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Summary: What was once a simple plan is no longer simple—because the cold, distant husband undeniably cares. More than anything. And now, he’s hellbent on finding the ‘kidnapper’ before he’d ever consider divorcing her.
contains: angst, fluff, implied unhappy marriage, Carlos Sr is the villain because I needed one, reader can speak but is selectively mute, marriage of convenience or is it? Part 2 of When The Phone Rings
Carlos (initially) and his family think the reader can't speak. The only people who are aware that she can speak is her mother and her friend, Alexandra. Alexandra is the only person the reader speaks to. Alexandra is Alexandra Saint-Mleux. Reyes is Carlos' mother. Brenda and Spencer are made-up names
For a brief moment, all Carlos sees is his world holding her breath.
Phone in hand, eyes full of tears, staring at him.
Carlos' eyes move before his body, catching (Name) hurriedly putting a device– something that doesn't look like her phone– into her bag.
Then his body moves before mind, in great haste, just in time to catch her as she stumbles, dangerously close to the edge of the rooftop.
His thoughts return only after she's in his arms, steady and safe, against his chest.
She was about to fall. What was she even doing here? Was she trying to–
Carlos shuts the thought down by holding (Name) tighter. At first, all he feels is her heartbeat. Rapid. Frantic. Then come her arms, trembling and hesitant, wrapping around him.
When he pulls back, one thought rises above the rest.
The kidnapper.
"Are you okay?" Carlos asks, voice unsteady, almost broken, but audible now.
The memory of that unknown device by her ear slips from his mind. Her tears are the only thing he can see.
(Name) doesn't say anything, not out loud. Of course not. Like always, she pulls out her phone. But this time, Carlos notices something. Her lips moving, ever so slightly. As if she wanted to speak. As if she almost did.
'I am fine,' her phone reads.
Carlos nods but keeps her close. "Did you see anyone suspicious? Did anyone say anything to you?"
(Name) types again, quickly. 'No one was here.' She shakes her head for good measure.
Carlos nods again, though something in him remains uneasy. His phone buzzes and he tells (Name) to head back to the party. She hesitates before walking away. And as she glances back, her eyes, no longer teary, meets his.
His phone crackles in his hand. "–the signal was coming from this building, sir. Somewhere high. Possibly a rooftop."
Carlos freezes.
A Rooftop.
He spins around, searching. But he finds no one; only the back of (Name), stepping into the lift.
He runs to the door as they start to close. She's looking at him with something unreadable.
Fear?
***
The call comes as Carlos walks through the small park behind the venue. He was expecting it.
He doesn't pick up right away. When he does, it's his voice that strikes first. "That was quite an emotional performance earlier. You surprised me, kidnapper." His voice is now stable, steady. "You almost…sounded like someone else."
A pause. Then, a breath. Sharp. Surprised.
Good, he thinks.
"I don't know what you're talking about," the voice replies.
Carlos simply laughs.
***
(Name) stares at her phone.
Before she can reply, she spots him, standing across the street, waiting for the kidnapper's, her, response.
Panicked, she ducks behind a tree.
She doesn't hear what he says next, only catches the faint sound of his laughter. Something about running away.
(Name) is about to respond when she hears it.
A loud engine.
A truck. Speeding towards Carlos.
Her phone slips from her hand. She screams.
***
Carlos turns around, startled.
Someone screamed his name. And for a second, it sounded like–
Her voice. The one from his dreams.
But all he sees is (Name). And then, the scream again.
A moment later, she's on top of him and both of them are on the ground.
Carlos stares past her shoulder. A truck moving past the same spot he was moments ago.
She saved me.
He's speechless as (Name) helps him to his feet. He feels her hands check over him frantically, as if ensuring he's really still here.
Then, a slap.
Carlos blinks at her in disbelief, just as she shoves her phone towards him.
'What were you thinking?! You could've died!'
She is crying by now, in that quiet, trembling way that always breaks him.
Carlos pulls her into his arms.
***
In the car, (Name) can't stop sobbing.
He almost died. Because of her. Because of her stupid plan.
Beside her, Carlos lets out a choked laugh.
She turns to him in disbelief. He is….laughing?….at her tears?
Carlos shakes his head with a faint smile. "(Name) can make sound," he says softly, like he can't believe it himself.
(Name) freezes.
***
"You made a sound," he says again, the words tumbling out, chasing his smile.
(Name) can make sounds.
One moment, Carlos is smiling at this thought. And then suddenly, he leans back as the realization settles in.
This time, the adrenaline sharpens his memory instead of dulling it.
Everything comes back. (Name)'s terrified eyes. That scream. He didn't imagine it, it was her.
"You can speak," he murmurs, more to himself than to her. (Name)'s eyes widen when he cups her face gently.
"That scream…it was you." She doesn't reply. "Please," his voice sounds sincere and so full of love, "say something. Anything. Just say my name…please."
