#brugt

[helen-with-an-a]

Can you do a Barca one where R is suffering with ED, but as one of the newest players, alexia and Jona are rough with her for a bit before she passes out on the field. Her bestfriend, and only friend at Barca, Ingrid, comes to her and feels how light she’s became and that’s when they find out about it?

Hiiiiii - thank you so much for the request and sorry it took so long to get through. Thank you to all the people who reached out offering advice about how to write this - I deeply appreciate it and I hope this helps someone out there. I know that it's scary and daunting but please, please talk to someone. Reaching out for help is the hardest thing, I am well aware of it, but I promise you it will get better. People love you. People want you in there lives. You are worth it and deserve every ounce of love in the world. I hope that my little corner of the internet can help you in some way. Lot of love to every single one of you. Forehead smooches for you all. I hope you enjoy this.

Different From Last Time

Barça Femeni x Reader

Description: R's eating disorder comes back when she moves to Barcelona

TW: Eating Disorder; Disordered Eating habits

Word Count: 3.1k

You hadn’t meant it. Not this time. It wasn’t like last time. Last time, there had been a snippy comment by a jealous girl. Last time, there had been a throw-away quip from a boy that you thought you had a crush on that you hadn’t thrown away. Last time, there had been a slow descent into your Bad Place. Last time, people around you had noticed. Last time, there were hospital visits and psychiatrists. Last time was not like this time. This time, there was no catalyst, no remark that sent you spiralling. This time, it happened without thinking about it. This time the Bad Place had appeared around you without you realising. This time was very different.

It had started when you moved to Barcelona. Your usual breakfast of porridge had made you feel ill one morning. The heaviness of the dense meal sat in your stomach for far longer than was comfortable and paired with the heat … it was not a fun time for you. The next day you had felt the same … and the next, and the next. So, you decided to cut the oats out, and pick at some of the fresh fruit sitting in the fridge instead. It never crossed your mind to replace the oats with something lighter but still filling, like a yoghurt or something. This was fine on your off-days, But by the time lunch arrived, you were starving – so you ate a lot. You plate was piled high of pasta and chicken and vegetables. All healthy, all nutritious. But because you’d ate so much at lunch, you weren’t hungry at dinner. So, you ended up skipping dinner, or picking at some more fruit.

Slowly, without you even realising it, all you were eating at home was fruit. Fruit and a milky coffee or black tea. Your breakfast was a delicious nectarine or a juicy vibrant orange and a mug of freshly brewed coffee with frothy, milky latte art on top or a warm, inviting cup of tea. You knew it might not have been the most nourishing of ways to start your day, but the thought of anything heavier had your stomach churning. The weather was warm, and you truly honestly weren’t hungry. Until you smelled the food in the lunchroom. Every day, you were the first one in and the last one out of the cafeteria. Pasta, rice, potatoes, chicken, beef, pork, carrots, mushrooms, broccoli, peppers. You name it, you probably ate it. It never really clicked in your mind that this could have been a sign. You never felt guilty after eating it, so you didn’t have a problem … right?

But then the off days rolled around. Without the structure of the training schedule, instructing you when and where to eat, you found yourself lost in the quiet of your little flat on the edge of town.  The fridge hummed softly, filled with vibrant colours of fruits you’d stocked up on. Baskets of peaches, plums, and pears lined your kitchen counter. They were beautiful to look at, reminding you of a still-life painting. That’s essentially all they were. A piece of decoration for you to look at.

It was an off day that you finally noticed the changes. You’d stepped out of the shower, steam still clinging to the small bathroom, and caught a glimpse of yourself. The skin stretched tight over your collarbones; your arms looked thinner, almost fragile.  The muscle you had worked so hard to gain was less noticeable. It was subtle, not something that would scream at anyone else, but you knew your body, and this wasn’t right. You brushed it off at first, telling yourself it was just the result of a new lifestyle. The Mediterranean diet, wasn’t that supposed to be healthier? People here were slim, fit, effortlessly beautiful. You were just blending in, adapting, right?

You refused to acknowledge it. You had been through this before. This was nothing like that. The words that lingered in your mind weren’t there this time. You didn’t fear things the way you did last time. You were fine. It wasn’t like last time.

You started to feel tired all the time. Not just sleepy, but exhausted, like your bones were weighed down with sand. It wasn’t the kind of tired that a good night’s sleep could fix. It was deeper, more persistent, as if it had seeped into your very being. You tried to ignore it, pushing through your days with a smile that felt more like a mask.

The coaches had started to pick up on your sluggishness. You were known for your speed – your nimble movements as you dodged round defenders like a dancer weaving through a crowded ballroom, your movements calm and calculated with perfect precision. But now, now your steps felt heavy – your timing off as you, once again, gave the ball away. It was preseason – surely you shouldn’t be this tired?

“Y/N, is everything ok?” Pere asked softly as he pulled you off to the side. You swallowed. Was everything ok?

“Yeh,” you sighed. “Sorry, I’m just tired. Still trying to get used to the heat,” you gestured around you. It was sweltering that’s for such. The temperature at the ground reaching an uncomfortable mid-thirties by mid-morning.

You knew you needed to step it up. You needed to be better. If not for you, then the team. The team needed you at your best. And you had to be the best. Maybe it was the Bad Thoughts talking, but you decided that being the best meant just training harder, not taking that step to talk to someone, to seek professional help. This wasn’t like last time. You could manage it.

And so, you pushed harder. You told yourself that this was the answer; that all you needed was to work through the fatigue, to out-train the tiredness that clung to you like a second skin. Early morning runs before the sun had fully risen, extra drills after everyone else had left the field, more laps, more weights, more sweat. You kept telling yourself that the ache in your muscles was proof that you were getting stronger, that the exhaustion in your bones was a sign that you were working toward something better.

You hadn’t really noticed it, but you were so focussed on training that you had stopped interacting with people. You were so tired all the time, your response became short and snippy. You were getting more and more irritable as the days went by. The little things that never used to bother you—the noise in the locker room, a teammate’s joke, even the way someone chewed their food—started to grate on your nerves. You could feel the frustration bubbling just beneath the surface, ready to spill over at any moment. But instead of addressing it, instead of acknowledging that something was wrong, you buried it under layers of denial and discipline. You told yourself it was just the stress, that everyone got like this sometimes. It was just part of being an athlete, right?

It was Alexia who first approached you, a few weeks after her return from the Olympics. She had been well aware of who you were before you signed for Barcelona – she had been on the receiving end of a few of your nutmegs and perfectly executed presses. This was not the Y/N she had played against.

She had found you outside, setting up for free kick practice. She found it strange – that you would choose to practice those of all things. You weren’t on the list to take set pieces, your name so far down the list the pigs would sooner fly then you participating in that part of football games.

“Hola,” Alexia said, coming to stand next to you. You jumped, your body tensing at the intruder. “Lo siento,” she smiled at you.

“Alexia, um, hi?” You sounded genuinely shocked she was near you, voluntarily talking to you.

The Catalan captain scared you a little. It was something about her composure, her intensity that made you nervous to even breathe the same air as her, let alone talk to her.

“What are you doing?” She asked, honestly curious at your choice of activity.

“Practising,” you dismissed, looking across at the set up.

“Why?”

“Because I need to …” you trailed off, making it sound more like a question than anything else.

“We haven’t even had a game yet, I think you’re fine,” she consoled.

��No, I need to push myself. I need to be better. I want to do this for the team.” With those words, Alexia made up her mind. Something she would later regret massively, but something that, in the moment, seemed like a very smart idea.

Alexia observed you the following afternoon. You were right, you were moving more slowly than usual. You were slower, you were less agile, you were making mistakes that you never used to make. Alexia thought she was helping.

“No, de nuevo.” Alexia barked. You flinched at the tone, the harshness of Alexia's voice cutting through the afternoon air like a whip. It wasn’t just you who noticed – everyone on the pitch turned their heads, eyes widening in surprise. Alexia was known for her leadership, for guiding the team with a firm but fair hand. But this? This was different. It was almost like she was pushing you, testing your limits in a way that felt more personal than professional.

You forced yourself to focus, your heart pounding in your chest. Sweat dripped down your forehead, stinging your eyes as you tried to reset, to shake off the growing sense of unease that had taken root inside you. You couldn’t afford to mess this up, not in front of her, not in front of the team.

Again and again, you repeated the drill, your legs growing heavier with each attempt. You could feel your breath hitching, your lungs burning, but you pushed through, ignoring the screaming protests of your body. This was what you needed, right? To push harder, to be better. But with each failed attempt, each barked command from Alexia, doubt crept further into your mind.

Your teammates watched with a mix of concern and confusion. They could see something was off, that you were struggling more than usual, but no one dared to say anything. Alexia’s presence was too commanding, too intimidating to question. So they stayed silent, exchanging worried glances as you faltered once again.

“No, no, no,” Alexia snapped, stepping closer, her frustration palpable. “That’s not good enough. Again.”

You nodded, barely hearing her words over the pounding in your ears. The world was starting to tilt, the edges of your vision blurring as you bent over, hands on your knees, trying to catch your breath. But there was no time for that. You had to keep going. You had to prove yourself.

“Y/N,” Alexia’s voice cut through your haze, sharp and unyielding. “Again.”

You straightened up, legs trembling, and moved to take your position. But the ground seemed to shift beneath your feet, and suddenly, you were stumbling, your vision narrowing to a pinpoint. Panic flared in your chest as the world spun, and before you could stop it, darkness began to close in around you.

Was it the heat? Was it the food? You really couldn’t tell. You felt horrific. But you had to keep going. You swayed gently as you began to sprint off. You needed out … you needed to breathe. Your body was on autopilot as you went through the motions.

Esmee was the first to notice. Your skin had a sallow, sickly paleness. Your eyes were sunken and your hair too thin. You looked awful. Her concern quickly turned to alarm as she watched you sway; your movements unsteady and uncoordinated. She could see the strain etched across your face, the way your muscles trembled with every step. Something was terribly wrong, and it was no longer just about your performance on the pitch.

