabric. Blue and red, with a white AP11 embroidered into it. “It's from my first champions league shirt. I cut a swatch off, and had them sew it in…” she whispered. The moment had been heavy. “I know we don’t get to spend time together like most couples, but this way, I’ll always be with you.” Your throat had burned with the effort to keep your tears at bay, you were unsuccessful when you felt her warm hand cup your face and wipe a tear away,

“I’m sorry, It’s probably way too intrusive and I shouldn’t have taken your stuff, I can ta…” You’d silenced her with a kiss. Intense and hungry. “This is the most thoughtful gift I have ever had. I love you Ale. I love you so much.”  “Good.”... you both take a moment to look into each other's eyes, then you feel a movement as she reaches into her pocket and presents proudly what she’s pulled out, eyes shining with mirth “Then maybe you will consider these laces too, no?” and you burst out laughing whilst you take in the Blaugrana coloured hiking laces. You’ve not got it in you to not agree. But love sometimes isn’t enough. Time passed. You continued your work and she continued hers. Valentines days spent on opposite sides of the globe. You weren’t there when she won the Champions League, instead spending it watching it in a bar in Jordan. She wasn’t there as you returned from reaching an undiscovered island as part of a research crew in the South Pacific, instead being in Munich to film a new Nike ad. When you were together you couldn’t walk the streets of Barcelona hand in hand. You’d kept your promise and she kept hers. You weren’t hidden, but you weren’t showcasing your relationship. When she came to England you had more freedom, the people of Cumbia didn’t know who the Spanish superstar was, they just knew her as your girlfriend. Your fit girlfriend according to the teenage boy who lived next door to your mum. You made it work though, between you. You would send her snaps every time you saw children playing football. Pictures from south pacific islands to the mountain villages of the Himalayas, and every time you would receive the same response; “See, el deporte del mundo, I told you <3” It was a perfect storm. What happened. You’d spent a month in Barcelona, more time that you had been able to spend together in the year you’d been a couple. You’d fallen into a domesticity that you hadn’t experienced before. 

Alexia would train, you would have dinner ready for her. She would wake you up with a cup of Tea from her new kettle she's bought especially for you. You would plan routes and give advice to your online contacts about expeditions they had planned. You would sleep wrapped in each other's arms, Alexia would even let you be the big spoon, very occasionally. 

It felt perfect.  Until one, simple comment.

“Ay, look at you, wifey!” Mapi had exclaimed from her place at the table as you brought in the dinner you had prepared for the group,  you had invited her and Ingrid for a couples night, “who would have thought, “La jefa de la montaña. Tamed!” “Shut up Maria.” Ingrid nudged her girlfriend, with a kind smile she turned to you, “This looks delicious! Thank you” As the group tucked in though, you were distracted. Suddenly, the weight of Alexia's hand on your thigh felt heavy. The walls, too constricting. For you, the heat of Barcelona started to become oppressive. Too predictable. You missed England, you missed not knowing what the weather would be hour by hour. The contact blue skies felt like a false--happiness was being forced on you. The ground at your feet, sun dried, felt harsh compared to the muddy grass you had grown up stomping on. Soft, flexible. The routine started to bore you. You missed the weight of your backpack and the freedom of slinging up your hammock. Alexia hadn’t missed the way you had clammed up, the tenseness in your posture, the way your laugh did not reach your eyes for the rest of that evening. For the weeks following she felt like keeping you was like trying to catch smoke. Like trying to hold sand in her bare hands. She could feel you escape through her fingers for the next few weeks.

Which is why she wasn’t surprised when she returned from an away trip to Mallorca to see you on the couch. Hands nervously twisting and unable to meet her eye.

“You’re going again, aren't you?” she asked, as she dropped her bag at the door and settled next to you, taking your hands in hers. You nodded.

“I’m sorry Ale. It's just. It's not me.” you’d explained then, how you had been feeling. And she listened. Even though she knew. Of course she already knew.

“It’s okay, carino.” you’d assured you. You’d look up then, “it is?”

“Si, Mi Vida. I would never ask you to change. And only you would be bored of the life of a professional footballer, and you must be the only English person to ever complain about the weather in Barcelona” she’d lightened the mood with her joke, and rolled her eyes good naturedly.

“Where are you going this time?” she’d continued, and she should have known from your pause that this wasn’t the usual goodbye.

“Everest.”

“Everest.”  She’d reperated. Joy in her voice, she knew it was your life’s ambition to climb the world's highest summit. “...and Denali, and Elbrus...” you had continued to name the 7 highest summits on each continent that you would spend the next 18 months climbing, without oxygen, as part of an international exploration. Silence filled the apartment. “I….” “No.” “No?” you asked, shock in your voice. “No, what?” “No, you can’t do that. It's too dangerous.” “But Ale…” “No. No ‘but Ale’. I get it. I have been your partner now for long enough. I understand. But this is too much. No oxygen, so many climbs… there is too much danger. No.” her tone firm. Final. Her Captain's voice. And that had made the walls feel like they were closing in for you. And you responded like a wild animal, backed into a corner, defensive. “I wasn’t asking.” She let out a frustrated groan, hands covering her face. “Carino, please no. Listen to me. Being with you…” a huff again… “it is hard.” “Oh well, I am sorry Alexia, if being with me is such a chore…” you started. “No, stop, you are not letting me speak…” but you had started at that point. “You are not the one who is hidden away, you aren’t one who has had to move countries, to miss her family, your life hasn’t changed! You’ve given up nothing for this relationship.” you hiss out at her, hardly recognising your own voice. You're speaking just to hurt her. To make this easier for both of you. And that final sentence, seems to be what breaks the usually cool and calm exterior of your girlfriend and she stands and points her finger at you. “Nothing! ¡nada! ¿Cómo te atreves?” she spits out at you, the anger in her tone surprises you, you have never heard her speak like this, “I have sat here and waited. For months I have waited. For anything from you. Being with you is not like a long-distance relationship. You go, for months at a time, you go. And you expect me to sit here and wait. And I do. You do not text, you do not call. I understand that you cannot but do not say I have made no sacrifice for this relationship. When you got lost in the Gobi desert for weeks, what do you think I was doing? Sitting here! Jumping out of my skin every time the phone rang in case it was your Mami telling me you had been found dead. I did not play in The Copa De La Reinga final because I was so sick with worry. He hecho sacrificio. mi equipo, mi familia ha hecho sacrificio and I will not let you disrespect me or them and let you say otherwise.” 

Alexia doesn’t lose any of her anger in her tirade. And the silence that settles over the apartment is heavy. She seems to have surprised herself, as her eyes go wide and she opens her mouth again… but you interrupt her. “No Ale. Do not apologise.” you hold your hand up. “I didn’t think. I'm sorry. You are right. I am not good for you.” This is why you didn’t do relationships. You were a bad partner. You needed to be free, outside, exploring. You lived for adventure. It wasn’t fair.

“No! No Carino, that is not what I said!” tears are in her eyes now, and you knew this would be hard, but you didn’t know it would be this hard. “I love you...” “I love you too,” she quickly replies. Neither of you had even been shy with your affirmations to each other. “I love you so much Ale. But I have to go and do this. I have too. It is who I am. It is my dream. It.. It is my world cup.” She huffs out a laugh as she gently nudges herself into your arms, your attempt at speaking in a way she would understand humouring her. “I know.” she replies, sadly, “but I cannot go through that for 18 months mi amor. I cannot.” “And I won’t ask you to, love.” You move a strand of hair from her face as you kiss her lips, gently, there's a finality in it, you open your mouth again but she cuts in. “I can’t say anything that will stop you, can i?” she asks, as you shake your head, sadly. “When do you leave?” You cringe as you confirm her worst thoughts, “tomorrow.” She takes a deep breath and presses her face into your neck. “Can we do one thing before you go?” she asks you. 

Anything. You would give this woman in your arms anything she asked for at that moment. Apart from stay. And that's how you found yourself swinging on your old lightweight hammock. 

Strung up securely in the Putellas back yard. As you lay on your (ex?) girlfriend's chest, as you both looked up at the stars. You chatted into the night, you laughed and you cried. You fumbled under the blankets like horny teenagers. She asked you to promise to contact when you could. And you asked her to not worry, to concentrate on the Olympics and move on from you. You kept it to yourself that there was no way you were moving on from her.  You didn't know she was keeping the same thing to herself as she promised you she would try.

It was the weirdest break up anyone had ever had.

And, 17 months later, as you lay, trapped, entombed in your own coffin of ice,  you were sure that you could still feel the sway of that hammock, feel the heat of that Barcelona evening and hear the cicadas chirping. As the ice pressed all around you, all you could dream of was being back in that back yard in Barcelona, in the arms of Alexia.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Denali. Done. Vinson. Done.

Aconcagua, Kilimanjaro, Elbrus, Puncak Jaya . Done, Done, Done and Done. You’d faced the heat of Africa, the remoteness of Antarctica, the desolation of Russia. And here you were, finally, on your final summit. Everest. It was somewhat of a dichotomy between the mountaineering community. Everest had become a commercial hub. Have-a-go mountaineers paying big bucks to get a free ride to the highest mountain in the world. But to you, it had always been sacred. You had imagined it, as you climbed hills in the English lakes as a teenager, of one day scaling the iconic mountain. So, why? As you stood on the highest point of earth. After 3 months of acclimatisation. Were you thinking of your ex-girlfriend? Who were you kidding? You knew why. 

Alexia hadn’t been far from your thoughts on any of your summits. Her face popping into your mind at each peak. As you pocketed some rock as had become your tradition you would imagine her face as your hand touched the earth. The same earth she was on, thousands of miles away, probably in lush, manicured grass, kicking a ball around and entertaining thousands. Your group had become your family, and you had grown as close as one. Arguing when tensions got high but snuggling together to share warmth when in survival mode. Joking in bars across the globe and playing so many games of gin rummy that you sure a record had been broken. They teased you relentlessly for the old boots with silly laces you wore on the lower reaches of each summit, before you reached heights that you all had to wear mountaineering boots. Alexia, unknowingly, with you every step of the way. They had even made a game in each country you entered, to help you pick the rudest or funniest postcard to send to Barcelona, snippets of your time you sent to Alexia, keeping the promise you made over a year ago. You could have rang, you know you could. But you didn’t know if you heard her voice you wouldn’t high-tail it to Barcelona. So you sent postcards. It felt old-fashioned. It felt romantic. And you think that really, you liked that she couldn’t reply. It felt anonymous. You took off your snow goggles as you stood at the peak. You had 3 minutes on the highest point on earth without your goggles before you would become snow blind. The sun being about 60% stronger at this elevation. You could see the curvature of the earth.  It reminded you of the curvature of Alexia's shoulders as you held her from behind.

You took in a deep breath of thin air.

Your lung capacity feels like it has doubled since you left Europe.

You have done it. Without oxygen. 7 summits. Your life goal. Complete.

And now. You wanted to go home. 

“Congratulations English Sherpa! You have done it!” Arjan, clamps a heavily gloved hand on your shoulder, his wide smile visible even beneath his snood. Ice hanging from his moustache. He had to shout for you to hear him over the wind. He was a sherpa, he had travelled all around the world with you being one of the experts in the group, he’d affectionately nicknamed you the English Sherpa after he had seen your climbing prowess on your first summit. “We have done nothing yet, my friend. You know you’ve only climbed Everest once you get back down safely” you reply, glee in your voice, fixing your goggles back to your face. “Spoken like a true Sherpa.” he replied, and you both embraced at the top of the world. You didn’t hang around for long. Your entire expedition made it to the top of your final summit and you quickly pictured the moment before making your way down. The biggest risk on Everest is getting stuck in a crowd. It is not as technically difficult as other summits you have done. But without oxygen, a minute can feel like an hour on the highest point on earth. You heard once, it is easier to be saved from the surface of the moon than it is to be saved from the surface of Everest. Luck, however, seemed to be on your side. You had made good progress up, and were making even better progress down. With each step you became more and more gleeful, past 8,000 metres you started to finally feel safer. 7,000 metres, you let the excitement of your achievement settle into your bones. 6,000 metres you let your mind wander to finally going home but why was home seeming more like a sundrenched balcony in Barcelona rather than a green field of England? 5,000 metres, you promised yourself that you would use the satellite phone in your pocket to ring Alexia once you got back to base camp. Tell her you’d done it. Maybe even beg her forgiveness. You were alone on the mountain, ahead of most of your group and low enough now to be unattached to any guidelines, it was a usual affair.  Until it wasn’t.

You felt the ground rumble beneath you. It was barely noticeable. It felt more like the feeling you get when you’re lying in bed and a large truck drives past your house.

But it was enough to instil fear in you as you looked up and saw a wall of moving snow hurtling towards you. It was a slab avalanche, probably caused by the movement of the climbers above, and paired with the lateness of the day, the snow that had fallen and compacted overnight had melted enough to loosen into a wall of ice that was directed your way.

You had about 30 seconds.

You knew to go sideways, do not outrun an avalanche. It's like trying to outrun a cheetah. But this wall of ice looked wide, you ran to your side, moving slowly in the deep snow. As you ran you pulled your goggles back onto your face.

You could feel the earth beneath you falling away as the snow you trod on was unearthed by the vibrations of the snow above.

You ran. You ran for your life, but you knew this wasn’t good. Your training kicked in.

You saw a boulder in front of you and you threw yourself behind it, you created a ball with your body, making sure that you created a hole around your face you would be able to use to breathe. You pulled your ice pole from your back and stuck it into the ground next to you, that would help when you were covered by snow and you didn't know which way was up. Which way you would need to dig. You put one hand in your pocket and pulled the satellite phone in front of your face.

A thunderous rumble. 

And then. 

Silence. Darkness.  —----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alexia didn’t have her phone on at half time. She never paid it any attention - playing or not she was too focussed on the game.

Today, though, she didn’t know why. But she did.

She felt her phone vibrate in the bag at her feet.

And something compelled her to actually make the effort to dig into her bag and pull it out.

The number looked weird. Not a Spanish number, or an English one, she had gotten used to all the +44’s that had rang her over the year spent with you.

She stepped out of the unfamiliar changing room into the impressive corridors of Old Trafford. A post-season friendly. Barcelona Vs Manchester United. The game didn’t mean anything but it was always exciting to check another famous stadium off the list. A sold out crowd and an evening game. Can’t get much better.

She found a disused office room and managed to press accept on the call.

“Hola?”

At first she thought she’d missed it. Nothing on the line responded to her, as she pulled the phone away to check she saw the call had connected… ‘Scammers’ she cursed in her mind, moving to hang up. But just before she did…

“Hola, Ale.” She couldn’t believe it. Your voice. She dropped her weight onto the table behind her and held a hand to her chest that suddenly felt like it was torn in two. Heart beating faster than any 45 minutes of running could cause.

“¿eres realmente tú?”

“Yes, It’s me Ale.”

Tears brimmed in her eyes and even after everything she felt just the same as she did when she stepped out of that minibus nearly 3 years ago and first set eyes on you.

“Are you okay carino? Did you do it?”  she asked, breathlessly. “I did it, love.” was the response. In her pride at your accomplishment she missed how you hadn’t addressed her first question.

“Nunca tuve ninguna duda, I am so relieved to hear from you. The line is so quiet, are you still there?”

“Si…” a pause which Alexia attributes to the poor connection, “It must be the signal.” she notices you move on, quickly, “Can… can you just talk to me?”. Alexia smiles despite herself, you used to always ask her to talk you to sleep when your mind was whirring, completing your greatest accomplishment must be in that category and she can imagine you fidgeting in pent up adrenaline.

“I can amor, I have a few minutes. I am in Manchester. We are at half time at Old Trafford.”

“Old Trafford, hey?” she hears you laugh, “Finally, a football ground I’ve heard of.” She's missed your teasing lilt.

“Si, even you. It is raining. Why is it always raining here? I imagine you have better weather even at your camp.” Alexia jokes, innocently. The laugh you let out feels a little… forced? But she lets it go.

“I had lunch with your Mami today. We are only an hour or so away from yours, why did you never tell me we were so close?” Again, that laugh that she loves so much, but it felt more tired that she’d heard it before, more muffled. Though. She supposed, you must be exhausted.

“Because then, my love, you would have made us go and watch football matches and I much preferred to spend our time together in my bed.”