It nearly breaks her.
(Name) lowers her gaze and types out the only words she can manage: 'I can't.'
Carlos leans back in frustration. (Name) watches him anxiously, afraid he'll do something rash.
But then– he takes her hand. His grip is warm. Steady.
"I know I haven't been the best husband," he says quietly. "I've been distant. Cold. I never gave you a reason to trust me."
His thumb brushes her knuckles.
"But I promise you, I'm going to change that. I will become someone you can speak to. Someone you can trust with your voice."
(Name) can tell he is being genuine.
And she hopes he'll never be able to keep that promise.
Carlos made up his mind even before he started. If this didn't work out, he was blaming Spencer and Brenda.
Maybe it's his fault for asking his assistants for help in the first place. He just hoped they wouldn't end up broadcasting to the entire team that he is married. At least he had been wise enough not to mention who he was married to.
Their grand suggestion for a gift?
Bracelets.
Carlos laughed at first. He almost left without hearing them out. A bracelet? He could've thought of that himself.
But then Brenda and Spencer explained. Not just any bracelet– a handmade one. Something personal. Something that would carry meaning simply because he made it. And, surprisingly, Carlos couldn't argue with that.
So for the past week, he had spent his free time being surrounded by beads, knots and threads.
Matching bracelets– one for himself, one for her.
It's not…. perfect. Or the prettiest. In fact, it looked more like a highschool project than a romantic gestures. But it was his. And he hoped, really hoped, she'd see the effort behind it.
Only….it didn't fit.
Now, standing in front of her, Carlos wants the earth to open up and swallow him whole.
The bracelet is too small and it's all his doing.
(Name) give him a small, awkward smile, still trying to twist it around her wrist to make it fit somehow. But it won't. Clearly, it's too tight.
Carlos tries to leave but (Name) grabs his hand. With her other hand, she types on her phone.
'Let's fix this. Together.'
And that's what they do for the next two hours. Undoing knots, sorting beads, figuring things out. Together.
It takes far more time that it should. They ruin it three times. The fourth attempt almost gets scrapped halfway through.
But eventually, they get it right.
It's still not perfect. Or polished. Or the prettiest. But it fits.
And it match the one on Carlos' wrist.
And mostly importantly, they made it together.
In the next team meeting, Carlos notices (Name) wearing it. And in the next one. And the one after that.
He catches himself smiling everytime he sees it on her wrist. Brenda and Spencer can't help asking, "Why are you grinning like that all the time now?"
Carlos simply shakes his head and readjusts the bracelet on his own wrist. "No reason."
But he knows the reason. And that's enough.
Carlos had no intention of attending.
'Williams day', an event meant for team bonding, never really interested him. It's more of a tradition than necessity– games, laughter, photos and the sort of things Carlos rarely had time or patience for.
Naturally, he was invited. As the team's star driver, it would have been odd not to include him. But everyone assumed, based on last year, that he wouldn't show up.
They would've been correct– if he hadn't overheard something.
Two days before the event, Carlos heard Alexandria talking to Charles.
"(Name) seems really excited for Williams Day," she said with a smile.
And just like that, Carlos changed his mind.
On the morning of the event, no one looks more stunned than (Name) when Carlos shows up.
"I can come too, right?" Carlos asks casually.
Everyone quickly nods, still too surprised to form actual sentences. But it's (Name)'s wide eyed expression that catches Carlos' attention. Clearly, she hadn't expected him to come. Probably never even considered it.
He offers her a small smile.
***
Throughout the day, Carlos stays close to (Name), confusing nearly everyone. People whisper, trying to figure out why he—of all people—is here, and why he’s glued to her side.
Most assume he’s just being polite. Maybe he’s worried she’ll feel left out.
That’s fine, Carlos thinks. Let them think what they want.
On the bus ride over, he notices it again.
“Why is he sitting with her?” someone murmurs. “Isn’t he married?”
Ah. So Spencer and Brenda must’ve let that detail slip. No matter. They can speculate all they like.
(Name) is asleep on his shoulder and that's all that matters right now.
***
It wouldn’t be a proper team bonding event without games and Carlos isn’t surprised when someone brings out jump ropes for a round of double dutch.
As a senior team member, he gets the first pick. Without hesitation, he chooses (Name) as his partner.
She blinks up at him, clearly uncertain. Carlos gives her hand a gentle squeeze.
“We’ll be fine,” he says, more to himself than her.
They walk toward the ropes together, ignoring the looks cast their way.
Some surprised. Others… not so kind.
***
Double Dutch, Carlos quickly realizes, is much harder than it looks.
He stumbles twice and nearly drags them both down.
But (Name) just laughs. The sound surprises him. Warms him.
The more they jump, the more she laughs. And Carlos, hopelessly enchanted, finds himself grinning too.
***
It happens in a heartbeat.
