#LIGA 1|2|3

[lacamisetamx]

Lobos CARH vs EFIX 3-2 emoción total

Lobos CARH vs EFIX 3-2 emoción total Lobos CARH en acción: Descubre los momentos más emocionantes y los goles que marcaron la diferencia. ¡Prepárate para un resumen lleno de adrenalina y pasión en la cancha! ⚽🔥 #LobosCARH #FútbolEmocionante

¡Emocionante Encuentro en el Estadio Arriola! Primer Tiempo: En el inicio del partido, el marcador sigue en cero a cero, pero el juego no defrauda en lo más mínimo. Los primeros 10 minutos han sido de gran intensidad y aunque los goles brillan por su ausencia, las jugadas y el ritmo del partido son dignos de el más alto nivel. La defensa se impone en el aire, buscando rechazar los ataques del…

[mysticfalls01]

The Draw

(Williamson!reader)

The Wonder Twins Universe

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

During your international break you talked with Leah about your feelings for certain Catalonian captain. She couldn’t help but to smile while she listened how you talked about Alexia. She confirmed that moving to Barcelona was the perfect move.

Also, during the third day of the break Mapi called you. She hated how everything was going with Vilda, how he and his staff treated the girls and how they made them train extra hours. You let Mapi to vent out all her frustrations, all her feelings at that moment it was everything you could do for her. You were worried for Mapi and the girls. 

After the international break Lucy, Keira and you returned to Barcelona.

Playing with the Lionesses gave you that energy boost that you needed, you guys had two out of two possible victories. While playing in Barcelona has been amazing nothing could compare to the feeling of playing alongside your twin.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

You were over the moon, since Liga F started Barcelona hadn’t lost a single game. You had won a spot in the starting 11 and you couldn’t have been happier, with each game you only get better. Barcelona was really your home, your dream team.

Two weeks after the international break you and the girls found yourselves sitting down in the media room watching the Champions League draw for the group stages.

Until that moment the group was the next: FC Barcelona, Sporting de Lisboa, and Bayern München. There was only one team left to complete the group. Everyone turned their heads towards the TV to learn who would be their final rival.

“Joining in group D is going to be…”

The suspense was killing everyone in the room, that was until a team was mentioned.

“Arsenal”

As soon as that word left the mouth of the presenter you stood up and left the room. You couldn’t support the pity looks that your teammates were giving you.

You couldn’t believe it, of all the possible teams it had to be Arsenal, you were going to be playing against your previous team. Against some of your best friends and most importantly against Leah.

You had always played with Leah, never against her.

You couldn’t hear it but as soon as you left Mapi stood up and followed you. You ran towards the training ground as you needed fresh air, you were having a panic attack.

You felt a hand rubbing your back and that person said “y/n! Breath, follow my breath. One, two, three. Again y/nn one, two, three. You are doing amazing y/nn”

As soon as you kinda calmed down you realized that the person helping you was Mapi.

She gave you a few more minutes to calm down.

“Gracias por tu ayuda Mapi” (Thank you for helping me Mapi) you whispered and hugged her

“What is going on your head y/nn? Please talk to me.” She could imagine what was going on however she wanted to hear it from you.

“I’m not necessarily worried about playing against Arsenal itself. I’m worried about playing against Leah. All I’ve ever known is playing with her not against her, I knew that it could happen, but I expected it to happen later on”

Mapi knew that she would never understand what it meant to play against a sister, nerveless twin against twin. She knew that the only thing she could do was to help you to accept what just had happened.

“y/n I will never be able understand what you are feeling but I feel as if I have known Leah for ages because of everything you’ve told me. She would be proud of you if you give your everything against them. I know that nothing can break the bond that you have with her and if there is something that could do it wouldn’t be something as simple as a result from a match”

You needed to hear those words; your feelings were all over the place.

“y/nn why don’t you go back to your apartment and call her. I’ll explain everything to Jonatan so go back home and rest. If you miss one day of training nothing will happen. I’m sure that he will understand”

At that moment you couldn’t have been more grateful for Mapi.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

After your call with Leah you realized that Mapi was right. While it would be difficult to play against Leah you guys promised to give your best versions of yourselves against each other.

You were sitting in your living room still thinking about the draw when the sound of someone knocking on your door interrupted your thoughts.

You stood up and opened your door. It was Alexia.

“Hola y/n. Puedo pasar?” (Hi y/n may I come in?) She said with a soft voice.

As soon as she said those words you let her in.

“I don’t want to sound rude but what are you doing here Ale?”

“Well y/nn I just went to the store, and I brought popcorn and some ice cream. I was thinking that we could watch a movie to distract you for a while. What do you say y/nn?”

If after almost three months in Barcelona you hadn’t fallen in love with her, you just did. Usually, you were the one cheering up everyone else and not the other way around so, Alexia doing that for you just made your feelings for her grow even stronger.

“Let’s do it Ale”

While the movie was on you could help but to look down towards the Spaniard who was cuddling you. She felt you looking at her and then it finally happened.

You kissed her and she kissed back. You guys separated to breathe some air. You joined your foreheads and whispered “Let me take you out on a date Ale”

“Si, y/n” she whispered and gave you a kiss again.

You guys separated when you heard someone knocking on your door. You quickly fixed yourself and opened the door.

You couldn’t believe it, it was some of your teammates with Mapi at the front.

“y/n! We are having bonding time in your apartment so let us in”

She walked through your door and let herself and the team in.

You knew why Mapi was doing this. You couldn’t believe how lucky you were to call someone as her your best friend.

“y/n is there something you want to tell us about Ale already being here?” She couldn’t help but to tease you while rising her eyebrow.

You never answered and just told them to sit down.

Barca was really your second family.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Arsenal vs Barcelona

How lucky were you. Your second Champions League game with Barcelona was going to be in the Emirates Stadium.

The team arrived to the stadium and everywhere you looked you couldn’t help but to remember everything you went through with Arsenal.

Before you knew it was time to line up in the tunnel. You greeted every single person of your former team. Finally, you reached the person next to Marta Torrejón and hugged her.

“Sis no matter the result nothing will affect our relationship. You are my sister, my best friend, and my twin. I love you y/n” Leah whispered

“Thanks Lee, I needed to hear those words sis. I love you sis”

You went back to your place and the teams walked out.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

You heard the final whistle and finally you could breathe.

Barcelona won 0-4 with you assisting Aitana and scoring the last goal in the 88th minute, taking home the player of the match award. Even if you assisted and scored you didn’t celebrate them, you couldn’t do it. You had too much respect and you were grateful towards Arsenal and the gunners for everything they did for you and your sister.

You walked towards Leah, you knew that losing was difficult for her so, you hugged her.

“Can we swap jerseys Lee?”

“Of course y/nn”

You took off your Barcelona’s jersey and she took off hers. She hugged you and whispered “I’m so proud of you sis, you are on the way of becoming one of the greatest to ever play this game.”

You guys decided to sit down in the middle of the pitch looking how fans were leaving and how both teams greeted each other. You couldn’t help but to rest your head on Leah’s shoulder taking everything in. You guys stayed there until Katie gave Leah a sign to stand up while Patri gave you a sign indicating that Barcelona was going back to their hotel.

While hugging for a final time that day Leah whispered “Next time you guys won’t be so lucky”

You laughed at her words as you knew that it was her competitive nature talking.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

[kyuala]

a energia que cada um do cast exala de acordo comigo

fonte: vozes da minha cabeça. vamo lá

enzo: ele exala uma energia de noivo. tipo assim mais que um namorado porém ainda não é um marido. mas total deixaria o planejamento da festa com vc ele não liga e só paga os boletos (suspirando como quem diz "o que que eu não faço por vc hein olha o preço dessas flores")

agustín: 100% maridão mas daqueles que ainda tem um relacionamento jovial. vcs literalmente são só namorados que um dia resolveram ir no cartório casar e só contaram pra família 3 meses depois

matías: namorado atentado. não te deixa em paz um segundo, só tira foto feia sua, imita e zoa tudo que vc fala e só pensa em sexo mas fica 15 minutos sem dar atenção pra ele pra ver se ele não fica murchinho rapidinho. 1 semana sem vc e ele já perde a vontade de viver e fica de cama

fran: namorado bff!!! não importa se vcs já eram melhores amigos antes ou se foram construindo essa amizade junto com o romance entre vcs, ele com certeza vai se tornar seu bestie em algum momento. fazem tudo juntos, dividem os mesmos grupos de amigos e saem pros mesmos rolês mas nunca fica chato pq o fran consegue deixar TUDO divertido e respeita sua individualidade. 300% seu parceiro de fofoca

kuku: MARIDO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! o date semanal de vcs é fazer despesa no mercado, cozinhar juntos enquanto bebem vinho e depois ele te maceta até vc esquecer dos problemas no serviço e até do seu próprio nome. vcs tem aí entre 2 a 3 filhas que adoram testar make e penteados novos nele. nao perde um chá da tarde com as filhas e seus ursinhos de pelúcia 💅🏼

[gavisuntiedboot]

Just Pretend (Gavi x reader)

Part 10

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Epilogue

Warnings: SMUT!! and also BAD WRITING!! TYPOS AS WELL PROBABLY!! BUT MAINLY THE SMUT!!!

Word Count: 21.5K (Fun Fact: If you have read all of JP, that's 159 pages single space of reading.)

A/N: Here it is. The finale of my heartfelt daydream, laid bare for you all to see. I hope you've enjoyed the ride: the road ends here.

GIF: @gavidaily (i've been waiting since part 1 to use this mf gif)

Previously on Just Pretend

"Scrubs? You look too young to be a doctor." "You don't look old enough to be let into the club, but everyone is full of surprises."

~

"You're late. It's 6:45." "Good morning to you too, Gavira."

~

Gavi found himself glancing at your ass as you leaned over, before swiftly looking away. He did not like you. He had a baseline of respect for you as a young successful professional. Nothing else.

~

"Are we not friends, y/n?"

"I'm not sure, Gavi. We could be if you stopped hating me."

"I don't hate you. I think."

~

Gavi stopped thinking. He acted on impulse only. He tugged the wrist that was in his hand, pulling you in. Your head met with his hard chest, and you felt one arm circle your shoulder. You remained like this for a long moment: up against Gavi, his arm pressing you into his chest, his shirt soaking up the wetness on your cheeks.

"'m sorry. I won't let him talk to you that way anymore."

~

"It's okay, Pablo. I can take care of myself." A tear finally rolled down your cheek.

"I know you can, Doctora. I know you could take on the world if you wanted to. But you shouldn't have to. You deserve to be loved and spoiled. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

~

"You saved me Pablo." You whispered out against him, needing to tell him someway, somehow, how much you appreciated him.

"Anyone would have interfered, doctora." He whispered back, being bold and caressing the skin of your arm that he encased with his.

"Not just today. In general. Since I met you, Pablo, you've made my life better. I just wanted to let you know. Good night."

~

"Because from the moment I laid eyes on you, I felt like I knew you. I don't know if I saw you on the street or in a dream, but a part of my brain recognized you, and since then I've been in pain. Pain that you can't even help me with. Nobody can. It's so hard to watch everyone take advantage of you all the fucking time. It tears me apart constantly. But it let me get closer to you. You let me get closer. And I tried so hard to keep it at bay, to be the friend that you need."

~

"My heart, doctora. When I give it to you, please keep it. Forever."

~

Now...

"Miss y/l/n, due to the... historic lack of women in the club, we do not have internal policies regarding relationships between players and employees. We just use the ones that La Liga as a whole have put in place. Those are quite forgiving, in my opinion. You can enter a romantic workplace relationship as long as it is appropriately disclosed, and you cannot be terminated as a result of that relationship ending. I saw the photo of you being pulled onto the field during the final of the Supercopa. Do you mean to tell me it was not with romantic intent?"

You had never experienced more severe whiplash in your life. First, you had been reprimanded for being too close to Pablo, for showing what Xavi classified as 'favoritism', as it hurt the team dynamic. Then you had been ridiculed by staff and players for allegedly sleeping with Pablo, and had been told you could be fire for doing so even if it was a bold faced lie. And now, months later, you were being told that it was not only okay for you to be in a relationship with Pablo, but you literally couldn't lose your job if you did? Someone in the family must have been praying for you. Or for Pablo. Was Pedri religious?

"Dr. Gonzalez, I think there has been some sort of misunderstanding. Gavi and I are just friends. Not even - we're just coworkers that get along well! There was no romance happening anywhere on the field."

And it was true. Well, sort of. You couldn't speak for Gavi's intention, but you would bet that he hadn't meant to do anything that could be perceived as romantic. Not only was he incredibly shy when it came to anything to do with his private life, but moreover, you had started to toy with the idea that maybe you were wrong about Pablo. Maybe you had misread the signs. Maybe Pedri's stylist, who you now also so lovingly referred to as naranja, had only fed into your delusions instead of delivering the hard truth to you.

"He's in love with you, stupid."

That's exactly what she had said to you when you answered the question 'so are you close to Pedri?', stating that the things Pablo did for you were far from the actions of a friend. And she was right. Friends didn't need to be physically touching in order to have a peaceful night of sleep. Friends don't feel the need to always be near the other, unable to focus if one wasn't near. Friends certainly didn't imagine each other in compromising situations: shirtless, panting, trying so hard to control his throbbing- no. Friends certainly didn't imagine such scenes. Most of all, friends didn't find themselves in these intimate moments, the air thick with anticipation, where lips were centimeters from meeting, and seconds away from saying something that would change the dynamic forever. Well, at least that's what you thought. Maybe Naranja would be your friend long enough to see if these were truly just normal hallmarks of friendship (although Pedri might be a tad upset if the two of you started sleeping together). You're glad she offered her cellphone number to you.

But this was not the only opinion that was presented to you. You had been sitting on your couch one night, a rare evening when Gavi had promised to accompany Ansu to one hangout or another, his absence felt greatly. It had been weeks since you had a moment that wasn't filled by Pablo's voice, his laughter, his breathing as you completed an assignment while he scrolled through TikTok. There was an eerie silence to the house now, and you needed something to take your thoughts off of your maladaptive daydreams of Pablo laying on your couch, looking up at you through long lashes with a tender gaze. It was almost as if you could run your hands through his messed up brown locks, watching his eyes close as you massaged his scalp, feeling him lean more into your touch.That's all you wanted. Not even for Pablo to come to you with a grand confession of love, but just to be with him with no boundaries, no fear, no awkwardness. Just love and safety and the freedom to exist as you were. Together.

But there was no idle chatter or TikTok sounds to fill the silence, and so you had to do so yourself. You made yourself a delectable cup of tea, favorite mug warming your palm as you tried to balance your plate of snacks in the other. The camp nutritionists had been testing recipes all week, and had sent you home with some of the best food you had ever had, including a tupperware of cookies that could give those little Nestle birds a run for their money. Comfortable on the couch in that same black hoodie with the embroidered '6', you qued, rather ironically, He's Just Not That Into You (a great romcom, but not for people doubting if they're deserving of being loved). Your phone had lit up with a familiar name that you hadn't seen in months now.

"Angelika! How are you? How was fashion week? I saw the collection on Instagram. It looked stunning!"

Since her announcement about moving to Paris, you hadn't heard a peep from your 'best friend'. A mutual friend you ran into at the market had told you her move had been delayed until after the collection had shown at fashion week since the creative director had surprisingly quit, so everything was on ice until he was replaced. You had seen her collection on Diet Prada, not questioning why you hadn't seen the posts that she had made celebrating her work.

"Oh it was fabulous, and Alessandro just got replaced so Paris must be coming soon. I would have invited you, but I only got 6 invitations, and you're always so busy. Didn't want to have an empty seat."

She knew she had made a mistake when she saw your face on the screen drop. You had been the main supporter of Ang's career since you met her, and yet she didn't even bother sending you an invitation or seeing if you might be able to attend.

"Anyway, how have you been? What's new with you?"

You spoke briefly about school and work, before taking a deep breath and opening up the gnarly can of worms that was you and Gavi's current situation. You had no other people with enough context or who you felt comfortable enough with to reveal all your thoughts on the matter. All your hopes and dreams that he would sweep you off your feet. All your insecurities and fears that you had created something unhealthy, something that would dissolve into worse than nothing. No matter how you spun it, it was nice to have a friend, even if you had to ignore that you were walking a mile to see an inch in return.

Angelika listened rather silently to the entire series of events, asking one or two clarifying questions, but for the most part allowing you to monologue. When you finished speaking, you sighed rather dreamily and fell back into your couch, pulling your (Gavi's) hoodie closer around you. Sometime you forgot how much he had bulked up, until you were drowning in the shirts he had donated to you. Maybe there was something there. Now that Dr. G had confessed he thought you two were already in a relationship, the only missing piece was Pablo. You had tried to hint to him that, if he felt even the slightest affection towards you, he should go for it. Make the shot. The goal was empty - hell, the goalie would even guide the ball in for him. Had you been too subtle with your affections? Or had he purposefully ignored the brush of your lips on his throat in order to preserve your pride?

“Don’t you think you’re being a little bit delusional?”

Angelika’s statement was like a splash of ice water on your warm and fuzzy form. You looked at the FaceTime call like the woman on the screen in front of you had grown horns from her head.

“I’m … what?”

“Delusional. I mean it seems like you’re reading too much into his actions. So he what? Used you as his driver and let you keep a hoodie he got from the staff for free? Nothing super special.”

“But… but it wasn’t just that. He-“ She hadn’t even let you finish your sentence, not so subtly rolling her eyes, like she was so utterly bored with your story.

“Yeah, yeah, he punched your ex boyfriend who cheated on you. But I mean, cmon, you like, refused to fuck him. This is the second guy to cheat on you. Maybe it’s you, ha. And Gavi is literally just a raging teenager who has been looking to hit someone. I don’t think you should fly into your princess fantasies because he he finally lost his shit. And now you’re sleeping next to him every night and he’s waiting for you to give him some pussy. Better melt up quick, ice princess, before he gets tired of waiting.”

There it was again. The nausea. The head pounding. The vision blurring and room spinning. The sinking feeling that you were being betrayed by someone you had let in again. If you squinted your eyes a little, she might have even slightly resembled Martin.

“You… think he’s only being nice to me so that I’ll sleep with him?” You asked, voice soft and slow to hide the shake desperately wanting to emerge.

“Oh, absolutely. It’s not like there’s much else there. Now you look upset, but don’t be. I’m just telling you the truth so you don’t get hurt.”

“No, you’re just being a bitch.”

Your response seemed to have caught the both of you off guard. Your face had gone red with frustration, hands trembling with rage that you were desperately trying to quell. What a funny thing, rage. Feminine rage to be exact. The rage of men is common place in society - sort of like bullets. Everyone has heard a gunshot or seen what a bullet can do, in their personal life or on a screen. Male rage and fury is a normal part of life that everyone expects and respects. People bite their tongues hard enough to draw blood before they dare lash out at a man, fearful of sharp words and blunt fists. But feminine rage wasn’t a real threat. Oh no, it was more of a concept. A black and red Pinterest aesthetic in red and black, with pinups and devil horns and swirling script. It was only a danger to the self; a threat of implosion with no shrapnel to hit anyone else. A star dying, a mind shattering, as entertainment to those around. There was never an expectation for her to lash out and defend herself against those who poked at her until she bled. But should a cornered lioness cower in fear rather than attacking?

“What… what the hell is wrong with you?”

“No, what the hell is wrong with you, Angelika? All I’ve done since the day I met you is try and be there for you. All I’ve done is support you through everything - relationships, family drama, you’re entire fucking career! You had professors tell you that you would be a generic designer for H&M, and I was there for you. I was the only person with you at three in the fucking morning telling you that you could do better, that you could be amazing. I was a pincushion, a mannequin, a personal chauffeur to the fabric store. And I didn’t ever do these things because I wanted something in return. I genuinely cared about you and just wanted to see my closest friend succeed! But you couldn’t even pretend to care about this obviously one-sided relationship. All I ever was to you was a person to use when you needed and thrown away when you didn’t. I was preparing for my dream interview, my biggest career goal since I was a fucking child, and not only did you ‘forget’ to give me one word of encouragement, you asked me to be your fucking ride home! And you know what? I made my peace with it. I came to terms with the fact that you thought I was incompetent at my job because everyone seems to think I’m a physio ditz. But for you to call me the nickname people called me in college to objectify me, and then say all I’m worthy of is sex?!”

Angelika was now teary eyed and red in the face. She was shaking her head, unable to respond, acting like the spitting image of a deer caught in the headlights. She was now stumbling over her words, unable to string a complete sentence together.

“That’s … thats not true I didn’t say that.”

“No, that’s exactly what you just said. Don’t be a liar on top of being a shit person. You just said it was my fault I got cheated on by my last two partners. And now I’ve still decided to give you the benefit of the doubt after you straight up admitted to me that you didn’t think of me as one of the top six people in your happy moments. I’ve poured my heart out to you and you don’t even have the decency to lie! You either said that to purposefully hurt me, or you never cared enough to listen when I spoke. Either way, you’re just the last in a long line of people who I have let walk all over me.”

Your expression was steeled and icy. You hadn’t even raised your voice once during the entire exchange, remaining calm and level headed despite the deep cuts you had made in Angelika’s self-confidence. Your lips were downturned and brows knitted together, looking at her with all the loathing she had caused you to feel for yourself. It was hard to be alone, but it was better than being surrounded with people who convinced you that you would never be enough if you didn’t fit their mold. The girl on the other side of the FaceTime call was clearly experiencing every stage of grief all at once, unsure how to respond. She had gotten through the denial, and was knee-deep in the anger. But anger did not spark eloquence, sparking the simple response of,

“Fuck you. You can go to hell.”

And you could swear you saw genuine fear in her eyes as a bright, beaming smile spread across your face. Maybe you had never seen love, but you had seen friendship. You had seen that there were people ready to carry your entire world on their shoulders. And no matter how slowly, you were working to believe that you could be loved, even by yourself. The rage had evaporated and recrystallized as content. So you smiled sickeningly sweetly at Angelika, and gave her a heartfelt response.

“I’ll see you there, darling.”

Pressing the bright red button to end the call was one of the most satisfying things you had ever done in your life. The headache and nausea and ‘I want to die’ feeling that you usually had after a confrontation was nowhere to be found. Quite the opposite, actually. It was like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Your entire chest felt like it had more room for air. Was this what every day was like for people without anxiety? How glorious. Pressing play on Gennifer Goodwyne’s best work, you made a mental note to speak to a therapist the following morning. This felt amazing. You were genuinely smiling at… what exactly? The loss of a friend? No, no - liberation from someone’s foot on your neck. What new and exciting things could you do with this new found freedom, this fresh lease on life? Naturally, you did your favorite activity: picking up the phone and texting Gavi.

Gone were the days of Pablo wracking his brain for any excuse to email, text, or call you. It was almost funny how much he had to talk himself up, looking at his reflection and reiterating how much of a 'cool, suave guy' he was before typing out a very intelligent and eloquent 'hi'. Watching a series that he had no interest in initially just to have something to talk to you about that wasn't one of his leg muscles (no interest initially - now he was patiently waiting 4-6 weeks for his neon sign in the shape of the House Stark sigil). Now it was you who couldn't leave Gavi alone, using your messages to him as a pseudo journal, spewing your entire stream of consciousness into little blue bubbles.

