#fc: jennie | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

randombush3 · 5 months

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audentes fortuna iuvat

alexia putellas x reader

part one, part two

words: 9541

summary: alexia and you as posh + becks III

content warnings: there’s some (a lot of) cheating + postpartum depression. it’s more frustrating than sad though x

notes: this covers 2019-22(ish). It was SUPPOSED to be the last part. It’s not anymore. I’m gonna do a fourth to deal w the mess I have created in a more self-indulgent amount of words than the 3k i had planned. That will probably have smut in it 😛

“Y/n left me.”

The limousine you are in is completely black, save for the white lines being measured out right next to you.

“What?” says Jenni.

“She left me,” Alexia says once more. The hotel room is a non-committal beige. They lie in the same bed, the older of the two welcoming her lost teammate wordlessly and without judgement. Tomorrow, they will return to Barcelona, losers yet another time. “She moved back to london. She took Nico.”

“She can’t just take Nico, can she?”

“Y/n, how’s Nico?” Your stomach turns, but whether that is provoked by the thought of the baby boy you left crying in your father’s arms or by the white powder outlining the rim of the woman’s nostrils, you don’t know.

Your son’s creasing eyes, red face, and grabbing hands appear in front of you. He screams as you walk away. He doesn’t understand why he has not smelt Alexia in weeks, and he misses the comfort of home.

Everyone waits for your answer. No one comments on the bags under your eyes. “He's fine,” you say with a smile. “He loves it here.”

“I think she is depressed,” Alexia tells Jenni, comforted by the arms wrapped around her waist, holding her close and tightly and reminding her that she is not as alone as you have made her feel. “She told me that she couldn’t be in Barcelona anymore, but she said that without giving me a chance to come with her. Her bags were packed before the conversation started — she might as well have called me from the plane.”

“Are you angry at her?”

“Yes.”

Alexia thinks about it.

“No.”

“No,” you say when they point at your very own line. The drug holds a place of both familiarity and hatred in your heart. The fine, white powder reminds you of greatness – of being the most successful girl group in the UK – but, also, of hospital visits. It’s not a past addiction, but it could have been. You light a cigarette instead, though it will make the vehicle reek. “I can't. I have a son.”

“You’re not a saint.” They boo. “You’re allowed to have fun. I saw you the other day, and you had no qualms with any drugs then.”

“No, I'm not a saint,” you reply. You regret that night — however little you remember. “But I am a mother.”

“Is it that thing? Postpartum?” Jenni asks. “The baby blues are really shitty, I've heard, but they’re not supposed to cripple you. Maybe the relationship has other issues.”

“I'm not angry at her, Jenni,” Alexia repeats. “I miss Nico. He looks like her. He has started to look a lot more like her now.”

“He would definitely suit those sparkly bralettes.” Jenni giggles at the thought.

With an understandable lack of good humour, Alexia ponders something more realistic. “He would suit a Barcelona kit.”

“He would be made for it. You are his mother.”

“I'm not angry at her,” Alexia says for the third time, just to make herself believe it. Just to carve those words into her bones and tell herself that it isn’t anger, what she’s feeling. “I don't want to be angry at her. I think I'm going to see if I can move to arsenal.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Well, I'm not angry at her.”

“Alexia.” Jenni cups her cheek tenderly. “Ale.” She knows she shouldn’t. She’s not angry at you, and so there is no punishment needed. Not that… Not that kissing Jenni would ever be utilised as a weapon to get back at you. Or that she’d actually kiss her.

“Daddy, I can't get him tonight. No, I don't want to stay over. Daddy, I…” You hate the baby. You hate yourself. You hate that Spain hasn’t done well, and that your fiancée is disappointed that nothing is how it was supposed to be. Alexia is probably lying awake in bed, missing her son, and missing you. You expect one of her teammates to call you soon, and tell her that she needs you. You’re her person. “I'm going to get some sleep and I'll pick him up tomorrow. Probably around lunchtime, okay?”

“Alexia, bésame.”

…

You had passively bought your house. It’s how property sale works when you’re a celebrity. People are always willing to do things for you if you know the price, and it never hurts to use your name to add a new flashy level to whatever stupid business they are running. It’s a mutual exploitation, to some extent.

Highgate is beautiful. The house is beautiful.

The reception room, with its high, decorated ceilings, is your favourite place to numbly take in the twisted jigsaw of your life when Nico has cried himself to sleep. The nursery is on the first floor. He is near enough for safety, but at a distance that allows you to regret all the mistakes you have made.

You watch him roll over onto his stomach, eyes trained on the baby monitor though your fingers graze the ivory keys of your new piano, attempting to compose something worthwhile. At this rate, your solo career is going to fail just like your relationship seems to be doing.

Yesterday, while Alexia seemingly disappeared from the face of the Earth, you came out. It was an off-hand comment during the Graham Norton Show. A quick ‘my fiancée named him. She’s from Barcelona’ was all it took. You hope Alexia, wherever she may be, has heard about it. Jenni would have told her. You trust Jenni to be somewhat on your side because she always has been.

The doorbell rings just as you sniffle, wiping away the tear that slips down your cheek. “Don’t be pathetic,” you mutter to yourself. “You didn’t pay five million pounds to sit here and cry. You chose to come back home.”

Being in England – colder, drearier, lonelier England – has made you realise that your decision was not the right one. Or maybe it was. It has proven that you are as terrible a mother as you convinced yourself you were back in Barcelona, and it has also shoved the cavity Alexia leaves in your life when you refuse her entry right down your throat in the form of a constant lump and a dull stabbing in your chest whenever you think about anything past whether Nico has had anything to eat. You can’t even feed him properly, despite it being supposedly in your nature. You buy formula from the nearest Waitrose.

The doorbell rings again.

The insistence is not uncommon seeing as you are, at the minute, the English press’s number one target. You open the CCTV app on your phone so that you can decide whether or not to ignore the potential stalker, and your heart rate spikes when you see the hooded figure standing on the porch. Back to the door, it is not possible to determine the threat. A well-buried maternal instinct kicks in for once, and you ensure that Nico is still peacefully out cold before getting up to answer the door with the poker from the Victorian fireplace firmly in your grip. Just in case.

You are a mother, in whatever capacity you have decided that role looks like, and so you undo the three latches on the door with brave, protective fingers. The baby monitor’s volume has increased, and the fuzz of white noise is audible if Nico were to make a sound. The vague repulsion at the idea of it all is only an aftertaste in your silent prayer for the hooded figure to not want to kill you. Some sick part of your brain imagines Nico dead, as well. It tortures you.

The poker in your other hand, for the most fleeting of moments, is almost plunged into your chest. The imaginary, self-inflicted wound makes you think of the blood and how the baby upstairs would wail until someone found him. The grimace of annoyance on your lips is nothing new, but you have no more time to torment yourself because the doorbell is pressed again, rather impatiently.

You open the door and the hooded figure is right in front of you. “He’s asleep,” you say, the Spanish foreign on your tongue.

Alexia shrugs, and her hood falls down, revealing the brunette tendrils that hang from her slowly sinking bun. “I came for you,” she replies, so earnestly that it is as if nothing ever happened: past pain forgotten and replaced by sprouting memories of soft kisses and mornings where leaving was too hard to do. Some of them, you think, are not real. They don’t seem to be. Your blank stare is unsettling. You almost don’t believe her. “Can we talk?” she tries, and you notice the team-issued duffle on the tiled floor she is standing on. Then, from the pocket of her hoodie, she extracts a pastry box. The plastic window is filled with circles of different colours, and she holds out the macaroons to you as if to bribe her way into a home in which she is unsure she belongs to.

Stepping aside, leaning the poker against the wall by the door, you scratch at the bare skin of your neck. Alexia, while sweeping an arm down to collect her bag, fixes her gaze onto the ring you are wearing, and the diamond glistens with hope that this can all be fixed. “Would you like to come inside?”

She swallows the whine of anguish that tears her heart open at the idea that this might never be her house to live in, too, and she follows you dutifully as you lead her through hallways far more luxurious than the flat in Barcelona could ever be. This is what you left her for – the person you are, no longer in worn clothing with messy hair, is quite the opposite of the woman with her back to her moments before she had to focus on football. The necklace draped on your sharpened collarbones is new, and she does not dare believe what she has been hearing is true. Yes, there are pictures, but she trusts you. She will always trust you.

“Have a seat,” you say, gesturing to the wooden dining table. It is clean enough for her to determine that it is unused. Alexia places the macaroons in front of her, and aches at how you sit at the opposite end.

“I…”

“I thought you were going to give me all the time that I needed.” It is a statement of distance, as if your location is not enough.

Alexia, eyes widening at how unwelcome she suddenly feels, needs only to remind herself of the impending date of the wedding. It is beginning to loom uncomfortably, with the excitement of getting married drained out like a low tide on a deserted beach. “We have two weeks. If it isn’t going to happen, then you should tell me now. We have to give everyone notice so that they can cancel their flights.” Your silence spurs her on. “You will need to contact the wedding planner, because you refused to let me have a hand in any of it so I don’t even have their number. I’m sorry that you won’t be able to wear your dress. Vivienne Westwood is a big thing for you, I know. I’m sorry that it’s inconvenient.”

“But Alexia,” you whisper, “I don’t not want to get married.”

