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wosogf · 2 days ago

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the babysitter || irene paredes x reader

Summary: You've had a thing for Irene ever since you started babysitting for her. When she comes home after a night out with the team, you realize that your feelings might not be as one-sided as you thought they were. Pairing: Irene Paredes x Reader Words: 3,992 Warnings: 🔞, smut with plot Notes: I haven't written anything in quite awhile (I honestly wasn't planning on writing ever again but here we are), so this might be a little rough! Please don't hesitate to let me know (politely, please!) if you notice any horrible grammatical errors or notes to myself that I somehow forgot to take out. Do not post my works on Ao3. And I am horrible at titles.

You peek your head into the room once more, carefully easing the door open and, just as quickly, shut, once you determine that the toddler is definitely still asleep. It’s a habit you adopted after your friends began to have their own children, and one you’ve maintained for the kids you babysit. Tiptoeing back down the hallway, making sure to keep your footfalls as quiet as you can, you plop back down on the sofa, settling into the corner and taking a sip of your sparkling water, grabbing your novel and flipping it back open as you wait for the boy’s mother to return home.

It’s not that much later, only long enough for you to finish a single chapter of your book, before you hear the sound of the front door opening and closing, announcing Irene’s return from the Barcelona squad’s night out. You don’t get up from the couch, merely setting your novel aside and uncrossing your legs, letting one dangle off the cushions.

She enters the room quietly, the low heels she’d left the apartment in abandoned on the mat by the front door so they don’t click on the wood floors, and when you look up you can see the flush on her face. You're not sure if it's the result of the chilly evening air or of her night out, but either way it's enough to make you swallow around a lump in your throat. The top and pants she'd left the house in are just as enticing now as they were several hours ago, and you wonder as she walks further into the apartment how you manage to stay sane around her.

“Hola,” she says quietly, setting her purse down in the center of the coffee table and taking a seat beside you on the sofa, sighing in relief as she relaxes into the cushions after a long night out. Your heart, as it so often does in the presence of the older woman, skips a beat as she comes nearer to you.

“How was everything?”

“All good,” you reply, beginning to recount your evening with Mateo. As always, the toddler had been easy, listening to you as well as one could expect a two-year-old to, and had fallen asleep on the sofa halfway through an episode of Bluey, only stirring briefly when you carried him to bed.

“He ate most of his dinner,” you relay with a smile, shaking your head at the memory of how the toddler had wrinkled his nose at the "yucky green" you'd provided for him, far more enthusiastic about the special treat that was the chicken nuggets unearthed from the freezer. “We had a bit of a struggle with the veggies, but other than that he was a perfect angel, like always.”

Your words bring a smile to the older woman’s face, and you can’t help but stop in your tracks for a moment, transfixed by the way her lips perk upwards, faint lines around her eyes becoming visible. You’ve seen her take an extra minute in the bathroom more than once after you arrive in the evenings, trying to conceal the bags beneath her eyes or the smile lines beginning to form at the corners, but you think that each and every part of her face is a work of art.

You had no idea, when you first started babysitting for her, just how quickly your feelings for the older woman would grow. In the stolen moments at the beginning and end of the nights, before one of you walks out the door, you've learned more and more about Irene Paredes the person, not just the footballer, and something about her kept drawing you further and further in. You couldn't pinpoint it exactly, but you knew that you wanted her.

“Did you have a good night?”

Irene shrugs, shaking her head with a fond smile as she tells you about the Barcelona squad’s night out. She had mostly stayed on the sidelines alongside the other older players, keeping an eye on the girls closer to your own age as they enjoyed themselves, but Pina and Cata had managed to coax her and Alexia into having a drink and dance before she had excused herself.

The thought of Irene on the dance floor makes your heart pound, imagination beginning to run wild.

You’ve never been to Manuela’s, but from the way you’ve heard Irene describe it, there's absolutely no shortage of beautiful women. You know from the bits of information she’s given you that the Barcelona girls normally stick with one another, even while they’re out, but you’ve never been able to help yourself from wondering if any of the beautiful girls who frequent the club have tempted her enough that she’s taken one of them to her bed.

It's that thought, the unpleasant idea of her tangled between the sheets with a nameless, faceless girl from the club that makes your chest hurt. Before you fully notice what you're doing, you open your mouth and begin to speak, some jumbled mixture of thoughts spilling from between your traitorous lips.

"I mean if... If you ever wanted to stay out later... If someone..."

You trail off, clamping your lips shut as you realize just how inappropriate what you're implying is. You cringe, cursing yourself as you watch for her reaction, wait for her to get up off the couch and hand you your bags, let you know that now might be a good time for you to go home.

But she doesn't. Instead, all the older woman does is fix you with a questioning gaze, seemingly losing herself in thought for a moment.

She’s seated closer to you than she normally would be, than she ever has been before, and for a moment you wonder if she can hear your heart as it pounds in your chest, speeding up as she enters your space. You aren’t sure if it’s your imagination, the way her eyes seem to have fixed on you, tracing the details of your flushing face, eyes following your bottom lip as you nervously run your teeth over it.

“No,” she says at last. “None of the girls there have ever been who I wanted.”

Something about the word there catches your attention as it leaves her mouth, and you're certain that you must be losing your mind. Because there's no way, no way in the world that she wants you the way you want her.

The older woman reaches out and brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear, and you’re fairly certain that you’ve stopped breathing. Her hand pauses by your left cheek, which you're absolutely certain is flushing redder than the cap on her cherry flavored chapstick.

And suddenly, before you can even fully process the fact that her soft but strong hands are cupping your scarlet cheeks, the older woman is leaning forward and pressing her lips to yours.

You must have imagined this moment a thousand times, but never in your wildest dreams had you imagined it would actually come true. The older woman’s mouth is soft but insistent against your own, exploring your lips with hers, and every coherent thought you’ve ever had is a distant memory as you move with her, kissing her back.

Kissing Irene is even better than you imagined it would be - and you could fill a planner with the amount of times you’ve imagined this exact scenario. Her mouth is gentle, but there’s an edge to her kiss that contains a promise, the knowledge that she’s capable of being anything but.

When your lips finally part, after what feels like both an eternity and no time at all, you let out a little gasp, pupils blown wide as Irene stares into your eyes, both of you trying to process what has just happened. Even though she’s the one who kissed you first, Irene seems just as shocked as you are. But, behind her wide eyes is the same feeling you know she can easily spot in your own.

Desire.

“I… Fuck.”

You’re the one who leans forward this time, lips pressing against the older woman’s, the faint flavor of alcohol on her lips mixed with a hint of cherry from the chapstick you’ve seen her spread across her mouth more than once. The taste of her lips is intoxicating, and you can feel it going straight between your legs.

This kiss is deeper than the first, your arms wrapping around her strong shoulders to pull her closer, wanting to feel her body against your own. You part momentarily, gasping for air and only managing a brief breath before she’s kissing you again, every movement raising the stakes. You whine as her lips meet yours once more, hands coming to rest on your hips, pulling you closer. The older woman uses her own lips to pry yours open, her claiming tongue slipping into your mouth and beginning to explore further.

You let her take control of the kiss without protest, the arousal between your thighs intensifying exponentially with every second her body spends this close to your own.

“Fuck,” she gasps, breaking away from your lips only long enough to grunt in your ear. “Fuck, I want you so badly.”

All you can do is nod, shaking your head up and down in agreement, because you don’t think you’ve ever wanted another person this badly in your entire life.

“Irene,” you whine, pressing impossibly closer to her. “Please.”

“Can I touch you?”

You’re nodding again before the question has even fully left her lips, and the older woman’s pupils go dark with how eager she is for you. She kisses you again, her football player’s strength showing as she pushes you backward onto the sofa, hands working their way up under your shirt. She doesn’t bother with the clasp of your bra, instead slipping her hands beneath the fabric to cup your breasts. Separating her lips from yours with a low groan, Irene immediately begins tracing a path over the sensitive skin of your neck, sending a further wave of shivers up and down your spine. You moan quietly, remembering that you two aren’t alone in the apartment, but tilt your head anyway, granting her better access to your throat.

Advantage is rapidly taken, the Barcelona player letting a hint of teeth scrape across the delicate flesh of your throat as she rolls one of your nipples between her fingers, moaning quietly at the way you arch, pressing your chest further into her touch.

Your nipples aren’t normally this sensitive, but something about the way Irene rolls and tugs at them makes the two buds feel as if they’re direct links to your most sensitive spot. Her touch is magical, and all you want is more.

As if the older woman can read your mind, the hand not busy exploring your chest slides further down, slipping under your black leggings and making you gasp, bringing a hand up to muffle your own sounds as long fingers begin to rub at your pussy over your panties.

There’s far too much fabric between the two of you, and every thread feels like a cage. You need it off, need the last bits of separation between your heat and her touch gone, now.

“Off,” Irene commands and, needing the barrier gone just as badly as you do, she doesn’t wait for you to obey before she’s hooking her own fingers in the waistband of your leggings, yanking them down over your legs. Your panties are removed in the same motion, both pieces of fabric coming to rest at your ankles. You try to kick them fully off, but only manage to completely free one leg before the older woman is pushing her way between your thighs, eagerly beginning to explore your bare pussy.

Her experience is clear from the first touch of her slender fingers against your naked heat, and you can’t help but press closer, spreading your legs further to give her better access. The older woman draws in a sharp breath as she circles your clit gently with one finger, exploring, watching for your reactions, the others gathering the rapidly accumulating wetness at your entrance. Irene's touch is electric, and the older woman finds herself becoming rapidly obsessed with the way your clit seems to plead for her touch.

With two of her fingers, Irene traces the outline of your pussy, hyper aware of just how wet you are, how your hole is begging silently for her fingers inside as she continues to rub your clit.

You let your eyes fall shut, eagerly anticipating just how good it will feel when the fingers you can sense lingering just shy of your entrance finally slide home, burying themselves inside your welcoming cunt. You’re practically pulsing with it, with how badly you need her inside, need to know just how she’ll fill you, what previously unknown spots inside the tips of her long fingers will be able to brush.

“Where do you want my fingers, bebita?”

You whine, shifting your hips in an attempt to get even closer to her, to get her to slide her fingers into your throbbing heat. The digits, wet from your own slick, only withdraw further away from your needy hole, and you nearly sob with how badly you need the older woman, need her touch.

Obvious as it may be, this nonverbal expression of how desperate you are for her to take you isn’t enough to satisfy the older woman, and she rubs your inner thigh soothingly.

“Use your words, baby,” she coaxes. “Tell me where you need my fingers.”

The idea of using your words seems borderline impossible at the moment, your brain simply too overwhelmed with the reality of just how close her fingers are to slipping inside, but you can tell that you won’t get what you need until you do.

“My pussy,” you manage to whine, trying to stay as quiet as possible while pulsing with the need for her. “Please, Irene, I need your fingers in my cunt.”

Your words, base and simple as they are, are enough to get you what you need, and when Irene finally slides her fingers home, you can’t conceal the moan that tears its way free from your throat. You’re wet enough that the stretch of going from zero to two fingers inside your cunt brings nothing but pleasure, and you have to bite down on your lip to stop yourself from moaning aloud when you feel the ridges of her fingers settle against your walls, the older woman pausing for a moment to let you adjust to the feeling of her digits inside.

Irene has to swallow a wrecked noise of her own as she finally slides her fingers inside your soaking pussy, the sensation of your silky walls against her skin sending her brain into overdrive. The sound of your voice, desperation tinging your whispers as you plead for her to move, to fuck you, is absolute music to her ears, and she doesn’t hesitate to comply with the enticing request.

Her pace is slow at first as she starts to move, the older woman eagerly exploring every curve and contour of your cunt, leaking around her fingers. It’s so warm and inviting, and the older woman has no idea how she’s lasted this long without knowing what feel like inside.

Once she’s sure you’ve fully adjusted to the stretch of her digits inside of you, Irene speeds up her thrusts, curling her fingers in search of the most sensitive spots hidden inside your pretty cunt.

It’s clear when she finds what she’s looking for, because your cunt clenches down around her fingers and you squeeze your pretty eyes shut as pleasure rocks your body.

“Oh,” she says, voice a whisper that tickles your ear and makes you shudder happily. “Is that where you need me?”

You nod desperately, the entirety of your reality reduced to the sensation of her fingers against the sensitive tissue inside you, stroking it insistently as her thumb comes to brush against your swollen clit. As she fucks you with her fingers, the older woman tests out different motions on your bud with her thumb, searching for the pattern and pace to take what’s left of your breath away.

You can’t help but let out a cry as she presses a little harder, circling your needy clit at just the right angle. Irene quickly presses her lips to yours again, reminding you that you’re not alone in the apartment.

“Shh,” the older woman says, swallowing your noises with her own tongue, collecting each one. “You’ve still gotta be quiet for me, bebita.”

You nod in understanding, kissing her back desperately, bringing a hand up to tangle in her hair. You can be quiet, no matter how good it feels, you can be quiet, just so long as she doesn’t stop what she’s doing between your legs. Irene chuckles against your lips, redoubling her efforts between your legs. Her talented fingers thrust in and out of your pussy, each time hitting the spot that makes you see stars.

“That’s it, baby,” she whispers, lips right beside your ear. “That’s it, take it for me. Take it, just like that.”

You toss your head back, more than willing to comply. Every cell of your body feels like it’s on fire, and you want nothing more than for the burning to consume you completely.

Your orgasm arrives without warning, Irene’s thumb on your swollen clit combined with her talented fingers inside your cunt sending you crashing over the edge with a fury you haven’t felt in a long time. You have to bite down on your lip to keep in your sounds as your it overwhelms you, nails digging into Irene’s bare shoulders. You can feel the older woman’s smile as she kisses your neck, fingers still moving gently inside you, working you through your climax, helping you ride it for as long as you can.

You shudder, aftershocks still shaking your body as you begin to come down from your peak. She slides her fingers out and you bite down on your kiss-swollen lip to keep yourself from whining at the loss. It takes another minute before you're able to gather yourself, fully opening your eyes and taking in the sight of the gorgeous older woman above you.

Irene presses another kiss to your lips, this one gentle, and you can feel the smile on her face as you give a final shudder, sitting up and leaning into her.

"How was that, bebita?"

"Fucking perfect," you reply, unable to conceal a grin of your own as you note how flushed her face still is. Knowing that touching you has her seemingly almost as worked up as you are sends a thrill through your body and you reach for the button of her jeans, aiming to return the favor, only for the same pair of hands that had just brought you to such an incredible orgasm to push yours down, Irene’s lips brushing against your forehead.

“Don’t you worry about me, baby,” she says, and you feel your heart sink with sudden disappointment.

“Are you sure?”

Irene wraps an arm around you, pressing a kiss to the side of your head, clearly oblivious to the way your shoulders sink.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I promise. Don’t worry about me.”

You blush, wanting to protest that getting to touch her would be just about the furthest thing away from a worry- dream or fantasy come to life would be a more accurate description- but a sudden wave of shyness overcomes you, the whiplash of going from the high of your orgasm to the valley of being denied an opportunity to make Irene feel as good as she’s just made you feel making your throat close up.

“O-Oh,” you say quietly. “Okay. I just…”

You trail off, not sure what to say to that. It feels like, without meaning to or realizing what she’s done, the Barcelona defender has just tossed a bucket of ice water over you.

“I… I guess I should head home then,” you say quietly, trying not to let her hear the hurt in your voice, reaching down and pulling your leggings back up over your calves and thighs until they rest around your middle. Your panties aren’t quite soaked, for the pure fact that they had been around your ankles soon after her lips first met yours, but they’re still wet enough that putting them back on isn’t exactly comfortable.

And more than that, you don’t want to leave. Your body is still purring with the aftermath of your orgasm, the last thing you want to do right now is leave her apartment and walk the few blocks home to your own. The route between your apartment and Irene’s is one you know well, lit with plenty of streetlamps and well-frequented on a Saturday night, so any anxiety you might feel can be connected purely to leaving her after what’s just happened, without being certain where you stand.

Irene opens her mouth and you pause with your hand on the knob, waiting, hoping that she’ll say something, offer her bed to share for the night.

“Let me know when you get home safe,” she says quietly, and you can’t help the way your chest clenches with a strange sort of pain. You hadn’t really expected her to offer for you to stay, not with the amount of eyes that could be watching someone like her at any given moment, but you still can’t help but wish she had.

You nod in response to her question, clutching your bag close to your side as you shut the door behind yourself, beginning the short walk home.

...

“Fuck.”

The second the door shuts behind you, the defender wishes she could throw it open again and call you back in.

She had wanted to, especially after watching you come apart under her touch, seeing how pretty you looked as your orgasm overwhelmed you. The words had been on the tip of her tongue, but you had beaten her to it, reaching for the door handle and exiling yourself before she could even offer, and she hadn’t offered any protests.

Peeking in the door, ensuring that Mateo is still safe and sound in his bed, the Barcelona player tiptoes quietly down the hall, two doors down, and pushes her own door open and shut behind her.

As she pulls off her top, letting it fall to the floor, quickly followed by her pants and bra, Irene curses herself, pulling back the covers and slipping into the too-big bed on her own. It feels cold compared to the contrast of your warm body against her own, and her chest pangs with the regret of not asking you to stay the night.

Back in your own apartment, you slide beneath your own covers, mind racing at a million miles an hour.

No matter how your chest might ache at the fact that you’re here, alone in your own bed, the memory of the older woman’s lips on yours, of her talented fingers bringing you to orgasm right there on the sofa, of muffling your moans in her shoulder, still sends a familiar jolt of electricity between your thighs. With a soft whine, you reach for your the bedside drawer where you keep your vibrator, turning it up before pressing it against your still-swollen clit.

Blocks away, Irene is doing the same, quietly gasping out a much-needed orgasm with your name on her lips, the memory of your mouth on hers and your silken flesh beneath her fingertips sending her over the edge.

As the older woman drifts off into an uneasy slumber, the space beside her conspicuously empty, she knows that, now she's had you once, she won't ever be able to get enough.

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wosogf · 20 days ago

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Friendships and Sleepover (Meeting In Barcelona Part 2)

Alexia Putellas x reader

Word count: Around 11k

Warning: Tiny bit of angst

Part 1

Then a look of realization crossed her face, and she gasped, her eyes widening in disbelief. “¿Eres la chica por la que ha estado deprimida durante semanas?!” (You’re the girl she’s been depressed about for weeks?!)

——

“¿Ella habló de mí?” I asked, taken aback. I was surprised because, after she turned me down, I didn’t expect her to mention me to her sister. (She talked about me?)

“¡Sí! ¡Eres la chica que le pidió su número, pero ella te rechazó porque tiene miedo al amor debido a su trabajo, verdad? Aunque nunca me dijo tu nombre por alguna razón,” she replied, clearly recalling the story.

(Yes! You’re the girl who asked for her number, but she turned you down because she’s afraid of love due to her job, right? Although, for some reason, she never told me your name!)

“Sí, soy yo… ¿De verdad te dijo eso?” I asked, feeling a bit self-conscious. (Yes, that’s me… Did she really say that?)

“Sí, lo hizo, pero ¿por qué no me contaste que la volviste a ver?” she asked. (Yes, she did. But why didn’t you tell me you saw her again?)

“Me dio mucha vergüenza y quería olvidarlo, lo siento,” I admitted, feeling a little guilty. (I was too embarrassed and just wanted to forget about it… I’m sorry.)

“No necesitas disculparte, lo entiendo. Tenías todo el derecho de no decírmelo. Todos tienen sus propias razones para mantener ciertas cosas en privado, y respeto eso. Tus sentimientos y decisiones son importantes para mí,” she said softly, placing her hand on my thigh and giving it a gentle squeeze. (No need to apologize, I understand. You had every right not to tell me. Everyone has their own reasons for keeping certain things private, and I respect that. Your feelings and choices are important to me.)

“Eres la mejor,” I replied simply, putting my hand on top of hers, feeling a rush of gratitude. (You’re the best.)

“Pero te dije que el nombre de mi hermana es Alexia; podrías haberlo deducido por el nombre,” she pointed out, steering the conversation back to the topic. (But I told you my sister’s name is Alexia; you could have figured that out from the name.)

“Alba, no sabía su nombre hasta que la volví a ver en la calle, y fue entonces cuando ella me rechazó. Además, ¿sabes cuántas Alexias hay en España? No podía simplemente sacar conclusiones basadas en un nombre, y no tenía idea de cómo se veía tu Alexia,” I replied with a shrug, feeling justified. (Alba, I didn’t know her name until I saw her again on the street, and that’s when she rejected me. Plus, do you know how many Alexias there are in Spain? I couldn’t just jump to conclusions based on a name, and I had no idea what your Alexia looked like.)

She shot me a look that clearly communicated, You’re right, and then shrugged in agreement, her expression softening as she accepted my point.

“Somos las chicas más tontas de España,” she said with a laugh, her eyes crinkling with amusement, and I couldn’t help but join in her laughter. (We’re the stupidest girls in Spain.)

I turned back to the field, focusing intently on Alexia’s every move. I could hardly believe what I was witnessing…

As the players began to head back into the tunnel, Alba called out Alexia’s name to grab her attention.

Alexia glanced up at her sister and her face lit up with a smile, but that expression quickly shifted when her gaze landed on me.

In that moment, Alba wrapped her arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer so Alexia could see me clearly.

With a wide grin, Alba pointed at me. I smile softly and gave a little wave, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness.