[You]: PABLO

[You]: YOULL NEVER GUESS WHAT I JUST DID

Locking your phone and resting it on your chest, you refocused on the chick flick illuminating the darkness of your living room, the device vibrating against you less than 30 seconds later. As much as you would like to pretend it was surprising to receive a response so quickly, this was the normal routine the two of you had created. One needed merely call out, and the other would come running.

[Pablito]: whoever u killed they better be small

[Pablito]: bcs pedri doesnt have a lot of space fr bodies in his car

There it was again: the giggling, the lip bite, the stupid half smile that made you look less like Cindy Crawford and more like the Grinch after Christmas was destroyed. But it was the natural way your body reacted to Pablo - like a schoolgirl with a crush on a boyband member in a brightly-colored magazine. Lord, how were you supposed to be normal around him? Oh how wonderful it would be to have even one inkling that Pablo reacted this way when he heard from you. But in your head, he was still Pablo Gavi with capital letters, who was standing ever so coolly with a beer in hand as he laughed with his other hot rich young athlete friends. You could never picture him as he truly was, shy and puppy-like, beer not even touched as he held his phone in one hand and twirling his hoodie string in the other. He bit down on his lip as well, eyebrows together as he waited for a response. Despite the relationship that had grown for the last six months, he still held his breath slightly when he saw the three little 'typing' dots float on his screen.

[Doctora]: i don't think i can convey the full force over text

[Doctora]: i can come over and explain it to you in person tho

"Guys, I think I need to leave." Pablo said abruptly, looking up at the group of boys, causing a record-scratch moment that abruptly ended the conversation. The heated conversation over whether the Drake curse was real had screeched to a halt, and now all four of the young Barca players were staring in disbelief.

"You haven't even been here for an hour. Where the hell could you need to be right now?" It was Alejandro who spoke up, the only one of the four who was not acutely aware of the fact that Gavi was borderline prepared to give up his entire career for you. He only had a mild inkling.

"Um... one of my friends is coming to my house and I'm going to meet them.''

"Who? We know all your friends. Who is coming over?" Ale asked, draping an arm over fellow La Masia baby Ansu, who smirked at the Sevillano as well.

"Yes, Pablito. Who is it? Ilias?" Ansu asked, obviously enjoying the bright red that seeped into Gavi's face.

"Or maybe Alvaro?" Ale seemed to be enjoying this too much, smiling brightly as Pedri tried to sip his beer without suffocating due to laughter.

"If it's one of the boys, then maybe we should come with you! Beers from the convenience store are cheaper anyways."

Pablo was sweating bullets. How could he say that he wanted to run home to hear what might possibly be the most mundane story about keeping houseplants alive?

"No, no it's... someone from back home. You guys wouldn't know her-HIM! You wouldn't know him." That may have been the worst save Pablo had ever made in his life, including the time his friends made his 5'0 self play keeper in a pick up match. Pedri finally lost the battle and spit out his beer, laughing loudly with the rest of the boys.

"Bro, why can't you just admit your massive crush on the doctor already. It's honestly getting a little tiring at this point. You've been in love with her for like three months now-" Ansu started, moving towards Gavi and clapping him on the shoulder before being interrupted by Pedri, who corrected,

"More like six months actually."

"Ah! There is no way!" Now Pablo was being ping-ponged between his two school friends, trying to keep himself from imploding from embarrassment.

"Why haven't you told her yet? Seriously now." Ale asked, pulling up a chair for himself and Pablo, the group sitting back down, conversation topic having changed into something juicier.

"You forget that he like stopped hating her and then she directly got a boyfriend, right?" Pedri said, signalling for another round of stellas to be brought over to the table.

"I don't think we should order another round. I was going to-" Pablo started, trying to nervously get up. Would he be able to find a taxi? Or should he just order an Uber? Neither possibility was explored as Pedri stuck his arm out and pushed him back into his seat, where he was now firmly locked in.

"Spill your guts. The quicker you talk, the quicker you can tell her to come over. I'll drive you home."

"Should you really be driving if you're going to be drinking?" Pablo asked cautiously as the four beers were placed on the table.

"oh, no, I'm done for the night. Two are for Ale and Ansu, and the other two are for you. For, ya know, confidence."

[Pablito]: u wnna met me at my hosue in an hours

The six minute pause between the 'Read' notification and the response from Pablo had worried you slightly. It was just enough time for the anxiety to seep into your bones. Did he find your desire to see him overwhelming and (God-forbid) clingy? Was he showing the message to Pedri & Co., laughing at your desperation? The misspelling made you even more worried. The spiral of thoughts was taking a sharp turn in the downwards direction. Was he even looking at his phone while typing? You didn't want to be a burden to him during one of the rare nights he could enjoy himself.

[Doctora]: are you sure? i don't have to come over if you're busy

"See now she doesn't want to come." Pablo said, now two beers deep with one more to go so that Pedri would let him leave.

"You're so stupid, Pablo. She wants you to want her to come over." Ansu said frustratedly. Pablo was trying to say as quickly as possible in between gulps what was stopping him from confessing his feelings to you. It had gone along the lines of,

"Well, first I thought I hated her, then I realized I was attracted to her as soon as she got an awful boyfriend, then we became like friends, I guess? Then I just kind of never wanted to ever be away from her. I had a hard time picturing a future that she wasn't a part of. Like, it started to make me have this weird aching feeling in my chest. And now I want to tell her all of this but she like, sees me as a friend and has had a shit time with her male friends and I don't want to permanently traumatize someone I love."

There was definitely more beer spit into the air and on the floor than there was in anyone's mouth.

"What did you just say?!" His too schoolmates echoed loudly, while Pedri just stared at him in a shocked state.

Pablo's brain was swimming in beer bubbles, unable to connect any dots and make intelligent, let alone sit and explain the process and intricacies of figuring out that he was, in fact, in love with you. So he ignored the question, asking rather for advice as to how he could get you to come over to his house.

"I don't think she needs that much convincing, seeing as you guys literally sleep beside each other for the majority of the week."

"Pedri, please. Enough details. You're just going to sit here and casually tell us the doctor has been in Pablito's bed repeatedly and he has yet to ask her on a date? I might collapse if I hear another shocking piece of information." Ale exclaimed, one hand over his heart as he leaned over, Ansu above him in what appeared to be genuine distress for his cardiac health.

"Pablo," Pedri started, sitting up in his seat and placing his elbows on his shoulders, obviously meaning business. "Now it's time to exercise that one petite little romantic muscle in your body."

"Isn't every muscle in his body petite?" Ansu braced himself for the punch in the arm that he received, but it was softer than previous attacks. Maybe the alcohol was really hitting him.

"Does it bother you that she asked to come over?"

"No!" Pablo responded quicker than his teammates thought possible. "I always want her to come over. She doesn't even need to ask. I would give her a key to the place if she wanted. Hell, I would sign the house over in her name. Do you think I could ask her to move in with me as friends?" His foggy brain registered the laughter, but didn't quite understand it. He would love for you to be in his house, walking through the door with you every evening, eating on the couch, fighting over the comforter and cuddling in the cold.

"See now that's... kind of a lot for a girl who doesn't know you have feelings for her. Which is a whole separate issue of oblivion that we can address later. Let's edit it down. Hand me your phone."

[Pablito]: never too busy for you. see you in an hour ;)

You stared at the wink on your screen with wide eyes. Had Pablo's phone been hacked? He had sent emojis before, but usually when he was making a cheesy joke or mocking someone else. This was ... well you actually couldn't say. Calling this behavior 'weird' would really make everything you two did, like cuddling and sleeping over and trauma-dumping, seem 'weird' as well. The only time he had ever been so outwardly flirty with you was when...

[Doctora]: Pablo are you drunk?

[Doctora]: I'm coming over to kick ur ass

"I think I got you in trouble." Pedri said, sheepishly handing back the device. Pablo groaned, starting to feel the effects of the alcohol more strongly, head spinning and stomach churning at the thought of getting scolded by you. But something in him also burned at the idea of you getting worried about him when you weren't being paid for it.

"Alright boys, let's head out so Romeo can get back to the castle on time." Pedri ushered the three tipsy boys to the car, Ansu and Ale hunched over and giggling in the back, and Pablo slumped with a cheek pressed up against the passenger window.

"Wait! I just thought of something really important!" Ale practically yelled, leaning against the car in front of his place, Ansu waiting by the door to be let in for their own sleepover and gossip session (which may become a breakfast and gossip session given their current state).

"If the doctor tries to kiss him, will Pablo have to get on his tiptoes?"

The uproar of laughter was so loud it could be categorized as a public disturbance. Ale stood, mind foggy but genuine, watching Pedri clutch both the steering wheel and his ribs. Ansu was worse for wear, falling to his knees and gripping the sidewalk for dear life, all while Pablo gripped his head in pain and embarrassment.

"Ale, please, please open the door. I'm going to piss myself laughing from the mental image. Please, Ale."

"I'm actually taller than she is, just for everyone's information." The rebuttal was coupled with crossed arms and a pout.

"With or without shoes?" Ale's follow-up question set off another round of rambunctious laughter. Pablo was now properly tipsy and overly sensitive, and was ready to go home. Ale finally let go of the coop, preventing Ansu's public urination, and Pedri could finally make his way to Pablo's place. The green vehicle pulled into the driveway, and you followed just minutes later.

"Pedri, I'm worried."

The Canarian stared at the boy beside him. That's still what Pablo was. At his young age, he was bearing the back-breaking pressure of being the best right out of the gate, and soul-crushing weight of being in love. It was more than Pedri knew himself and many of his friends able to withstand. And though he understood the sentiment clearly, he asked anyways.

"What're you worried about?"

Pablo was many thing when he had a few drinks. He was noticeably louder, more vibrant and talkative. His usual shy self loosened up, and he was much more vulnerable. He did whatever he felt like: danced, flirted with women, made bets - anything he could imagine that would make him feel alive before the liquid courage wore off and he was back to silencing the bickering voices in his head.

"I'm worried that I'm going to say something stupid and scare her off."

"Ignore what people say online, hermano. You're not actually that scary." The giggle in return allowed Pedri to breathe a little easier. He tried to push away the twinge of guilt that reminded him he had been the one to pressure Pablo to drink, and he had been the one shoving this relationship forward at a faster pace than the participants may have liked.

"No I mean... even if the 1 in a million occurs and she gives me a chance, what if I come on too strong and kill it instantly? Can you come with me?" The request and the puppy-dog look both worked to catch Pedri off guard.

"Come with you to hang out with your girl?"

"You don't have to sit with us. You can fire up the PS5 and do whatever you want. But I won't tell her I want to grow old with her like the couple in The Notebook if you're in the house."

"You want to live out the plot of The Notebook with the doctora?"

"How did you know that?" Pablo asked with wide eyes, fully convinced that the older had read his mind.

"You just told me! How much alcohol did you actually have?" Pedri was now concerned. Could he not count? Pablo had only had three beers. He didn't remember him being such a lightweight, but it probably would explain a lot.

"Ugh, see! Pedri please, I need you. Just come with me!"

Before Pedri could protest again, a small knock was heard on Pablo's window, causing both the Barca boys to jump slightly.

"Ugh, fine. But only because your gameshock controller has never been thrown into a wall."

As the two stepped out of the car, your nose was instantly assaulted with the scent of alcohol and smoke. Pablo looked at you with a red face and slightly unfocused eyes.

"Doctora! Hey!" As he moved in to give you a hug, you stepped back from him, covering your nose with the sleeve of your (Gavi's) hoodie. You looked harshly at the boys, glare flipping between the two boys.

"I can't believe you asked me to come here while you're wasted. And you! What the hell do you think you're doing driving drunk?" You yelled, and Pedri ran forward to prevent the neighbors from hearing your misconception.

"I'm not drunk! I had one beer and waited more than an hour before driving. Pablo had three beers. We smell like shit because a waitress spilled a tray full of shots at the table. Let's continue arguing inside."

You looked at them skeptically, trying to find a smidge of deceit in either of their faces. Pablo approached you and draped an arm around your shoulder. Pressed up against you, it seemed like the smell of liquor dissipated, replaced by the last traces of his cologne and his own signature scent. Leaning down slightly, his lips brushed against the shell of your ear, sending shockwaves throughout your nervous system.

"Come on, Doctora. You know I'd never lie to you. Come inside now. I need to get in the shower."

Speechless and wide-eyed, you were helpless to do anything but nod your head and be lead back inside the house that you had come to know so well.

~

"I'm going to get in the shower. I think it will help me sober up a bit. And help me stop smelling like Kettle One."

"Oh."

"Don't seem so disappointed, Doctora. I'll only be gone for five minutes. You can wait for me on the balcony; you won't even miss me. Or if you really can't be without me for a single moment, I have a very large shower."

You had stared at Gavi in shock for the umpteenth time that evening, unable to process how he was being so... unadulterated with you. It reminded you of that very first night in the club, when he had stared you up and down and commended Angel on his ability to pick girls.

"Wait you have a balcony?"

That's what lead to your current situation: sitting with your knees pressed to your chest, breathing in the early April Catalan air, and staring at the beautiful view from the window. The street was illuminated in a soft yellow glow, people roaming with hands held and laughs exchanged. The moon was full, shining its beauty down onto the street, painting everything a soft silver color that contrasted with the hazes of gold. It was one of those moments you wish you could trap between plates of glass and visit at a moment's notice. One of those moments that reminded you how far you had come. That dream, that life you had worked, cried, and prayed for - you were in it right now.

The glass door slid open behind you, ending the trance as Pablo stepped out with more blankets over one arm and two mugs in hand. You took them from him, hands warmed as he draped a blue and red blanket (his favorite, unbeknownst to you) around your shoulders. He wrapped himself in a pale yellow one and took his seat next to you, legs also by his chest as he retrieved his steaming mug. Taking a sip, the thick liquid coated your tongue, sweet and rich and reminiscent of childhood.

"So you can't even boil an egg correctly, but you know how to make perfect Chocolate Caliente while tipsy? How does that make any sense?"

Turning to you, he took a pause. The wind gently pushed your hair back, allowing the moonlight to fully illuminate your eyes, and his already hazy mind struggled not to just let himself drown in them. He was beginning to sober up, but it was nowhere near how he wanted to be in your presence.

"It was my favorite breakfast as a kid. My dad used to take Aurora and I to have them for breakfast on the weekends. When I came to Barcelona, I didn't really have anyone to take care of me like that anymore, so I learned to make it myself." Pablo hadn't meant for this to be a sad story, but apparently his tone came across as such, demonstrated by your scooching over to him and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. No matter the cause, he accepted the invitation to lean against you, sharing your body warmth.

"Must've been hard for you, moving here alone." Your voice was far off, as if spoken to a different person and in a different time. Flashes played in your mind of teary goodbyes and security gates, only one of your parents caring enough to drive you to the airport.

"You know what it's like," Pablo responded. "You did the same thing." He wanted to life his head and look at you, but you move first, resting your temple against his, slotting perfectly together like a teacup that had found its saucer.

"Yeah but I was 18. You were what? 11?" Your voice is still heavy with a burden that Pablo can't understand. His parents had gone with him when he first moved - and you knew that. They had only gone back to Sevilla when Gavi, shy and petite little thing that he was (and remains) told them he was fine to stay in the dorm. He had made friends quick and been praised for his football skills quicker. His parents were only two hours away, and visited semi-frequently. Life at La Masia had been Disney Channel-esque. So why did you speak about it with the same somber tone as old war stories?

"I hate that you say 'I was 18' like it was a thousand years ago, Doctora."

Pablo could feel your cheeks form a wide smile, and wrapped an arm loosely around your waist as you leaned deeper into his orbit. Of all the times the two of you had been cuddly, this was quickly becoming his favorite. Because he wasn't holding you like a secret, in the dark of night when all you wanted to do was pass out. He could see you, here in his arms of your own free will, not running away, but rather leaning in. He got to sweep the hair from your eyes, and if he focused hard enough, the dull beat of your helping the tension dissipate from his bones.

It was moments like these when Pablo knew that he was wholly and completely in love. His heart didn't race around you anymore. It wa quite the opposite now: only when he was around you could his heart beat like it was intended. It felt full. Otherwise he was walking around with this tugging in his chest, begging him to drop everything and run to wherever you were. And once he arrived, he would tear the beating organ from his chest for you upon request. It was your property, anyways.

"But I was 18 like a century ago. I'm old and withered now Pablo. What you're doing now is taking care of the elderly."

His laugh in response made him fall forward, burying his head in your lap as you blushed profusely, laughter light and breathy as to not draw attention (or get him to move). His face pressed against one of your thighs, giggling a bit too hard at a very generic joke without a singular care in the world. He leans back slightly and places a kiss to your thigh, so quick and delicate you almost missed it.

"I'll always take care of you, Doctora. As long as you let me."

You couldn't bring yourself to speak at that moment, opting to instead bring a hand up to play with his hair. Gently, you wove your fingers through the locks, softly scratching at his head like the sleepy puppy he resembled in that moment.

Several minutes of comfortable silence elapsed before he spoke again.

"Remember the first time we met?"

"Vividly." The response came quickly and honestly from you, and you were banking on Pablo's slightly incapacitated state to prevent him mocking you. But it was one of those moments seared into your memory. The lights, the sweat, the deep urge to pull Pablo against you and kiss him until that perfect pout disappeared.

"You didn't think I was 18 then. It was a hard blow to my ego. I didn't want a pretty girl to think of me as a child. But now, I'm glad we met when we did."

Soft music floated in the air towards the balcony, the performers a few streets over finishing off the night with something soft and romantic to tug on the heartstrings of passing couples in hope of separating them from some Euros. Gavi lifted his head, body following shortly as he stood. He held out a hand to help you to your feet as well. "Come and dance with me." Rising, Pablo never released your hand from his, pulling you in as close as possible, keeping you pressed to him with one arm. He began swaying and you followed his lead, now your turn to rest your head on his shoulder and simply enjoy the euphoria of being in his arms. His breath was next to your ear, raising the flesh on your neck with every exhale, before finally saying,

"Because in the future when we're real senior citizens, I get to tell people I've known you my entire adult life."

You faltered slightly, stopping Gavi in his tracks as he met your eyes. God, those eyes. If only you knew the power they had over a certain Sevillano.

"You think I'll still be around when you're an old man?" You asked, trying to stay light and airy and nonchalant as your heart hammered against the confines of your ribcage.

"Of course, Doctora. Where else would you be other than beside me?"

This was it. This was the moment. You were dancing on his balcony in his hoodie as he told you that he never wanted you to leave his side. This was the time to agree, to jump and have those strong arms catch you as you said those three words that could show you the gates of heaven or the depths of hell. You traced shaking fingers down one of his biceps, eyes meeting as with ragged breath you began.

"Pablo..."

The response was the sound of the glass door being shoved open, causing the two of you to jump a foot apart. Pedri stood there, cheeks flushed like when Xavi played him all 120 minutes.

"Pablito!! You had a case of beer in the fridge to reward me for being the DD!" This man was on another planet, bringing you back down to earth.

"You should get him to bed. I need to get going anyways."

"No!" The protest was louder than anticipated, startling both you and Pedri, who had gotten bored of playing sober FIFA and may have over-indulged when Pablo's balcony date with you entered its second hour.

"I mean, I'll get him to bed. You haven't told me your story yet. I would hate for you to leave without finishing the reason why you came. Wait for me on the couch, I'll be five minutes."

There was a pause, almost a reluctance from you to break the strong eye contact. He knew that there was something else you wanted to say. There was always something left unsaid between the two of you. He watched your form disappear down the stairs as he guided Pedri to his room (he didn't want his soon-arriving sister to sleep on dirty sheets). "You have the worst timing imaginable, hermano." Pablo muttered out, blood boiling at how the evening had gone from 200 back down to zero in a matter of seconds. When did he even put a case of beer in the fridge? Neither of you were drinkers. His fridge was always stocked with every delight and craving you had mentioned in passing.

"You told me to make sure you didn't say anything stupid." Pedri responded, making Gavi squint at him in suspicion. He must have not as been as out of it as he let on.

"Yeah but I think she- nevermind. Go to sleep."

"Calm down Pablito. It's not like I interrupted your first kiss."

Forcing himself to take a deep, self-soothing breath, Pablo turned from his inebriated friend and shut the door.

Making your way to the living room, you once again filled your senses with the boyish football decor of the living room. Checking to make sure he wasn't coming down the stairs, you sped over to the front door. The pictures on the wall remained as they were previously: childhood, family, football. Your heart sank slightly at the thought of your Christmas present sitting ripped and crumpled at the bottom of his club-issued backpack. You turned back into the living room, making your way to the couch.

Flopping on the soft material, you kicked your feet up on the table, glancing over to look at his obnoxiously large Barca book. And there, sitting on top of it, was a simple black frame, slightly dented in one corner like it had been dropped. The frame held the two of you, angry and standoffish and forever frozen in that moment before the floodgates had been irreversibly opened. He had framed it. Pablo Gavi, the busiest boy in football right now, had decided you were worth the frame and the position front and center on his favorite book.

"So, what was so groundbreaking you needed to see my reaction in person?" His question snapped you out of your trance, and you sprung up from your place on the sofa, needing to get the photo out of your field of vision for your own sanity. Making a B-line to the fridge, the cold was inviting to your flushed face. Fruit, bread, cheese, cold cuts - no Spanish boys here. Just the comfort of food.

"Do you want a sandwich?"

~

"There's no way you said that to her! Who are you and what have you done with the Doctora I know?" Despite his reprimand, the beautiful boy before you joined in the fits of giggles that had taken over you. Having deprived yourself of a decent meal for the last week due to work (they had finally handed over all of Antonio's medical notes and they were in shambles), you fixed yourself and Pablo the most impressive sandwich you had ever conjured in your adult life. After filling his arms with every possible accompaniment, he plopped himself beside you on the couch, crossing his legs so his knee rested against yours. Before he got comfortable, he jumped up, stating he had forgotten something.

"I got these for you." The jar he placed on the table was filled with green liquid, and as you leaned in closer to inspect the label, your eyes lit up.

"You... bought me a jar of pickles?"

"Yeah. Remember one time you said you liked them so I got these. They look like the same jar." That's when you let yourself burst into tears.

The hour following had been you and Pablo in various states: his arm around you as you cried into his shoulder about how shit the people in your life had been, then hunched over plates stuffing your faces and joking around, and finally the current one of eating pickles and chips and whatever else was on the table as you recounted your demonic phone call.

"I did but like I've wanted to say it to her for months now! You don't understand, Pablo, because you're friends with the amazing, caring, thoughtful being that is me." More giggles as he shoved a pillow into you, smile so bright it could light up the entire first floor. He was never afraid to be like this around you: silly and playful and just comfortable.

"La la Doctora, ladies shouldn't use such foul language." It was your turn to shove his shoulder, probably causing you more damage than him due to the rock-solid muscle.