Carlos mistimes a jump, and they fall to the ground. He lands awkwardly, with (Name) on top of him.
He braces for frustration or embarrassment.
Instead, she laughs, even harder, and buries her face in his chest.
Carlos glances around. The stares are sharper now– confused, skeptical, even judgemental.
But he doesn't care.
(Name) is smiling. And for Carlos, that's enough.
This dinner was bound to be tense, especially after what happened last time. Carlos only agreed to attend because his mother personally asked him.
(Name) spends most of the dinner as she had before– quiet, polite, answering only when necessary with small smiles and messages typed on her phone. Carlos isn't much different. He responds to his mother's questions with short, uninterested answers.
And then, Reyes turns her attention to (Name).
"(Name)," she starts, "the elections are approaching. It would be best if you stepped down from the Williams job for now."
Her tone is sweet but her eyes hold no warmth.
(Name)'s gaze flickers to Carlos Sr., who has been disturbingly quiet throughout the dinner, staring right at her as if he's waiting for her to break.
It's not a request. There's no choice being offered.
(Name)'s fingers hover over her phone, already prepared to nod. She knows her opinion won't matter to them anyway.
But Carlos reaches under the table and gently takes her hand. She looks at him, surprised.
"Do you want to quit the job?" he asks softly. Low and reassuring.
Her eyes flick to Carlos Sr. again. Her Carlos gives her a small squeeze, silently telling her she has nothing to fear– not with him here.
With that silent reassurance, (Name) slowly shakes her head, then types into her phone:
'I don't want to quit.'
Carlos nods and looks at his parents. "She doesn't want to quit. So she won't."
"Carlos…." Reyes says in tone laced with warning. But Carlos simply returns to his plate.
(Name) glances at Carlos' father, who is clenching his fists tightly under the table. Reyes leans toward him, trying to calm him but he says nothing.
(Name) lowers her eyes to her food, though her appetite is gone. She can't stop thinking about her father-in-law, about what his silence could mean.
Then Carlos, noticing her unease, lifts a spoonful of food and gently gestures for her to eat. She does, almost absently, only realizing she's finished when he pushes a glass of water towards her.
She signs a thank you to him before remembering he doesn't know sign language, not yet at least. She reaches for her phone.
But Carlos stops her.
Then he smiles, a little uncertain, takes a breath and slowly signs:
'You're welcome.'
(Name)'s eyes widen, then brighten with delight. A smile forms on her face. She signs– quickly, excitedly–asking: Did you learn this? How much do you know?
Carlos rubs the back of his neck, chuckling softly. "That's all I know so far," he admits, almost sounding shy. "But I am learning. For you."
Before (Name) can answer, Carlos Sr. abruptly pushes his chair back and storms out of the room. Reyes follows a moment later.
Carlos watches them go, unbothered, then turns back to (Name).
"Ice cream?" he asks, as if none of it mattered.
And for the first time that evening, (Name) smiles– genuinely, freely.
(Name) doesn't know why, but the moment she steps into the paddock, she has that feeling. That something big is about to happen.
It isn't anyone's birthday– not hers, not Carlos', not even Alexandra's. It's not even race day, just a free practice. And yet, a strange feeling blooms in her chest, of a certainty that something big is about to happen.
She can't explain it but she can't shake it either.
***
The interview goes smoothly, just as planned.
The questions are predictable, the answers follow the notes (Name) prepared for Carlos. He strays from the script occasionally, making her blink in mild confusion. But a little improvise is nothing (Name) cannot handle.
But then, at the end, Carlos goes completely off script.
"Can I say something off topic?" he asks the interviewer.
"Of course," comes the answer.
Carlos takes a deep breath. "I want to say something to someone very special to me."
Then he says it.
"I love you." Once in English. Again in Spanish. Then in nine more languages.
(Name) translates each repetition, her hands moving on autopilot while her eyes remain fixed on Carlos in growing disbelief. She doesn't understand what's he doing, why he's saying these things.
Not until he turns to face her.
Then, in one last language– her language– he signs the words.
"I love you."
For once, (Name) is unable to react.
***
When she enters the team room, Carlos stands with his back to her, scrolling on his phone in front of the TV.
She hesitates at the doorway. "Did you mean it…"
Carlos spins around at the sound.
That voice.
The same voice that called his name that day. The same voice that saved have him. The voice he's dreamed of hearing again.
His eyes land on (Name), standing there like a ghost. Still. Silent. Or so he thinks.
"…Carlos?" she says softly and this time, he sees it– her lips move, her voice trembling but real. She spoke. To him.
Carlos is in front of her and gently cradling her face, before she can say another word.
"Say that again," he whispers. "Say my name. Please."
(Name) looks down. Then, slowly, her voice cracks the air again. "Did you…mean it? Was that for me?"
Carlos doesn't speak right away. He doesn't need to. He leans in, resting his forehead against her. And she sees it then, tears in his eyes.