“Ah, Si, I remember, you did.” she responds, blushing and not missing a beat. 

“Your Mami is doing well. She is in the stands….” “Tell her I love her, Ale.” you cut in. There's a desperate edge to your voice that sends shivers down Alexia's spine. She stands, “I will. Of course I will. Carino, are you okay?” she realises now, you never answered her first question. “I stood on the top of Everest today, Ale.” you reply. You haven’t answered her question. She opens her mouth to ask it again but you continue, “I stood on the top of Everest and all I could think of was you.” Your words force her to sit again, her spare hand to her mouth, keeping in a muffled sob. “Don’t you think that's insane? That today, Ale. You were in Manchester and someone. On top of the world. The highest point on this Earth. The highest person on this planet. Only about 4 spacemen floating around above me. Had only you in their mind? I think that means you’ve been to the top of the world, Ale. En la cima del mundo conmigo. You were there with me, every step.” You sound drunk, she wouldn’t blame you, thin air for months it wouldn’t take more than half a pint to see you off, the thought of your ramblings makes her smile despite herself, she knows she shouldn’t, but she leans into it. “Everyone here talks like you….” she pauses, “In Manchester. Only me and Ona can understand them. With your flat vowels. It made me think of you more today. Miss you more than normal today. And now you call.” There's a knock on the office door, “Ale, Vamos!” half time has ended. She has never wanted to play football less than right now. “Because we’re soulmates” your voice definitely had a slur to it now, “and I miss you too. I’ll always miss you, my Ale.” you always got soppier when you drank. “You won’t miss me for long, Carino. You will be home soon. I don’t care if you decide that it's England or Spain. Whichever. I will be there. Si?... We will be together soon. We can sort all this out.” “Hopefully, n..to..oo soon.” she struggles to hear you, the connection starting to fail. “Pardon? Amor?” another knock at the door. She feels like she's being pulled in half as she presses the phone closer to her ear. “Amor. I have to go. Well done, Estoy tan orgullosa de ti. Call me when you can.” “I love you, Ale…” “I lo…” beep beep beep. The call drops before she has a chance to respond. —-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- You feel pain all over your body. You had never felt pain like it. It was like every sinew in your body was screaming out in pain. You opened your eyes and immediately closed them again. Blinding white. You heard voices. Alarmed voices. 

Shouting voices. “HERE, HERE!!!” You felt yourself being moved. It made the pain worse. You tried to tell them to stop. 

Your throat couldn't make a sound. And then all you knew was black. 

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- More darkness. You felt something covering your face. Your body being stripped. Water. Boiling water. It burned. You were submerged. “No no no no no no…” was all you could try to vocalise. A calming hand in your hair. “It is lukewarm water, we are trying to bring your body temperature up…” 

No, no. They were lying. The voice was lying. You thrashed. A pain in your arm. A needle? Darkness took you again. —--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “There is no chance, Arjan.” “Bu….” “No. You are an experienced Sherpa. You are letting yourself get lost. There is no chance. She is too far gone. Air evac is the only way. No Nepalese pilot will fly at this altitude. We need to make her comfortable…” —--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- You felt yourself being moved.

Less painful this time.

You felt wind on your face.

This wasn’t natural wind.

The sound of blades. Air moving unnaturally. Choppily.

Your face is covered again. 

The wind gets louder. More mechanical. You feel yourself being lifted up. “You’ve some friends in high places, English Sherpa.” you hear whispered to you, a hand on your forehead. Arjan? Your friend is speaking to you. You feel less alone. You try to open your eyes but the effort feels herculean. And then nothingness. —------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- This time, when you wake up. You stay awake. You’re in an unfamiliar room. It’s obvious it's a hospital room. But you’re alone. You look around and see yourself wired up to all sorts of machines. But that's it. You try to move to sit up but your shoulder screams in protest. You take stock of your body. You feel a bandage wrapped around your head. Your head is banging now you think about it. Your right arm is completely immobile. Your arm wrapped across your chest and hand completely covered by bandages. You try to wiggle your fingers but. Nothing. God. You hope they’re still there. Before you had too long to spiral the door burst open and you were faced with a smiling, familiar face. “Arjan!” you try to exclaim, voice rough from underuse. “She’s awake. My friend!” his sun-soaked face suits his smile. His bushy eyebrows make his eyes almost invisible as he crinkles them in joy. Arjan settles next to you and fills you in on everything you were present for, but missed out on account of being buried alive or completely unconscious. Your choice to hide behind the boulder had been the first thing to save your life. It had protected you from being swept away by the avalanche and was easier to locate. Before you had called Alexia you had contacted base camp. But your GPS had been knocked off so all they knew was that you were alive. And where you told them you had last been. You’d lost consciousness fairley quickly. Brain starved of oxygen in the small air pocket you had created. Hypothermia had set in slowly.

Your hand had been left exposed after using the phone, and you remember wiggling your fingers, seeing them slowly turn black as they succumbed to frostbite. It had taken 3 days to find you. Luckily, you had been the only person caught up in the snow. You remember, now, coming in and out of consciousness. You even recall a bad spell of seeing Alexias face in the boulder your head rested against and talking to it. Maybe you’d keep that you yourself. Bit embarrassing really. Your legs were pinned down by snow. You had used your last piece of strength to thrust your ice pole upwards. You'd chosen the direction based on the way your tears fell. That was the second thing that had saved your life. Arjan had spotted the pole in the ice field. Days after everyone else had given up on ever finding you. You’d been dragged to base camp and they started to treat hypothermia. You were more than halfway to dead. You resembled a corpse. Arjan had told you he'd never seen anyone literally blue. “Pulled it off tho, my friend” he’d tried to joke. “Of course, always” you’d winked back in reply. You'd have no chance of survival whilst still on the mountain. The air was still too thin and your were suffering from hypoxia. Problem was, the air was too thin for an air evacuation and. Well. As you knew. It was easier to be saved from the surface of the moon than it was to be saved from the surface of Everest. The third thing that had saved you. Was Alexia. “You have someone who’s gone to the moon and back for you, my friend.” Once she’d found out you had gone missing she had gone to the UK embassy in London to start a search and rescue campaign. When they hadn’t moved quickly enough she had involved the Spanish government. She’d used her resources and status to launch a media campaign which had pressured both governments. She’d flown to Kathmandu herself and was trying to hire a plane to Lukla when you’d been found. Then her attention turned to locating a pilot crazy enough to fly at such an altitude. Turns out anyone was crazy enough for the right price. And many, many euros later, the highest ever search flight took off from the surface of Everest, with you on board. “She’s a force to be reckoned with, your girl.”

He told you, as he reached to the ground below you, “...and you’ll be happy to hear, I saved your precious boots” he dumped your familiar old tattered boots at the bottom of your bed.

“And some stuff from your tent. But I had to hike it out so I left some of the smellier clothes.” he joked, as you thanked him, he really was a good man. “... Wait… hike it out? How long have I been here?” “You’ve been unconscious for a week my friend. I always told you you were lazy.” You took a moment to take stock. A week. Well. That meant that even if Alexia had been in Kathmandu, she was a million miles away now. The door opens again and you’re too lost in your own thoughts to give any care to the nurse whos been coming in every now and again checking charts whilst you and Arjan chatted. “Ah here she is. La Reina herself!” You turned your head quickly and took in the face that had been the last image in your mind every night, and the first every morning, since the day you had parted. “Ale…” you breathed. Here. She was here. In Kathmandu. In the same room as you. 

She looked as beautiful as ever, hair flowing over her shoulders, blonder than the last time you had seen her. She had gained muscle and her features had sharpened. But everything else was the same. Her smell invaded your senses. That smell that mosquitoes loved so much. You got it. Her eyes were sharp, and directed firmly at you. They looked tired. She held a sense of exhaustion. You wanted her to fall into your arms, but she stood at the door, and you couldn't open them to welcome her in. The moment was heavy and Arjan broke the silence and stood… “I’ll leave you both to it. See you around English Sherpa.” and with a squeeze of your foot he was gone. Leaving you both in a heavy silence. “Thank You Ale.” you said, breaking the silence.

After all Arjan told you, you owed her your life. She didn't respond. But her eyes had moved from your face and were now directed at the boots still on your bed. As battered as ever, Blaugrana laces snapped and re-tied in several places, swatch still visible on the tongue. Maybe you thought that your meeting would be a bit more romantic, not as…tense? She stroked one of the boots gently with her finger, seemingly lost in a trance. “Ale…?” “You have a habit of not telling me important things.” Whatever you expected it wasnt that. “Qué?” “That you speak Spanish, how you feel, I don’t know… that your trapped in a fucking avalanche.” you’d seen her angry before, you’d seen that anger directed at you, but this felt worse. It was directed through you. She kept her distance when all you wanted to do was hold her close. “How could you do that? How could you let us speak knowing that you were about to freeze to death and just chat to me, like it was a normal Sunday afternoon?” “I…I didn’t want to worry you…” you croaked out, you felt like a school child who was being told off by the head teacher. And you deserved it, you supposed. “I will always worry about you, por el amor de dios!!” She started to pace around the bottom of your bed, your eyes moving like they were taking in a tennis match watching her wear the ground down. “...and to think I finished that game. I slept that night at your flat. Happy, finally feeling like I almost had you back. Your mami took me home. And then, the next morning, I walked into the kitchen. And there she was, crying at the table. She could hardly tell me what had happened. And then it all fell into place. You’d called me when you thought you were already in your grave, didn’t you?” All you could do was nod, arms desperate to dry the tears tracking down her face. “I’m glad to see you.” you let out. Unsure of what else to say. “You won’t be. I am so, so angry at you.” “I know you are bu…” 

“No, you did your speaking on that Mountain. Now you listen” Her tears are dry now and the anger is back in her face. “I have sorted a medical flight. We leave tonight. We’re going back to Barcelona. I don’t care if you want to go back to that rainey island or not. It’s not your choice, it's mine. You almost froze to death, you need the sun. The warm. You will come with me every day to the doctors at the club. They will monitor you. Your family will come to visit. You will go to a therapist. You will take your medication. You will not ignore your medication because you think its better to treat yourself with whatever crushed bug or mashed-up leaves you think is better….” She stops for breath. “That was one time…” you mumbled, referring back to the time you insisted that a crushed cucumber was better than antiseptic cream to treat a bee sting. “Nope. You are still listening.” She stopped you, firmly again, but you felt her eyes softening as she took you in, “... and when we get home and you get better, we will talk. We will decide where we are building our life together, but that is one non-negotiable. It will be together. Okay?” She seems to be finished. And she's moved closer to you, close enough for you to reach out and grab her hand with your good one. You nod, and pull her hand to cup your face. “I just have one question.” you ask, seeking permission to speak. She nods as she strokes your face, tired and burnt from over-exposure. “Are these fingers still attached?” you ask, shaking your injured arm at her, “they’re kind of important for my plans, if you know what I mean” you wiggle your eyebrows suggestively. Her laugh makes you think maybe you did die on that mountain, because surely, here, with her, you’re in heaven. “Te amo, idiota” —-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You awoke surrounded by soft sheets and sleep-warm pillows. Your once-injured arm tweaked in pain slightly as you stretched out. You had physio later this afternoon, you thought to yourself, you had better mention it. You rolled out of bed and stumbled into the kitchen, still covered in blankets, bed hair resembling a yeti. You almost tripped up over your rucksack which was laying in the hall. Where it had been since your return to Barcelona, months ago. You hadn’t been ready to unpack it quite yet. You could hear Alexia on the phone out on the balcony, and you gestured the international, ‘want a drink’ sign to her, which she shook her head at. You shrugged. God, sometimes she was so Spanish. A good Brit would never let a hot kettle go to waste. It had been months of reconnection, Alexia finally letting go of her anger as soon as you entered the flat. She broke down in your arms that first night, simultaneously telling you how angry she was at you and how much she loved you at the same time. How she had never been as scared in her life. You just dealt with it by pressing kisses into her hairline.

She'd made you sit in the sun of the balcony every chance she got. Morning, Noon and Night. Moving you around to chase the rays. Insisting that you needed the warmth and vitamins of the sun to recover. The image of you pale, cold and frozen in the hospital in Nepal seared into her mind. When Mapi and Ingrid visited Mapi teased you, and had taken to calling you Bagheera. She said you resembled her cat, chasing the sun to lounge in at every occasion. She quickly stopped when Alexia slapped the back of her head. You no longer had to hide your relationship. Alexia had blown the doors off that as she went to the media in order to get the resources to save you. The feeling of claustrophobia that had made you flee from Barcelona had gone. You knew what being trapped really felt like now. And how you ever thought the love of your life and a shared life in this sun-drenched city was suffocating. Well. That was a different person to who you were now. Yeah, you would always love the outdoors. But you had an anchor now. Something that made you maybe not scale that next peak, and instead be excited to share a recipe with. Maybe not stay on the trail for an extra week, and instead pick out a good film to settle down to. Your mum was over the moon. She’d been a regular visitor. You thought she’d be upset, when you decided to stay in Spain instead of going back to England but she seemed offended by the idea. “That girl saved your life you stupid woman, of course will stay here with her.” Alexia didn’t accept it so easily. She was worried you would feel trapped again, that she wasn’t compromising. She would rather move with you than lose you. “Ale. Barna is your life.” you had replied, simply, “...and you are mine.” “It is not!” she had refused, aghast at the suggestion until you said, “United will have me, so will City, my agent has checked, I would even go to the Championship and play for Newcastle, I look great in black!” “Ale, you literally have a floor tile tattooed on your back. We’re staying here.” you said, deadpan. And she couldn’t say much to that. So, much to the despair of every football fan in England. She signed a new contract with Barcelona not two weeks ago. Maybe it was how settled you felt this morning, as the kettle boiled. The soreness in your muscles after the night you spent together in bed, which must be why your shoulder was straining now. Maybe you'd keep that away from the physio. Though, maybe he’d be happy to hear that your fingers were definitely fully recovered. Not as happy as Alexia was though, you'd bet. But something about this morning made you brave enough to finally open that rucksack in the hallway. As you zipped it open your fingers caught on a single piece of cardboard. A postcard. You flipped it over as arms encircled your waist and gentle lips kissed your shoulder. “Carino?” she asked, looking at the postcard in your hands. “I never got to give you this.” you whispered, as you held the postcard over your shoulder, she let you go as she turned it in her hands. She let out a barking laugh as she moved towards the fridge where 6 other postcards sat proudly, waiting for their 7th to complete the set. A woman in a bikini, sat on a yak wearing a cowboy hat, the imposing structure of Everest in the background. A speech bubble coming out of her mouth ‘I’ve seen bigger’. Alexia rolled her eyes at you as she stuck it to the fridge with a magnet showing the message you wrote all those months ago.

“Ale, I’m here. 

One more summit and I’ll be on my way back to you. For good. How can I say it in your language? ‘It’s coming home’. 

fin. 

[woso-dreamzzz]

Perfect: Christmas

Alexia Putellas x Baby!Reader

Summary: Christmas with Mija

"I've got a present for you."

Alexia flips another page in her book. "Put it under the tree."

"No," Olga says," I'm giving it to you now."

Alexia frowns, finally putting the book down. "It's still a few days before Christmas. Why give it to me now? We're going to my mother's soon."

Olga huffs, rolling her eyes. "Can you play along for just a minute, please?"

"Fine. Fine. What do you want me to do?"

"Close your eyes."

Alexia does as she says, closing her eyes.

She can hear Olga moving about.

"And now hold your hands out."

Alexia holds her hands out and a weight is put into them.

"Open!"

You're in her arms, in a new sets of Christmas-red pyjamas with Santa's face in the middle and a big red bow placed on your head.

You're beaming, fingers pressed into your mouths as you kick your legs happily the moment Alexia makes eye contact.

"Well..." She says," If it isn't the best present in the world! Did you finally wake up from your nap, Mija? I think you did!"

You giggle hysterically as Alexia kisses your tummy and then your cheeks.

"Are you energised to see your Abuela and your Tia? All happy and excited?"

You keep giggling, going all limp in Alexia's arms as she draws you into a little cuddle that has you melting against her.

"A good present?" Olga teases as she pulls on her coat and shoes.

"The most perfect present," Alexia agrees as she forces your wiggling little feet into the cutest pair of boots she's ever seen.