But Alexia’s reaction was nothing short of astonishing. Her jaw dropped in sheer disbelief, her eyes widening to the point where they seemed almost comical, as if she had just seen a ghost.

She stumbled slightly, nearly losing her balance, and collided with one of her teammates.

Her face drained of color, turning a ghostly pale as she quickly apologized to them.

Then, she turned back to us, her brows knitted deeply in confusion. Her mouth was still slightly agape, as if she were struggling to comprehend what she was seeing.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at her bewildered reaction; it was both surprising and amusing to see someone as composed as Alexia caught so off guard.

After blinking a few times, as if trying to reset her thoughts, she finally managed to smile, though it was still laced with shock, and gave a hesitant wave.

Her movements appeared almost mechanical, as if she were on autopilot, each action deliberate yet lacking her usual grace.

Finally, with one last incredulous glance back at us, her eyes filled with a mixture of surprise and uncertainty, she turned and disappeared into the tunnel, leaving an electric tension hanging in the air behind her.

——

Throughout the entire match, I was utterly captivated by Alexia’s performance.

Football has never been my favorite pastime; I often find it tedious and unengaging. But with her, everything was different.

As I sat in the stands, the excitement of the crowd swelled around me, a living organism of energy and passion, and Alba eagerly filled me in on the intricate details of Alexia’s remarkable career.

She leaned in close, her voice barely audible over the roaring fans, explaining how Alexia earned the affectionate nickname “La Reina” for being the best female footballer in the world.

She told me about Alexia’s impressive accolades, including being a two-time Ballon d’Or winner. The sheer number of trophies she had amassed was staggering.

I was in awe, my heart racing as I realized I was in the presence of a true legend. The crowd’s reaction only confirmed this—every time Alexia touched the ball, a wave of cheers erupted, her jersey worn by countless fans who idolized her.

By the end of the match, Barcelona had secured a comfortable 3-0 victory, the players from both teams exchanging hugs and congratulations, their camaraderie palpable in the air.

As Alba and I rose to leave the stadium, a sudden call of her name caught our attention. We turned to see Alexia signaling for us to come closer, a genuine smile gracing her face.

With a mix of excitement and nervousness, we navigated down the stairs and leaned over the barrier separating us from her.

When Alexia looked up at me, her eyes sparkled with warmth as she greeted me with a soft “hola.”

The way she said it, with that genuine smile, made my heart skip a beat. I managed to return her greeting, my cheeks flushing under her gaze.

She looked incredibly attractive in her kit; the fabric clung to her athletic form, and the sweat glistened on her skin, enhancing her natural beauty. She was a force of nature, a true embodiment of passion and strength.

We held each other’s gaze for a few moments, and in that silence, I felt a connection, a moment suspended in time.

But it was Alba who broke the moment, waving her hand playfully and teasingly saying, “¡Oye! Todavía estoy aquí.” Her lightheartedness made us both laugh and shifted our focus back to her. (Hey! I’m still here.)

Alexia, not missing a beat, smiled at Alba before turning her attention back to us.

“Ven a mi casa,” she invited warmly. “Podemos pasar un rato allí y luego unirnos a mamá en el restaurante.” (Come to my place. We can spend some time there and then join mom at the restaurant.)

The casual invitation felt intimate, and my heart raced at the prospect of spending time with her.

“¡Vale, nos vemos allí!” Alexia replied with a radiant smile, her excitement infectious, before she turned and walked into the tunnel, leaving behind a lingering air of anticipation that filled me with hope and curiosity about what the evening might hold. (Okay, see you there.)

——

Alba and I returned to the car, the excitement of the day still buzzing between us as we drove to Alexia’s apartment.

The streets of Barcelona seemed to come alive with vibrant energy, but my mind was focused on what awaited us.

Once we parked, we entered the building and took the elevator up, the soft ding announcing our arrival on Alexia’s floor.

Alba rummaged through her bags, her fingers deftly searching for the spare key to her sister’s place.

After a moment of digging, she triumphantly pulled it out and unlocked the door. As soon as we stepped inside, Alexia’s fluffy dog came bounding toward us, tail wagging furiously.

“Aw, hola Nala!” I exclaimed, scooping up the tiny dog into my arms. She nuzzled against my cheek, her warmth and affection instantly making me smile.

“¿Cómo sabes su nombre?” Alba asked, her eyes wide with curiosity as she closed the door and moved further into the apartment. (How do you know her name?)

She settled down on the couch, clearly at home in her sister’s space.

I followed her, still holding Nala, who was now trying to lick my face in excitement.

“La conocí en el parque. La segunda vez que vi a Alexia, Nala corrió directamente hacia mí.” I explained, giving Nala gentle scratches behind her ears. Alba simply hummed, a smile creeping across her face. (I met her at the park. The second time I saw Alexia, Nala ran straight to me)

“Todavía no puedo creer esta situación, ¡es una puta locura!” she said, reaching for the TV remote and turning on the TV, the glow of the screen illuminating her features. (I still can’t believe this situation, it’s fucking crazy)

“Yeah, I can’t either,” I replied, more to myself as I glanced at Alba.

As I thought about it, I couldn’t believe I hadn’t noticed how much Alba and Alexia were alike.

They looked strikingly similar, from their expressive eyes to the way they carried themselves and their smile was identical.It was almost uncanny, like looking at two sides of the same coin.

“Así que, ¿estás enamorado de mi hermana?” Alba teased, poking my cheek and pulling me out of my thoughts. (So, you’re in love with my sister?)

“Deja de decir eso, no estoy enamorada. Solo he conocido a tu hermana tres veces antes de hoy y apenas hablamos.” I retorted, playfully swatting her hand away. (Stop it, I’m not in love. I’ve only met your sister three times before today, and we barely talked)

“Claro, claro… Alexia y Y/N están enamoradas el una del otra.” she sang cheerfully, puckering her lips in a playful manner that made me laugh. (Sure, sure… Alexia and Y/N are in love with each other.)

In a moment of playful retaliation, I grabbed a pillow from the couch and hit her with it.

She pushed me away, laughter bubbling between us as she turned her attention back to the TV, the easy banter and camaraderie making the evening feel even more special.

——

About 20 minutes later, the apartment door swung open, and there stood Alexia, looking effortlessly stunning in her Barcelona tracksuit, her hair slightly damp.

Nala, who had been snug in my arms since our arrival, sprang free and bounded straight to Alexia, eager to greet her.

“Hola nena,” Alexia said, scooping up Nala and planting kisses on her soft fur.

Alba jumped up next, rushing to her sister for a big hug and showering her with kisses on the cheek. Alexia embraced her back, kissing her forehead before putting Nala down.

Feeling a bit out of place in the living room, I stood up as well, unsure of what to do next. Alexia caught my eye and made her way over to me, a soft smile lighting up her face as she pulled me into a gentle hug. Her warmth enveloped me, and I found myself inhaling the pleasant scent of her hair.

“Hello,” she whispered in English, and I returned the greeting softly.

With her arms around my waist, I felt a sense of safety I hadn’t known before. However, she pulled away much too quickly for my liking, leaving me missing the comforting heat of her body.

“Alexia, te presentaría a Y/N, pero aparentemente ustedes ya se conocieron antes, ¿verdad?” Alba teased, a smirk dancing on her lips as she wiggled her eyebrows. (Alexia, I would introduce you to Y/N, but apparently, you guys already met before, right?)

As Alexia walked past Alba, she playfully shoved her hand on her sister’s face, pushing her away. “Métete en tus asuntos, tonta.” Then she made her way to the kitchen. (Mind your own business, idiot.)

“Voy a hacerme un batido, ¿queréis uno?” she called out, glancing back at us. (I’m making myself a smoothie; do you guys want one?)

Both Alba and I politely declined, taking our seats at the kitchen table, facing each other.

While Alexia rummaged through the kitchen cabinets for smoothie ingredients, Alba and I began discussing our upcoming classes.

Suddenly, I felt Alexia slide into the seat next to me, uncomfortably close, as she placed her smoothie on the table. Honestly, I couldn’t concentrate on what Alba was saying anymore.

Just then, Alba’s phone rang, and she checked who was calling “Necesito contestar esta llamada, los dejaré solos para que puedan hablar un poco.” (I need to answer this call; I’ll leave you two alone so that you can talk a little bit.)

With a wink and a smug expression, she stood up and headed toward what I assumed was Alexia’s room, closing the door behind her.

I was now alone with Alexia, and an awkward silence enveloped the room.

“Did you like the game?” Alexia finally broke the silence, her voice cutting through the tension.

I turned to her, feeling a flutter at the sound of her speaking in English. “Yes, you were amazing,” I told her sincerely.

A blush crept onto her cheeks, and she looked slightly embarrassed but smiled nonetheless.

“So, you’ve been friends with Alba all this time? You work together at school, verdad?” she asked, taking a sip of her smoothie.

“Um, yeah, we’re co-teaching a class together. We met like two days after I first met you at that restaurant,” I explained.

“I didn’t know you were her sister until today, though. She talked about you, obviously, but I never saw what you looked like or anything,” I continued, and she nodded, understanding.

“Alba también habló de ti, pero al igual que tú, no relacioné los detalles. Mencionó tu nombre, pero para mí solo era un nombre, así que no podría haberte reconocido.” She explained.

(Alba spoke about you too, but like you, I didn’t link the details. She mentioned your name, but it was just a name to me, so I couldn’t have recognized you.)

“It’s okay, now we know…better late than never I suppose,” I smiled gently at her, and she returned the smile before glancing down at her smoothie.

Another awkward silence fell over us, and I silently wished for Alba to return.

“You know, I felt very bad for not giving you my phone number. I—” she began, but I quickly interrupted, not wanting to dwell on that embarrassing moment.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to feel bad. I understand now,” I assured her.

She smiled at me sympathetically. “You know, now that you’re practically Alba’s best friend, we can be friends too, but only if you want to…” Her voice trailed off nervously.

“Yes, we can be friends, of course,” I replied, extending my hand for a handshake, though she looked at me in confusion.

“Let’s do this all over again. My name is Y/N Y/L/N, and you?”

Her smile widened as she took my hand. “I am Alexia Putellas,” she said, shaking my hand firmly.

We exchanged smiles and released each other’s hands. “By the way, nice jersey; you must be a big fan…” she said playfully.

“Oh, thank you! Alba gave it to me. I only wore it because I like the color. I have no idea who this ‘Alexia’ is, but Alba told me that apparently, she’s the best player in the world. I doubt it since I have no idea who she is. Do you know her?” I joked.

“No, I don’t know her either, but you’re right; the colors are pretty,” she played along, and we both giggled, enjoying the light-hearted banter.

Just as I was about to agree with her, Alba burst back into the room and sitting back down smirking at us. “Soy yo de nuevo. Espero no estar interrumpiendo.” (It’s me again. I hope I’m not interrupting.)

I gave her a dismissive eye roll at her smugness.

“Eres tan molesta, Albita.” I told her, glaring playfully and using the nickname the kids at school had given her. (You are so annoying, Albita.)

Although she’d never admit it to the kids, she absolutely hated that nickname for some reason.

“No me llames así, puta.” she shot back, glaring at me. (Don’t call me that, bitch.)

“Oh, no te enojes… Albita.” Alexia chimed in, joining the teasing. (Oh, don’t be angry… Albita,)

“No, no, no, no estamos haciendo eso, solo porque ustedes dos son pareja ahora no significa que puedan unirse para molestarme.” Alba scoffed, rolling her eyes at us. (No, no, no, we are not doing that; just because you two are a couple now doesn’t mean you can team up to annoy me.)

No way, she did not just say that.

“No somos pareja.” Alexia and I said simultaneously, glancing at each other in surprise before breaking into smiles. (We’re not a couple.)

“No aún.” Alba said with a smirk, and you kicked her lightly under the table, your irritation mixing with amusement. (Not yet)

The playful jab was enough to make her laugh, but you gave her a quick glare, trying to show just how annoying her teasing was.

——

After some time spent discussing this crazy situation to clear things up and teasing Alba, Alexia got up to change since we were about to leave for the restaurant to meet Eli, Alba, and Alexia’s mom.

As Alexia moved to her room, Alba lounged on the couch, scrolling through her phone, while I played with Nala at the kitchen table, gently scratching behind her ears as she nestled against my leg.

When Alexia finally returned, she looked stunning. She wore form-fitting blue jeans that accentuated her figure and a simple white top that highlighted her glowing complexion, paired with a long brown coat that added an elegant touch.

It was such a classic combination, yet she radiated beauty effortlessly.

She caught me staring and met my gaze with a shy smile, her cheeks slightly flushed.

Flustered, I quickly turned my attention back to Nala, who was wagging her tail excitedly, oblivious to the moment that just passed.

Once Alexia was ready, Alba’s patience had clearly worn thin. She clapped her hands together and exclaimed, “¡Vamos chicas, tengo hambre!” (Come on, girls, I’m hungry!)

Alexia and I shared a laugh at her dramatic tone. With a small shake of her head, Alexia said, “Vamos en mi coche,” grabbing her keys from the counter. (Let’s take my car)

As we left the apartment, we made sure to say goodbye to Nala, who gave us a little whine before trotting back to her bed.

In the parking lot, I stopped in my tracks as Alexia unlocked her car — a sleek, black Cupra with tinted windows and rims that looked freshly polished. My eyes widened in recognition. I‘ve seen this car before.

“Wait a second,” I said, pointing at her car with a grin. “I know this car. It was you! You’re the one who almost ran me over in the parking lot the other day!” I accused her playfully as we climbed in.

Alba took the front passenger seat, and I slid into the back.

“It was you?! What do you mean I almost ran you over? You should be careful when you cross the road. Your mom never told you to look both sides of the road before crossing it?” she laughed a little, glaring at me playfully.

“¡Oye, habla en español! ¡No entiendo! que está pasando? ” Alba said feeling a little left out of the conversation. (Hey, speak in Spanish! I don’t understand! what is happening?)

Alexia and I burst into laughter as we filled Alba in on the entire story in Spanish, each of us adding a little extra drama for effect.

Alba’s eyes lit up with mischief as she teased, “Honestamente, Alexia, deberías haberla atropellado. Al menos así se habrían conocido antes.” (Honestly, Alexia, you should’ve just and her over. At least that way, you’d have met each other sooner!)

Her playful suggestion only fueled the laughter, the idea of such an over-the-top reunion making the moment unforgettable.

We could barely contain ourselves, the car filled with our laughter as we pictured the absurdity of it all.

——

As we arrived at the restaurant, Alexia held the door open for both Alba and me. I flashed her a grateful smile and thanked her.

The hostess greeted us, and we let her know there would be four of us, as Eli hadn’t arrived yet.

Guiding us to a table set for four, we settled in with Alexia and me on one side and Alba facing us.

While we waited for their mom, we started chatting about Alexia’s big match coming up—Barcelona’s Champions League final against Wolfsburg.

Alexia casually mentioned that she’d promised her teammates she’d dye her hair pink if they won. Honestly, I think pink would look amazing on her.

After about fifteen minutes, Eli arrived, greeting each of us with a warm hug. She paused a bit longer when she looked at me, likely recognizing me from our first meeting at the restaurant in Barcelona.

As she sat down, Alba introduced me to her mom, saying, “Mami, esta es Y/N. Trabajamos juntas en la escuela y ahora es mi amiga.” (Mami, this is Y/N. We work together at school, and she's my friend now)

Eli greeted me warmly, saying, “Mucho gusto, Y/N. Aunque siento que nos hemos visto antes, ¿verdad? En un restaurante hace un tiempo, eres la estadounidense.” (Nice to meet you, Y/N. Although I feel like we've met before, right? At a restaurant a while ago, you're the American one.)

Her gentle smile made me feel at ease as I confirmed “Sí, esa soy yo” (Yes, that's me.)

Throughout the entire dinner, I relished the opportunity to get to know Eli better, and I couldn’t help but notice how much she reminded me of my mom.

She exuded warmth and kindness, with a sweet smile that could put anyone at ease. Eli was fiercely protective of her daughters, and it was clear that family meant the world to her.

As we chatted over plates of delicious food, her attentiveness was palpable. She leaned in closer when either Alba or Alexia spoke, I’m nodding in understanding and often laughing at their stories with genuine delight.

It was heartwarming to see how she savored each moment, whether reminiscing about their childhood antics or praising their achievements in football.

Eli shared a particularly funny story about a time Alba had a mishap during a school play, complete with exaggerated gestures and animated expressions.

I could see how much joy these memories brought her, and it became clear where both Alba and Alexia had inherited their warmth and sweetness.

The atmosphere was filled with laughter, shared stories, and moments of connection that transcended the dinner itself.

It was a beautiful reminder of the love families could have for one another, and I felt grateful to be included in such a warm and loving environment.

——

After a lovely dinner, we said our goodbyes to Eli, exchanging warm hugs and promising to get together again soon.

Climbing back into the car, Alexia, Alba, and I began the journey back to Alexia’s apartment.

The drive was peaceful, the gentle melodies from the radio providing a soft backdrop to our contented silence.

I caught Alexia stealing glances at me in the rearview mirror, and each time our eyes met, we exchanged smiles that conveyed unspoken understanding.

Upon reaching Alexia’s apartment, she parked the car.

Alba and I started to say our goodbyes, taking a moment to savor the evening before heading toward Alba’s car. As I hugged Alexia, she quietly asked if we could have a moment to talk.

There was a sense of urgency and sincerity in her eyes. She glanced at Alba, subtly signaling her to give us a bit of privacy.

Understanding the hint, Alba nodded and made her way to her car, leaving us to our conversation.

Leaning against her car, Alexia looked at me intently and asked, “Would you like to grab lunch tomorrow? I want to talk to you, just the two of us.” There was a hint of nervousness in her voice.

I smiled warmly and replied, “Absolutely, that sounds great.”

“Could I have your phone number?” she asked, holding her phone out to me.

I took her phone and entered my number. “Text me so I can save your number too,” I suggested.

We laughed together when she sent a cheeky message saying, “Alba es una tonta” (Alba is an idiot).

Once I saved her number, I playfully labeled her “La Reina 👸” in my contacts, prompting a mock eye roll from her.

Opening her arms for a hug, I stepped into her embrace.

As she gently rubbed my back, she said, “See you tomorrow.”

I mirrored her sentiment, replying, “See you tomorrow.”

As I walked toward Alba’s car, I glanced back to see Alexia watching me. I waved, and she waved back before heading into her apartment building.

I climbed into the car, where Alba shot me a teasing look and made exaggerated kissing sounds. “Tonta,” I called her, giving her a gentle slap on the arm. She just laughed and started the car.

——

The next day, I was preparing for lunch with Alexia, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. She was supposed to pick me up, so I waited anxiously.

I spent nearly an hour deciding on the perfect outfit—not too fancy since it wasn’t a date, but not too casual either, as I wanted to look good.

Once I settled on an appropriate outfit, I headed to the bathroom to style my hair, opting to leave it down instead of tying it up.

A few minutes later, I received a text from Alexia saying she was outside my building.

I hurried out of my apartment and spotted her leaning against her car, holding a bouquet of roses.

As I approached, she looked up and beamed at me. I greeted her with a hug and a cheerful “hola,” and she returned the gesture, pulling me in a bit tighter.

We stepped back, and she handed me the bouquet, saying nervously, “para ti” (for you).

I was genuinely touched. “Thank you, Alexia! These are my favorite flowers. How did you know?” I asked, taking in the sweet scent of the roses.

“Um… I asked Alba about it,” she admitted, a hint of nervousness in her voice. Feeling a surge of boldness, I kissed her cheek in gratitude.

Her cheeks flushed slightly as she said, “Vamos,” opening the car door for me. I smiled at her and climbed in.

When we parked at the restaurant, I shyly looked at her and realized where we were—the restaurant where we first met.

We stepped out of the car, and staying true to her gentlemanly nature, Alexia held the door open for me as we entered the restaurant.

Once seated at our table, we placed our orders.

“How was training this morning?” I asked, recalling that she had mentioned during dinner last night that she had practice today.

“It was good, a bit intense since we’re preparing for the Champions League final,” she replied, casually sipping her water, her gaze steady yet playful.

“I’m sure you’ll all do great! You won it last year, right?” I inquired, genuinely curious about her team’s journey.

“Yes, we did. How did you know? Alba told me you didn’t like football and didn’t watch it,” she teased, a hint of laughter in her voice.

Caught off guard, I hesitated for a moment. Just before heading to bed last night, I had found myself diving into some research about Alexia and Barça.

Despite my usual disinterest in football, there was something about Alexia that was changing my perspective. I had read about her remarkable career, her achievements, and the impact she had made on the sport and her team.

It was fascinating how someone could shift your outlook on something you thought you didn’t care about. Maybe football wasn’t as boring as I once thought; perhaps it could be quite captivating after all.

“Well, you know… Alba told me about it,” I lied, my cheeks flushing slightly as I took a sip of my water, trying to play it cool as Alexia chuckled.

Our food finally arrived, and we began to dig in. I had ordered the paella again, drawn in by its delightful flavors from my previous visit.

“How’s the paella?” she asked playfully, looking at me with that infectious curiosity of hers.

“Delicious,” I replied simply, meeting her gaze for a moment before glancing down at my plate, the warmth of her smile lingering in my mind.

A small silence fell between us as we savored our meals. I could feel the atmosphere shifting, a sense of anticipation hanging in the air.

I decided it was time to address the unspoken tension. “I think we should address the elephant in the room,” I said, my voice steady as I looked her in the eyes.

Alexia frowned slightly, her brow furrowing in confusion as she glanced around. “There’s no elephant in the room,” she responded, looking at me as if I were a bit odd.