"(Name) can make sound," he murmurs in awe. "You are speaking."
And then he's laughing, before lifting her into his arms and spinning her in a full circle.
"(Name) is speaking to me!" Carlos shouts, as if he can't believe it's real.
(Name) finds herself laughing too, her smile blooming with something she hasn't felt in a long time.
Freedom.
Carlos wins the Spanish Grand Prix.
In the team room, (Name)'s heart skips a beat as she watches him on the screen, scanning the stands for someone. For her.
***
He doesn't greet his father when he walks in. Doesn't stop by his mother either. No, the very first thing he does is head straight for (Name) and pull her into his arms her.
She hears the gasps. The shuffle of feet. The sound of the door opening, of someone leaving in haste.
But none of it matters. Only Carlos does.
***
Later, at the post race interview, Carlos can't stop smiling. And for once, neither can (Name).
She is too focused on interpreting his words to notice that he spends most of the interview looking only at her.
"Anything else you'd like to say before we wrap up, Carlos?" the interviewer asks.
Carlos nods. "Yes."
(Name) pauses, confused. This wasn't in the notes.
"I want to dedicate this win to someone very special," Carlos says and for the first time, (Name)'s hand falter. She stills, only for a moment, before quickly catching on.
"To my amazing, wonderful, inspiring wife. (Name)."
Interpreting her own name from his mouth feels…different. But good different.
But Carlos isn't finished.
"This win is for my wife, who is standing beside me right now." He gently pulls (Name) closer with one arm around her waist. "This one is for you, (Name)."
And then, he leans in.
He kisses her. Their first real kiss since the wedding. The first one that feels true.
(Name) kisses him back, smiling against his lips.
Somewhere in the background, she hears Alexandra's muffled scream of shock and what sounds like several clipboard clattering to the ground.
None of it matters.
Carlos is smiling. And for now, that's enough.
***Is it a bit unrealistic for Carlos to win a race in a Williams car? Yes but that's the beauty of fanfic, anything can happen.
Summary: The plan was simple– pretend to be your own kidnapper, pressure the cold and distant husband into either divorcing you himself or paying 'you' enough to do it yourself.
What wasn't accounted for? His unexpected care and sheer stubbornness.
contains: angst, fluff, implied unhappy marriage, Carlos Sr is the villain because I needed one, reader can speak but is selectively mute, marriage of convenience or is it? Based on the few episodes I saw of the show of the same name.
Carlos and his family think the reader can't speak. The only people who are aware that she can speak is her mother and her friend, Alexandra. Alexandra is the only person the reader speaks to. Felipe and Sofia are the reader's stepfather and stepsister. Alexandra is Alexandra Saint-Mleux.
This is the seventh call. Maybe the eighth, (Name) is starting to lose the count at this point.
She places her steaming cup on the bedside table and at seven pm sharp, dials the number.
Carlos picks up after the first ring.
"Again?" He says. His voice has a hint of irritation but also something else– determination.
"You're persistent, huh?" (Name) rasps, trying to disguise her voice, though it's not needed. The burner phone came with a voice changer after all. Still, she does this every call, just to be safe.
"And you are repetitive," he shots back. The line goes quiet for some time after that, so (Name) picks up her cup and takes a small sip.
Sensing Carlos won't break the silence, (Name) decides to speak again. "You are awfully calm for a man being threatened, Mr. Sainz."
Carlos chuckles, the sound both amused and tired. "You say the same thing everytime. It's getting repetitive."
Het jaw tightens. "Then here's something new. If you don't divorce her, something will happen."
A pause. Then, "To me or her?"
(Name) blinks. She wasn't expecting this. "Why do you care?"
"You act like I don't care," his voice is steady, firm, "but I care about her, more than you realize." and full of confidence.
Her grip on the phone tightens. "Then pay me. I'll leave you both alone."
"You won't succeed in separating us," Carlos speaks so confidently that it makes her chest ache. "No matter what you try."
(Name)'s breath hitches.
Before she can respond, the line goes end.
She stares at her phone, a sinking feeling growing in her chest.
This isn't working.
1.
That evening, Carlos knocks on her door.
"Let's make dinner together," he signs. His hands moved with an ease that tells her he thought this through and practiced before asking.
(Name) hesitates.
Carlos never did this before. Never tried to involve her in his life.
But she finds herself nodding anyway.
***
What starts as a simple meal, turns into flour fights, laughter and accidental touches.
Carlos isn't the best at cooking—he sliced the onions too thick and nearly set the oil on fire—but he laughed and it was infectious.
He guides her hands as they knead dough, his warmth lingering even after he stepped back.
At one point, without thinking, Carlos reaches up to brush flour from (Name)'s cheek. His thumb lingers longer than it should have.
(Name) should have pulled away. But she doesn't.
When they finally sit down to eat, she finds it hard to look at him.
This is a dangerous game she's playing.
2.