Her eyebrows furrow, head tilted slightly to the left. “I know. That is why I am saying this.”

Your voice grows louder. “No, no. Sorry, that wasn’t the easiest thing to understand.” Across the dining table, your love that has faltered, that has hesitated and been reconsidered and been stamped down over the past month, extends towards her: its final destination, always and forever. Alexia feels it grab her by the throat, wrenching the words from her before she can even formulate a thought in response, and her body is so drawn to you, in such a powerful fashion, that she pushes her chair out from the table with a grating scrape and is stepping towards you with a finality that makes her wonder if she’ll ever leave your side.

As she approaches, the idea that she is here becomes a little too real. You have played with the fantasy of it, of course, but the tenderness in her usually fierce eyes does not match the anger you had expected, and, in the most feeble fashion, you have never felt more apologetic in your life.

“I’m so sorry,” you begin to say. Tears stream down your face with freed anguish, and the words are so simple yet they bear the weight of your entire soul. “I’m so sorry, darling. I made a mistake, and I have been met with the most crushing of realisations: I can’t do this without you, Alexia.” I still want to marry you, Alexia.

The room seems to close in on your despair, attempting to bottle it, almost, and keep you trapped underneath a haze of emotions you don’t quite know how to sort through. “I… I’m beginning to hate him.” The confession hangs heavy over Alexia’s bowed head as she stands frozen in place, stuck in her journey towards you but unable to arrive. “I’m acutely aware of how cruel it is,” you continue, this next admission being what agonises you the most. It floods the room with guilt, and your voice trembles with self-condemnation that reigns harsher than any other voice in your head.

“It’s ridiculous. I’m evil and I’m wrong, and I just feel like it is inherently in my nature to be like this, as though some fault has been built into me with warning signs we evidently ignored.” You struggle to breathe. “I wish I could take back the day we decided to have him,” you confess, your voice barely above a whisper, lips doused in tears, skin searing with shame when Alexia cups your cheek with a strong, calloused hand. “He should not have to be stuck with me as a mother.”

Your chest heaves, and you are finished. You have never verbalised it before now, and it is impossible to decide whether it has helped remove the lead lining of your heart where it has been bolstered against your will. Her other hand steadily rises to your face, but then, with only a second of hesitation, she is pulling you upwards and enveloping you in her embrace. You feel a little bit closer to her. “Mi amor,” Alexia murmurs, tone cracked with sorrow and regret. “Lo siento mucho. Desearía haber sabido, desearía haber estado allí para ti.”

Gently, she tilts your face upwards to meet her gaze. “You are not evil and no estás equivocada. Estoy aquí ahora, y no te dejaré enfrentar esto sola nunca más.” You collapse into her. “I’m here, cariño, and I am not going anywhere.”

The sentiment is wonderful, and Alexia makes good on her word.

When Nico begins to cry, the sound piercing through your choked sobs, Alexia realises she has missed all of her life with you. Being separated and being apart due to work, she now knows, are two excruciatingly different things. The whiny wails from upstairs visibly jar you, though you pull away from Alexia to attend to him. “I will do it,” she declares, though her firmness is not mean. “Sit down. Eat the macaroons – they’re… ‘to die for’?” You nod with instinctive encouragement. “Sí. They’re to die for. Try. Jenni says that the pink ones are the best.”

“Jenni picked them out?” you ask with a briefly regained humour, eyebrows raising. “Had to get your friend to choose your apology gift?” In truth, neither of you know what Alexia would be apologising for, but Nico’s crying grows more incessant and Alexia is climbing the carpeted staircase before the topic can be discussed.

Alexia reaches her son with tears brimming in her eyes. The failure of Spain at the World Cup is amplified by the idea that she has disappointed him, though he does not yet possess the tools to pledge his allegiance to her country. In fact, Nico has been sleeping in Manchester United attire (your father has been his primary carer of late, and he does not charge you money, so the price is obviously Alexia’s sanity). She is more than glad to smell his nappy, and delighted about the opportunity to change him into something less hideous.

“Mama loves you so much,” she tells him as she manoeuvres his chubby legs into a plain, inoffensive onesie. “I promise, petit. I am going to help her, okay? And we are going to get through this together.” Alexia forgets about the taste of Jenni’s lips and the heat between them. “Mama just doesn’t see the direction she is going in. It is like her eyes are covered, and she is telling herself that she is walking down the wrong path, but this is not true. You are the most special thing in the world to us. You are the sunrise, the sunset, and the hours of the day.”

She pauses to stand him up on his tiny feet, hands hoisted underneath his armpits. He is heavier than when she last held him, but she is stronger than before, too. Women’s football is growing, along with her muscles. Nico babbles out a vague reply, but Alexia hears what he is trying to say. “I agree. We’ll be alright.” And, with all her heart, it rings true.

…

The following day, she calls the doctor for you, script written out on a piece of paper in front of her, translated perfectly so that her concern does not waver the information she needs to tell the receptionist. The clinic is famous and discreet, and they are quick to prescribe you antidepressants before the week draws to a close. You won’t be able to drink at your wedding, and everyone might think you are pregnant again, but Alexia reassures you that it will be worth it.

Wrapped up in your own bubble, the three of you enjoy London in a way that isn’t possible in Barcelona.

Here, Alexia has no commitment to football. There are no training sessions she must rush off to, there are no teammates to pry, and no one else to interfere with your private little routine. You quite like it, and she does too. It is only temporary, before you fly out to Menorca and hand Nico off to Eli in order to enjoy your respective bachelorette parties and then, in exactly seven days, your wedding itself.

“You’re still smoking,” Alexia says disapprovingly, the sleep in her voice enough to make you feel a pang of guilt. It’s late at night when Nico has finally been soothed from his aching gums, and she has been able to climb back into bed expecting to find you asleep already. “Why are you awake?”

“I’m still smoking,” you tell her. She sighs at the way you parrot her words, but presses an affectionate kiss to the junction of your neck and shoulders despite the lingering smell of cigarettes. “If I can’t drink, I’m going to smoke. This is Hollywood.”

“This is Highgate.” Her accent curls around the name with something a little too foreign for her to ever consider this place home. “Why are you awake?” she repeats.

You look down at the open notebook in your lap, the pages either blank or full of crossed-out lyrics. “He was so loud, but I can’t seem to write anything either so, really, it has been quite redundant.”

“I had to get a glass full of ice and hold it to my fingers so that I could help him. I could have lost some very important assets, but it seemed to do the trick.” He’s teething. You’re telling yourself that the antidepressants are little pills of miracle, and have kicked in already. “Feel.” She presses two freezing fingers to your cheek, and you gasp, flinching away from her.

“There’s a teething ring downstairs, you know,” you tell her. She shrugs. Maybe it isn’t clean. “Don’t give yourself frostbite. I happen to quite like your fingers.”

Alexia’s smirk is beyond suggestive, and her lips hit your neck once more with an entirely different heat to them. “Yeah?” You push her head away. “I bet it would feel good. Nice and cold.”

“You’re delirious.”

She continues to kiss you. “I don’t know what that means,” she mumbles into your neck, until her lips reach your face and she is near climbing into your lap – notebook long pushed onto the floor. “Dímelo en español.”

“No lo sé.”

“Ah. Una palabra inteligente.”

“Claro.”

She laughs into the kiss she presses against your lips. She never has never felt like this with anyone else. Never this relaxed, or loved, or safe. “Me vas a matar con tu inteligencia y voy a sentirme estúpida para siempre.”

“I love you,” you state softly. “I love every part of you.” Alexia, in that moment, decides to never do what she did with Jenni again, and to never break your heart by informing you of her betrayal.

…

You’re married.

You’re married to Alexia, a woman who bears the beauty of a goddess and the strength and will of someone who could capture the sun and tame the fire that rages on its surface.

You admire her as she sleeps so peacefully beside you, tanned skin warmed by the sunlight streaming in through the large windows of the hotel room. Later, you will get on the ferry, go back to Barcelona, and then fly to Capri for three days alone before Alexia’s preseason starts. Aside from a few meetings with Dave, you theoretically aren’t swamped with anything. You’ll be joining her in her city with Nico with a bit more permanence than last time.

Alexia buries her face in the covers, crawling into your open arms the minute the sunlight rouses her. “Everything is sore,” she groans, her bare skin slightly sticking to yours, the sweat from last night not yet gone.

“What happened to ‘mi vida, one more time won’t hurt’?” you tease, impersonating her heavy accent over your English with enough drama to get her to elicit another grumble. This time, it’s something about being bullied. “Darling, we have to get up. We’re having breakfast with our parents, and apparently Nico has been upset that we got a night to ourselves.”

“Pobrecito,” she replies with a newfound level of English sarcasm. She spent the wedding reception avoiding the dance floor, engaged in a long conversation with your father. The topics spanned over most areas of life, and briefly touched upon how you are doing now. Alexia, with much pleasure, confirmed the improvement, however miniscule it has been. She is very proud of you, and he is too. “I only want one thing for breakfast.”

Her hands begin to roam, the band of her wedding ring hitting your pubic bone. “Mi vida, one more time won’t hurt,” she mocks you from before but in her sexier, Spanish husk, sucking at your collarbone, straddling your waist.

You replace your near moan with a thoughtful hum. “I really want pancakes. Do you think they’ll make me some?”