She reached over to Ingrid, tapping her gently on the shoulder. The pair of them looked over to where you and Alexia were standing – you were barely conscious. How you were still on your feet was anyone’s guess. They exchanged glances, silently agreeing that something was terribly, terribly amiss and Alexia was taking things too far.

“Y/N, stop!” Mapí shouted, her voice breaking through the fog that had settled in your mind. But you barely registered it, your body still moving on instinct, trying to obey Alexia’s last command. The group didn’t hesitate. They were over to you in a flash. They sprinted across the field, reaching you just as your legs buckled underneath you. Ingrid’s gentle arms wrapped around you.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” she said, her voice soft but urgent as she guided you to sit down on the grass. “You need to stop, Y/N. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

Alexia’s frustration melted into concern as she watched the scene unfold. She hadn’t realised just how bad things had gotten until now. She had been so focused on pushing you to be your best that she hadn’t seen the toll it was taking on you, both physically and mentally. Guilt gnawed at her as she hurried over, her expression shifting from stern to worried.

“Y/N, why didn’t you say something?” Alexia asked, kneeling beside you, her voice uncharacteristically gentle.

You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat. Your vision was blurry, and the world felt like it was spinning out of control. You felt Ingrid’s hand on your back, rubbing soothing circles, but even that small comfort wasn’t enough to calm the panic rising in your chest.

“I… I thought I could handle it,” you finally managed to whisper, tears welling up in your eyes. “It isn’t like last time.”

“What’s not like last time?” Esmee’s gentle voice drifted over you.

“All of it. The Bad Thoughts aren’t like last time. I didn’t mean to do it. I …” If you had the energy, you would have been hysterical.

“Y/N, I need you to listen to me,” Alexia’s tone posed no arguments. This was Captain Alexia talking. She brought a hand to your cheek, her palm gently guiding you to look at her. “Have you hurt yourself? Do you need an ambulance?”

“Not cuts. I … I don’t do that,” you whispered.

The sigh of relief was audible from all the girls around you.

“What didn’t you mean to do, Kjære?” Ingrid asked the question. She figured that since you were still in her arms, your back against her chest, that it might be easier voicing whatever it was that plagued your mind.

“I …” You remembered how hard it was to voice it all last time. At that had been to a total stranger. But then again … that had been to a total stranger. A stranger that had your best interests at heart, but they didn’t know you. Not like these girls did. “Food,” was what you settled on.

The moment the word left your lips, you felt the air around you shift. The weight of the confession hung heavily in the silence that followed, pressing down on everyone around you. The tension was palpable, each of your teammates processing what you had just said, the reality of the situation settling in.

Mapí's sharp intake of breath was the first sound that broke the silence, her shock evident. You could feel Ingrid's arms tighten around you slightly, as if she was trying to shield you from the world, from the consequences of your admission. Alexia’s hand remained on your cheek, her eyes searching yours for any sign of what you were truly going through.

"Food?" Ingrid repeated softly, her voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it any louder would make the situation even more real. "What do you mean, Y/N? Have you not been eating?"

You hesitated, your mind racing with the implications of what you were about to reveal. But there was no turning back now. The truth had already started to spill out, and you couldn't stop it even if you wanted to. "Not… not like I should," you finally admitted, your voice trembling. "It just… happened. I didn’t mean for it to, but I’ve been skipping meals, and when I do eat, it’s like I can’t stop. At home I can't eat. But in the cafeteria, it's all I can do …"

The guilt in Alexia’s eyes deepened, her mind replaying every drill, every push, every time she had demanded more from you without realizing the burden you were already carrying. "Y/N," she began, her voice laced with regret, "I had no idea. I should have seen the signs. I’m so sorry."

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time, they weren’t just from exhaustion or fear. They were from the overwhelming mix of emotions you felt—from relief that the truth was finally out, to shame for not being able to handle it on your own, to fear of what would come next.

Esmee knelt beside you, her hand reaching out to squeeze yours. "We’re going to help you," she said firmly, her tone leaving no room for doubt. "You don’t have to go through this alone, Y/N. We’re your team, and that means we’re here for you, no matter what."

The others nodded in agreement, their faces reflecting a mixture of concern and determination. You could see the resolve in their eyes, the silent promise that they wouldn’t let you face this battle alone.

Alexia took a deep breath, her hand still resting gently on your cheek. "The most important thing right now is your health," she said, her voice steady. "We’ll figure this out together. We’ll talk to the coach, to the doctors, and we’ll make sure you get the support you need."

You nodded, too overwhelmed to speak. The support of your teammates was more than you could have hoped for, and for the first time in weeks, you felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe this time really was different. Maybe this time, you wouldn’t have to face the darkness alone.

Ingrid gently helped you to your feet, her arm still around your waist to steady you. The others formed a protective circle around you, their presence a silent but powerful reminder that you were part of something bigger, something stronger than any one of you alone.

As they guided you off the field, you knew that this was just the beginning of a long and difficult journey. But you also knew that with them by your side, you could face whatever came next. And for the first time in a long time, you felt like you were going to be okay.

I hope you enjoyed it <3<3<3

[pitchsidestories]

the kids are alright II Barcelona Femení x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1666

a/n: inspired by this request here, enjoy.

summary: the Barça youngsters see Lucy and you as their team mums, a game against your Spanish teammates doesn’t change the love you've for them.

pairings: Barcelona Femeni x Reader (platonic), Lucy Bronze x Reader (romantic)

Such team mums.

She had even dared to add an eye-rolling emoji to her comment.

You sighed.

This was not what you had expected when you checked your phone right after training ended.

Not even your Instagram posts were save from the Barca youngsters.

The notification saying that Esmee had commented under your post had already made you nervous, but you had not expected to be called that.

And the likes on her comment! Way too many in your humble opinion.

You scanned your post again. It was a simple photo of you and Lucy at your last game with Esmee, Vicky and Salma sandwiched between the two of you.

You shook your head slightly. Calling you and Lucy team mums had apparently become a running gag between the youngsters. And had now also made it to social media.

When you looked over, Esmee was in the motion of leaving the training pitch, looking as innocent as ever. Like she hadn’t just called you a team mum on the internet.

Lucy appeared on your side, sipping water from her water bottle. Her cheeks were still red from the training session.

Wordlessly, you thrusted your phone towards Lucy.

You watched as she studied the photo. She then turned to you with an “Is she really serious right now?“-look.

“Esmee!“

The dutch player blinked innocently at her: “Yes, Lucy?“

“I swear I will delete all your damn comments!“, the defender threatened, only the slightest quirk of her mouth revealed that she wasn’t serious.

Esmee smirked: “I don’t know why you’re so upset about that.“

“We’re not your mums!“, Lucy said with emphasis.

“No. But you behave like you are.“, Vicky sided with Esmee, smiling brightly at you.

You grimaced: “We don’t.“

“Sure.“, Salma grinned.

You and Lucy shared an annoyed look.

You decided to finally give up: “Alright, see you children on the pitch next week for the England versus Spain match. Except for Esmee.“

“We’ll beat you.“, Salma shrugged unimpressed.

Esmee rolled her eyes: “I will totally have a hard time without anyone telling me what to do.“

Mapi wrapped her arms around the young Dutch player from behind: “Don’t worry, Esmee. You’ll still have me for that.“

Esmee shot her a critical look: “You’re not a mum, Mapi. You’re more like the crazy aunt.“

“Excuse me?!“ Mapis face dropped and you had to bite back your laughter.

“Ignore the kid, Mapi.“, Lucy adviced with a dismissive hand gesture.

Mapi turned to Esmee: “Don’t you dare comment that on my posts.“

You sighed quietly. Of course, Mapi had already seen the comment too.

“I’d never.“, the Dutch player promised, her voice dripping with innocence.

You shot her an amused glance: “Lies.“

The cold temperature and the rain that just wouldn't stop made you shiver, even as a woman born in England. You had to admit to yourself that by now you were spoilt by the sun and warmth of Barcelona. How you yearned for that in this moment!

It wasn't long until the game, both teams were just surveying the pitch and you realised that the young Spanish players were not happy about the weather conditions.

“Hi children.”, Lucy was the first to greet them with a huge grin on her lips.

“Hey, mums.”, Jana chirmed.

“Ready for the game?”, the older defender asked.

“We’re.”, Salma nodded enthusiastically.

“And you’re not too cold? That’s quite a weather change from Barcelona?”, you raised an eyebrow worriedly.

“Mum mode activated.”, Vicky rolled her eyes at you.

“I was just asking!”, you protested laughing.

“We’re fine.”, the seventeen-year-old assured you.

“Good.”, you remarked.

“And we’re not even on your team.”, Salma threw in with an amused smile.

“I know.”, you told her.

“Just letting you kids know that I’ll go as hard in as I’ve to but after the game I’ll check if you’re okay.”, Lucy warned them.

“We don’t need to be looked after.”, Vicky insisted.

It would be a tough 90-minute game. The rain which kept pouring made the grass slippery underneath the players feet. Somehow Beth was able to score in the last minute of the game and the lionesses pulled the Arsenal forward into a group hug.

Afterwards your girlfriend and you walked to the defeated Spanish players, you promised them to do a jersey exchange, but you knew the small gesture wouldn’t help against the pain of their loss. 

“You weren’t bad either.”, Salma replied.

“Weren’t bad? We won.”, Lucy reminded her.

“Yeah, you did.”, Vicky muttered, shoulders shrink while she looked down to the wet grass, the watery pearls seemed like tears.

“Congrats Kei, Luce and y/n.”, Alexia hugged each of you. The captain of your club team was clearly disappointed in their performance as a whole but especially by her own. 

“Thanks. Good game, Ale.”, you responded truthfully.

“You were great too.”, she admitted, happy to have you usually in her team and not as an opponent.