(Name) wasn't expecting to get the job.
She applied for the job of the interpreter on impulse, wanting something of her own.
No one on the Williams team knows about her relation with Carlos. It just makes things easier, and the perfect choice.
She was also not expecting Carlos to care.
So when he finds her, that day, after training and signs, "Congratulations."
She freezes.
She didn't realize Carlos knew or cared.
That night, there's a knock on (Name)'s door.
On the other side, Carlos is holding a small velvet box. Inside is a delicate necklace with a tiny charm.
"For your new job," he signs, almost shyly.
(Name)'s breath is caught. Before she can react, Carlos steps closer and clasp it around her neck. His fingers barely touch her skin but she feels the warmth lingering.
Their eyes meet in the mirror.
(Name) swallows hard.
She is supposed to make him want to let go.
Then why does it feel like he is holding on tighter ?
3.
Live.
In front of cameras. In front of thousands of people watching.
(Name) stands beside Carlos, hands gripping her notepad tightly. The interviewer is chatting with another driver first, giving her a few extra minutes to calm herself.
Her heart, however, is anything but calm.
She has done this before. But not live. Not where any mistake will be instantly broadcasted to the world.
She feels Carlos shift beside her. Then, quietly, he leans in.
"You’re going to do amazing," he murmurs. His voice is warm, reassuring.
Slightly startled, (Name) looks up at him.
Before she can react, Carlos reaches for her hand under the table, giving it a small, firm squeeze. He lets go only when the interviewer turns to them.
***
The interview starts and (Name) forces herself to focus. She translates Carlos' answers effortlessly, her hands moving with confidence.
The longer it goes on, the more natural it feels. She barely notices Carlos watching her—how, every time she moves, he follows her gestures like she is the only person in the room.
It isn't until later, scrolling through her phone, that she sees what the world saw.
Twitter and Instagram were filled with clips of the interview. But instead of just Carlos’ words, people were fixated on something else.
“The way Carlos looks at his interpreter is so!!!!.”
“Someone tell me why he’s staring at her like she is the stars in the sky???”
“Imagine being so in love you forget you’re on live TV.”
(Name) frowns, scrolling through video clips of Carlos speaking. His gaze was always on her. Always. She didn't even noticed.
Her stomach twists.
Then, she feels a presence besides her.
"Interesting choice of content," Alexandra teases, peering over her shoulder.
(Name)'s hands tighten around her phone.
"I was just—"
"Analyzing?" Alexandra finishes, smirking.
(Name) scrolls back to a paused clip, Carlos’ expression frozen mid-sentence—his eyes warm, his lips curved in a way that looked almost… soft.
It doesn't mean anything. It can't.
Alexandra nudges her. "So… second thoughts?"
(Name) hesitates.
"I still want the divorce," she says. But the words felt unsteady.
Alexandra hums. "You think so, at least."
(Name) doesn't respond.
4.
(Name) tries to keep her distance.
She reminds herself of the plan. Reminds herself that Carlos isn't her's, not really.
And then, it rains.
Carlos was with the team all afternoon, testing at the track. And (Name) stayed late to wrap up some notes.
By the time she steps out, the sky is pitch black.
Carlos is leaning against his car. Judging by his bored expression and constant darting at his watch, (Name) can tell he is waiting for someone.
Is he waiting for me? The thought makes her heart flutter.
(Name) shakes her head. He doesn't care, at least that's what's she's been telling herself for the past few days.
But she can answer to herself, Carlos' eyes find hers.
He opens the door to the car before even speaking. "Let's go home."
(Name) shakes her head, phone ready in hand to answer.
It’s fine. I’ll call a taxi.
Carlos frowns. "In this weather?" He gestures to the rain, where the track lights makes the downpour shimmer like falling glass. "Just get in."
She hesitates, but another gust of wind sends rain splattering against her.
So she climbs in.
***
They don't speak—not out loud, at least. Instead, (Name) pulls out her phone.
You don’t have to do this.
Carlos glances at her. "Do what?"
Pretend that you care.
His grip on the wheel tightens. "I am not pretending," he says.
They stop at a red light.
Carlos reaches toward the dashboard, turning up the heater. "Are you cold?"
(Name) swallows but shakes her head.
When they arrive, he pulls up in front of the house but doesn't unlock the doors immediately.
"You think I don’t care," he says quietly. "But I do."
(Name) doesn't move. Doesn't look at him.
She opens the door and steps out without a word.
Inside, she presses her back against the door, her heart hammering.
She has to end this.
But somehow, Carlos keeps making it harder.
5.
The dinner was uncomfortable from the start.
Carlos warned (Name) about his father but nothing could have prepared her for this.
***
(Name) spent most of the evening in silence, answering questions with polite smiles and written responses on her phone when necessary.
And then, Carlos Sr turns his attention to (Name).