"Thanks papa, appreciate the advice. But like seriously, she asked me to drive her to Madrid one weekend - as in like Madrid five hours away - to go to a specific store. You know what she bought there? Buttons. 10 hours of my life and a hell of a lot of gas so she could get buttons! And it's not like I expected anything in return-"

"No of course not. It's just when you do nice things for people and are kind to them, you want them to act the same. Treat others how you want to be treated." Pablo bit his tongue there, scared he would sound immature or stupid. You were several years his senior in age and education, and the last thing he wanted was for you to water-down your feelings because you thought he wouldn't understand.

"Right?! See, you get it! And I just, ugh, I feel kinda bad because like she didn't really do anything directly. Like yeah her show and stuff but there wasn't really a moment or like a fallout." You moved towards Pablo, leaning on his shoulder as the moment took a more serious turn.

"But that's the whole point isn't it? That she didn't do anything, she was just kind of there and reaping all the benefits of friendship with no effort. And-"

"Doctora, can I interrupt you for a minute?" You felt Pablo's shoulder dip slightly, and disappointed as you were, took the sign to lift your head.

"Sorry I didn't mean to take over your personal sp-"

"Ay shut up about my personal space. I'd handcuff you to me if I had the chance." He quickly looked away from you, processing his comment after he had said it. Nice one Gavito - real friendly. He moved some of the cushions to the end of the couch by the arm rest, kicking off the more decorative ones and leaning down. Honey eyes looked at you between thick lashes, and patted the narrow sliver of space beside him. Rolling his eyes at the confused raising of your brow, he verbalized his request.

"Come lay next to me while you rant."

Oh. Oh. Had he ever asked you outright to cuddle with him? The first time, you had been the instigator. You had taken that leap off the bridge - no, the cliff - and yet there he had been, warm and welcoming, catching you with grace. Ever since then, there had really been no words. Talking about his desires and feelings didn't come naturally to Pablo, and so he steered clear of them all together. It was always something unspoken: he would be at your apartment and just follow you down the hall when you declared it to be bedtime. Or when you had spent too much time at the Gavira house watching reruns of the same telenovela, and Gavi just switched the TV off and guided you up the stairs. No matter the location it was always the same. Him on the right side, you on the left, but both magnetically drawn to the center and one another. You slotted into his side, head on his heart, and stabilized by his embrace. Sometimes he wore a shirt - most times he didn't. He hugged you a little closer whenever you were in his clothing, trying to dispense his scent onto it anew and make sure you would think of him whenever there was a breeze. But there were never words. Only feelings and longing gazes and that same settled silence.

"You want me to?"

"Why would I ask if I didn't want you to? Last time you fell asleep on my shoulder you almost broke your neck. Now if you fall asleep you will only be semi-sore in the morning. I mean you don't have to if you-"

"No. I mean yes. I mean no I don't not want to do that."

"Is your Spanish getting worse or did that make no sense?"

You sighed in defeat, laying beside Pablo on the couch, sinking into the fabric and into him. One of his arms was acting as your pillow, and his hand made its way upwards to softly play with your hair, an instant soother. Body turning inwards toward him, your arms were up and palms gently pressed to his chest.

"Am I too close?" You asked, Pablo's previous comment about wanting to be physically attached to you seemed to have evaporated from your mind. His second arm fell around your waist, pulling you closer in. Your thigh was now pressed between his legs, and you both seemed to hold your breath for a moment. The alarms went off in his brain while his eyes held yours. He just stared at you. That's all he ever really wanted to do nowadays. He unfroze and shook his head before prompting you to continue your story.

"Oh, right - where was I?"

"She never put any effort into the relationship."

"Oh, right." You sat up to grab one of the blankets, draping the warmth on the tangled mess of limbs, and laying back down. It was not lost on you that Pablo, despite all the jokes, had listened intently to every word you had said. Nothing Pablo did, from the way he shifted his misaligned hips to his soft breathing to the way his fingers traced shapes in your side, was ever lost on you.

"So..." and on continued your rant for about an hour. It was a different kind of catharsis to speak about your pain and receive empathy in response. To be told that the feelings poisoning your spirit were ones that had been planted and could be weeded out. It was a relief that also brought about a tiredness, where once your emotions were freed, your eyelids grew substantially heavier. But the fingers remained soothing against your hair, twisting and smoothing the locks. He pushed a few stray pieces from your face, smiling at the sleepy state on your face.

"Excited for this last month of the season?" The short international break had allowed for the season to be neatly wrapped up by the first week of May, with the Champions League final and awards ceremonies following directly after.

"Mhm," you hummed back, eyes now fully closed and cheek pressed against Pablo's warm skin. "But it's not really a month for me. It's more like a week left of the season. Copa Del Rey in three days, then you score a screamer in the net at home to win La Liga three days later. Once the season is decided, I'm back at school for practical exams." The vibration in his chest reverberated throughout your entire being, and your semi-sleeping form nuzzled deeper into Pablo, which neither of you thought possible. Fingers tightened around the semi-exposed skin of your waist, and he felt a sensation akin to weilding fire at will. Knowing full well the flames could engulf him in a torturous inferno, but oh how beautiful to hold and let dance at the tips of his fingers.

"So we have two more matches with you?"

"Three if you choke again and let the other borderline relegation team score three goals." He tugged lightly at your hair as a reprimand, your smile spreading against his neck.

"I wasn't even on the field for the full 90 minutes last game. Don't worry, we're bringing home both trophies this week. And you're getting that screamer of a goal. Make sure to record it so I can gloat forever." A gentle nod and a hum, but the sleep was slowly seeping into your senses.

"So after that, what? What's next?"

"Well you already know that Xavi offered me a permanent position for when I graduate next year. So I'm at the club on automatic placement renewal. He he I was the first one in my class to get it."

"Of course you were, Doctora. You're the best there is." Warm cheeks yet again. Pablo must think you're a natural furnace, not realizing that his sticky sweet compliments were always triggering the "Heart Overheating" alarms in your mind.

"You think too highly of me. I'll see you when you come back for preseason medicals and training. They might let me run it this year. Oh, and at the Bondor. I'll be there, too."

"At the what?"

"The Bondor." You repeated, unaware of how much you were mumbling as you drifted in and out of consciousness.

"Slow down for me, Doctora. One word at a time. Where will I see you?"

"Ballon. D'or." You repeated for the third time as slowly as possible. It was too hard to stay awake now, and let yourself slip fully into the depth of relaxation, tangled in a web of warm Pablo, basking in this moment where you could just rest contently.

Pablo on the other hand was now on high alert. There had been a lot of commotion in the club when the nominations were announced. Pedri had pulled up the livestream on the projector, the entire squad waiting with baited breath for the categories of interest. There mutters all around about how the whole ceremony was a scam and had royally screwed over Robert, but who was going to turn down the honor? You had seen the stampede (led of course by Luca, who was always at the head of any effort to get out of doing his job) and followed quickly, afraid someone else had passed out. The players had been pushing themselves to stay miles above Madrid in the league, and it was taking a real toll. You looked up at the ceiling as you speed-walked, praying that everyone (especially Dembele) was okay. You would really like a calm week.

"Now, the nominees for the Kopa Trophy, awarded to the best player under 21 years of age..."

Ansu caught your eye as you entered and waived you over, instructing you to sit with him and the other young Barca boys. Gavi had been given a seat in the middle, the throne of the meeting room, as the murmurs circulated once again. You hadn't been aware that Pablo was a contender for this award - not surprised, but your schedule didn't allow you to keep on on Twitter as you once had. You wrung your fingers, heart hammering as the presenter spoke with that slow TV drawl that made everyone want to commit arson.

"Jude Bellingham, Jamal Musiala, Bukayo Saka, Eduardo Camavinga, Gavi-"

You were sure there were other nominees, but the shouts of joy and thunderous claps on Gavi's shoulders prevented any more information from entering your ears. The coaching staff and older players commended him on the achievement, and you had to wait until the room was essentially cleared to stick out your hand and offer a congratulatory message.

"Are we doing handshakes now?" He asked, eyes flitting between you and Pedri's gossip circle occupying the far corner.

"It feels more professional. This is a professional achievement after all."

""I haven't achieved anything yet." He said shaking your hand firmly and lingering much longer than was appropriate for the workplace (and 'friends').

"What are you talking about? You've been nominated! That's huge in itself given that a lot of your teammates also qualify for that award."

"Yeah but Pedri snatched it last year. They won't hand it over to the same club two years in a row."

"Doesn't Messi have like 27 Ballon D'ors in a row?"

"Please don't use Leo as an example. I am just a regular human being." As the two of you made your way into the hall, out of the line of sight of Pedri's tea spilling team, the laughter and teasing died down. You turned to Pablo, bringing one hand to rest on his arm, smoothing the fabric of his training jacket with your fingers as you looked up at him.

"You're a brilliant player, Pablo. One of the best this club has ever seen. You are incredible and have the brightest future ahead of you, and I just hope I get to be a part of it. That award it yours - I can feel it. But even if it isn't, don't sell yourself short. You amaze me every day."

This was the best news since his promotion to the first team. He had been pushing the Paris trip to the far recesses of his brain, a bout of nausea and anxiety striking him every time he conjured the thought of walking down that carpet or speaking on stage. But now you were going to be there. You would see him in the finest suit D&G would lend him, hair perfectly gelled down (he would need a trim). And he let himself ever so briefly entertain the fantasy of you watching him win. Of the announcer calling out his name, the crowd rising to their feet in deafening applause as he accepted the trophy from Pedri. He would look out into the crowd and see you there, sending a wink your way before thanking everyone who helped him achieve this, especially the medical staff. He drifted off to sleep replaying this scenario in his head, a trophy in one arm and the girl of his dreams in the other.

Pedri woke up with a minor headache in the morning, sunlight pouring through the large windows directly into his eyes. He would be buying Pablo some blackout curtains for Christmas. Descending from his place, he walked across it: a real sight to behold. You and Gavi were tangled together on the couch, legs an absolute mess with the blanket pooled around them. Your head was on his chest, face nuzzled upward into his neck. Your hands were fisting his shirt, as if afraid someone would rip him from your clutches. Pablo wasn't much better. He had his arms wrapped around you, one on the back of your head and one around your waist. He had managed to pull you on top of him in the night, his back flat on the sofa and your weight pooled on his chest and bringing him tranquility. His lips rested against your forehead, his face perfectly positioned with yours. He held you tight against him, and your unconscious form rose and fell with each of his deep and even breaths. Despite his best efforts, Pedri couldn't stop himself from snapping a picture of the moment. Thank God his ringer was always off. He did have enough self restraint to prevent him from sharing the photo with his group chat with Ansu, Ale, Eric, and surprisingly Robert (he just likes to be included). The name had changed numerous times in the last several months, and was now simply called "friendship" my ass for obvious reasons. He knew this would be a picture Pablo and you would look back on fondly when one was finally courageous enough to just let go. But until then, it sat safely in his hidden folder, and he tiptoed out the door, sparing one last look at the pair of you, sleeping more deeply than well-fed toddlers. The tension in Pablo's face was gone. Pedri hoped it would stay that way.

~

"And we are just minutes from kicking off what could be the league-winning match for Barcelona here in Spotify Camp Nou! Set to be an exciting game against Atletico Madrid, and the crowd is absolutely on fire."

"Just as well, Peter. I mean Barcelona have the ability to make this an incredible three trophy season right here today. They're coming off a massive win against Sevilla in the Copa Del Rey final, at home for what could be the league winner, and the performances we're going to see today are going to be full energy full power now that the Ballon D'Or nominee list has been announced."

"That's right we have Robert Lewandowski shortlisted for the titular award after two incredible seasons at Bayern Munich. We also have Pedri potentially passing the 'Golden Boy' torch onto his fellow midfielder Gavi, who has had an absolutely stellar season."

"Who can forget about that performance in the Supercopa, Peter. Three goal contributions in a Classico no less, the likes of which we haven't seen since Leo Messi stepped up to the plate, and we all know how that played out. He's really been putting in amazing performances week after week, and the most surprising thing is the level of health Barca have been able to maintain. For a team riddled with injuries all of last season, it is a miracle turnaround. Kick off right here after the break."

The tunnel was always busy right before kick off, but today it was quadruple-fold. You weren't sure if Barca was just extra confident in a victory today, but the media passes had tripled, and everyone was eager to get candids of the young blaugrana boys. You were pushing through people's shoulders, 'excuse-me' shifting very quickly into 'get out of the way' as you made your way to the players line up to adjust resistance tape and back braces. You were in the official physio uniform today, Nike jacket hugging your skin and tucked neatly into your trousers. The entire staff had been gifted with a new pair of cleats with the date on one side and a number of their choice on the other.

"I'm assuming 6 for you?" You had been caught off guard by the assumption from the brand rep.

"Why would you assume that? Have other players been telling you things about me?" You must have looked genuinely afraid and shocked, as the rep raised his hands in innocence, face going pale.

"No no no. I have absolutely no idea who you are. You have a 6 on your hoodie, so I thought you would want something to match."

It was discreet, a small black number on the back of your heel, and yet it was the only thing that Gavi could see as you worked to adjust Frenkie's shoulder. Did all of you have numbers? Were they in order, yours just happening to fall in the 6th position? Were there even 6 people on the physio team? His eyes stayed on your shoes until they were in front of his. He looked up to meet you raised brow.

"Why are you staring? Your shoes are nicer than mine."

Turning around, he let you test his hip alignment as he allowed himself to speak away the nerves buzzing throughout his system.

"Think we're going to win?"

"I always think you're going to win. I'm just waiting for that incredible goal you promised last week."

"What, the three goal contributions in the Supercopa weren't enough for you? You have high standards, Doctora."

"Of course. That was back in January. It's April now, Pablo. I want you to make my last game good." As you released him from your grip, he turned to face you, putting both hands on your shoulders. A few players turned their heads, but only for a cursory glance.

"If I score today, you let me pick you up as a celebration."

"Are you allowed to do that?"

"Who's going to stop me?"

"One of your fangirls might dive onto the field and tackle me."

"I have faith in you, Doctora. You seem like a fast runner."

"Always nice to have your unwavering support. Deal. Better be a good goal."

"A screamer."

You moved onto Pedri, who was next in the numerical line up, and his eyebrows did all the talking for him. You muttered a quick 'good luck' before continuing your duties in the remaining minutes before they walked out for the match.

"What a friendly little deal you've made, hermano." He leaned over and said, but the players began walking before Pablo could respond. Post -anthem, you took your place on the sidelines, jittery from the electric energy ricocheting around the stadium. No Joao for Gavi to shove around, but Griezmann was going to be a problem. The first half was rough and fast-paced, but remained scoreless. As the players came off for half time, you were instructed to help out the ones with high muscle tension. Passing Pablo, you placed a hand on his shoulder and spoke into his ear, quick and soft: "Looks like I'm staying seated all game."

Pablo turned just in time to watch you scamper off, a smirk on his lips. Pablo loved a challenge, and it was all the better to have it come from you. He had a couple opportunities during the first half, but he was scared of getting fouled too early on. Now was the time were he was able to push, with the anxiety from the beginning of the game shaken off. He tuned back into Xavi's pep talk and instructions for the second half, lips still upturned.

The media was always puffing up players, but it was true that Pedri was a magician with the ball. There was something captivating about the way he calmly danced between players, maneuvering skillfully. A pass to Araujo, then back to him. The roar of the crowd was dulled by the thrum of your heart and the snapping as you bit at your nails in anticipation. The boys had been pressing hard, and a score seemed eminent. Pedri lifted his head, looking for his striker. Lewa was locked up on the right. It seemed the moment to move back, alleviate the press and recalculate. But then a flash of blue and red streaked across his vision and his foot reacted faster than his brain. Minute 85, a scoreless game, and a ball crossed high and fast towards the menace that was Gavi. His foot connected in the far left corner of the box and there it went, screaming past the goalie's fingertips before nestling in the top corner of the net.

An explosion. You were the slowest person to react, slack jawed as the other physios shoved and shook you in celebration. Hands coming to his chest, he gripped the crest like it was a crown jewel, looking right as you as he brought it to his lips, kissing it with a force and passion that had flowed in him since he was 11 years old. He ran towards you, teammates following swiftly, and suddenly there were arms around your thighs as he lifted you. He bounced you in the air as his teammates clapped him on the shoulders, congratulating him and showering him with the well-deserved praise. You looked down, hands rested on Pablo's shoulders. His gaze was locked with yours. you wanted to tease him or commend him but there were no words. He released you, pointing at ou before taking his position.

They lifted the trophy shortly after, the players looking like children as they danced and sang in a circle. The players all took their turns squeezing the living daylights out of you.

"Doctora!" It was Dembele who called out to you, waving you over. Under the watchful eyes of his coaches, Gavi was more careful not to get too close to you (even though he had just Lion-King lifted you during the game).

"Come take a picture with all your patients and their trophy!" The request was made with laughs all around as you stood behind the trophy, Ousmane on one arm and Pedri on the other. Balde and Ansu got into the photo as well, arms all around each other.

"Gavi! Get in here! You're the one with the most clinic hours." Ousmane called out to him as well. He blushed as he walked (waddled) over, stopping to pick up the trophy and dropping it into your hands.

"This is your achievement too, Doctora. You should be proud." Pedri shoved him in beside you, claiming it helped 'balance the photo'. The flash went off twice. Once with Pablo paying attention to the camera, smiling brightly having just won MOTM in their league decider. The second was almost identical, but his head was turned to you. The smile was softer, the eyes kinder. He looked at you like the ultimate prize. As he said his goodbyes to you, promising not to miss you too much in the month you would be seperated, he realized one thing: he was going to need more frames.

~

@gaviraconcubine: ok i thot it was stupid but maybe gavi is actually w his physio???? just look at them

1,272 Likes 677 Retweets 385 Replies

@blaugranaboy: if you FEMALES knew anything, you would know barca has had shit physios and is always getting injured. since she came on staff they staying healthy. i would pick her ass up to

@barbiebalde: @blaugranaboy *too. Sexist AND bad english? pick a struggle

@88rizzing: ok but theres also pics of her out with pedri at a prada store so idk anymore???????

@gavitaylorsversion: her instagram is private :( can someone drop clearer pictures of her

You had been through some difficult situations in the last ten months, but these practical exams were the biggest challenge you had faced in your existence. 8am to 8pm lectures for two weeks, followed by a week straight of performing concussion protocols, lifting stiff boards, and demonstrating a whopping 6 different types of sutures had finally come to an end. It was May 5th, the final day of your exams, and three days before your flight to Paris for the ceremony. Your phone had been discarded for practically the entirety of the month, logged out of all social media and having your focus set to only let through emergency calls (and, of course, texts from Pablo). They had been less frequent given his understanding of your schedule.

[Pablito]: i know you have stitches today. Good luck <3

[Pablito]: Kounde asked about you today. He hasn't realized you've been missing the last two weeks. He really isn't on this planet

[Pablito]: the finale of our show came on last night. I recorded it so we can watch it together after your exams.

And now the most recent one had come through:

[Pablito]: Congrats on surviving the epic battle of your practical exams. I sent you dinner. Have a great night!

The doorbell rang in some scary accurate timing, and you graciously accepted the package from the delivery driver. Sitting on your couch to watch any comedic show that would help you decompress. The bag was huge, and seemingly filled to the brim with containers. Pasta, pizza, two types of bread, fried chicken, and three slices of cake (chocolate, cheesecake, and tres leches). There was also a bottle of sugar-free soda, for balance apparently. As you picked up your phone to ask Pablo if you were meant to feed the whole building, another text popped up on your screen.

[Santa Naranja]: Hi! I'm not sure if you remember me, but I'm the stylist who worked with Pedro for his Prada shoot? I got this number from him. You should yell at him for giving out your number so easily.

[Santa Naranja]: Anyways, I just got the list for the Ballon D'Or ceremony and I saw your name on there. How exciting! My company is styling Barca for the event, and I wanted to reach out personally to see what you would be interested in wearing.

[Santa Naranja]: Because I'm assuming you don't want to be in a suit? But I could be wrong.

You replied instantly, telling her how grateful you were for contacting you. You had been planning on wearing one of your old wedding-guest dresses, not having the time to go pick up something else. The two of you arranged to meet tomorrow at her studio, and you went back to your original mission: snapping a picture and sending it to Gavi.

He opened the message instantly, feeling all warm and fuzzy staring at the food spread on your lap and his old shirt hanging off your shoulders. You hair was up, face bare, and he wanted to reach through the phone and kiss you on the forehead.

[Doctora]: thanks for the food, pablito <3 see u in paris

"Ouch!" He yelled out, taken out of his daydream by a needle shoved into his wrist. "Pedri! Tell your friend to be gentle."

"First of all, we're not friends-"

"We're not?" Pedri asked the stylist, the smoke practically rising from her ears. She glared at him, looking extra menacing with the pins between her teeth.

"No. We're not. You're only allowed to be here if you're silent, remember? And second of all we are tailoring your suit sleeves. You're going to get stabbed if you keep moving your arms! Now hold still. She's still going to be there in 15 minutes for you to gush over."

"How did you know who I was talking to?" Pablo asked, genuine shock and curiosity across his features.

"Oh please, for the love of God, don't tell me you think you're being subtle?!"

~

"Hi! Come in come in! I didn't even realize it was raining."

Santa Naranja was, as you had recently discovered, not just Pedri's stylist. She wasn't even a Prada stylist. She was now a senior assistant stylist for Style Di Fortuna, a global firm that worked to style celebrities for different events. Since Herno and D&G started dressing the club, management had received official notice regarding their event attire.

"You should have seen the letter they sent. It was like a scolding from the school principal. 'Players must be formally and professionally styled during all official events as to avoid conflict in brand image and the tarnishing of the brand's respectability. Can you imagine dressing so poorly that you could ruin the reputation of an entire brand? Although I shouldn't expect any less. Pedro's jorts could bring about doomsday."

It was the other girls in the office that had given her the nickname 'Santa' for her saint-like patience in dealing with Pedri for... reasons. She was a completely different person when his cheshire cat smile and bushy brows were not in the room. She was calm and fun and humorous. She scurried around the workshop, pouring you a cup of cinnamon tea loaded with sugar, before running back into a warehouse closet and throwing about twenty garment bags over her arms.

"Did you have anything in mind for your look? I know that the club must have given you some basic guidelines, but what about your personal style?"

"Oh yeah, they came with the invitation. Long skirt, no slit, no trains, no plunging necklines, no open backs, no beading or gems, no appliques, and no bright colors."

The poor stylist stopped in her tracks, returning virtually every dress she had in her hands.

"Okay, let's go to the nun section of the closet. What colors would you like? Keep them boring and muted." You giggled at the remark, rattling off a list of colors. She either hummed in agreement or gave a slight pause, allowing you time to retract the wrong choice. Green, red, and white were all off the table, seeing as the wags had already claimed them.

"What's Gavi's favorite color?" She teased, shoving a garment bag at you and ushering you behind the separator to change.

"Haha, very funny. I'm not going as his date."