Oh, she didn’t understand the expression. Of course, Y/N, English isn’t her first language.

“Oh, sorry, I meant… we should talk about… you know, IT,” I murmured, my voice lowering as I focused intently on my plate, avoiding eye contact.

I felt her large hand cover mine, gently urging me to meet her gaze. “Yes, let’s talk about it,” she said softly, her thumb brushing over my hand before she pulled it away, leaving a lingering warmth.

“Um… I won’t lie to you, the first time we met, I felt this kind of… connection? I guess? I know it sounds cliché, but it’s true,” I confessed, my heart racing as I looked directly at her, the uncertainty creeping in.

“Don’t worry, I felt the same. When I first saw you, I thought you were really beautiful and couldn’t stop staring,” she admitted, a slight blush creeping onto her cheeks, which only made me blush deeper.

“And when I saw you in the park again, I thought maybe, I don’t know, it was fate and my chance to talk to you,” she continued, her voice laced with vulnerability.

“So, do you feel the same as I do? Like an attraction?” I pressed, my heart pounding.

“Yes, but…” she started, searching for the right words, her expression shifting to one of contemplation.

“I know… you don’t want a relationship right now because of your job; Alba told me,” I said gently, and she nodded, a glimmer of sadness in her eyes.

“Estoy realmente dedicada a centrarme en mi carrera en este momento, y es difícil equilibrar eso con tener una novia. Los viajes constantes y las demandas de mi trabajo hacen que sea difícil mantener una relación estable. Quiero darle a mi carrera la atención que merece, pero es difícil cuando los compromisos personales me están tirando en diferentes direcciones,” she explained, her words flowing more easily in her native language. (I’m really dedicated to focusing on my career right now, and it’s tough to balance that with having a girlfriend. The constant traveling and demands of my job make it difficult to maintain a stable relationship. I want to give my career the attention it deserves, but it’s hard when personal commitments are pulling me in different directions.)

“I understand; it’s your career before everything else. You need to prioritize your professional growth and opportunities right now, which means making some tough choices. It’s clear that your job requires a lot of your time and energy, and maintaining a relationship might not be feasible with your current commitments,” I replied, fully grasping her predicament.

Yet, despite my understanding, I felt a pang of sadness. Since my first night in Barcelona, I had developed feelings for Alexia. It was difficult to accept that I couldn’t be with her because her demanding job consumed so much of her time and energy.

Feeling a mix of sadness and embarrassment, I focused on my hands resting in my lap, nervously toying with my fingers.

It felt like I was seeking solace in the small movements, but my mind was racing with thoughts. The weight of my emotions made it hard to lift my head, and I wished I could just disappear for a moment.

“Y/N, mírame,” Alexia whispered softly, reaching across the table to gently lift my chin with her fingers. Her touch was tender and reassuring.

She gave me a sad smile, her eyes mirroring a mix of empathy and regret.

It was clear she felt bad for essentially rejecting me… again.

The moment was thick with unspoken emotions, and her expression conveyed a longing for circumstances to be different.

“Sabes, cuando Alba me habló de ti, mencionó repetidamente lo increíble que eres. No podía dejar de enfatizar lo maravillosa persona que eres, destacando tu amabilidad e inteligencia, y por los pocos momentos que pasamos juntos, puedo decir que ella estaba diciendo la verdad,” she said sincerely in Spanish, clearly more at ease expressing herself in her mother tongue. (You know, when Alba spoke to me about you, she repeatedly mentioned how incredible you are. She couldn’t stop emphasizing what an amazing person you are, highlighting your kindness and intelligence, and from the few moments we spent together, I can tell that she was telling the truth.)

“I still want to be friends with you if that’s something you want too. I really like the connection we have, and I’d love for us to continue being part of each other’s lives. I want to see more of you,” she continued gently, her tone hopeful yet cautious as she switched back to English.

I paused for a moment, weighing the situation.

Being friends with someone I might have a crush on could complicate things. It was probably not the best idea, as it could blur the lines between friendship and romantic feelings, potentially leading to misunderstandings and hurt.

It was essential to think carefully about how this might affect both my emotions and the friendship itself.

Alexia must have sensed my hesitation; she nervously bit her lip and looked away, her eyes revealing a mix of anxiety and disappointment.

“If you don’t want to, it’s okay. I completely understand…” she said, her voice tinged with sadness.

It was clear that my reaction had affected her, and I could sense the vulnerability in her words. She seemed to be bracing herself for a rejection, trying to mask her emotions but not quite succeeding.

Despite my initial reservations about wanting to be friends with someone I had a crush on, I also felt a strong desire to be part of her life. In a way, I already was, since Alba and I were inseparable, and that naturally kept me connected to Alexia.

Maybe, in time, I would get over this crush… who knows? It was a confusing mix of emotions, but being around her—even as just friends—felt important to me.

“Yes, I still want to be friends with you,” I finally told her, managing a smile that I hoped conveyed my sincerity.

The relief that washed over her was palpable; her face lit up with a bright smile that seemed to chase away the shadows of doubt. It was as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders, and the warmth in her eyes made me feel more at ease.

With that, the conversation flowed effortlessly. We jumped from topic to topic, navigating everything from the mundane to the profound, and in the process, we began to know each other better.

Alexia shared details about her career—how she was gearing up for the Champions League final, her excitement palpable in her voice.

She mentioned the World Cup coming up in August, her passion and dedication evident in the way she spoke about her teammates and their goals. Hearing her talk about her dreams ignited something in me, a sense of pride that I had the chance to witness it all.

In return, she listened intently as I shared snippets of my life, her gaze unwavering and filled with genuine interest. It felt like she was hanging onto every word I said, making me feel valued in a way that was both comforting and exhilarating.

For that brief moment, I lost sight of the reality that we could not be together. The connection we were building was warm and inviting, a space where the complexities of our feelings faded into the background.

I felt lighter, the weight of unspoken tensions lifting as we reveled in this newfound friendship.

——

After an incredible lunch filled with laughter and meaningful conversation, Alexia drove me back to my apartment, the air still buzzing with the joy of our time together.

As she parked the car, we both stepped out, and I turned to her with genuine appreciation. “Thank you so much for lunch. I’m really glad we were able to sort everything out,” I expressed, a smile lighting up my face.

Alexia’s eyes sparkled with warmth as she replied, “It was no trouble at all. I’m really happy about it too, and we should definitely do this again.”

Her enthusiasm mirrored my own, deepening the connection I felt between us.

“Alright, I’m heading out now. I’ll see you around, Alexia,” I said, my voice filled with lightness as I prepared to walk away.

“Bye, Y/N,” she responded, her smile matching mine in brightness.

Just as I began to walk away, I heard her call out, “Espera!” I turned back, a hint of surprise flickering across my face. (Wait!)

“You forgot your flowers,” she said, approaching me with a gentle smile as she held them out.

“Oh, thanks!” I replied gratefully, accepting the bouquet from her hands. I turned to leave once more, feeling a mix of warmth and happiness.

But just when I thought I was free to go, I felt her hand gently grasp my shoulder, prompting me to turn back, intrigued by her sudden hesitation.

“Wait… there’s something I wanted to ask you,” she said, her tone tinged with a hint of nervousness.

“Sure, what is it?” I asked, giving her my full attention.

“Um… Quería preguntarte. Tengo un partido el sábado por la tarde. ¿Te gustaría venir? No tienes que comprar una entrada; tengo extras para familiares y amigos.” Her voice was now a touch more anxious, revealing how much this invitation meant to her. (Um… I wanted to ask you. I have a game on Saturday afternoon. Would you like to come? You don’t have to buy a ticket; I have extras for family and friends.)

“Um… will Alba be there?” I inquired, my curiosity piqued.

“No, she has a dentist appointment, but Alba doesn’t need to be there for you to come,” she reassured me.

“Ahora también somos amigas, no necesitamos a Alba para pasar el rato juntos.” Her smile was infectious, and I couldn’t help but grin back. (We’re friends now too; we don’t need Alba to hang out together.)

“I’d love to come see you play again,” I said, my heart swelling with excitement. Her smile widened, and she pulled me into a warm hug.

Wrapping my arms around her waist, I buried my head in her shoulder, feeling comforted by her presence.

I heard her whisper softly in my ear, “No te arrepentirás.” (You won’t regret it.)

As we finally parted, I placed a gentle kiss on her cheek and bid her goodbye, waving as I turned to walk towards my building.

I glanced back one last time to see her waiting until I was safely inside before she got back into her car and drove away, leaving me with a smile that lingered long after she was gone.

——

Saturday arrived all too quickly, and before I knew it, I was seated in the stadium, surrounded by a sea of excited fans, eagerly awaiting the start of the match. The atmosphere buzzed with anticipation, a perfect backdrop for the game ahead.

In the days leading up to this moment, my connection with Alexia had bloss. We were in constant communication, our texts flowing seamlessly from morning until night. Each morning, we exchanged cheerful good morning messages, the kind that made my heart flutter.

After our messages, we would jump on FaceTime to prepare breakfast together. It became a delightful ritual; we would chop vegetables, flip pancakes, and brew coffee while chatting about our plans for the day.

Though we were miles apart, the shared experience made it feel like we were in the same kitchen, our laughter echoing through the phone as we savored our first moments of the day.

Throughout the week, Alexia’s thoughtfulness stood out. She consistently checked in on me, asking about my day and sharing snippets of her life.

Her genuine care warmed my heart; it felt wonderful to know she was thinking of me amid her busy schedule.

In the evenings, we would reconnect over dinner, FaceTiming again while we prepared our meals. Step by step, we’d share our cooking experiences, from seasoning the food to plating it, creating a sense of togetherness that made the distance feel less daunting.

As we savored our dinners, we’d talk and laugh, sharing stories and jokes that brought us even closer.

As the day came to a close, Alexia would always send me sweet goodnight texts, wishing me pleasant dreams.

Her words felt like a warm hug, a perfect way to end my day, leaving me with a glow of happiness as I drifted off to sleep.

On the day of the match, I settled into my seat and took in my surroundings, the vibrant colors of the teams and the enthusiastic crowd around me heightening my excitement. Just then, a text from Alexia lit up my phone.

La Reina 👸: ¿Estás aquí? (Are you here?)

Me: Yes, I’m in my seat. I can’t wait to see you play!

Her response was quick, a cheeky winking emoji that made me smile.

I couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement as I locked my phone, anticipation bubbling inside me while I waited for the players to take the field.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the players emerged from the tunnel, the roar of the crowd echoing in my ears.

Alexia was the first out, her expression serious and determined, ready to tackle the match head-on.

The stakes were high; Barcelona was facing off against Madrid CFF in their last game before the Champions League final in June.

As the match unfolded, the tension was palpable. I felt a swell of pride when Alexia scored, but my joy quickly turned to disappointment when Barcelona fell behind 2–1.

Despite her brilliant performance, the team was struggling. As the final whistle blew, I could see the disappointment etched on her face.

She shook hands with her opponents, her posture deflated, and hugged her teammates before heading over to greet the fans.

When she approached our section, I caught her eye, and for a moment, her face lit up with a smile.

I returned her smile, hoping to convey my support despite the tough loss. She signed jerseys and posed for photos with fans, her smile fading slightly as the weight of the defeat lingered in the air.

After finishing with the fans, she disappeared back into the tunnel, and sensing her mood, I decided to leave rather than risk adding to her disappointment.

As I settled into my car, my phone rang, breaking the silence. Alexia’s name appeared on the screen. “Hello?” I answered, my heart racing with excitement.

“Hola, are you still here?” she asked, her tone hopeful yet uncertain.

“Yes, I’m in the parking lot; I was about to leave,” I informed her, glancing around at the emptying stadium.

“Can you please wait for me? I’ll be there in 10 minutes,” she requested earnestly.

“Of course, I’ll wait for you,” I replied, a smile creeping onto my face as I imagined seeing her again.

True to her word, exactly ten minutes later, I spotted her car pulling up next to mine. She stepped out, her smile cutting through the lingering tension of the match.

I walked over, and she pulled me into a warm embrace, her arms wrapping tightly around my waist as she buried her face in my neck.

“Lo siento,” she murmured softly, the weight of her disappointment evident in her voice.

“Why?” I asked, a frown crossing my face.

“You come here, and I lose the game,” she explained, her eyes downcast.

I gently pulled away, holding her face in my hands, wanting her to see the sincerity in my gaze. “I don’t really care that you lost. I enjoyed the game, and you were incredible—chica, ¡ese golazo!” I exclaimed, trying to lighten her mood.

A soft laugh escaped her lips, the corners of her mouth twitching upward.

We stepped back, but I could sense that she was still carrying some sadness. To offer her comfort, I took her hand in mine, caressing her knuckles gently.

“¿Estás haciendo algo ahora mismo?” she asked, her eyes flicking between our joined hands. (Are you doing something right now?)

“No, why?” I replied, continuing to stroke her knuckles.

“¿Te gustaría venir a mi apartamento? Podríamos ver una película y luego puedo cocinar la cena,” she proposed, a hint of eagerness in her voice. (Would you like to come to my apartment? We could watch a movie and then I can cook dinner?)

“Me encantaría tener compañía en este momento, no quiero estar sola,” she added, her vulnerability making my heart ache for her. (I’d love some company right now; I don’t really want to be alone)

“I would love to,” I told her without hesitation, squeezing her hand reassuringly.

“Okay, let’s go. Follow me,” she said, pulling away to get into her car. I followed her lead, both of us driving towards Alexia’s apartment.

The prospect of spending time together, away from the pressures of the game, filled me with a sense of comfort and excitement.

——

Upon arriving at Alexia’s apartment, I slipped off my shoes and made my way to the living room, plopping down on the floor to play with Nala.

The soft fur felt comforting against my fingers as I scratched behind Nala’s ears, earning me a few happy barks in return.

“Ella realmente te quiere,” Alexia said, settling beside me and stroking Nala’s soft coat, her voice warm and playful. (She really likes you.)

“Of course, who doesn’t?” I replied with a sassy grin, eliciting a gentle push from Alexia that made me laugh.

She stood up, brushing off her hands, and headed towards the kitchen. “What do you want to eat for dinner?” she called over her shoulder.

“I don’t know, whatever you want,” I replied, still distracted by Nala’s antics.

“How about lasagna?” she suggested, rummaging through the cabinets in search of ingredients.

“Oh, I love lasagna!” I exclaimed, feeling a rush of excitement. The thought of homemade lasagna made my mouth water.

Alexia chuckled, and I got up to join her in the kitchen, eager to help with the cooking. She connected her phone to the aux speaker, and music filled the air, setting a lively tone for our evening.

“You and Alba are obsessed with Karol G,” I remarked, mixing the ingredients while glancing at her.

“¡La mejora!” she responded, a smile spreading across her face as she started singing along to the lyrics. (The best.)

As we moved around the kitchen, I couldn’t help but notice how often Alexia glanced my way. Each time our eyes met, she would quickly look away, her cheeks tinged with a hint of color that made my heart race.

Once we had the lasagna in the oven and Alexia went to the bathroom, I took the opportunity to scroll through her Instagram. I smiled at the pictures of her training, her radiant smile captured perfectly in each shot.

Just as I was getting lost in the feed, I felt hands on my hips from behind, and Alexia’s voice whispered playfully, “Boo!”

I jumped, nearly dropping my phone in the process. “Idiot!” I laughed, swatting at her as she giggled.

“Do you like my pictures on Instagram?” she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

I felt my cheeks heat up, and I huffed, playfully removing her hands from my hips and walking past her to check on the lasagna, trying to hide my blush.

When the timer went off, Alexia triumphantly pulled the lasagna from the oven, the rich aroma filling the kitchen.

I grabbed plates and cutlery, setting the table while she carefully sliced the lasagna into generous portions.

Once we were seated, I noticed that Alexia had changed the seating arrangement so she could sit next to me instead of across from me. I couldn’t help but smile at the gesture, feeling a warmth spread through me.

We took our first bites, and I couldn’t suppress a moan of delight. “Mmm, delicioso!” I exclaimed, savoring the cheesy goodness. (Delicious!)

Alexia grinned at my reaction. “Good job!” she said, raising her hand for a high five.

I met her palm with my own, the sound echoing in the cozy kitchen, both of us laughing at the simple joy of our shared meal. The atmosphere felt light and comfortable, a welcome escape from the pressures of the outside world.

As we continued to eat, the conversation flowed effortlessly between us, punctuated by laughter and shared glances that made my heart flutter.

It felt like a perfect evening—just the two of us, the warmth of the lasagna, and the sweet sound of Karol G filling the background.

——

After finishing dinner, we cleared the table and tackled the dishes together. The kitchen echoed with the sound of running water and the gentle clinking of plates and glasses as we worked side by side at the sink, chatting and laughing, enjoying the simple task of cleaning up.

Suddenly, without warning, Alexia leaned in and splashed water right onto my face.

“Hey! Idiota!” I exclaimed, quickly drying my hands and rubbing my eyes to clear away the water that had splashed into them. The cold surprise jolted me, and I blinked rapidly to regain my vision.

“Ow! Ow! Ow! That hurt!” I said, pretending to wince in pain, squinting dramatically as if the water had caused me actual distress.

“¡Oh, mierda! ¡Y/N, lo siento mucho! ¿Estás bien?” Alexia asked urgently, her voice laced with concern. (Oh shit! Y/N, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?!)

Her large hands gently cradled my face as she tilted it back, searching my eyes with wide worry. The moment felt intimate, her fingers warm against my skin.

I couldn’t help but smirk at her, noticing the genuine distress that marred her features. Taking advantage of the moment, I scooped up a handful of soapy foam from the sink and, with a mischievous glint in my eyes, smeared it all over her cheeks.

Alexia gasped, her eyes widening in shock as the foam clung to her face. I burst into a loud, triumphant laugh, feeling a rush of adrenaline as I dashed away from the sink, making a break for it across the kitchen.

“¡Vas a arrepentirte de eso!” she shouted after me, her initial surprise melting into laughter as she leaped into action, chasing me around the kitchen. (You’re going to regret that!)

By the time we finished our little water fight, our shirts were damp, and I decided it was time to borrow one of Alexia’s shirts. She immediately agreed and dashed off to her room to find something for me.

Moments later, she returned with one of her black hoodies, and I couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her. “Thank you,” I said gratefully as I took it from her.

I slipped into the bathroom to change, and the moment I put on the hoodie, I was enveloped by her familiar scent. It was warm and comforting, instantly making me feel at home.

When I returned to the living room, I found Alexia already settled on the couch, her legs resting on the coffee table, a soft duvet covering them. She was scrolling through Netflix, searching for a movie to watch.

I sat down next to her, leaving some space between us to avoid making her uncomfortable. However, she quickly extended the duvet, inviting me to join her underneath it. Nala jumped onto the couch, choosing to settle on Alexia’s lap, making herself comfortable.

Once Alexia selected a film and pressed play, I leaned back against the cushions, enjoying the warmth and softness of the duvet enveloping me.

As the movie progressed, I felt the heaviness of sleep creeping in, so I rested my head against the back of the couch, letting my eyelids grow heavy. I could sense Alexia glance over at me, and then I heard her voice softly say, “Ven aquí.” (Come here.)

Obeying her gentle invitation, I moved closer, snuggling into her side. The warmth radiating from her made it hard to resist the drowsiness that was pulling me under.

She slid her hand under my hoodie, her fingers brushing against my side as she began to stroke me gently. “¿Está bien eso?” she asked, her voice a soothing whisper. (Is that alright?)

I responded with a soft hum, too relaxed to form actual words. Nala, noticing my presence, barked softly, prompting me to reach out and place my hand on her soft fur beside Alexia’s.

As time passed, I felt Alexia’s hand inching closer to mine, and before I knew it, I instinctively reached for it, intertwining our fingers together. It felt so right, so comforting.

The combination of Alexia’s warmth, the gentle motion of her hand, and the peaceful atmosphere made it impossible for me to stay awake any longer.

As I melted into her side, the world around me faded away, and I finally succumbed to sleep, wrapped in the safety of her embrace.

——

I woke up in a dark room, still curled up on the couch beside Alexia. She was sleeping peacefully, her head tilted back against the cushions in a way that couldn’t have been comfortable.

Nala had moved to the floor, sprawled out in her usual fashion, snoring softly.

As I shifted slightly, I noticed that Alexia and I were still holding hands, our fingers intertwined as if they were reluctant to let go.

The warmth of her touch lingered, and I felt a slight pang of reluctance as I gently pulled my hand away, feeling the soft brush of our fingertips parting.

“Alexia, Alexia,” I called softly, shaking her gently. “¡Despierta!” (Wake up!)

She groaned and startled awake. “¿Qué? ¿Qué pasa? ¿Estás bien?” she asked, her concern evident as she placed a hand on the back of my head. (What? What’s wrong? Are you okay?)

“Everything’s fine, we just fell asleep,” I reassured her, trying to calm her.

Sitting up, I reached for my phone to check the time. It was one in the morning. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I was just so tired,” I apologized.

“It’s okay, don’t worry,” she said, sitting up and giving me a warm smile.

“I should go,” I said, standing up to gather my things.

She reached out, grabbing my hand. “No, sleep here. It’s too late, and you’re too tired to drive,” she insisted, rising from the couch as well.

“No, no, I don’t want to bother you,” I protested, feeling a mix of guilt and reluctance.

“You’re not,” she answered softly, her eyes sincere.