"This whole marriage," he starts, and points at Carlos and (Name), swirling his wine glass lazily, "was a disaster from the start. We were supposed to get Sofia. But Felipe pawned off his broken daughter and we were fools to take her."
The table falls silent.
(Name) doesn't do anything, but her fingers tightens its grip on her fork.
Shaking his head, Carlos Sr leans back in chair. "She can't even speak. Pathetic."
Carlos' jaw clenches.
"She is a disgrace," his father continues. "We give them everything and they humiliate us with–"
"Enough!"
Carlos' voice is sharp, cutting through the heavy silence like a blade.
Carlos Sr scoffs. "Excuse me?"
Everyone on the table looks around, trying to figure out a way to diffuse the situation.
And then, Carlos puts down his glass. "I said enough."
His father narrows his eyes. "I don't appreciate that tone, boy."
"And I don't appreciate you insulting my wife."
A murmur ripples through the table.
Carlos Sr scoffs, waving a dismissive hand. "Don't act like you actually care about this marriage, Carlos. You wouldn't even acknowledge her in public–"
Carlos pushes back his seat and gets up.(Name) looks up at him in alarm.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Carlos says coldly. “You think (Name) is pathetic? That she’s some kind of burden? She’s the only person in this family with any real dignity.”
Carlos Sr's expression darkens. “Watch your mouth.”
“No, you watch yours.” Carlos leans forward, resting his hands on the table. “You want to be president, right? You need Felipe’s influence to make that happen. So maybe you should start talking to my wife with the respect she deserves.”
Carlos Sr's face turns red with rage.
Carlos turns to (Name) and holds out his hand. “Come on. We’re leaving.”
(Name) hesitates.
His father stands up. "Carlos." His voice is dangerously low. “You will not walk away from this table.”
Carlos doesn't even look at him.
“I won’t stay in a place where my wife is being disrespected.”
(Name) places her hand in his and together, they walk out.
+1
(Name) needs air.
Carlos steps away to handle a call, and (Name) finds her way to the rooftop of the estate.
Her plan is falling apart.
Carlos wasn't supposed to care. Yet, he does. He wasn't supposed to defend her.
And yet he did.
She pulls out the burner phone and almost like a second nature, seeks out Carlos' number. With trembling fingers, she dials his number.
Carlos answers almost immediately. "What do you want again?"
(Name) swallows. She can't stop, not now.
She checks her surrounding and then, lowers her voice. "Why are you still with her?"
Carlos exhales sharply. "Not this again."
“She’s pathetic.” Every inch of her body screaming at her to stop, hating herself for every word. But (Name) presses on. “She can’t even speak. She is a damaged good. A replacement for her perfect sister. Why are you still holding onto her?”
There's a pause.
Then, Carlos starts speaking.
"Because she is the only good thing in my life."
(Name) steps closer to the edge of the roof and closes her eyes. The night breeze cools her skin but isn't able to reach in and calm her pounding heart.
Carlos continues in a steady pace. “Because in a world where everyone takes and demands, she asks for nothing. And still, she gives everything.”
(Name) opens her eyes and grips the phone tighter. A familiar feeling.
“She makes me feel alive,” Carlos admits, his voice starts to get quieter. “Like I can breathe normally for the first time in years.”
(Name)'s chest aches.
“She is not a replacement. She’s not some extra chapter in someone else’s story.” Carlos say. His voice is softer now but full of confidence as well. “She is a brand-new language. One I want to learn.”
(Name) steps back from the edge as tears begin to blur her vision.
"Don't ever talk about my wife like that again," Carlos finishes.
"Then why?" she whispers, the words slipping out before she can stop them, " Why did you treat her like she didn't matter?" She needs to to know. I need to know.
Silence.
"Why did you act like she was invisible?" (Name)'s voice is uneven by now. "Why were you so ashamed to tell everyone that she was your wife?"
There is no answer.
Then–
A chime.
The elevator door behind her slides open.
(Name) turns around, her heart stopping.
Carlos steps out, staring at her, his phone still pressed to his ear.
And in her hand, the burner phone.
His eyes flickers between her tear-streaked face and the device.
Realization dawns.
(Name)'s world caves in.
This literally came to me in my dreams a few weeks ago and I knew I had to write it.
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Summary: 5 times Jude tried to show his love for his wife and failed and 1 time he succeed.
contains: fluff, references to marriage of convenience, Valverde and Brahim are as useful as always, Ancelotti makes another appearance. This is a definitive part two of can we became we?
*Mina is Valverde's partner, Luz is Brahim's girlfriend, Ana is Lunin's wife
1
Jude is proud of this plan.
It was his idea, definitely not something he picked up from the internet, Luka or Brahim–especially not Brahim.
And the best part? He's certain it's going to work.
Taking a deep breath, Jude tries to calm the fluttering of his heart once more and gather his thoughts together.
He can hear that melodic laughter getting clear and closer. With one last deep breath, he hurries into the lounge area with a bouquet in hand.
