delfiore

[delfiore]

well this y/n will be over the moon because aitana’s back from camp 💀

—SAD TO BREATHE (THE AIR WHEN YOU'RE NOT THERE).

pairing: aitana bonmatí x uswnt!reader

synopsis: aitana leaves for the international break and you become a mopey little shit.

word count: 1.1k

a/n: something short and sweet to get me back into the writing groove. the final inspired me this. and yk what this was nice, writing fluff ... is nice (sometimes).

It was embarrassing, really, the way you moped.

Unapologetically, you pouted and rolled around on the couch, convulsing and whining the way a child would beg for more candy. You would be convulsing and whining standing up if you weren’t so hung over from all the alcohol and clubbing you had done the past two days (most of which was justified, most of it).

“Do you have to go?” You knew the answer to that. In your mind, you looked very convincing. You’d hoped Aitana would notice and take pity on you and spare you a glance amidst her running around the house to pack.

“Amor, I’ll be back in two weeks.” Then she switched to Catalan. “[Plus you’re going soon too anyway.]”

It was true that the USWNT camp would assemble tomorrow, but that was one more day you would have liked to spend with Aitana after all the chaos of the Champions League weekend. The whirlwind of Barcelona’s victory has left little time for you to be alone with her. As soon as the match was over, the celebrations began, and Carla and the media team deemed that most of it should be on record. You wanted to be with your girlfriend so badly, but with Aitana dutifully attending to Carla’s every PR need, you were left pouting and giving her sad puppy eyes long before this morning.

“But-but—” you groaned as another wave of the pounding headache hit you, and you lay back down on the cushions.

“You see, this is why you shouldn’t drink so much.” She said, standing in front of you for a second to check that you weren’t going to vomit everywhere on the new couch.

“I’m sleepy. Come cuddle, please.”

You watched her stuff another pair of pants into the suitcase that lay open in the middle of the living room. “I didn’t ask you to get up with me.” She didn’t look amused. Somehow, it spurred you on even more, to know that she was having none of your shit but still engaged.

“But I always notice when you’re not in bed with me,” you whined again. “Can’t sleep after that.”

Aitana shook her head, barely acknowledging your predicament, scanning her suitcase, then went back upstairs.

With Herculean willpower, you stood up and followed her up the stairs. You stopped at the door of your shared bedroom, watching her collect her things from the en-suite bathroom.

“It’s just, I’m gonna miss you,” you said pathetically, “a lot.”

You didn’t know why, but this particular stint between this upcoming international break and the last felt much longer than others. It might have had something to do with the many things that happened during it—the many trophies that, looking back, you thought the team must have been running on crack to have won all of them whilst keeping yourselves fit and sane. In the middle of all that, you had Aitana, and she had you. The spotlight wasn’t easy, but it was alright because you both had each other to return to at the end of the night.

Finally, your pout must have worked because Aitana set her toiletry bag down on the counter when she met your eyes in the mirror. “Oh, amor. Why are you acting like a child?”

You didn’t care that you were; you just wanted your girlfriend to hold you before duties take her away.

Resting your head on her shoulder, you let out a sigh of desperation when she put her arms around your waist.

“I’m gonna die here, all alone, all by myself, and you don’t even care.”

“You’re not going to die, Y/N,” Aitana scoffed, but she held you closer. “[I’m sorry we didn’t spend much time together after the match]. Winning is exhausting, sí?”

You blew a raspberry. “Can’t wait for this season to be over.”

“No, you don’t, because then it means we’re going to the Olympics.”

You groaned, and plopped yourself onto the bed. “I don’t like playing against you.”

Aitana giggled, the sound floating like music in your ears. “Why? Scared you’ll lose?”

“Excuse you!” You put your hands on your hips. “I’m calling it, you guys versus us in the final. Better start practicing those free kicks.” You grinned and pulled her close, bumping your nose against her stomach.

“We’ll see.” When she leaned down to kiss you, you were ready and puckered your lips, but Aitana had the audacity to evade you and pecked your forehead instead.

She grabbed your chin and finally bestowed on your lips the kiss that you had been yearning for.

It’s not ever easy to let down your defenses, but with Aitana it felt so easy to do so. You never thought you’d ever be this lucky, certainly not two years ago, when you first transferred to Barcelona and Aitana started consuming your every thought. From the moment you laid eyes upon that beautiful smile and her unstinting kindness, you knew you were gone.

The memory of your first meeting lingered in your mind as your girlfriend dragged her suitcase towards the front door.

“I’ll call you when I get to camp,” she said.

“You promise?”

“Yes, promise. Now come here.” Her hands found yours and tugged you forward as you grinned. How could you not smile when her face was so close to yours? “I love you.”

You cupped her face and kissed her softly. “T’estimo.”

“Don’t be too sad, okay? It will go by quickly.” At least she pitied you enough to reassure you.