Downstairs, where it is brighter and impossible to conceal the hickeys on both of your necks, you greet your parents, brother, Anya, and Gio. Alexia’s mother, her sister, and Jenni are sitting at the table, too. Your baby is pretending he isn’t teething, and grinning like an angel.

“How’s married life?” Anya asks as you take a seat opposite her, Alexia to your right. The table has a gradient of bilingualism, but Gio discovered that she picks up Spanish quite easily considering she can already speak one romance language. “We’ve already found, like, four articles talking about it.”

“How?” you ask, but you are not offended.

Gio shrugs. “Drones, I guess. Nothing bad, though. Some speculation about the other bride – if the article does mention that. Most talk is on the dress.” It was a bloody good dress. “And I suspect that there’ll be a juicy little question about who was your Maid of Honour.”

“Don’t be salty,” you tell her. The MOH issue was sorted out years ago – perhaps 2015 – when you binged Friends together despite having watched it thousands of times before. Anya has been yours, Gio will be hers, and you will be Gio’s. And they say trios never work.

“I left Mia with her dad for this.”

“You shouldn’t have had a baby with a man-slag,” Anya says with a snort, enjoying her second mimosa and Gio’s grimace at the idea of her daughter having to put up with her father’s revolving door of one-night-stands. “You’re one to make terrible decisions. At least our girl over here’s married someone who looks at her like she’s hung the moon.”

Alexia turns to you with a smile, as if on cue, with Nico in her lap. You glance at his rounded cheeks and shining eyes, looking back up at your friends as though to check they are still there. Alexia leans forwards so that she can whisper in your ear. “Te amo. Nico, también. Mi familia es perfecta.”

…

Returning to Barcelona comes with one negotiated condition on your part. You buy a bigger apartment, where there is space for an office and extra bedrooms. Alexia says her teammates will be taking the piss out of her grand new place the minute she sees it, but she is more than content to contribute to the finances with her new-and-improved salary for this season. “It’s weird to think that I’m from Mollet,” murmurs Alexia, standing in the middle of the large lounge area, surrounded by boxes. Most are from your old flat, but a few have been flown in from London. Alexia wanted you to have your Grammy with you. “This place is so fancy.”

“It’s half of what the men’s team get,” you remind her, holding Nico with care as he gnaws away on a frozen carrot. His saliva drips onto you, but the antidepressants are working, and the therapy has been effective enough for you to start taking childcare in turns. (You had tried to previously, but Alexia wanted you to focus on yourself, knowing that things will change for all of you once the season started.) “Hey.” You place your hand on her shoulder. She tickles Nico’s chin. “We deserve this. You deserve this. Why don’t you host one of your team’s dinners? I’ll take Nico round to your mum’s – God knows she’d love to shove some food down my throat, too.”

She shakes her head, strands of brown unstraightened due to the stress of the move and falling out of her bun with a determination to defy her hair bobble. “They would kill me if I did it without you. They’re all far too grateful that you invited Taylor Swift to our wedding.”

“She’s a friend.” If you hadn’t been distracted by various other happenings that night, you’d have clocked that Alexia’s side of the guests were completely up to their ears in celebrities they’d never expected to meet. “Okay, so do you want me to stay here?”

“I always want you to stay here,” she answers.

“Not what I meant.”

“I won’t take it back.”

Nico babbles an incoherent yet cutely Spanish-y noise, though his words are getting closer to being said at the old age of eight months. Then, suddenly, something in him clicks. “Mama,” he squeals, his little fist scrunching up the fabric of your t-shirt. “Mamama.”

“Nicolau!” Alexia replies with just as much enthusiasm, cupping his cheeks. She kisses his nose, and then his forehead, and then his chubby knees and socked feet. “Nicolau, sí, la mama et té a las mans! Bon noi, el meu bon i intel·ligent noi.”

“Does that count?”

“Mama,” Nico repeats, tugging your earlobe. “Mama. Mama.” It is easy to forget about the (lessening) resentment you harbour when he speaks. Alexia gets him to say it as many times as she can before he goes back to his carrot, but, even then, the two of you stay in that spot, marvelling at your creation.

Slowly, she turns around in a circle, absorbing the plain walls and towers of boxes. “This is going to be good. Life is going to be good,” you declare with such a firmness that it has to be true. “Darling, let’s get to unpacking and then we can think about a date for this dinner party.”

“We are going to plan the party?” She raises her eyebrows at you. “Is this party going to start at five o’clock?”

“Not all of us shit yellow and red.” (In a national sense – you’d have haemorrhoids for United any day of the week.)

Alexia takes Nico off you, in a show of cultural dominance. You’re actually outnumbered, considering he isn’t a British Citizen, and though he shares no DNA with your wife, he has inherited the same ability to narrow his eyes just enough to serve absolute cunt whenever he so pleases. If you weren’t feeling so ganged up on, you’d be a little impressed. “Nico y yo vamos a hacer croquetas de jamón. Adiós.”

“Darling, the kitchen isn’t–” But you cut yourself off, deciding that she can discover that on her own, along with the criminally empty fridge. You don’t hide your smugness at all when she finds you in your almost-finished bedroom, wearing a look of utter disappointment and mumbling out a heartbroken request for a food delivery as soon as possible.

…

November marks three years of being together and, also, four weeks of having Alexia’s ‘DNA’ – a pomeranian called Nala, whose Instagram account is run by her favourite parent after you called it silly and told your wife you’d much rather attend to your own seventeen million followers.

Towards the end of the month, after a well-spent morning and then a family outing to Barcelona Zoo, Alexia meets Jenni Hermoso in a restaurant in what Jenni calls ‘your new rich-people neighbourhood’ in her text to Alexia.

Alexia, really and truly, is happy to have her best friend back in Barcelona. She missed her last year, when Jenni had returned to Atleti, and that separation maybe made what happened the night Spain was knocked out of the World Cup just that bit more understandable. “You’re a Culer, no matter how hard you try to fight it,” Alexia had said when she had climbed back into her own bed, not wanting to fall asleep in Jenni’s arms. “It was terrible to not have Y/n or you.”

You and Jenni: Alexia’s people.

“How’s your wife?” Jenni asks with a grin, two glasses of wine into a pleasant evening at an expensive restaurant. “You’ve left her with Nico, so something must be working.”

In truth, you have been determined to get better. There were articles released not long after the photos of your wedding were circulated, and those speculated a lot about how you are finding motherhood. The baby pictured, captured by long-range lenses and invasive drones, was the world’s first glimpse at what Nico Putellas L/n looks like, and reminded many of them that you had a child to care for when in London, yet were frequently spotted at nightclubs and parties. You rise to most challenges, however, and find it a lot easier to adapt to weekly therapy sessions and pills every morning when you have a wrongful image to disprove.

“It’s as if it never happened,” Alexia says, both with pride and surprise. “She now seeks to spend time with him. She takes him with her to the recording studio – the album’s coming along well.” It’s your first on your own. Nico plays with one mixing desk, while Dave (flown in from London with the promise that the Barcelona sun will do wonders for his wife’s misery) plays with another. “And… Jenni, we’ve been talking. The clinic that we used for Nico asked us if we wanted to reserve sperm when we first had him, and now they have called asking if now is a good time. I think… I think that she is really considering it. She told me yesterday that her therapist wants me to sit in on the next session, so we can go over how we can make this time different.”

Jenni frowns, which is not what the woman opposite her had expected at all. “Why are you two having more children? You’re only twenty-five, Ale. Isn’t this going to affect your career?”

“The men do it all the time.” She’s done a spot of research. They are younger than her when their girlfriends start getting pregnant, and they continue to play with the added admiration that they are fathers as well.

“Yes, but they have the benefit of getting paid millions. They don’t have to fight with their federation for pitches or pay, and they can focus on football without their career sparking controversy for even existing.”

“Then my children will grow up with a mother who fights for change.”

“Or they grow up with a pop star who only wants things she cannot have and a footballer who can’t spend any time with them because she is too busy speaking at various conventions so that the next league match isn’t cancelled.”

“Jenni, do you think your opinion would be different if Y/n was a man?”

This elicits laughter from the other woman, who rolls her eyes in a way that can only be described as condescending. “Alexia, you’re forgetting that I’m a lesbian too, which is a magnificent feat.” Jenni references the kiss they shared, and what happened after that. “But, no. I don’t. I want you to be the greatest footballer in the world, and you want that too. What are you going to do when Y/n tells you she wants to move back to England? Are you going to give up your future here for her?”

The waiter interrupts briefly, collecting their empty plates and carting them off with a mission to retrieve the bill after a sharply declined offer for the dessert menu. “You don’t even know if that will happen,” Alexia scoffs, though she is a little sad that her exciting news hasn’t been well-received. “I was going to say that I’d think about the name Jennifer if it ends up being a girl, but now I’m leaning more towards María…”

She is kicked under the table, and she has to hold in her cry of pain because this restaurant is one of your favourite places to eat. “Mapi cannot have this victory over me. She’d be insufferable. Ale, you simply aren’t allowed to do that.” There’s another kick, but it is more playful this time.

Alexia laughs, smiling and thankful that the tension has diffused. “I’m only joking. Y/n has a list scribbled in the back of her lyric book. She’ll probably be called Elena.” That is much more acceptable to Jenni’s ears, and she files that information away for next year, when she’ll tell Mapi that Alexia doesn’t like her name.