They were a gift from Jenni, an old pair of Osita's that never once got worn because Osita cried the first time she'd tried them on. But they were perfect on you and you wore them happily.

Your little matching jacket is equally as perfect, the same as your little hat and your little scarf that Alexia gently readjusts as she pulls you out of the car while Olga goes up to knock on Eli's front door.

Alba's the one that opens it, allowing Olga in happily before blocking Alexia's way.

"Oh come on," Alexia says with an eye roll," You can't be serious."

"The baby," Alba demands, hands out waiting," I've been deprived of y/n cuddle for ages."

"What do you think, Mija?" Alexia teases, bouncing you softly," Cuddles with Tia Alba or cuddles with Mami?"

You say nonsensical words, nothing more than a string of babble and weird noises but Alexia nods along seriously.

"Sorry, Alba, she wants to stick with me."

She all but shoves past her sister on her way into the house.

"Finally!" Eli, like normal, is a bustle of activity and commanding her household likes it's a military barracks with members of the family sticking closely to the roles she's given them. "I've got a nice little area set up in the sitting room for you to help Mija make some Christmas decorations."

"Mami, she's only little-"

"And I did the same with you and Alba!" Eli waves away Alexia's concerns. "There's instructions on the table so follow them! She'll be making a paper snowflake."

Like Alexia had predicted though, she's doing most of the work. The folding and the cutting and making a little hole at the top so she can thread a tiny piece of green ribbon through it to hang on the tree later today.

You get to have the crayon though.

Eli, like her militarised conveyor belt of aunts and uncles making deserts in the kitchen, had already thought of everything so had preselected the green and red and silver and gold crayons for you to use so it's sufficiently Christmassy.

So, there you sit with the little paper snowflake Alexia made, clumsily scrawling on it with a crayon that you don't even really know how to hold properly while Alba attempts to coerce you into her arms.

You ignore her though, happy sitting on your Mami as she readjusts one of the bows in your hair and straightens out the little outfit you're wearing.

"And what do we do when Tia Alba's being pushy? We stick out tongues out at her!" Alexia demonstrates but you seem more interested in grabbing her tongue in your little finger than you are imitating her.

Before the end of the evening, Alexia manages to make you at least four snowflake decorations for the tree and you take great delight in scrawling over all of them in crayons that Alexia's sure Eli bought just for you.

The decorations hang on the Christmas tree right up until the special day and Alexia takes a moment to smile at your colouring before she sets you down in front of your mountain of gifts.

Perhaps she had gone overboard with the Christmas shopping this year but it was hardly her fault when everyone else had gone overboard too.

Your pile of presents is large and, settled amongst the very middle of it, Alexia can barely see your head poking out from the mountains of boxes surrounding you.

You're not very good at tearing open your gifts so after several minutes of watching you struggle, Alexia settles on the floor with you to help.

"Look, mija," She coos," Another football for you! And a jersey from Ingrid and Mapi. It's got your name on it!"

Most of your gifts have been football related making you the most kitted out baby Alexia's ever seen.

But there's also a toy puppy amongst all the football stuff and cute little outfits that matched many of Alexia's and even a cute little chalkboard and coloured chalk for your bedroom for when you got a bit older.

"And this is from me," Alexia says as she gently unwraps a photo frame," That's you and me, Mija. On adoption day. Look at how happy we are."

You clumsily slap at the picture before forcing it out of Alexia's hand to smack against your lips in a clumsy version of a kiss.

"Yes, Mija," Alexia laughs," That's exactly what I'm doing to you!"

[wileys-russo]

filling the void (9) II a.putellas

part of the filling the void universe ft solstråle from @girlgenius1111 family line series filling the void (9) II a.putellas

you twirled a pen between your fingers as your gaze flickered downward, tapping your phone and rolling your eyes seeing another five minutes had passed without a text, solstråle now nearly fifteen minutes late and not any sort of explanation offered.

at first you’d wondered if maybe she got lost, but alexia had already told you that mapi had shown solstråle exactly where the library was. 

your sister herself had locked you in her car and refused to let you out today until you promised to be nice, after insisting on picking you up from work and dropping you off to your little study session to ‘save you a walk, which really you knew was just her way of ensuring you didn’t bail.

not that you had plans to, but you were starting to wonder if solstråle was.

alexia had at least followed through on her part of the study deal, and with some sly timing on your shopping trip inside her closet and olga keeping the blonde distracted during, you’d wound up with more than you were promised, much to alexia’s disdain once she noticed a couple of days later exactly what was missing.

having been raised right you were more than ready to be nice and attempt again to break through solstråle’s awkward interior as you arrived and made your way to the breakout room you’d booked. 

after filling mapi in on what happened at the game and how you were sure solstråle already disliked you, mapi was quick to assure it wasn’t you, ingrids sister was just…quiet. 

so trying to prepare best you could for what was in its entirety a new experience for you, you’d spent the morning sourcing some worksheets online and scouring your room for your old textbooks.

having given most of them away you at least still had a couple of basic ones from your final year of school, but you also just had no idea where the norwegian you’d be tutoring was even up to or what bar her spanish she specifically would want and need help with.

however now, still in your work scrubs with a hoodie tossed over the top and the beginning dull throb of an impending headache settling behind your eyes, your willingness and readiness to be so nice to the clearly time poor norwegian was wagering on paper thin.

tapping your nails against the desk you briefly considered leaving, a quick check showing the next bus you could take home was in five minutes and the stop was right outside, but just as you were preparing to pack up your things there was a knock on the door.

the taller brunette didn’t wait for you to say anything, the knock seeming more to let you know she’d arrived as she closed the door behind her and slumped down in the seat across from you, backpack dumped on the table and not a single word of conversation offered.

“llegas tarde.” you raised an eyebrow and stared her down as she looked right back at you blankly and your eyes rolled. “you are late.” you repeated in english, the norwegian shrugging and mumbling a quiet seemingly unbothered apology.

knowing that holding onto the anger simmering inside you would only make this even less productive you paused to calm yourself, twisting alba’s bracelet on your wrist and counting to five in your head before deciding to just start this all over fresh.

“um i do not really know where to start. do you have homework?” you guessed might be a decent starting point, the girl nodding wordlessly and moving to unzip her bag, pulling out a few loose worksheets as you cringed at the obvious disorganisation hidden within her backpack.

she slid the worksheets across the table as you flipped them around and scanned them, noting some were history and rest spanish language and literature. “do you have one you want to do more?” you questioned, solstråle only shrugging. “vale. or we could work on your spanish?” another silent shrug.

you could feel your patience being tested with each passing moment she remained quiet, trying to remind yourself over and over what mapi said about this taking some time, but this was rapidly seeming much more impossible than you were lead to originally believe.

“is there things you ah, struggle with? with spanish?” you questioned further, another shrug as you inhaled sharply and again counted to five in your head.

“bien. let us work through this then, I think I remember this case study.” you mumbled, scooting your chair around the table so the two of you could both read the worksheet right side up, not missing the way the older girl was fast to tense up and lean right away from you.

you tried not to be offended, subtly sniffing yourself and frowning when all you could smell was the perfume you’d spritzed yourself with, maybe it was too strong or she just had a sensitive sense of smell.

none the less taking your time you read through the first question, trying to speak slowly and clearly, well aware english was not either of your native languages. “did you bring the article?” you asked, checking the papers she’d put down and not able to find it in the small stack. 

“a yes or no would work.” you remanded when once more all you got was a shrug, followed by an eye roll and a hand shoved into the backpack.

“how do you even find the right paper in there?” you asked with a disturbed look, solstråle pausing to glare at you, mumbling something you didn’t understand and assumed was norwegian.

“here.” finally, a word, but you jumped with the force she slammed the paper down onto the desk with. 

“no, this is not it.” you scanned the first few sentences and shook your head. “well you have read it? why do you need it then?” the girl questioned bluntly and you were most taken aback by what was easily the longest sentence you’d heard leave her mouth.

“so we can answer these, because you will need quotes for these first three.” you managed to get out with a hardened jaw, flaring your nostrils as the brunette snatched the paper back and shoved it into her bag.

“solstråle. do you have the paper?” you asked firmly when a minute went by and she made no other move. once more, a muted shrug, and then you realised something you might have been overlooking.

“can you not read this? the spanish?” you asked a little more bluntly than intended, tired from a long day and what felt like a pointless exercise in patience, but it would seem you’d struck a nerve you hadn’t meant to with the taller girl none the less. 

“i can read spanish. i do not know what mapi told you but are you supposed to be helping me? because all you are doing is asking stupid questions. it has been thirty minutes and we have done nothing, this is a waste of time!” the norwegian scoffed as you stopped, sizing her up with narrowed eyes. 

“well you were late so i was already here for fifteen minutes doing nothing anyway, and i have been asking questions so i know what to help you with! but all i get is-” you pulled a face and aggressively shrugged your shoulders a few times clearly mocking the taller girl who gave you a glare. 

“alexia’s super little sister, everyone says you are so smart. can you not see i do not want your help? you want to be a doctor no? so go find someone who does!” solstråle grunted and now you were the one to scoff, pushing your chair back and shooting to your feet, rounding the table and collecting your things.

“eres un maldito idiota!” you spat, your temper well and truly unleashed now as all of your work to minimise the frustrations with the sullen girl across from you melted to nothing as your head was boiling.

“snobbete kjerring.” came the reply she knew you wouldn’t understand, your things all shoved into your bag now as you muttered angry rapid spanish under your breath, having reached the end of your rope you didn’t care if she understood you or not.

“you know i did this as a favour tonta. i have worked all day, i came right here after my shift on time. i have my own studies to do too because yes i want to be a nurse. i am smart and i know what i want to do with my life. maybe if you get your head out of your own ass engen, you might too! and you are right this is a waste of time, my time!” and with that you stormed out of the room, beelining for the bus stop and cursing every foul word you knew under the sun toward the girl you’d left behind.

~

if nobody knew you were in a mood from the way you ignored the family group chat trying to make weekend plans about alexia’s game and a barbeque and left everyone on read, it became glaringly obvious with the way the front door slammed after you as you stomped inside, alba glancing up from her phone as you dropped your bag on the table.

you threw open the refrigerator still muttering angrily under your breath and ignoring her greeting toward you, grabbing out a punnet of strawberries and swinging it harshly closed again. 

then without a word you snatched the unopened can of lemonade your sister had in her hand, flopping yourself down on the couch with a huff and another quiet angry grumble, angrily shoving a strawberry in your mouth with a scowl.

alba whistling under her breath spun around on the stool she was sat on, knowing you’d come from your study session and your current tense mood coupled with the fact you were home an hour earlier than expected was all she needed to know it clearly hadn’t gone well.

“lo que pasó?” she appeared in front of you, arms crossed and eyebrow raised as you took an aggressive sip of lemonade and shook your head.

“no quiero hablar de ello.” you grumbled, not looking at her and instead flicking through the recordings trying to find the latest episode of your favourite reality tv dating show.

“bien.” alba shrugged, taking a seat beside you and counting down in her head as you continued to button mash the poor remote in your hand. three, two, one…

“dios mío solstråle is such an asshole! first she was late without a reason or an apology, then she ignored me and refused to speak, then she would not tell me what the problem she wanted to study was? then all she did was-” once again you aggressively shrugged your shoulders up and down as your sister hid a smile behind her hand, the older girl for once not wanting to wind you up any further and knowing you needed to let this out as you rambled on and on.

“-she belongs in your class, your niños are smarter than she is at least they know how to speak and listen at the same time! imbécil estúpida. i am not doing that again! alexia can…well she can take a hike!” you decided with a snarl, alba now unable to hide the belt of laughter which left her mouth as you shot her a mean glare.

“where did you learn that saying? take a hike? qué significa eso?” your sister laughed as you rolled your eyes.

“one of your american rom coms?” alba mocked making quotations with her finger as you scowled and shoved her, admittedly having quite the fascination for seemingly silly english speaking love movies which was how you’d gotten much better at speaking and understanding it in the first place.

“do you want some advice hermanita?” alba asked after a few moments of tense silence as you shrugged, a slight snicker leaving your sisters mouth as you clocked the gesture would seem slightly hypocritical given your previous rant.

“no? vale! good luck saying no to ale after you stole half her closet diablillo.” alba held her hands up and walked away leaving you to stew in your anger a little while longer. 

though as you sat and thought and stewed, you realised some advice would not go to waste and of all people alba would probably be the most qualified to provide it.

so with a huff you stood to your feet, alba already hearing your footsteps head toward where she was sat out on the back deck soaking up the last few hours of sun before the door slid open and she glanced up.

“advise me por favor.” you sat down beside her and gestured for her to speak as your sister snatched the lemonade from your hand and took a mouthful, placing the can down out of reach and turning to face you properly.

“have you thought about how this feels for solstråle?” alba questioned at first though you could tell from her tone it was rhetorical and didn’t beg an answer.

“she is in a new country, learning a new language, at a new school, where everyone else is years and years and years ahead. then you come along when you are born here, you speak the language, you have finished school. you find things easy, but solstråle will not and maybe she also does not know what she actually needs help with fresa, only that she is struggling.” alba continued as you slowly nodded to show you were listening.

“now imagine if you had to move to norway, you had to learn norwegian but learn it mostly it in english, when spanish is your native language, and all from a girl who you don’t know with a weird accent who thinks she knows everything. then the entire plan is not even your idea but something you feel you need to do because your hermana suggested you need it, so you already go into it thinking your hermana thinks you cannot do it yourself.” alba spoke slowly as again you nodded, feeling your anger slowly melt away as the cogs of your brain ticked over.

“i do not think i know everything.” you grumbled with a huff, fixed with a look of disbelief as you rolled your eyes, maybe you could come across as a know it all sometimes. “you have a god complex fresita and it is alexia’s fault for always telling you that you are perfect.” alba quipped with a snort, silencing you with a raised eyebrow before she continued

“then this girl with a weird accent asks you lots of questions about norwegian but she asks you in english, that you probably do not know the answer to, and she has a short temper, a hot head, not much patience, and gives up after one time when she is not even trying her best. would you not be maybe a little bit frustrated? confused? embarrassed?” alba questioned again and now you knew she expected an answer as your body seemed to sag.

“sí, sería difícil, then i called her an idiota and just stormed off!” you exhaled heavily, things suddenly now a little more in perspective as you dragged your hands down your face. “está bien tonta, not everyone is built for teaching, especially not hot heads.” alba chuckled patting your knee as you peeked out from behind your hands giving her a look of annoyance.

“is there some advice coming soon puta?” “did you not hear what i just said about patience?”

“espere, mapi is calling me.” you felt your phone vibrating in your pocket, still on silent after the work day as you fished it out and clicked accept.

“hola mapi, i do not know what-” you started completely ready for the spaniard to start yelling at you but you were surprised at what followed next.

“fresa have you seen solstråle? her location cut off, she was supposed to already be home and she is not answering her phone. did you see her leave? did she drive?” mapi asked in a tone more serious than you think you’d ever heard, the edge of worry to her voice obvious as you frowned.

“no we finished up early, i did not see her leave i took the bus home about…two hours ago?” you tried to guess, mapi thanking you bluntly and hanging up before you could even say another word.

you tried to brush it off, as a teenager yourself you often made excuses not to have to come home on time, and if you weren’t so scared about driving and had your license you were certain the freedom of a car would be tempting.

but as alba began to try and lay out how you would be better to tackle your next session, you couldn’t shake the weird pin prick of something sitting at the back of your head about the stony norwegian, and just maybe you were a little concerned about if she was okay, and that if god forbid something had happened, was it partially your fault?

~

"fresa valentina putellas segura!" you looked up from your phone and exhaled heavily, wincing at the use of your full name and glaring over your shoulder toward elena who shrugged and sent you a knowing smile, busy on a phone call as you heard the car door close.

"i could have gotten a lift home with elena mami." you mumbled, groaning as another car door shut and both your sisters scrambled out of the car, clearly bickering over something as they pushed and shoved one another in their haste to get over to where you were sat.

"elena is who called me! i had to find out from her that you were at the hospital? hablas en serio?" your mami huffed, smacking the back of your head as you pulled a face and rubbed it with a scowl.

"we should go and yell at the nurses for not calling you sooner mami, she is a baby!" alexia chimed in as she and alba arrived and you closed your eyes and sighed again, looking up to the sky as your face was warmed with sunshine, trying to drown out the three lectures which washed over you from the women stood fussing around you.