I hesitated, weighing my options. It was just one night, and with tomorrow being Sunday, I had no work to worry about.

“Fine,” I finally conceded, a smile breaking on my face.

“Let me grab you some shorts; you can’t sleep in jeans,” she said with a warm grin, disappearing into her room.

Moments later, she returned with a pair of Barça shorts in hand. The fabric looked soft and comfortable, and I took them gratefully.

I headed to the bathroom to change, slipping into the shorts and feeling a wave of relief wash over me.

Thankful for her kindness, I returned to the living room, about to lie back on the couch when she stopped me with a gentle hand on my shoulder.

“No, go sleep on the bed. I’ll sleep on the couch,” she insisted softly, her tone firm but caring.

“Alexia, it’s your apartment. You should sleep in your bed,” I protested, trying to reason with her.

“No, you’re my guest. You sleep on the bed,” she retorted, her voice leaving no room for argument.

“Still, you sleep on the bed,” I replied, determined to stand my ground.

She let out an exasperated sigh and stepped closer, taking me by the arms and gently, yet firmly, pulling me towards her bedroom.

“Alexia, what are you doing?” I whispered, a mix of confusion and surprise in my voice.

“Shhh,” she shushed me, leading me with determined steps.

“Alexia—” I began to object, but she cut me off with a stern look.

“Callate. We’re both going to sleep in the bed. Is that okay with you?” she asked, her voice softening. (Quiet)

I searched her eyes, seeing the earnestness reflected back at me, and simply nodded, unable to find any more words to argue.

I settled onto the soft mattress, feeling her presence beside me—a comforting warmth in the dimly lit room.

Despite my exhaustion, sleep eluded me, likely due to the intimate proximity we now shared.

The scent of her shampoo lingered in the air, a subtle reminder of her closeness. On the couch, slumber had come easily, but sharing a bed introduced a new level of closeness that sent my heart racing.

Turning to meet her gaze, I found her already looking back at me, our eyes locked in a silent exchange of emotions that felt both thrilling and terrifying.

Her hand, gentle and reassuring, cupped my cheek, her thumb tracing soothing patterns against my skin.

The tender caress lulled me into a state of tranquility, my weariness giving way to a sense of calm.

“Está bien, ve a dormir, cariño, estoy aquí,” she murmured softly, pressing her forehead against mine. (It’s okay, go to sleep, I’m here)

The closeness of our breaths mingling, the shared warmth, and her comforting presence gradually ushered me into the embrace of slumber, a soft smile tugging at my lips as I finally surrendered to sleep.

——

I woke up the following morning to an empty space where Alexia should have been. A twinge of disappointment pierced through me as I reached out to find the warm spot beside me cold and vacant.

Glancing at my phone, I saw it was 7 AM, and a sense of unease washed over me. Where could she be so early on a Sunday?

I got out of bed, thinking she might be in the bathroom or the kitchen. After searching the apartment, I realized she was nowhere to be found. My mind raced with possibilities—was everything okay?

As I walked into the kitchen, a flash of white caught my eye. On the table lay a note. Curiosity piqued, I picked it up and read:

“I went running. I will be back soon.”

- Ale

I couldn’t help but chuckle. Who goes for a run at seven in the morning on a Sunday? Well, apparently Alexia does. Her dedication and energy never ceased to amaze me.

I greeted Nala by showering her with kisses and giving her a good belly rub before making my way to the kitchen.

Feeling inspired by Alexia’s thoughtfulness, I decided to whip up breakfast for her as a thank you for her hospitality.

Rummaging through the kitchen, I found everything I needed for a hearty meal. As I started cooking, the aroma of sizzling eggs and toasted bread filled the air, adding warmth to the quiet morning.

A little later, as I plated the breakfast, the sound of the front door opening caught my attention. “Bon dia,” Alexia greeted, stepping into the kitchen and giving me a kiss on the cheek, still slightly breathless from her run.

She had been very affectionate since yesterday; maybe, just maybe, a part of me hoped she had changed her mind about not wanting a girlfriend. Or perhaps she was just naturally affectionate, a trait of her Spanish heritage.

“Bon dia,” I replied, my heart fluttering. “I made you breakfast,” I said, presenting the plate with a flourish.

She smiled softly at me. “Gracias,” she responded, her eyes sparkling with appreciation.

As we settled at the table, the morning light created a cozy atmosphere around us. We enjoyed our breakfast while chatting about the busy week ahead, the easy rhythm of our conversation making the moment feel special.

After we finished eating, we cleared the dishes together, our laughter mingling with the clatter of plates. Feeling content, I knew it was time for me to leave.

I had truly enjoyed my night and morning with Alexia; it had allowed us to bond even more deeply.

I returned to her room, making the bed and changing back into my clothes. I carefully folded the shorts she had lent me, ensuring they were as neat as when she first gave them to me.

Strolling back into the living room, my heart swelled with gratitude for Alexia’s generosity.

“I’m heading out now. Thank you so much for letting me stay,” I expressed, a genuine smile on my face.

Alexia rose from the sofa and enveloped me in a warm hug. “De nada,” she whispered softly, her voice wrapping around me like a warm blanket.

After our embrace, I planted a tender kiss on her cheek, feeling a rush of affection, before grabbing my car keys and following her to the door.

She opened it for me, her smile radiating warmth.

“Adiós,” I said, and she replied with a kind smile. “Text me when you get home and be careful on the road,” she reminded me, her tone shifting to one of mock seriousness. “And remember to look both ways before you cross the road,” she teased playfully, a smirk gracing her lips.

I giggled at her concern. “I will,” I assured her, touched by her thoughtfulness.

With one last glance at her, I made my way out of the door and into the elevator, my heart full from the morning we had shared.

——

The rest of the day, I couldn’t stop thinking about my time at Alexia’s. Every little moment replayed in my mind—the way she had smiled when I served breakfast, how effortlessly she had reached for my hand during the movie, and the warmth of her body next to mine in the bed. It felt so intimate and real, yet so confusing.

She had told me she didn’t want a relationship right now, yet her actions seemed to contradict her words.

Giving me flowers, cuddling me, holding my hand—those gestures were not what you’d expect from someone who wanted to keep things casual. I was left grappling with a whirlpool of emotions, desperately trying to make sense of it all.

I felt special and cared for in her presence, yet each time I recalled her insistence about not wanting anything serious, doubt crept in. Did she really mean it? Was she just scared? Or was there something more to her feelings that she wasn’t ready to admit?

Ughh, I hated love.

…

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wosogf · 2 months ago

Text

God Complex | One Shot

Natasha "Phoenix" Trace x f! surgeon! reader (no use of y/n)

You're a trauma surgeon resident, studying at a bar when you're approached by a woman who steals your focus.

warnings! Slight dom!Phoenix, suggestive, drinking, not proof read

“Bite your lip any harder and I’m going to have to kiss it better,” A rich, feminine voice pulled you out of your textbook. Studying at a bar had been a tip your dad had given you. He said that real doctors don't have the luxury of a quiet and controlled environment all of the time and studying in such a crowded space would hone your focus. Except with just a few words, this woman had shattered your focus.

Standing in front of you was the most gorgeous woman you’d ever seen. You swallowed hard. The woman was in a tan, Navy uniform that was tailored to perfection, with dark hair slicked back into a tight bun. She looked amused as you squirmed under her dark gaze, unable to form any words. “Tell me your name, baby girl.”

Your response was instant, cheeks burning red under her gaze. The woman repeated your name like she was testing how it rolled off her tongue.

“Everyone calls me Phoenix,” She stepped between your knees, her citrus perfume filling the space. Your head spun like a top, full on gay panic setting in when Phoenix’s hand rested on your bare thigh. “But you, baby girl, can call me Tasha.” You nodded, unable to think of anything but how close this insanely hot woman was and the way her thumb was brushing the inside of your thigh.

“Tasha,” You whispered. Tasha grinned, squeezing your thigh.

“Are you going to be a good girl and let me buy you a drink?”

Again, your response was immediate.

“Yes,” Tasha eyed your can of soda.

“Is there a reason you’re staying sober so far?” You shook your head, pushing your textbook to the side. Suddenly, studying wasn’t so important to you after all. “Good. You seem like the fruity drink type, am I right?”

Another nod. Honestly, you would have drank straight whiskey if Tasha spit it in your mouth and by the look on her face, she knew it.

“Okay, then you sit here and look pretty while I get us both a drink.”

“Holy shit,” You breathed, air finally filling your lungs when Tasha was out of ear shot. “Holy shit, is this really happening?” You pinched yourself, pain shooting up your arm. It was real. Very real.

“Tell me about yourself, baby girl.” Tasha returned to the high top table with a beer and a fruity looking cocktail.

“I’m a trauma surgeon resident, that’s um, that’s why,” You pointed at your textbook.

“Ooh, so not only is my girl smart, she’s also an adrenaline junkie.” You flushed, sipping on your cocktail. You hadn’t received this much attention at once in a long time, it was overwhelming.

In college, you had been the life of the party, but medical school and interning had burnt you out. Outside of your fellow residents and the occasional nurse, this was the longest conversation you had had in months.

“Why did you focus on trauma?”

“When I was an intern, there was a period in time that I thought about quitting,” You tapped your fingers nervously against the table, “I was so tired, I was barely sleeping or eating. I just didn’t want to do it anymore, the day I was going to quit, there was a massive traffic collision on the highway.”

The memory of everyone rushing around, preparing for the incoming influx of patients flashed through your mind. God, you had been so anxious and excited. You wanted to puke, scream, and celebrate all at the same time.

“There were so many people and so many injuries I’d only read about, I had to make so many split second decisions. The residents were there but they could only do so much supervision, I was holding people’s lives in my hand. It’s better than any drug, that feeling of control.”

“God, you should see the look on your face right now,” Tasha reached out, cupping your cheek. “It’s so hot that you love your work so much.”

“You don’t think I have a God complex or something?” All surgeons had a God complex, even if it’s a minor one. You held people’s lives in your hands, their lives depended on your skills and knowledge. It was as exhilarating as it was daunting.

Tasha licked her lips, dark eyes filled with lust. Her attention and touch stirred something in you, warmth spreading through your body until it felt like you were burning for her.

“Baby, if you’re God, I’ll get down on my knees for you every day.”

“Fuck,” You groaned, the tension between you finally snapping. Tasha’s grip slipped to the back of your neck, pulling you across the table for a demanding kiss. The angle made it hard but her lips were soft, tasting of cherry lip balm. Tasha tugged your hair, tipping your chin to deepen the kiss, her tongue caressing your own.

“You taste sweet, baby girl,” Tasha licked at your bottom lip, pulling back when your lungs demanded air. You were dazed, barely hearing the wolf whistles directed your way. “Ignore them, I always do.” You glanced, spotting a group of men in uniform.

“Friends of yours?”

“We’re pilots, guess you could say we’ve all got a bit of a God complex too.” You giggled when Tasha kissed you, the cheering starting up again like you had your own personal live studio audience. “I can kick their asses if you want me to.”

“Or you take me home,” You smiled, taking her hand off of the table and resting it on your thigh. Tasha squeezed your thigh and you bit down on your bottom lip.

“Now what did I tell you about biting that lip, baby?”

a/n: hope you like it! I've got a headcannon that Phoenix is the biggest flirt when it comes to women, just putting all of the men's game to shame.

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wosogf · 3 months ago

Note

can you please tell me what video those gifs of caitlin seemingly checking out the reporter then showing off her muscles is from??? please, help a desperate lesbian out if you can! 🙏🏻

Here's the full video, luv! 😔 Thirst thing thirst

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wosogf · 3 months ago

Text

hard launch

mapi x ingrid x reader. after they confirm their relationship, the public's response makes you feel like maybe you don't belong with ingrid and mapi. an international break complicates the matter, until you're barely speaking to them, and they have to figure out what's wrong; until they have to try to pick up the pieces.

-----

“We don’t like to hide you, amor. We want everyone to know you’re ours. Please?”

The hope in Mapi’s eyes was too hard to resist, quickly transforming into joy when you nodded your head. Next to you, Ingrid whispered a promise into your ear, that everything would be okay, everything would go perfectly. You weren’t so sure. They didn’t seem to understand your hesitation. Of course they didn’t. They were them. Ingrid and Mapi. They were widely adored, together and separately.

Your girlfriends could do no wrong.

Except choose you, apparently.

It was easy to believe them, that no one would care, when you were safely tucked away in bed with them. Feeling Ingrid’s arms wrapped around your waist and Mapi’s lips press into your forehead. They made you believe them; when they told you that while some may have a negative reaction, the majority of the public would just be happy if they were happy.

You shouldn’t have believed them. Shouldn’t have trusted them, shouldn’t have given in when they asked you. A small, very hurt part of you wondered if it had been on purpose; a way for them to show you they were too good for you without actually having to say the words. Logical you knew that was ridiculous, but it was hard to use logic when you were scrolling through comment after comment about how awful you were.

Upon reflection, both of your girlfriend’s would realize the mistake of letting your relationship go public just a few days before you and Ingrid were set to go on national duty. It was a few simple posts, photos that would have previously just included Ingrid and Mapi now including you. You, asleep on Mapi’s shoulder on the plane. You and Ingrid, hand in hand as you walked through the darkened streets of the city. The posts confirmed rumors that had been simmering for months as soon as they were posted. You remembered so clearly hitting the post button at the same time your girlfriends did.

They’d smiled at you, dropping their phones onto the table without another thought. Yours was heavy in your hand, though, and it felt like every comment that slid through made it weigh more and more. The comments were worse under your post, of course they were. It was more confusion on your girlfriend’s pages than anything, but mostly vile insults on yours.

You shouldn’t have read them in the first place, but you were only human. You couldn’t help but scroll through the comments section late at night when you were supposed to be sleeping, search your name on twitter just to see what your new insecurity of the day would be. It was self destructive, yet you couldn’t stop. It ate at you for three days before you left.

The worst was that they didn’t even notice. Long used to ignoring comments on social media, neither of them saw what was happening, and what it was doing to you. In fact, it may have even been bearable if they’d noticed. If they’d been there to dispel your worries. Instead, they’d remained oblivious, and then you’d all split up for two weeks. You to England, Ingrid to Norway, Mapi staying at home in Spain.

You always got a bit anxious before it was time for camp, and any odd behavior on your part was attributed to that, both by your girlfriends, and by you. Because while your brain was screaming for you to show them everything that was being said and beg for them to tell you none of it was true, you refused to be that pathetic. They wanted this so badly, a relationship that wasn’t a secret, and you couldn’t ruin that.

Maybe, though, you’d already ruined everything anyway. Each of them felt the odd and unusual tension when they kissed you goodbye earlier that afternoon, but neither of them were there to see the tears that fell once you were on the plane, leaving Barcelona.

If the past 3 days had been almost unbearable, and you’d been with them, you couldn’t imagine what a week of not seeing them would do to you. You weren’t sure you could survive it.

—

It took Ingrid an embarrassingly long time to realize you were avoiding speaking to her. Mapi, less so. It was the 3rd day of a 7 day break, and the three of you had only facetimed once. Which, in and of itself, wasn’t odd. What was odd, though, was the fact that you’d barely been texting them. You hadn’t spoken to either of your girlfriends unless they’d called you, hadn’t reached out at all. It was unlike you, but even then, both of them just assumed it had been a busy break.

At least, until Ingrid got a text from Keira. The midfielder was wondering what was going on with you, if the three of you had been in some kind of fight or something, because you were acting completely weird. Barely socializing, looking exhausted no matter how much time you spent alone in your room. It was concerning enough that multiple of your teammates had noticed, and tried to talk to you about it, only to be shut down.

You were fine, you told them. Nothing was wrong, you were just a bit more stressed than usual.

None of them believed you, but your answer as to what was wrong remained the same. Finally, Leah instructed Keira to just text one of your girlfriends, and see if they knew anything. If they did, perhaps they could give Keira some answers on how to help you. And if they didn’t… well, there was clearly something very, very wrong.

The phone call that followed Keira’s text wasn’t very fun for you, or for either of your girlfriends. Mapi had to ring you three times before you picked up, and even then, your face was only half in view of the screen. After you’d exchanged hello’s, you fell silent. It was a heavy silence, one that told both your girlfriend’s very clearly that you weren’t okay. They didn’t know why, but they were going to figure it out if it was the last thing they did.

After a few more seconds of total silence where they waited for you to say something, Mapi gave in.

“Amor? How are you?” Mapi wondered.

“Fine.” You told her. Short answers, make up an excuse for why you have to go in a minute. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. They don’t need to deal with your emotions, just like how they probably don’t want to deal with you.

“Really? Because Keira told us you’ve been acting kind of weird.” Ingrid said gently. You forced yourself to look away from her wide, concerned eyes.

Fuck, this was hard. But you couldn’t break down. They didn’t need that. They didn’t need you.

“Yep. I’m fine.” You replied shortly, shifting again so the camera only showed half your face.

“Can you let me see you, then?” Ingrid asked. “If nothing is wrong, look at us.”

With a very forced roll of your eyes, you tilted the screen so that your face was visible. You looked exhausted, which they’d known you would, but they weren’t expecting the completely empty look in your eyes.

“Amor, are you sure you’re-”

“María, I said I’m fine,” you snapped, digging your nails into the skin of your thigh at the hurt look on your girlfriend’s face. Guilt was all you could feel, suffocating, maddening guilt.

“Don’t be like that.” Ingrid said sharply. “We’re worried, and we want to help,”

“I don’t need help. Everything is fine. God, can’t you both just leave me alone? You’re hovering and you’re suffocating me and I’m over it. I’ll talk to you later, I have to go.”

You hung up before either of them could get a word out, throwing your phone across the room once you’d done so.

Everyone was right. You weren’t good for them. You weren't good.

The text you received afterwards only reinforced that. Your phone screen was cracked from the force of your throw, but you could still see what Ingrid had written.

I don’t know what the issue is, but if you’re upset about something, you need to stop being immature and tell us what’s wrong. We can’t read your mind. You owe me and María an apology.

Mapi hadn’t even bothered to text.

It was easier than you expected to push them away, which really just reinforced what you’d been convinced of over the past several days. They were better off without you. You try to convey that in your reply.

I’m sorry to both of you. You deserve better. Don’t worry about me, please. I’m fine.

You were pretty sure you’d never been less fine in your life.

—

Neither of your girlfriends liked the sound of your last text. It was self deprecating, and it just didn’t sound like the you they knew. Their frustration began to fall back into worry, and that worry only grew with every day that passed.

You wouldn’t answer their calls or their texts. None of your teammates could get a single word out of you.

Mapi almost flew out to you when Keira told her that Sarina was benching you for the friendly you had. The only reason she didn’t was because you were coming home the following day.

Keira said you weren’t sleeping and barely eating. The coaches and physios and captains had tried to talk to you, but you said pretty much nothing.

You just kept saying you were fine.

Neither Mapi nor Ingrid were very sure what they were going to get when you came home to them the next day. No matter how much either of them thought about it, they couldn’t put the pieces together. You’d been fine before you left. Maybe a little weird, but nothing compared to how you were now.

Ingrid had barely played in her own match, too stressed over you to really focus on training. It was a friendly for her, too, and she’d never cared less about a match in her life. Never wanted something to be over more in her life.

Mapi was laying on the couch when she figured it out. Snuggling with Bagheera, maybe wearing one of your shirts, and definitely not stalking your instagram.

She clicked on the comments by accident, but the absolute vitriol caught her eye immediately. She read one comment. Then another.

She read them until she was crying, herself. Until she finally had to close the app before she broke her phone by throwing it or something, and called Ingrid.

—

Mapi was always more active on social media over the international break. She must have been really bored to be looking through your instagram, but that was the only explanation for the text you received with only a day to go until you headed back to Barcelona.

Amor, I think I understand why you’ve been so distant recently. I don’t know how to fix this so far away from you, especially when you won’t answer the phone, but I love you so much. None of those people know you or us. We want you, and that is all that matters. Please don’t be too unkind to yourself. Call me if you can.

Ingrid’s text followed shortly after.

I talked to María, and I went through the comments. I’m so sorry we didn't notice before now, and I’m so sorry you’ve been dealing with this by yourself. I understand why you’ve been distant, but I wish you’d answer the phone. I love you, so so much. More than you know.

They still cared, and you didn’t understand why.

You were nothing, and they were everything, but that’s not how they were acting.

It was incomprehensible, so you didn’t try to comprehend it. You ignored their texts, and knew that once you arrived home tomorrow, there wouldn’t be any more avoidance, for better or for worse.

—

Your hand shook as you tried to unlock the door, eventually just dropping the keys all together onto the door mat. Swearing under your breath, you set your bag down to grab them, but the door swung open of its own accord. There Mapi stood, her phone in hand like she’d been tracking your location. Just the sight of her had emotion splitting your chest open, tears instantly filling your eyes.

“Corazón,” she murmured, tugging you in through the door as her free hand grabbed your bag.

“Hi,” you said meekly, shutting your eyes as Mapi’s hands came up to cup your cheeks, her eyes studying your face closely. The whole time you’d been gone, you hadn’t let yourself cry. Not one tear, no matter how much you’d wanted to. You’d done everything you could to push every emotion away, focus on numbness rather than everything swirling around inside your head. As soon as you saw Mapi, though, that was over.

You sunk in on yourself, your head dropping until your chin hit your chest, and all you could see was your shoes on the hardwood floor. Tears clouded your vision, and you couldn’t help the quiet sob that slipped past your lips.