"You can add the 'unfortunately' to the end of that. I won't judge you."

"Sure. It's unfortunate I'm not Pablo's date in the same way it's unfortunate that you're not Pedri's."

"Please don't speak such wicked thoughts about me and Pedro into the universe."

After cycling through about 15 dresses, the weight of the event and the pressure of traveling in two days was beginning to weigh on you, a tightness settling into your chest and disrupting your breathing.

"I'm going to look so stupid at this event. Nothing looks good." You huffed as you resisted the urge to face plant into the million euro pile of fabric on the floor. Your companion huffed as well, racking her brain for any guidance on how to dress you without making you look like a churchly sister or a plastic bag.

"Okay. Do you know anything about fashion?" She asked. Her tone was soft and delicate, like a kindergarten teacher asking a poor 6-year old if they knew how to tie their shoes.

"I try and keep up."

"If you could pick any look from the last like 10 years on the runway that you would wear to this event, what would it be?"

"I can't afford-"

"Not telling you to buy it. Just imagine. If you could wish a dress into your hands right now, what would it be?"

You sat and thought for a moment. It had been a long time since you separated yourself from the imposed masculine nature of your job. Your hair stayed up, your nails stayed short, your face always painted naturally (you had gotten dress-coded for winged eyeliner once). It had been years if not a complete decade since you allowed your thoughts to be pink and flowery. You had put girlhood on pause, allowed it to hibernate for the harsh winter war of professional success. But now it was spring, and the blossoms emerged once again. You weren't a physio going for a meeting. You were a princess preparing for her magical night in Paris, your fairy standing before you. This was one of those moments where you just had to take a pause. You had worked to hard to make it here. Now that you were here, enjoy it.

"Well, Viktor and Rolf had the most gorgeous tulle dresses ad fashion week. They were all strapless and tight at the top, and they had these beautiful full skirts and velvet ribbons. If I was a wag or a footballer accepting my own award, I would wear that." You said, still allowing the rose color of your imagination to tint your reality. You entertained the thought briefly that this is the first time Pablo would see you properly dolled up, and it made you want to squeal and kick your feet like a girl waiting for prom.

"Oh my God you're so smart!" She yelled, running back into the dark passage of the closet. She returned a moment later with a black fabric bag, gold filigree embossed onto the material. She hung and began to unzip, unveiling the most beautiful dress you had ever seen in your life. It was a pale nude, almost the color of beach sand, with a fitted corset top that came down to the top of the hip bone. It then flares slightly into a layered tulle skirt, the color solid except for one band of pale blue that wrapped around the skirt, the waist accentuated with a velvet bow in the same dusty blue. You reached out one shaking hand to smooth down the fabric, almost afraid it would disintegrate in your touch. (dress inspo for those interested)

"Bouguessa just sent us this. It's more subtle than the Viktor and Rolf ones, it goes with gold and silver jewelry, won't draw too much attention, and follows that ridiculous novel of rules." She said, hands on her hips behind you.

"I can't wear this." You said, trembling at the very thought of spilling a drop of... well anything really on this dress.

"You can and you will. We had it shorted for some actress wearing it in Cannes later this month, so wear nice shoes. Nothing too tall though - Pablo is 5'7 after all." You turned to her, and the face she had expected to smile back at her held eyes welling with tears. You pulled her against you, too fast for her to process, and let the tears stream down your cheeks.

"I have never had anyone be so kind to me. I can't thank you enough."

"I'm just letting you borrow a dress," she said, arms wrapping around you as well. "Do you not have friends?"

"Let's not open that can of worms."

~

"Hi, Dr. Gonzalez. You wanted to see me?" Your head peaked in ever so slightly to catch his hand waving you over. Despite knowing on a deep psychological level that he respected you as a professional, he still scared the bejeezus out of you.

"Yes. I forgot to give you your passes for tonight's flight. You'll be able to use this to get directly into the lounge and then on the jet we have chartered this evening."

"The... what?"

"How were planning on getting to Paris exactly, Miss y/n?" He took off his small glasses, a gesture to emphasize how stupid you were being at the present.

"I was going to take the train in tomorrow?" You responded extremely unsure of yourself.

"Take the train in the morning of the ceremony? Oh this generation. No foresight. You'll meet the team in the lounge at exactly 8pm this evening."

"So what I'm hearing is... I'm going on the private jet with Xavi and the squad?"

"Yes."

"And my accomodation..?"

"You will have a room in the hotel on the same floor as the rest of the team. Any other logistical questions? Do I need to explain what the Ballon D'Or is?"

"No, no, of course not. Thank you so much Dr. Gonzalez. I'll be sure to represent Barca well as an organization that loves women!" You got up hastily from your chair, exiting the office with Dr. Gonzalez yelling behind you.

"We didn't send you because you're a woman! Don't say that to any reporters!"

The Barcelona airport was, in your opinion, nothing special. That was until the woman at the check-in desk saw your badge and personally guided you past security and into a private Air France lounge. The room was decked out in plush sofas and chaise lounges, soft spa music bouncing between the walls. Enough food to feed the entire terminal had been laid out on stone and marble platters, and three girls in matching dark blue uniforms strolled around the room, waiting to be flagged down for assistance. This was nice. Maybe gold digging was really the best choice. It's a miracle that not everyone on the quad had Ferran-sized heads if this was the treatment they were used to.

"Ay look who finally made it." The voice greeting you belonged to Xavi, who was the first to stand up and embrace you. You greeted the rest of the group and introduced yourself to both Xavi and Robert's wives, thinking it more appropriate to sit with the other women on the trip. You chatted with them until it was time to board, at which point you could no longer exercise self control. You walked up to Pablo, tapping him on the shoulder.

He couldn't suppress his smile when he saw you, and Anna whispered to her husband how you had not introduced yourself as Gavi's girlfriend.

"Well, they're not together. She's a physio at the club."

"He looks at her like he's in love."

"Yeah. Everyone has noticed except the two of them."

Fighting the urge to stuff you into his hoodie so you could never disappear for a month again, Pablo opted to instead put one arm around you, embracing you in a tight side hug. You two walked onto the plane together, effectively abandoning Pedri, while catching up on everything that had gone on since your last meeting. He sat beside you on one of the couches, spinning around to lay with his legs on top of you, which were swiftly pushed off. The two of you now sat side by side, eating from a bag of sour gummies.

"I missed you." He said softly as you watched Barcelona grow smaller and smaller beneath you. You turned back to him resting your head on his shoulder. "I missed you too. A lot more than I thought I would." There was no more talk after that. No mention of feelings or trophies or anything really. Just sour bears and that telenovela finale he promised to watch with you.

The clock in the hotel lobby read 11:44pm as you fought with Pablo to try and carry your own bag in. Well, fought is a vague term - you tugged on his bicep while he dragged you and your suitcase inside.

"We're only here for two days - what on Earth could you have brought?" He asked, letting out an exaggerated huff as he set it down on its wheels.

"Makeup is heavy, my dress is heavy, my shoes are heavy - society's beauty standards are just weighing me down at every turn." He smiled back at you, your fingers itching to pinch his cheeks and kiss him on the tip of his nose and tell him that he had a smile that could bring cities to their knees.

"Pedri! Gavi!"

You turned around to the source of the voice, watching Pedri embrace a very tall and very familiar Spaniard. As he made his way over to Gavi, he gave you a once over that indicated his brain was still trying to figure out who you were. As his hand connected with Gavi's, it was like the electricity had switched back on.

"Oh, hey! You came and interviewed at Chelsea. Convince her to stay then, hermanito?" he clapped Gavi on the back of the neck.

"No, I didn't have to say anything. She spent an afternoon with you guys and came running back to the better club." You smiled shyly, feeling a little awkward at your once potential club interacting with the one you had chosen to stay at. You stepped to the side, noticing Perdi deep in conversation with someone else. Tan, tall, and beautiful, he turned to you, smiling wide and approaching.

"Ah hello again." You were in a hug before you knew it. You reciprocated, wishing one of the boys would take a photo so you could send it to ever girl in your high school.

"Joao! Great to see you again. How have you been?" He pulled away, hands still on your upper arms as he ranted to you about his difficult second half of the season had been. Pablo sat back, loosely listening to the exchange between Pedri and Kepa, with most of his energy focused on seething at the sight in front of him. Joao had talked to you for what? An hour? Why did he feel so comfortable touching you like this? His tongue found purchase in his cheek, his arms crossed over his chest. Xavi tapped him on the shoulder to hand him the key cards for your three, giving him a perfect excuse to break up your conversation.

"Here you go, Doctora. This one's yours. Doing well Joao?" There was an obvious hint of animosity in his voice that was evident to the both of you. Nevertheless, Joao released you to shake Gavi's hand.

"I saw you on TV the other day getting picked up by this one. Twitter went crazy speculating about you two dating. You guys.. aren't dating, right?" Joao directed the question to you, now fully turned away from Gavi, whose body temperature had exceeded 100 degrees.

"No, no. We're..." your eyes flashes to him, "just friends".

"I guess anyone would be grateful to have someone like you caring for their wellbeing. A shame that you didn't come over to us for this season. But I may get the privilege if I can get Xavi to place a bid on me." Pablo let out a laugh that was too loud and enthusiastic to be polite. If Joao had been offended, he didn't let it on.

"Oh, Mason is here, too! We're going out with him and his friend Jude for drinks here at the hotel bar. You should come with us! You can come too, Gavi- oh wait, are you even old enough to drink?" The question was punctuated with a smirk, an obvious rebuttal to Gavi's humor at him joining the club.

"I'm flattered but I need to get some rest for tom- wait Jude as in Bellingham?" You asked, eyes wide.

"Of course. Know any other Jude's being nominated?" You heard Gavi breathing loud and heavy beside you, taking this as your cue to call it a night. Before you left, Joao grabbed your wrist, taking a look at your card.

"Floor three. Same as us. Maybe we'll see you around." He hugged you once more as a good night, then headed over to Mason, who waved at the group of you with Jude beside him. You made your way to the elevator with Gavi and felt embarrassed. You hadn't even done anything but be polite, but in some way you felt like you had committed a sin in talking so freely with Joao. Engrossed in thought, your face met Gavi's back as he suddenly stopped in front of a door.

"This is my room. I'll see you tomorrow." You stopped him in his tracks, one hand preventing him from crossing the threshold.

"Are you mad at me?" You asked, voice soft and even, trying to disguise the hurt.

"I- no, of course not, Doctora. Just nervous. Didn't think I'd be seeing my competition tonight." You pulled him into a hug, hands around his waist and your head on his chest with his above it. He let out a shaky breath, and all his fears with them. Joao had invited you out and yet you were still here, in his arms and in front of his door.

"Will I see you tomorrow? Before the 'big show'?" He asked, keeping you against his chest, just for a moment longer.

"Staff aren't allowed on the carpet so I'll see you inside the theater."

"Don't sit next to Joao tomorrow." He said with a slight pout, and you wanted to just pull him down and kiss him so hard he lost consciousness from the lack of air.

"I don't think they'll let me sit next to the players. Not important enough."

"You're going to be one of the most important people in that room. And just, don't sit next to him."

"I won't Pablo."

"Promise?" He said, sticking out his pinky. You rolled your eyes and wrapped your finger around his, bringing your conjoined hands upwards. You twisted them so that your thumb was facing him and vice versa. You leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss to the skin of his hand. His breath caught in his throat, and he swallowed audibly.

"What are you.. what was that?"

"You have to kiss it to seal the promise."

He brought your entwined hands up to his lips, looking at you once more for any objection, before closing his eyes and kissing your knuckles.

"You have soft lips." You said looking between his lips and his hooded eyes.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Well, I'm two rooms over. Good night, Pablo. Good luck."

He watched you walk down the hall and enter your room, only returning to his when the door clicked shut. He pressed his back to the wood, allowing it to cool the sweat pooling under his hoodie. He was so thankful that he wasn't sharing a room with Pedri, because the feeling of your lips on his skin, soft and plump, had made him so incredibly hard.

~

"We are here live from the red carpet of the annual Ballon D'or ceremony, and the stars of the football world have come out in full force. On the carpet now Xavi Hernandez and his wife Núria, as well as Ballon D'Or contender Robert Lewandowski and his wife, champion in her own right, Anna. These are the veterans of football, and they should be shortly accompanied by the young trailblazers leading the New Era of Barcelona football."

It was three minutes until Gavi was supposed to step onto the carpet, and he was panicking. His breathing was shallow, his collar felt like it was suffocating him, and he was sweating bullets under his suit.

"Pedri, I can't do this." He said, genuine fear swimming in his eyes as he looked to his friend for comfort.

"Yes you can, hermano. All you have to do is walk and smile. Maybe answer some questions. You can absolutely do all of those things."

"What if I make an ass of myself?" He said, hiding behind Pedri as their handler signalled 30 seconds until they walked.

"You are here being told you are one of the best under 21 players in the world, and then you get to walk into the theater and see the best person in the world."

"I do really want to see her in a dress."

"I was talking about Leo Messi." Pedri deadpanned, and Gavi was shoved on the carpet genuinely laughing, a million bulbs flashing to capture his joy. He was here. He was 18 years old and on his way to shake hands with greatness. He was walking the carpet with his best friend in the world in a five thousand euro suit. He thought to his younger self, eleven years old and hiding behind his mother on his first day at La Masia. All the dreams he had were now the blueprint for his reality. Barca first team player? Check. Goal scorer? Check. Trophy winner? Check. Beautiful girl to share every euphoric moment with? Pending.

He took a few steps forward, waiting for Pedri to be photographed before he walked down to the end of the carpet, taking a group photo and heading to the microphones.

"Gavi! You look wonderful this evening. Are you excited for your first ceremony?"

"Oh, yeah, of course. It's something that I always dreamed about and now that my dream is a reality, I am just trying to enjoy every moment."

"Well you have had an absolutely stellar season playing with the reigning Kopa winner here, Pedri. Is it something you're thankful for, to play with him and to play with Barca?"

He looked over at Pedri, whose eyebrows were wiggling causing his serious demeanor to break.

"I'm absolutely so pleased to work with this guy here. He's just incredible on the field and we work well together. Barca is my lifelong club, and I am grateful to play there, to have them take care of me and keep me healthy." The reporter gave a thumbs up, and the boy stepped to the side to allow Pedri to finish his interview, wanted to have company as he entered the theater.

"Taking care of you and keeping you healthy, hm? Why didn't you just say her full name?"

The theater was glorious, all gold ornaments and plush red velvet, giving it a timeless and glamorous look. He craned his neck, looking around for those familiar eyes and inviting smile that had made his life so much worse and simultaneously so much better.

"Pablo." The voice came from behind him, and when he turned around, the world moved in slow motion. Your dress, pale nude and powder blue, made you look like a Greek deity. You could give the entire Spanish royal family a run for their money with the way the bodice seemed to mold against you, flaring out into a beautiful cascade of material. It ended at the bottom of your ankles, your feet hugged by blue heels, an anklet handing off that Gavi couldn't quite make out. Your jewelry glinted in the lights, the necklaces sitting between your collar bones drawing in the eye to the expanse of your chest and neck, and he had to try so, so hard to tear his eyes from this. He focused on all these details because looking at your face made him go slack-jawed.

Your hair was cascading freely, front pieces twirled away to show off the beauty of your feature. Your makeup was simple - glowing skin with rosy cheeks, black liner framing and highlighting your eyes, and glossy pink lips. Pablo knew nothing about makeup, but he knew for certain that if he got his hands on you, he would destroy whatever you had painted on your lips to make them shine. You batted your long lashes, and smiled shyly as Pedri let out a low whistle.

"Wow, who knew you were hiding all of this? Were you looking for husband tonight? This is the way to get it." He offered a hand, spinning you around so he (or rather Gavi) could get a full look, the blue bow in your hair flowing beautifully.

"You're too sweet, Pedri. I just didn't want to embarrass the club."

"Embarrass?!" They both exclaimed loudly, catching the attention of a few bystanders.

"You're on track to upstage us. They pay you enough to afford Prada?" Pedri asked again, pointing to your shoes.

"Your mortal enemy lent them to me."

A friend of Pedri's came up to whisk him away to another group, leaving you standing with Pablo.

"So, what do you think, Pablo? Too much?" You were nervous, resisting the urge to clench your dress in your fists and scurry off. You smoothed your clammy palms down the fabric as well.

"Doctora, you know I'm not super smart like you. I don't even know the words I want to tell you right now. So I'll use one I know: you look breathtaking." He practically whispered out the last word, causing your head to snap up, eyes meeting. "I think you might be the prettiest girl in the room right now." He shoved his hands deep into his pockets, swallowing back his nerves and pride. You were absolutely stunning, and no friendship or professionalism would stop him from letting you know.

"Thank you, Pablo. You have no idea how much that means coming from you." You moved forward, adjusting his bowtie as an usher came to guide him to his seat. You moved to the back with other team staff members, waving to him as he walked off. You were independent and a girlboss and all that, but it felt good to have him think you were pretty.

~

"And the winner is... Gavi."

The crowd erupted in cheers, the clapping so loud it was deafening. Pedri smiled from ear to ear, watching as his friend came up to the stage to take his place as Europe's shining star, their Golden Boy. Gavi had been frozen in his seat for a second before Robert pushed him up, clapping him on the back and congradulating him. As he placed his hands around the trophy, his peripheral vision registered the people moving from their seats, standing and clapping for his success. Pedri was smug in his congratulations, reminding Pablo he never had a doubt he would be handing off this trophy to him. And as Pablo took his place at the podium, the gold statue adorning his side, he saw you. In the third to last row of the theater, you stood, by yourself in a row full of staff, clapping excitedly for his achievement. Your smile was bright, teeth on full display to convey the level of genuine joy you felt in that moment. You almost looked happier than Gavi himself. And as the applause died down and people retook their seats, he watched you sit back down, hands crossed over your chest in pride and admiration. He looked straight at you, a point of comfort in the large crowd, and only then did he allow the unbridled joy of being the very best to fill him.

"Thank you. I am so proud to have achieved this, to have won such a prestigious award in my first full season with Barca's first team. Thank you to my family for standing by me in the good times and the bad, and for believing in me. Thank you to the club, who gave me every opportunity to play and show my skill this season. A huge thanks to my coach and teammates for helping me succeed. And finally, I want to recognize and thank the Barca staff, especially the physio team, for all their hard work this season. I wouldn't be here without their dedication. Once again, thank you very much for the honor. Visca Barca."

All he wanted was to run off the stage into your arms, to ignore the questions about his season and his success, but there would be time later. You, on the other hand, were trying to recover from the shell shock of Pablo recognizing you specifically during his acceptance speech. Your phone buzzed in your lap at a mile a minute, text messages flooding in from friends and family telling you they had watched Gavi's praise of you on TV. You sat in that same shocked state until the ceremony ended.

~

Why on Earth did so many people want to talk to Gavi? Sure, he had just won one of the most important awards in football, but they had already played his highlight reel. What else could they want to know that wasn't on YouTube? He still smiled politely, congratulating Luka and Robert on their awards before he was able to catch a spare moment alone at a far table, Pedri pulling up to his side shortly after, also fatigued from small talk. His trophy was in hand, a little less shiny now that every person who greeted him had asked to hold it, the luster dulled by grease and fingerprints. The two stood in a comfortable silence, exchanging remarks about the room or the guests at the function every once in a while.

"Pablo! There you are!"

He looked up at the sound of your voice, but not nearly fast enough as you came barreling into him, arms thrown around his neck and embracing him so tight he thought he might pass out (not that he was complaining).

"I'm so, so proud of you." You whispered in his ear, squeezing a little tighter before releasing him, smoothing the soft material of his blazer to release the wrinkles you caused with your attack.

"I'm so glad all your hard work had amounted to this, and I hope I'm around to see how amazing you'll be in the future." You said, emotion making your voice crack slightly. There was something about Pablo that convinced you, deep in your soul, that you were two halves meant to come together. He was young, passionate, ambitious - a reflection of yourself. And to watch him succeed? To see him soar to heights previously thought impossible? It was something you wouldn't trade for the world.

Gavi's heartstrings were so tight they were ready to snap. He had prayed to hear so many different things from you, but never realized that this recognition, this pride expressed so freely, would be the most meaningful. This was it. This was the moment. Suit on, trophy in hand, this was the moment to express how much needed you in his life in a different way. How much he needed to keep making you proud.

"Y/N! There you are."

Joao's built arm was wrapped around you, smelling slightly of whiskey and Dior Fahrenheit. The anger vein in Gavi's forehead began to make a reappearance.

"Mason had to see you and introduce you to some of the boys." Mason greeted you as well, and called over his 'friend Jude' to be introduced. Jude Bellingham was an absolute sculpture, holding a glass of God knows what in such an effortless manner, his tie also abandoned in favor of leaving his first two buttons popped.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Jude. I've heard about you from this one - thinks you're a medical Godsend." He ended with a wink. Pedri could feel the heat radiating from Gavi's side, and apparently so could Jude, who looked up and offered a wave.

"Congrats, mate. Brilliant speech." He said, raising a glass to help bridge the language barrier. You turned your head, quickly translating the sentiment.

"Oh, you're with them? The super special physio that's gotten praised in his speech? I should've known I was in the presence of greatness." You laughed politely, tucking a loose strand of hair behind one ear.

"I'm really nothing special."

"Oh, well, that can't be true. I'll see for myself when I'm in SPain next year." A wink. Pedri grasped Pablo's arm to prevent blows. "Come with me, I want to introduce you to some of the boys and the staff from City."

You quickly turned around, finding Gavi and Pedri whispering to one another.

"Pablo! He wants to introduce me to some people. I'll come find you!"

Thirty minutes later, Pablo was at a table with his trophy and a scowl, moping on what should be a happy night. After his second turn around the room, Pedri joined him, hoping to alleviate the burden.

"Hermano, are you-"

"Why would she just go with him? Like, I understand not being able to turn someone away when they're in your face, but to go with him?! Why would she do that?" He asked, sounding more and more small and child-like as he continued.

"She was just networking, hermano. Trying to meet people and make connections."

"Connections. Look what her connections have got her. Other guys coming up to her, trying to flirt in the most obvious ways possible. None of them know her like I do. None of them will ever - can ever - care about her in the way that I do. She needs to realize that no one will ever want to treat her right the way that I long to."

"Maybe you need to realize that it's not always the best guy that will get the girl, but the boldest one."

"What?"

"How many opportunities have you had, hm? To tell her you wanted her, to profess your love, to kiss her in her car or under street lamps or in front of the whole world? But you just stay sitting on the sidelines waiting for her to come to you. You know what's happening during that time? A Joao or a Jude or a Martin is taking the risk of telling her she's amazing, and she's going to accept. She's going to accept love that's less than yours because someone else was willing to give it to her, proudly and confidently. And you'll be sitting next to me, twenty years from now when we're both retired, talking about how the love of your life slipped between your fingers. She's here, right now, and you are still waiting. Either take the shot or let someone else shoot."