"we are not at the hospital, it is a medical centre and i am almost eighteen. once you are over sixteen you can make your own medical decisions, and i am fine." you reminded with another sigh, hearing footsteps and cracking an eye open to watch your mami march away from the bench you were sat on to go and talk to elena who was now off the phone.

"you are still a baby. venga alba, get her crutches." your eldest sister ordered as you sat up properly, sharply smacking the girls hands away as she hissed and narrowed her eyes at you in a glare.

"i can get them myself! i can walk without them but they would not let me leave unless i took them, la doctora era tan dramática." you grumbled in annoyance, only having mildly sprained your ankle and insistent that everyone was over reacting from the moment you fell.

it had been a harmless accident, however it had looked a lot worse than it was.

you'd just finished taking an elderly gentlemens vitals after you'd already collected his blood, the vials labelled and stored properly out back you'd been on your way back to the room to advise the gentlemen could leave, but you'd not been paying attention to the floor.

the clinic currently had a student on for work placement week, a meek and quiet fifteen year old boy who looked terrified anytime someone spoke to him, and with the way he went pale at the sight of blood it had you all wondering just who at his school he'd wronged to end up on placement here of all places.

it would seem he'd somehow dropped and smashed a few vials of someones blood after being asked to carry them back to the storeroom, and while he was busy stumbling through apologies to the nurse he was assigned to shadow for the day, elena, he'd not made any sort of effort to clean up.

so without a warning sign of any kind at least you hadn't looked down to see what you were hurrying toward and before you could blink you'd slipped over with a loud thump and you were covered in someone else’s blood.

of course without knowing the context of what happened the moment your coworkers appeared there had been all sorts of chaos that followed, everyone checking you for wounds and cuts as patients were hurried back into the collection rooms and nobody listened to the student trying to stammer out what had actually happened.

none the less you'd managed to land awkwardly on your ankle and not able to put much pressure on it your boss mateo had insisted you go get it x-rayed to rule it out of being anything serious, shutting down your protests with a firm look and ordering elena to drive you.

so thankfully with spare scrubs always handy you'd been able to change, not able to think of much worse than sitting at the medical centre covered in blood and the looks that would attract when you explained the issue was only your ankle.

you'd managed to charm your way out of anyone at work calling your mami, assuring she would be busy at her own job with her phone in her locker, and you'd just call one of your sisters once you knew what was wrong not wanting to panic anyone without a need.

however elena knowing you all too well knew you'd try to keep this to yourself and as you were being x-rayed it seemed she had slyly called eli to inform her of what had happened. which of course in your family may as well have been a bat signal for everyone to panic and over-react, exactly what you'd wanted to avoid in the first place.

"put your arms around my neck pequeña." alexia instructed as you gave her a look of disbelief. "alexia. eres sordo? i said i can walk myself!" you huffed, trying to stand up as alba pushed you back down onto the bench, snatching your crutches and she was off toward the car.

"cuídate chica, i will let mateo know what happened and i am sure he will give you the rest of the week off to recover. after all we have the student to help out!" elena appeared and squeezed your shoulder, grinning at the glare you gave her as she winked and hurried away to her own car before you could say a word, eli calling out another thank you as she did.

"and you will be taking the time off fresa." your mami’s gaze shifted to you and warned sharply as you groaned, already over all of the fussing yet you knew it had barely begun.

"estoy bien! i can work in reception and sit at the front desk, do admin and stay off my ankle and-" you tried to argue, falling silent at the fierce looks sent your way both by eli and alexia, crossing your arms and scowling.

"sí, me tomaré tiempo libre." you begrudgingly agreed with a sigh, eli nodding happily before she hurried off into the medical centre ignoring your yells after her that you already had everything you needed.

"derecha hermanita, arms around my neck." alexia repeated herself expectantly as she leaned down a little closer and once more you scoffed. "i can walk! aléjate de mí." you growled, trying to stand and grunting as again you were pushed back down.

"alexia!" "you are not walking to the car." "vale, i will sleep on this bench then." you puffed out stubbornly with a shake of your head.

"deja de ser idiota! you can put your arms around my neck and i will carry you, or i will pick you up over my shoulder como un bebé pequeño." your sister threatened seriously and judging by the look on her face you knew she was far from joking.

so mumbling about how embarrassing this was you did as she requested, knowing the alternative was worse, alexias arms wrapping around you as you were picked up and off the bench, were grateful there weren't many people around to see this as your sister carried you fireman style to the car.

"esto es ridículo." you muttered bitterly, alexia going as far as to do your seat belt up for you as alba sat in the front and your mami reappeared, a copy of your x-ray and some other papers in hand as alexia sat in the passenger seat fussing over you and you squeezed your eyes closed.

this was going to be far more painful than your ankle was.

~

"por el amor de dios it is a sprain! a mild sprain! not a break, or a fracture, or a-" but your protests fell on deaf ears as alexia lowered you down onto the sofa and ignored you, chattering away to alba about everything they assumed you needed.

you’d already had to fight them off not to shower and dress you like a child when you’d returned home, both girls settling for hovering right outside the bathroom door like guard dogs.

with eli’s help you utilised the shower chair she’d refused to touch throughout her own recovery to take the pressure off your ankle, sighing in relief as you’d washed the days events off of you.

"elevate and ice!" your mami called out from the kitchen where she was already prepping things for lunch, alba tossing alexia an ice pack, a tea towel already slung over your eldest sisters shoulder as your jaw clenched.

you hissed as alexia grabbed your ankle, lifting your leg to slide a pillow beneath and giving you a look. "mild?" she scoffed as you glared and grumbled something under your breath about how even mild sprains hurt when someones nails dig into them.

"mild, read the papers tonta! mami has about four copies." you muttered with a roll of your eyes, wincing as alexia wrapped a tea towel around your ankle to secure the ice pack to it, apologising quietly as she adjusted your ankle to sit comfortably on the pillow it was propped on.

“this is like when diablillo broke her toe.” alba chuckled at the memory, alexia trying to hide a wince as your eyes locked in on her and narrowed into a glare. “and whose fault was that?”

eli had been enjoying a couple of hours of peace, alba not yet home from school, alexia at training and a much younger you dead asleep in bed after a psychology appointment, pulled out of school at lunch time to attend.

to try and take your mind off of the contents of the appointment, which given you were five years old and learning what grief was in the wake of your papi’s passing were always emotionally taxing, eli had taken you grocery shopping.

big mistake.

you’d always been a very confident, outgoing and sure of yourself child, having to be in order to keep up with your big loud family and especially your strong willed sisters. so it was no surprise that the moment eli pulled out her list you were taking it off of her and charging away.

but you weren’t good at following the list so nearly every second thing you tossed into the cart, your mami took out and put back, sighing at your protests and attempts to rationalise the purchase, list taken out of your possession and an agreement made if you wouldn’t sit in the cart you had to have a hand on it at all times.

but the other part of that agreement, granted you stuck to it which was becoming increasingly hard given everything you wanted was just out of reach with how eli strategically parked the cart in each aisle, was that at the end of it you could choose something as a reward.

your mami already knew what your choice would be so it was no surprise when finally as everything was ticked off the list and you were given the green light you raced right to the produce section, eli lifting you up onto her hip so you could properly survey the punnets and punnets of strawberries in front of you.

however when almost twenty minutes later when you still hadn���t made a choice your mami was starting to lose patience, gently trying to hurry you along as she watched you carefully survey each and every strawberry with narrowed eyes.

finally, one was chosen, and it had seemed the grocery trip coupled with your appointment earlier in the afternoon had wiped you out, falling asleep in the car on the way home as your mami slowly woke you, hand in hers and leading you to your bedroom where you crashed out right on top of the covers, red tightly in hand.

but now a couple of hours later it seemed eli’s peace was about to end as alba came tearing in the door, chattering away on her phone and your mami’s eyes rolled watching her once neatly organised kitchen become anything but as your hormone filled teenage sister piled a plate high with some post school fuel.

alexia was next, flying through the door and bringing jenni with her of course, their chattering filling the house as alba spoke louder in return on the phone, retreating to her room with a slam of her door as the noise jolted you awake.

your mami shook her head, watching your sister and her girlfriend rummage through the refrigerator just as alba had done moments ago, the once fully stocked shelves already beginning to clear out in just a matter of a few minutes.

everyone greeting eli the woman was grateful she was still able to sit and read her book, both your sisters old enough not to need her attention the way you did, but moving to the living room and with her head buried in literature she missed alexia grab out your specially selected strawberries.

however it was the very first thing you noticed as you tiredly padded into the kitchen, rubbing your eyes and blinking to try and clear them of sleep, jenni noticing you first with a grin and bending down to open her arms for a hug. you were more than ready to wander into them however before you could take another step alexia bit into a strawberry and you gasped, suddenly wide awake.

“ale those are mine! volver a ponerlos!” you demanded angrily, stomping on over as your sister chuckled and shook her head, jenni standing again with a defeated sigh that you’d rejected her hug.

“you do not own all the fresones in this house monstruito.” alexia grinned, biting into another one just to wind you up as you huffed and glared up at her, she was always at her most annoying after she’d trained and was full of endorphins as your mami tried to explain to you.

“i own those! they are mine i bought them today at the market with mami!” you tried to explain, attempting to climb up onto the counter to grab them but your little feet wouldn’t grip onto the stone walls of the counter as you watched on uselessly as now jenni took a bite.

“oh do you want one?” alexia smirked, one hand pressed to your forehead holding you off as she held a strawberry down to you but just out of reach, grinning as you reached for it with frustrated little grunts.

alexia nodded for jenni to tip out the rest of the punnet into a small bowl on the counter, grabbing the seemingly empty container they’d once been in and letting you go, putting what appeared to be the last strawberry into her mouth with a content sigh.

“aquí monstruito.” your sister handed you the empty container as your jaw dropped and you looked up at her in disbelief, a smug smile on the older girls face as jenni nudged her in the back that maybe this was taking the teasing a little too far.

letting out a war cry you charged at her but alexia already anticipated the attack, easily holding you off again with a hand covering your face, words muffled against her palm as your arms swung trying to connect with any part of her body.

but when that didn’t work you resorted to plan b, winding your leg up and kicking at her as hard as you could, your foot bouncing off of her bare shin and you felt something crack, stopping your movement all together as alexia’s grin was wiped away watching your face pale.

“hey hey hey hermanita-” but right as she squatted down to try and check in you let out a blood curdling scream, falling to the ground and holding your foot as suddenly the kitchen was full of people, everyone fussing over you as you pushed both of your sisters away, only accepting eli’s arms which scooped you up and sat you on the counter.

“no! te odio!” you screamed at alexia who tried to move in to hug you, the eighteen year old flinching away as if she’d been burned, alba moving in instead as you pushed your face into her stomach and gripped her school shirt in your hands as eli ever so gently moved your leg, dodging the way it kicked out in reflex.

“oh mi nena, i think you might have broken your big toe.”

safe to say your sisters both learned a very valuable lesson about how far to take things when pushing you around and teasing you that day, alexia especially.

"do you not have anything else better to do than fuss and annoy me capitana?" you grumbled sarcastically, eyes rolling yet again as your sister fluffed and prepped the cushions behind your back now, karate chopping them making you snicker with slight amusement at the concentration on her face as she did so.

"tiene razón mija, look at the time you should go, you have that meeting!" eli called out in agreement as alexia hummed. "and don't you have niños to dumb down?" you leaned back and looked up at your middle sister who was stood behind the couches, a brush and tie in hand as she grabbed your hair and started to scrape it up into a bun despite the fact your arms were fine and you could easily do it yourself.

"alba!" you yelped as the flat side of the brush smacked against your forehead. "don't hit her puta she's hurt!" alexia reached over and shoved the younger girl who rolled her eyes and tilted your head back to kiss your forehead in a silent apology as you made an indignant huff and jerked away from her.

"student free day." alexia explained on alba's behalf, seemingly satisfied with how she'd smacked and poked the cushions into order behind you, and you had to admit you were quite comfortable.

"if you need anything you tell mami or alba, do not get up!" your sister warned sternly, giving you the firm captains look you knew struck fear into her teammates but did nothing much for you as you raised your eyebrows in acknowledgement.

"fresa valentina-" "bien i will not move! váyase and stop with the middle name." you groaned shooing your hands for her to leave. "te quiero, do not do anything stupid!" she warned shoving your head to the side as you mocked her under your breath.

"more like anything else stupid." alba chimed in from the kitchen, your middle finger popping up at her as your mami clicked her tongue in disapproval.

"what?" you sighed as still alexia stayed standing in front of you expectantly. "i am not saying it back." you turned on the tv with a shrug, browsing for what to watch as your sister huffed and finally moved out of the way.

overhearing alexia tell eli that she and olga would be back for dinner you groaned, knowing everyone would be fussing over you despite the fact you were fine.

“can olga come and you stay home? your home.” you suggested, your mami clicking her tongue again with a huff as now alexia flipped you off making you grin and return the gesture. 

“dibujar!” alba cried out as she joined in, now all three of you using both your hands to flip one another off with matching grins as eli sighed, having flashbacks to when you were all much younger.

“basta de esto! I raised you three better than this.” your mami smacked a wooden spoon against the counter as all three of you flinched at the memories which came with the sound and immediately dropped your hands as the shorter women nodded, quite pleased that still worked as alexia yelled another goodbye and finally made her way out.

~

“elena you are not taking me to my bedroom, i’m fine.” you huffed a couple days later, your sisters and mami both having been hovering relentlessly all week which was more than starting to grate on you, not even allowed to go and have some peace and quiet in your own room, banished to the sofa like a prisoner all day everyday where someone could have eyes on you at all times.

you knew your mami was perhaps getting the most from this, and though she would never admit it you could tell that after so long of her being the one who was being fussed over and watched like a hawk it was both a relief and a joy for that attention to be diverted elsewhere. 

a bonus that it so happened to be you, the one who was perhaps most guilty of fussing over her since she left hospital given you were the last of your sisters still living at home.

“let me just help you walk there, since you refuse to use the crutches.” elena rolled her eyes, nodding at the crutches in her hand which indeed you’d not touched, insistent that you could walk albeit with a small limp.

it had taken a lot of begging and pleading but with it being one of your friends birthdays you’d been invited out to dinner with them, eli eventually agreeing you could go so long as you promised to let her know when you were on your way back.

you’d done that, sending her a text message as you left the restaurant with elena, but when you hadn’t heard back and given it was nearly eleven thirty at night, you assumed she’d likely fallen asleep.

“because I do not need them, and I do not need help!” you huffed, elena giving up with a sigh and carefully placing your crutches just inside by the front door, hugging you goodbye with a teasing donkey noise, everyone having teased you were ‘stubborn as an ass’ all night as you bit back a smile and gave her a sarcastic wave goodbye.

closing the door after her you exhaled in relief as with your mami seemingly asleep and your sisters at their own homes you finally had a moment of peace to yourself without someone asking if you needed anything, fixing a cushion, getting more ice, checking the swelling.

but still, despite the peace nature called and with a sigh you started to hobble your way to the bathroom, the swelling having gone down but the ankle itself still quite tender despite the fact it could bare a lot more weight now. 

your eyes flickered momentarily toward the crutches sitting abandoned just an arms length away, knowing really you should use them as it would make this whole process a lot faster. however your friends weren’t wrong you were stubborn, and determined to prove even just to yourself that this was only a mild sprain and you were getting better you began an arduous journey toward the bathroom.

you were doing okay at first, grabbing onto things and allowing your body to lean on your dominant foot, able to get all the way to the bathroom all on your own, sitting down on the toilet with a relieved exhale.

but it was getting up that suddenly the situation drastically changed.

when you’d showered earlier you’d left your wet towel on the ground, nothing unusual as given it was only you and eli living here now and she had her own bathroom there was no one to complain about it.

however too focused on hobbling over to the sink you’d failed to notice, and if anything this whole week had just been one huge life lesson to learn to look down a little more often, and with a blink you felt yourself slip, head hitting the ground and back thumping against the tile floor.

but all you were focused on was the way you felt your ankle go snap, pain shooting up your leg as if it was on fire as you groaned loudly, trying to sit up but grunting and collapsing back to the ground.