…

It works. Alexia and you are lucky. The doctor tells Alexia that, if she were a man, the two of you would have to be extremely careful. Your wife marvels at your ability to destroy your body and stay fertile, but she supposes that you are not the kind of woman to be a lesbian. Sometimes, she wakes up in a cold sweat, believing that you have changed your mind and left her.

The New Year is a fresh start. Alexia decides to fix the (not so) hidden cracks in your relationship. She confides in her newly-acquired therapist. She may have made a mistake once; the secret is sandwiched between her worries about your susceptibility to depression and how Nico is a decided food critic.

Though the therapist, a lovely bilingual woman named Sofía, raises her eyebrows, she does not pry. She slides a paper calling card over to Alexia. The paper squeaks along the coffee table between the two comfortable armchairs of the office. “I specialise in couples. Seeing as your wife is already a client of mine, I think you should consider a joint session.” Alexia is new to the idea of mental health. Before, she had been too focused on football to care about it. Even when her father died, any professional she spoke to was only hearing how her mind worked because she knew it was what was best for her performance. “And, Alexia.” She looks up at the therapist with a small, nervous smile. “Congratulations on the pregnancy. I am sure Nico will make a wonderful older brother.”

Morning sickness drags you out of your shared bed most days.

Alexia asks you about couples’ therapy when you have finished your dry-heaving one morning.

“I mean,” you begin before pausing, gulping down the sour taste in your mouth and hoping nothing else is trying to hit the toilet water until tomorrow. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise.” She is dressed in her training kit, but she slings her jumper over your shoulders as soon as you shiver. “Do you think it’s a good idea?”

“It would do no harm.” As long as Sofía does not bring up Alexia’s confession, your statement will ring true. “You book the appointment. It’ll be easier to work around your schedule that way.”

“When are you flying back to London?” Her question is not filled with hatred for the city, but with resignation to the fact that your job involves you being stretched between here and there.

“Not until next month. I thought that I could take Nico to an away game with my dad if I got a flight for Saturday. The rest of the week would be interviews and photoshoots.”

“How’s the album doing?”

So far, your songs are only written when Alexia has paid you enough attention to swirl your thoughts and blur your vision. It is in these moments that the lingering, sinking weight inside of you dissipates. “Dave remains hopeful. It won’t fail, but I need it to be better than what we currently have.”

Shamelessly, Alexia is aware of her effect on your songs. She smirks; “Alba has been begging to babysit, you know.” With no care for your current state, Alexia’s eyes rake up and down your body. You grow embarrassed by how you are slumped over the toilet, and how she is standing above you as though she runs your world. “You look beautiful, mi amor,” she murmurs as you bashfully duck your head between your bent arms.

“You’re a flirt.” It feels too late for her to still be in the flat. “And you’re going to miss training if you don’t get a move on. There are eggs in the fridge, and Nico definitely liked the omelette you made him a few days ago. He’ll be waking up soon.”

A small sigh escapes the midfielder’s lips, but the prospect of the things she loves most in the world appearing in her life consecutively is enough to convince her to pad her way out the bathroom, swanning into the corridor with a little grin on her face as she sings out ‘bon dia’ to an impressively multilingual toddler and heads into the kitchen with the domestic intention of getting breakfast started. She leaves an omelette out for you, which you attack shortly after Alexia and Nico disappear into their daily routine. She drops him off at preschool, and you pick him up a few hours later, taking him first for lunch with Alba, and then to the studio.

You come home to a showered Alexia who is memorising her most recent match. She lets Nico slide into her lap without hesitation, but she stays focused on the football even when he tugs on the strands of hair falling out of ponytail. You marvel at the idea of having enough room in your heart for so much love. You decide that you are not like Alexia, though it is not necessarily a terrible thing. A further observation from watching your wife settle her son with a calm, muttered Catalan telling-off, coaxing him into loving football as though he does not already, is that you are so very content with your life at the moment.

But 2020 kind of sucks.

For the entire world.

You’re cut off from your home in any other manner than a digital one, and being stuck in a luxurious penthouse in Barcelona isn’t the worst fate, but it really isn’t ideal.

Elena, however, has the benefit of coming into the world with ever (physically) present parents, who could recite the java script for Zoom given that they spend hours on therapy calls. Elena, bright and smiley and the picture of her mother, spends the first few months of her life in a happy, happy family, protected by an entire football team and a fierce older brother. (And a yappy Pomerianian called Nala.)

“Y/n doesn’t like the name María,” Jenni tells Mapi when Alexia sends the first picture of your new addition to the Barcelona group chat.

“The next baby is going to be a Jennifer,” Mapi says, to both the forward and the unimpressed midfielder walking a few paces in front of such a silly conversation. “For that, I can only feel sorry for her.”

…

The routine changes the following year.

It starts with an abrupt but expected conversation. One that Alexia has been dreading.

Your album – the first one that is just you – was released two months ago, and it has done too well. Selfishly, Alexia had hoped it would fail. You have enough money, and she is earning more and more each season. Success, unfortunately, means that this little life can no longer exist. Or can it?

“I have to do it,” you whisper to her, tears in your eyes though the smell of sex still lingers. The quietness of a child-free apartment allows for you to hear her gulp. “It’ll be different this time, darling, but I can’t be here anymore. I can’t fly out to London every few days. I can’t leave you with a five-month-old and a toddler when you are training every day and playing matches every weekend. It’s not fair on anyone.”

Alexia kisses your bare shoulder, hands slipping round your waist as she pulls your sweaty body into her. Her chest presses against your back, but she is only behind you in this bed. She does not agree with you. She does not support it. But, like she always does, she bites her tongue. “If that’s what you want,” she replies, and part of you dies with the thought that she does not really care. “I love you. I want what’s best for you. For us.” And she tells Jenni all about it when she goes to see her a week later – the flimsy excuse of meeting a childhood friend for dinner enough to wrap a cloth around your eyes and leave you at home with a screaming toddler and a baby whose only flaw is that she grows distraught the moment she is put down.

In the dimly lit living room, the tension hangs thick in the air. You lock eyes. “Why can't you just move with us? Everyone will want you, darling, and life would be easier,” you plead, a month down the line. The house in Highgate has been readied for your more permanent return.

Alexia takes a deep breath, her gaze unwavering. “Why can't you get it into your head that I'm not leaving Spain or Barcelona? This is my home.”

“What about the children? School? Life? My career? Does it mean nothing to you?”

Her eyes soften. Your heart breaks, and the piece of you that has already died somehow dies again. “I'm thinking of the children. All the time, I think of them. About the reputation of my name – their name. Putellas, the greatest in the world, or Putellas, the one with potential wasted at West Ham?”

“You're being selfish, Lex,” you snap. “This is an opportunity for all of us, not just me. Think about their future!”

“Their future is here, in the culture they know, the languages they speak. I won't strip them of their identity for the sake of a 'better' life. And my career? I've worked too hard to build what I have here. I won't throw it away.” I don’t want to throw it away. Underscored by Don’t leave me again.

The room echoes with the weight of her voice. “Their identity comes from both of us.” It’s too final for either of your liking. Elena begins to cry in her cot. “I want to try it. I want you to be open to trying it.”

She gestures to the suitcases by the door. “Trying it and doing it are two different things. You’re taking them from me!”

“You’re probably going to love life without them anyway!” you shout. You feel like the crying baby, except the tears rolling down your cheeks carry much more suffering than hers. “You’ll – what? You’ll go out with your friends, and you’ll be able to go to the gym whenever you want. No arguing, no crying, no toddler to entertain, no nappies to change. You never wanted children. I forced it upon you. I regret it, and I’m sorry. We’ll go.”

“Don’t go.”

I don’t want you to go.

“I have to.”

You turn your back to her as you fly through the corridor, prepared to console Elena in a taxi. Alexia slips her ring off her finger, and clutches it in her palm instead. Desperately, she searches for a solution. There is nothing within her reach, not even you.

…

She is an island amongst a sea of happy people. She is going to be the greatest footballer in the world. It kills her to realise that she can now focus on football.

Nico starts nursery, attending the same school you once did. He adjusts to life in London seamlessly, and Elena does not seem to care either way. He learns more English every day, and his other mother calls him nightly to read to him.

With childcare more than sorted, you are free to be interviewed, pictured, and invited to events. You rake in the publicity, especially after laying so slow over the course of the lockdown in Spain.

“Alexia.” Jenni’s hands knead her tight shoulders, partly teasing her. Alexia wears a frown, eyebrows knitting together with an emotion she’s not sure she can name. “Ale, it’s the same game as always. Nothing has changed.”

“I know,” she murmurs. “I don’t understand why I feel like this.” She has continued to speak to Sofía, though your joint sessions have now come to a halt while you spend your time doubling as a singer and model. The therapist, try as she might, cannot evaluate the situation effectively enough. Eli and Alba have both tried to help, hoping that weekly dinners and the constant reminder about the invention of aeroplanes would ease the turmoil of Alexia’s mind. It does not. “I am so alone, Jenni.”

Nala is too small to fill the emptiness of the flat. Screens don’t allow for her to kiss you, or play with Nico. She is scared she will miss Elena’s first words.

“You don’t have to be.”