A fear shot through Pablo that he had never felt before. The idea of you, right now, falling in love with someone else made the bile rise in his throat. He couldn't do it again. He couldn't watch you be with a man who thought you were anything less than the entire universe. It was him. Pablo Gavi was the one meant to have you, to hold you, to protect you from every evil and show you every joy. You were his soulmate, and he would move heaven and earth for his lover who was written for him in the stars.

He stood, scurrying to where Jude and the others had congregated. "Sorry to interrupt, but have you seen y/n?" He asked, trying to keep his voice steady and free from the terror threatening to consume him. He couldn't see your form anywhere in the ballroom.

"Oh," Kepa was the one to reply as the official Spanish speaker, "she went up to her room a few minutes ago. I think Joao took her up."

Pablo nodded before speed walking towards the door, breaking into a full sprint towards the elevators. Please. Please no. Please not Joao. Please not anyone. The ding when the elevator reached the third floor made his blood ripple, and he speed walked to your door, muttering under his breath.

"Please don't be in love with someone else."

He reached the door of your room, paralyzed with fear. He didn't know what he was about to do, but he knew he would implode and self-destruct if he didn't do something.

He lifted his fist, took a breath, and knocked firmly on the door. A moment later, you opened the door, still in the perfect shape he saw you before, but now barefoot on the plush carpet of the hotel.

"Pablo?"

He peered over your shoulder, trying to get a glimpse of the room behind.

"Are you looking for something?"

"Please, tell me he's not in there."

"Who, Pablo?"

"Anyone. Please tell me that there is no one in there now waiting on you. Please tell me," he pleaded softly, moving toward you and placing his hands on your shoulder, moving one down to rest right above where your heart beat. "Please tell me there is no one else in here. I have never begged in my life, Doctora, but I'm here now to beg you: tell me who is the one you're reserving a place in your heart for. Because I know, more than I know anything else in this world, that my soul is yours. Everything I could possibly give, I am asking you to take it without a second thought. And I have pretended, for months now, that I don't need you like the very air I'm breathing. But the more I pretend, the more clear it becomes: I have never loved anything as strongly as I love you. It is overwhelming and all consuming the way every heartbeat and breath is just for you. So just tell me how long I will have to wait. Days, months, years - tell me how long it will be until I get to love you, wholly and completely. Until I get to love you as you deserve. Because there is no other choice. There is no moving on. Every angel in heaven knows that I would struggle in vain until my last dying breath trying to get over you."

There were no words. Hell, there was no air. There was only Pablo, breathless and shaking before you, his fragile heart in your hands. Your hands moved to cup his face, and the urge to cry didn't consume you. You pulled him in, lips finally connecting with his, and the electricity that jolted through you could have lit up all of Paris. His lips were slow to react, and as you pulled away he followed, reluctant to stop kissing you in fear he would never start again.

"You, Pablo. My heart is yours. I'm yours. I always have been."

This time it was Pablo who pulled you in, his arms around your waist lifting you into him. He basked in the plump flesh of your lips, the way it felt to hold you in his arms, a million times better than he could have imagined. It was as if your hearts were racing in sync, thumping the same beat that reverberated around the little bubble the two of you were in. You shifted hands from his face to his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. You had craved this, to be so close and connected with Pablo. The kiss was slow, passionate, the kiss to say 'I have waited for you for so long' and the one in return to say 'I'm here to stay'.

Pedri had gone upstairs to look for Pablo, scared he had committed manslaughter, and found the two of you there, kissing in the hallway, arms enveloping each other and lips locked in a soft and tender embrace. He placed Pablo's trophy (his whole reason for finding him on the ground, turning to leave before stopping and performing his duties as a friend: taking a picture. Maybe he should buy Gavi a whole pack of frames.

You finally pulled away, face flushed and lips pinkish and swollen from the liplock. You kept your arms around Pablo, turning your face to hide in his shoulder. You spotted the golden statue on the floor and smiled as you moved to pick it up, stopped by his strong and unfaltering embrace.

"Your award, Pablo."

"You're my real prize of this evening."

"Ugh how corny." You laughed, finally freeing yourself to go and pick it up. You carried it before turning from Pablo to unlock your room door, timidly standing in the entryway.

"Do... you want to come inside?" You asked, cradling his trophy in your arms.

"Do you want me to come inside?" He asked, heart threatening to break his sternum. He had never thought of going so far so fast.

"I mean if you don't want to-"

"No I want to, preciosa. God I want- but I don't want to make you feel like you have to."

"You're not. I want you Pablo. All of you." You opened the door wider, inviting him in. "Dale, campeon."

~

You left Pablo on the bed while you went to slip out of your dress. As much as you wanted Pablo (in an immediate fashion), you couldn't risk stains or rips on such an expensive lended piece. You re-emerged from the bathroom in a black night gown, a satin slip that came just past your fingertips. Pablo had made himself comfortable, stripping his jacket and shoes, abandoning the bowtie and unbuttoning the top of his shirt. You walked out slowly, standing in front of him shyly.

"What do you think?" You asked, giving a little spin. He reached out a hand, pulling you down to the bed and seating you on his lap.

"I lied before," he said softly. "You weren't 'maybe the prettiest girl tonight'. You're the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. In every room and on every night." His hands found your hips and his lips found yours, and the flames were fanned. He moved with a fervor you had never experienced, like he couldn't get enough of the feel of your lips or the taste of your tongue. He bit down softly on your bottom lip, desperate to illicit every pretty sound he could from you. He nibbled gently, pulling with his teeth and then soothing with his tongue before reuniting it with yours. He gripped the flesh of your hips, and your hands leg his lower, encouraging him to find stability on the flesh of your ass.

"You're perfect." He said breathlessly, moving to kiss and nibble at your neck. You shifted on his lap, desperate for any friction to help douse the flames between your legs. He shifted the two of you so that you were straddling one of his thighs, allowing you rock yourself back and forth as he continued worshipping and lapping at your skin.

"Pablo, it's so good." You whined as he moved down to kiss the exposed tops of your breasts. He looked up at you, asking for permission to remove your nightgown, which you gave with quick enthusiasm. He grabbed at the bottom hem, lifting it over your head in one fluid motion before stopping. He stared at you, moving across your bare chest and down to your nude lace thong.

"Oh this won't do." He muttered while gripping your waist and flipping your positions so that you were laying on the mattress with him above you.

"What?" You asked while your arms moved to cover your chest. He removed them swiftly, licking his lips and giving each breast a kiss, making your nipples harden.

"I need to have you spread out underneath me so I can take in every gorgeous inch of you." He said before he trailed his lips down your entire torso.

"Can't believe someone who looks like you is all mine. I've wanted you for so long." He finished his sentence with a searing kiss to your lips.

"Just wanted you to see how much someone could love you. And I would still love you, even if you want to stop right now and never do this again." He said, pulling back slightly before you threaded your fingers through his hair and brought his mouth to your chest.

"No, don't wanna stop. I want you. I need you Pablo please." You whine out, and hoped he knew that you meant it in every possible way. He allowed his tongue to drag across your nipples before sucking one into his mouth, playing with the other as he watched for your reactions. His cock was straining against his boxers and dress pants, and he rutted against the mattress for any sort of relief.

"Pablo it's too good."

"Always want to be good for you, Doctora. Wanna give you the best."

He moved his hands to the waistband of your panties, moving them down and watching the resistance, seeing how big the wet patch was and how your thighs clenched for some sort of pleasure.

"Open up, pretty girl."

"Pablo, want you. Want you please."

"I'm right here, baby. All yours."

You grabbed on of his hands sucking two of his fingers in his mouth while keeping your eyes locked, tongue circling and his cock now rubbing up on the flesh of your thigh.

"Want you inside me. Please, Pablo."

He rubbed his two wet fingers up and down your slit, teasing and just listening to the way you reacted. The cool air heightened everything, and you could do nothing but squirm in place.

"Love the way you say my name, preciosa. Let me take care of you." He slipped a finger inside, and you both moaned in sync. You at the feeling of finally having Pablo pleasing you, and him at the wetness he encountered. He quickly put in another, lips going back to yours as if they were addictive. He leaned back, slipping out of his trousers and boxers when you put a hand on his chest.

"Pablo. I..."

"We can stop if you want." He said, already making a move to get up and redress despite his cock leaking.

"No. I want this. I want you. I just... promise me something?"

"Anything."

"Please don't leave me after we have sex."

He looked at your hurting eyes and felt his chest squeeze. He cupped your face, kissing your forehead. "I could never leave you, Doctora." Another chaste kiss, this time to the tip of your nose. "You don't have to worry. I'll always be with you. I promise." He brought you in and kissed you, lips slotting together and tongues dancing together as if they had years of practice.

"Always have to seal the promise with a kiss." He said playfully, and you looked away in embarrassment. He spread your legs and found a space between them, tilting your head with a finger under your chin.

"Look at me baby. I want to see that pretty face when I make you feel good. Wanna see how hot you are when you cum all over me. Make the cutest little mess." He said, spitting in his hand slightly and rubbing the length of his cock. You sat up on your forearms, watching the erotic sight as Pablo ran his tip up and down your slit.

"Pablo," you whined.

He lined himself up, lifting you by the back of the neck to kiss you as he pushed in, the stretch causing you to bite his bottom lip harder than expected (he kind of liked it). He stayed for a minute on his forearms above you, hoping that time would allow you to adjust and prevent him from busting on stroke three. He placed his arms beside your head, leaning down and resting his forehead on yours.

"I love you." He said, picking up his pace as he did so. Your whine was high pitched and loud, fueling Pablo's ego tremendously.

"I love you more." You retorted, moving your hips to spur him to go faster. He pulled out of your slowly once again, then re-sheathed himself with force. He was moving slow and taking his sweet time, savoring every delicious second of the evening.

"Not possible, angel." And then pulled all the way out before slamming back in. Pablo was forceful, shifting your body with every thrust. He kissed your lips and neck, purple springs blooming from each spot he touched. You loved the feeling. You belonged to him, body and soul, and you wanted everybody to know.

"Please, Pablo. Faster. I'm begging." You breathed out, and he could do nothing but oblige.

"That's my pretty girl, taking it so well. Feeling so fucking good wrapped around me. So wet and sucking me in. Fuck. You're so good for me."

You had decided to suck on Pablo's neck to prevent you from moaning your heart out to all of Paris. A large hickey was developing just above his collarbone with not one care towards its ability to be covered. You were feeling that familiar buildup in your stomach, and brought a hand down to play with your clit that was quickly swatted away.

"Gonna cum, baby? Let me spoil you. Let me take care of you." He said as he pressed his thumb to your clit and started rubbing circles into the sensitive bud. There was no more suppressing your moans as they emerged full force. It was perfect. Pablo was perfect, telling you how much he wanted and loved you while looking after your pleasure.

"Please don't stop Pablo I'm so so fucking close."

"Wouldn't dream of it." He said, and seconds later, his name was the only thing on your lips as you came, gripping onto his back and trailing your nails down, his toned back the only thing keeping you tethered to reality. He finished a minute after you, rolling over in exhaustion. You expected him to turn onto his side and ignore you like every other man you had slept with. Instead, he got you both under the comforter, laying down and bringing you to lay on his chest.

"You're so incredible, do you know that?" He asked, kissing your forehead gently.

"You're one to talk." There's giggles and comfort despite the lack of clothes. When the high dies down, you turn to his tired form, which is still smiling at you.

"What are you so smiley for?" You asked.

"I'm with the best person in the world. How can I not smile when I'm with you?"

You laid back on his chest, guilt and paranoia seeping in, obvious by the tension building in your form.

"I love you, Doctora. I love you, I love you, I love you. You are worth more than sex. And I don't love you just because you're hot. You complete me, in every possible way."

"I love you more, Pablo."

"As the medical professional, you should know that's not possible."

He released you from his grip to get shirts and underwear for the two of you to sleep in, still not used to Pablo + you + nudity. You laid back down, cuddled into Pablo's chest as you had for months now, and drifted off into the most relaxing sleep. You were in love with a boy. And he was hopelessly, desperately in love with you. And there was nothing else in the world that mattered in this moment except for the way you tangled together to feel safe. Before he could drift off, Pablo heard the ding of his phone. A photo from Pedri of the two of you in the hall.

[Pedri]: congrats on all your wins today hermano

~

The flight back to Barcelona was nerve-racking for you. You were anxious as to how your boss and peers would perceive your new relationship with Pablo, which he established right away.

"No 'what are we' bullshit'. You're my girlfriend, and that's only because I didn't have a ring on me to make you my fiancee."

His hand was laced through yours the entire walk through the terminal, so proud to show you off to the world as his. As you two boarded the flight, it was Anna who finally asked if something had happened in Paris.

"I asked her to be my girl and she said yes."

There was a round of cheering from those on the plane, and after a swift whatsapp message from Pedri, there were hundreds of messages in the groupchat, from congrats to jokes to utter disbelief. Neither of you looked at any of it. Pablo was too busy counting the stars he saw in your eyes, studying every feature on your face, sneaking in a kiss whenever he could. And you listened to him ramble, intoxicated by the sound of his voice, the melody bringing you tranquility. He was your peace. He was your everything.

"Ah, so you two will be needing these." Xavi said, placing the 'Relationship Disclosure' form and two pens in front of the both of you. "Gavi, don't distract her from her work."

"Hey! Shouldn't it be the other way around?"

"No. You're the distraction." You teased, earning Pablo's full attention and wrath.

"I can tell by the way you've been staring at me for two days."

"Oh Pablo, I've been staring at you much longer than that."

"I hope you never stop."

~

A/N: and there it is folks. Almost 8 months later, here is Just Pretend. There will be an epilogue to this at some point to show what happens with their relationship (and it will have better smut), but this is it for the main story. Please share any feedback you have in replies, reblogs, or in the ask box. Thank you so so much to everyone who has stuck by this story for so long. I love you all.

*~*Taglist*~*

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[listography]

10 PUERTO RICAN ARTISTS THAT ARE CHANGING THE FACE OF MUSIC (BORICUAS MATANDO LA LIGA)

1. Bad Bunny

2. Rauw Alejandro

3. Young Miko

4. Buscabulla

5. Mora

6. Eladio Carrión

7. Villano Antillano

8. Rainao

9. Matt Louis

10. Lunay

[gimmenctar]

gimme more 3

jaemin x leitora parte 3/4 acho que vocês vão querer me esganar MNDI

parte 1 parte 2

Sem saber o que fazer, você liga pro Chenle antes de ir. Obviamente estava impecável, lisa como um bebê, perfumada, basicamente preparada pra tudo, mas está tão nervosa que precisava de um choque de realidade. 

“E você quer meu conselho para…?” A voz do outro lado da linha questiona, claramente ele está tentando tirar uma confissão de você.

“Ah, Chenle, não sei! Tô nervosa de ir conversar com ele.” 

“Vocês dois não vivem enfurnados na casa do outro? O que aconteceu? Porra, ainda tá nessa história de ficar estranho?” 

“Não sei pra que que eu–”

“Vocês ainda não foderam?” Ele pergunta mais direto, e você grunhe de raiva. 

“Não, Chenle. É exatamente por isso que eu tô te ligando, porque eu preciso de…” 

“Nem vem! Se o Jaemin descobre que eu te comi, eu tô ferrado.” 

Você ignora o que isso implica, e grita mais com o amigo. 

“NÃO É ISSO, ZHONG! Olha, sinceramente… Eu só precisava me acalmar. Talvez aconteça, talvez não… grande possibilidade de que não. Só que eu precisava me acalmar antes de ir, ouvir que não vamos estragar nossa amizade.”

“Ah, isso vai. Mas isso é bom, cara. Nada que um bom chá não resolva, vai por mim. Vai dar bom.” 

Você segue pra casa do amigo sem imaginar seus planos quase maquiavélicos. Jaemin sabe o que quer, e ele vai ter. Como um calculista, ele prepara tudo muito bem: seu lanche favorito, bolo de cenoura com chocolate; um filme que você queria muito ver só esperando pra dar play; o sofá com mais almofadas; a meia luz e ainda uma janta engatilhada caso fique até mais tarde. 

Ele te recebe com um sorriso grande no rosto, você chega até a pensar que ele parece confiante demais. O beijo no canto da boca e a mão na cintura são parte do plano, ele percebe que teu corpo reage rápido aos toques, as bochechas enrubescem. O lanche bem montado aquece seu coração enquanto conversam sobre os dias que passaram, e ele te dá toda atenção do mundo: balança a cabeça e reage a cada história, faz perguntas, se inclina com a mão na tua coxa pra te ouvir melhor. Definitivamente um mestre na arte de flertar sutilmente, sabendo que você notaria todos os sinais. 

Depois de lanchar, ele te convida pra sala, te conduz pela mão, os dedinhos engatados te causam um risinho insistente, está boba por Jaemin enquanto admira as costas dele a cada passo até o outro cômodo. Ele se sente orgulhoso de si mesmo, a confirmação de que está caindo na armadilha dele encheu seu ego. 

“Cê quer ver filme antes e conversar depois ou o contrário, princesa?” Ele pergunta pra te dar a falsa impressão de poder de escolha, já sabe onde vai terminar isso. 

“Quero… quero ver o filme.”

Tão previsível.

Ele sorri, te entregando o controle e sentando colado em você, a perna cruzada se apoia na sua coxa, e você fica inquieta nos primeiros minutos. Aos poucos, ao longo do filme, relaxa nos braços do amigo. Ele até te puxa pra um abraço, e você encosta a cabeça no peitoral dele, ficando entre as pernas definidas de Jaemin. 

Ele espera até que você se esqueça do porque veio, espera até que esteja tão envolvida no filme que não pense muito sobre as digitais calejadas alisando teus braços devagar. E, realmente, você não responde. Então, mais devagar ainda, ele desce os carinhos pras pernas, focando em massagear tuas coxas de fora pra dentro, começando do joelho, passando pelo meio… É quando ele chega mais perto do quadril que você se remexe no colo masculino. 

“Tá tudo bem, linda?” Finge preocupação, deveria ser pago pela atuação excelente, quando ele mesmo estava se controlando pra não se deixar levar. 

“Sim, Nana.” Tua voz sai abafada, as palmas macias insistem no carinho na parte interna da tua coxa. Sem perceber, você abre um pouco mais as pernas, e Jaemin faz bom proveito do acesso extra.

As mãos sobem mais, testando os teus limites. Ele já não foca mais na TV, você o sente respirar no teu cangote, completamente investido no que está fazendo contigo. 

“Jaemin!” Exclama surpresa ao sentir as mãos passarem pelos ossinhos do quadril, evitando o centro ardente de propósito. 

Virando-se pra trás, encontra o rosto confuso do amigo. Ele quase ri, porém força a expressão questionadora. 

“Que houve, princesa?” Ele não resiste deixar um beijinho na tua bochecha tão próxima, e você fecha os olhos. 

“Seu carinho, Nana…” Não consegue completar a frase, Jaemin desce os beijinhos pro teu ombro exposto, te causando arrepios. 

“Tava bom, é?” 

Você assente, sem forças. Esqueceu mesmo que teu objetivo ao virar-se era, na verdade, confrontá-lo pelas ações. Está rendida nos braços de Jaemin, e ele aproveita o momento pra te virar inteira, botando tuas pernas envolvendo seu quadril. 

“Quer conversar agora?” 

Ele sabe o quão bonito é. Repousa a cabeça no sofá, acariciando suas coxas como antes, mas te olha com uma intensidade quase magnética agora. Você não é capaz de desviar o olhar, admirando cada traço de seu rosto, especialmente quando ele toma o lábio inferior nos dentes perfeitos. 

Não, quero te beijar. A resposta fica entalada na garganta, porém é como se ele tivesse escutado teus pensamentos. Ele aproxima o rosto do teu, estudando tuas feições com cuidado. Te dá um selinho molhado, sente o gosto doce do hidratante nos teus lábios e se afasta pra checar se está tudo bem.

A boquinha partida, esperando mais, os olhos cerrados… Jaemin fica maluco, sente uma vibração na garganta, satisfeito demais com tua docilidade. 

Novamente te beija, e agora de verdade. Abusa teus lábios um tempinho antes de lambê-los, encontrando tua língua na dele logo depois. O ritmo é insanamente devagar, gostosinho demais. Acaba contigo, acaba com ele. 

Jaemin suga tua língua com devoção, ainda mais lento do que antes. Ele aperta tua bunda com vontade quando você geme na boca dele, te fazendo sentir a rigidez deliciosa que crescia conforme se beijavam, se tocavam. 

Perdendo um pouco da vergonha, tuas mãos passeiam pelo corpo musculoso do rapaz a fim de explorar as áreas sensíveis. É inevitável arranhar o peitoral bem trabalhado, gostoso, e Jaemin suspira, mordendo teu lábio, demora pra soltar. 

“Tava querendo tanto, gatinha.” Ele declara, interrompendo o beijo, estabilizando teus quadris, te fazendo parar. 

Óbvio que ele queria continuar, a vontade é de te rasgar no meio. Mas não era o plano, queria te provocar até te ver quebrar, ficar doida pra dar pra ele. 

Não que você já não estivesse uma pilha de nervos, a ereção roçando na tua intimidade, a expressão safada no rosto dele, as respirações se misturando. Jaemin alcançaria teu limite logo.

n/a: ai, ai, na jaemin... eu escrevi essa fic tem MESES. a parte 4, porém, tá em produção. é a parte final! vamos ver o que vai sair. <33

[didishawn]

Masterlist

Masterlist 2

Football players

Pedri

Open blinds

Silent (+18)

Little Messi

Sex therapy is what works the best + Ferran Torres (+18)

World Cup

Vogue

Free day + Ferran Torres

Stress Relief + Ferran Torres (+18)

Make sure he hears you are taken (+18)

Control over you (+18)

Post match + Ferran Torres (+18) / pt 2

Thoughts about the future (+18)

4-0 + Ferran Torres (+18)

El Clásico

Cuidado con el 7 (+18)

For future use (+18)

Finally after so long (+18)

Just best friends (+18)

Locker room schemingans + Gavi (+18)

Unlocked door (+18)

Teaching lesson + Ferran (+18)

You are perfect to me (+18)

Preparation (+18)

Set fire to the rain

Campeones de la Liga (+18 imagine)

Man City #1 Fan + Kun Agüero (+18)

Milk (+18)

Under the dining table + Gavi (+18)

Ferran Torres

Summertime Fun + Gavi + Ferran (+18)

NBA Brings You Closer to Your Friend's Gf + Eric (+18)

Sex therapy is what works the best + Pedri (+18)

Free day + Pedri

Stress Relief + Pedri (+18)

Off limits (+18)

Post match + Pedri (+18) / pt 2

4-0 + Pedri (+18)

Baby fever (+18)

Rough jealousy (+18)

Number 1 Fan (+18)

On the other side of the wall (+18)

Height difference (+18)

Teaching lesson + Pedri (+18)

His way to relieve stress

Broken souls

Campeones de la Liga (+18 imagines)

Summertime Fun + Pedri + Gavi (+18)

Gavi

Dumb boy

Begging for forgiveness (Bad ending to Dumb boy +Ansu) slight nsfw

Begging for forgiveness (Good ending)

Stress Relief: the Remix + Ansu (+18)

Green is a good color when it comes to fucking (+18)

Locker room schemingans + Pedri (+18)

Red bikini (+18)

Campeones de la Liga (+18 imagines)

Under the dining table + Pedri (+18)

Summertime Fun + Pedri + Ferran (+18)

Ansu Fati

Begging for forgiveness (Part 2 of Dumb boy + Gavi) slight nsfw

Stress Relief: the Remix + Gavi (+18)

Jules Koundé

No more Muchachos (+18)

Personal model (+ 18)

Airhead (+18)

Pretty little thing (+18)

Purity ring (+18)

Campeones de la Liga (+18 imagines)

Kylian Mbappe

Celebrity crush

pt 2 (+18)

pt 3 (+18)

pt 4

pt 5 (+18)

Times like this

Paulo Dybala

Mañanas así

Alejandro Balde

Technique for success (+18)

Tired but horny (+18)

Campeones de la Liga (+18 imagines)

Golden (+18)

Last Night on Earth (+18)

Eric Garcia

What Pedri doesn't know won't hurt him (+18)

Frenkie De Jong

Date nights (+18)

NBA Brings You Closer to Your Friend's Gf + Pedri (+18)

Paradise (+18)

House of the Dragon

Aemond Targaryen

Aemond Targaryen x Strong! reader

Stranger Things

Steve Harrington

Steve Harrington x Hopper! reader

[wosohavemyheart]

TORNADA PT. 2

He vueltooo, os dejo aquí la continuación de esta.. vamos a llamarlo serie porque tengo otros dos capítulos hechos y seguramente surgan más, no lo se...