Suddenly you realized that your girlfriend who didn’t leave your side since the referee had ended the game wasn’t there anymore.

“Where’s Lucy?”, you wanted to know from your teammate.

“She’s babysitting again.”, Alexia explained grinning, pointing into the direction where Lucy was handing the young Barcelona girls their jackets, making sure they’re staying warm despite the cold.

“It’s cute.”, you commented, seeing their interactions and your lover in the centre of it warmed your heart.

“Thanks for cheering them up, they need that. It wasn’t a good game.”, the midfielder said gratefully.

You trained your gaze back on Alexia and gently smiled at her: “You’re welcome. Losing is always hard, especially when you’re young and not used to it.“

“Right.“, she replied, biting her lip.

You knew that she still struggled with lost games, even as an experienced player so you quietly pulled her in for a hug.

She didn’t fight it and relaxed a bit. Enough for you to know that she had needed the hug.

Lucys voice drifted towards you as she instructed the young players: “Don’t forget your recovery, girls!“

“Sure, Lucia.“, Vicky said in a mocking tone and rolled her eyes.

At the same time Alexia let go of you, pulling out of the embrace and looked over at her teammates. With a stern expression, she watched as the younger players slowly made their way towards the dressing rooms.

“And keep your head high!“, you called after them.

Salma turned her head towards you and grimaced.

You almost laughed about her reaction. They might make fun of you, calling you team mums but they enjoyed being the children a little too much as well.

Janas face appeared next to Alexia, beaming at you and Lucy who finally joined your group now that the children were taken care of.

“You’d be such good mums one day!“, she squealed.

Alexia shrugged nonchalantly: “Agreed. But no pressure, I want to have you two as long in my team as possible.“

She raised her eyebrows with a smirk.

“So do we.“, you laughed.

Lucy grinned: “Don’t worry, we have enough children for now.“

“We do.“, you agreed.

A buzzing noise in the pocket of your jacket startled you. You carefully pulled out your phone, an Instagram notification on your screen.

You already knew what would come next.

“Oh my god, Esmee commented again!“

“Again?!“, Lucy echoed and slid closer to you so she could have a look at your phone too.

“Yes, on the lionesses latest post. See?“

Lucy released a breath: “I’m going to murder her!“

“Don’t.“, you said calmly while replying to Esmees comment with a simple heart emoji.

Maybe it was time to embrace being the team mums.

“I’ll take her phone then!“, Lucy suggested.

“Yes, that’s a good idea.“, you laughed.

Your girlfriend rolled her eyes with obvious fondness: “These children.“

“You love them though.“

“Maybe…“, she admitted slowly but with sparkling eyes. She looked lost in her own thoughts.

Playfully, you elbowed her in the side: “What are you thinking about?“

She shook her head and answered more seriously: “Nothing. Let’s go back to our team.“

“Alright.“, you said, waving goodbye to Alexia and Jana.

“Come on. The children will be alright.”, Lucy remarked softly.

“Fine.”, you agreed, hoping that in the save four walls of your hotel room the defender would be able to tell you what she was thinking about.

Later you were wrapped up in your bathrobe and noticing how unusually quiet your girlfriend was. Cautiously you sat down next to her on the bed.

“Luce, you’ve been suspiciously silent, so what’s on your mind?”

The stillness in the room became almost unbearable to you.

Slowly, the fellow footballer turned her face round to look at you.

“Maybe she’s got a point. We would be great mums.”, Lucy admitted emotionally.

“Yes, I agree.”, you nodded, feeling the significance of this conversation you were having.

“You do?”, the dark-haired woman asked in return.

“Yes, just not because they said it though.”, you emphasized.

“No, of course not.”, Lucy replied.

“Maybe we should give it a try? Not right away but soon?”, you suggested nervously.

“I’d love to have children with you actually.”, Lucy confessed in an earnest tone.

“Me too.”, you told her before she cupped your face with her hands to give you a heartfelt kiss. There was something promising in those kisses like it was the beginning of something new.

A couple of months had passed since the match against Spain. During the dinner with your Barcelona teammates at the training grounds Lucy handed Jana a little box.

The younger woman glanced at your girlfriend excitedly.

“Is this what I think it’s?”

“Find out and open it.”, the older defender smirked.

Your lover didn’t need to tell her twice, Jana unwrapped the box quickly and let out a delighted squeal once the player saw what was inside, a little pair of sneakers.

She knew immediately what the meaning behind those were and went to pull you two into a hug, while the other teammates followed suit.

[meazalykov]

new family

barcelona femení x kika nazareth x reader

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

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

your new home.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you’re a lesbian.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

then, it happens.

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

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

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

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

the ball hits the back of the net.

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

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

you did it. you scored in the champions league.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i’m… i’m dating someone–”

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

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

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

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

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

“yes?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

your heart breaks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

all of the adults in the room frowned.

“i am so sorry nina.” olga hugs you.

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

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

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

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

“not at all.” alexia finishes.

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

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

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

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

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

“we’re here for you, always.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

your new home.

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

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

[wileys-russo]

that’s family 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

[bellawoso]

girls

aitana bonmati x fem!reader

desc: kinda implicit smut but not much, still rated 16+ please!! also kinda short - im sorry its exam season and im dying 😭😭

aitana knew from a young age that she was into girls, when her highschool friends spent their free time talking about boys, she could never find it in herself to involve herself in the conversation. not many people knew about her sexuality, only ona and keira had a slight idea of it, after seeing aitana go home with a woman on one of the team night outs. if anyone asked aitana about her sexuality, she wouldnt lie, she would tell them confidentially that she was a lesbian, she wasnt ashamed of who she was after all.

the reason why hardly anyone knew, was that aitana didnt do relationships. most people on the team already knew that, aitana prioritised football over everything especially after 2023 ended, and as the awards kept stacking up, her winning mentality only increased, she put all of her time into making herself better.

that didnt make the spaniard inexperienced in the sexual aspects, and was never one to turn down a woman at the bar, but aitana preferred to skip the flirting, and get out of the club as soon as possible, especially before someone like mapi saw, who aitana knew would tease her all day at training.

however, since you joined the team, aitana didnt care about mapi seeing anymore, and instead focused on trying to not let you see, aitana wasnt sure why she was so against the idea of you knowing she was going home with another woman. but each time the midfielder spotted you sat down, laughing with your fellow lionesses at the table, the midfielder couldnt help but feel guilty as she let the other woman tug her towards the door.

as aitanas hookups increased, so did the pit of betrayal at the bottom of her stomach. but after one night, when thoughts of you plagued her mind as a girl that she didnt even know the name of came undone on her fingers, she knew she had to stop. normally, aitana lasted a few rounds, however this time her skills in the bedroom couldnt change her hookups mind, as aitana did the walk of shame out of this girls house after accidentally moaning your name as she came.

aitana did stop though, nearing around 4 months without a single girl, however the longer the period of time she spent without anyone, the more time she spent daydreaming of you. the main issue was that aitana was hardly even friends with you, sure the two of you had chemistry on the pitch, but off the pitch, the spaniard had no idea about you. aitana could just go on google or youtube to find out some facts about you and watch your interviews (which she had already done) however, anyone could find this out about you, aitana wanted to know things that the internet didnt. and to do that, she needed to try talk to you.

———

aitana liked to think of herself as a confident person, it took a lot of courage to heartlessly tell someone that they are nothing more than a hookup, but aitana hadnt thought about the fact that she had never had to see those women again. if you rejected her, then aitana would still have to see you each day at training, and she didnt think she could live with the embarrassment and awkwardness of that.

so she decided to first ask you to get a coffee with her after training, she knew lucy had brought you to training, so she could give you a lift back as well. aitanas plan was to befriend you first, and then try figure out if you reciprocated her feelings or not.

so when aitana decided she would offer to spot you, she didnt anticipate her body freezing up with nerves as she was about to ask you, which unluckily happened at the same time you failed your rep and actually needed aitanas help.

due to your intense sets, you were breathing unevenly as you tried to get aitanas attention, except gasping out “tana” didnt help the brunette anymore. instead her face blushed crimson, the spaniards pent up neediness for an orgasm from somebody other than herself was getting to her, and her mind couldnt help but think of how good you sounded saying her name.

her short daze was broken by you once again saying her name, as she quickly took the bar off you, repeating “lo siento” as you still gasped for air. when you grabbed onto the brunettes bicep for support, struggling to hold your self up after having your oxygen supply restricted for too long. you couldnt help but notice the muscle flexing unconsciously below your fingertips, which only seemed to make you feel more lightheaded.

“dios mio aitana, are you trying to kill me?” you wheezed out with a raspy chuckle, only to be met with silence from the midfielder and her holding up your water bottle to you. “you know im not mad at you, right tana?” you asked the spaniard, uncomfortable at the thought of her thinking your mad at her. “si, yes i know y/n, are you sure your okay?” she asked, as she gathered the courage to start rubbing comforting circles on your back. only when ona came up to the two of you, asking the both of you what happened accompanied with a knowing glance shot at aitana, did her hand stop rubbing circles on your back. the brunette instead let her hand fall, so it rested dangerously low on your lower back, causing you to shiver involuntarily.

you decided to call off your gym session early, you couldnt keep aitana off your mind, and your back still tingled where her hand had once rested. aitana decided to accompany you and drive you home, claiming she “owed it to you” after almost ending your life. despite the girls actual reason to take you home being she wanted to build her friendship with you, you suspected the midfielder just felt bad. never once did it cross your mind to ask what it was that had aitana so distracted during your workout.

———

your apartment was a 10 minute drive from the training grounds, however aitana had decided to take a detour, claiming that it would be faster due to the bad traffic in barcelona. however, after almost 45 minutes in the car, you were beginning to get tired, you were having a great conversation with the brunette who currently had one hand resting on the steering wheel, expertly navigating round the quieter streets of barcelona. as you looked over at the midfielder, you couldnt help but admire her side profile, and the way her eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she tried to remember the route.

a quick glance at the street you were currently at, on the map displayed by the screen of her car, had you internally groaning in frustration as you realised you were still half an hour away from your apartment.