“mami? mami? mami!” you tried to yell out through gritted teeth, calling out a few more times and groaning as the pain worsened and the room began to spin a little. feeling something digging into your hip you managed to pull your phone out with a hiss, yelling out again for eli but not hearing anything.

so knowing really there wasn’t anything else you could do you clicked on the contact for the one person you thought might answer if you called. 

your heartbeat sounding in your ears and vision a little blurred you hesitated, flashbacks of all the calls you’d made to her where she hadn’t answered, stomach churning with a mix of nausea, worry and rejection, questioning if maybe you were wrong and she wouldn’t answer, leaving you alone again.

but eventually the pain won out and you clicked call, sighing with a grimace as the dial tone sounded once, twice, three times, four times and- 

“hola? pequeña? estás bien?” “ale? por favour por favor i need help, hermana i need you!”

[randombush3]

the winner takes it all

alexia putellas x reader

summary: an unexpected invitation throws your world off-kilter

words: 6276

content warnings: it's a bit unfaithful

notes: in this universe real madrid is a proper opponent and rival to barcelona, in the sense that funding and history is relatively equal (so it's basically more like the men's rivalry)

idk where this came from tbh

Amb gran alegria, 

Alexia i Olga

T’invitem a celebrar la nostra unió matrimonial. 

10 d’agost de 2025

Gran Hotel Mas d’en Bruno

You haven’t read Catalan in years. You squint at the details. 

You wish you had forgotten it. 

Only Alexia would do this to you, twisting the knife as though it’s a favour, a compliment. Make it seem psychotic for not wanting to go, make it seem like it’s not a big deal. 

The invitation isn’t personalised. You are not special in her eyes. You have been allowed onto the guest list, you have no mark in her life. Surely Olga would have objected if she’d known, if she’d been told. Maybe Alexia doesn’t talk about it. Maybe she has heard your name on match reports and team sheets, announcements for captaincy, interviews with Las 16 who called you traidora then and call you traidora now. 

As if she knew it was coming, your phone begins to light up with messages from Alba. Apologies, perhaps, in her own Alba way. Stuff like ‘are you coming’ and ‘you don’t have to’ and then more buzzing, vibrating the shitstorm into a phone call. 

You don’t speak often. Why would you? But you answer it, listless, really, and unsure what the correct approach to this even is. 

“Hola, traidorita,” she says with a nervous giggle, reclaiming your nickname in Barcelona but reminding you of how you are perceived nevertheless. “I don’t know why you are on the guest list.” 

Alba is like this: straight to the point, unafraid of her sister and unafraid to tell you what she thinks. They are very different, which is why she is the only one who has your current number in her contacts. 

“You told her where I live,” you respond. Your shock makes no room for manners. “Because no one there has my Madrid address, Albi.” 

“No one here has it, yeah. But she asked around. Well, Olga did.” She laughs again. Her nervousness is high-pitched and easily detected. “Told Ale that she has to have her childhood best friend at her wedding.” 

“Childhood best friend?” 

“Estranged childhood best friend?” she tries, and you can hear the smile and the teasing fucking smugness in it. You wonder if anyone else knows you have been invited. Alba because your address was squeezed out of her, sure, but… “And my mother thought it was a good idea too, before you try to murder a woman you have never met.” 

“I’ve met Olga before,” you say without thinking, because that’s far easier to focus on than the idea of Eli getting involved in this completely undesired reunion that is about two centuries too early. “When I was going out with, eh, I don’t remember her name. A model. You know what they’re like. Olga’s the one who works for… thingie.” 

There’s a sigh from the other end. “So many models yet not one name has been retained. Do you even ask them?” 

“We’re not usually doing much talking.” 

“Zorra.”

“Coming from you…” You smirk at the thought of all the little secrets Alba’s had you keep, a tradition that started young and became increasingly frequent when you removed yourself from everyone else’s lives. It’s like a journal, only you judge her. “You’re doing a good job of distracting me until I agree to go.” 

She hesitates, then. You’re not an idiot and you know why she called. Alba is supportive but she has her own agenda most of the time, and no one else knows the exact time you get back from training aside from your fellow teammates. Even then, most are too intimidated to contact you in general, let alone to ask about being invited to Alexia Putellas’ fucking wedding. 

Alba is also very manipulative, a professional puppeteer. And she knows exactly what to say. “It’s been fifteen years. Are you going to let her win?” It’s an infuriating provocation but it hits its target with ease. 

…

The first step of preparing for this wedding takes place in the form of the Euros: you’re going to win it and be happy enough to ignore the impending doom hanging over your off-season plans. Going into the competition with heavy medals round your necks makes cockiness the slippiest of slopes, and it is safe to say that most of your teammates are prepared to cruise through at least the group stages. 

An unexpected injury rips Jenni’s opportunity to play from her grasp (an echo of her ex-girlfriend, you briefly think), and she is flying back to Mexico before the tournament begins. Montse is a captain down – of course only this kind of disaster could happen to her – and before Patri can even open her mouth to volunteer for the role, you are dragged into a leadership meeting.

You’ve worn the armband before, though it seared and burned and blistered until you threw it in Jorge’s face and demanded someone else absorb the hatred it brought. He went ballistic as you’d said it, you remember, his face going red in the soft glow of your hotel room the night before the World Cup final. He’d leaned forwards, fist clenched, knuckles white and wanting to choke the life out of you.

“You have no respect!” he’d roared, voice splitting like thunder against the thin walls of your hotel room. “Not for me, not for your country, not for anything!” His breath was coming out in sharp ragged gasps. He spat. You’d wiped it off your body. “I thought you had scraped all the Catalan out of you, but here it is!” he’d screamed, loud enough to be heard but so comfortable in his power that it did not seem to frighten him. “Selfish and arrogant. You should have made it Seventeen.” 

He’d left in his rage, slamming his door. 

You regretted smiling in pictures with him, shaking his hand, kissing his cheek. You regretted the press conferences and interviews, the shaky defence you had constructed, the words of faith and trust you had professed and tried to believe. It had changed you, just a little bit, that incident. Made you think about who you are, where you come from. Made you remember someone you’d tried to forget. 

But Irene and Alexia, staring at you with both contempt and confusion as you take a seat at the conference table, don’t know any of this. Why would they? To them, this is the traidora. 

“Y/n is going to take Jenni’s place as third captain,” says Montse firmly, if she even knows how to do that. Irene and Alexia share a glance. Their roles have been restored for this competition and they are not prepared for an intruder to take that from them, although Irene will later remind Alexia that it is not your fault Jenni got injured. “I trust you three will come up with a suitable management plan. If you need me, you know where to find me.” 

None of you really do know where she lurks, but she is walking off before you can clarify. 

“We already have a strategy.” And she says it in Catalan, looking falsely apologetic when she is kicked underneath the table. 

“Good job, Alexia,” you tell her, so nauseatingly saccharine that you almost think of the nearest route to a toilet. She’s surprised you’ve granted her a reply though, which is satisfying enough. About to spit out another remark to divide yourselves further, you shift in your chair, stretching out your legs underneath the table. 

It is then that her ring catches your eye.

It’s delicate, shiny. A neatly cut diamond set in platinum with slight details that tell you someone thought about Alexia when they had this made and got it all wrong. Or maybe this is what she likes now. It’s not what you’d have given her.

She sees your eyes fall to her fingers, watching carefully as your gaze heats the metal and makes it almost too hot for her to keep on. You don’t really want her to know that you’ve seen it but you’ve made it bleeding obvious and so the predicament spirals and Irene wants, desperately, to leave you two alone – she knows shouldn’t, she’s aware of the health and safety risk. 

There is something about the way Alexia clenches her jaw, posture stiffening as she allows herself one flicker from your face to the ring, that tells you she is bracing herself for a bullet. She always did have an uncanny ability to read you, however unwanted it was. 

You lean back in your chair, aware of how the bystander is holding her breath, and decide to swallow the words burning on your tongue. You’ve accepted her invitation, and bitter manners are still manners. “Congratulations,” you say, words clipped and brittle, each syllable more venomous than the last. 

The chair makes a screeching sound as you stand. Irene flinches but Alexia does not move. She refuses to watch as you walk out of the room. 

…

Three hours later, Alexia is off the phone with Olga and knocking on Irene’s door with an embarrassed suppression of urgency. Shoulders hunched and lips downturned, the sight is enough for her to be ushered inside with only the quiet flap of Irene’s arms to beckon her forwards. With this part of the training camp being not quite tunnel-vision yet, Irene’s room is littered with toys and toddler stuff. Usually Alexia would be looking at them in quiet excitement. Right now, she is not so sure. 

“Second thoughts?” Irene asks, and Alexia half-jumps backwards in shock, about to furiously shake her head and profess her love for Olga– “I think the plan is good. I don’t think we need to worry about Y/n in the centre, seeing how she’s been playing there this season.” 

It slowly dawns on Alexia that Irene has assumed this is pre-tournament nerves, and that she is being shown such a vulnerable side of her co-captain because, well, who else can be? No one wants to see their commander gulp at the sight of the battlefield. 

“She still favours her left,” Alexia gets out. “She might drift, leaving a big gap for you to cover.” 

“She’s got offers from PSG, Chelsea, and Washington Spirit. It’s in her interest not to drift.” 

“She’s good at drifting.” 

Irene doesn’t respond to that. 

“Since when did you wear your ring to training?” is what she chooses to say instead, asking the question with a healthy fear of getting her head bitten off, taking a small step backwards to put her at a safer distance. 

Alexia doesn’t reply immediately, her fingers grazing the ring as she thinks. The weight of it seems heavier now, almost suffocating in the sterile air of the hotel room, as though this is everything she’s been trying to avoid. Her heart thuds against her ribcage. It feels like everyone is starting to notice. 

“I didn’t think it was an issue.” Her voice is tight, defensive, but with a subtle, betraying crack. She pulls her hand back from the air, letting it fall to her side. “We hardly did much more than pass the ball today so I kept it on.” 

It’s a poor excuse. It comes off for the cameras, not the contact of the game. Irene knows that. But, to her credit, she doesn’t push. She just watches Alexia, eyes narrowed slightly in an unreadable expression. “I just thought you guys were keeping it a bit more… private.” 

Alexia turns her gaze to the floor, staring at the scattered toys and items around the room. The simplicity of it all, the domestic innocence, makes her feel even more tangled. She feels an urge to lie, to say that Olga asked her to, worried that you’d misinterpret its absence, but Olga doesn’t even know she has reason to lose sleep. She hasn’t found the courage to explain. She hasn’t felt the need to. 

And, really, the truth is right here, echoing between them. Irene would have pieced together the story, as many of Alexia’s teammates have, hearing drunken retellings on nights out from whoever has known the two of you the longest that time. Maybe Alba has spoken to her, revealing everything after a round of tequila shots, as she tends to do. There are a few suggestions the older woman could make to her teammate, wounds she could open and then nurse, but she doesn’t and so she waits. 

Until, finally, Alexia admits, “it’s complicated. She has caught me off-guard.” It could mean many things, but it is either your captaincy or the acceptance of her wedding invitation that has done Alexia in. She wonders whether this feeling of dread and uncertainty is the game – or the life waiting for her after she comes back from Switzerland. “Look,” she says abruptly, “I’m not here for advice, Irene.”

“Then why are you in my room?” She doesn’t have an answer for that. Irene sweeps her outside, gently but firmly. “I’m not going to tell you what to do,” she treads lightly, “but when was the last time you had a conversation with her?” 

…

The training pitch in Switzerland is unseasonably hot, the kind of heat that clings to the air and makes tempers run shorter than usual. It’s almost a cure to homesickness but then the team look at each other and are back to hating every minute of this. There’s an undeniable divide. Montse either does not care or has not caught on. 

It’s about your twentieth rondo this session, the ball zipping across the wilting grass as it touches Barça foot to Barça foot, the girls obviously enjoying this. You’re only holding back because too much investment will lead to another injury, and you are getting somewhat tired of being called a traitor. The players surround you with a ruthless efficiency that is starting to fray your nerves, and you make a note to talk to your coach about training, knowing that it will be easy to manipulate her into following something akin to what the girls at Madrid are more accustomed to. 

Alexia is one of your taunters. Of course she is. 

“Just three more interceptions,” she calls out, false strain, false support, false encouragement. 

You bite back a retort, instead standing still as Aitana rolls a ball right past you. You wipe the sweat from your brow, feigning exhaustion, but the pretense is only that in name. Everyone knows you are one of the best defenders, the Barça girls especially, with their insane pride for La Masia. 

“Lazy,” Alexia mutters. 

You don’t respond, focusing instead on the fire in your chest as you forcibly break the circle and march towards Montse. She looks up from her clipboard as you approach. 

“We should split training.” She pauses and then nods. “Attack and defence, at least. And don’t let the press hear this, but, my god, Montse, I do not like how they’re all back.” 

“We’re a stronger team,” she says, but she’s smiling and you are definitely her favourite. Another deep breath and she is calling a water break. 

The girls retreat to the sidelines for ice and hydration, and you reunite with the people you like. Your club teammates prefer you at national camp, because there is something less reclusive about you. It’s as though you’re trying to prove that you get on. 

Olga hands you a water bottle, the contents of which you guzzle down in one go. She begins to comment on the absurdity of Alexia’s mandated rondos (“why do they have to keep reminding themselves how to pass a ball?”) and while you agree, your attention is diverted. Alexia is standing a few meters away with Mariona Caldentey. She’s listening to something the forward is telling her, face focused, finger twisting her ring around in circles. 

That fucking ring. 

You look away before you are caught in such a compromising position, wiping your forehead with your damp training shirt. 

“Oye,” Misa’s voice pulls you back, “are you paying attention?” You’re not even sure when she joined the conversation. Your relationship with the goalkeeper has always been overly complicated. You work very closely, what with you commanding the backline and her… also commanding the backline. But she’s friends with people who must have at least once wished you dead, so it’s hard to tell where you stand. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” you lie, screwing the cap back onto the water bottle and placing it in Olga’s held-out palm. 

“You’re never this spacey. You’ve been off since the meeting,” she presses, her voice gentle but insistent. “If this is about the captaincy–” 

“It’s not,” you snap, harsher than what was meant. Her eyes widen slightly and you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Sorry. It’s not about that. I’m fine.” 

Misa doesn’t look convinced but she nods, letting it drop. Gratitude relaxes your shoulders but the uneasy silence that follows is punishing enough for you to be eager for training to resume. 

Now that the rondos have been left behind until tomorrow, you divide into teams for a scrimmage. The squad is split into four and you throw yourself into the exercise. Every touch, every pass, every run is perfect, and you are unrecognisable from your lackadaisical lull only ten minutes ago. You’re pushing your body and it flicks onto autopilot, driven by muscle memory and determination. 

Your head’s not in it. You can’t outrun her shadow. You can’t think when your teams are against each other. 

The ring must have come off now, and she is getting stuck in. She’s relentless and irritating, evading your teammates’ tackles and drawing you into her. It’s almost transportative: back you go to gardens after school or being barefoot on the beach, forced out of your relaxation and into an endless game of ‘tackle me like you mean it’. She has that same glint in her eye, that same goading gleam. You consider it, but crutches at a wedding is a low blow. 

And so you lay off. Just on her, and only just enough so that she knows you are not trying. You do not care for petty squabbles. You are not willing to go back to those memories, to that time. 

Or at least, that’s the message you hope she gets. 

The games slowly wind down, prompted by Montse’s whistle to signal the end of the session. You stay on the pitch longer than anyone else, taking you time to collect the stray balls scattered across the grass. It’s partly an excuse to delay walking into the locker room, where the tension will be thick (you were not the right choice for third captain in the eyes of your teammates), and partly because you need a moment to breathe. 

The others slowly disperse, peeling off to the showers or collapsing onto benches. Alexia lingers longer than most, wiping away her sweat with her shirt, abs exposed and tensed. She watches you as you move across the pitch, and though her gaze is subtle, you can feel it blazing hotter than the sun lashing down on you. But, despite her staring, she too is eventually coaxed away. You’re unsure whether she is thankful for the interruption. 

When you finally make your way to the changing rooms, most of your teammates are in the showers, and the sound of running water mingled with laughter echoes. You take a seat at the locker you were assigned and let out a slow breath, peeling off sweat-soaked socks with mild disgust. You turn to fling them into your laundry bag, but their flight path is blocked by a blonde who has clearly delayed her own shower to talk to you. 