It was a testament to how poor your state of mind had gotten in the last week that as soon as Mapi kissed your cheek, you broke completely, a part of you genuinely shocked that she still cared for you. Still wanted you. She drew you in closer, dropping your bag to the ground and kicking the door shut as she did so. You pressed your face into her shoulder, hands fisting themselves in the fabric of her sweatshirt.

“I’ve got you, amor. I’m right here.”

And she was. She was right there. Even though everything seemed to tell you that it should be otherwise, she was still there. She still loved you. The comments she’d evidently discovered hadn’t lifted some veil from her eyes, making her realize how much she despised you, how much better she could do. She touched you in the same gentle way, held you so carefully. She still loved you. She loved you.

Somehow you found yourself being half carried over to the couch, still cradled close to Mapi’s chest. Once she had you comfortably resting with your head in her lap, you tried to speak.

“I’m sorry,” you cried, looking up with wide eyes at your girlfriend, desperate that she understand that you knew this was your fault, and your fault alone.

Mapi just shook her head. “No, you have nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t realize what was going on sooner, and I’m sorry there has ever been any doubt in your head that I love you.”

And though it still didn’t make any sense, you turned and buried your face in the fabric of Mapi’s, of your, shirt, and let every feeling that had been trying to strangle you for the last week out.

Mapi was there through it all, her hands stroking your hair and rubbing your back. Wiping away your tears as she murmured soft, sweet reassurances to you.

It was still incomprehensible, but you were tired of trying to understand why they loved you still. Why they loved you at all. You were too tired of everything, honestly, and all you seemed to be capable of was sniffling into your girlfriend’s lap, and drifting off into the best sleep you’d had in 7 days.

—

When Ingrid walked in through the front door, it was completely silent, save for an occasional sniffle. It had been radio silence from Mapi since the time you were due to arrive home, around two hours before her own plane landed. She had no idea what to expect upon her arrival, and the unknown made her stomach twist with anxiety.

She leaned down to pet Bagheera quickly, before making her way into the living room. If she thought she was going to find you to be the source of the quiet crying, she was wrong.

Instead, you were curled up in Mapi’s lap, your head resting on her thigh, as you dozed peacefully. The Spaniard was playing with your hair in one hand, the other reaching up to wipe away her tears. If there was anything Ingrid hated, it was seeing either of you upset; she would get this itching feeling to fix it, no matter what it took. Within a second, Ingrid was crossing the room and sliding onto the sofa next to Mapi, her hand cupping the older woman’s cheek. Mapi inhaled shakily, trying to muster a smile for the Norwegian, but it was a weak attempt.

“Hi my love.” Ingrid whispered, placing a gentle kiss on Mapi’s slightly damp cheek.

“Hi.” Mapi whispered back, her voice thick with emotion.

“Tell me why you’re crying.” Ingrid was pretty sure she had a good idea, but she wanted to hear it from Mapi.

“She’s… she’s in so much pain, Ingrid. She believes everything everyone is saying about her. I can’t imagine what the last week has been like and I didn’t do anything about it-”

The Norwegian cut her girlfriend off. “Neither of us did. She didn’t tell us. We should have checked in and we should have realized something was off before we left, but she didn’t tell us, María. She didn’t want us to know.”

Mapi nodded slowly, and Ingrid knew that the Spaniard still blamed herself. Honestly, Ingrid blamed herself, too, and no rational words could fix that. Now when you were laid in front of her, the effects of the past week clear on your face.

Knowing that there wasn’t anything else she could say, Ingrid wrapped an arm around Mapi’s shoulder, pulling the defender into her. With María’s head on her shoulder, and you sleeping in her lap, Ingrid could almost pretend that everything was fine.

In the silence, she could pretend that you hadn’t been subjected to astoundingly hateful comments that had made you doubt the entirety of your relationship with them. If she tried really hard, she could pretend everything was fine.

When the first tear slid down her cheek, though, she knew she wasn’t really convincing herself. Not with Mapi crying on her shoulder, not with you, exhausted, heart battered and bruised next to her. Nothing could erase what had happened, but Ingrid hoped, with everything in her, that it could be repaired.

—

When you woke, you thought you found yourself just as you’d been when you’d fallen asleep, with the environment around you slightly different. It was lighter, in the apartment, with the smell of something cooking wafting in from the kitchen. You shifted, realizing you weren’t lying on Mapi, anymore. Your head was resting on a pillow, two throw blankets tucked around you meticulously.

Low voices were audible from the kitchen, and you rose shakily, feeling weak and exhausted from your breakdown, even as you’d just woken. A part of you wanted to just head for the door. Running away would be the easiest option, because you were quite sure that going into that kitchen would bring about conversations you didn’t want to have. If you could have done anything, you would have gone back in time to two weeks ago, when no one knew about the three of you, and no one had anything to say. Back when Mapi and Ingrid had no reason to question your mental health and your very negative view of yourself. It had felt like they were fixing that, slowly but surely. The response to your relationship had destroyed what self confidence you had built back up, and it was so fragile now, you knew you wouldn’t be able to successfully convince them that you were okay.

But there was love waiting for you in the kitchen, love you didn’t understand but love you craved all the same. And if you walked out the door, you weren’t sure you’d ever find anything like it ever again.

When you walked into the kitchen, it was to find both of your girlfriends sitting at the counter, both looking at something on Ingrid’s computer.

Ingrid turned to look at the sound of your footsteps padding into the room, and any fear you had that she was still upset with you melted away at the look on her face. She got up, practically crashing into you with the force of her hug. One arm around your back, the other pressing your face into her shoulder, she held you so tightly, she hoped it would convey to you that she was never letting you go.

“My love.” She sighed, feeling you sink into her. It was such a relief to have you back in her arms, to know that you were okay and safe, relatively speaking. Ingrid had thought the worry and concern would fade a little at the sight of you, but it didn’t. If anything, it grew. Because you so clearly weren't okay, and she wasn’t quite sure how she’d missed all of this.

Ingrid and Mapi had discussed it while you were asleep; that for your response to the hatred being spewed your way to be this severe, there had to be some foundation to it already in place. For you to so readily believe that you weren’t worthy of them, that you were destroying their relationship, that you were an awful person, you must have had those thoughts before. They hadn’t known that, hadn’t ever known you to be anything but energetic and smiley and happy and loving.

You felt arms snake their way around your abdomen, Mapi’s face come to settle against the back of your head. It was a relief to you, too, to keep being reminded that they wanted you, regardless of what the little voice in your head was trying to convince you of.

They held you like that for a while. Until Ingrid’s arms started to go numb and Mapi’s began to ache from holding you so tightly. Only when you shifted uncomfortably in between them did they finally let go, allowing you to step away from them and rub harshly at your eyes.

It was just hitting you now, the full force of what you’d put them through. And now that you were with them, again, you felt a little silly for how you’d acted. You were younger than both of them, not by much, but that immaturity was clear in your actions over the past week, and you hated that. You hated that you’d made things worse for them when you’d only been trying to make everything better.

“I’m so sorry.” You croaked, desperate for them to know that your intention hadn’t been to hurt them, that you were just reacting in the way you best knew how. They both began speaking at the same time, trying to tell you that you didn’t need to be sorry, but you didn’t let them get very far. “No, I am. I put you guys through hell and that wasn’t fair of me. I should have just talked to you, I know that. I just- I don’t… I’m not-”

Ingrid interrupted you, reaching forward to grab your hand in hers, an almost painfully sympathetic look on her face. “It’s okay. We both understand that you were struggling, and that your first instinct was to shut down. I don’t really understand why, if we’ve made you feel like you can’t come to us with things that are upsetting you-”

At this, you shook your head rapidly back and forth. This wasn’t their fault, they had to know that.

“-we want to talk more, but we want to show you something first.” Ingrid finished, tugging on your hand until you followed her over to her computer. There was a document pulled up, one they had clearly been pouring over when you’d walked in. Both of them stood behind you anxiously as you read, not sure if their idea was going to make this worse or better.

When you turned to them with tears once again pooling in your eyes, they feared they’d made it worse.

When you flung your arms around both of them, a soft thank you falling from your lips, they knew they’d made it better.

It had been Mapi’s idea to craft a statement, one that she’d checked with her agent and the club’s PR people about. Everyone had been on board, so she’d got to writing, as soon as she’d gotten the okay from Ingrid as well. She’d never post it without your consent, but she hoped that it would alleviate some of your worries.

It was quick and to the point, and you could see where Ingrid had vetoed some of Mapi’s run-on sentences. The two of them expressed their disgust with the way people had been treating you in the past week. They had really only ever been on the receiving end of love from the fans, and this was not what they had been anticipating. You were an important part of their relationship, of their lives. You deserved respect, and they wouldn’t tolerate anything else. Their priority was each other, and you. It should have all been things you already knew, but you were crying like you hadn’t known how important you were to them.

They let everything sink in, let you calm down for almost 20 minutes before they started the conversation you’d been dreading. They watched carefully as you settled yourself in the armchair in the living room, leaving the couch for both of them. The distance you were creating made them nervous, and Ingrid couldn’t help but lean forward and rest her hand on your knee. You seemed to relax a little, even giving the Norwegian a tiny smile in response.

Mapi was, again, the one to break the silence. “Amor, I don’t really understand. Why didn’t you come to us with this? We would have stopped it as soon as we knew.”

It felt oddly like a therapy session, with both of them staring at you from the couch, the spotlight very clearly fixated on you as you began to speak.

“At first, I didn’t want to be dramatic. And then the comments started to get to me and I was afraid that if I brought it up…”

“What?” Ingrid asked softly, bracing herself for whatever you were about to say.

You looked away from them, chewing on your lip. “I was afraid you’d agree with the comments and break up with me. I was afraid you were just with me because you didn’t know how to end it. I was just really scared you wouldn’t love me anymore.”

You kept your eyes fixed on the rug underneath you, even when Ingrid grabbed your hand and pulled on it, eventually pulling so hard you gave in and got up, settling in between the two of them on the sofa. Gentle fingers grabbed your chin, tilting your head up, forcing you to look at Mapi.

“How could we not love you?” She asked incredulously. Her disbelief settled something in you, and you wanted nothing more than to bury your face in her shirt and let yourself relax, but you knew you had to help them understand.

“I’m not good enough for either of you. I’ve never understood why you want me, and-”

“Stop.” Ingrid cut in, shifting so that she could look you in the eye. “How long have you been feeling like this? Longer than just since the comments?”

You nodded slowly, feeling your cheeks rise up. You knew they didn’t like you keeping things from them, and this was something rather important. “Since the beginning. I love you both, but I’ve never understood why you love me.”

Both of them were completely silent for a moment, long enough for you to get nervous. “It’s okay, really. I’ve always been like this.”

“Unkind to yourself?” Mapi asked quietly.

You turned your attention back to her. “Realistic.”

She scoffed, taking a few calming deep breaths. “That is not realistic. Not at all. We tell you we love you and you don’t believe us?

“No, María, I believed you, I just didn’t get why. It never made sense to me because you are both so perfect.”

Ingrid squeezed your hand, pulling your attention back to her. You wished they’d sit in front of you or something, so you didn’t have to turn back and forth like you were watching a tennis match.

“The way you think about yourself is ridiculous. If we are perfect, so are you.” Ingrid said, her hand cupping your face, thumb tracing over your cheekbone. “You aren’t tricking us into loving you. We just love you. We aren’t going to change our minds about that.”

She kissed your lips gently, and you hadn’t realized how much you’d missed her kisses, her touch, until that moment. Mapi’s voice in your ear stopped you from leaning forward and capturing Ingrid in another kiss.

“I know this isn’t something you can change overnight, how you think about yourself. But I want you to try, okay? I want you to really try for me.”

You nodded, shutting your eyes tightly. You could try. For them, even if you weren’t sure you deserved it.

“I will.” You promised. “If you both promise that you won’t stay with me if you stop loving me. That if I’m not what you want anymore, you’ll-”

“We won’t ever stop loving you. There is no we without you, love. There is just us.” Ingrid told you, her green eyes boring into yours, making it hard to come up with a response.

“We choose what’s best for us. And we choose you. You are good enough, mi amor.” Mapi promised. Her whisper in your ear sent a shiver down your spine, the words filling you with the sensation of being loved. So much love, you weren’t sure what to do with it all.

“You are good.” Ingrid emphasized, her lips pressing repeated kisses onto your temple. “You are good, and we love you so much.”

It didn’t feel as incomprehensible anymore.

“We want you to love you too. Whatever it takes to convince you that you are good and loved, amor, we’ll do it. Okay?”

You nodded, turning to press a kiss to Mapi’s lips. Ingrid buried her face in your neck, and you wondered how you’d ever considered walking out the door. You belonged here, with them. They chose you, and that was all that mattered.

—

i have no confidence that this is good BUT🤞 i hope you all like this one. it was a labor of love... i think i like it?? who knows.

normally bailey builds up my confidence before i post a fic but she's on a very well deserved fun super cool trip and i don't want to interrupt her so please tell me this doesn't suck! lie if you must!

love to you all 🥰🫶🏻

[also as always, tell me if you find any typos 😇]

975 notes · View notes

wosogf · 3 months ago

Text

i’m so sad this is over omfg

The other Bronze – Epilogue

“You ready Bubs??” Lucy asked softly when you came out of the bathroom closing the dark blue suit jacket you were wearing

“Shouldn't I ask you that??” you looked up smirking while your fingers still fumbling with the last button

“I waited nearly forever for that day... of course I'm ready” your sister snorted and came over to you to fix your dark red tie “... still can't believe it I'll let you wear blaugrana”

“Yeah well... one of us has to look good” you shrugged your shoulders grinning

“Excuse me... it's MY day...” Lucy exclaimed but you saw it had no bite

“Yeah well... it's Ona day too...” you smirked and earned a hard slap on the shoulder

"She's gonna look beautiful.....” your sister said softly

“Oh I know... I saw her dress...” you hummed “... you hit the jackpot with her Luce... you better not fuck this up”

“I know I can't... she'll file for your custody and probably win.. I already lost half of you to Keira...” Lucy chuckled

“Meeh... not half... make it three quarters” you grinned and got hit another time

“Then how comes you always come to me for money?” your sister exclaimed upset but you felt that she needed that little banter to calm her nerves so you played along

“Your cooking is shit, you look like shit due to age and you still think you're in your prime days while you moan and groan every time you stand up from the couch... so... you're my go to for money...” you shrugged but then shrieked when Lucy pulled you into a headlock

“You take that back... I'm not old.. and I still am fit...” Lucy grumbled playfully pulling you around the room while you tried to escape her hold pushing against her hip

“Never... you know I'm right...” you huffed

“You know you shouldn't lie...” your sister gritted out having problems of holding you down

“Are you two serious right now???” you heard a voice and immediately Lucy let go of you holding her hands up in surrender and you stood up straight your head a little red your hair complete out of place “Can't you two lay off for a DAY???!!!”

“Hey Kei...” you smiled waving at her

“Don't “Hey Kei” me.... both of you are unbelievable... and not in the good way....” Keira huffed fixing both of you with an angry glare

“We didn't do anything” you exclaimed

“I came in here and you two were roughhousing” the blonde shot back

“We weren't...” Lucy threw in “... we had a... disagreement”

“You had her in a headlock Lucy...” Keira continue to glare at both of you

“She called me old!” your sister exclaimed pointing at you

“You are!!” you shot back and immediately Lucy had you in a headlock again

“STOP IT!!!” Keira said and you both heard that she was getting angry “It's your wedding day Lucy...!!”

“I know... I was there when Ona set the date” your sister said not letting go of you

“Then get going...” the blonde pushed “... everyone is waiting for YOU”

“Oh shit” Lucy said horrified when she glanced at the clock “... I'm late for me wedding”

“Say it was your dementia and you went the wrong way” you panted out once you came up again getting hit a third time in 10 minutes

“GET. GOING!” Keira sneered pushing Lucy forward

“Jeez woman... shouldn't you try to corrupt my wedding as my ex??” your sister said shocked at Keiras forceful demeanor

“God no... we're not filming a soap opera here... I'm VERY happy Ona actually agreed to take you off my hands when she accepted your proposal” the blonde snorted “.. I have my hands full with your mini-me... one Bronze is enough”

“OY!” you and Lucy exclaimed outraged and Keira started laughing pushing both of you out the room

“Hey Luce...” you mumbled standing next to your sister waiting to get the sign to go outside flanking her right as her best woman

“Yeah?” your sister said a little strained her nerves showing a little

“You look good you know...” you mumbled keeping your eyes forward watching as the last guests – namely Mapí – taking their seats

“Thanks Bubs” Lucy said smiling softly her hands clasps behind her back her eyes also transfixed forward

“I'm proud of you” you said softly as you changed your stance a little getting some weight of your right leg

“No Bubs... I'm proud of you...” your sister said just as soft not missing how you transferred your weight to the left “... I'm proud of the person you became... I'm proud calling you my sister... I'm proud for what you'll achieve in the future next to Alexia at Barca... I'm proud of how you grew with G... how your relationship grew... I'm proud having you standing next to me right now... and one day I'm gonna be proud to stand next to you as your best woman”

“Stop being a sap old woman” you sniffed a little bit hanging your head to collect yourself

“Not old... experienced” Lucy grinned bumping her shoulder into yours

“Okay... you two ready?” Keira asked from behind you ending your little moment

“As we ever be” you said taking a deep breath “.... we better get going before Lucy drops dead... you know... already lived her life and everything”

“You little...” your sister grumbled flicking your ear

“Ow!!!” you exclaimed ducking your head away

“Oooookay.... come on... let's go” Keira immediately interrupted pushing both of you forward before you two starting to roughhouse again

You felt Lucy stiffen next to you her eyes fixed on Mariona who has the “honor” to officiate the wedding when she heard the first notes of the classic Wedding March which announces Onas arrival

“Calm Luce” you mumbled under your breath taking a glance down the aisle “... she's beautiful... I know you're more nervous than you ever where... but trust me... she looks beautiful and I know from the bottom of my heart there is no one else on this planet that makes you as happy as she does”

“Mhm” your sister hums back her face stoic her right hand which was hidden from the guests clenching and unclenching the whole time

“Relax Luce...” you mumbled again this time more serious “... take a breath and remember why we're all here... because you love her... I swear if you made me dress up for nothing and try to run I'll tackle you over Millie style”

“I'm just nervous” Lucy mumbled back

“Why? You know it's the right thing... the best thing...” you kept your voice low “... for god sakes... how slow can someone walk... she fucking Lightning McQueen on the pitch and now I could put new soles on her shoes while she walking”

“What if I forget me vow? What if I hold her back to find someone better?” your sister stressed and you suppressed the urged to hit her

“There is no one better than you... you two are that ying-yang-thing... you balance each other out perfectly... and IF you forget your vow I'm here... I got it saved in me head...” you grumbled glancing back at Ona who looked just as nervous as Lucy “Okay... that's getting ridiculous”

“Bubs wha...” Lucy asked panicked when you turned on your heels walking towards Ona several shocked looks from guests following you

“You mind walking any slower?” you asked when you reached Ona in a low voice “.... if you don't stand next to her in a minute I'll pull you out of bed tomorrow morning at 4 and make you run from San Sebastian Beach all the way to Montgat Norte five times while following you with a quad kicking your ass every time you slow down”

“I..” Ona looked at you shocked

“I don't care.. you two are made for each other... you are nervous... so is she.. kick in first gear and start walking....” you sneer lowly “... by the way... you look absolutely beautiful... and I love you... now walk”

You turned around again marching back up to stand next to your sister and with a small smirk you saw how Ona picked up a slightly – still graceful – faster pace

The wedding was just as beautiful as imagined and you even found the time to sneak out with your girlfriend to have a little.. private time. That was until you heard Keira calling out for you making Georgia jump away from you in fear immediately fixing her dress discreetly whiping her fingers on the fabric while you just groaned annoyed

“What?” you yelled back as you fixed your trousers before stepping into Keiras sight

“Don't tell me...” Keira looked at you her eyebrow raised

“What you want?” you grumbled your girlfriend still hiding behind the small beach cabin

“If I'd go around that corner...” the blonde mused “... would I find a Stanway there?”

“Most likely...” you deadpanned not seeing the point in denying it

“It's time for your speech” Keira rolled her eyes “... fix your shirt before you come back in”

“You could've waited another four minutes to tell me that” you grumbled stumbling behind her through the sand fixing your shirt buttons on the way

“No details...” the blonde said flatly “... come on G”

“Coming” your girlfriend yelled quickly

“Apparently not” you snorted and it earned you another slap up the head from Keira

“Okay folks...” you said loudly to get the attention on you “... I don't WANT to do this but Lucy paid me good money for getting a dig on her... so... why not?”

It earned you a round of chuckles while your sister threw you a playful glare

“.... I want to start off with thanking everyone who had the patience to wait for Ona moving down that aisle... it was truly... extravagant” you threw your sister-in-law a glance and she rolled her eyes playfully “... but we came to an agreement in the end and now we can all enjoy getting drunk so we don't have any memory in the morning about these two getting all lovey-dovey... but now enough of being mean to Ona... Lucy is used to it....”

“Hey!!” your sister exclaimed loudly

“Shut up...” you smirked and now turned towards them “... can I ask a little something from you?”

“I still won't let you watch” your sister smirked getting a dig back at you which made you heave loudly and everyone around bursted out laughing

“I WANTED to be nice.... not anymore” you said when you got yourself back under control “... Ona... hand on the table....”

“Why?” the small spaniard said confused

“DO. IT” you sneered and immediately Onas hand slapped on the table and you smiled sweetly “Thank you.... now... Lucy... would you please mind laying your hand on top of Onas?”