It only takes a month for Alexia to break, and it sort of works.

In Jenni’s bed, it works. Hips keening, soft pants falling from her mouth.

Quiet moans that stay locked in Jenni’s apartment.

Each time Alexia leaves, though Jenni repeatedly requests that she stays, she walks out as half a woman. She blinks back her tears and she checks her phone. When she calls you – not a video call – you are never any the wiser to the scratches down her back.

Alexia remains an island, but the sand beaches are tainted with the arrival of someone else.

In this way, she is functional.

She can do sex. She can deal with borderline romance. She can fill the space that you are tearing open with every passing minute spent in that god-awful country you insist on calling home. She can fix it a little bit with Jenni.

She tells herself that it does not mean anything more than a bandage means to a wound. Who wears the bandage once the gash has healed?

Where does she put the used bandage?

Why is she focused on bandages?! She’s having an affair. It’s not an affair! (It is.) Alexia doesn’t… quite… wanttoadmititjustyet.

…

The buzz of your phone is the final push that gets you to conclude the current interview you are trapped in. Before checking what the notification is, you glance at the time. You have half an hour before you need to pick up Nico, and your parents said they would drop Elena home once they returned from London Zoo.

Alexia: Jenni has had a really good idea

It’s an intriguing text amongst the more practical ones that oil the mechanics of managing the distance. Tonight, Barcelona play their last match of the season. After this, she’ll be flying out to London. You have missed her. The last time you saw her in person was after Barcelona embarrassed Chelsea in Gothenburg. Elated and filled with pride, it was incredibly nice to have the biggest room in the hotel to yourselves. Her medal was almost as beautiful as her.

You: Go on…

Alexia: Just draw a heart on Nico’s hand from me porfa. You’ll see.

You slide into the driver’s seat of your newest self-indulgent car; a Porsche. Momentarily distracted by a camera flash, your turn onto the main road is a little risky, but you manage to make it to the school in time to collect your son.

“Was he good?” you ask his teacher as she hands you Nico’s book bag. You take in the sight of him: hair messy, school uniform stained though they require the little ones to wear aprons for most of the day. “It’s a little different here. I’m hoping that he’s enjoying himself.”

“Our new assistant is from Spain,” says the teacher with a small, tired smile, batting her long eyelashes at you. “We had to pry him off her.”

You let out a laugh. “He misses his mum.”

“He’s extremely intelligent. He knew to speak Spanish to her and English to us.” Though your grasp of Spanish is near-fluent after such reluctance from your wife to try English, you know that the two-year-old has a talent for juggling the three languages he is growing up around. You’re proud of him. “You shouldn’t worry about him. And, speaking of, we have a parents’ coffee morning just around the corner. It’s always great for the parents to get along – it helps the school feel even more like a family. Will it just be you attending?” Nico’s teacher is around your age, and you can smell her rose perfume that mingles with the soft hint of ready-mixed paint. She has deep, brown eyes, and she is definitely flirting with you.

“Next week, right? I’ll have to check with my wife.”

It’s then that a toddler-sized hand grips your fingers and tugs. “Mama, me voy,” he groans; something akin to Alexia’s impatience. It reminds you of when you used to go shopping and she’d herd you out with the threat of getting in the car and driving away. “Venga.”

“One sec, sweetheart.” There are countless ways in which you miss Alexia. “My wife and I would love to come.”

Her smile does not falter on her lips, but there is a greyish disappointment that dulls the warmth of her irises. You smile as you turn your back and lead Nico to the car. You are so excited for Alexia to complete the broken puzzle.

You melt when she kisses the heart drawn onto her hand when celebrating her goal. Nico copies her, lips pursing and sloppily mimicking the action on a similar heart. “For you, sweetheart,” you tell him as he settles back into your side, careful not to jostle Elena who has fallen asleep on your chest (the therapist did wonders for you).

“It was for you,” Jenni tells Alexia after the match. Her goal is now serving as the move Alexia feared she’d make. They have changed and been massaged and done the media the are required to do (women’s football is growing): they are free to roam Barcelona if they so wish.

Her flight is tomorrow evening – “I have a flight tomorrow evening.”

“Come over tonight.” It isn’t a question, yet it is not quite a command. Mapi passes the two of them, eyes narrowing at the way Jenni has wrapped her hand around Alexia’s wrist. The defender is aware that something is going on, though it breaks her heart to imagine Alexia ever doing that to you. Not knowing they are being watched, Alexia steps in; cups Jenni’s face, brushes her cheekbone with a stroke of her thumb Mapi knows is meant for her wife. Mapi’s stomach lurches. She feels sick.

“I need to…” It’s not a ‘no’. “Jenni.” She hates that it is not a ‘no’.

“Ale.” There’s a beat. Mapi blinks twice, shakes her head, and backs away. “I’ll miss you, you know?”

…

Jenni doesn’t seem to mind when, the next day, blurry pictures of you on a family outing make rounds through the tabloids she usually doesn’t read. The fact that, up until now, no one has known that your wife is Alexia Putellas has no effect on her. She was stupid for thinking the last six months meant something. Winning together, losing together. Sleeping together.

In this deal, Alexia has fucked over both women who love her. Except, you don’t know. She hasn’t told you, though Jenni had hoped for it secretly – hoped Alexia chose her – and it is obvious. Obvious to Jenni, who is well acquainted with the blonde hair in the wings of your concert at the O2. Obvious to Jenni, who refuses to think of herself as the other woman.

She consults Mapi.

Mapi, who she has come to shamefully realise already knows.

“I can’t believe the two of you.” The defender is clear in her distaste and disappointment and, honestly, her disgust. “But I am not going to be the one to break that poor girl’s heart.”

“I’m not asking you to.”

What is she asking? What does she want from this utterly useless conversation?

“Mapi.” Jenni closes her eyes, but she sees two faces instead of darkness. Nico. Elena. She’s Elena’s godmother. You decided that – convinced Alexia to choose her best friend over her younger sister, told your wife that there’d be another for Alba to corrupt. “Mapi, I love her. I don’t know what to do.”

“She loves her wife.” The next sentence proceeds to brutally remind Jenni who that isn’t. “Tell her you’re done. Find someone else. Anyone but her.”

That is Jenni’s resolve, because she knows that Mapi is right.

…

June, July, and August pass with bliss.

Everyone says that you are a beautiful couple with beautiful children. Alexia beams with pride as she flaunts her practised English, and gladly claims ownership of Nico when he wins a prize on speech day. Every child in Reception is awarded something but that doesn’t stop her from boasting.

She explores the country with the children while you shack up in the recording studio, and brings hugs and kisses (and Red Bull) every evening after dinner. The visits are what reminds you of the sun Alexia brings, especially as the warmth follows her from Barcelona and London is blessed with golden days. Dog days.

“This isn’t permanent.” Alexia looks up from her phone, comfortable in your bed. The house in Highgate has flecks of Spain woven into the decor now, and you like it that way.

You climb into the bed beside her, and her arm lifts so that you can snuggle into her chiselled stomach (wow, she has been working hard this season). “What’s Jenni saying?” you ask, following your statement and hoping you’ll get her attention. She presses her phone screen into the duvet before you can translate the message – it is too long of a paragraph for you to handle. “Anyway, I wanted to tell you that this isn’t permanent.”

Alexia, over the past few months, has been the most affectionate, loving, amazing person with the same smile and giggle you married. You thought she had disappeared and was replaced with stern, career-focused Alexia Putellas, jugadora del fútbol. You were wrong.

“I’m thinking January is when we’ll come back. Nico’s English will survive.” Your parents are going travelling. They’ve never been on the Orient Express before. “I want to be with you.”

It is a good thing Jenni has just broken up with her.

“I love you,” you continue. “So much.”

Alexia hums. Her heart breaks, and she does not know for whom. “¿En serio?” She is happy, she thinks. Certainly, she is glad that the four of you will be reunited.

You are.

January 2022 ruins things for Jenni Hermoso. She calls Pachuca back.

#barca femeni #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso #fc barcelona #woso imagines #mapi leon #jenni hermoso #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas

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queen-of-reptiles · 5 months

Text

𝚁𝚄𝙻𝙴𝚂

description: For Alexia, she had rules...

rule one: don't date teammates

rule two: don't give up

rule three: don't date your best friends siblings

rule four: ignore rule 1 and 3 for y/n hermoso

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Alexia Putellas x female reader

this is all fiction! Jenni and Alexia were never a thing in this au!

warnings: fluff, a little bit of angst, bad google translations of spanish !