As you watched her get into her Uber, you could only wish she was right.

Aitana kept her promise and FaceTimed you once she had settled at camp a few hours later. The conversation didn’t last long, as she had to go quickly after that.

“I’m sorry,” you remembered saying.

“For what, my love?”

“For being clingy,” you laughed and shrugged. “I don’t know . . .”

It was a surprise, then, after you had packed your things for your early flight back to the States that night, that she called you again before you went to bed.

“Babe, is everything alright?” You had feared the worst when she texted you.

Are you still awake? Can we talk?

Super cryptic.

“Yes, everything is good.” After a quick pause, she said, “I couldn’t sleep. I miss you.”

A large grin crept onto your lips. “Well well well, how the tables have turned.”

As you heard a groan on the other side of the phone, you laughed, and thanked your lucky star above that you had someone like Aitana to look forward to coming home to.

[delfiore]

—SAD TO BREATHE (THE AIR WHEN YOU'RE NOT THERE).

pairing: aitana bonmatí x uswnt!reader

synopsis: aitana leaves for the international break and you become a mopey little shit.

word count: 1.1k

a/n: something short and sweet to get me back into the writing groove. the final inspired me this. and yk what this was nice, writing fluff ... is nice (sometimes).

It was embarrassing, really, the way you moped.

Unapologetically, you pouted and rolled around on the couch, convulsing and whining the way a child would beg for more candy. You would be convulsing and whining standing up if you weren’t so hung over from all the alcohol and clubbing you had done the past two days (most of which was justified, most of it).

“Do you have to go?” You knew the answer to that. In your mind, you looked very convincing. You’d hoped Aitana would notice and take pity on you and spare you a glance amidst her running around the house to pack.

“Amor, I’ll be back in two weeks.” Then she switched to Catalan. “[Plus you’re going soon too anyway.]”

It was true that the USWNT camp would assemble tomorrow, but that was one more day you would have liked to spend with Aitana after all the chaos of the Champions League weekend. The whirlwind of Barcelona’s victory has left little time for you to be alone with her. As soon as the match was over, the celebrations began, and Carla and the media team deemed that most of it should be on record. You wanted to be with your girlfriend so badly, but with Aitana dutifully attending to Carla’s every PR need, you were left pouting and giving her sad puppy eyes long before this morning.

“But-but—” you groaned as another wave of the pounding headache hit you, and you lay back down on the cushions.

“You see, this is why you shouldn’t drink so much.” She said, standing in front of you for a second to check that you weren’t going to vomit everywhere on the new couch.

“I’m sleepy. Come cuddle, please.”

You watched her stuff another pair of pants into the suitcase that lay open in the middle of the living room. “I didn’t ask you to get up with me.” She didn’t look amused. Somehow, it spurred you on even more, to know that she was having none of your shit but still engaged.

“But I always notice when you’re not in bed with me,” you whined again. “Can’t sleep after that.”

Aitana shook her head, barely acknowledging your predicament, scanning her suitcase, then went back upstairs.

With Herculean willpower, you stood up and followed her up the stairs. You stopped at the door of your shared bedroom, watching her collect her things from the en-suite bathroom.

“It’s just, I’m gonna miss you,” you said pathetically, “a lot.”

You didn’t know why, but this particular stint between this upcoming international break and the last felt much longer than others. It might have had something to do with the many things that happened during it—the many trophies that, looking back, you thought the team must have been running on crack to have won all of them whilst keeping yourselves fit and sane. In the middle of all that, you had Aitana, and she had you. The spotlight wasn’t easy, but it was alright because you both had each other to return to at the end of the night.

Finally, your pout must have worked because Aitana set her toiletry bag down on the counter when she met your eyes in the mirror. “Oh, amor. Why are you acting like a child?”

You didn’t care that you were; you just wanted your girlfriend to hold you before duties take her away.

Resting your head on her shoulder, you let out a sigh of desperation when she put her arms around your waist.

“I’m gonna die here, all alone, all by myself, and you don’t even care.”

“You’re not going to die, Y/N,” Aitana scoffed, but she held you closer. “[I’m sorry we didn’t spend much time together after the match]. Winning is exhausting, sí?”

You blew a raspberry. “Can’t wait for this season to be over.”

“No, you don’t, because then it means we’re going to the Olympics.”

You groaned, and plopped yourself onto the bed. “I don’t like playing against you.”

Aitana giggled, the sound floating like music in your ears. “Why? Scared you’ll lose?”

“Excuse you!” You put your hands on your hips. “I’m calling it, you guys versus us in the final. Better start practicing those free kicks.” You grinned and pulled her close, bumping your nose against her stomach.

“We’ll see.” When she leaned down to kiss you, you were ready and puckered your lips, but Aitana had the audacity to evade you and pecked your forehead instead.