She’s looking oddly pensive. You don’t like it. 

“We need to talk.” It’s uncomfortable for Alexia to say and it’s worse for you to hear. You’re not sure you’re okay with her decision to become reasonable and mature. It’s quite the compliment to always be the cause for stoic, rational Alexia Putellas going absolutely batshit crazy. 

Driving her up the wall is fun. 

“I’ll send you an invitation. No need to tell me which room is yours.” You give her a smile. And, like you always do, you walk away. 

…

There’s a charge to the air that is choking you by dinner time. The upgrade to captain allowed for your own room, and it is easy to blow off teammates who want to have plans with you with the simple excuse of needing to talk to your agent. You technically do, since you are going to leave Madrid during the transfer window, but you have no intention of dialling his number until he confirms the best and furthest team wants you. 

You’ve spent the evening avoiding the majority of the players, which Montse took advantage of, encouraging you to spend dinner discussing tactics with her and her staff. You feel like the teacher’s pet. You know how angry it is making Alexia.

Collapsing on the bed when you back into your room, you let out a loud groan, sinking into the mattress. Your phone buzzes on the bedside table and for a moment, you think it might be Alba, allowing you no peace and quiet despite her distance. Instead, it’s a message on the team group chat from the strength and conditioning coach about tomorrow’s gym session. A wave of relief washes over you; anything but her. 

Still, as you scroll, you catch yourself lingering on the names in the group chat, your thumb hovering near Alexia’s. Your stomach tightens and the memory of her tone, her expression, pulls at you like a tether. 

She’s not going to drop this. 

It’s no longer a matter of avoidance in the camp. You’ve said you will be present. She must want to ensure you will not make a scene. 

A knock at the door, so quiet you are almost convinced it was imagined, breaks you out of your brooding. Your eyes watch the wood as though it will be splintered in a moment, but when you make no move to get up, a more insistent knock sounds. You sigh as you pull yourself off your bed, dragging your feet towards the door. Opening it, you find Alexia standing there, arms crossed and wearing an expression you can’t quite decipher. It lacks her usual burning hatred. She looks exhausted. 

You struggle to feel any sympathy. 

“What?” you snap. It’s a bit harsher than intended but you don’t let on that that’s the case. 

“Can I come in?” You guess that she didn’t pick up the hint when you gave her no invitation. You do not want to talk. You don’t do that to people much anymore. 

She expects the door to slam in her face – and you consider it – but it’s your hesitation that tells her she can, and so she slowly moves inside, shoulder brushing yours because you refuse to move out of the way. And then she raises a deliberate hand towards the door, pushing it shut. You ignore the ring. 

You lean against the door once it’s shut, arms folded as she wanders further into your room. She looks out of place somewhere so personal to you, standing awkwardly in the centre and trying not to look at the explosion of clothes and books that has been detonated on the floor. 

She reads the titles of a few – classics that look dense and boring. Something hungry inside her dulls a bit, because you have not changed in this respect. 

“You’re quiet for someone who wants to talk,” you prompt, mostly because the silence is unbearable. 

She doesn’t respond immediately. Her arms drop to her sides, fingers twitching as if unsure what to do with themselves. She tries to meet your eyes, but falters when she sees the cold indifference staring back. You’re looking at her like she’s a stranger. It stings more than it should.

“I didn’t invite you to the wedding,” she says finally. “Olga doesn’t know about us.” 

“There’s no ‘us’,” you snap, sharper this time.

Her jaw tightens and for a second, she looks as though she’s been struck. “Don’t lie.” 

“There is no ‘us’,” you repeat, your tone icy now. “That disappeared the minute I–” 

“Left,” comes her interruption, her voice trembling just enough for you to notice. She steps closer, her shadow crossing yours, and her eyes narrow. “Which was your decision, not mine.”

You scoff, a bitter laugh escaping you. “Don’t act like you didn’t have a say in it.” 

“I didn’t!” she fires back, her voice rising. There is something raw beneath it – something fractured. “You didn’t give me one. You walked out, and you shut me out like I was nothing. Like we were nothing.” 

Her words hang in the air and for a moment, you don’t know whether to shoot or turn away. But her gaze pins you in place, fierce and unrelenting, as though daring you to deny it. 

You hold her stare, your throat tightening. “And you didn’t try to stop me.” 

The silence that follows feels deafening. Neither of you moves. Neither of you blinks. You’re both standing on landmines and have nowhere to go. 

Her jaw clenches, her hands balling into fists at her sides. Her voice, though low, crackles with the heat of restrained anger. 

“You didn’t give me a chance to stop you.” And she steps closer, ready to bite. The door presses against your back as you instinctively move away. “You made up your mind before I even knew what was happening.” 

“Don’t pretend you didn’t see it coming.” You shake your head. “I didn’t just wake up one day and decide to leave, Alexia.”

Her expression darkens, something in her eyes flickering dangerously. “That’s not the point. You didn’t just leave the club. You didn’t just leave me. You left everything. Our family. Our life. Do you have any idea what that felt like? Watching you walk away as if none of it mattered?” 

Your chest tightens but you refuse to let her words land. “You don’t get to make me the villain here.” 

“I don’t have to,” she snaps, her voice rising now, accent thickening with her anger. “You were part of my family, part of me. You were at every Christmas, every birthday. My mother adored you. Alba still loves you like you are her own sister! And you just disappeared like none of it meant anything. Like we didn’t mean anything.”

You flinch at the weight of her words but force yourself into steadiness. “I didn’t belong there. It wasn’t mine, it was yours.” 

Her face twists in disbelief, voice trembling as it rises again. “That’s bullshit and you know it! You were my family. My first everything. My first kiss. My first…” She pauses, her voice cracking. You swallow hard – you don’t want the fucking itemised list. “My first time. You think I just gave that to anyone? You think that it was just fun and games?” 

Your stomach churns as she stokes a fire you’ve tried to smother for years. “It wasn’t nothing,” you agree, although it sounds like you are contradicting her in a way that causes her to falter on her drive forwards. “It was everything. That’s why I left. Because I couldn’t be what was needed anymore. Because I knew if I stayed, I’d only–” 

“Only what?” 

You gulp. 

She’s back in your face, voice laced with venom. “Hurt me? Ruin me? Let us all done? Guess what, you did that anyway. Leaving made it easier? Made it hurt less?” 

“I didn’t know what else to do!” you shout, voice splitting. 

“You stay!” It echoes and it bruises your skin. Her eyes are blazing now, tears threatening to spill but held back by sheer force of will. “You stay, because that is what you do when you love someone. When you love a family. You don’t just walk away from them. You fight.” 

You open your mouth to respond, but the words stick in your throat, caught somewhere between guilt and pride. She sees it and it only seems to enrage her further. 

Her voice drops, anger so torrid she has to purposely cool her tone. “You know, I thought that my world was ending then. I thought you’d done your worst. But I was wrong. Because your betrayal wasn’t just personal, it was… political. To not see someone you love except for when they are sitting at the feet of this. Corruption’s pet. Pandering to an organisation you hated, while the rest of us fought for scraps.” 

Heat rises in your chest. How dare she– “I don’t pander to anyone.” 

“Don’t lie to me,” she spits. She’s too close. She’s too inescapable. And her anger is no longer fiery but icy, piercing through your skin. “I’ve seen the way you act around them, bowing your head and playing the loyal soldier while they tear us apart. You think I didn’t notice how he favoured you? Or how Montse magically replaces an irreplaceable member of–” 

“It’s not like that,” you counter, but the words feel hollow even to you.

“Then what is it?” she demands. “What is it that makes you stand there and let them walk all over us? Let them divide us? And don’t you dare say it is for the good of the team. The team hates you for it. We all do. You’ve earned every bit of it, traidora.” 

The word hits you like a whip, lacerating and making you bleed. Your hands curl into fists so tightly your nails dig into your palms, the sting barely enough to contain the fury surging through you. “Don’t you dare call me that!” The sentence tears out of your throat, rough and jagged. You take a step forwards, the air between you crackling with tension, your voice breaking as you spit, “you don’t get to say that to me. Not you.”

“Why not?” she challenges. “It’s what you are. You left, you betrayed everything we stood for, and then you came back just to make things worse. You made your choices.”

For a moment, all you can do is stare at her, the anger and heartbreak in her eyes, eviscerating and leaving you hollow. But then, something shifts in the air between you, and you find your voice again, souring from before.

“Is that why you’re here, Alexia? To throw all of this in my face? To let out fifteen years of harboured emotion? Or is it something else?” 

Her brow furrows in confusion. Surprise. And then her expression twists into anger. “What the fuck are you talking about?” 

You take a step forward now, and she is forced to retreat. “Do you not want to marry Olga, Alexia? Is that it? Is that why you’re here? Because you think you can come into my room, dredge all of this up, and make me the reason you’re unhappy?” 

Her face pales as she takes a deep breath, hands trembling at her sides. “Don’t,” she warns, firmly enough to signal you need to push.

So you do. 

“You came here because you’re scared.” She shakes her head but it’s rigid and forced. “Because you’re not sure you can go through with it and you want me to give you a reason to back out. Well, I’m not going to do that for you. This isn’t my mess. It’s yours.”

She says nothing and you feel sick. Her chest rises and falls with each gasping breath. She opens her mouth but again, you are left with silence, and the expression in her eyes flickers between defiance, confusion, and vulnerability. For a long moment, it feels like everything that could be said has been. 

The air between you is charged, but neither of you know which way it will go. 

You stare at her watching her waver. And it hits you: she doesn’t know what to do. 

All of this, all the anger and the pain, all the accusations and betrayals, has led her here, to this moment. She thought she had an answer, she thought she would be able to end this, but now? Now, Alexia is lost. There is too much here, too much to lose. And for the first time in a long while, you are feeling the same thing. You are both no longer sure if you want to fight. 

She takes a hesitant step closer and you freeze. But then, just as quickly, her hand moves – not to strike, not to harm, but to touch you. Her fingers brush lightly over the fabric of your sleeve, almost tenderly, before they fall away, and you don’t know if the motion was meant for comfort or something else.

Her breath is ragged, coming in slow, uneven gasps. Her eyes never leave yours. You don’t want them to. 

“I don’t know what to do with all of this,” she murmurs, the rawness in her tone shattering any remaining wall between you. “I don’t know what to do with you.”

How do you respond to that? You want her to leave but the thought is unbearable. You want space but she is not close enough. Something inside you stirs, something you can’t fight; a need to understand her and make her understand you. To make her see how tangled this, how impossible it has always been. 

Before you can form the word, before you can even think, she moves in closer, and there is no longer distance. She doesn’t ask for permission. She doesn’t hesitate. And then, without warning, her lips are on yours. 

It’s soft, tentative at first, as though testing the waters of something neither of you is sure of anymore. But then it shifts. Her body leans into yours, and the kiss deepens, more urgent now, as if this is everything that has not been said and has been at the same time. Your heart races, a million conflicting emotions crashing through you. Anger, betrayal, love – it is all here, you can taste it on her lips. It’s fierce, desperate, and it feels like an endless cycle of need and regret, pulling you both back to something raw, something irretrievable. 

Her hands find your waist, gripping tightly as though anchoring herself to something that could pull her under. You instinctively respond, pulling her closer, drawing in the heat of her touch, the scent of her skin, the pressure of her body against yours. For a fleeting second, everything else fades away. There’s no past, no future, only here and now. 

And then the fog clears. 

You pull back, breathless and worse off. You’ve fucked up again. Alexia is crying. 

“I’m not the person you think I am anymore,” you say, but it’s hard to meet her gaze. “I can’t be that person for you.”

Her eyes search yours desperately for lies, for deceit. She wants it to be wrong. She doesn’t know why. And she replies, “I don’t care what you think you’ve become,” because she doesn’t. It doesn’t matter to her.

You stare at her, heart pounding, and you want to feel like this will be worth it, but nothing comes except cold emptiness. You force yourself to stay upright. “I think the wedding will be good.” She swallows. “You’ll be happy with Olga. I’m sure of it.” 

It’s a death sentence. 

This time, it is Alexia who leaves. 

…

The wedding is beautiful. Blissful sunlight makes the venue seem to glow and it is hard not to be impressed with how they have set this up. 

The model at your side is also beautiful, but you remind yourself it is not a competition. You focus on the whispers of anticipation from the guests, the rustle of the dresses as people pass in merry groups, clinking their glasses and finishing their champagne as they take their seats. Everything looks perfect, plucked from magazines and tasteful brochures. This must be what Alexia wanted. 

Your date is occupying herself in conversation with the man seated next to you, who might be hitting on her, though you don’t care. She slides a hand over your thigh anyway. 

The ceremony begins, although you’re not really concentrating on it. You try to focus, listening as the officiant speaks, but the words have become a dull hum. It’s all so rehearsed, so expected, and it’s boring. You won’t be getting married anytime soon, that’s for sure. 

You know the flow of these things: the vows, the promises, the kiss, and the crowd’s applause. It’s a performance, though it’s not quite a farce. 

And then, it comes. The moment. The one that feels like a trap. 

The officiant pauses, glancing out over the gathering. “Si algú s'hi oposa, que parli ara o calli per sempre.”

For a heartbeat, time slows. The air thickens. Every muscle in your body tenses and the world around you goes still. You catch yourself holding your breath, gaze instinctively shifting to the woman standing at the front of the altar. 

Alexia. 

Her eyes flicker briefly in your direction – just a flicker, but it’s there, unmistakable. It’s her moment of hesitation, well masked but clear as day to you. But before you can make sense of it, she’s looking away, eyes fixed back onto Olga. Her expression hardens, more composed now, and you know that you are not going to break this silence. 

The officiant, oblivious to the storm passing between you both, waits for a beat longer before continuing, his voice echoing in the silence. 

And she’s married. 

You breathe out a sigh of relief. It’s over now. You’ve let her win. 

[mead-iocre]

La Castanyada | Alexia Putellas x Reader

synopsis: alexia invites you to meet her extended family

warnings: it's a longgggg one

wc: 7.2k words

The late autumn sunlight filters through the mildly tinted windows, casting shadows that danced across your face. You welcome it, deciding to savour whatever little warmth is left before the arrival of the cold in the upcoming months. The only sound coming from inside the car was the mild buzz of the engine, and the low hum of Alexia’s favourite radio station reporting the latest sports news. The car smells of herbarium berries thanks to the overpriced car perfume you purchased a few months ago. Cool notes of fresh-picked blackcurrant berries mingle with flowery rose accents prick your nose. You mentally remind yourself to buy another car diffuser, but maybe not one tagged with a fancy label like this one. 

You gaze out the window to a serene scene of fallen leaves and autumnal charm. You had never been so far away from the city before. The journey was worth it though, full of new sights and sounds; with patchwork of amber and rust-coloured trees, charming villages, and vineyards against backdrops of evergreen pines. As you drive further, you past towns surrounded by vibrant landscape of rolling hills and dense forest. Living in the city for so long made you realise just how you missed being around the natural wonders of the world. The car stops at a red light and you glance over at the rusted cobbled pavement, watching as a gust of wind sends a pile of leaves to swirl and dance in the air.

The realisation that you were nearing your destination made your palms sweat and your heart race. Alexia was taking you to meet the rest of her clan. Today, you will officially be meeting her extended family. Alexia’s grandparents had invited everyone to stay at their estate, a home that Alexia had told you countless of stories about. Stories of mornings that start with churros on the breakfast table; Sunday lunches on a long oak table, beautifully set with fine china and crystal glasses; and playing hide and seek with her cousins around the family vineyard until the sun set. 

A warm palm clasping your knee startles you out of your daydreams. When you turn your head, warm hazel eyes meet yours. “Cómo te sientes? You okay, amor?”

You hum, nodding your head, placing your hand above hers. She slows down as the car approaches traffic, using the opportunity to focus her attention back to you. You watch the way her eyes study your face, probably looking for any sign that you might be holding back from saying what you were really feeling. She entwines your fingers together before tugging it towards her lips to place a kiss on the back of your hand. 

“Are you…ansioso?-- nervous?” She asks, focusing her attention back on the road now that the stoplight has turned green. She keeps one hand on the steering wheel, her other hand entwined with your own. 