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y/n just posted

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tagged fcbfemeni

y/n VAMOS BARCA! 6-0 ❤️💙

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username1: she is so hot i wanna cry 😭

username2: VAMOS VAMOS VAMOS ! ❤️💙❤️💙

username3: Tres goles para nuestra superestrella!!! 😱

three goals for our superstar

jennihermoso: Mi hermana menor ❤️🥹

my baby sister

y/n: te amooooooooo !! ❤️

love you

lucybronze: Little star!! 🌟🌟

y/n: my double assist bestie!!! ☄️

username4: Ella es tan linda! 😍😍

she's so pretty

username5: BODY YADA YADA YADA YADA 😛😛

username6: Su celebración del tercer gol fue demasiado divertida 😂

her third goal celebration was too funny

username7: ¿bien? su pequeña salsa 😂😂

right? her little salsa

marialeonn16: HERMOSOOOOOOOO!!!! 🩷

y/n: LEONNNNNNN!!!! 🩷

keirawalsh: I still have no clue what you said to me at half time... 🧐

y/n: you'll get it one day amiga! 😏

alexiaputellas: ❤️💙

y/n: ❤️🩷🫡

username8: want her body now please!! 😛

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y/n just posted on their story

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alexiaputellas just posted on their story

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y/n laughed as Mapi tumbled over, the defender getting her feet tangled as she tried to tackle y/n, the young Hermoso instead sending the tattooed blonde the wrong way and onto the ground.

y/n sent a cross into Alexia, the woman striking it past Cata and into the back of the net, meaning just as Jonatan called time, the playful training match coming to an end.

y/n cheered with her bib team, jumping on Aitana who was closest to her, the woman laughing and spinning the winger slightly as they celebrated.

Salma poked her tongue out at her friend, clearly annoyed at the playful loss, y/n just shook her head at Salma who laughed as she watched y/n get off Aitana.

An arm wrapped around y/n's shoulder and Alexia pulled the girl into her side, y/n's head coming onto her shoulder being just an inch shorter than her Captain.

"Perfecta como siempre mi estrella." Alexia hummed, relishing in the blush which fought its way up the woman's cheeks.

perfect as always my star

"Sólo porque la reina lo recibió." y/n countered with a smile.

only because the queen received it.

The use of the term usually made Alexia feel slightly shy, but whenever the words slipped from y/n's lips, something twisted in her stomach, a protective want that made Alexia want y/n to chant the name out in pants and groans beneath her.

As y/n turned to laugh at Mapi, Alexia shook her head of the thoughts which had started to push into her head, she looked up arm still wrapped around y/n only to see Lucy watching her with a knowing look.

The Brit seemed to have been able to sniff out the captain's crush since she stepped foot in Barcelona. The only other soul to know was Mapi, and that was an accident.

Alexia had gone out with the team and the one time she had decided to let loose, and drink she spilled the secret she had kept so close to her heart.

She was in love with y/n Hermoso, her team-mate, her striker, and worse, her best friend's little sister. Mapi had found her in the bathroom after two drinks.

Alexia didn't drink often so she didn't have a high tolerance and she was sat on the closed toilet lid, head in her hands as she tried to rid her impure thoughts while she tried to not think about y/n and the tight dress she was wearing.

When Mapi found her, she was scared her captain had hurt herself, but the woman just scoffed and blamed love for her injury, it didn't take Mapi long to figure it out after that.

Alexia rolled her eyes at Lucy, the Brit just sighing and looking away as y/n chased after Mapi, the blonde letting out a panicked shriek as y/n chased her down with her water bottle.

"Mierda." y/n cursed as she missed Mapi.

shit

Mapi turned back with an evil grin and before y/n could blink she was covered in ice cold water and Mapi was howling in amusement as she stood there shocked.

The rest of the team were all laughing along as y/n trudged back to them, a pout on her lips as she waved her hands in upset at her soaked body.

"Alexia." y/n whined but the captain shook her head.

"juega juegos estúpidos, ganas premios estúpidos, princesa." Alexia hummed, Mapi shouting in victory as y/n huffs.

play stupid games, you win stupid prizes, princess.

Suddenly y/n launches forward, her body jumping onto Alexia's back and pressing her cold wet shirt into the back of Alexia's dry one, the captain letting out a shout of annoyance.

"juega juegos estúpidos, ganas premios estúpidos, reina." y/n hums back.

play stupid games, you win stupid prizes, queen.

Alexia huffs and rolls her eyes but her hands come up to hold y/n's thighs, walking them both toward the changing rooms which once they arrive in, y/n hops off.

Lucy laughs at y/n as she rips her wet top off, flinging it at the now shouting Lucy. y/n ignores the complaining older woman and moves to the showers, unaware of her staring captain.

Alexia wondered if she hadn't seen y/n shirtless in a while, but the once faint outline of abs, were now a chiselled picture on her stomach, the rest of the toned muscles hidden behind her sports bra.

"You're drooling, la reina." Lucy mutters to Alexia, and the captain glares at her.

"Shut up." She sighs.

Once the group were all changed, a large group of them made their way toward the exit, the Barcelona sun still dangling high in the air, trying to keep as much of the day alive as possible.

y/n was talking to Ingrid when she saw her, a body lent against her car, a familiar body who when y/n let out a shocked call looked up grinning.

"Jenni!" y/n yelled, racing over at her sister, the two meeting in a very tight hug, it becoming impossible to define where one sister started and the other met.

If there was one thing that was known of the Hermoso siblings, it was that they were incredibly close. And since they no longer played at the same club, the two were known to visit each other as often as possible.

Jenni's move was tough on her younger sister, the two having been depressed from days at the beginning when they weren't together everyday.

While the two had now become used to the distance, the shock of seeing her sister was still an incredibly grateful one for y/n, especially when they had a day off the next day.

"¿Qué estás haciendo aquí?" y/n asked her sister as they pulled away. The group coming over and hugging their friend one by one.

what are you doing here?

"Me jalé el muslo, estoy bien antes de que te preocupes. Simplemente no jugaré durante las próximas semanas." Jenni explains as her sister kisses her cheek again.

pulled my thigh, i'm okay before you worry. Just no playing for a few weeks.

"¡perfecto! ¡Puedes unirte a nosotros esta noche!" Mapi grins.

perfect, you can join us out tonight

Jenni laughs but nods, knowing there was no saying no to Mapi Leon, and y/n grins as the group agrees to meet in several hours at their usual place.

As y/n starts packing her car and the others depart, no one notices the shared look between, Lucy, Mapi and Jenni, no one other than Alexia herself.

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y/n just posted

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tagged jennihermoso

y/n Mira quién vino de visita!

look who came to visit

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username1: AWWWWWWW 🥹😍

username2: my fav sister duo!!!! 🥹🥹

lucybronze: Ready for tonight!!!

y/n: 😏💙

marialeonn16: 🥹🥹

y/n: 🥹🥹

jennihermoso: ❤️

y/n: ❤️

username3: 😊😊😩

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jennihermoso just posted on her story

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y/n just posted on their story

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Jenni sat happily sipping her drink, watching her sister who laughed as Mapi picked up another four uno cards. The group were at a small beach-side bar.

It was a usual for the group to go and relax, they didn't have to drink or party and were warned against it during the season so the bar here was perfect for them to relax but still be out.

Jenni was sat next to Alexia and Lucy, the latter talking with Keira about something funny that her nephew had done, Alexia was just sat watching y/n.

"So, will we talk about it?" Jenni asks Alexia, using English as she knew if her sister was to overhear, which would be doubtful, she would have a harder time picking out English words, not as fluent as her sister.

"Talk about what?" Alexia asks, turning to face her best friend, her face stone cold.

"Your feelings for my sister." Jenni shrugged and if she hadn't have known Alexia so well, she wouldn't have seen the slip in her cold mask.

"Jenni." Alexia sighed, clearly not having the strength to lie to her.

"It's okay, amiga." Jenni tried, knowing how much Alexia hated being overly vulnerable. "It's okay." She adds.

Lucy and Keira move with a shared look, understanding their captain deserved privacy in this moment, the two opting to join the rest of the group who were watching the intense Uno game happening.

"Rule one, don't date teammates. Rule two, don't give up. Rule three, don't date your best friend's siblings." Alexia denies, her voice void of any emotion.

The captain knew as soon as she slipped from her cold mask Jenni would see. She would be able to see the pleading in her eyes, the captain would be begging to be with her sister if not for her rules.

"Rule four, ignore rules 1 and 3 for y/n Hermoso." Jenni says simply.

Alexia and Jenni never had to say much to each other, they both preferred it that way and with that sentence Alexia could have cried.

She looked over at her best friend who smiled softly as if promising it was okay. Alexia gripped her best friend's hand, grateful for her more than she would be able to voice.

"Now, you must swallow your pride amiga, and your stupid rules." Jenni warns as she nods to her sister, who had bowed out of Uno and gone to get another drink.

Alexia nodded and moved quickly, smoothly gliding next to y/n as she thanked the bartender for her new drink.

"Hola Ale." y/n smiled as she looked up at her captain.

"¿Quieres salir a caminar?" Alexia asked softly, and the look in her eyes had y/n nodding and placing her drink down as they left the bar.

do you want to go for a walk?

The two found themselves walking hand-in-hand down the beach, the crisp Barcelona air still warm, even with the inky sky above them reminding them of the time.

They talked quietly, their conversation flowing easily as they talked of anything that came to mind. But as y/n giggled at a joke Alexia had made, the captain could no longer keep her rules.

"Sal conmigo." Alexia said softly, not even realising it had slipped from her lips.

date me.

y/n paused, her body tensing as Alexia stopped, cursing herself in her mind for how un-romantically she had said that, an entire speech had been brewing in her mind but instead she said that.

"qué?" y/n asked.

what?

"Sal conmigo." Alexia repeated, stronger this time. While stil not what she wanted to say it was progress.

date me.

"¿Qué pasa con tus reglas?" y/n asked rush, holding up three fingers to show she knew the three.

what about your rules?

"¿Quién te habló de ellas?" Alexia questioned annoyed.

who told you about them?