Disfrutad.

Parte 1

2 meses han pasado desde que Alexia volvió a pisar el césped, un par de días después volví a Mallorca. No nos habíamos visto desde entonces pero hablábamos a diario.

Le conté que había ido a ver varias veces a Paula y también le hablé de Alexandra pero no el porqué de estas visitas. No quería distraerla con mis cosas, tenía que ganar la Champions cosa que hizo y celebraron por todo lo alto.

Yo por otro lado me quedaba un partido que era decisivo para ganar la liga y firmé por dos años con el Barça.

En un mes me mudo a Barcelona junto con Ale así que quería aprovechar ahora que viene unos días para ayudarme con la mudanza a presentarle a Alexandra y decirle mi locura.

Ahora mismo estamos de camino al partido que tienen las chicas, como a Paula la han subido de categoría juega junto a Alexandra.

Llegamos justo a tiempo para ver cómo se alinean y se saludan, así que nos sentamos al lado de Marta.

-Hola- Saludamos

-Hola, ¿que tal el viaje, Alexia?

-Bien, cortito, Mallorca es increíble.

-Eso dicen todos los que vienen- Se ríen y entablan una conversación hasta que empieza el juego.

Ale pone su brazo encima de mis hombros.

-¿Paula es el 11?- Pregunta Ale

-Si, cariño y Alexandra el 10

Están todo el partido jugando sucio contra Paula al verla más pequeña piensan que es más débil, están metiendo piernas y cuerpo cuando no hay porque y el árbitro no dice nada.

-Y el árbitro este para que esta? - Dice Ale enfadada y se levanta- Pero mira coño, van a por ella a muerte.

-Siempre pasa lo mismo, piensan que con ella lo tienen fácil al ser más pequeña pero luego ven que no y se frustran y van más a por ella- Digo acostumbrada de verlo en partido si y partido también.

En ese momento una compañera le pasa el balón a Alex a la que le vienen dos rivales y como puede les regatea dejándolas a ambas en el suelo y enseguida se la pasa a Paula que se había desmarcado. Ella chuta y la portera rival no puede hacer nada.

-Vamoss- Me levanto a celebrarlo y abrazo a Ale.

-Son muy buenas, tienen buena técnica- Comenta Alexia- Destacan entre las otras

-Lo sé- Digo orgullosa

Nos volvemos a sentar y continuamos viendo el partido pero por detrás escucho como unas madres cuchicean.

-¿Has vista la niña esa? La 11?

-Si, no sé que hace aquí, esa tiene que estar con su categoría. Aquí se va a hacer daño siendo tan poca cosa

-En algún momento sale volando por querer jugar con los mayores- Se ríen

Me voy a girar para decirles de todo pero Ale me pone una mano en el muslo y se gira ella.

-Ahora se donde han salido vuestras hijas- Suelta Alexia.

-¿Perdón?- Dice la vieja rubia

-Digo que vuestras hijas son igual de groseras que vosotras, no se como podéis desearle el mal a alguien y menos a una niña pequeña- Pausa y veo como se callan, suelto una risita- Y para vuestra información la número 11 se llama Paula y juega con los mayores porque tiene más talento que todas, solo hay que ver cómo les está pateando el culo.

Dicho esto se gira para seguir viendo el partido y yo no puedo evitar reírme fuerte de las caras de las viejas.

Me acerco a su oído

-¿Te he dicho ya cuanto te quiero?

-Si, pero no me cansaré nunca de oírlo

-¿Y sabes lo que me pones cuando te pones en plan protectora?- Le doy un beso en el lóbulo y veo como se tensa.

Le beso la mejilla y me separo para seguir viendo el partido.

El partido finaliza 3-0 con los otros dos goles de Alex con asistencia de Paula.

Estábamos esperando a un lado del túnel a que salieran las chicas.

-T/n- Viene corriendo Paula y me abraza y detrás de ella veo que Alex viene también pero despacio, con cautela, mirándonos con desconfianza sobretodo a Ale- ¿Has visto esos goles?

-Sii- Digo eufórica mirándola- Ha sido increíble, habéis jugado genial- Fijo mi mirada en Alex ahora.

Detrás de ese muro que se ha construido veo un poco de emoción aunque intenta ocultarlo pero conmigo no lo consigue y le sonrío.

-Habéis jugado muy bien- Choca los cinco Ale con Paula y se gira a Alex- ¿Alexandra, verdad?- La niña asiente precavida- Tienes un pie izquierdo asombroso.

Asiente con recelo.

-Soy Alexia, por cierto- Mi novia sonrie cálidamente presentándose.

-Alexandra-

-Podemos ir a cenar algo para celebrar la victoria no?- Miro a Ale y a Marta que asienten con la cabeza y miro a las niñas.

-Siiiiiiii- Grita Paula y se gira hacia su amiga- Porfi porfi porfi Alex, nos lo pasaremos bien. Te lo prometo- Le suplica.

-Esta bien- Cede dándole una pequeña sonrisa que quita cuando ve que la miramos- ¿Qué mirais?- Se cruza de brazos.

Alexia niega con la cabeza y suelta una sonrisa.

-Creo que ella y yo nos llevaremos bien- Me susurra en el oído- Se parece demasiado a ti

El resto de la tarde pasa. Conocemos más a las chicas o por lo menos lo que nos dejan sobretodo Alex que sigue mirando todo con recelo y contestando a la mayoría de cosas con respuestas cortas.

Pero ahora de camino a dejarlas en el orfanato veo que Alexandra y Alexia están unos metros por delante de nosotras hablando animadamente.

-Parece que Alexia se la ha llevado al bolsillo- Comenta Marta.

-Tiene ese don, conmigo también lo consiguió y eso que me hacia la dura.

-Alex solo necesita un poco de cariño, seguridad y confianza- Suelta de repente Paula que estaba agarrada a mi mano- Yo no tengo recuerdos fuera de ese orfanato pero ella sí, ella a tenido una vida antes de eso y eso hace que le cueste confiar y abrirse a nuevas personas.

-Lo entiendo y no hay prisa, Paula. Conseguiremos que se sienta así- Le prometo- Ella y tú.

Después de despedirnos y dejar a las niñas Ale y yo volvimos a mi casa.

-Hola Thor- Acaricio a mi perro

-Que pasa grandullón, yo también te he echado mucho de menos

Me río al ver a mi novia y mi perro emocionados saludandose.

Cojo la correa para ir a pasearlo

-¿Vienes?-Le pregunto

-¿Contigo? Pffff... Al fin del mundo

-Eres un amor- Rodeo sus hombros y la beso.

Pasa sus brazos por mi cintura y pone las manos en mi culo mientras intensifica el beso pero cuando me quedo sin aire me separo.

-Na na, primero Thor.

-Tienes razón- Con un último beso me suelta pero entrelaza nuestras manos y salimos de la casa.

Paseamos disfrutando del silencio y de la compañia de la otra ya que no hemos podido tener todos los momentos así que hubiéramos querido en estos casi 4 años de relación.

-Echaba de menos estar así contigo- Pasa su brazo por mis hombros

-Y yo también

-Menos mal que esta es la última vez que vamos a estar separadas.

-Si, solo unos días más- Silbo para llamar a Thor y le tiro la pelota de tenis. -Vamos a los bancos esos.

Nos sentamos y la miro queriendo abrir la boca

-¿Qué pasa, cariño?- Me mira preocupada

Ahí va, sueltalo ya

-Quiero adoptarlas- Suelto rápida y jadea

Muy bien t/n, rápido y sin anestesia. Si no fuera porque estoy acojonada me estaría partiendo de risa con la cara de Alexia.

-¿Qué? ¿Adoptarlas? ¿En plural?- Abre la boca- Creo que cuando vaya a revisión médica le voy a decir que me miren la audición

-Has escuchado bien Ale, adoptarlas, a Paula y a Alexandra.

-Pero...

-Dejame terminar, luego me dices lo que piensas- La interrumpo- Se que es una locura. Voy a empezar una nueva etapa profesional y tú volviendo de tú lesión lo único que quieres es seguir jugando y centrarte en tú carrera. Pero cuando vi a Paula ese día y me enteré de una parte de su historia algo hizo que quisiera protegerla y que sintiera que tenía una familia. Luego está Alex, ambas podían haber sido adoptadas ¿sabes?- Le digo y niega con la cabeza.

-¿Si?

-Sí, solo que separadas y han hecho hasta lo imposible para que las volvieran a juntar y no voy a ser yo quien las vaya a separar ahora. Alexandra me transmite tanto sin decirme nada... ¿Sabes? Desde el momento en el que te ha visto la has impactado como con Paula la primera vez. No se esperaba que su ídola apareciera ahí y mucho menos de una manera tan mundana, pero no lo ha demostrado.

-Es muy buena, entonces- Suelta una risa.

-Cuando la conozcas un poco más te darás cuanta de que es pura fachada y que se muere por un poco de amor y atención.

-Estoy segura de ello- Me mira con adoración.

-Pero al caso, no quiero que te sientas presionada ni nada de eso, somos dos en esta relación y si no quieres voy a entenderlo. Puede que me haya precipitado un poco- Le cojo la mano y se la aprieto encogiéndome de hombros- Alomejor no es tu momento de formar una familia o alomejor no quieres formarla o no conmigo... Pero lo entenderé

-Ey, para el carro- Me da un apretón y pone su otra mano en mi mejilla- Claro que quiero formar una familia contigo, mi amor, quiero hacer cualquier cosa contigo- Pausa- Y sí, puede que me haya venido esto de sorpresa y que sea un poco precipitado- Se ríe y me seca las lágrimas- pero quiero hacerlo, me enamoré de lo poco que conocí ese día a Paula y ahora que he estado con ella más y Alex... Creo que podría tener una buena conexión con ella.

-Lo he notado- La abrazo fuerte y me acurruco en su cuello- Vas a ser una buena mamá.

-Tanto como tu seguro que no- Me besa la frente.

Nos quedamos así en silencio mientras Thor juega en el césped.

No pude dormir mucho esa noche y llamé pronto a Marta. Le comenté lo que hablé con Alexia y me dijo que se iba a poner con los papeles para que la adopción sea cuanto antes pero faltaba una parte importante, hablar con las niñas.

Y en eso estamos, esperando a que vengan las niñas al patio.

Y de pronto todos los niños que habían ya alrededor empezaron a murmurar.

-Esa no es Alexia Putellas?-Dice uno

Ale llevaba una gorra así que se camuflaba un poco pero es imposible con 40 miradas encima.

-¿Quién?- Pregunta otro

-Ahhh si, esa que a ganado dos balones de oro- Dice otra niña

-Creo que me suena de la tele.

Ale se acerca demasiado a mi para susurrarme

-Me siento un poco observada.

Pero antes de que pueda decir nada veo a alguien correr y estrellarse contra mis piernas. Paula.

-Hola, cariño.-La saludo dándole un beso en la mejilla.

-Hola t/n- Se separa y abraza a Alexia que me mira con sorpresa pero le corresponde.- Hola Alexia.

-Hola pequeña, ¿cómo estás?

-Bieen, ¿vamos a ir otra vez de paseo?- Pregunta ilusionada.

-Podemos ir- Le revuelve el pelo y hace un puchero.

-¿Esas están interesadas en las antisociales esas?- Escuchamos que dice una y enseguida a Paula se le cambia la cara.

-¿Pero quien las va a querer? - Dice otra.

Veo que Alexandra aparece. Ha escuchado todo y veo como esta apretando los puños lista para abalanzarse.

-Quieta ahí, señorita- Me pongo enfrente y hago que me mire- Te dejaría que le pegaras dos hostias bien dadas pero queremos salir con vosotras y si te castigan eso no va a ser posible.

Me mira y luego mira a Paula y Ale que se habían acercado.

-Sí- Alexia pone una mano en su hombro para tranquilizarla y parece que surge efecto ya que destensa las manos- ¿Os apetece un helado? Luego podemos ir al parque a jugar o lo que queráis un rato.

-Si, porque luego tengo el último partido de la temporada

-Vamos a ir a verlo ¿verdad? - Le pregunta Paula impaciente a Ale.

-Si, quiero ver cómo les pateas el culo al Villarreal.

-Me haría mucha ilusión que vengáis-Les sonrío y Ale pasa un brazo por mis hombros.

-Venga, vámonos que no nos dará tiempo a todo.

Íbamos hablando de lo que estaban haciendo estos últimos días en el cole de camino a la heladería.

Una vez tuvimos los helados nos sentamos en una mesa y asentí con la cabeza a Alexia.

-Chicas, tenemos que deciros algo importante- Comienzo.

-Ayer, T/n y yo estuvimos hablando...

-Os habéis cansado de mi ¿no? De nosotras. Y por eso ahora os vais a ir, no vais a volver.- Habla Alex y es la primera vez que la veo con los ojos llorosos- He escuchado que te vas a Barcelona, sabia que no podía ser tan bonito- Habla mirándome fijamente y se quita una lágrima con rabia.

-¿Qué? ¿De que estas hablando Alex?- Se gira a mirarme la pequeña- ¿Eso es verdad?

-Primero de todo-Agarro la mano de Alex aunque se rehúsa un poco- Alexandra, no me he cansado de ti y no me voy a cansar nunca de vosotras- Digo sería mirandolas

-Ni yo tampoco- Interviene Ale agarrando la mano de ambas niñas- Os he conocido hace poco pero ya tenéis una parte de mi con vosotras y siempre voy a estar cuando me necesitéis.

Joder. Me he enamorado más de ella y no lo creía posible.

-Y sí, es verdad que me voy a Barcelona, me ha fichado el Barça. Sois las primeras en saberlo.

-¿ENSERIO? Eso es genial, t/n- Dice emocionada Paula.

-Si que lo es- Ale sonrie orgullosa.

-Queremos que vengáis con nosotras- Les digo.

-¿Qué?- Dicen ambas a la vez.

-Queremos adoptaros- Dice Ale- Si vosotras estais de acuerdo- Añade nerviosa

-¿Adoptarnos? ¿A las dos juntas?- Dice la mayor.

-Juntas- Afirmo.

Paula y Alexandra se miran sin decir nada durante un minuto y luego nos miran.

-Vale- Dicen

-¿Si? -Me levanto emocionada de la silla y empiezo a esparcir besos a las 3- Siiii

-Entre nosotras y yo- Hace como que les cuenta un secreto a las niñas pero la oigo- Esta un poquito loca, así que os podéis ir acostumbrando pronto- Las niñas se ríen cuando le doy un golpe en la nuca

-Estoy loca si, pero así me quieres y lo que te queda por aguantar- La beso sentándome en sus piernas-

-También es un poco bipolar - Les susurra y intento levantarme pero me agarra fuerte de la cintura- Así te quiero

-Y yo te quiero a ti- Me giro a las niñas, Paula tenía una sonrisa boba mirándonos y Alex aunque lo intentara ocultar tenía una mirada soñadora- Queremos que os sintais en familia, queridas y protegidas con nosotras y enserio no tenéis la obligación de llamarnos mamás por adoptaros, es algo que sale solo y si no sale nunca también estará bien.

-Gracias por todo- Dice la mayor mirándome- A las dos- Gira a la capitana.

-No es nada- Mira el reloj la catalana y abre los ojos- Hay que irse, cariño. Tienes un partido que ganar.

POV ALEXIA

Estábamos en las gradas del campo de fútbol. Habían unas 500 personas alrededor, la mayoría apoyando al equipo mallorquín.

-Woah. Hay mucha gente con pancartas de t/n

-Es la mejor, hace magia con el balón-Dice la menor- Ojalá llegar un día a ser como ella-Susurra

-Pensaba que yo era la favorita de las dos- Hago como que me ha dolido

-Ella no lo sabe, se piensa que eres tú. Pero ella es increíble.

-Pienso lo mismo, te guardaré el secreto- Le guiño un ojo

Me da una media sonrisa y se gira a mirar el partido.

-La mayoría de esa gente han visto crecer a T/n y la han ayudado cuando era pequeña- Comento señalando un grupo de 15 personas todos con camisetas de ella.

-¿Qué quieres decir con esto?- Pregunta la menor

-Ella tampoco lo tuvo fácil cuando era pequeña y se merece todo lo mejor al igual que vosotras- Les sonrío un poco triste.

-Ella es una buena persona- Dice la número 10.

Sonrío de acuerdo y ya lo próximo es ver el partido y comentar todo lo que sucede.

-Alexia- Me llama Alex

-Mmmh? - La miro

-Ver contigo un partido es diferente- Comenta- Siempre tienes algo que aportar para ajustar, te adelantas a lo que puede pasar, ves cosas que otros no ven...

Me sonrojo sin decir nada

-Si, es increíble. Ver contigo un partido es muy guay- Dice ahora la otra.

-Bueno, vosotras también habéis visto cosas que no todos llegan a ver. Tenéis una muy buena visión de juego y eso lo lleváis dentro- Halago porque de verdad que siendo tan pequeñas me ha impresionado las cosas que han comentando.

-¿Has pensado en ser entrenadora cuando te retires?- Dice Alexandra

-Vaya, me estas llamando vieja?- Digo divertida y ella niega eufórica

-No, no, no, eres Alexia Putellas por favor- Dice escandalizada y me río de su cara

-Era broma- Informo y veo que respira más tranquilamente- Pero si, cuando me jubile, que espero que sea de aquí a muchos años, no pienso dejar el fútbol así que entrenadora es una buena opción.

-Hagas lo que hagas lo harás genial- Dice Paula y sonrío tiernamente.

-Gracias pequeña

El partido al final terminó 2-0 con ambos goles de mi novia.

Bajamos al campo y viene corriendo hacia nosotras con su medalla colgada.

-¿Habéis visto eso?- Dice toda emocionada

Paula la abraza primero, después Alex y por última yo.

-Han sido dos golazos, nena- Digo orgullosa.

-Sisi, ese caño de tacón y luego el chute a sido impresionante

-Y y ese regate de las 4 defensas para luego marcar- Dice exaltada Alex- Puffff

-Increíble, nena- La beso orgullosa de ella.

Viene la fotógrafa y nos pregunta si queremos fotos y T/n le dice enseguida que si.

Primero ella sola después conmigo y luego ella con las niñas

-Ven Ale- Me llama Paula y me acerco.

Me pongo al lado de T/n rodeando su cintura y ella mi cuello con una mano luego la otra mano la pone encima del hombro de Paula y yo en la de Alex, la copa está frente a las niñas que con sus manos la tocan y la medalla la tiene Pau en el cuello.

Desde ese momento se volvió una de mis fotos favoritas y también de T/n porqué nos la pusimos de fondo de pantalla.

[masonmyluv]

Part 1

A/N: I really hope you will all like this story. It’s my first pretty long story (it will have around 10 parts, so stay tuned ;) ) that I’m posting here. You can also find the story on my wattpad account (username: tmrxlover_writer).

Pictures are from Pinterest, the filter is Cinnamon on Polarr.

Warnings: none

︵✦⋆₊°˖︵‿₊

Another day at Uni after he just scored his first La Liga goal . He was buzzing, but had to be on time for classes. He was sure the whole university will congratulate him. Being famous was difficult when you just wanted to be a normal student.

"Our boy Fermin is back!"

You looked up from your notes to see Fermin being congratulated by the whole class. People hugging him, patting him on the back. "Thanks man" he kept saying, trying to make his way to his place. He just wanted the class to begin so everyone could leave him alone. "Hey" he said, sitting next to you. "Hi" you replied quietly. Being the shy nerdy girl was bad enough when you were sitting near the hot athletic guy. You asked yourself multiple times why did he choose to sit near you in the first year. There were a lot of empty places, but he chose the second row in the front, exactly near you. "Anything that I missed?" He asked, looking at your notes. He always admired your beautiful handwriting and how organised you were, so he knew where to choose to sit at your first class together. Surely not the guy with only a piece of paper and a pen, but rather the girl surrounded by books, coloured pencils and a cup of coffee. He didn't have the balls to ask you to get coffee in the morning, even though he wasn't drinking it, he would offer to come along with you.

"Erm...not really. We talked about more practical stuff. I made some notes if you want to take a picture or something" you offered shyly. You never ever gave your notes to anyone because they were just some lazy asses who didn't care about anything, but you were here to learn. You wanted to be a physiotherapist. They were here just to get a diploma. Not Fermin though. He was passionate about the subject, even though he missed a lot of classes because of his packed schedule. You were willing to help him because he showed interest. And appreciated your work too.

"Thanks. Actually I had an idea, I mean a proposal" he said. "I'm quite behind with everything, so I was wondering if you'd like to meet somewhere and help me catch up? It's okay if you don't want to" he said nervously. Why the heck was he nervous? He scored his first goal in freaking La Liga and was nervous talking to a girl he's seen almost every day in 3 years. You thought about his idea, you wanted to help him, but you weren't the person to meet up in random places to study. You liked the confined space of your room and desk, and maybe the library or the coffee shop, when you had to do computer work.

"I don't want to sound... uhh... like I'm inviting myself" he said blushing as if reading your mind. "But I can come to your place, if that's okay with you". "I... uhh" you rambled on, but the professor was already in class, ready to read one of his boring presentations for 2 hours. You barely paid attention to what he was saying, debating whether to accept Fermin's idea or not, while drawing random patterns on your copybook. Fermin noticed you zooming out so he scribbled something down on his own copybook. He nudged you so you could read what he wrote.

It's okay. It was just an idea :)

You shook your head, writing under his: we talk after the class.