“aita, are we almost there? im tired” you asked the midfielder, who now had a look of shock and suprise on her face.

aitana hadnt even realised how long she had been in the car with you for, she only meant to detour and make the route 10 minutes longer, not an hour. even the detour was only so she had enough time to build her courage to ask you out for a coffee.

“oh- yeah almost y/n! uhhh- like, another.. 30 minutes?” she said sheepishly, before quickly rushing out “¿Te gustaría tomar un café conmigo mañana?”

“aita, i dont speak spanish remember? especially not at the speed you just spoke at!” you said with a laugh.

fuck. aitana thought. although she had managed to ask you out, her nervous state had completely forgot to translate it into english so that you would understand. her adrenaline of asking you was wearing off, and she felt her previous nerves almost skyrocket at the thought of having to ask you again, especially now your full attention was on her.

“uhhh- get a coffee with me? i mean- uh, would you like to? to get a coffee with me? its fine if not- uh, it can just be as friends? if we are friends that is! its fine if-“ until aitanas state of rambling was cut off by you who although found her flustered state very amusing, was starting to feel pity for the spaniard who was struggling to even form a sentence at this point.

“i would love to aitana, its a date!”

“it is?” the midfielder said, receiving an encouraging nod from you, “it is!” she said more excited now, making you laugh at her excitement.

———

to other people, it would probably look like aitana had been stood up, but in reality, she had just decided to arrive at the coffee shop an hour early to hopefully have a coffee or two before you came, and prepare herself in hope to not embarrass herself too much in front of you.

the coffee shop she had chosen was one she had been to for years, it was relatively popular amongst locals, and was a small, cozy, family owned business, that aitana had grown to love.

as soon as you walked in the shop aitana requested to meet you at, you were met with aromas of roasted coffee beans and fresh pastries, you scanned the shop for the midfielder you had grown to love, and saw her sat at a window seat, with an empty mug infront of her.

“i didnt get the time wrong did i?” you asked her, glancing at her empty cup.

“no, no- i got here early” the brunette reassured, and outstretched her arms for a welcoming hug which you quickly accepted, the midfielder wrapped her arms around you, not wasting the opportunity to have you as close as possible. equally, you werent going to pass up the chance to have aitanas arms wrapped around you, especially as they were what you spent most of your gym time admiring as you did your weights, much to esmees amusement and annoyance, who was your usual gym partner.

as you pulled apart and sat down, aitana decided to go and order the both of you another coffee, coming back with two cinnamon lattes, your eyes widening in surprise as you realise she remembered your favourite drink that you mentioned during your rambling in the car yesterday.

the date went well, and much better than aitana expected, she managed to not embarrass herself at all, and left the date with a smudge of your lipstick on her cheek where you had kissed her goodbye, that she knew she would probably cry about when she had to wipe it off later.

———

yourinstagram

caption: owed me a coffee after almost murdering me in the gym ❤️ tagged: aitanabonmati

liked by: aitanabonmati, alexiaputellas and 23,416 others

comments:

aitanabonmati: are we even yet?

-> youruser: i think i might need a few more coffees…

lucybronze: are we even surprised??

-> youruser: i think i could say the same about you and a certain brunette defender on the team..

user1: guapaaaass

user2: are they together?!!!

user3: princess of england, and the princess of spain ❤️💙

———

[didalexiabreakupwitholgayet]

i love our dumb little family

[copper-16]

I am absolutely obsessed with the following photo category: when someone’s looking toward/into the camera but you KNOW they’re looking at their partner so it’s about 10838493x more intimate and sweet (Jill and Jana get a special shoutout because they simply have SO many pictures like this)

Like I actually CANNOT deal…the Jana instagram post with pictures of her and Jill’s niece Maeve together 😭 I’m in a puddle on the floor rn

[the-wanderer16]

The girls on their way to Mexico 🇲🇽✈️

[katelynnwrites]

fc barcelona femení celebrating their back to back champions’ league win, 26/5/24

[talkingwoso]

Outfit check 😎

[helen-with-an-a]

I am an adult pt 6

Hiiiii. I just wanna say thank you so much for everyone's support and love while writing this series - it means so much to me. This part was very easy to write but also emotionally draining ahahaha. Ik I did a poll and a lot of people said they wanted 1 really long fic, but I've split it into 2 halves instead cos it was so long! Also a massive shout out to @lyak12 who helped me a lot with the plot and hyped me up- forehead smooches for u. Anyways, I hope you enjoy.

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 3.5 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Part 6 : Part 7 : Epilogue

Barça Femeni x reader / Lena Oberdorf x Reader

Description: R faces the consequences of her actions

TW: It's very emotional and hints of R's bad mental health

Word Count: 6.6k

You genuinely had no idea how you ended up at the beach. One moment, you were in the changing rooms with your life falling apart around you – your shattered dreams and splintered relationships crashing to the ground. And then you were on a quiet bench near the sea wall, legs tucked under your chin as you sat silently, broken in so many ways.

The gentle breeze carried the tangy scent of saltwater, mingling with the faint aroma of sunscreen and something fried wafting from a nearby snack stand. The waves relentlessly lapping at the shore rhythmically, the repetitive sound a soothing melody to help you drift away in the stillness. Time seemed to blur as you stared out at the vast expanse of the sea, lost in the chaos that was your mind.

You didn’t need to look up when you felt a presence standing next to you. You felt the bench dip as they sat down, not bothering to speak. You stayed silent for a very long time. You had no idea how long you had been there – minutes, hours, perhaps even longer. But as the bright blue sky began to shift into a blaze of fiery oranges, soft pinks, and deep purples, you realised that it had been long enough for the day to give way to the dark blues of the evening. A lone tear trekked down your cheek; you didn’t bother wiping it away.

“They hate me,” you finally said. You heard your companion sigh quietly, a sound filled with empathy and understanding.

“They’re scared,” Esmee countered, her voice soft and soothing. You didn’t respond, the weight of your thoughts drowning out the gentle reassurances offered.

"I fucked up," you admitted after a few too many minutes, the rawness of your confession cutting through the silence. It was Esmee’s turn to be quiet, her expression a mixture of compassion and thoughtfulness.

“We all make mistakes,” she said after a beat, her words a gentle reminder. Well, that was the most Esmee response ever. You turned to look at her, the fading light casting shadows across her face.

“This was more than just a mistake.” you insisted, your voice sounding weak and far away.

“You were hurt. You needed comfort. Something that you couldn’t find in Barcelona.” Her words hung in the air between you.

“I hurt them,” you said resolutely.

“Yes, you did. But I don’t think you meant to.” You could always count on Esmee to offer the truth. Some people thought she sugar-coated things, but you always found that she just said things in a way that was honest yet kind.

You fell back into silence, both of you looking out to the horizon. You had no thoughts wandering across your mind. No voice in your head or niggling feelings. You were just numb. It could have been minutes or hours; you weren’t sure.

“C’mon. Let’s go.” Esmee encouraged, standing up and offering her hand.

“I, um,” you cleared your throat. “I don’t have my keys or anything.” You looked up at her with big, wide eyes.

“That’s ok,” she smiled.

The silence in the changing rooms was deafening, broken only by the sound of shallow breathing. No one dared move. The only noise was the door clicking softly shut behind you.

“Qué quiso decir? Por qué no le renuevan el contrato?” It was Martina who was brave enough to speak up. Bruna looked up from her intense stare at her boots. All of the younger girls' eyes fell on Alexia. She was their captain, and they needed her to navigate these choppy waters. Alexia blinked. No one had mentioned the possibility of the club not extending your contract. She knew you were able to go on a free at the end of this season, but she had assumed you would sign for Barça again, at least for a year or so. When she had seen those pictures of you in Germany, she thought something had looked a little off. Even through the pixels, you looked so … distant. You clearly did not look comfortable there. At first, she chalked it up to nerves about meeting your new teammates and guilt that you were caught in the act. But now … now she wasn’t so sure. There was a tightness to your face, your usually bright and animated eyes looked clouded, and a subtle sadness in your posture.

“N-no sé.” Alexia breathed, clearly dazed.

“Ella no puede irse.” Vicky insisted. You and Vicky had a unique bond, one that often drove the older girls insane with your misbehaviour.

“She doesn’t have a choice.” Kiera reminded her softly, bringing an arm up to comfort the youngster. “A club doesn’t have to offer anyone an extension if they don’t want to, for whatever reason. Y/N has to leave Barcelona if she wants to play football next season.” Keira had always been a voice of reason in the team; she always had an great understanding of the dynamics at play both on and off the pitch.

“Pero … por qué?” Vicky looked around.

“I’m not sure,” Keira answered honestly.

“Ella no se está transfiriendo?”

“Not willingly,” Keira smiled weakly.

It wasn’t until you stepped through Esmee’s front door that you realised you'd never actually been to her place before. You weren’t the best of friends; she usually hung out with Aitana, Ingrid, and Frido – the quieter girls on the team, quite the contrast to the lively bunch you, Cata, Pina, and Ona could be. Her flat was distinctly Esmee: neat and tidy but with a warm, inviting atmosphere. The shelves were littered with pictures of friends and family, and the walls were filled with colourful art. Her couch looked cosy, with a soft green throw draped artistically over the back. “Do you want some tea?” she asked kindly, smiling as she gestured to the kitchen. You returned her smile with a soft nod. Why was she being so nice to you? You had been a raging arsehole and deserved nothing but the harsh words Lucy had hurled your way.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I told the others you’re with me,” she said apologetically, handing you a steaming mug. You nodded again, your heart sinking a little. “They aren’t going to come round, at least not tonight.” Was Esmee a mind reader? How else would she know you were anxious about them coming over?

“How did you find me?” You asked sometime later. It had stumbled across your mind when she first appeared next to you.