Lucy did as you asked and you took a deep breath before continuing

“Now... look at each other...” you said softly as Ona and Lucy looked deep into each others eyes “Ona... tell Lucy how you feel”

“I love you” Ona said softly smiling

“Luce...” you made a gesture

“I love you too” your sister smiled lost in her wifes eyes

“And THAT Ladies and Gentlemen...” you said smiling seeing several tears in peoples eyes as you took a dramatically pause “.... is a very special moment... we all just witnessed something magical... we witnessed the last time Lucy had the upper hand or the last word”

It took a few seconds for people – the bridal couple included – to realize what you said but then the whole room interrupted in hysterical laughter including Ona while Lucy sported a stoic face knowing you got her good. What no one realized you took small little notes over the years that you now put down in your best woman speech. Little notes about situations where you saw Lucy getting older with Ona... small notes about little loving things them two did without even realizing it... notes of the whispered “I love you” during the years. Notes of how often you walked in on them starting with the day you officially met Ona all these years back. That particular memory made Lucy groan again – followed by a groan from Alexia when she remembered how the two of you met and how you nearly ended up with a broken nose... probably face. You recalled the day after a trainings session when Lucy fell into the chair next to you leaning over to untie her cleats and while she was doing that casually asking you if you have something planned for the afternoon because she needs someone to go ring shopping with. You just as casually answered that you had nothing planned but you wanted ice cream payment knowing fully well Ona would lose her plot when the two of you would come home with stomach aches again because of too much ice cream. Finding the ring was one of the easiest task you ever had. Lucy and you entered the first Jewelry Shop looked around – you starting on the right side of the shop, Lucy on the left – for meeting in the middle spotting a ring and both of you pointing at it saying “That one”. It was a simple silver band – delicate even – with a small diamond that sparkled brighter than the sun.

The proposal itself was just as beautiful and as usual Lucy included you. You got the task of distracting Ona that day so your sister was able to set up everything. It wouldn't be you if you wouldn't go all out with your task resulting in Ona having to take you to the emergency room because you cut your head on a stone under water when you fell of your surfboard needing seven stitches on your forehead. When Ona finally made it home the candles already burned down, the food Lucy ordered (you joked that you told your sister to order from the fancy place instead of poisoning Ona before she got a chance to ask the question) cold, your sister snoring on the couch. The moment Ona saw the little box next to Lucys plate her breath hitched and you panicked and pushed your future sister-in-law further down the hallway telling her over and over again that she saw nothing. Next morning Lucy did get her chance to asked and just as she went down on one knee – in boxer shorts with a tank top while Ona only wearing underwear and a big t-shirt – you stumbled into the kitchen mumbled how both of them should just ignore you as stomped on Lucys foot on your way to the coffee machine. When the small blonde spaniard got asked later in interviews or from friends she said it was the perfect proposal

Your speech included all the little family moments you were lucky enough to share with all your favorite people like Christmas four years ago when Ona and Lucy gifted you your first car – a black Cupra Leon 2.0 TSI. Needless to say you got held up by the police a couple of times because you pulled out the 300 Horsepower that this car provided as you were late for training because you decided to sleep longer than you should have. THAT again caused you another problem called Ona and Alexia who ganged up on you giving you a last warning speech and told you if you wouldn't behave Alexia herself would make sure your car wouldn't drive faster than 80 km/h.

After your speech with lots of laughter, tears and smiles you opened the buffet even if it wasn't your job but damn you were hungry.

“Hey Bubs...” you heard Lucys voice through the phone that was locked between your head and your shoulder as you picked up some cones from the trainings session

“You bored already??” you chuckled into the phone “... you just retired a half a year ago... didn't you steal your wife away to... how did you call it... conquer the world vacation style?”

“Retirement treats me well...” you heard your sister smirk

“Yeah I saw...” you teased as you tossed the cones into a bucket “... looked like you gained a few pounds”

“Love you too” Lucy huffed “... no... there's another reason I call.. you wanna come round tomorrow afternoon or do you have training?”

“ALE!!” you shout across the pitch and Lucy pulled her phone an arm length away from her ear winching

“Sí?” Alexia looked up where she was explaining something to a new young player

“Can I have tomorrow afternoon off? The unfitter Bronze is on the phone” you yelled waving your phone at Alexia to bring your point across

“Sure...” the catalan shrugged her shoulders going back to her task

“Yeah... coming round tomorrow...” you said into the phone “... Luce?”

“For gods sakes...” you heard your sister huff “... why don't you kill me hearing?”

“I tried...” you smirked “... but Ona screaming at you probably toughened you up”

“You know... I was about to offer you Burgers tomorrow but know I'll ask Ona to make one of her knew recipes... she has lovely healthy stuff” Lucy deadpanned and you groaned “... life's a bitch Bubs... you should've learned by now”

“Gonna tell Keira...” you grumbled

“Go on... do that... you know how much she HATES it if you eat healthy” your sister laughed

“What you want Bronze...” you grumbled

“Tomorrow 4PM our place... you bringing Stanway?”

“No... she needs to train... what she delivered today was horrendous” you huffed thinking back at how Georgia performed today in training “She seriously lost control over the ball twice and got Ale... once back of the head once right shoulder... and THEN complained that it was a handball”

“Yeah.... sounds like G” your sister laughed

“She misses you on the pitch you know” you said leaning against a rail

“We all know it was the best time...” Lucy said and you could hear a little smile in her voice

“Didn't make it any easier” you pointed out

“I know...” your sister smiled

Lucy retired end of last season after the last match of Barcelona. Alexia who took over from coaching from Jona last season stood there next to you and left you with the decision of subbing Lucy off or let her play the final whistle. Even at half time you couldn't tell her what your going to do because you genuine didn't know. Barcelona had a comfortable lead going into the second half and around the 60th minute you pulled Ale aside telling her you would sub Lucy out in the 67th minute with no sub. Alexia understood immediately why you weren't using a sub since there was no one who could replace your sister. So as the board went up in the 67th minute Camp Nuo was shocked to see the number 15 in red and no number in green. It took Lucy about five minutes to come off the pitch saying goodbye to every single teammate (even Keira and Ona), shaking hands with the opponent team and the referee. When she walked over to the sideline – towards you – she took off her Jersey and you exchanged it for a new one. No number just a name. Bronze-Batlle. No need to say Lucy broke the internet that moment. She went first to Alexia and after a moment of staring at each other they just hugged the biggest, strongest, tightest bear hug you've ever witnessed both of them having tears in their eyes. After shaking hands with the rest of the staff, hugging some now former teammates your sister came over to you. You were crying big tears already feeling a little lost knowing you'd never see her sprinting down the line again, going in for tackles or play catch with Athenea or Carmona laughing when they got frustrated with her. You knew you'd never see her making an Air Bronze header goal ever again. You knew you never see her laughing again when the opponent team got frustrated with Aitana and Keira. But you also knew you never have to get scared again when she was tackled and stayed on the ground a second longer than she should. You knew you'd never have to see her clutching her knee again and you knew that this was the goodbye Lucy wanted. She pulled you into a hug mumbling sweet nothings against your hair swaying both of you from side to side while you clutch at her Jersey like it was the only thing that keep you from drowning. You knew it was the best goodbye and the end of a career that Lucy deserved. Still you felt like you couldn't breath in that moment but like always Lucy was there for you. It was her day but she was there for you. She also didn't realize until after the game why she was subbed out in the 67th minute – quiet an odd time for a sub – that you were the one subbing her off. Lucy smiled at the question and answered that her career started all these years back in England in the 67th minute against Japan. That night Lucy took her time with the fans and supporters letting you and Ona wait at the tunnel. At least Ona was already showered and non smelling when she pulled you into her side smiling slightly when you fell against her now feeling the tiredness catching up. There was a picture of the three of you later that night online. A fan made the picture with Lucy to your right, Ona to your left as you made your way inside the tunnel. Lucy had her arm around your waist while Onas arm was across your shoulders with you wearing Lucys last game Jersey. The picture was in black and white and it was Alexia who send it to you. You FBIed the fan online – some would call it stalking you call it cross checking – to ask her if you could use the picture for your social media and what it would cost. The fan immediately answered that you of course could use the picture and you spontaneously invited her to a trainings session where she could meet all the players.

You watched your girlfriend emerge from the pool and behind your sunglasses your eyes darkened slightly. She was a goddess and after five years of relationship you still weren't tired of seeing her in less than more clothes. You where currently in a Hacienda in Stiges about an hour outside of Barcelona enjoying your two week vacation after the season ended and Georgia would start training again. By all means you made sure she kept up with her cardio but it was time for that vacation. You now worked officially with Barcelona as an assistant coach still partaking in all the shenanigans Mapí, Pina and Patri come up with – like the initiation of the new players. You didn't care if they were youngsters or known name. Everyone had to go through it. Tooney came as a loan for half a season and you didn't let it be taken from you to welcome her in Barcelona yourself – with a big bucket of waterbased glue. Mapí ripped up two pillows at home (much to the NOT amusement of Princess Norwegian) and the second Tooney was glue covered threw the feathers at her. Pina waited around the next corner with a paper beak and the moment your best friend entered the pitch running after the four of you everyone died laughing since she looked like an angry Stork. Georgia didn't renew her contract with Bayern Munich for next season still hoping that Barcelona would approach her. You already knew they would but where's the fun in telling your girlfriend instead of watching her sprinting to her phone every time it rings. Which you used for your own entertainment a few times casually calling her and then hang up as soon as she was about to answer the “call”. Your girlfriend on the other hand calls you everything under the sun when you made her run without a reason again.

When Georgia approached you at Christmas break about your annual vacation spot you told her you didn't want to fly far away this year. You traveled the world quiet a bit in the last few years and this time you just wanted to stay home. Home in Barcelona. You looked at your girlfriend like she was growing a second, third and fourth head when she told you that she's okay with staying in England for the summer as long as you were there too.

“England??” you asked dumb folded

“Yeah?” Georgia said looking down at you where you were laying in between her legs on the couch as you watched some trash TV and she was reading

“Babe... are you alright? Do you have a headache? Did you run against a doorframe again?” you looked at her curiously

“No... why??” your girlfriend looked confused

“England? Where it rains about... 300 days a year...” you tried to clarify

“Yes... England... me Mum already threatened to disown me if I visit even less... so... we can spend Summer here” Georgia shrugged her shoulders

“I'm NOT spending my ONE week summer vacation in England... next thing you come up with is Iceland or something...” you said seriously before mumbling “... you must have hurt your head somewhere”

“Babe Pleeeaaaase...” your girlfriend whined

“Tell you what... you get your fam to Barca they can take our flat and we look for something outside of Barca for the week... I'll give Joanne a key to Keiras home so she can invade Keiras private life and we're good” you looked at your girlfriend expectantly

“Sounds good... Kei will hate you tho...” Georgia laughed

“She could never... how often did I take the blame now when you fucked something... or someone... up?” you smirked

“Good point” your girlfriend blushed furiously

Now here you were watching her walking over to you in that little piece of clothing she calls bikini and you call tease

“You know this is private here right...” you waved your hand around not bothering to move from your lounge chair in the shade

“I do indeed... why?” Georgia smirked as she picked up a towel

“I don't know why you see the need in putting on... that” you raised your eyebrow at the bikini

“Says the woman who's laying here butt ass naked” your girlfriend grinned back pointing at your shorts and bikini top

“I burn quickly” you shot back

“Oh and I don't? Also... you're laying in the shade” Georgia threw her damp towel at you “... you should cool off in the pool you know... it's really nice”

“I have a really nice view from where I am thank you very much” you grinned giving your girlfriend a once over

“Pervert” your girlfriend laughed as she used her foot to push you a little to the side at your hip so she could lay down next to you

“There's another one over there” you pointed at the second lounge chair

“Too far away...” Georgia mumbled as she pulled you into her side and you could hear that she started to think about something again

“What's on your mind?” you asked softly

“What if it was a mistake to not renew my contract... I mean I had a save good contract with Bayern and I said no in the hopes of getting one here to be closer to you... Keira is getting old and she'll probable has like... two three seasons left and I'm a middie too so I thou...” your girlfriend started to ramble and you interrupted her with a kiss

“Stop thinking...” you mumbled kissing her again “... everything will turn out like it's suppose to be... don't think about next week okay... stay with me here... right here... our vacation...”

“Yeah sorry I know” Georgia took a deep breath “... but sometimes it just comes to the surface”

“Don't worry... I'll push you right under the surface again” you smirked

“Excuse me?” your girlfriend sat up a bit looking shocked

“It... the insecurities...” you quickly corrected smirking

“Yeah yeah... love you too...” Georgia grumbled “... asshole”

“Arsebiscuit” you shot back laughing when you heard her ringtone go off once again

“If that's you again I'm gonna tell me Mum you messed up Sugar and Salt at Boxing Day” your girlfriend threatened you

“I swear I'm not...” you held up your hands and the second Georgia realized it wasn't a prank call she shot off the lounge chair sprinting into the house

You got quite concerned when she didn't return after 30 Minutes so you stood up to look for her. You found her in the kitchen frozen in place her phone still in her hand her face pale.

“Babe... you okay? Did something happen? Do we have to leave?” you asked softly but firmly knowing it was the only way to get her out of her trance like state

“They offered me a contract...” Georgia said her voice barely above a whisper “... Barcelona really offered me a contract”

“Told you it'll turn out like it suppose to be” you smiled relieved that nothing bad happened

“Marry me” your girlfriend looked at you her voice now serious

“What?” this time it was you who was send into a shock freeze

“Marry me” Georgia said again even firmer “... I want you to become my wife... not just like... saying it... I want you to legally become my wife..”

“What?” you asked again still not catching on

“Wait here..” your girlfriend quickly said before sprinting into the bedroom when she came back a minute later you were still rooted in place

“I actually planned it different but we both never work on plans... so... Y/n Lucia Tough Bronze.... I just got the second best thing in my life... I got a contract offer from the best club in the world where my girlfriend is working and now I finally can move in with her for good and we'll save a ton of money on flights and we'll save the environment because no more flying... I said the second best thing in life because the best thing in my life is standing right in front of me... so would you do me the great honor and marry me?” Georgia said and for a second you thought she'd drift off into the environment topic but seeing her holding out a small black box with a simple silver band in it that had a small but beautiful light blue stone in the middle was something you didn't think off when you booked this house.

“What?” you asked a third time out of shock

“Will you marry me?” Georgia asked her voice soft and loving knowing she kinda sprung it on you

“Like... now?” you asked bewildered

“Not now now... like... I don't know.. next year” your girlfriend shook her head a little lost

“Ask again” you pressed her your breathing picking up

“Y/n Lucia Tough Bronze... will you marry me?” Georgia asked again and brought the ring box a little closer like she tried to bribe you with it

“Yes.... yes I will” you said your voice breaking as you cried and laughed at the same time when your girlfriend yelled out a “Fuck yeah” before she pushed the ring on your finger

It was a beautiful ring and the second it slid on your finger Georgia already took your face in her hands pulling you close to kiss you

“I'm not telling Luce” you chuckled later when both of you were laying on the lounge chairs again watching the sunset over the ocean and you kept lifting you hand to inspect your hand

“Well... I'm not telling her either.. she'll kill me” your girlfriend huffed out

“Please tell me you did indeed prepare her in any kind that this could happen at some point” you said flabbergasted

“Course I did... she even told me I got good taste... then hit me when I asked in rings or woman” Georgia grinned and you laughed “... you know why I chose this one and not the typical diamond?”

“It's the same blue City had when we met...” you said when you held up your hand once again

“It is...” your girlfriend smiled and pressed another kiss to your lips “... ready to break the internet?”

“One picture.... comments disabled... phones get turned off right after” you said and Georgia smirked

“Us kissing... sunset in the background... your hand on my shoulder” your girlfriend shot back and you nodded

“Deal” you held your hand out for her to shake

The picture made it through all the social media channels faster than an Australian Wildfire with fans swooning, teammates congratulating and Lucy trying to get hold of you or your girlf... fiancé... your fiancé for three days. It was Keira who found out where you two were hiding and she didn't let the opportunity pass to bring Lucy with her so she can have “her words” with Georgia while you where laughing your ass off when she chased your fiancé out of the bedroom through the house into the garden and into the pool where Georgia was stuck for an hour until Keira showed mercy on her best friend and pulled Lucy away.

“You look beautiful Cari” Alexia smiled from behind you adjusting your veil

“I don't know if I can do this...” you said your breathing speeding up fast

“Deep Breath... yes you can... I've never experienced anything like the two of you... what you share is pure love... the love other people search their whole life for...” the blonde catalan spoke softly seeing how the nerves getting the better of you “... you fought the biggest fits for so long Cariño... and finally you get to settle down and enjoy what you have”

You knew she was right. When your relationship with Georgia got discovered there were a lot of bad mouthing mostly targeting Georgia. It got so bad that you made a public statement on how it wasn't Georgia who made the first step – it was you. No one knew that you've already been together for three years at this point and no one ever will. Not the people who weren't close to you or that you trusted with your life. It calmed down after your statement (and all your friends and family – blood or not – standing up for the two of you). Some comments came back after Georgia won the World Cup with the lionesses and her first way was to you kissing you for the whole world to see until Sarina cleared her throat loudly to break you two up. It still to this day felt weird for you to kiss your fiancé in front of your Mama. Your own mother wouldn't be at your wedding since she expressed her feelings about the relationship of the two of you during a Christmas dinner. It got so bad that you fled the place Georgia running after you and Lucy getting into a fight with your Mother. Sophie later told you that Lucy really got in your Mothers face and ended the discussion with the sentence “You know... you could be so lucky to know your daughter in safe hands... because in me opinion everyone needs a Georgia in their life”. You did got emotional over it and Lucy – big bad ass sister that she is – played it down as usual.

“This is more nerve wrecking than this bloody Champions League final against PSG last year...” you huffed trying to take deep breath

“And even there we won... all odds against us but we won... you'll be okay Cari...” Alexia said softly looking at you through the mirror “... I get to see you grow into the woman you are today... and even if I want to strangle you at least once a week for interrupting my trainings plans and throwing it all out the window... I am proud and thankful that I was there to witness you growing up and facing the challenges you had to face and come out on top of them all... also... if you try to run away I'm still faster than you”

“Thanks Ale” you said softly looking down on your hands

“You want me to get Keira?” the spaniard asked just as soft

“No... I don't want her to see me in me dress before...” you smiled slightly “... I want her to see me the same time as Lucy does... these two brought me up so it'll also be their moment to share”

“So... you do a first look with Lucy and Keira and then with Georgia?” Alexia asked

“Just Luce and Kei...” you nodded slightly “... G will see it when I'm standing next to her”

“Then let's go shall we?” the blonde asked smiling knowing it would be better for your mind to get you going instead of letting you overthink things too much.

“Let's go...” you took another deep breath before turning around heading for the door

Lucy and Keira both had tears in their eyes when they turned around seeing their “little” girl in a beautiful white wedding dress standing in front of them. Thank god there was a photographer on site that'll give you the option to blackmail Lucy years later for crying over a dress. Your sister asked you since when a dress was an option for you

“I saw it and immediately fell in love with it” you shrugged your shoulders a little embarrassed

“You look absolutely beautiful Bitsy” Keira whispered as she took a step closer to look at the fine details on the dress “... like a princess”

“I don't know why but I just felt a connection with it” you said again getting even more nervous

“Absolutely stunning” Lucy said as she too took a step closer to press a kiss to your temple

“You ready Bubs??” Lucy asked softly as she had the handle of the door in her hand that seperated you from the beginning of the rest of your life.

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wosogf · 3 months ago

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Fic Masterlist

Assume all fics are 18+

Laia Codina x Reader

Pretty Please

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle x Reader

Heaven - part 1, part 2, part 3

One Night - part 1

Ona Batlle x Reader

The Show - part 1, part 2

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wosogf · 3 months ago

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I uploaded episodes 1 & 2 of the new FCB Femení documentary 'Matchday'!

Episode 1: https://www.dailymotion.com/video/x88c5z6

In the first episode we get to follow the team behind the scenes for their first match at Camp Nou against Espanyol in January 2021, and then we see what happened before/during/after the Supercopa semi vs Atleti.

Episode 2: https://www.dailymotion.com/video/x88bjz3

In episode 2 we first get to see a regular day at work for the squad where they discuss training and playing football during the pandemic, and then they travel to Málaga to play the final of the 2019/2020 Copa de la Reina final against Logroño, a match that had been postponed nearly a whole year due to the pandemic.

Both videos are password protected, the password to watch is 'fcb'!

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wosogf · 3 months ago

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Ain’t no love in Oklahoma

Kate Martin x reader SMUT

Twisters x Kate Martin crossover

Warnings: smut, praise, fingering(k!receiving), oral(k! receiving), strap on, riding(r! receiving), cussing???,injury, almost death??, use of y/n, cringy cowboy talk, not proof read, blood?, I think that’s it

W/N: I took so long to finish this I’m sorry but I’ve just been busy with a trip and doing preseason for basketball, which I haven’t talked about but I try and write all the time but with school and playing basketball at a d1 school which yes I’m a d1 athlete but I will never say what school I’m at but who knows you might watch my school???????