For the rest of the class, you took notes, while Fermin tried paying attention, but his mind kept drifting off somewhere else. What if he overstepped with all this I-can-come-to-your-place-to-study thing and you would think he's weird? He face palmed himself for that, but you were his only hope to pass the exams this semester. The professor finally ended the class and you started packing your bag. Neither of you spoke until you were out of the class.

"Listen I—"

"It's okay if—"

You both stopped mid sentence and chuckled. "You first" he encouraged. "So, I think it's okay for you to come. I live alone anyway. Just tell me when it's okay with you". Fermin couldn't believe what he was hearing. You never ever invited someone over and he could respect that it was your safe place and he didn't want to intrude. "Are you sure it's okay?" He asked and you nodded. "Okay, let me see. Actually I'll text you the day before because I'll have some recovery trainings and I'll be free to come" he said. "I know it's difficult to put up with me" he chuckled nervously. "It's okay. It's not like I'm a party animal or anything" you said. "Okay... I'll let you know soon. Bye. And thank you" he said, climbing into his car. He thought of offering you a car ride, but maybe it was too much overstepping in one day, so he just waved at you and you waved back to him.

When you arrived home, you thought about this day. What the heck was today? Of course you gave him your notes pretty often, but him to come here to study? That was a whole new level.

︵✦⋆₊°˖︵‿₊

Hope you like it 🤍

Feedback is appreciated 😊

[redhairedwolfwitch]

Away From Her Goalie - Clàudia Pina x Reader

A/n: next part in the Score A Goalie universe... enjoy! next one will take a while, it requires research:)

///

The UWCL final in Eindhoven was here. Barcelona versus Wolfsburg. Clàudia on the pitch, you watching from the stands. You hadn’t felt so anxious about a match since the Copa De La Reina final, Atleti against Real Madrid, a match that went from 2-0 up to Real Madrid to Atleti bringing it to 2-2, through extra time and into penalties. Atleti came out on top and you were unashamed to admit that you had shed tears of joy over Atleti’s victory.

You had spent your time after the league finished organising the stuff you had brought to Barcelona back in January, trying to fit what you needed for your plans after the final.

Both sets of plans, as Clàudia planned to help you with your move, before the two of you went on a small holiday to serve as a break for you before you were thrown into training for the NWSL with NJ/NY Gotham FC, a club in need of a strong goalie to maintain their position at number 1 in the table.

It was hard, but you no longer had your apartment in Madrid, moving your things into storage that you did want to keep, but selling a lot. Clàudia was keeping some of your stuff for your return to Barcelona, the plans being after the NWSL season was done in November, you would be able to visit whilst Atleti and Gotham sorted out the post-NWSL training you could do before the winter transfer window in January.

But your career wasn’t the focus right now, as you sat in the stands of the Philips Stadium, in Eindhoven, waiting. Pina was on the bench but the stadium energy was electric.

Wolfsburg may have scored two goals first, but you couldn’t help but think about the Copa De La Reina final, Atleti were two goals down before bringing it up to 2-2, taking it to penalties after extra time where Atleti won.

You did not want it to go to penalties.

The second half was different and you could feel it, Patri sending the ball into the net to take it to 2-1, then two minutes later, Patri sent the ball in again, the score going to 2-2. Rolfö eventually making it 3-2 but later shots were going wide.

Pina was finally subbed on for Mariona in the 79th minute, while Ana was subbed on for Caro at the same time.

You grimaced as Wilms fouled Pina, but it wasn’t long after that Wilms was subbed off. A clash between Bronze and Popp had all the attention on the sidelines however, as Ingrid and Alexia prepared to be subbed onto the pitch at the 89th minute. 7 minutes of stoppage time were added, your stomach twisting as you leaned forwards in your seat, watching carefully.

Popp and Paredes ended up with yellow cards after a collision almost looked like it would turn into a fight on the pitch, Alexia and Ingrid having been subbed on minutes before the seven minutes of stoppage time arrived. Tackles flew in with players dropping like flies and you couldn’t stop grimacing.

Eventually the minutes ran out, Barcelona being crowned champions of Europe as Queen’s We Are The Champions played across the stadium, the team swaying and Pina rocking the trophy like it was a baby.

She spotted you in the stands, grinning and waving as you waved back, jumping up and down in celebration.

///

The UWCL final was a flashbulb memory in your mind, and your fiancee’s as you sorted out your suitcases, the flight across the Atlantic amounting to more than 8 hours in the air, with Patri driving you two to the Barcelona airport.

“I will miss you, but I will miss your pancakes more.” Patri declared as she watched you travel with double the amount of suitcases as Pina, but the reasoning made sense.

You were moving countries for your career, your fiancee was helping you settle in first, but you were allowed a break before going head on into the NWSL.

A break that you were spending with Pina, visiting someone you hadn’t seen in almost a year. Jenni Hermoso, who currently resides in Mexico to play for Pachuca in the Liga MX Femenil.

Arriving at JFK airport, Pina pulled up her hood, whilst you dug through your backpack, eventually finding a pair of sunglasses and putting them on to obscure your face.

“Where do we go?”

“I was emailed instructions… we need to get the subway to…” you paused, looking between your suitcases, to your large backpack balanced on one of them, to Pina’s luggage, “we’re taking suitcases on the subway… great start.”

“So we go from central station and get a connecting train to New Jersey…” You went over the instructions, passing Pina your sunglasses as you found your hat, almost amused at the Atleti logo on it but you were pretty sure someone had recognised you both whilst on the subway already.

///

“This should be it. The club arranged something close to the subway so I could get around without a car.” You explained, putting the key in the lock and almost celebrating when it turned and opened the door.

Wheeling all the suitcases inside, you headed over to the windows as you heard your fiancee speak, “es pequeño,” as she locked the door behind you both.

“Un poco,” agreeing with her, but it was a studio apartment with a tiny kitchen and windows that let in a lot of natural light, the view of the city presenting the hustle and bustle of New Jersey as you gazed out at the busy road full of cars.

“It feels very… New York, New Jersey… I don’t see a bat signal though.” You joked, peeking through the blinds like you were looking for a way to summon Batman.

“Gotham.” Pina rolled her eyes playfully as she snickered at your joke, walking over to the window to have a look.

“Suppose I should unpack something. Can’t leave it all until I’m back from Mexico and you’re on a flight… back to Barcelona.” Meeting your fiancee’s sad gaze, you held back your emotions as she reached for your hand.

“What am I doing? Moving nearly forty thousand miles away from you for a few months in the hopes my goalkeeper career isn’t just sitting on a bench until I retire then get stuck trying to become a goalkeeper coach? I’m sorry, you deserve better.”

“No. I deserve you. We deserve each other, and we both deserve play time, but I want you too.” Pina declared, her hand cupping your cheek as your face softened from where it was scrunched up in sadness, trying to hold the tears back.

“I want you too, and I want to play minutes. You are the only person who has put me first in a long time. You’re it for me, mi vida, our souls are together, even when our bodies are so far apart. I want to come back to you, marry you, and never leave you again, unless you don’t want that-”

“I choose you, remember? And our bodies are not apart yet.” Pina smirked, leaning in to press her lips against yours, before pulling away as you smiled.

“You’re right. In fact, I think our bodies could be a little closer.”

///

It took a little while to get your stuff unpacked, the two of you heading back out to travel from Hoboken and ending up in Greenwich Village, Lower Manhattan.

“I’m sorry you’re missing Ibiza this year.” You apologised over dinner/lunch (the timezone difference threw you two off), but your fiancee shook her head, pointing out that she was getting to spend time with her fiancee, in a new city before heading to another new city for a few days and seeing Jenni again after so long.

“I missed you in New York last winter.” Pina rationalised, smiling at you, before avoiding eye contact with whoever was behind you as the two of you were recognised.

“When do Atleti and Gotham announce your loan? People are recognising us from Barcelona.”

///

The flight to Mexico was nowhere near as long as the Transatlantic flight from Barcelona, the two of you bringing a lot less luggage too as you both looked to find Jenni and whoever she had brought with her to pick you both up from arrivals.

“¡Hola mis bebés!” Jenni cheered, pulling you both into a hug when she spotted the two of you approaching.

///

Your time in Mexico came and went, revealing the engagement to Jenni and how you were going to be on loan to NJ/NY Gotham until the end of the 2023 NWSL season. Jenni’s reaction included how you did not ask for her blessing, before she was congratulating you both and hugging you for taking a big step in your goalkeeping career.

Now you were staring out of your tiny studio apartment’s windows, watching the sun rise and trying to hype yourself up on your first day with Gotham.

///

Atleti and Gotham posted their posts first. Atleti revealed you had been sent on loan to NJ/NY Gotham for the rest of the 2023 NWSL season with good luck.

Gotham was a little more excited for you, using a photo array of shadows to tease your arrival, the shadows even resembled Batman before the final reveal of you in the Gotham goalie kit, the shadows made to look like the Bat Signal through the use of the spotlights during the photography session.

You were the next one to post, announcing your loan with a repost of the photo of you in the Gotham kit, with Bat Signal shining onto the dark background behind you, followed by photos of New York and New Jersey you had saved from when you and Pina were exploring around the two states.

Your previous posts consisted of photos of you and Pina hanging out with Jenni in Mexico, throwing people off online who thought everyone would be going to Ibiza, whilst leaving fans speculating as your engagement rings were spotted in one of the photos.

‘Sorry I’m not Batman, but I’m here to protect Gotham.’ Your caption was cheesy, especially with the bat emojis that Pina copied into her comment, along with a heart and flame emoji reminding you of the early days in your relationship.

///

[batlleonafc]

She’s a scab. She only cares about herself and what she can personally gain. She let her “friends” take the fall more than once now so she could get a world cup and continue to push that she’s the best player in the world when in reality she played like absolute dog shit and really that second ballon dor shouldn’t have gone to her in the 1st place. She’s just trying to stay relevant sorry that I’m giving you guys the truth 🤷‍♀️

Welcome to @handmeascalpel's ted talk, I'm your host @batlleonafc buckle up and enjoy the ride

Hello, anon. I've read everything you've mentioned. Do you have any evidence to support your claims? Considering that I'm reading this now, you don't. So, let me present the evidence I have. If you understand after this, great. If not, I can't stop people from forming their own opinions.

Exhibit A:

You said, "she only cares about herself and what she can personally gain."

On September 1, 2022, Alexia tweeted in support of Irene Paredes when the RFEF essentially blamed her for the players' opposition to the federation. Alexia was injured at the time and wasn't even in camp or eligible for a call-up. She was the first to tweet, sparking the revolution against the RFEF.

Ironically, on September 23 of the same year, exactly one year ago, Alexia was the first to post the Las15 statement, stating that the players wanted a "firm commitment for a professional project" and expressing their unhappiness that private conversations with the federation were leaked.

Exhibit B:

You said, "she let her friends take the fall more than once so she could get a World Cup."

As I mentioned earlier, Alexia was injured and therefore ineligible for a call-up. So her statement and email were never considered valid.

Every statement has always been posted by her first because she has a large following. She has consistently spoken out loudly and clearly about the problems. She never let friends take any fall. More proof is attached below.

She went to the World Cup because she was fit and couldn't escape sanctions, in case you forgot about them. I'd like you to tell me how many players who came back from an ACL injury immediately played well, or maybe just give me some names.

#seacabo was started by Alexia, and she took the lead for everything. It's not hard to find this evidence. Regardless of what people like you want to say about her, both on and off the pitch, you can see what kind of person she is.

Exhibit C:

You say, "that second Ballon d'Or shouldn't have gone to her in the first place."

Who do you think should have won it then? I'd be happy to hear your answer.

But since you brought up the Ballon d'Or, let me share a few things:

Official stats from the 2021/22 season:

La Liga Femenina:

- 26 games played.

- 18 goals scored.

- 16 assists.

Copa de la Reina:

- 4 games played.

- 4 goals scored.

- 1 assist.

Supercopa de España:

- 2 games played.

- 1 goal scored.

- 1 assist.

UEFA Women's Champions League (UWCL):

- 10 games played.

- 11 goals scored.

- 3 assists.

Regarding the Ballon d'Or voting, she only missed out on 29 days, equivalent to one tournament (the Euros). Nobody came close to her stats, and she's a midfielder. These stats are only for her club. Her national team stats are just as impressive, as she has been crucial in every single match, not just easy ones. She essentially surpassed her own record from the previous season when she won the Ballon d'Or. In short, she deserved it.

There's more to a player than just stats, especially for defenders. But the stats Alexia has as a midfielder are outstanding.

Exhibit D:

Finally, you said, "she's just trying to stay relevant." Sorry to say, but she doesn't have to say anything to stay relevant.

She uses her influential platform to talk about what's true and important, unlike many players. Ramona Bachmann is a good example, and even Athenea, for that matter.

I hope you've learned something today, anon. If not, good luck with your opinion of Alexia. You might just look foolish for hating on her.

Thank you for listening to @handmeascalpel's ted talk I hope you learned something today!

[mysticfalls01]

Time

(Williamson!reader)

The Wonder Twins Universe

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

You had your debut two weeks after arriving to the team, you played in a friendly against Atletico during the preseason. You entered the pitch as a sub for the second half and your impact was immediate. Jonatan saw the way you orchestrated the midfield, your communication with both the defenders and the strikers and how everything went smoothly. The game ended 5-0 with you being player of the match as you contributed with 2 assists, and you had participated in the building of a third goal.

Not only your impact in the team was noticeable but also the impact of joining Barcelona was noticeable. You started learning Spanish to speak with the staff, your teammates and with the fans, you also started to gain more muscle as training in Barcelona was more rigorous than with Arsenal. You felt as if you had been playing in Barcelona for years.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Before you knew it you already had been in Barcelona for a month and a half. You loved everything in Barcelona, the city, the warm weather, the staff, and your teammates.

You thought that joining such a united team it would have been difficult to be accepted and to join into the team’s dynamics however, it has been the opposite.

You could say that Mapi has become your closest friend in Barcelona, she made sure to make your adaptation easier and Ingrid became your confidant and the person with whom you went for advice as she understood perfectly what you were going through, being a foreigner joining Barcelona. Patri and Claudia became your annoying little sisters while with Jana and Bruna you felt the necessity of protecting them and teaching them everything you could, you were sure that those two would become superstars.

Having other British teammates joining at the same time as you have made everything better, you had a piece of home in Barcelona thanks to them.

Finally, Alexia. The chemistry you had her was undeniably, you made her laugh with your clumsiness and with the stories you told her about your adventures with Leah when you were younger and she made your heartbeat faster, you love the passion she has about the game for either the club or her national team. You couldn’t stop thinking about the Catalan and you couldn’t wait for her to be on the pitch again.

The only negative part of joining Barcelona was being separated from your family, specially from your twin. You talked with Leah every time it was possible, you missed being with her almost 24/7. Being separated from her while it gave you a sense of independence it was also the worst feeling ever.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Being in Liga F has taught about a new playing style, your skills have only gotten better and it was noticed by Sarina so it wasn’t a surprise when you were announced as part of the squad for the international break and that’s how you found yourself in the locker room after the last practice before the break saying goodbye to some of your teammates.

“Mapi! Don’t do anything to crazy while I’m gone!”

“Me?!? y/nn I don’t why would you say that” Mapi said with a fake innocent voice.

“You are right Mapi. How could I say that? You are an angel” you said smiling with a sarcastic voice.

You picked up your things before approaching Mapi, hugging her and whispering. “Mapi, if there’s something bothering you, and I mean anything at all you about the coach from your national team remember that I’m one call away.”

“Thank you y/nn, I can’t stand anymore Vilda and his staff. I don’t know what to do, I want to stay strong for the younger ones” she whispered back to you.

“Remember Mapi, one call away” you whispered back before separating.

“Good luck with Norway Ingrid!” you said while giving her a quick hug.

“You to y/nn! I hope everything goes well with the Lionesses”

After saying goodbye to more teammates, you went looking for Alexia who should be finishing her physiotherapy session. You were waiting outside the physiotherapy room when she came out.

“Ale! I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye to you” you said looking directly to her eyes and giving her a soft smile.

She approached you and hugged you.

“If you couldn’t say goodbye I would have understood. Our schedules are hectic.”

“Ale, I had to say goodbye. I wouldn’t have been comfortable without it.”

You guys kept hugging until you heard Lucy “Williamson! We need to go! Are you ready?!”

You separated from Alexia and turned around towards Lucy yelled “Yeah Lucy! Just give me two more minutes!”

Lucy realized that you and Alexia were having a moment, before leaving she said “Two minutes Williamson!”

You turned around back to Alexia and said “Ale I know that I will only be gone for like 10 days, but I’ll miss you”

“I’ll miss you to y/n, good luck for your games y/nn, I’ll make sure to watch every single match. You better return to me, I mean Barcelona in one piece, I would hate for you to join me and the physios.”

“Don’t worry Ale, I’ll take care of my myself” you told her smiling.

Before leaving and turning around you gave her a kiss in the cheek close to her mouth.

If you had turned around to see her reaction, you would’ve seen her really red face and how her fingers here softly caressing the exact spot of the kiss.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

St George's Park, you really had missed that place.

You, Lucy and Keira were just arriving to the place. You couldn’t wait to see your teammates again but the person you wanted to see the most was Leah.

As soon as you guys left the van you were greeted by the media team. After you waved and greeted the camera you entered the lobby.

Before you could even greet some teammates and Sarina a body had tackled you. You immediately recognized her blonde hair and hugged her.

“Look! The Wonder Twins are finally reunited” Tooney said.

After her words everyone turned their attention towards you and your twin.

Everyone could see that was an emotional exchange, they couldn’t imagine how you guys felt.

Finally, Leah and you separated and you greeted everyone.

After greeting everyone Leah hugged you again “I’ve missed you so much sis”

“I missed you too Lee, there’s so much that I need to tell you. There might be someone special in Barcelona” you whispered.

You guys separated and she smiled at you before she could talk Rachel’s voice interrupted her.

“Oi! y/nn what are they feeding you with in Barcelona. You have more muscles than you did before and only in a period of two months!” 

After hearing that you couldn’t help but to laugh.

You couldn’t wait to play to play again with your sister.  After all you guys are The Wonder Twins.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Thank you to everyone! The love recieved by part three was amazing.

If there is anything that you guys would like to see please comment it!

[dawkacynizmu]

miszmasz post

1. tak mi wysypało twarz że już nawet w lustro nie patrze bo bym się odwodniła od płaczu za każdym razem na ten widok.

2. zaczęłam zimą oglądać criminal minds po angielsku nawet nie z wyboru po prostu ten serial ciężko znaleźć po polsku, po kilku odcinkach uznałam jednak że to nie moja liga, nie lubię być w 100% skupiona na serialu lubię czasem robić coś w tle a oglądając po ang bez przerwy musiałam na napisy patrzeć. znalazłam wersję z lektorem, ostatnio jednak z ciekawości włączyłam po ang i idzie bez problemu, 3 całe sezony tak obejrzałam

3. znowu mi coś w pachwinie jebło tym razem w prawej

4. szukam medytacji prowadzonej na stres i wewnętrzny spokój bo mnie rozpierdala od środka ostatnio

5. nie mam nic więcej do powiedzenia ale lubię ładne liczby

[gavisuntiedboot]

Just Pretend (Gavi x reader)

Part 1

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Epilogue

Tinder is not a great place to look for boyfriends, but neither is the workplace.

Gavi x Physiotherapist! reader. Slow burn. I can't make things fast he's gotta work for it. Smut? Not in this part but maybe eventually.

A/N: Hi everyone! Not super new on Tumblr but I have never been brave enough to post a fic despite my constant maladaptive daydreaming about imaginary scenarios. The stress of being sick and not wanting to write my personal statement have lead me to actually write this and post it online. Please be nice, hope you enjoy!

Song inspo: Just Pretend - Bad omens

Writing inspo: Plot inspired by @zeegaazeegaah and their amazing Gavi x physiotherapist imagine. Other inspirational accounts will be tagged at the end.

TW: None

Word count: 4.8K

"So what do you do?"

y/n hated this question. Even being asked for nudes might be preferable to being asked about her job. y/n had been on 12 first dates since moving back to Barcelona, and without fail every one of them had been ruined by this simple question. She considered lying - she could pass as a student or a waitress or even a model (ok maybe not a model): there were literally thousands of jobs she could pretend to have. But, being the idiot hopeless romantic that she was, she decided to be honest with the man across from her. What if Thiago from Tinder was her soulmate? She didn't want to ruin it by lying.

"I'm finishing my sports medicine and physiotherapy certification, so I am working with one of the football clubs here to do practical training and gain experience."

"Oh that's cool! Which club? You can tell me, I know most of the 3rd and 4th tier Catalan clubs, so I'll probably know it even if it's really small."

Wow. Thiago from Tinder was an overachiever: he messed up before she even said which club she worked for, which was faster than every other man she had been out with in the last four months. y/n took a deep breath and resisted the urge to leave before confessing where she worked.

"I actually work at a pretty well known club... F.C Barca. I think you might of heard of it?" y/n watched this man's jaw visibly drop. His eyes got wide and lit up, like someone had told him he had just won a brand new car.

"You're a physio at Barca?? No way! That's my team! I think I would actually commit manslaughter if Pedri asked me to. So you get to see all the players every day? And Xavi! Have you ever spoken to Xavi? Do you know he won Spain their first world cup? You might be too young to remember. That's so amazing!"

y/n felt all the muscles in her head tense as she focused all her energy on not rolling her eyes. A fanboy. Typical. This was the most common response she got when she said her place of work out loud. 6 of the last 12 first dates had been major fanboys for the club, talking endlessly about how they would steal and kill and get on their knees for Barca. One had even been so bold as to ask if she had ever seen Lewandosky naked, to confirm if some measurements he had seen online were true. While the fans were annoying, the haters were even worse. 4 different dates had said they felt bad that she worked at a "dying club", throwing up football statistics, and going red in the face when she said she could not possibly care less about who had more Champion's League wins.

Then there were those that went out of their way to offend her. You would think that a man trying to get laid would have some more common sense. But that didn't stop one of her tinder matches from calling her a liar in the middle of a restaurant. He was still on his first glass of wine, leaning back cockily in his chair when he said that La Liga would never allow female physios to work with the first team because women couldn't "handle the intensity of football injuries." She should have gotten up and left when he said that, but he was 6'3 with a brand new Porsche, so she let him buy her dinner and drive her home before telling him that she genuinely hoped he never interacted with a female doctor ever again, even if it was to save his life.

The worst had been when she went out with Jose. He had invited her to a pretty expensive spot in central Barcelona. They were having an amazing conversation until the fated job question. She had downed a good amount of wine at that point, and wasn't as cynical about the reaction as she usually would be, so she spoke about her role with pride. Big mistake. He perked up, then threw his head back and laughed. He laughed so loudly it startled the waiter clearing plates from the nearby table. "21 years old and working as a physio for F.C Barca... Who did you have to sleep with to get that job, hm? Xavi? La Porte himself? Or maybe someone at the university? Regardless, you must fuck like a pornstar to have landed a job like that. Can't wait to try it first hand." y/n said some choice words about Jose and his micropenis, and promptly left, seeking to avoid assault charges that night.