“You mentioned that you like to go to the beach to think.” Have you mentioned that? “After training, I drove along the front until I saw you.”

You stared into your refilled mug; the steam curled upwards and danced in front of you. “I didn’t know you knew that,” you murmured. “I didn’t think anyone knew that.” It was true; you don’t think you had ever mentioned the long walks along the beach you liked to take in the early hours when you couldn’t sleep. The fresh air helped clear your mind, the movement of your body helped to get the blood flowing again, and the peaceful nature helped soothe your soul.

Esmee shrugged, a gentle smile on her lips. “I notice people.” Her words hung in the air between you, warm and comforting like the tea you held. You glanced up at her, feeling a flicker in your chest.

“Thank you,” you whispered sincerely. She nodded back at you, settling back against the sofa, sipping on her own mug.

Ona was conflicted. On one hand, she was immensely relieved that you were safe. You weren’t lying dead in a ditch somewhere or injured and in a coma, unable to identify yourself to anyone. The scenarios that had been playing in her mind for days were far worse than the reality. She had been losing sleep, haunted by the fear that something terrible had happened to you. Knowing you were okay was a weight off her shoulders. But on the other hand, a heavy sense of betrayal gnawed at her. You hadn't trusted her enough to tell her anything. She thought about all the times you had confided in each other, sharing secrets and dreams and comforting each other during tough times. She was your best friend, the one who had always been there for you. And yet, you ran a thousand miles away without a word, without a hint of where you were going or why.

The hurt she felt was deep and raw. How could you not have trusted her with your plans? Why didn't you believe she would understand or help you through this? Her mind swirled with questions and doubts, each one cutting deeper than the last. She wanted to be happy that you were safe, but the sting of your secrecy made it hard to fully embrace that relief. The bond you shared felt strained, and she couldn’t shake the feeling of abandonment.

And now you had disappeared again. When she finally stepped foot on the pitch, she had thought you would have been there too, waiting for training to start. But you were nowhere to be found. Ona scanned the field, her eyes darting from one familiar face to another, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. Her heart sank with each passing moment. The coach blew the whistle, signalling the start of practice, but her mind was elsewhere. She couldn't focus, the worry gnawing at her insides. It must have been one of the worst training sessions she had had in a long time.

She had broken one of Alexia’s steadfast rules – no phones at training. Ona checked her phone obsessively, hoping for a message or a missed call from you. Nothing. The knot in her stomach tightened. She wondered if something had happened again or if you had chosen to vanish this time without a trace, leaving everyone behind to worry and speculate. Her phone buzzed.

Esmee: I’ve found her. She’s safe. I’ll bring her back to mine when she’s ready. E

She could have cried. She was fairly sure she had. Relief washed over her, mingling with the painful ache of betrayal. At least you were safe, and that was the most important thing. As she stood there, clutching her phone, Ona resolved to be patient. She would give you the space you needed, but she would also be there, ready to listen, when you were finally ready to talk.

You woke up the next morning in just as much of a daze. It took you a moment to realise you were on Esmee’s couch, the unfamiliar surroundings disorienting you even further. You hadn’t slept well. You tossed and turned as much as possible on the small couch, the spare bedding Esmee gave you tucked up around your chin. When you did sleep, it wasn’t much better; the nightmares that your mind dreamed up made you even more tired than before.

The quiet chatter from the kitchen pulled you from your not-quite sleep. “That’s up to her to say, Mapí,” Esmee said softly. You could imagine her face, the small apologetic smile and pinched eyebrows.

“Pero... sólo quiero saber, por qué? Ella de dijo algo anoche?” Mapí implored further. Of course, Mapí would be grilling Esmee. You could see her arms moving around as she spoke.

“Min skjønnhet, stop bugging Esmee” Ingrid cut in. You could envisage Ingrid’s soft smile and gentle hand moving comfortingly across Mapí’s shoulders.

“No, mi corazón. Necesito saber por qué se fue del puto país en lugar de hablar con nosotras.” she all but shouted, a guilty look flashing across her face as she registered her volume.

“María.” You didn’t need to be in the room to see Ingrid’s unimpressed look.

“Mapí, I’m not going to betray her trust like that. I found her, I took her home, she stayed the night. Ask her yourself.” You had never heard Esmee sound so tough. Your heart swelled at the thought of her protecting you. Sitting up slowly, you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and listened more intently.

Mapí sighed, the sound of a chair scraping back as she sat down. “Aunque estoy muy enojado con ella. No creo que pueda hablar con ella sin gritar.”

“I know,” Ingrid reassured her, her voice softer now but still firm.

You took a deep breath, gathering the courage to finally face them. The floor felt cool beneath your feet as you walked towards the kitchen, the soft murmurs of their conversation growing louder.  As you entered the kitchen, three pairs of eyes turned to you. For a moment, no one spoke. The air was thick with unspoken words and raw emotions. Mapí stood up, her movements hesitant. “Por qué te fuiste sin decir nada?” Her voice was trembling, and you could see the effort it took for her to keep her tone steady.

You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice. “I...” you took a deep breath. “I don’t know. I just needed out,” you confessed.

“Y pensaste que desaparecer sin decir una palabra era la mejor manera de hacerlo.?” Mapí’s frustration was evident, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. You had no words. You had no reason, no excuse for your behaviour.

Ingrid stepped forward, her face a mask of disappointment. “Do you have any idea what you put us through? We were worried sick, thinking something terrible had happened to you.”

“No puedes simplemente huir de tus problemas y dejar que nosotros recogamos los pedazos.” Mapí added

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at each of them, their disappointment bearing down on you, crushing you. You had never felt so small, so utterly ashamed of yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, the words barely audible through your tears. “I never meant to hurt any of you. I was just... overwhelmed. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“We understand that you were struggling, but that doesn’t excuse what you did. We’re your friends, and we deserve better than to be left in the dark like that.” Ingrid sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “We care about you, but you need to understand that your actions have consequences. You can’t just expect us to forgive and forget.”

“I don’t expect you to.” You refused to meet her eyes, gaze fixed firmly on the tabletop. “I really am sorry,” you whispered out, blinking rapidly to try to stop the tears. Feeling the weight of their words settling heavily on your shoulders, you knew you had a long road ahead of you, one filled with apologies and making amends.

Alexia couldn’t allow herself to feel all the emotions she was feeling. She had to be the strong one, for the team, the one who held everyone together when everything seemed to be falling apart. But deep down, behind the facade of strength she presented to the world, she was crumbling. Fear, anger, and grief churned inside her, threatening to consume her whole. She wanted to scream, to cry, to lash out at the unfairness of it all. But she couldn’t. She had to keep it together ... for the sake of those who depended on her.

Her training was one of the best she had ever done. She focused solely on the ball at her feet. Her passes were stronger, her shoots were faster, her tackles harsher. Each movement was driven by a mix of determination and frustration. Yet, no matter how much she threw herself into her sport, the ache in her heart remained. The weight of your absence hung heavy in the air, a constant reminder of the betrayal she felt. You had received some terrible news. News that had blindsided you into fleeing the country. And you hadn’t confided in her. That was what made her the most … angry wasn’t the right word. Sure, she was so incredibly angry with you for running away. Even when you had all the legal trouble last year, she had never been this angry with you. But now that anger mixed with pain. You had begged her, pleaded with her to treat you more like an adult. And the first thing you had done when times had gotten tough you had acted like a child. Rather than asking for help, reaching out to those around you … those who loved you like family … you had fled. No word, no explanation, no nothing. You left. You left the team. You left her.

As she sat in the solitude of her car, the weight of your actions bore down on her like a heavy burden. The betrayal cut deep, slicing through the layers of friendship and trust she had built with you over the years. She wanted to understand, to offer you comfort and support in your time of need. But the hurt ran too deep, leaving behind a bitter taste of resentment and disappointment. How could you have kept such a monumental thing from her? Had she made you think you couldn’t come to her? Why? Why? Why? The questions swirled in her mind, unanswered and unresolved, adding to the confusion already in her heart.

Esmee graciously drove you back to the training ground to retrieve your belongings. Grateful that it was only an afternoon session, you silently thanked the heavens for the deserted car park. It was eerie, walking through the silent corridors and into the empty changing rooms. You tried very hard to not think about the events of yesterday, focusing on the speckled flooring and the wooden benches as you dug through your bag to get your keys. You would be back that afternoon, so the kit could stay in your locker for now. Your phone was dead, unsurprisingly, but you knew Lena would have spammed you in the meantime.

Returning home felt surreal. Evidence of someone's presence lingered—dishwasher humming, blankets neatly folded. The thought of Ona or Alexia, perhaps tidying in anticipation of your return, tugged at your heart. The house, once brimming with life, now felt suffocatingly empty. Each room echoed with your absence, the memories of laughter and warmth now hauntingly distant. Moving through the familiar spaces, you felt like a ghost, your steps muted by the plush carpet beneath you. Every corner held a fragment of the life you would have to leave behind, each one a bittersweet reminder of what once was. Yet, as you moved from room to room, a sense of disconnection enveloped you, as if you were a stranger peering into a life that no longer belonged to you.

Your phone buzzed, and buzzed, and buzzed. Lena’s texts were coming through.

L💚: How was it?

L💚: Did u speak to them?

L💚: Is everything ok?

L💚: Schatz?

Missed call from L💚

L💚: Helloooooooo

L💚: Schatz?

Missed call from L💚

Missed call from L💚

L💚: Ur really scaring me

L💚: Schatz ????

Missed call from L💚

Missed call from L💚

L💚: Please

Missed call from L💚

L💚: Bitte

Missed call from L💚

Missed call from L💚

L💚: WHY THE FUCK HAS ALEXIA JUST TEXTED ME TO TELL ME U DIDN’T TELL THEM U WERE IN GERMANY????????

L💚: PLEASE TELL ME U TOLD THEM U HAD LEFT THE FUCKING COUNTRY

L💚: WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

Missed call from L💚

Missed call from L💚

Missed call from L💚

L💚: Y/N !!!!!!!