"Mapi." y/n admitted sheepishly, Alexia sighing.

"Mapi." The woman nodded.

Alexia bit her lip and stepped closer to y/n, her hand coming up to take hold of the woman's waist, giving her time to pull away, but when she didn't, Alexia pulled her closer.

"Eres tan hermosa que duele, juegas como nadie que haya visto jamás y podrías llenar el océano con cosas que sabes. Pero no podrías llenar el océano con mis sentimientos por ti, porque ni siquiera los océanos tienen suficiente espacio para ellos." Alexia whispers.

You're so beautiful it hurts, you play like no one I have ever seen, and you could fill the ocean with things you know.

But you couldn't fill the ocean with my feelings for you, because not even the oceans have enough space for them.

Her speech was much closer to what she had wanted to say and y/n sucked in a shaky breath, her hands coming up to cup Alexia's face, as if trying to reassure herself this was real.

"regla cuatro, ignora las reglas uno y tres si eres t/n Hermoso." Alexia whispered.

rule four, ignore rules one and three if it's y/n Hermoso

y/n smiled softly, her thumb rubbing circles on Alexia's cheek as she pressed her forehead against her captain's.

"Bueno, entonces estoy de acuerdo con la regla cuatro." y/n giggled softly.

well, i agree with rule four then.

Alexia let out a breath laugh, her nose brushing y/n's as she did so, her hand tightening around her waist as the other came up to rest behind her neck.

"¿puedo besarte?" Alexia whispered.

can i kiss you?

"Por favor." y/n pleaded and Alexia needed no more.

please.

Her lips pushed against y/n's softly slotting them together as she pulled her tighter to her body, she took it no further, despite her body begging her too, simply for now having their lips together was enough.

And suddenly, Alexia was very grateful for rule four.

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y/n just posted on their story

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alexiaputellas just posted

liked by jennihermoso, marialeonn16 and 478, 327 others

tagged y/n

alexiaputellas mi amor

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y/n just posted

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tagged alexiaputellas

y/n A la mierda las reglas uno y tres

fuck rules one and three

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END

kicking my feet giggling nd shit at this one

loved writing this cannot lie

two requests in one on this one!

Thank you for all the requests ! I will do my best to work through them!

Queenie xo

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pinkyqil · 17 days

Text

Step by step | a.Putellas x j.Hermoso

Hidden secrets series

Warning: a lil angst,comfort,acl mention not really but yea

It was around midnight when jenni had received alexia messages. the moments she saw pictures of the ultrasound and pregnancy test. she went through five stages of different emotions.

She and the blonde woman had been trying for ages but had recently taken a break from ivf and each other for a while now.

But right now jenni knew alexia needed her more than ever even though she would never admit to it.

Jenni found herself staring down on her phone to reply too alexia message wanting to know if she was alright.

mi amor 💕 : ale ¿Estás bien? ¿Está todo bien?

A while later that she had sent her messages to alexia stil wanting for the other woman's reply. panic started to fuel her body as it been a few long hours since she's sent her messages at that moment.

And that how she found herself booking a 10 hour flight from mexico to spain. She needed to know that alexia was alright especially when her plate seems too be filled with a lot of stuff going on for her at the moment. Once she booked her flight she started to pack stuff that'll she probably would need. has her flight was in a few hours.

Finally arriving at the airport she checked her phone one last time to see if alexia had reply but was met with nothing.

The flight from mexico to spain was very hectic but jenni was able to manage through it.

Alexia on the other hand hadn't seen jenni's messages yet,has she refused to look at her phone one bit. Her heart wouldn't be able to handle whatever jenni wrote she thought.

But what she hasn't expected would be the knock on her front door. alexia wasn't expecting anyone and if she was,she would have known plus her mom and sister had spare keys to her place. She wasn't in the mood to get up and open the door but definitely had no choice as the knocking became louder and aggressive.

Jenni who was on the other side of the door honestly had no idea why she infront of alexia place this late.

she could've headed to her hotel but her mind wonder differ.

The moment alexia opened the door it was closed faster than she could make a goal. Her mind was all over the place,it couldn't be her head just playing random games with her or it was the hormones. Jenni was definitely not outside her house she was living in mexico for heaven sake alexia thought to herself.

Jen on the other side started speaking."Alexia please open the door all I want to do is talk you haven't been answering my messages".

oh she was an idiot alexia thought to herself again why couldn't she answer her. now she had to deal with this jenni was always some who worried a lot and went beyond doing things.

After giving herself a moment she finally opened the door inviting jenni in. they both sat in awkward silence.

Before one of them spoke up getting interrupted by the other trying to also get a word out.

both women found themselves laughing at their situation.

This time it was alexia who finally spoke up." I'm sorry for not responding or calling and instead letting it all on you expecting you to figure it out yourself i just needed a moment to myself cause the day I found out would also be the day i had let you know it was all too much for me to handle".

"oh ale it all alright i don't think would probably be able to deal with all that in one day you are definitely one strong woman". jenni said embracing the other woman into a hug.

"So what are you doing all the way in spain aren't you meant to be somewhere in mexico". she asked with a grin on her face.

"Do you really think I would have your hothead deal with all this alone you had me very worried when you didn't answer and i did the most logical thing anyone could think of".

"So traveling all the way too spain is the most logically thing you could think of instead of calling me". Jenni gave the woman across her the most unamused face when she had finished her sentence.

"Matter of fact don't answer that". alexia said with a smile on her face.

The couple found themselves embracing each other for some sort of comfort. jenni found herself cuddling into alexia from waist down getting a warm buzzing feeling.

"So where having a baby" jenni asked while looking up at alexia.

Alexia could only nod her head at the other woman's word. Too busy to say anything else jenni and alexia found themselves looking each other in the eyes, before she knows it she felt another pair of lips on hers. pulling her into a deep kiss.

Finally done they both pulled away too busy blushing like those rom com movies.

"Wanna go for a drive and get some food you must be really hungry after your flight". alexia asked jenni who quickly nodded.

The couple once again found themselves in the car enjoying a Pa amb tomàquet sandwiches one of alexia favorite also something she had been craving for.

"So does anybody else know".jenni found herself asking alexia a question that been on her mind all day.

"Nope only mi mamí".alexia said before taking another bite out of her sandwich.jenni nodded understanding what alexia meant.

"You know that your always welcomed to stay at my place that if you want too".

"What made you think that I would leave your stubborn head alone". jenni said snickering at alexia before they both busted out laughing knowing jenni was right. She would never leave alexia nor let her get loose.

After finishing eating up the remaining of their food.they both found themselves entwine their hands together and letting in the moment before going home.

They were going to figure out everything together step by step or would they ?

A/n: chap 2 finally done hope you all enjoy it has much has I did writing it,honestly proud of this bit ale and jen have it all figure out or there's more to it all. and as always opinion ideas,asks or anything you would like to see happen in the serie are always welcome 🫶

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valewosomtb · 1 month

Text

here to stay - j.hermoso x reader

warnings: none

Today was the day you finally saw the love of your life after almost 4 months. It's hard being away from your favorite person, but when you finally see each other after a long period of not being able to, you appreciate the time you have with them. Since you play for FC Barcelona and she plays for Tigres UANL Women in Mexico, it's hard, but it does for sure keep you on your toes.

Jenni was coming to Barcelona for the next two weeks, and you couldn't be more excited for her since you missed everything about her: her perfect smile, her perfect eyes, her stupid yet somehow funny dad jokes, but most of all, you missed her touch. Not just for making you feel good, but also because her touch makes you feel safe.

You were waiting for her in the airport parking lot, leaning on the side of your car, looking at your phone playing some weird-ass game just to pass the time until she comes out. But since you were so into your game, you could say that you lost track of time.

„As I can see, you didn't miss me that much and you wouldn't mind if I just turn around and go back to Mexico?“ you heard the voice of your beautiful girlfriend. You looked up from your phone with the biggest smile on your face as she was approaching you with a smile on her face. As you were jumping into her arms, she dropped all the bags she had in her hand just to catch you and hold you under the thighs.

„My baby is home!“ you said while hugging her tightly, and just for a second, you pulled away a little, looking her dead in the eyes. „Don't ever say I didn't miss you because you know damn well I wouldn't let you back… at that place I don't like talking about,“ you told her with a serious look, but she was just looking at you with a soft look, and you started blushing. Even after all this time, she still makes you nervous. You were seriously in love with her.

She slowly put you down but still kept you close. „I like this chit-chat or whatever, but I would really love it if this gorgeous girl I missed so much could just shut up and kiss me already,“ she said and pulled you even closer to her, if that was possible. You just rolled your eyes with a smile on your face, then you put your arms around her neck and kissed her softly. As your lips touched, you melted into her even more; you just now realized how much you actually missed her. She bit your lips a little, and it made you moan into her mouth. She took that chance to slip her tongue into your mouth. Things were getting quite heated at this point, and you being in the middle of the parking lot wasn't helping a lot. Unfortunately, you had to pull away even though you REALLY didn't want to.