“Maybe a little bit” You admit. You had met Alexia’s mother and her younger sister, Alba before and that went well. In fact, it went so well it turned into regular visits from her mother and weekly brunches with her sister. But this time it was different, not only was Alexia's mother and sister not due to arrive until tomorrow, you were going to be meeting her grandparents. She spoke so highly about them all the time. Her voice would soften and her eyes would glimmer every time she recalled stories about her childhood growing up in her grandparent’s home. If they didn’t like you, you fear Alexia might just leave you.

“Meeting your whole family, it’s a lot. What if they don't like me?”

Alexia shot you an incredulous look, as if the mere thought was unfathomable. “Impossible.” She proclaimed, so confident, so assured. “They’re going to love you. Besides, mi abuela has already seen your picture a hundred times. She thinks you're ‘muy guapa’.”

Your cheeks flushed. “Yeah, but a picture is different from meeting in person.”

She lifted your entwined hands, giving the back of your hand another kiss. “Mi amor, pictures do not do you justice. They’re not expecting perfection. Just be yourself. They are not scary, I promise.”

That helped, slightly. You sighed, looking out the window as the olive trees and vineyards passed by. “I just hope my Spanish doesn’t embarrass me…”

“Your Spanish is great!” Alexia exclaimed, squeezing your hand. Along with weekly Spanish online classes with a tutor, you encouraged Alexia to speak to you in spanish regularly so you can pick up the language quicker. “But if you want to speak English, that is fine too. I will help you. No te preocupes”

You wrap your other hand around her arm, picking at the soft cashmere coat she was wearing with your fingers. You had bought her this coat, convinced she would look really good in it as soon as you saw it in the store. You were right.

"What if I mess it up?"

“You cannot ‘mess it up’” The last bit was said accompanied by finger quotations. She briefly detangles her fingers from yours to make finger quotes in the air, before promptly entwining them again. Alexia’s voice was soft, but full of conviction. Her hazel eyes were earnest, almost pleading with you to trust her word. “Just be yourself. You will be fine.”

You wanted to believe her. You really did. But the nerves didn’t go away. Instead, they settled deeper, twisting into a tight ball in your stomach. You had never met your partner’s family before, not like this. This wasn’t just dinner with their parents. This was Alexia’s whole extended family, in a different country, in a language that you weren't fluent in.

Looking out of the window, you tried to focus on anything but your growing anxiety. You caught a glimpse of an older couple seated outside a cafe, a group of children chasing a ball down the narrow street and a man leaning against his bicycle, deep in conversation with a shopkeeper outside of a flower store. The scene was peaceful, unhurried, like time itself had slowed down for everyone else but you. 

“I’m just… worried,” You finally admitted, your voice small and slightly shaky. You hated feeling this way, not being in control, not knowing what could happen next. “I don’t want to let you down.”

All of a sudden, Alexia swerved and pulled the car to a stop by a street lined with rows of charming little shops. She turned fully to face you, her eyes soft and understanding. “Amor, look at me.”

Rather reluctantly, you met her gaze.

“You could never let me down. Eres mi todo and my family knows, ” Alexia's words were steady, filled with the kind of reassurance that you desperately needed. “And if anyone has a problem with that, they will have to fight me.”

You chuckled weakly, the tension in her chest loosening just a little. “I hope you’re right.”

“I am.” She smiled, reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “Te quiero mucho. And that’s all that matters.”

Her eyes scan your face, probably sensing your lingering doubts. She cups your face, her palm warm against your cheek. She brings your face closer to hers. “Eres perfecta,” 

Pretty hazel eyes meet yours, all love and affection. She leans in to kiss you, her lips soft and plump against yours. Pulling away slightly, just a breath of distance between the two of you, before she murmurs. Her voice low and hushed , “You know what that means, Si?”

You hum, your eyes fluttering closed, still partly consumed by her kiss. Of course you knew what that phrase means, it was one of the first Spanish phrases she ever translated for you. You tilt your head towards her, leaning into her space, greedy for another kiss.

“Mmhmm. Perfect.” She mumbles in english, her tone is teasing, enunciating the word with perfect pronunciation. Although it is slightly jumbled by your lips being pressed against hers again. She smiles against your lips, no doubt feeling your desperation. Your yearning.

Her hand tilts your face to the side, fingers pressingly lightly against your neck, urging you to succumb to her lead completely. Like all she wants you to do is just close your eyes, kiss her back, and she will handle the rest.

Eventually she starts to pull away, but not before she leaves a teasing bite to your bottom lip, a cocky smile perched on her lips at the sight of the dazed look on your face. You open your eyes half heartedly, your gaze immediately zeroing in on her plump bottom lip still wet from your kiss. “Later” She promises.

And Alexia always keeps her promises. 

She tucks your hair behind your ear and squeezes your knee as she leans back into her seat. Both of her hands back on the wheel. “Vale. We’ve still have some driving to do.” 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The countryside was a picturesque scene of rolling hills, vineyards that span miles and miles, and tall, slender cypress trees. The leaves had begun their slow descent, carpeting the roads and pavements in hues of amber, crimson, and goldenrod, creating a soft crunch beneath the tires. The scent of earth and woodsmoke wafts in through the slightly cracked window. You noticed it earlier, but it’s a lot stronger now. As the car navigates the winding roads, you catch glimpses of traditional stone houses, with their windows framed with charming flower pots that still hold the last few blooms of summer. 

As you wound deeper into the heart of Catalonia, the landscape became more secluded. The occasional farmhouse dotted the hillsides, their red-tiled roofs peeking through the autumn foliage, and their silhouettes softened by the setting sun.

And then, as the car rounded the final bend, the mediaeval town of Peratallada came into view. Peratallada with its ancient stone walls and narrow cobblestone streets. The town was full of charm, its streets flanked by ivy-clad beige and gold stone, the weathered facades only adding to it's history.

Eventually, Alexia slowed the car down, allowing you to take in the new surroundings. You take out your phone, snapping a few pictures of the pretty sights. The cobblestone streets were narrow, twisting through archways and past old stone fountains. Vines clung to the walls, leaves now tinged with the colours of autumn, while small terracotta pots with trailing ivy and late-blooming flowers adorned the windowsills of homeowners. Every corner and alley seemed to hold a secret passage—a hidden courtyard, a glimpse of a garden, and even a cosy café where a few villagers sat outside, sipping wine and chatting quietly.

The smell of roasting chestnuts filled the air, carried by the breeze from vendors setting up stalls in the main square for the evening’s festivities. The town was quiet, peaceful, but you can see preparations are being made for the upcoming La Castanyada festival.

As you leave the narrow streets behind, the road opens up, leading you deeper into the countryside. The car continues to meander through the occasional quaint shop-fronts and cobblestone paths until the road begins to slope upward. You sit straighter in your seat.

The soft crunch of gravel under the tires announced your approach to Alexia's family estate, hidden behind tall stone walls and ancient oaks. Gradually, the estate came into view, as the road curved around a hillside, revealing tall gates surrounding the property. You had never seen anything like it. 

Your eyebrows rose in surprise as the large dark, wooden gates swung open automatically just as the car pulled up. The car drives through and you spot what looks to be some sort of wooden sign announcing the estate's name, beautifully carved in dark wood. It was like Disneyland.

You knew Alexia came from a well off family, but you were definitely not expecting a family-that-has-a-fancy-sign-outside-of-their-gated-estate kind of rich.

Alexia turns to you, biting her bottom lip. Her eyes were bright with excitement, she was practically buzzing in her seat. This was the most excited and awake you have seen her in the last hour of the drive.

She points to your window. “This is my family's vineyard”

You lean forward and sure enough there was a vineyard. The estate was perched high on a hill, offering a panormaic view of the property. The vineyard itself looked like something out of a painting, the grapevines, heavy with the last of the season’s fruit, stood in neat rows, aligned against the backdrop of rolling hills. Beyond the vineyards, the estate was flanked by tall trees offering privacy from the rest of the world.

“Wow, this place is beautiful,” You were in complete awe at the scenery.

Alexia's cheeks flushed with warmth. She quickly removed her green cap, brushing out her hair. “My grandparents have lived here for years."

The car continued to drive on. Soon enough an impressive structure came into view. The house--mansion(?) itself was breathtaking— a lavish stone manor with its ivy-covered walls, grand arched windows, and terracotta roofs. Even though Alexia had prepared you for her grandparents’ “big house”, nothing compared to the real thing.

“We’re here,” Alexia said softly, pulling the car to a stop at the front of the estate. She shut off the engine and unbuckled her seatbelt. She then turned to you and did the same, unbuckling your seatbelt for you out of habit.

As you both stepped out of the car, the cool autumn air enveloped you completely, crisp but not biting. You just stared for a moment, your breath catching as you took it all in. The courtyard was paved with smooth stones, lined with tall, iron lanterns leading towards the grand entrance of the house. The doors, massive and intricately carved, stood closed. Almost intimidatingly.

“This is your grandparents' place?” You asked, still in awe. Who did you know had multiple 2ft tall cast stone vases lined up by the entrance of their homes. No one-- at least until now.

“It’s home.” She took your hand, guiding you toward the entrance.

You felt a flutter of nerves in your belly. You had been excited about the trip initially, but now that they were here, the reality of it all weighed on her.

Would they like you? Would they understand your broken Spanish?

Before Alexia could reach for the doorbell, one of the doors opened.

Alexia’s grandmother, Abuela Carmen, was the first to greet you at the door, her face lighting up with a warm smile. Her silver hair was pulled into a loose bun, and her dark eyes twinkled as she wrapped her granddaughter in a tight embrace before turning to you.

“And you must be Alexia's girl,” she said in English, her accent thick yet soft. She took your hands in hers, giving them a gentle squeeze. You introduced yourself and she repeated your name back to you with such fondness, as if she had known you your whole life. “Welcome to our home.”

“Thank you. Gracias" You replied, your nerves easing as Alexia's grandmother pulled you in for a hug. Alexia was about to say something about the luggage in the trunk, but her grandmother just flapped her hands away dismissively, instead ushering you both further inside her home.

The house was as grand inside as it was outside. The foyer welcomed you inside, its walls lined with decor and tall paintings. Towards the end of the foyer you could see an expansive living room that you swear is bigger than your entire apartment. A large fireplace dominated the room, its flames reflecting against dark wood beams. Terracotta tiles stretched across the floor, complemented nicely by the intricately patterned rugs.

The walls were painted in soft, creamy tones, adorned with vibrant mosaic tiles. Large arched windows lined the walls, with the wooden shutters thrown open to let in the last rays of the setting sun, bathing the room in a golden glow. The windows framed picturesque views of the vineyard and rolling hills beyond. You were still in awe.

Exposed wooden beams crisscrossed the high ceilings, while wrought-iron chandeliers hung gracefully, the warm light casting shadows across the room. Plush sofas and armchairs upholstered in rich fabrics, blend with the dark wooden tables and cabinets. The sofas were lightly dented and the rugs weren't perfectly brushed out. You could tell that each piece in this room was meticulously chosen with the purpose of making this house a home.

"Show our guest around the sala, Alexia. Then come to the kitchen for some merienda after" Abuela Carmela practically orders her granddaughter. With you, she just sends you a quick wink before nudging the both of you away as she saunters over to where you assume the kitchen is. It’s hard to tell with a house as big as this. 

Alexia leads you through the main hall, where a large stone fireplace crackled with a burning fire. Above the mantel, an intricately carved wooden mantelpiece held an array of family photos, a reflection of the generations that had lived and loved in this house.

“We gather in this house every year,” Alexia said, her voice filled with affection. "It's my favourite time of year. It's the only time I get to see all of my family in one place".

Alexia waves you over, closer. You stand on your tiptoes as she points out herself and her sister in the photos, whispering stories of her childhood for every single one. The smile that lights up her face as she tells her stories is infectious, like she was experiencing every happy memory all over again. Stories of bike rides around the town, muddy boots around the vineyard, and summers spent sunbathing at Poseidon Calella beach.

She leads you into the next room, your hand in hers the entire time. The dining room was an expansive room with a long, polished wooden table perfectly set for the occasion. 

"Wow. This is the fanciest table setting I have ever seen..." The table was adorned with what looked like hand-painted ceramic plates and bowls, surrounded by intricate silver cutlery and crystal glasses that sparkled in the candlelight. The centrepiece was a beautiful arrangement of autumn leaves, chestnuts, and candles.

"Oh no, this is not where we will be eating," Alexia tugs your hand, leading you around the fancy dinner table and towards a set of French glass doors framed by lush cerulean curtains. She points outside.

"There is where we will be eating"

An expansive terrace has been transformed into a breathtaking outdoor dining space. Under the pergola draped with twinkling lights, a long wooden table stood as the focal point of the evening’s festivities. From where you were standing, you could see hints of colourful glassware, candles, ornate table centrepieces, and neatly folded napkins.

You turn to face Alexia, playfully mouthing a "holy shit" -- one of the first English phrases she picked up quickly-- to which she just rolls her eyes at you. But you can see the corner of her mouth tugging upwards.

"Vale. Let's go to the kitchen. My abuela is probably waiting"

As Alexia led you into the kitchen, you marvelled at the sights before you. The kitchen was any chef’s dream. The floor was laid with terracotta tiles which were noticeably worn smooth by generations of footsteps. You could tell the family spent a lot of time inside this part of their home.

Stone countertops, big windows, wooden cabinets, and a large farmhouse sink. Stainless steel pots and pans hung from a wrought-iron rack above the island, and the glass cabinets were filled with an array of colourful ceramics. Alexia’s stories of how her grandma would cook her infamous Gazpacho whenever she was sick filled your head at the sight of a large, stone fireplace by the corner. 

There was a smaller table, placed near the fireplace, looking to be made from reclaimed barn wood. It was surrounded by mismatched chairs, their cushions upholstered in colourful, patterned fabrics. The table was set with a simpler table setting compared to the one in the dining room and the terrace. You could imagine the family using this smaller table whenever they are rushing in the morning and only need to stop for a quick breakfast before school or work.

Alexia's grandmother was busy at the stove, stirring a pot of something that smelled divine. She greeted you both with a warm smile. “Ah, there you are! Just in time to help,” she said, clapping her hands.

Alexia's grandfather, Abuelo Miguel, appeared carrying a tray piled high with steaming chestnuts. His face, weathered with age, split into a grin as he saw Alexia. “Ah, mi nieta,” he said, his deep voice warm with affection. He set the tray down before giving Alexia a big hug. The kind of hug only a beloved grandfather can give.

Then, turning to you, he gave you a welcoming nod and extended his hand. “And you must be the woman we have all heard so much about.”

Taking his welcome, you smiled back– albeit a bit awkwardly, but the wrinkles around his eyes as he smiled at you put your nerves at ease.

"Vale. Keep doing what you were doing" He gestured playfully to the controlled mess around the kitchen, making you all laugh. There were dishes and casseroles everywhere, stuff cooking on the stove and oven. No counter space was left unused. 

“Chestnuts are always the centrepiece,” Alexia whispered to you, pointing about the growing pile on the kitchen island. “Traditions say they were eaten back in the day to keep warm during the colder months. These days, we eat them to remember the souls of the departed.”

You watched as Alexia's grandparents moved with an easy grace, tending to the chestnuts roasting in the open hearth. Abuela Carmen was masterful, her wrinkled hands moving deftly as she placed a fresh batch of chestnuts into the iron skillet over the flames. She gave them a gentle toss, and the warm, nutty scent wafted through the air. You swear your stomach grumbled at the smells alone. 

You and Alexia got stuck in, plating dishes and gathering the cutlery. Abuela Carmen called you over to watch and observe her roast the chestnuts and Abuelo Miguel showed you how to make authentic Sangria. As the final preparations were completed, you and Alexia helped carry the food out to the terrace. After a few back and fourths, you make your last trip to the terrace carrying a pitcher of the Sangria that you had made. You place it in the corner of the table, stepping back to admire the setting.

The table was made from rich, dark wood. It was long enough to accommodate the entire extended family, with matching sturdy chairs situated on each side. The natural grain of the wood is complemented by a table runner that runs down its length—a delicate fabric adorned with intricate patterns in shades of gold, dark blue, and deep red.

"Barcelona colours. You see?" Alexia points out with a wink as she passes you to put down a platter of cured meats. You roll your eyes at her. You can take the woman out of Barcelona, but you can’t take Barcelona out of the woman.