Missed call from L💚

Missed call from L💚

Missed call from L💚

Missed call from L💚

L💚: ANSWER THE FUCKING PHONE

Missed call from L💚

Missed call from L💚

L💚: PHONE ME !!!!!!!!!!!!!

The last message dated from only 30 minutes ago.

Incoming call from L💚

“Schatz, what the actual fuck?” Lena almost shouted down, the Facetime picking up her distress.

“I … I …” you felt a tear escape. “Fuck,” you said, harshly wiping it away.

“This makes me look so bad. Do you get that?” You did get that. To the team, she was now the girlfriend that aided and abetted your horrific actions. “I know. And I’m so, so sorry, Leibe,” you whispered, your voice breaking with emotion.

“Why? Why didn’t you tell them?” she questioned again.

“I wasn’t thinking. I needed … out. I needed to get away. And it was all so fast and …” your explanation trailed off, a weak defense against her justified questioning.

"That's not good enough, Schatz. They're your friends. Did you think they wouldn't care? Did you think they wouldn't help? I'm trying to understand," Lena's tone softened slightly.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “I fucked up massively. And I have no explanation for any of it.”

Lena let out a frustrated sigh, her features creased with concern. “You can't run away from your problems, Schatz.”

“I know,” you said, the guilt weighing heavily on your heart. “And I promise I'll do better. I'll make things right, I swear.”

“Wirst du das tun, wenn wir jemals streiten? Wirst du auch einfach verschwinden?” Lena's voice trembled with uncertainty, her fear palpable.

“No, never,” you replied immediately, the sincerity in your voice echoing through the connection. “I won't ever leave you. I promise, Lena. I love you.” Lena scrutinised you for a moment, searching for truth in your eyes. Finally, a glimmer of hope flickered in hers.

“Okay ... just promise me you won't shut me out like that. We're supposed to be a team, remember?” Lena implored. You nodded earnestly. “And make this right with the team. You can’t leave like this, especially not with Ona and Alexia.”

Lucy's fury surged like a tidal wave, threatening to engulf her and everything around her. Never before had she felt such a consuming anger, a tempest of emotions raging within her. How dare you, she seethed inwardly, her clenched fists trembling with unrestrained fury. The words reverberated in her mind like a relentless echo, each syllable fuelling the fire of her indignation.

The betrayal cut deep, slicing through the bonds of trust with surgical precision. How could you drop that absolute bomb of information on the team and then just leave? The question echoed in Lucy's mind, a refrain of disbelief and betrayal. Her chest heaved with the unspoken words, the air thick with the tension of unresolved anger.

Every fibre of Lucy's being screamed for justice, for retribution against you, who had callously shattered their trust. The image of Ona’s face burned in her mind like a brand, a scar etched into her memory. She had looked so scared, so fragile and raw. But beneath the raging storm of anger, there lurked a profound sense of hurt, a painful vulnerability that threatened to consume her. How could you do that to everyone? Did they mean nothing to you? Did Ona mean so little to you? The wounds of betrayal ran deep. Lucy found herself adrift in a sea of conflicting emotions, struggling to make sense of the chaos that had engulfed their once-unified team. The anger burned hot and fierce, a relentless inferno that threatened to consume her from within.

The changing rooms didn’t hold their usual pre-session chatter. There wasn’t a loud, bright atmosphere as people greeted each other and slipped into their workout gear. There was no gentle undercurrent of excitement for the day. Instead, it was spookily silent. A few low murmurs were uttered here and there as people passed, but there was no conversation, no high-fives, or laughter.

You had arrived at training early, hoping to avoid any awkwardness. As you entered, the stillness was almost suffocating. Mariona was the only other person there, her cubby positioned directly opposite yours. You both went about your routines in an awkward dance of avoidance, her presence a constant reminder of the tension that now defined the space. Seeking refuge, you slipped into the bathroom, deliberately taking longer than usual. The routine tasks of washing your hands, tying back your hair, and applying suncream felt almost meditative, a brief respite from the silence that awaited you.

Moving like passing ships in the night, you and Mariona drifted around each other, the silence punctuated only by the rustle of clothes and the soft thud of locker doors.

“Entiendo,” Mariona said suddenly, breaking the silence. Her voice was calm but firm, and your head whipped up in surprise. Her words hit you with the force of a confession, their gravity making you feel like she had just admitted to something far more serious. “I understand … I’m terrified, and I’m leaving voluntarily.” The admission hung in the air, starkly contrasting the heavy silence from earlier. “I can’t imagine what it's like for you.” A lump formed in your throat as you struggled to find the right words.

"I didn’t mean to hurt anyone," you whispered, your voice barely audible. The weight of your words was palpable, each syllable a testament to the regret you felt.

Mariona’s eyes softened, but the tension remained. “Yo sé eso.” You nodded at her words. Your mouth opened to say more, but you were interrupted by the door swinging open and Irene, Marta and Caro walking through the door. You snapped your mouth shut, dipping your head down and turning back to face your locker.

The trio's arrival brought with it a fresh wave of awkwardness. Their conversation, though low and cautious, filled the room with an attempt at normalcy. You focused on your locker, trying to steady your breathing, feeling the weight of their glances. Irene, always perceptive, gave you a fleeting look of concern but said nothing. Marta and Caro exchanged glances, sensing the tension but unsure how to address it.

Slowly, the rest of the team trickled in. It was obvious that you would be participating in this session in silence. No one made a move to talk to you, to even greet you. Not until they had the all-clear from Alexia. You waited until you were one of the final few in the room. Turning, you caught sight of Ona and Lucy whispering in the corner. Ona’s face was still slightly puffy, her eyes still red as she picked at her nails. Lucy’s lips were pressed into a thin, hard line, the corners turned downward in a scowl, her eyes flicking in your direction occasionally. Her body was taut, every muscle seemingly coiled and ready to spring. Shoulders squared and rigid, she stood with a stance that was both defensive and confrontational. Her hands balled into tight fists and trembled slightly with the force of her suppressed rage. Her breath was measured as if she was struggling to maintain control and not let the anger consume her entirely. You hurried out of the room, rushing to leave the couple to their conversation.

The training session was one of the most awkward and painful things you had ever experienced. You stood quietly, tucked away at the end of the line, as Jona started the warmups. Trying to avoid drawing any attention to yourself, you focused intensely on the basics: placing one foot in front of the other, the rhythm of your breathing, the movement of your body. You hoped this would keep your mind occupied and distract you from the palpable tension around you.

When it came time for partner work, you found yourself lingering silently, waiting for a few uncomfortable moments before turning to the trainers. With an odd number of outfield players, someone had to be paired with one of the staff. Today, it seemed like that someone would be you. It wasn't the arrangement itself that bothered you; rather, it was the underlying implications. There was an air of exclusion that hung heavy in the atmosphere, making you feel like an outsider in what was supposed to be a team activity. The most unbearable part of it all was the not-so-subtle looks being thrown your way. It was clear that people were talking about you during the water breaks. Jana would frequently glance in your direction, only to be slapped on the arm by Pina as if reminding her to be discreet. Vicky appeared to take a tentative step toward you, possibly to offer some form of solidarity but was quickly redirected by Bruna, who nudged her in another direction. These interactions left you feeling isolated and self-conscious. Every whispered conversation, every sideways glance, seemed to amplify your sense of alienation. You could almost hear the silent judgments. This wasn't just a training session; it was a stark reminder of your outsider status, of how much damage you had done.

The scrimmage at the end was no better. Thankfully, Jona had made the teams for the final 7 v 7. Was it karma that he had placed you on the left wing with Lucy as the opposing right-back? Maybe. But you couldn’t deny that you deserved every shove, every tackle that she gave you. She seemed to be toeing the line between unprofessionalism carefully. She never left a lasting mark on you, but you could tell each push was personal.

As the exercise progressed, Lucy's aggression became more evident. She was relentless, pressing you harder than she did anyone else on the field. Each time she shouldered you off the ball or slid in with a perfectly timed tackle, you could feel the underlying animosity. It wasn’t just about winning the ball; it was about sending a message. If it were a normal day, a day when you hadn’t messed up so unbelievably badly, you would have shoved back or shouted a little. But you couldn’t do that. Today, you were paying for your mistakes, and Lucy was more than willing to collect.

So, you took it. Every time you were sent to the ground, you didn’t question it. You didn’t wait for the whistle to be blown or hope that someone would extend a hand to help you back up. Instead, you popped back up, shook yourself off, and continued like nothing was wrong like your whole life wasn't crumbling around you. Each time you hit the grass, the sting of the impact seemed to echo your emotional bruises. But you refused to show it. You forced yourself to remain strong. You could break down again later. You pushed through the scrimmage with grim determination, aware of the eyes on you, aware of the judgment, but unwilling to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing you break.

Despite the bruises and the rough treatment, you managed to stay on your feet more than you had thought you would do. You moved through the motions, running up and down the small pitch, crossing balls into the box, and tracking back on defence. But every action felt hollow, your mind a swirl of what-ifs and if-onlys. The final whistle came as a relief, yet also with a sense of dread. You knew the real battle was far from over. As Jona dismissed you for the day, you helped the trainers collect the equipment, hoping to delay your return and allow the others time to leave peacefully.

As you walked through the main doors back into the building, you noticed Alexia. Standing strong and unimpressed, leaning against the wall. You went to speak but thought better of it, nodding once and smiling uneasily instead. As you moved to walk past her, she stopped you, a warm hand wrapping around your wrist.

“Nosotras necesitamos hablar.” Her voice was sharp, a firmness that was hardly ever directed at you … not since the trouble from last year. You nodded, your voice unable to work.

You followed her through the maze of corridors until you reached a seldom-used meeting room. Was it a coincidence that it was the same room you had the meeting with the State Officials in and first told them about Lena? Maybe, but you wouldn’t put it past Alexia to have chosen it specifically. “Sentarse.” Her voice held a harshness to it that cut through you like a knife. You deserve this. You deserve this. You hurt her. You hurt everyone.