„As much as I would LOVE to continue this, it's better if we went home,“ you said breathlessly after that short but hot make-out session. Jenni just smirked at you but agreed. She put her bags into the trunk. As she was coming to sit in the passenger seat, you handed her the keys, „I would really appreciate it if you drove us home,“ you said and gave her a sweet grin. She just shook her head and pecked your cheek. She knew how much you hated driving, but you definitely loved being her little passenger princess. She opened the doors for you and helped you into the car. You were driving in comfortable silence, with her holding your hand the whole time, never letting you go. She was concentrated on the road, and you took this chance to really look at her. She felt you staring at her, took a quick look at you, and turned a little red when she saw how big-hearted you were looking at her.

„Why are you looking at me like that?“ she said when she turned her attention to the road.

„I just missed you a lot… and I really love you. That's pretty much it, oh and you're really pretty,“ you said, still looking at her. At this point, you were sitting sideways in your seat, still holding her hand in your lap. You took her hand closer to your lips and kissed the back of her hand. She stopped at the red light, and then looked at you with this look you never saw before. She leaned over and gave you a quick but loving kiss. „I really love you too, mi vida,“ she said softly.

You were just staring at each other, like two teenagers in love. You both forgot where you were until the car behind you started honking and ruined the perfect moment.

You were almost home when you got a message from Alexia.

Alexia: Everything is ready, have fun!!

You: Thank you so much, Ale. I owe you big time!!

Alexia: Don't worry about it, I just love to see my two best friends happy!!

You turned off your phone as you were about to pull up to your drive way. Jenni was quick to get out of the car and opened the door for you. You'll never get enough of this princess treatment. She was getting her bags out of the trunk as you were about to help her with one of the bags, she smacked your hand away. Apparently she didn't want you to carry any heavy stuff so you don't hurt yourself.

„You know it's not that heavy and I wanna help you“ you said as she was clearly struggling with the bags.

„No. You are my princess and you don't get to tire yourself.“ She said as she was approaching the door. You were still standing next to the car with crossed arms and with the keys to the house. Jenni put one of the bags on the floor and looked for the keys, completely oblivious thay you were walking slowly towards her with keys in your hand.

You stood next to her and handed her the keys, „Do you also want to do this by yourself or will you let me at least open the doors for you?“ you asked with a raised eyebrow. She was never one to ask for help; she did everything by herself, even when she was clearly struggling. In her opinion, asking for help was for the weak. You always rolled your eyes at that.

She took a deep sigh, „Okay, you open the door… but only this time.“ You unlocked the door and let her in first.

As you got inside after her and saw the house set up, the table was ready with plates, wine glasses, and the wine cooling off in the wine cooler. There were also blankets laid out on the floor in front of the fireplace. „Thank you, Alexia Putellas,“ you thought to yourself.

Jenni put all of her stuff on the floor and took a look around the house. „Did you do all of this?“

Suddenly, you got nervous and shy. „Well, I had a little help but yeah,“ you said while rubbing your neck. You watched as Jenni finally turned to you; she walked slowly towards you, then took both of your hands and made you look up at her.

„I don't deserve you. Why did you do all this?“ she said while softly looking at you. There's that look you can't describe again.

„Well, I thought it was my time to spoil you finally. You're always the one spoiling me, and don't think I don't love it because I do… But, I don't know, I just want to show you how much I love you and since you always say I'm your princess… I wanted to show you that to me you are my queen, and I wanna treat you right,“ you were explaining to her. She smiled at you, even started blushing.

As you were telling her everything, you were calming down, „You're the love of my life, Jenni. After everything we've been through, actually let me get that correct, after everything I put YOU through, I thought it was time to show you how much I appreciate you.“ You finished with a shy smile and looked down because of the embarrassment.

You felt Jenni put her finger under your chin and made you look at her. As you looked into her eyes, the only thing you saw was love. At that moment, you just knew you wanted to spend the rest of your life with her. You saw a single tear fall down her cheek, and you were quick to wipe it off. „Don't cry, baby, please. I didn't mean to make you cry, I'm so sorry,“ you were apologizing, and she chuckled a little as she stopped your apologies.

„I already told you have to stop apologizing for everything. But these are happy tears. I've never had anyone do something like this to me, I wasn't expecting anything like this when I was coming here. „ she said with a small sniffle in between.

„See, this is why I think I should've done this before.“

„You shouldn't have to do this at all…“

„But I should've, and I did, Jenni…“ you started to say as you put both of your hands on her cheeks to make sure this got into that thick skull of hers, „…you're incredible, strong, beautiful, thoughtful, selfless, gorgeous, amazing person. I'm sad to hear that no one ever showed you how much you're worth and how much you deserve everything good in your life. You're one of the few things that's good in this messed-up world… I haven't done something like this before, but I'll make sure I do plenty of this in the future.“ You have never been more serious than this in your life. You have never made promises because you were scared you would break them, but when you did make a promise, you always fulfilled it.

Jenni was speechless, she really didn't know what to say, but she SHOWED you what she feels. You kissed a lot of times but this kiss was something different, something new. You could literally feel every single emotion she felt in that moment. It almost made you tear up.

You finally pulled away, she gave you one more peck on the lips before you totally pulled away. „I love you so much, y/n“

„I love you too, Jenni“ you just hugged for a while after that.

„We better start eating that food Alex- I mean I made“ you said pulling away from her.

„Don't have to lie to me, I know you can't cook. And I doubt you learned how to cook in 4 months“

„Hey, I did TRY to learn..but clearly I'm not made for being in kitchen. You know , 2 months ago when I called you in the middle of the night when I was at the hospital because I got hit with a ball really hard and I got concussion?“ you asked and she just nodded her head, „I was actually trying to learn to cook a sauce of some kind and as I was putting the bowl on the kitchen counter I actually missed the counter and the sauce got all over the floor. I went to get something to clean it with and then I possibly maybe slipped on it and fell on my back with a big ass bang on the floor with my head…and that's actually the reason why I was at the hospital…“

Jenni just started to laugh and you couldn't help yourself and started to laugh with her.

She laughed so hard she had to wipe her eyes from tearing up, „oh baby, i think it's better if you don't step into the kitchen at all“ she gave you a forehead kiss.

„let's eat now“ she pulled you towards the table.

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After the dinner, you were chilling in the living room. Cuddled up, with an empty wine bottle next to you, laying on the blankets. You were laying on her chest with her arm around you as she was playing with your hair and you were talking about anything that came up to your mind. She was never really a talker but she was definitely a listener.

You made yourself sit up so you can look at her better, „ So, what does my queen wanna do tomorrow?“

„I dont know, but if you're too scared to ask la reina by herself i can do it for you, let me just go grab my phone“ she joked and you just slapped her arm playfully. She just chuckled at you.

„You're literally the most unfunny person ever. But seriously, what do you wanna do tomorrow? I wanna make the most of it in the next two weeks“ you asked her.

Then Jenni sat up and scratched her neck nervously, „actually there's something I have to tell you“

You got all nervous, „what is it? Do you have to go to Mexico sooner?? Because if you do I'll literally beat your ass right now“ you said dead serious.

„ It is related to my stay here , but it's not what you think“

„Jenni Hermoso, i swear if you don't spill it out there will be consequences.“

„okay, okay calm down damn.. I'm actually here to sigh my 2 year contract with Barca.“ She said with a big smile on her face.

Your jaw hit the floor, you were staring at her blankly. She had to help you with closing your jaw, but it was no help it just opened again.

„Y/n, you here? „ She started to wave in front of your face „do you hear me?“

It took you a while to actually realize what she said. When you processed that information, you jumped on her.

„WE'RE FINALLY GONNA BE TEAMMATES“ you hugged her tightly

„ah she's back“ jenni laughed „ yes, we are going to be teammates.“

When you pulled away you had to ask her, „does anyone else know about this?“

Jenni rarely lies but when she is lying you know it immediately. So when she started to shake her head without saying anything, you knew something was up.

„So if I ask Alexia if she knew anything about this she'll deny it?“ you asked with a raised eyebrow.

Jenni just sighed in defeat, „fine, alexia knows about this but she's the only one.“

You couldn't be angry at her since Alexia and her were best friends since forever. Besides that you were just happy you'll never have to watch her leave you again. Those last few hours before she had to go back to Mexico were the worst, you would just sit in her lap curled up crying your eyes out while she was just holding you.

„ You're really staying here? With me? In Barcelona?“ you wrapped your hands around her neck, straddling her legs. She was rubbing your thighs as you were playing with the baby hairs.

She smiled at you, „Right here where I belong.“ She finally pulled you into a kiss. You kissed her back immediately, you sighed happily. She pulled you closer now sitting in her lap, with her hands basically on your ass.

The soft kiss turned heated really fast, she switched postions so you were under her. You pulled away because you needed air but she continued to kiss you down your neck, „We should take the celebration into the bedroom, don't you think?“ you asked breathlessly.

She pulled away with a smirk on her face, „What if we celebrated here and in the bedroom? I definitely like my idea better“

You smirked back, „ Have i ever told you I love how you think?“

She just giggled as she leaned in again kissing you. You knew you were in for a long night. But you most certainly didn't mind. The most important thing is that you'll never have to watch her bord that plane and leave you behind. You were ready to spend the rest of your life with her. But, the question is…is Jenni ready to spend the rest of her life with YOU?

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there might be or might not be pt. 2

#woso #woso imagine #woso x reader #jenni hermoso #jenni hermoso x reader #espwnt #barca femeni #fc barcelona femeni #barça femeni #sefutbol fem

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