Masterlist

—————————————————————————

It’s the time you dreaded the most. Tornado season. Both your mom and dad are tornado wranglers so that means they made you be one. The worst part is you have to move in with a family you don’t know just to chase a few tornados. The travel there wasn’t that bad, it was just a whole car ride of side country roads just to get to an old farm real estate. Once you got there you were treated by a couple and an older boy and girl. They all introduced themself to you guys but something felt off. You felt like you were being watched. You look to the left and see another woman around your age, blond, and the most beautiful woman you’ve seen. You smile at her and she just ignores you and goes back to digging a hole. Her mom sees where you're looking and introduces Kate. She just looks up and smiles at your mom and dad. She looks at you for a bit and clenches her jaw. She goes back to work and you just furrow your brows in confusion. Both family’s head in but Kate’s mom takes you to the side.

“Normally Kate doesn't like any new people but it seems she took some type of liking to you. Won't you be a doll and just try being friends with her, I feel like she only stays on the property and talks to us. I’m a bit worried” Her mom is nice to you, do you decide to try and befriend her.

Kate is outside sharpening a tool so you decide to go talk to her, maybe get to know her.

“Hey Kate I’m y/n” you hold out you hand and she doesn't even look at you. “So I heard that your like a you stay at home and just tend to your sheep” still no comment “anyways your mom was just telling me about how she wants us to be friends because you never leave the property anymore and have no friends” no comment but she looked annoyed at your comment “so I just wanted to get to know you I mean your family knows mine” no comment “ I feel like I would feel like so lonely if I was only on my property.” She doesn't care about what your saying

“I mean Don’t you want to find love or something” you were just trying to get some reaction out of her, you don’t know why but you just want her attention.

“Ain’t no love in Oklahoma” she finally talks, she’s a has a bit of a southern acent.

“Really, I thought a fine girl like you would have already been married to a cowboy” maybe confidence will make her break?

“I’m not into cowboys” she never made eye contact when you talked to her, you hate it. You grab your heart and faked being offended. “Their all just cocky, their all the same and they always wear that stupid hat everywhere”

“So you're telling me I’m cocky and unoriginal. And what did my hat do”

“Yes your cocky but your not a cow Boy” she enfisseced the last part.

“What are you trying to say darling” she stops what she’s doing, stands up and gets chest to chest with you.

“Don’t darling me, did they not teach you anything in cowboy school huh?…..” she pauses, her presence in front of you gets rid of your confidence. But you regain it. Her mocking tone annoys you. But why does it feel good to have her look at you for once during the conversation.

“They taught me a whole lot more than you, why don't you just spit it out and stop dancing around it” she looks at you annoyed.

“I like cowgirls you bimbo” her crossed arms flexed to emphasize her point.

“Oh… you could have just said that instead of dancing around it like a chicken with its head cut off”

“The chicken would be still and not dancing” her voice now very monotone.

“Did they not teach you sarcasm in southern school huh?” she just grunts at you and goes back to sharpening her tool. You leave her be and just go back to your parents. This is going to be a long month.

No matter what you did she never seemed to like you, but the times you didn’t look at her she was always watching you. She watched for you to mess up just so she could show she’s better. It’s became a rivalry you didn’t want. But she was always near you, it almost felt like she wanted your attention as much as she wanted yours. That’s why she is there wrangling tornados with you and your parents. She’d always make fun of you for random things like your lasso you kept with you during a chase just in case but she never saw why, she questioned everything and loved to push your buttons. Due to her not being experienced with this scene you felt a sense of protectiveness that made you always put her over you. But that’s where you are now in the middle of a f 3 tornado heading right for you.

You guys had to go one by one to run from structure to structure. Your parents went first and then Kate made you go. The ground was wet making it easy to fall, the rain blinding you from seeing in front of you. This almost felt like being stuck in the middle of a hurricane. Once you got to your parents you hugged them and waited for Kate. But that never came. You all yelled at her to come over but she was scared. She froze. Her structure would not hold together once the tornado hit. She needed to move now with how fast the tornado was going. She wasn’t going to move and it hit you that you needed to help her. You can’t just let her stay frozen. The fear of death hits you but you still know what to do. The whistling became almost deafening. You took off running, you heard your parents scream in terror but you couldn’t let that stop you. You somehow didn’t slip and made it to her. She was crying and scared. She was shaking and holding herself in her arms.

“Kate we have to go”

“No I can’t y/n I can’t”

“Yes you can and you will”

“No no I can’t save yourself I’m a liability please”

“I’m not leaving you behind Kate” you grab her and start pulling her to the next building.

“I’m so sorry, I’m just so sorry for everything I’ve acted like an ass to you just for you to save me”

“It’s ok Kate really” you felt the wind, it wasn’t good. All the gear on you weighed you down a bit. You weren’t gonna make it. You could feel yourself being pulled.

“Kate no matter what happens you run and get to my parents and don’t look back, ok Kate”

“What do you mean, y/n what’s happening” she stops in her tacks, you can’t have this you so close you keep pulling her.

“ On the count of 3 you’ll run and don’t look back, I’ll be right behind you” your voice cracks at the end. Kate sees your face.

“Your not gonna behind me are you”

“Please Kate do it now, run, NOW.” She runs as fast as she can without tripping.

The wind takes you a bit, you fall to the floor and get taken by the muddy slope. You landed in a ditch and found the nearest sewer drain. You found one and connected yourself to the pole outside with your lasso. The whole time in the tornado blurred and blacked out. You woke up to Kate right next to you pulling a metal sheet off of you. Your head pounded as you tried to recall what happened. Your body hurt and your face stinged. You had random cuts on you but the main was one on your face that stinged from Kate’s touch. You finch back. Her eyes filled with guilt. You got checked up by a medic and was able to go home the same day. You escaped with just some cuts and bruises. When you got home the house felt weird. The house felt like weary and sorrow. You hat rested on a table with a candle and a picture of you. They all thought you were gone. Kate became distant that whole day. Your parents and her family left to go to dinner but you didn’t feel like going out. You just stayed in your room replaying what happened. You kept wanting to think about what happened to you but all you could think of is the what ifs about Kate. You headed to her room, opened the door, and she wasn’t there. You walked in trying to find her.

“Why did you do it” you jump at her voice behind you.

“Why wouldn’t I”

“Because you could have died. Y/n come on you had us all greivinv you thinking you died”

“So it’s my fault I saved you”

“I’m not, I just, why would you risk your life for someone that’s done nothing but be a pain in your ass”

“Because I could Kate”

“That’s not a reason and I think we both know that’s not the reason”

“I JUST SAVED YOU ALRIGHT ITS THE ONLY THING I COULD THINK OF, THAT WHOLE TIME I WAS JUST WORRIED ABOUT YOU”

“WHY”

“BECAUSE KATE YOU'RE… new to this you can’t hold yourself like I did” your secrets can’t come out she can’t find out that you care about her so much because of you liking her.

“Why did your confidence break, what are you hiding?” She’s catching on.

“Nothing Kate I’m just scared for you”

“Why are you scared for me” her confusion and guilt mixed on her face.

“I just want to protect you”

“BUT WHY Y/N”

“BECAUSE KATE I LIKE YOU, I LIKE YOU SO MUCH I CAN'T SEE A WORLD WHERE I COULD EVER SEE YOU GETTING HURT JUST BECAUSE YOU GOT DRAGGED INTO SOMETHING IM DOING. AND NO MATTER HOW RUDE YOU WERE TO ME I ONLY WANTED YOUR ATTENTION, I just want you, so bad Kate” she was wide eyed and stuck in thought.

Your mind raced as you knew you ruined everything. In a split second she crashed her mouth onto yours and kissed you. The kiss became bore and more heated. She took your hat and started wearing it. You lead her to the bed until the back of her knees hit the surface. She sat down and pulled you on her lap. Her hands explored you, searching for your weak spots. She swipes her tongue on your bottom lip as you grant her access. Both your tongues fight for dominance and explore each other's mouths. She tugs at your shirt and you break apart to quickly take it off and then go back to kissing. Your body instinctively starts grinding in her lap. Kate chuckles a bit. She rests her arms on your waist as she helps you.

She moves back to catch her breath“You know what they say save a horse ride a cowboy” her smug smirk taunting you. Tilting your hat she’s wearing at you.

“Your not a cowboy” once you say that something switches in her. She’s faking being a cowboy the one thing she hates…. But the thought of ridding her takes over your brain.

“I know I’m not but you wouldn’t care either way because all you want to do is ride my cock don’t you. If you climb the saddle” she points down at her lap”be ready to ride. So you’re gonna take my cock aren't you” you nod at her words feeling your arousal grow.

“Are you ready? Are you ready to ride me like a good girl?”She's close to your face, ready to pounce.

“Yes Kate please”

She moves you off her and looks under her bed. She finds it and unboxes it. She tries to take off her clothes but you stop her. “Wait, please let me” you slowly take off her top half and tease her. You kiss down her neck to the waistline of her pants. You get on your knees and take off her pants. You begin to tease her by kissing and grabbing her thighs. You take off her underwear and continue, slowly making your way up. You begin to blow on her clit. Her head throws back in pleasure. Her soft moans of your name stuck forever in your head. You kiss her clit. She moans and grabs your head. You stand up, leaving her shocked.

“You're gonna have to work for it Kate” she’s annoyed, and aroused, but she knows you're gonna pay.

She puts it on and pushes you back onto the bed. She proceeds to leave trails of hot open mouthed kisses on your neck. You tilt your head to the side to give her more access. She finds your sensitive spot and bites down. Leaving you whining. You go to cover your mouth.

“Don’t you fucking dare cover your mouth, I wanna hear all your noises baby” she goes back to licking and sucking the spot. Everytime she bites she gets a whimper from you. She even starts to groan a bit at your noises. She trails down leaving marks everywhere she kisses

She leads her hand down to your cunt. She brings one of her fingers to drag across it, she collects some of your wetness and puts her finger in her mouth. She moans at the taste.

“Fuck baby, so wet for me, I want you to ride me is that alright.” She sits right next to you as you straddle her lap. She helps you with lining up the strap with your hole. Slowly pushing yourself down. Stopping from time to time to let you adjust. You slowly grind your hips, hands resting on Kate’s shoulders, while both of you are moaning. Her hand on your hips helping you ride her. Her strap hitting perfectly on your g spot.

“It’s just like riding a horse ain’t it baby, aren't you so good at that, you're so good at this” your break eye contact from her praise. She grabs your face and makes you look at her the whole time. “Such a good girl” she is now focused on your neck and collarbone, leaving more marks. She periodically thrusts her hips up leaving you moaning her name.

“You sound so pretty moaning in my ear, fuck, I wanna hear you scream my name baby. Don’t hold back” she brings her hand down to your clit.

“Oh yeah you like that’s, like it when I fill you up so good.” The knot in your stomach forming and threatening to snap.

“Am I making you feel good y/n” you nodded “words”

“YES KATE”

“Well then look at me and tell me how good I'm making you feel and beg for more” she stilled your hips making you whine. “You can take it baby, can’t you”

“Please Kate please”

“Beg for it”

“Please Kate fuck me I need you to fuck me”

She leans into your ear “How bad”

“So fucking bad I need you, I’ll do anything”

“Good girl” she proceeds to pound into you at a harsh pace. Your hands are gripping her back leaving red streaks. One hand on your clit and the other on your hip massaging it. She catches you in the middle of moaning to make out with you.

The room filled with moans, groans, and the noise of her cock pounding inside you. The knot in your stomach is about to burst. She pulls back and watches your face. You both hold eye contact and watch each other's faces contort in pleasure.

“Cum with me baby” she put her head into your neck as the knot snaps. You both moan eachothers names. She slowly loses speed in her hips as both of you come down from your high. Your hands are scratching her shoulder as she’s sucking more marks on yours. Both of you panting as her hips finally still. You get off her lap and stand in between her legs, you push her shoulders down so that she’s laying down. Her legs spread more for you. You take the strap off of her and get on your knees.

Her pussy soaking from her prior orgasim. You lick a strip of cunt making her wither underneath you as you push your face away after. Her hand tries pushing you closer.

“Ride my face Kate” she gets up fast and gets into position. One of her hands rests on your head and the other rests on the wall in front of her. Your hat is still on her head. She grinds on your face as your hands rests on her thighs keeding at them. Your lips suck at her clit. Her orgasim coming fast beacuse of her prior one. You move your dominant hand down and stick two fingers into her.

“Y/N OH FUCK YES” your finger find her g spot immediately and curl to hit it with every thrust. Her hips lose their rhythm as she searches for her release.

“Cum for me pretty girl” her face contorted in pleasure. Her head rests on the wall as she rides out her high. Her eyes blown out in bliss, unable to see her blue eyes anymore.

She gets off your face and lays back on her pillows. Your hat finally slides off as you go up to cuddle her.

“What are we gonna tell them about all the marks” she says as her hands trace all of them on your neck.

“That’s a problem tomorrow, for now we should probably shower” you get up and help her up.

The next day you both hid it from your parents and kept it as your little secret. Maybe it wasn’t a bad idea to come to Oklahoma for the tornado season. You both clearly found love in Oklahoma that you never expected. But just maybe this won’t be the last time your here with Kate.

—————————————————————————

W/N: I feel like the riding face part was not that good anyways it’s 1 am I have to practice to wish me luck igs.

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wosogf · 3 months ago

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hot

has got to be my favorite photo of my gf

ok bye

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wosogf · 3 months ago

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stood up || barcelona x teen!reader ||

you get stood up on your first date, and alexia enlists some help to make you feel better.

there was something special in the air as you got ready for your date. you hadn't told anybody, but it was your very first date. between your teammates and your parents pushing you to focus on school or football, your chances for dating had been slim. at least they had been before you were asked out by the very cute captain of the basketball team, matthias.

matthias was everything that you had been told to look out for in a guy. not only did he look like the literal prince charming, but he was also very sweet. the two of you had run into each other at your school's gym a couple of times, and he had always held the door open for you and carried your bag to your car for you.

everything was going to be perfect tonight, and you just knew it. you were giddy as you rode your bike over to the restuarant. for a brief moment, you felt panic when you didn't see him before realizing that you were early.

it was hours later when you realized that matthias wasn't coming. you tried your hardest not to make a scene as you gathered your things and made your way out of the restaurant. you thought that you were home free whenever you heard a voice call out your name from across the parking lot.

"(y/n)!" alexia shouted. you slowly turned around to see her running towards you excitedly. it could have easily just been an accident running into her, but she was the one who you had texted the location of your date to. "oh, you look so pretty nena. how was your date?"

"i-it was good," you tried to lie. alexia's eyes narrowed for a moment, but she dropped it.

"where is the boy? um, matthew, was it? i would like to meet him," alexia said. that was it, your entire facade came crashing down as you erupted into a fit of tears. alexia held you tightly in her arms, catching just enough to know exactly what to do.

"shh, come on, you shouldn't let that stupid boy ruin your night. did you get anything to eat in there?" you shook your head. "well then, i'll have frido pick up some of that pizza that you like so much and we can have ourselves a slumber party. i know it's hard to believe, but mapi knows a thing or two about being stood up."

"i would have thought she did the standing up," you muttered as alexia led you towards her car.

…

"the party has arrived!" mapi and lucy shouted as they entered alexia's apartment. the woman had never been so fortunate to have a penthouse before befriending the two defenders. she didn't understand their constant need to be rambunctous. frido had arrived about 5 minutes earlier, and with some coaxing, managed to convince you to eat a bit.

"you are so lucky that i love you enough to let these idiots stay," alexia said as she nudged your side. you smiled and wrapped your arms around her in a tight hug. the moment was sweet, and broken up as soon as mapi jumped onto the couch with the two of you. "get off of me, you're too heavy!"

"must be all that muscle," mapi said as she flexed. alexia tried pushing mapi off of her lap, but the woman was a bit too quick. she scrambled fully into your lap and pressed a kiss to your forehead. "you look very beautiful. this boy, matthias, he is the stupidest one in all of spain, maybe even europe. i'd beat him up, but his kind of stupid might rub off."

"thank you for the offer mapi," you laughed. she clapped her hands and cheered as you smiled. it definitely still stung a bit, but you found it very difficult to be upset with your teammates surrounding you.

several more of your teammates flooded into alexia's apartment, filling up the living room completely. if it was any other night, you would have thought it was a party. in a way, it sort of was a party thrown just to cheer you up after your date had stood you up. a party that alexia "no parties during the season" putellas had thrown for you in the middle of the season.

"hey kid, how are you feeling?" alexia asked as things started to die down a bit more. most of the team was laying around anywhere that they could, a handful of the girls having already gone to alexia's guest rooms to sleep.

"better, a lot better. thank you for doing this," you told her. alexia smiled as she reached her hand up for you to take. you did so, knowing that if you didn't, you'd be sharing the couch with bruna, pina, and cata. it wouldn't have been too bad if you didn't already know that pina kicked in her sleep, bruna clung to the closest person she could find like a koala, and cata was horridly restless.

"i am sorry that you got stood up tonight," alexia said as she walked you towards her room. you had slept over before, but this was the first time that you didn't have to bribe alexia to let you watch a movie as you tried to fall asleep. you could hear the opening song of one of your favorite romantic comedies playing on the tv as you entered the room.

"come on." frido patted the spot in the middle of the bed for you to lay down. you excitedly ran over and got comfortable in the spot offered to you. alexia moved a bit slower, but once she was close enough, offered her hand for you to hold as you curled up beside frido. you barely made it 10 minutes into the movie before you were practically dead to the world.

"it's easy to forget how little she is sometimes," alexia said quietly as she glanced down at you. "she looked so hurt earlier, i didn't know what to do."

"you did the right thing, ale. look at her, she had a great night all things considered. this could happen again, and if it does, she'll know to lean on us for support. she wants to be so much like you that it hurts her," frido said. alexia knew that the swedish woman had a point. everybody could see the little things that you tried picking up from alexia since you had joined barcelona. it was flattering, but alexia thought that you'd be better off if you were just yourself in the long run.

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wosogf · 3 months ago

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barcelona femeni masterlist

fics

party girl (18+) in your corner (teen!reader) priorities (teen!reader) balancing act (teen!reader) sniffles (teen!reader) stood up (teen!reader) first (teen!reader) down for the count (teen!reader)

blurbs

none

wips

tiny (teen!reader) better off alone (teen!reader) jitterbug (teen!reader) too good to be true (teen!reader) the high life (teen!reader) translators (teen!reader)

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wosogf · 3 months ago

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One Night - part 1 || Ona Batlle x Lucy Bronze x Reader

Summary: When you complete a dream transfer to Barcelona, there’s only one problem - you have to learn to coexist with your ex-hookup and her new girlfriend.

Warnings: 🔞 | no actual smut in this chapter but contains references to sex and this is just setup for several parts of pure filth

Word count: 5.4k

It takes you all of about ten seconds on your first day at Barcelona to realise that Ona Batlle and Lucy Bronze are dating.

Strangely, it’s not Lucy who gives it away, but instead the young Spaniard.

You don’t actually know Ona beyond the distant professionalism of two people who have played against each other a handful of times over the years. Lucy, however, is somebody you’re more than acquainted with. Intimately so.

You started sleeping with Lucy a few years ago, during her first spell at City. Lucy was charming, hot and available and you were … well, you were young and horny. It was a mutually convenient agreement until she moved to France and you to Germany, when it became obvious within just a few months that a casual situationship was much harder to nurture when you lived in different countries. That’s when it fell apart, heated words fired from both sides then radio silence as if you’d never even known each other.

You knew you’d have to face up to your past when you signed for Barcelona. Lucy’s been here for a year already, but you don’t say no to a club like Barça, not even when you’ve got history with one of their star defenders.

All you can do when you show up for your first day is hope that you’ve both matured enough to be professional about it.

“I’d heard a rumour you might be coming here.”

Of course you find yourself alone with her in the dressing room pretty much straight away, fresh out of your signing photoshoot. The soft fabric of the blaugrana Barcelona kit feels good against your skin, but you feel anything but comfortable alone with Lucy.

“Back on the same team, huh?” you reply stiffly. “Who’d have thought it?”

“The best team,” Lucy brags.

You’re saved from having to make any more awkward smalltalk with Lucy as the door to the dressing room clatters open.

“Lucy, you left your trainers in the-”

The newcomer, Ona Batlle, stops mid sentence when she notices you, forgetting whatever she was saying so that she can instead greet you with a dazzling smile that knocks the air out of your lungs.

She’s pretty. You’re sure that you must have already known this, you just haven’t had time to properly appreciate it, not when you were playing against her and focused on other things.

“Hi. I’m Ona,” she greets you, letting you introduce yourself in return before she turns her attention back to Lucy. “You left these in the gym. If I’d known I’d be tidying up after you, I’d have stayed in Manchester.”

And that’s when you realise that there’s more to the relationship between Ona and Lucy than just being new teammates. It’s a mixture of things that gives it away, the affectionate tone of Ona’s voice, the familiarity with which she teases Lucy, but mostly the look of absolute adoration in Ona’s eyes as Lucy takes the shoes off her. It’s a look that you recognise, because there was once a time when you probably looked at Lucy with that same expression.

If there was any doubt in your mind, what Ona says next is the final nail in the coffin.

“We should stop for groceries on the way home by the way,” Ona says to Lucy. “We don’t have anything for dinner.”

Home. So it’s serious enough that they’re living together, she’s not just another one of Lucy’s flings.

You were never that serious with Lucy. Aside from occasionally carpooling to training the next day if one of you accidentally fell asleep at the other’s post-hookup, you never reached this level of domesticity.

Lucy mumbles something in agreement, tucking her trainers into the cubby behind her, and soon enough Ona is gone as quickly as she arrived.