“Since you wanted to be treated like an adult, we will talk like adults.” You nodded. God, why couldn’t you speak? It wasn’t like you hadn’t been in trouble before. Maybe it was because this was such a personal mistake. When you hadn’t completed the forms on time, yes, it had been your fault as you were the person responsible, but there was a somewhat clear-cut way to fix it. It was laid out for you. But this … this was something you needed to navigate like an adult. No one was going to help you this time.

Alexia pointed to a chair, and she pulled out her own. “Explicar.” Her command was simple, really. But where could you begin? Where should you start? You were clearly taking too long. Alexia huffed, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow at you. You sank into the chair, feeling the weight of her gaze bearing down on you. How could you explain the mess you had made? The knots in your stomach tightened as you struggled to find the right words. Despite your best efforts, your breath quickened, and your fingers had a mind of their own as they started to pick at the dry skin around your nails.

"I... I don't … I don’t know … where to start," you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. Alexia's expression softened ever slightly, but her impatience was palpable. She had never seen you look so young. Even when you were in the hell that was the legal trouble last year, or the wide-eyed teen that turned up on her doorstep at the request of the club, with a single suitcase and a dream.

"Just start from the beginning," she urged, her tone imperceptively gentler now. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves.

“I got a phone call from Paul … my agent,” you swallowed, staring harshly into the table, refusing to meet Alexia’s eye or even look in her general direction. “He said he had just got back from a meeting with the club.” You stuck to the facts, no emotions, no elaborations, just facts. You couldn’t … wouldn’t … cry if you stuck to the simple facts. “He said they couldn’t afford to keep me next season.” You stopped.

It was clear to Alexia that that was as much as you could say about the situation without breaking. You were so similar in that way. Both of you refused to cry in front of someone else, not unless you were truly comfortable and perfectly safe around them. Did you not feel safe around her anymore? Had she broken your relationship? No, she stopped those thoughts in their tracks. You had broken the relationship, you, not her … then why did she feel like she was to blame, at least partially?

Alexia watched you carefully, her heart aching at the sight of your pain. She wanted to reach out ... to comfort you. No. She held herself back. She knew that now wasn't the time for softness, not when there were hard truths that needed to be faced. “What about Germany?” Her voice was still icy, cutting through the heavy silence like a knife. What about Germany? Germany was where Lena was. Germany was safe. Germany had Lena. You took another steadying breath, pushing down everything that was threatening to overwhelm you.

“Lena phoned me. She said either I went to her or she came to me. She had the Pokal final, so I went to her.” Another pause. “I needed to think. To breathe. To …” you trailed off. You let out a shaky breath, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“Todavía no entiendo.” She admitted after a moment. You nodded, biting your lip so hard that you started to taste blood. A tear plopped onto the wooden table in front of you, another one joining quickly afterwards. “Por qué … why didn’t you tell someone? Anyone?” Alexia's question pierced through the haze of your thoughts, demanding an answer you weren't sure you had. Why hadn’t you done that? You honestly had no explanation for it. You just needed out. Out of your house. Out of Barcelona. Out of Spain. Every time you looked at your phone, all the emotions came flooding back like a tsunami. So, you didn’t look.

“I don’t know,” you croaked, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own racing heartbeat.

“Eso no es lo suficientemente bueno.” Alexia's words were severe, a reminder that there would never be a good enough reason to justify your actions. You knew that. You knew that there would never be an excuse that could erase the hurt you had caused. You nodded. “Mírame,” she demanded after a moment. Your head remained down, but your eyes drifted up.

Alexia looked in pain. Not the physical pain – you had seen the uncomfortable look she had when she had tweaked her knee again or the scrunch of her eyebrows when an opposing player left her mark on her. This was different. This was emotional pain, etched into the lines of her face, shadowing the brightness of her eyes. As you watched her struggle to contain her emotions, the guilt pierced your heart tenfold. Your actions had caused her pain ... had shattered the fragile peace she had worked so hard to maintain. “Por qué no viniste a mí?” Once she asked that initial question, the floodgates opened. “No querías que te ayudara? I could have done something. I could have spoken to the club or something, anything. Em culpes?” She finished her sentence in Catalan. She thought you blamed her? You didn’t know what to say. The dam broke. Hot, fat tears rolled in a steady stream down your face.

“Never, Alexia. Never. I never, ever blamed you. I promise. It’s not your fault. It’s on me, it’s all on me. I’m not good enough for the club. For anyone. Of course, they want to renew you and Lucy over me. You deserve it so much more than me. This isn’t anyone’s fault but mine.” It was a mismatch of languages. Some sentences in English, some in Spanish and Catalan, and others in German. “I fucked up so badly. I don’t even know what I was thinking. I … I couldn’t ... I needed to … I don’t even know. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. You don’t deserve any of this. I fucked up so horrifically.” Alexia had never seen you so upset. It was clear she needed to intervene when she noticed your breathing quickening. You were hyperventilating now, apologies still streaming from your mouth. With a gentle hand, she reached out and placed it on your trembling shoulder. She didn’t think you even noticed it.

“Cariño. Breathe.” She instructed. Eventually, you slowed down, your breathing and heart rate returning to a more normal level. “Thank you for apologising,” she said when you had fully calmed down. “I’m not going to lie and say that I’m not hurt. And I’m not quite ready to forgive you. But I think there is more to this story than just you. You should not have been blindsided like that by the club. But your actions …” You nodded.

“I truly am sorry, Ale, um, Alexia.” You really wanted to hug her, but you knew you weren’t quite forgiven enough for that yet. She stood, offering a weak smile to you as she left the room, leaving you to your own thoughts.

I hope you enjoyed <3<3<3<3

[pitchsidestories]

Pizza girl II Barcelona Femení x Teen!Reader

masterlist I word count: 2180

summary: You were raised through La Masia, but you still feel anxious, before your first game for the Barcelona Femeni A team. Luckily a team bonding evening with your teammates help to ease your anxiety.

a/n: hi, it's inspired by this request here. We really enjoyed writing this. Let us know if you'd read more platonic fanfics from us.

Sometimes you still felt the urge to pinch you. Training with the Barcelona Femeni A Team on a regular basis was like a dream come true for you.

Growing up in the Catalonian hills, Barcelona and the famous team seemed very far away until after a game someone reached out to your parents, telling them that you were a raw diamond which could be polished in La Masia.

It wasn’t easy for them to let you go, but they knew that all you ever wanted to do was to play football and it was a place where great players have started their career.

A few years have passed since the decision was made. You almost didn’t recognize the shy, little girl from her hometown village you were once. A piece of her was still in your sixteen-year-old heart. The anxiousness in your body came from her.

“Y/n.”, Alexia looked at you concerned, putting a hand on your shoulder.

For a second you were confused where you were until you remembered you were sitting on the bench in the changing room.

“Yes?”, you replied, there was a tiredness in your voice which didn’t get unnoticed by your captain.

“Are you okay?”, the midfielder asked worriedly.

“I’m just a little nervous before our match tomorrow.”, you admitted.

“We could tell. So, we have something for you.”, she replied, a warm smile dancing on her lips.

“You did? Wait, for me?”, you nervously ran a hand through your open, damp hair.

“Yes, we’ll meet tonight at my place.”, Alexia told you.

“Uhm, I thought I might do some extra training.”, you tried to brush of her kind offer. Desperate to prove that despite your anxiety you deserved to play the upcoming game.

“Oh, no.”, Salma shook her head.

“No chance, you’ll come with us.”, Vicky who was closest to your age decided grinning devilishly.

“Yes, this will be good for you.”, Esmee smiled encouragingly at you.

“We’ll make pizzas and I know you love them, so you can’t say no.”, Alexia explained the plan for the evening.

“Okay, I’ll come.”, you answered, wondering deep inside if relaxing was a better idea than exercising. On the other hand, maybe seeing your teammates would stop your thoughts from running wild. You knew it was especially bad when you were all alone in your room.

“Great.”, the blonde nodded, visibly satisfied.

“See you tonight, then?”, you looked up to her.

“Yes, we’ll see you later, it’s going to be good.”, she chirmed.

On your way home you realized that the midfielder has send you the time and place for the team bonding night. Your fear to arrive to late made you stand in front of Alexias appartement door five minutes to early, you knocked at the door nervously.

“Hi Ale.”, you greeted her, licking your lips anxiously.  

The older player seemed genuinely happy to see you and immediately pulled you into a quick hug: “Hi y/n. Come on in.“

Politely smiling, she took a step back to let you in.

You held your breath as you took in her modern stylish apartment. “Thanks for the invite.“, you mumbled.

Alexia led you towards the kitchen: “Oh, you’re welcome. It’s always great to see our young talents come through the ranks so we got to make sure to welcome them with open arms.“

“Thats very sweet of you. It’s a dream that I’m able to play in a team with the Alexia Putellas.“, you replied. You wanted to keep your cool but somehow you failed to keep the awe out of your voice.

“Oh please. I once was as young as you are now… Remember, we all start somewhere.“, she said with a dismissive hand gesture.

You could feel the blood rush into your cheeks: “I know but…“

“But?“

“It’s still big.“

“Of course.“

You almost sighed in relief when the door bell rang

“Oh, that’s probably the others.“, Alexia nodded to herself and disappeared to let her guests in.

You bit your lip. Why were you being so awkward?

“Hi, girls!“, you hear her greet them from across the room.

Onas voice replied: “Hi, Ale.“

Lucy was the first one in the kitchen, winking at you to say hello while still talking to the captain: “We brought some toppings for the pizza.“

She put a bag down on the table.

Alexia looked at her with a mixture of disbelief and disgust: “Do you really think I wasn’t prepared for my own pizza night?“

“Yeah, Lucy didn’t trust you with that.“, Ona shrugged, smiling innocently at the midfielder.