The truth was that y/n was extremely talented at what she did. She grew up watching football with her father and brother, developing an interest in working in sports professionally. She worked herself half to death during high school to be accepted into a sports science program in the U.S. She interned with the college teams there, learning about sports injuries and treating them. She finished her program in three years, and despite programs across Europe fighting for her, she came back to Barcelona to finish her physiotherapy certification. She would be lying if she said it was just for her family and friends. The program in Barcelona advertised opportunities to work with F.C. Barca, her favorite football club since birth. It was a love she inherited from her father, as shown by all her childhood pictures in the Blaugrana uniform.

The program was harder than expected. She was one of 7 female first year students, and the only girl in her year that wanted to work with the first team. y/n was made aware that this might work to her advantage now that professional football was pushing for more female representation (in referees, coaching staff, and now on the medical team). The guys in her class either hated her guts or wanted to sleep with her (sometimes both) - it really was like legally blonde without the law.

In the middle of August, close to the beginning of the new season, all the applicants for the Barca placement were called into the university on a Sunday. Their professor introduced Dr. Gonzales, the head physiotherapist for the club. y/n started to sweat despite the air conditioning hitting her directly. She was terrified to even breathe wrong in the presence of this man.

"It's a pleasure to be here with you all today. Thank you for your hard work in submitting to fill the assistant physiotherapist position at F.C. Barcelona. Now, there have been rumors that we are hiring a student to fil this position because it is cheaper and we are broke, but I would like to assure you all now that it's not true."

The two boys in front of her snickered quietly, one whispering a "yeah right" to the other. Dr. Gonzalez looked up at the boys. "You two giggling in the back. You don't seem like the type we need at Camp Nou. You can leave now." Everyone in the room sat up straighter after that. Everyone was on military behavior, not wanting a wrong look or a chair squeak to blow their chance. "As many of you know, one of our strikers, Ousmane Dembélé, presents with consistent right hamstring tightness, leading to frequent injuries."

As Dr. Gonzalez turned to face the screen, y/n found enough bravery to pull out a pen and paper to take notes. The doctor continued to describe the player's condition, his playing style, and the current course of treatment being used. After speaking for 25 minutes (while facing the screen instead of the students), he turned around and addressed them. "Your project is to develop a continuous muscular therapy treatment for Dembélé in the next two days. The best and most cost effective method gets the job placement. You at the back," he pointed at y/n, "Smart choice to take notes. I advise you not to share."

Y/n drove home that evening checking her rear-view mirror every few seconds. The possibility of being followed by one of her classmates so they could steal her notes was low, but never zero, and so she did both of the locks tightly on the door. She sat at her computer and got to work right away. Truth be told, she felt like the whole assignment was kind of a trick. Dr. Gonzalez had told them the current treatment plan for Dembélé, which had obviously been working seeing as they kept using it. She made a few adjustments based on leg dominance and the anticipated excess strain of playing more minutes each game, and then she decided to facetime her friend Angelika while she made the PowerPoint look pretty.

"Good evening Dr. y/l/n, finally ready to ask for my hand in marriage? My parents always wanted me to marry into medicine." y/n rolled her eyes and smirked. She had met Angelika when she was living in the US through a Facebook group for Spanish students studying abroad. Ever since then, not a day had gone by where they hadn't spoken (except once when Angelika had dropped her phone into a pint of beer and couldn't get it fixed for three days).

"You know I'm ready when you are gorgeous, just send your ring size. What're you up to?"

"Nothing much, just scrolling on the internet trying to find clubs that are no cover for ladies tomorrow. You're still coming out with us right?" y/n looked away from her computer and looked at Angelika with the "I'm about to bail on plans look" that was all too familiar. "Y/n!! You cannot be cancelling plans with us again! You haven't been anywhere except your house and the university in like six weeks! People will start to think you're with child and in hiding."

"I didn't know I was the new virgin Mary." y/n quipped, trying to make her presentation equally professional and cute. "You're not, because that would require you being a virgin. I know it feels like it's growing back because you haven't looked in the direction of a man in centuries." y/n could only shake her head. It was not a lack of trying. "Well, I'm presenting to the Barca head physio Wednesday morning, so if you ever want a chance at seeing the inside of that locker room, you need to let me skip out on tomorrow."

Angelika sighed and threw herself on the bed dramatically. "Fine, but you need to be our DD and come pick us up after. Shockingly, it's really hard to order an Uber while drunk." y/n agreed to pick the girls up from the club at the end of the night, an spent the rest of the evening chatting idlily with her friend, living vicariously through the stories she told.

The following day, y/n spent all morning refining her presentation. She spent over an hour watching videos about the Barca training facility to see if there was any equipment she had overlooked in creating her treatment plan. The day progressed as normal - cleaning, cooking, practicing her presentation, watching TV on the couch. As 1am rolled around, she still hadn't received any communication from Angelika. While she was not an inconsiderate person, Angelika did have her moments where she would completely forget about the world around her: that was when she met a man who showed interest in her. Despite being gorgeous and intelligent, Angelika, like most girls in their early twenties, suffered from a condition known as "Nothing is true about me unless an attractive man says it". y/n also suffered (mildly) from this affliction, but being surrounded by weirdos all day in university had helped substantially. She knew that if she did not leave then, she would never get any sleep, and so she grabbed her car keys and headed to the address of the club that she had been sent earlier on.

She parked several blocks away from the club, and called Angelika for a record 41st time. y/n knew she wasn't going to receive an answer, so she changed into a tight satin top and a pair of heels that she always left in her car in case of emergencies (What if Joao Felix decided to take a random trip to Barcelona and she was unprepared?). She could feel the street practically vibrating beneath her as she walked towards the club. She was let in easily - it was a Tuesday night and the establishment needed female patrons. She kept close to the bar, and asked the girls working there if they had seen her friend. Once y/n pulled up a picture of Angelika, the girls laughed to one another.

"Oh yeah, she's up in the VIP section. They've dropped like 6k on bottle service already."

y/n felt the vein in her forehead start to pop out. Of course Angelika had found herself a man that would take her to the part of the club that was the hardest to get into. Especially on the night when y/n really needed to get home. Because why wouldn't that happen? She made her way over to the VIP section, where she was promptly stopped by two large bouncers, who obviously didn't believe that she just wanted to grab her friend. While standing there deciding whether she should just make Angelika order an Uber (or have this new lover order one for her), she was tapped on the shoulder. She turned around and was met by a very attractive man (boy? His age was hard to determine in the dark).

"Hey, do you need to get into VIP? Are you here alone? " "That's a really creepy question to ask a girl in a club." y/n yelled back over the thumping music. What were all these people doing out on a Tuesday? "No not like that. I can help you get in if you want." "I don't really want to get in, I just want to get my friend and leave." The man (boy?)'s eyes lit up. "Perfect! My tea- friend. My friend that I'm with is pretty drunk and the person that drove us is in VIP. I can't leave him by himself because he's kind of rowdy even when sober. Could you watch him while I go grab them?"

y/n didn't want to look too deeply into a good thing, but the offer felt suspicious. She scanned the boy (she had decided that he was young), looking for any indication that he could live up to his end of the bargain. She looked down at his feet, noticing the white Alexander McQueen sneakers. She decided that she could trust him, and if not, she was still in a public place, and someone would notice if she was being dragged out of a club kicking and screaming. She walked over to where the friend was and had to stifle a laugh. Another boy was sprawled across two high bar chairs, legs up and head rolled back. He was wearing a pair of Louis Vuitton sunglasses despite it being the middle of the night and them being indoors. His white button up had the first two undone and the collar popped, like he was Pitbull in 2011. He was in a pair skinny jeans (because, as y/n discovered quickly, everyone in the world had moved on from skinny jeans except for Spanish men) and some white Dolce and Gabanna sneakers. Where were these kids getting all this money?

"Pablo! Look who I brought you! This is..." The first boy looked back at you expectantly. "y/n". "y/n! She's really great and going to take care of you while I go get Pepi so we can go home." The drunk one (now Identified as Pablo) lifted his head, and tilted the sunglasses just enough to get a good look at the girl. "Wow Angel, nice job." The first one (Angel apparently) apologized to y/n, explaining that Pablo was a "really flirty drunk" but that he was never like this sober. y/n showed Angel a picture of Angelika, and off he went back into the beast that was the club. y/n stood awkwardly by Pablo, who appeared to have fallen asleep. Suddenly, he sprung up and asked her, "so what is a pretty girl like you doing in the club by herself?"

"I'm not here to go clubbing, just picking up a friend." "You're dressed like you're going clubbing." "Right, because they wouldn't let me into the club in my scrubs." "Scrubs? You look too young to be a doctor." The music was starting to take a toll on y/n, the thumping rhythm giving her a splitting headache. "You don't look old enough to be let into the club, but everyone is full of surprises." Pablo did not take this comment well. He stood up, feeling all the blood rush to his head as he rested his weight against the bar. He pushed his glasses up his head, and looked straight at her.

This was the first opportunity y/n had to admire how gorgeous Pablo was. The glasses pushed his hair back on his head, showing off his striking eyebrows and cheekbones. His eyes were wide and glassy, making him look like a teenager who had gotten drunk for the first time. For all y/n knew, that could be the case. His nose slopped downward, a subtle bump in the bridge like it had been broken before and reset. His discontent made his bottom lip poke out, and y/n suddenly was overwhelmed by the urge to treat him like a child: make him feel better with a kiss. "I'm 18, and this isn't even my first time in a club. You want to see my ID?" Pablo had gotten much closer to her than she had expected. In her 4 inch heels, y/n was looking him straight in the eyes. He was mere inches away from her face, cheeks flushed from the alcohol and the anger of being called a child. She couldn't stop her gaze from flipping between his eyes to his pouting lips. 'This is normal,' she thought to herself. 'I'm overwhelmed because no man has been this close to me in a while. Even if my scumbag cheating ex was standing this close I would want to kiss him. I am simply in desperate need of affection.'

This internal monologue ended just as another club patron bumped into Pablo, causing him to lose balance. He put his arms around y/n and rested weight against her, head pressed into her shoulder. "I feel like dying. I shouldn't have drank that much." He muttered. She just held him there, scared that he would hit the floor if she shifted. "Then why did you keep drinking?" She asked. It couldn't hurt - in the state he was in, she would be surprised if he even remembered his name in the morning. "So my brain would be a little quieter." y/n's heart ached at the statement. However old the boy in her arms was, he was being burdened by something far beyond his age.

Before she could ask anything else, she was tapped on the shoulder by Angel, who signaled for her to follow out of the club. She put one of Pablo's arms around her neck and began shuffling through the crowd. Once they left the club, Pablo quickly separated from her to throw up on the side of the street. "At least he waited until he was off of you to do that," a male voice echoed from behind her. y/n turned around to see Angelika clinging to a tall brunet. "Thank you so much for carrying her out. I think I can take it from here." y/n said, trying to get Angelika to remove herself from the nice man. "It's ok, I can walk her to your car. It might be easier than you carrying her." y/n smiled apologetically, and turned around to the sound of Pablo continuing to wretch his guts out. She ran over to make sure he wasn't puking blood and didn't need medical attention. "Come on Pablo let's go." Angel said from the curb. "No no, don't rush him. Let him get it all out before he gets into my car. Otherwise he'll have to start taking the city bus to matches." y/n looked up at the new voice. He walked up and stood by Angel, glancing at his phone before looking up at his friend and the girl making sure he didn't die. "Thanks for looking after him. I hope he wasn't too bad, he's a tag aggressive." y/n stood there speechless. The man thanking her for taking care of his drunk friend was none other than Pedri Gonzalez, one of the young stars of F.C. Barca. He was an absolute magician with the ball, and quickly becoming a favorite in y/n's household. She wanted to let out a scream: jump up and down and tell him that she was a huge fan and ask for a picture. But she had her presentation tomorrow. The last thing she needed was to make a bad impression on the player by causing a scene. So she took a deep breath and insisted that it was no problem.

Pablo had finished puking out his guts by that point and stood up straight, gripping his head from the dizziness. "Alright hermano, time to go." Pedri said, turning his back to y/n, Angelika, and the main carrying her. "Wait." Pablo said rummaging through his pocket. He pulled out his wallet, and clumsily pulled a card from it. He turned to y/n and grabbed her shoulder, pulling her close to him. There were shouts from his friends to stop whatever he was doing, but nothing was registering in his liquor-filled brain. "y/n think's I'm a little kid, so I just wanted to show her my ID." y/n shifted her gaze from his deep eyes to the card in his hand. She didn't look at the age. She didn't have to. Her eyes landed on the name: Pablo Martín Páez Gavira. One of the best young football players in the world had just used her as a banister. "Now that you know I'm not a kid, next time, you should let me buy you a drink." Pablo said, pushing a strand of hair from y/n's face before walking (wobbling) back to his friends.

y/n could not process everything going on in her head at that moment. She turned around and faced the man holding a half-asleep Angelika. "You don't play for Barca do you?" She asked, half joking and half fearful. "No. I play for Real Sociedad. I'm Martin." "Zubimendi??" "Yeah." This was too much. y/n, 7 hours before the most important presentation of her life, was surrounded by so much football royalty it made her dizzy. Martin looked like he was going to say something else, but y/n put her finger to her lips and shushed him. "Please, not another word. Just bring her to the car."

They walked silently to y/n's tiny car, Martin helping to carefully place Angelika in the back seat. "So are you the guy she was with while ignoring my calls?" "Oh no, that was my teammate Ander. He was also kind of out of it so I offered to help her out." "Why is everyone getting drunk out of their minds on a random Tuesday in August?" y/n said in frustration, causing a laugh to erupt from Martin. "It's the last week before training for the new season starts. Not a lot of opportunities to black out after this. People like to take advantage." y/n thanked Martin and got into the driver's seat. He stopped her before she drove off. "Do you think I could maybe get your number? Just to make sure you get home safe?" y/n rolled her eyes at the lame excuse for a pick-up tactic, but surrendered her phone number anyway. She drove back to her apartment with her head reeling, as she tried to rehearse her speech in her head instead of thinking of the events of the night.

The next day, y/n looked perfect. She had work her best school-approved scrubs and coat. and slicked her hair back to make her look more professional. She was in her business attire Nikes. Her note cards were neatly written and organized. She sat in the lecture hall waiting to be called on. The students would be presenting in random order. As all the student filled in to present, the tension was palpable. Everyone side-eyed each other, trying to intimidate the "competition". The door swung open and in walked the professor, as well as Dr. Gonzalez. He stood at the front podium, stern as ever, and began to speak.

"Good morning students. Thank you all for the effort you have put into the presentations you will share today. We look forward to all you assessments and insights. As the new season quickly approaches, we want the new assistant to become acclimated to the workplace quickly. Therefore, the decision about the position will be made today following the presentation." The entire room stopped breathing. "In order to do so efficiently, please welcome our other guests and evaluators, Mr. Xavi Hernandez and Mr. Ousmane Dembélé." The pair walked in, and the room engaged in the most "I wish I was dead" sounding clapping known to man. y/n started sweating profusely. If she had known that Xavi and Dembélé were going to be watching her presentation, she would have made Angelika take the Uber. Hell, she would have made her ride a Donkey back home and gotten a full night's sleep.

Dr. Gonzalez drew names for the order, and because y/n has the worst luck, she was presenting last. She did what she does best: panicked immediately. She tried to think of ways to present the information differently than the 6 students before her had. As she listened to the presentations, the more nervous she got. None of the other students had treatment plans remotely similar to hers. Antonio, one of the smartest in their batch and the presenter right before her, even suggested he get surgery.

It was time. y/n stood up at the front of the room and pulled out her slides. "Good morning everyone. Today I will be presenting my comprehensive treatment plan for player Ousmane Dembélé's right hamstring." She got through the whole thing without stuttering or having her knees give out. As she finished her last slide, she let out a sigh of relief. The hard part was over. She asked if their were questions and Xavi's hand went up. "So Miss y/n, the treatment plan presented is very similar to the one we have currently implemented, with a couple changes in training and every day life. What is the anticipated recovery time for this treatment?" Everyone else in the class had said 8-12 months. But no - of course y/n had to be differently. "6 weeks sir." "6 weeks? No one else has given a suggestion that would take less than half a year." "Yes sir, however, if you take into account the availability of daily therapy, cryotherapy, and the current play style and strain distribution, he can be on the field in 6 weeks. He might not be comfortable playing all 90 minutes each game, but that's not the same as being completely out for injury." Xavi nodded and said nothing more. That was the end of the questioning.

It took them 8 minutes exactly to decide who go the job. Dr. Gonzalez, Xavi, and Dembélé came back into the room, thanking everyone again for their hard work. "We are please to announce," Xavi started, "that we will be offering the assistant physiotherapist position for the 2022/2023 season to," he turned to Dembélé, who finished the thought, "Miss y/n y/l/n." All the men in the room turned to face y/n at once as she struggled to breathe from the shock. "We look forward to having you this season."

And that's how it happened. y/n was now the assistant physiotherapist for the first team at F.C. Barcelona during the day, and entertainment for the absolute worst men in Spain in the evenings. She left her disappointing first date with a headache and leftovers, and drove home listening to her "Maybe Love is a Social Construct" playlist. As she walked into her apartment, her phone chimed with a text notification. She let her hair down and grabbed her phone, preparing to update Angelika about the latest in the tragedy that was her love life. Instead, she had two separate text notifications.

[Unknown number]: Hey, is this still y/n's number?

[Gavi]: I need to see you urgently. Tomorrow morning 6:30 am. I'll be waiting outside your office.

To be continued...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you got this far, thanks for reading! I have had this idea for a long time and have been writing snippets of it down. I will continue to update whenever I can, as this really is a passion project for me (so it's ok if no one reads it).

GIF credit to @gavidaily

Huge thanks to the following for heavily inspiring me to start writing this on the internet: @missgavi @kyiiansmbappe @julianalvarez9 @milawritesstuff @leeamorgan (there are a couple others I'm forgetting)

[goalsdigger]

Podsumowanie kwietnia

Nieco spóźnione, nie wracam tu jeszcze, tylko chce mieć porządek do podsumowania roku xd

📚: Polski SOR, Na ostrzu noża, Farmaceuci, Terapia z użyciem MDMA

🎬: Czas apokalipsy, Najlepszy (kocham ten film!), Był sobie pies, Wielki apetyt, Przebudzenia +7, 8 i 9 sezon How I met your mother

🎧: Był sobie pies

🏃‍♀️: 47 km

🚲: 78 km

🏊‍♀️: 2,150 km (nie wiem ile robię na treningach pływackich)

FBW: 2x

Heelsy: 1

Yoga: 2

Zajęcia lekkoatletyczne: 3

OSP: 2

Wydarzenia: wybitny koncert, pierwsze lekcje pływania z nowym instruktorem, przyjazd Julki i wieczorne oglądanie filmów, Bieg (marsz) po Zdrowie z Julką i Walterem, super wieczór po pływaniu i przypływ energii, przyjazd do domu rodzinnego, Kołobrzeski triathlon, Dziwnowska Liga Biegowa, chora, spotkanie z A. i emka

Piosenka miesiąca:

Osiągnięcia: przysiady na jednej nodze z obciążeniem, stanie na rękach przez 7 sekund, wyciągnięcie się z dołka jedną nogą (jak się potem okazuje tylko na chwilę, no ale jednak), progres w pływaniu, ukończony pierwszy triathlon w życiu

Porażki: heelsy, raz opio

[nco05]

The Barça season 2023/24 - femení edition

At long last, the femení edition. I couldn't not do it for the history makers!

Analysis of goals, transfers & injuries

Note: Club Friendlies are not counted, considering it's really just a meeting of teams that don't usually meet. It's not a competition

Warning: There could be inaccuracies, for that I am sorry

Goals

4 TROPHIES! FINALLY THEY DEFEATED LYON;

As you can see, the ladies closed out yet another season with over 200 goals scored! In Liga F alone 135!;

Salma is the total topscorer, whilst also being the topscorer in 3 of the 4 competitions;

Caroline is the Liga F Pichichi for the 1st time ever since transferring to Barça! An amazing season for her turns out to be very fruitful;

Fridolina who missed 7 months came up to score a whooping 6;

Marta & Ona scored the most out of all defenders. 9 for Marta is incredibly well done. Ona definetly didn't miss her mark in her 1st season back with 7;

7 players with double digit goals, including Alexia who despite missing 5 months scored 10 more than last season;

Many youngsters also marked 1 or more goal, with Vicky being the outlier with 9!

Transfers

Some of the transfers are loans;

Pere Romeu becomes the new coach. He was part of Jona's staff. The cycle of Barça coach is a long involved staff member thus continues;

The departure of some was expected (Asisat, Geyse, Laia), however the 2 that are still a bitter pill were Ana-Maria & Nuria's. With how little notice both were sent away. I do think they learnt their lesson considering Jona, Mario & Sandra's sent-off;

There weren't many new transfers ahead of the season. 2 of these were even for Barça B - Onyeka & Giulia;

However there are 2 incoming transfers that are pre-negociated (?) in the form of Ewa Pajor & Ellie Roebuck. Pajor would be a striker which Barça hasn't had since Oshoala left mid-season. Roebuck would be more of a Cata stand-in as Cata officially becomes the no.1. I'd assume Ellie would be rotated with her;

Then there's also the rumour of Laia Aleixandri coming home - like Ona, she is also a La Masia product. This would be crucial given the CB-crisis that was this past season was horrendous. As well as the fact that Laia is a decent player: very fast on & off the ball & much like Patri willing to fight all the time;

It is painful but I say goodbye to Asisat, Sandra, Jonatan & Mariona with the utmust gratitude

Injuries

Which is what I'll highlight here first: the CB crisis; Irene for parts of the year was ill, Mapi had a whooping total of 3 injuries with her most severe putting her out of action for 200 days & Jana herself was out for 7 months. This resulted in relying heavily on Martina Fernandez - a Barça B player - & Ingrid Engen - a MIDFIELDER. Unfortunately this came at the cost for Martina at the very end of the season;

With Ona & Martina being the final additions to equipo lesionado, Ingrid is potentially the final player left to not have been injured. This is evident in the high amount of minutes to she played. It is crucial that Barça could close the deal on free agent Laia A. if they want so that Ingrid can be rotated from time to time;

Mapi, Fridolina, Alexia & Jana missed a lot of months to play & were greatly missed;

Caroline this season was out for less long than other times. This was usually with Norway;

September, October & November were by far the worst months;

Aitana & Bruna played through discomfort.

Other highlights

Ingrid whilst not reflected in the G/A had a very stable season. Goddamn this woman played CB despite not even being a defender. She played a lot of minutes & she did it well;

Alexia & Frido's comebacks!!!;

The amount of Barça B players that got a significant amount of time is also very pleasant. They all had a moment to shine;

Jana & Bruna finally recovering for real;

The highly anticipated return of Mapi;

Irene lifting the UWCL for a 2nd time... having defeated Lyon by a strong performance... in her home that is the Basque country <3;

Cata inevitable number change from 13 to 1!