“(Name)!” Jude calls out.
(Name) looks up from her laptop, and a smile immediately spreads across her face when she sees her. His heart skips a beat– her smile still having that effect on him.
"What's this?" she asks, her eyes lighting up a bit as she takes the bouquet.
"Just a little something for you," Jude says, beaming with pride.
(Name)’s smile falters a bit as she looks at the flowers more closely. She lets out an awkward laugh, trying to mask her confusion. “Thanks, Jude. This is…interesting.”
Jude's own smile fades away, replaced by the same confusion as his wife. “What's wrong? You don't like them?”
(Name) bites her lips, trying to choose her next words carefully.
“No, no, they're lovely. Just...unexpected." She kisses him on the cheek and excuses herself, murmuring something about Mina and dinner.
Jude stands there, bewildered.
Just then, Ancelotti enters the lounge area with Fede and Brahim.
His coach takes one look at the flowers and shakes his head in disappointment. Fede and Brahim, on the other hand, immediately burst into laughter.
“What's so funny?” Jude demands.
Brahim nearly loses his balance and clings to Fede when Ancelotti smacks Jude lightly on the head.
“Idiot. You gave her yellow carnations. Do you realize what that means?”
Jude rubs the back of his head, still clueless. “No?”
“They mean disappointment and rejection. You basically told your wife you hate her.”
Jude's eyes widen in horror. “What?! I thought these were just pretty flowers!"
Without wasting another second, he bolts outside. "(Name)! Wait!"
Behind him, his coach sighs while Fede and Brahim continue to laugh in disbelief.
2
Jude is proud of his plan. And this time he's going to succeed, he is sure of it.
He's going to surprise (Name) and there's no possible way anything can go wrong.
The plan is perfect, except for one fact. Jude…. isn't the greatest when it comes to cooking.
In their Madrid home, Jude tries to remember the recipe as he gathers ingredients. He's seen it many times, how hard can it possibly be?
As he starts chopping vegetables, his confidence begins to waver.
The onions make his eyes sting, the garlic refuses to mince as finely as he was expecting and he can't quite remember if the vegetables need to be marinated or just tossed in the pan.
But Jude presses on, refusing to let minor failures discourage him.
Soon enough, the kitchen is filled with the smell of sizzling vegetables and herbs—though it is accompanied by the occasional scent of something burning.
He stirs, tastes, adds more salt, more pepper and at one point, dumps an entire jar of sauce, just to be safe.
By the time (Name) arrives home, the kitchen is in chaos. Pots and pans are all over the floor and a faint trail of smoke is seeping from the oven.
“Jude?” (Name) calls out as she enters their living room, the smell of something burnt hitting her immediately.
“In here!” Jude calls back, trying to keep his voice steady. “Just finishing up a little surprise for you!”
(Name) walks into the kitchen and freezes. The scene in front of her is both endearing and alarming.
Jude is surrounded by a culinary disaster– splash of sauce on the wall, flour on the counter and his hair, and a dish in front of him that looks like it just fought a losing battle against the stove.
“Jude….what is this?” She asks, her voice a mixture of confusion and concern. Jude turns to her, grinning proudly.
“I wanted to do something for you. You always do so much for me and now it’s my turn to spoil you.”
(Name)’s heart melts at the sight of her husband being proud of his efforts, despite the clear indication of his struggle.
“That's so sweet of you, Jude,” she softly says, stepping closer.
“Here, sit down,” Jude said, gesturing towards the dining table. “I’ll bring it to you.”
He awkwardly places the food as she watches, trying to arrange it in a way that doesn't look entirely like a mess.
(Name) stares at the dish.
It is…very different from what they usually eat, and the smell is… well, not exactly appetizing either. But she can see how much this means to Jude, and there’s no way she is going to let him down.
She picks up her fork and forces a smile. “It looks… interesting,” she says, trying to sound enthusiastic.
“Go on, try it!” Jude urges, taking a seat opposite of her and watching her intently.(Name) takes a deep breath and cuts a small piece of the dish.
The texture is tough, the seasoning is overwhelming and there is a strange taste of something burnt that lingers. It is, quite possibly, the worst thing she has ever eaten.
But she swallows it, determined not to hurt Jude's feelings.
“Mmm,” she murmurs, forcing another smile. “It’s… different.”
Jude beams. “I knew you’d love it! I’ll make this more often.”
(Name)’s smile falters, just for a second before she forces it back in place. “That’s… great, Jude.”
3
Ana’s birthday presents Jude with his next opportunity.
Surely he can't mess this up, right? It's just dancing– how hard can it possibly be?
(Name)’s heart skips a beat when Jude asks her for a dance, just like the first time.
It does so again, when he admits that he learned how to dance just for her.
To her astonishment, he is doing good—really good.
For a moment, the world melts away, and (Name)’s smile grows wider with each turn and twirl.