She grabbed your chin and finally bestowed on your lips the kiss that you had been yearning for.

It’s not ever easy to let down your defenses, but with Aitana it felt so easy to do so. You never thought you’d ever be this lucky, certainly not two years ago, when you first transferred to Barcelona and Aitana started consuming your every thought. From the moment you laid eyes upon that beautiful smile and her unstinting kindness, you knew you were gone.

The memory of your first meeting lingered in your mind as your girlfriend dragged her suitcase towards the front door.

“I’ll call you when I get to camp,” she said.

“You promise?”

“Yes, promise. Now come here.” Her hands found yours and tugged you forward as you grinned. How could you not smile when her face was so close to yours? “I love you.”

You cupped her face and kissed her softly. “T’estimo.”

“Don’t be too sad, okay? It will go by quickly.” At least she pitied you enough to reassure you.

As you watched her get into her Uber, you could only wish she was right.

Aitana kept her promise and FaceTimed you once she had settled at camp a few hours later. The conversation didn’t last long, as she had to go quickly after that.

“I’m sorry,” you remembered saying.

“For what, my love?”

“For being clingy,” you laughed and shrugged. “I don’t know . . .”

It was a surprise, then, after you had packed your things for your early flight back to the States that night, that she called you again before you went to bed.

“Babe, is everything alright?” You had feared the worst when she texted you.

Are you still awake? Can we talk?

Super cryptic.

“Yes, everything is good.” After a quick pause, she said, “I couldn’t sleep. I miss you.”

A large grin crept onto your lips. “Well well well, how the tables have turned.”

As you heard a groan on the other side of the phone, you laughed, and thanked your lucky star above that you had someone like Aitana to look forward to coming home to.

[delfiore]

what an incredible moment for alexia.

2 years struggling with an ACL injury, then all the back and forth with contract negotiations.

and when she returned she wasn’t getting the minutes she wanted, even in today’s game. she comes in in extra time and scores a banger.

also big ups to the girls for holding that defense with an iron grip. i do think there was a luck element on our side today, but it’s all a part of football.

alexia and aitana, 2 big time players stepping up to the occasion to help us past the finish line.

special shoutout to lucy creating chances, cata for channeling her inner prime neuer, and ona for taking the boot to that beautiful face like a champ.

I’M BUZZING

[delfiore]

HOLY FUCKING SHIT ALEXIA

SHE DID THE BOW SHE DID THE BOW SHE DID THE BO

I’M TRYING SO HARD NOT TO SCREAM

[delfiore]

MY BABYYYYYY

[delfiore]

man on a day like this you really need the experience and work rate like that of lucy. she’s really our best player rn

[delfiore]

THIS IS THE THIRD TIME MY HEART HAS STOPPED AT THOSE DANGEROUS CROSSES INTO THE BOX

[delfiore]

YES BARCA I NEVER DOUBTED YOU

[delfiore]

[delfiore]

quick update

Hi y'all! I'm just dropping by to let you know that I'm alive (clearly if you saw my yapping for the Barça game yesterday). I haven't had the time to write the past couple of weeks, and probably won't for the next 3 weeks until I graduate. I'm really sorry and I promise I'll try to write. Part 2 of my recent Alexia fic is underway and I'm also thinking of writing for Jessie Fleming.

If you want to drop a DM or an anonymous ask to yap at me, I'm always happy to respond (albeit not very quick for the time being).

Alright, peace out. Get ready for angst in part 2.

[delfiore]

I agree that Ingrid shouldn't have come off, but I do understand why Ona had to... She just wasn't having a good day today, a lot of mistakes :(

same, but i was hoping we could have gotten more of her speed down the flank

[delfiore]

we’re too used to opponents giving us space so once we’re being pressed we get stuck on ideas. this is what happened with sk brann and it’s happening again. we’ve seen what this team can do in tight spaces, we did it in the beginning, it’s what they practice day in and day out.

that being said, SO many missed chances towards the end. my god if alexia had put that last one in…

salma is a winger not a striker, play her on the wing.

ona and ingrid shouldn’t have come off.

we cannot allow them to press us like that again.

nobody mention the c word around me until next week.

[delfiore]

everyone is tired, they’re discouraged for those close calls… we just need one TINY moment of clarity and inspiration

FUCKSBDHENNAXBAMAK (typing as we missed that ball)

[delfiore]

we’ve seemingly dozed off …

patri my hero, mayra ramirez is so hard to stop

[delfiore]

F U C K

[delfiore]

i think somebody alr said it but less crosses into the box and utilize those passes to find space. through balls to salma won’t be enough cause salma alone upfront won’t be able to fight off 3 defenders no matter how fast she is

they’re trapping us in midfield

[delfiore]

man that entire play for the goal was sick ngl, good passing and spatial awareness

(as you can see i am not worried, if anything i’m awake now)