Alexia rolled her eyes: “Typical.“

You followed the interaction with amusement until Lucy turned to you: “So we obviously had to make a little stop at the market. Try the tomatoes, y/n. They’re delicious.“

Lucy moved around in Alexias kitchen like it was her own, cutting you a sliece of a juicy red tomato.

You popped it in your mouth. It was sweet and flavourful. “Delicious!“

“Right?“

“Yes, I love them.“, you beamed.

More football player flooded the kitchen. You had not realized that Alexia had left again to let them in.

“Hey, everyone!“, Vicky called excitedly. For a second you felt the slight sting of jealousy. You were almost the same age, but she moved around the team like they have been friends forever. You hoped that it would be like this for you too soon.

She came over to hug you, her curls tickling on your skin and the jealousy was gone: “Vicky, hi.“

“And? Kind of cozy here, right?“, she grinned at you.

You took the scene of Alexias kitchen in. Drinks were on the table while a few players started to prepare the ingredients for the pizza and others were working on the dough.

It was a mess but somehow you felt very at peace. “It’s.“, you smiled.

“I hope you think so.“, Alexia raised an eyebrow at you as she walked past you, always the busy hostess.

While you all were in the process of creating cute and aesthetically pleasing pizzas you took all your courage to ask a question which has been burning on your tongue during the whole evening.

“Girls, how do you handle anxiety before big matches?”

Every player stopped moving around for a moment, thinking about the ask you just dropped. It was clear to them that it came from your heart and was something weighing heavily on your young shoulders.

“I don’t even know what that is.” Lucy joked, she immediately got elbowed by her smaller girlfriend.

“Lucy be honest.”, Ona demanded.

“Yeah, okay. Even us oldies get nervous at times. Right Ale?”, the older defender shrugged before turning around to face the blonde.

“Of course, I was very nervous when I came back from my ACL.”, she admitted earnestly.

“Understandable.”, Ona nodded empathetically.

“Oh yes.”, you whispered.

“Everyone is nervous before their first game for the biggest club in the world.”, Salma agreed solemnly.

 “You all make it look so easy.”, you remarked. Memories from Vicky’s and her breakthrough were playing behind your eyes.

“It’s not.”, Alexia assured you calmly.

“But we’re here for you.”, Aitana promised in an encouragingly tone.  

“Exactly, we’re all supporting you.”, Ona added, giving you a side hug.

“Everyone is so cute here.”, you teared up, their unwavering support made you emotional.

“Oh, we know.”, Salma waved it off nonchalantly.

“Please don’t cry, that floor was expensive.”, Alexia threw in teasingly.

“Oh, sorry.”, you quickly apologized.

“Alexia.”, Olga who came to the kitchen from work scolded her girlfriend.

“Sorry, y/n. But you know that I was only joking, right?”, the captain sheepishly smiled at you. It was always a miracle for you to watch the midfielder’s stern and serious face which she showed in matches and training change in the presence of the woman she loved.

“Typical, Ale.”, Lucy rolled her eyes playfully at her.

“I was suspecting it.”, you muttered.

“I promise you’ll used to her jokes.”, Vicky hugged you from behind, resting her head on your left shoulder.

“I hope so.”, you laughed insecurely.

“Pizzas are ready, we can go to the balcony now.”, Alexia announced. She and Olga took charge of getting everything which was needed at its rightful place. The delicious scent of freshly baked goods filled the room and was still noticeably outside.

For a moment you took everything in, the golden hour had begun and the view of the city from the appartement building was gorgeous.

“Wow, what a great sight.”, you mumbled deeply impressed.

Alexia smiled, clearly enjoying the sight of her beloved city once again: “It’s nice, right?“

“It’s beautiful.“, you agreed, finally tearing your gaze away from the view and looking down at your heart shaped pizza.

“Stop bragging, Putellas!“, Lucy called from the other side of the balcony, rolling her eyes.

“Excuse me? I’m just showing the little one that her future looks golden!“, Alexia played offended as gestured towards the view from her balcony.

Lucy grimaced with a laugh: “If she’ll become La Reina 2.0. The rest of us can’t afford this.“

For a second you wondered how much of this was true but you had no time to think about it as Ona smirked: “Besides, she’s a defender. Just like us.“

“Another Bronze would be a nightmare for this team.“, Alexia grinned directly at the English defender.

Lucy jokingly frowned: “What’s that supposed to mean?“

“You know exactly what I mean.“

“No, I don’t.“

Ona interrupted their bickering with a proud smile: “Y/n is going to be her own version.“

Again, you could feel the heat rush back into your cheeks while Mapi ruffled your hair: “Exactly, no pressure on the little one.“

“She’s already puts enough pressure on herself.“, Esmee agreed.

Alexias eyes softened as she looked at you: “We’re just joking with her.“

“I slowly start to get your humour.“, you smiled back at her.

“That’s good.“

“This could be a wonderful start for you in the team.“, Ingrid said, ignoring Mapi trying to steal a slice of pizza from her plate.

Chewing, her girlfriend nodded: “We’ll make sure of that.“

The next day, you were actually subbed in for the first time. It was five more minutes plus stoppage time to play.

Still, your anxiety was gnawing at you. Your heartbeat was too fast and you felt that sinking feeling in your stomach.

That was until you looked up at your teammates who applauded you. Ona who was subbed off for you, pulled you into a quick hug.

You were still nervous but you were okay with it. Whatever happened, this team had your back.

In the last minute of stoppage time, you made a run towards the goal. Carolines cross from the left came perfectly. You cleanly headed it in.

What had just happened?

Wide-eyed, you turned to your teammates: “Have you seen that?“

“That was insane!“, Alexia cheered.

Ona shouted from the sideline: “Incredible, y/n!“

Lucy patted your head with a little more force than necessary: “We told you!“

“She did it her way though.“, Mapi said, looking like a proud parent.

“Guys…“, you protested. The attention was a bit too much now.

“What?“, Vickys voice asked while she jumped onto your back in celebration.

“Stop.“, you laughed, trying to shake her off.

Once you got rid of her, Esmee scooped you up into her arms and lifted you up: “No, we got to celebrate.“

“What are you doing?“, you giggled. You felt like a trophy being passed around.

“Not impressed by that lift? Oh wow.“, Esmee pouted as she set you back down.

“Thanks.”, you sung relieved before you locked eyes with Alexia who beamed at you.

“I’m proud of you, kid.”, the captain congratulated to, as she put you into a rough hug.

“Thank you, Ale.”, you mouthed forever gratefully to play along side such talented and legendary players, afterwards Alexia released you from her grip with a happy sigh.

“But remember you’re a defender first, y/n.”, Lucy threw in teasingly.

“Coming from you?”, you raised an eyebrow at her.

“Hey, don’t get sassy!”, the English defender yelled. She looked amused by your behaviour, because it reminded her of herself.

“Sorry.”, you apologized only half-serious.

“Come here!”, Lucy commanded while ruffling your hair.

“Stop that!”, you demanded giggling.

“Lucy, stop.”, Ona intervened chuckling.

“Thanks, Oni. Can I go and celebrate with my family now?”, you asked your teammates impatiently.

“Yes, go and celebrate.”, the Spanish defender nodded smiling warmly.

“Thank you, girls. For everything.”, you muttered deeply moved. You loved being a part of this team with every fibre of your being.

“Yeah, yeah, leave, before we all get too emotional.”, Lucy waved it off. But you were able to see through her coolness and pulled her into a big hug too.

“Alright, bye!”, you told them and when you started running to your parents who have made everything possible.

Although deep down you knew know you had a family away from home now in form of your teammates who even made the anxious times pass easier and the glorious moments so much richer.

[meazalykov]

mute

esmee brugts x reader

summary: you don't like talking, unless its to your love

warnings: short chapter

everyone in the community gave you a nickname, "mute."

you never talked unless you had to.

at barcelona, you were never chosen to give media interviews. all of the girls figured that you would hate being put in that situation.

of course, you talked to your teammates on a regular basis. after being with them for 2 years & 2 seasons, you’ve gotten comfortable with them.

none of your fans have ever heard you yell on the pitch. you would signal a pass or a move by using hand signals that all of the girls on the club & national level understand.

when you’re meeting fans, you gave your simple “hi” “it’s nice to meet you” “awe thank you”s and keep it pushing. always giving a smile so they’re aware that you’re just shy, not trying to be hollywood.

meeting esmee last year at the world cup, she asked for your jersey after your game against the netherlands.

you smiled, accepting her offer as she started to talk to you.

“hi— i wanted to talk to you because i am coming to barcelona next season.” esmee says after pulling your jersey over her head.

you smiled, remembering that ingrid told you about a dutch girl coming to barcelona.

“i heard about that! its nice to meet you esmee!” you say softly, smiling as she smiled at you back.

after eight months and more bonding, you guys started dating.

esmee is shy herself, so you were never overwhelmed with the possibility of having an extroverted partner.

at first, many people found it cute that you & esmee found comfort in eachother. the way your eyes lighted up when esmee walked into the room is something that your peers caught onto.

you seemed extroverted and sillier when she was around. esmee loved teasing you and you did the same back.

she was like your "unmute" button on a tv remote, according to cata. esmee had a special way of getting you to speak to her.

after a mallorca vacation, 1 year into your relationship, you were the first to say the three special words.

"I love you." you mumble, looking over at esmee in the drivers seat of the rented suv.

the dutch girl could've stopped the car at that moment, completely taken by surprise.

if anything, she thought that she would've been the first one to pull the "love" card, but no-- it was the quiet one in the relationship.

"I love you too, liefde." esmee smiled, taking your hand and squeezing it softly.

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

[wileys-russo]

go go power rangers

[coffee-adicta]

Esmee being an absolute menace ain't in my bingo book but I love it🤣

It's always the quiet ones being a shit-stirrer I see.

[pinkyqil]

Esmee back at it again I wouldn't be surprised if they happen to be married in secrets

She infact had something to say 🤣😭