Left alone with Lucy again, the atmosphere somehow even more tense than before, the first thing that spills from your lips before you have time to think twice is a joke.

“Bit young for you, isn’t she Luce?”

“I don’t know what you…” Lucy trails off and sighs, probably realising that there’s no point trying to deny anything when you’re going to be sharing a dressing room with her and her new beau and will inevitably learn the truth anyway. “Look, I really like her, okay? It’s real.”

You ignore the heavy implications of Lucy’s words, that what she shared with you all those years ago wasn’t real, for the sake of the harmony of the team you’ve just joined.

“I’m happy for you,” you tell Lucy, not entirely untruthful. You never thought that Lucy would be partnered up when you joined Barcelona, but you definitely didn’t expect any of your old history to be reignited either. It’s been long enough that Lucy is just another teammate, someone you can learn to get along with.

…

You do get along with Lucy, in a kind of amicable yet emotionless way that almost feels like you’ve never played on the same team before, let alone slept together on and off for over a year in your early twenties. It’s purely professional, cordial without getting too close to friendly.

You’re relieved, of course. The last time you encountered Lucy was an international match a couple of years ago, an evening which started with heavy tackles and the two of you earning a yellow card apiece on the pitch and ended with Lucy on her knees between your legs in an empty medical room after the game. It was the last time you saw Lucy, the last time you slept with her, the last time you even spoke to her until you moved to Barcelona.

So you’re glad that you can get along with her, even if you’re still trying to wrap your head around how normal it is to be teammates again after everything.

But somebody you really start to get along with is Ona.

It turns out you have more in common with Ona than just being new signings and finding Lucy Bronze attractive. You bond quickly at training and soon you’re hanging out outside of the training ground, grabbing coffee a couple of times a week and letting Ona show you around the city that has become your new home. Lucy gets invited along once or twice but always manages to find an excuse not to join you - whether Ona knows about your history with Lucy isn’t clear to you and you decide it’s not your place to be the one to tell her.

And that’s how you become good friends with your ex-hookup’s new girlfriend.

You quickly realise exactly what Lucy sees in Ona.

She’s got a personality that matches the Barcelona sunshine, a smile that would charm anybody, and eyes that are so big and perfect you’re not entirely convinced that she wasn’t hand-drawn by a cartoonist.

It’s not a crush, you tell yourself. That would be inappropriate in all sorts of ways. It’s just an appreciation.

One that only grows as the season progresses.

Ona does your hair before a game, putting it into a braid that matches her own, and it quickly becomes a pre-match tradition. You sit on the floor between Ona’s legs while her deft fingers work your scalp and pull strands of hair this way and that and can you really be blamed for the direction your traitorous thoughts threaten to move, especially not when Ona was standing beside you in nothing but a tiny pair of shorts and a sports bra mere moments ago? Now you’re thinking about her abs and her fingers.

She taps your shoulder when she’s done, letting you know that you can stand up, and you make eye contact with Lucy across the dressing room as you get to your feet. Her gaze is intense, not jealous or angry that you’ve become so close to her girlfriend, but there’s something in those familiar eyes that you just can’t place.

Focused on the match ahead, you store that information in the back of your mind for later, but end up forgetting about it altogether.

…

There’s some kind of mix-up in communication that means that Lucy has joined you for one of your usual outings for coffee with Ona. You try to excuse your way out of it, claiming that you don’t want to third-wheel their date, but Ona is too nice and jokes that it’s actually Lucy who is the third wheel, before saying that you can’t back out now.

So that’s how you end up sitting at a table on a terrace outside a quaint little cafe with Lucy. Ona goes inside, having insisted that she’ll buy the coffees, despite your protests that she paid last time and it’s your turn.

“You’ve got a good one there, Luce.”

Lucy grins across at you.

“I know. Always had good taste in women, me.”

It’s … flirty? At least it feels borderline flirtatious, considering your past with Lucy. Then again, Lucy’s always been a little flirty, she just didn’t have a girlfriend the last time she turned her charm on with you all those years ago.

“I just mean, don’t fuck it up with her, that’s all,” you tell Lucy, rolling your eyes.

“You mean like I did with you?”

It’s the first time in the three months since you joined Barcelona that either of you have openly acknowledged what you used to have and you don’t really know how to react. Your policy since joining Barcelona has been to pretend that you and Lucy were never a thing. That’s a lot harder to do when Lucy is reminding you that you were.

“It wasn’t just you who fucked it up,” you reply, avoiding eye contact with Lucy out of fear that looking at her might bring up old attraction. “Anyway, that was different, it wasn’t like what you have with Ona.”

Lucy hums, then says, “Maybe it could’ve been the same. If we hadn’t been so dumb and immature.”

There’s much less room to misinterpret Lucy’s words this time. Here is Lucy, pretty much admitting that she wishes things had gotten more serious with you when she had the chance, while her actual girlfriend, the same person who has been nothing but welcoming and an all round great friend to you since you joined Barcelona, is at the counter inside the coffee shop.

“We were around the same age as Ona when it started,” you point out, hoping that the mention of her girlfriend will snap Lucy back into a reality where she doesn’t feel the need to reminisce over your past.

“Ona…” Lucy glances at Ona through the coffee shop window and her expression softens. “Ona’s got a wise head on her. Plus she’s a hopeless romantic. She’s been all-in since the start. Probably knocked a bit of sense into me too, along the way.”

They’re disgustingly in love with each other and it’s enough to squash any butterflies in your own stomach.

“Like I said, I’m glad you’ve found each other.”

The conversation finishes there as Ona returns with the coffees, setting the tray on the table carefully and passing the drinks around.

“Thanks, Ona. You know, I might steal you away from Lucy if you keep fuelling my caffeine addiction like this.”

You say it as if having a little flirt with Ona somehow makes up for whatever traitorous thoughts you were having about Lucy before Ona returned to the table, but at least the smile that spreads across Ona’s face at your words is enough to smother some of your guilt.

“It’s good to keep Lucy on her toes,” Ona says, raising her eyebrows at you like she’s letting you in on an inside joke. “And she’s always saying how much she likes a competition.”

Lucy stirs her own coffee, then sets her spoon down as she leans back casually in her chair as if completely unbothered by the thought of having to fight you for Ona’s attention.

“Yeah,” she says with a shrug. “And I always win.”

…

You’ve always liked away games. Especially now, in a new league. New teams to play against, new cities to visit. And you quickly get used to the expectations that Barça has for its players on away trips.

The main one is the rooming rules. Couples don’t share, you learn that quickly, and also notice that everybody seems to accept that rule. You’ve been on teams before where that’s been an official rule, but teammates have made arrangements between themselves to trade with each other to share with their partner instead. That’s not the case at Barcelona.

The other thing is that while there are some players who mostly seem to always share with each other, there seems to be a deliberate effort to rotate room pairings for the newer signings as they integrate with their new teammates. You’re with Esmee for the first trip, which is a relief to you both as neither of you speaks a word of Spanish yet, then with Ingrid who is just as friendly, having been a new signing herself only a couple of years ago.

You never share with Lucy. Part of you wonders if she’s put in a deliberate request to whoever organises the hotels that sharing with you is just as off-limits to her as sharing with Ona would be, but you’re grateful for it. Though it’s no longer as weird between you, sharing a room with her seems like a step too far right now.

It takes four months at Barça before you room with Ona for the first time, for two nights on a Champions League away fixture in Sweden. The first night is quiet and focused, you talk through some of the tactics from the earlier training session together before getting an early night.

But the second night, after winning the game, there’s a knock on the door when you’re getting ready for bed.

You probably shouldn’t be surprised when you open the door and find Lucy standing outside, given that she’s your roommate’s girlfriend, but you forget that for a moment until Lucy speaks.

“Hey. Is Ona here? Just wanted to say goodnight.”

You blink yourself out of your surprise, then gesture at the closed door to the en-suite bathroom.

“She’s just in there.”

“Can I wait?” Lucy asks.

You hesitate for just a moment, then step aside to let her in.

“Sure.”

Lucy enters the room and you close the door behind her. When you turn around, she’s taken a seat on the end of your bed.

“Uh, that‘s Ona’s bed,” you tell her, pointing at the other bed.

“Oh. Shit, sorry.”

Lucy moves to the other bed, but still sits on it just as awkwardly as she sat on yours. Though it’s mostly normal between you and Lucy these days, when it’s just the two of you, you sometimes remember the way things used to be.

And then you remember that it’s not like that anymore.

“Remember when we used to sneak into each other’s rooms at City?” Lucy asks, with a low chuckle. Apparently she’s reminiscing over the past too.

You glance towards the bathroom, wondering if Lucy is really trying to remind you of the late night trysts you used to have at away games while her actual girlfriend is on the other side of the door.

“Is that your way of hinting at me to piss off and leave you alone with your girlfriend?” you ask her drily, arching an eyebrow as you plug your phone in to charge on the nightstand.

“Nah, it’s against the rules, innit.”

“It was against the rules at City too,” you remind her.

“Yeah, but that’s what made it exciting.” Lucy’s green eyes are alight with mischief, and your stomach does a little flip as you remember the thrill of trying to hook up with Lucy at any available moment without getting caught by teammates or coaches.

And then you feel guilty. Because this is another conversation with Lucy that borders on flirtatious, another split second where you forget she’s in a relationship and are transported right back to when she used to want you.

Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, the bathroom lock clicks and the door swings open. Something shifts in the air between you and Lucy as Ona steps out, hair falling in pretty waves over her shoulders. Her brown eyes light up with pure joy and adoration when she spots Lucy sitting on her bed.

“You’re not supposed to be in here,” Ona teases Lucy.

“I’m not staying,” replies Lucy. “Just wanted to drop by and say goodnight.”

An uneasy feeling settles in your stomach and you’re not sure if it’s because they’re so horribly in love with each other that it’s making you nauseous, or if it’s a lingering guilt that Ona has no idea you and Lucy were just talking about your heated past. Either way, you feel like you’re intruding on something you shouldn’t be here for, making a mumbled excuse about giving them a moment and take yourself into the bathroom.

It’s only when the door is locked behind you that you realise you’re now trapped in the bathroom, while they’re saying goodnight to each other in god knows what sort of way.

You press your ear to the door, then jerk away as if the wood is scalding hot when you realise what you’re doing. If they’re talking, it’s not your place to eavesdrop. And if they’re doing anything else…

Your cheeks burn hot at the idea. Surely they wouldn’t? Not while you’re in the bathroom. But they had been so enamoured by each other that you’re not even sure if they noticed you slip away.

You think back to your situationship with Lucy all those years ago. She always had an incredible knack for getting you naked in record time and somehow, you really doubt that she’s lost any of that charm since then.

What if they get carried away with their goodnight wishes and you’re stuck in here all night?

You don’t know how long you’re left wallowing in your own anguish in the bathroom, it could be anywhere from three minutes to three days, but eventually there’s a knock on the door, which is followed by Ona calling your name. You flick the lock then open the door, relieved to find Ona still fully dressed in her pyjamas and now alone in the room again.

“You okay?” she asks. “You were quiet in there. Not that I was listening! Just that you were in there a while and … and I didn’t hear the toilet flush or anything.”

Ona is exceptionally cute when she’s flustered.

“I just didn’t want to get in you and Lucy’s way.”

For just a second, Ona looks like she wants to say something, but she holds it back and the moment passes. Soon you’re each lying in your own bed, the lights off as you settle down for the night.

Sleep feels a whole universe away. Maybe you’re imagining it, but you think you can still smell Lucy‘s perfume lingering in the room. The air somehow feels even thicker than it did when Lucy was here. You can hear every movement from the other side of the room, every shift of the bedsheets, every breath that Ona takes, like it’s being amplified through a speaker.

“I know about you and Lucy.” Ona’s low voice eventually penetrates the darkness. “What you used to have. Lucy told me a while ago.”

That’s - well, it’s not what you’re expecting her to suddenly admit. You’re grateful that the lights are off, saving you from having to twist your expression into something neutral.

“It didn’t mean anything. It was just a bit of fun. It was never anything serious.”

You hear Ona’s chuckle rise up from the other bed.

“I know. She told me everything. I’m not jealous. That was way before I knew either of you. Anyway, it makes sense.”

“It does?” you ask.

“Yeah. I like you both. Makes sense you’d like each other too.” There’s a pause, then she adds, “Also you’re both hot.”

Not for the first time, you wonder if everything that’s happened since you joined Barcelona has been some kind of bizarre dream, because there’s no version of normal that includes your ex-hookup’s new girlfriend implying she thinks you’re attractive in the middle of the night on an away trip.

You don’t really know how you’re supposed to reply.

“Uh, thanks.”

Ona continues, “I’m telling you I know just because I’ve noticed you’re a bit weird around Lucy sometimes, so I just want you to know it’s fine with me if you two want to hang out.”

You wonder if Ona would still be fine with it if she knew that you and Lucy have almost flirted with each other twice now. Your cheeks heat up at the thought and you’re glad for the darkness that hides your flush from Ona.

“Maybe we could all hang out together sometime?” Ona suggests, oblivious to your turmoil.

“Oh, I don’t know if…”

“We could have a movie night,” Ona suggests, ignoring your attempts at declining the offer. “At our place. It’d be fun!”

It’s such a typically Ona suggestion. Because Ona is sweet and kind and of course she wants to do everything she can to make sure that her friend gets along with her girlfriend without any awkwardness. There’s not a bone in Ona’s body that would even consider the possibility of being jealous of the fact that you and Lucy used to sleep with each other.

And so in that moment, staring up at the ceiling in a hotel room in Sweden, you vow to never let yourself have a private conversation with Lucy again that’s about anything other than football, to never let Lucy flirt with you or the idea of flirting with Lucy back cross your mind, and to definitely never reminisce about Lucy when your hand is between your legs.

…

You don’t manage to talk your way out of going to Ona’s planned movie night, though if you’re completely honest, you don’t try too hard.

When you arrive at their apartment, it’s Lucy who opens the door and you have a brief moment of panic that she doesn’t actually want you here. But you’re quickly reassured by the way she steps aside to let you in and greets you with a mumbled “Alright?”

“Nice place you’ve got here,” you comment to fill the silence, as Lucy leads you through the apartment to the living room.

“Thanks.”

You sit down in the single armchair, leaving the couch for Lucy and Ona to share. There’s no sign of Ona yet and Lucy doesn’t sit down, instead hovering awkwardly by the door, glancing over her shoulder every two seconds as if looking to see if Ona is joining you.

“I know this was Ona’s idea but if it’s weird I can just go,” you pipe up, wondering if it’s really that awful for Lucy to be alone with you that she needs her girlfriend as a buffer.

“No,” Lucy says decisively. “It was both our ideas. You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want you too.”

Finally, to the relief of both of you, you hear bare feet pattering down the hallway from one of the other rooms and Ona appears in the doorway. She smiles warmly at Lucy, brushing her fingers against Lucy’s hand as she passes in a gesture that feels far too intimate for you to witness, then grins at you.

“Hi! You came!”

Ona sounds genuinely surprised, like she half-expected you to not turn up, and maybe you haven’t been as good as you thought you were at pretending your relationship with Lucy is one between two normal teammates if Ona was worried that you might bail on a movie night just because Lucy would be there too.

“Of course,” you say, as you try to relax back in your armchair as Lucy and Ona sit down at opposite ends of the sofa. “So, have you already picked out a movie?”

“A movie?” Lucy asks. Confusion briefly flashes across her face, but then it settles into realisation as she turns to Ona and repeats, “A movie.”

A tiny smirk graces Ona’s lips as she shrugs and says, “What? You told me to get her here. You didn’t say how.”

Lucy seems equal parts annoyed and amused - about what you’re not exactly sure - as she says, “I thought you’d do some of the explaining instead of leaving it all to me.”

It’s your turn to be confused.

“So we’re not watching a movie then?” you ask slowly, your eyes flitting between the two of them as you wait for an answer.

Silence hangs between the three of you, Lucy and Ona apparently both waiting for the other to say something, before Lucy rolls her eyes and takes control.

“Listen, here’s the deal,” she starts to explain, leaning forwards slightly in her seat. “I told Ona about our past as soon as you signed for Barça and she found it pretty amusing. Soon she was asking more questions about … well, about you and us, I’m sure you get the picture.”

Still trying to figure out what this has got to do with a movie night, you say, “I don’t think I do.”

Lucy lets out a groan.

“Jesus, am I gonna have to spell it out? She wanted to know what it was like to ‘be with you’ -” Lucy throws up some exaggerated air quotes with her hands, rolling her eyes again along with her words. “So I told her. Well, actually I told her that if she wanted to know what it was like then she should just sleep with you herself. Was joking, of course, but it turns out Ona’s really into that idea, actually.”

Your eyes flicker across to Ona, whose cheeks are tinged a pretty shade of pink and eyes are wide with a mixture of worry and expectation as she waits for your response.

Turning back to Lucy, you ask, “So you’ve invited me over to fuck your girlfriend?”

Lucy nods.

“Well, both of us, if you’re up for it. We figured you and me already had that chemistry and I know you fancy Ona, judging by how often I see you checking her out in the dressing room.”

Your mouth falls open, embarrassed that your staring has been noticed, ready to protest, but they’re both looking at you with more amusement than annoyance.

“Anyway, that’s us,” Lucy finishes. “Ball’s in your court.”

Two pairs of eyes watch you, waiting for your reaction. Lucy almost seems indifferent, settling back in her seat casually as if trying to play it cool, which almost has you wondering if you’ve imagined her just propositioning you for a threesome, if not for the way that one of her fingers taps nervously against her thigh. Ona, on the other hand, looks at you with eyes that are wide and vulnerable, as if the prospect of you turning them down might shatter her heart.

The pieces start to fit together - the tour of cute Barcelona coffee shops from Ona, the occasional flirtatious comments from Lucy. To know that they both want you is flattering. To know that they’ve been talking about this, planning how to get you into their home and their bed, is something that your mind struggles to comprehend.

“It doesn’t have to be tonight,” Ona eventually says. “If you need time to think about it?”

“No, let’s do it.”

Your words are decisive. If you give yourself too long to think about it, you’ll talk yourself out of it and you can’t deny that this is something you want. Maybe you hadn’t imagined that it would end up happening like this, with both of them, but you’ve definitely thought about them. Lucy, and the things she used to do to you, the spark you used to have that still makes the occasional appearance when you least expect it. Ona, and the way her hands feel in your hair when she braids it before a game, the way your stomach churns with butterflies whenever she smiles at you and those perfect eyes look into yours.

To have both of them at the same time is beyond your wildest fantasies.

“Go on,” Lucy says to Ona. “I know you’ve been dying to kiss her for months.”

Your heart rate picks up.

“Yeah?”

Ona counters this by shaking her head.

“Not months. Lucy’s exaggerating.”

“I’m not. She talks about you all the time. About what it’d be like to kiss you, to have you in our bed. And I told her if she was that desperate, she should just go for it. I know you like the direct approach, it worked for me all them years ago. But no. No, Ona wanted to seduce you. Why do you think she’s been taking you on all those coffee dates? She’s been trying to woo you.”

Your ego swells with the knowledge that Ona, beautiful and kind and funny as she is, who has already pretty much hit the relationship jackpot by bagging herself Lucy, has apparently spent months plotting her pursuit of you.

Not that you had any idea. Ona has always strayed onto the affectionate side of friendship whenever you’ve hung out with her. Maybe if she’d been single, you might have picked up on some clues, but you’ve known about her relationship with Lucy since you joined the team and never had any reason to think that Ona’s familiarity with you was down to anything else but the fact that she’s simply Spanish.

You explain this to them.

“I thought she was just being nice.”

Lucy chuckles to herself at this, then says, “Course you did. Sweet little Ona, welcoming you to Barça. Just wait until you find out Little Miss Perfect isn’t so innocent after all.”

If you weren’t already interested, Lucy’s words fill you with intrigue.

“Come here,” you instruct Ona.

Ona glances at Lucy, as if asking for her permission, and Lucy responds by rolling her eyes and clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

“Don’t get shy on us now as if this wasn’t your idea in the first place.”

Ona’s cheeks are pink but she pushes up to her feet and crosses over to you. She stops awkwardly in front of you, scratching at a hangnail on her thumb until you reach for her hand and pull her closer, leaving her very little choice but to clamber into your lap.

“You’ve been planning this, huh?” you murmur to her, as if you’re the only two in the room. Your hands find her hips as she settles with a leg on either side of your thighs. “What, Lucy wasn’t enough for you?”

“She is,” Ona says. “But…”

Ona trails off, teeth chewing into her lower lip.

“But what?” You prompt her.

There’s a brief moment where time seems to stand still, except for the visible rise and fall of Ona’s chest as she breathes, then she answers, “But I wanted you too.”

Hearing Ona vocalise her desire for you gives you a rush that comes second only to scoring a goal in a cup final.

It makes you giddy. And you really don’t want to fuck it up, which is why you take a few deep breaths in time with the strokes of your hands up and down Ona’s thighs as you compose yourself before you speak again.

“All those times you took me out for coffee, all the times you translated for me in training or did my hair before a game, you were thinking about this, weren’t you? About having my hands on your body.” You lean closer until your foreheads rest against each other, hot breath mingling in the almost nonexistent gap between your mouths, then whisper, “My lips against your skin.”

Ona tilts her chin up slightly, trying to tempt you into finally closing the gap. When you don’t, she resorts to begging.

“Please.”

“What do you want?” You want to coax it out of her, committing every part of this moment to memory. “Tell me.”

“Kiss me.”

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