Each place setting thoughtfully arranged, with ceramic plates, polished silver cutlery, and neatly folded deep burgundy linen napkins held together with rustic twine and a sprig of fresh rosemary. Above each plate were crystal glasses ready to be filled with the finest wines-- to which Alexia pointed out to you that there were separate glasses for red and white wine. You did not know that beforehand. 

An arrangement of autumn leaves in hues of gold, orange, and crimson was interspersed with clusters of chestnuts, pomegranates, and small gourds. Among the foliage, candles in glass holders flickered softly, their flames bouncing off of wine glasses. Along the table were small bowls filled with olives, marinated in garlic and herbs, and plates of freshly baked bread, still warm from the oven. Ceramic bowls filled with olive oil and balsamic vinegar sat within easy reach.

Personalised name cards, handwritten on small pieces of parchment, were placed at each setting. You round the table, eyeing each name card, and pausing when you see one addressed to you. Yours was next to Alexia's, handwritten in beautiful calligraphy just like the rest of the family.

Soon your ears pick up on the muted sound of gravel crunching under tires. One by one, cars pulled up to the grand estate, and the echoes of greetings pierced through the silence. You take a deep breath, looking down at your outfit to make sure you didn't have any balsamic stains on your cardigan or any suspicious crumbs on your trousers.

The first to arrive were Alexia's uncle Javier and his wife, Elena, along with their three children. Javier, a tall man with a warm smile, embraced you with a hug. Maria, a graceful woman with kind eyes, kissed you on both cheeks, her greeting rolling off her tongue easily. She had a nice voice, you thought to yourself, but that could just be the nerves forcing you to focus on anything but your growing anxiety. 

The children, two boys and a girl, darted past their parents, racing each other to check out the table and all the colourful decorations.

“Alexia, it’s been too long!” Javier exclaimed, shrugging off his blazer and draping it over his chair. He turns to you. “And I'm glad you finally brought your girl home. Welcome to the family, hija.”

Next came Tia Isabel, Elena’s great-aunt, a sprightly woman in her seventies. She arrived with her husband, Roberto, and their son, Carlos. Isabel, wearing a vibrant yellow shawl greeted everyone with enthusiastic hugs and kisses-- including you. In fact, you swear she gave you an extra tight squeeze when she came to hug you.

Soon after a car pulled up with Alexia's cousins, Maritza and Sofia. Their partners trail behind them with their bags and bottles of wine. Maritza comes strutting onto the terrace, her high-heel shoes click clacking, announcing her arrival. She greets you, complimenting your cardigan, and practically steals you away from Alexia to chat. She leads you to the table, sneakily swapping the name card to your left with her own so you can sit together and talk more.

Meanwhile Sofia, who Alexia mentioned is an artist, carried a canvas bag filled with small gifts she had made for the family. After yelling her greetings to everyone, she goes straight to the table and starts picking out wrapped objects from her bag, placing them by the corresponding name card. Everyone immediately goes to open their presents, revealing handmade pottery. There were mugs, bowls, and small plates, each glazed in vibrant colours and decorated with unique patterns and designs. She takes out the last one and walks over to you, holding it out. "This one's for you. Alexia said you love the colour pink and anything with cherries on it"

You stand up, thanking her and unwrap your present. You start to apologise for not having brought anything for her in exchange, but she just waves your apologies away, urging you to focus on unwrapping your gift instead. Underneath the wrapping paper revealed a ceramic white mug with red cherries all over, sweet and dainty. Perfect for your daily cups of coffee. "Wow. This is beautiful. Thank you, Sofia"

Sofia smiles proudly, accepting the shouts of praise directed at her from the rest of the family as well. She bows exaggeratedly before she threatens everyone that they must use their gifts or else. 

As the last few family members continued to arrive, the atmosphere grew even more festive. From your view from above, the courtyard was abuzz with activity—children playing tag around the lanterns, and adults catching up, their hands already occupied with their beverage of choice or nibbling on some tapas. 

Soon enough Abuela Carmen called everyone to come to the table. It was time to eat. Everyone gathered around, their faces lit by the warm, golden light. The terrace offered a breathtaking view of the vineyard below, the rows of vines now bathed in the silvery light of the moon.

“Come, come, sit,” Abuela Carmen urged, gesturing for you to take your seat. You take your place, feeling Alexia slide into her seat right next to you. She takes her napkin, unfolds it, and lays it across her lap. You follow suit. “I hope this is enough food for your first La Castanyada.”

Alexia chuckles from beside you. She gestures at the feast before you. "It's more than enough, Abuela. Te lo juro"

"Muy bien. Good. I want your first La Castanyada to be perfect" Aubela Carmen looks down at you fondly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear when a light breeze blows by. She gives your shoulder one last squeeze before she walks over to her own place by the head of the table.

You had heard of the Catalan tradition before. Alexia had not only explained it to you countless times before, but you also took the liberty in doing some research before coming. According to your research, La Castanyada is a celebration held in late autumn to honour the dead. The tradition is rooted in the whole family coming together to enjoy seasonal treats like roasted chestnuts and tiny almond cakes.

Between courses, music filled the air. Abuelo Miguel strummed his guitar, leading the family in traditional Catalan songs. Alexia's cousins joined in with their singing, encouraging everyone else to clap and sing. Even the children took turns dancing and performing.

The table was a feast for the gods. At the center of the table, a large platter showcased roasted vegetables fresh from the estate’s garden. Beside it sat a carved wooden bowl overflowing with mixed greens—arugula, radicchio, and delicate frisée—tossed lightly in a vinaigrette of lemon, olive oil, and herbs. 

A large paella pan sat ready at one end of the table, brimming with golden saffron-infused rice. It was piled on with prawns, mussels, and pieces of chicken, with slices of chorizo nestled among the rice. Fresh sprigs of parsley were scattered over the top, and lemon wedges lined the edges. Next to the paella, a warm loaf of crusty artisan bread sat on a wooden board. Nearby was a selection of spreads and dips; including a rich, roasted red pepper romesco, and creamy whipped feta with herbs. 

Right in front of your plate sat a dish of patatas bravas. The fried potato cubes were smothered in a spicy tomato sauce and drizzled with a swirl of garlicky aioli. Plates of jamón ibérico were carefully fanned out beside it, the thin, ruby-red slices almost translucent. The seafood continued with grilled octopus, charred lightly at the edges and served on a bed of roasted chickpeas and fennel, dressed in a lemon and caper sauce. 

Abuela Carmela lifted her glass, her eyes sparkling with affection as she looked around at her family. “To La Castanyada,” she began, her voice warm and steady. “To our loved ones, present and remembered, and to the blessings of family.”

Everyone echoed her toast, glasses clinking, blending with the crackle of the fire nearby. With that, the meal began. You picked up one of the roasted chestnuts, still warm from the cazuela. You took a tentative bite, and immediately, a soft sweetness spread over your tongue. The texture was velvety, almost creamy. You did not know chestnuts could taste like this.

Alexia watched you chew, your face screwed up in thought. When you turned to her with a big smile on your face, she subconsciously released the breath she was holding. While you were busy scooping another mouthful of the chestnuts, Alexia secretly raised a thumbs up at her abuela. Abuela Carmen replied back with a quick wink and a satisfied smile. 

When the large pan of paella, Alexia used the serving spoon to scoop a generous serving of the rice, with prawns and chorizo, and placed it on your plate for you. She then served herself before passing it down the table. 

You pile your fork with the paella, bringing the fork to your mouth. Immediately, the layers of flavour bloomed in your mouth: the smoky paprika from the chorizo, the sweetness of the prawn, and the aromatic saffron that tinted the rice. You chew some more before tucking into your plate again. Gathering another spoonful of paella into your mouth, you were practically dancing in your sea. In the middle of chewing, you turn to Alexia with wide eyes. 

She thumbs away the little bit of sauce on the corner of your lip, patiently waiting for you to finish chewing. 

You swallow, licking your lips afterwards. “Delicioso”

“Si?” Alexia asks, with raised eyebrows, as if she can’t see the pure elation painted all over your face.

You hum in reply, nodding– practically humming a melody as you eat another forkful. “Si!” 

Alexia laughs at you, endearingly, unable to resist the urge to love on you. She wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to her, and starts raining kisses on your cheek. You blush profusely at her blatant display of affection in front of her family but everyone just continuous on eating, but you can see a few secret smiles on their faces. 

“Oye, Carlos! pass the paella, por favor” Alexia calls out. When the plate reaches her, she scoops a serving directly onto your plate. 

“We cook this every year,” She says, leaning close to your ear. “It’s part of the tradition. You’ll have to learn the recipe if you want to stick around.”

You look at her and smile, your heart swelling at the thought of being part of these yearly rituals. Glancing around the table, you tried to take in the sight of the rest of Alexia's family and their happy faces. Everyone sat around this large table, passing around dishes and stories. The evening air was filled with the sounds of laughter, clinking glasses, and the low crackle of the fire. Not a bad deal at all.

From the distance, just across the vineyard, you could see a faint warm glow illuminating, perhaps from where other houses were participating in the celebrations as well.

The evening slipped into a comfortable rhythm. The conversation flowed, mostly in Spanish with Alexia translating when needed, but even when you didn’t understand every word, you never felt left out. Everyone made sure to try and speak English, especially when they were referring to you. Your heart warmed at their efforts.

Javier, ever the storyteller, was in the middle of recounting a story from his travels. His hands moved expressively as he spoke, his voice booming with laughter. You listened intently as you followed his tale. 

All of a sudden a hand gently tapped yours that was resting on top of the table.

“So,” Tia Isabel, who was sitting in front of you, asked. She eagerly leaned forward in her seat, her plate pushed aside and she was nursing her glass of red wine. “Tell us, how did you and Alexia meet?”

You smiled, glancing over at the woman with the pretty hazel eyes sitting right next to you. “We met through the club,” You explained. “I work for the club doing all the social media stuff."

Maritza pipes up from beside you. "Oh. Are you the one--uhh how do you say-- filming the videos?"

You turn to her and nod. Maritza looked a lot like Alexia's sister, Alba. If you did not know any better, you would've assumed Alexia had been hiding a third sister from you. "Si. I make and create content for the team's social media."

You catch from your peripheral as your girlfriend suddenly seems very interested in your conversation. She stretches an arm, resting it on the back of your chair.

"So the blindfolded pizza challenge was your idea?"

You nod, feeling your cheeks heat up. That video was one of your favourite pieces of content you had ever created, and it was an instant hit with the fans. On the other hand, it was Alexia’s least favourite.  

Sofia clasps her hands together, practically bouncing in her chair. "I love that video!"

Alexia interjects. "I still can't believe she made me eat olives. I hate olives"

Chuckling at the visible shudder she let out, you smile when you recall the shock on everyone's faces when Alexia blindly picked out the one paper that had olives on it. The rules of the game state that the players must take turns blindly pulling out little slips of paper with a food item on it. They must then put the food item onto their pizza, and bake it. To make it fun, aside from the typical pizza toppings, food options include gummy worms, mustard, anchovies and– unfortunately for Alexia– olives. 

So Alexia had no choice but to begrudgingly place a couple olives on her pizza. You will never get over the sight of the Barcelona captain with tears welling in her eyes at the end of the video. Afterwards, she gave you the silent treatment the entire evening.

As the conversation continued to flow, Abuela Carmen stood up, her chair scraping against the tiled floor, catching everyone’s attention. “I hope everyone has room for postres-- dessert,?” she announced with a smile. She motioned for Elena and Sofia, who brought out trays of panellets and sweet potatoes.

Everyone ooooh'd and ahhh'd' as the trays were placed on the table. You watched in awe as the beautifully arranged treats were revealed. Panellets, the traditional marzipan sweets, were decorated with pine nuts, coconut, and almonds. Their sweet aroma mingled with the scent of the roasted sweet potatoes.

Abuela Carmen handed you a small dessert plate. “You must try these, preciosa. Quickly. Before the rest of the family eats them all.”

You graciously took a piece of the panellet, its delicate sweetness melting in your mouth. “Esto es delicioso, Abuela Carmen!”

Abuela Carmen beamed, patting your hand. The crinkles by her eyes deepened until her eyes smiled like crescent moons. “I’m glad you like them”

She turns to the table, quickly grabbing the last bit of the panellets, much to the apparent surprise of the entire family. She places the last piece on your plate. “This is for you.”

The table is stunned for a moment, but they all nod in agreement. That is until Maritza breaks the silence by calling for another toast– this time, to you. You wave your hand around, covering your face in embarrassment but it only fuels everyone to continue teasing you out of affection. Alexia is beaming by your side. It’s sort of a known thing in their culture that people usually offer the last piece of any cake or desert to the people they care about. Her Abuela offering the last piece to you is already a sign of fondness. 

Despite your embarrassment over the attention, you gladly accept the last piece of desert and enjoyed every last bite. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Eventually, the family gathered their drinks and began to move from the terrace to the courtyard. The space was softly illuminated by string lights and a large stone fireplace. Vintage wrought-iron lanterns hung at intervals along the pergola’s length. Arranged in clusters around the fireplace, there were plush, low-slung lounge chairs and sofas, upholstered in fabrics of earthy tones.

The warmth from the fire pit mingled with the cool autumn breeze. You were almost tempted to excuse yourself to fetch your coat, so when Alexia silently handed you a big wool throw for you to share, you practically let out a big sigh in relief. "no puedo imaginar la vida sin ti, mi corazon. i love you so much"

Your lover just laughs, throwing her head back freely, before bending down to meet your lips for a kiss. You feel her smiling against your lips as she whispers "stop picking up your Spanish from telenovelas, amor"

She kisses you once more before asking you to scoot over.

She took her seat beside you, your shoulders touching, legs cocooned under the throw blanket. There was something magical about this moment right now. Something comforting about the way the stars seemed to glow brighter, the way the fire crackled in the distance, and the warmth of Alexia's hand in yours.

“I am really happy you are here,” she leaned in to whisper, pressing a soft kiss to your temple afterwards.

You smiled, your heart swelling with a deep sense of contentment and belly full of the hearty meal. “Me too, baby.”

As everyone continued to sip their beverage of choice, Abuelo Miguel began to tell stories—tales from his childhood, stories of La Castanyada celebrations that stretched back generations. His voice carried the weight of the years. You could see the flicker of memories in his eyes as he recounted how, when he was a young boy, they would light bonfires in the town square, gathering with chestnuts and special wine specially reserved for the occasion.

Alexia nudge you with her shoulder, her eyes doing that thing where she studies your face intently, silently trying to read your mind. When she likes what she sees, she smiles. “It’s beautiful, si?”

You gaze right back at her, appreciating the way the glow of the fire highlights her face; the sharpness of her jawline, the twinkle in her eyes, and the slight wetness on her plump bottom lip. “Very beautiful,” you whispered back to her.

As the evening wore on, more chestnuts were passed around. Everyone ate them with sticky fingers and washed them down with small glasses of sweet moscatel wine. Talks shifted to quieter conversations as the night settled, the stars brighter against the dark sky.

At one point, Abuela Carmen stood and began to sing a melodic song, her voice warm, the notes hanging in the cool air like a lullaby. Abuelo Miguel joined in, his deep baritone harmonising with hers, creating a moment so tender that you almost felt as if you were intruding on something too intimate.

Alexia shifted closer to you, tugging the blanket higher so it covers you from the neck down. The air was slightly chilly now. She throws an arm around your shoulder, tucking you to her side, letting you rest against her. “I grew up with these songs,” she said softly against your ear. “Every year, we sing them.”

You laid your her head on her shoulder, taking a good look around the courtyard, taking in the scene—the glow of the lanterns, the warmth of the fire, the faces of the people who had welcomed you so easily, and the sound of Alexia's steady heartbeat beneath your ear.

“I think I could get used to this,” You whispered to the woman beside you, surprising even yourself with the hint of emotion in your voice. 

Alexia smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from your eyes. She cupped your chin, tilting it up slightly, and leaned down to press a kiss to your lips. “Qué bien, because you are part of it from now on.”

fall is such a romantic season.

i hope your autumn has started off as beautifully as mine. think of me whenever you see leaves dancing in the wind x

・❥・- kisses, butter

read more of the Butter's Meadio-cre Mayhem (the Spooky Season collection) here

*This work is my original creation. Please don’t copy, share, or translate it without asking for my permission first. Thanks for respecting that!