“Jude, you’re doing so good!” she exclaims, laughing as they spin around the room.
“I wanted to surprise you,” Jude replies in a soft voice full of affection. “You deserve the best.”
Turns out, dancing isn't that hard.
But dancing with the love of your life? One of the hardest things ever and Jude discovers that in the most unfortunate way.
As the dance goes on, Jude becomes more and more captivated by (Name)’s smile, the way her eyes sparkle and how perfectly she fits in his arms.
He's so mesmerized that, for a split second, he loses focus.
***
It happens in an instant.
As he twirls her one last time, his grip loosens and (Name) spins out of his arms.
She gasps in surprise as she stumbles backward. But before she can fall, Fede and Mina, standing nearby, catch her just in time.
Jude's heart drops to the floor as he watches in horror. He rushes to her side, his face pale with worry.
“(Name)! Are you okay? I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean—”
(Name), although startled, is quick to reassure him. She gives their friends a grateful smile as they help lift her up.
Turning to Jude, she places a hand on his arm. “I’m fine, Jude. Don't worry,” she says gently.
But even (Name)’s reassurance isn't enough to ease Jude.
He spends hours going over every detail, apologizing for his mistake. (Name) patiently listens, repeating over and over that she understands, that she isn't upset.
Once again, Jude's perfect plan failed.
4
This time it has to work, it has to.
Jude parks his car in front of (Name)’s workplace a good 20 minutes before her shift is supposed to end.
He checks the time and the address repeatedly. It's going to be perfect this time around. It has to.
But as minutes tick by, Jude starts to get anxious. He's been waiting for ten minutes and there seems to be no sign of (Name).
His eyes flick back and forth between the clock on the dashboard and the building’s entrance.
Another five minutes pass. Still nothing.
Jude's concern begins to grow. He reaches for his phone, only to find the screen completely dark. His phone is dead.
A wave of panic takes over him. What if she's stuck somewhere and can't reach me?
Jude glances around frantically, hoping to see (Name).
Just then, he spots Luz walking out of the building. Relief washes over him and he hurries out of the car to meet her.
“Luz!” Jude calls out. He takes a few seconds to steady himself. “Where's (Name)? I've been waiting for her but she's nowhere to be seen?”
Luz looks at him, confused. “(Name)?”
“Yeah. I came to pick her up,” he explains, “but it's almost been 20 minutes and I still haven't seen her.”
Luz’s puzzled expression softens once she realizes what's happened.
“Jude…she isn't here because this isn't her workplace.”
Jude blinks, trying to process her words. “What? But–but I thought…”
Luz shakes her head with a small smile. “No, she works on the building down the road. The names are pretty similar, I can see how you got confused.”
Jude's heart sinks. He can't believe he made such a silly mistake. “Shit…I’m such an idiot,” he mutters to himself, before looking back at Luz.
“Thank you, Luz.”
Without wasting another second, he rushes back to his car and drives off towards the correct location.
As he pulls up to the right building, he spots (Name) just as she’s stepping out of the entrance.
Relief washes over him once more. He quickly parks the car and hurries over to her.
“(Name)!” he calls out in an apologetic voice.
(Name) turns, surprised to see him. “Jude? What are you doing here?”
Jude reaches her, slightly out of breath. “I’m so sorry, (Name). I went to the wrong building. I got the names mixed up and then my phone died. And I was so worried when I didn’t see you…”
(Name)’s expression softens as she sees the genuine concern in his eyes. She offers him a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, Jude. Really, it’s fine.”
Back in the car, Jude glances at her, his face still clouded with regret.
“I'm so sorry, (Name). I wish I didn't mess up like this all the time.”
(Name) reaches out and touches his shoulder gently.
“You didn't mess up,” she says, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “You are here and that's enough for me.”
Jude sighs. He tries to relax but the guilt of messing up still lingers around.
Jude 0 Misfortune 3*
5
For once, Jude isn't actually sure of the plan. But one thing he is certain of is that if he stays like this, he'll faint soon.
This was Brahim and Fede’s plan, needless to say he was skeptical from the start. But they’ve been relationships longer than him, so he decided to trust them.
Now, as the minutes drag on, he's starting to realize that it might have been a huge mistake.
***
This is ridiculous, Jude thinks, feeling the sweat start trickle down his back. This was a stupid idea that would only work in movies.
He shoots Fede hid eighth glare of the night and Brahim is probably hiding somewhere.
The midfielder gestures for Jude to relax but it only makes him more impatient.
A small sound from his phone ends up being Fede's saving grace. ‘Five more minutes’, the message from Brahim reads.
***
True to his words, five minutes later, Jude finally spots (Name) across the room.
With a deep breath, Jude walks over and without a word, drapes his jacket over her shoulders.
(Name) blinks in surprise, then looks up at him, puzzled.
“Jude… what are you doing? Are you okay? You’re sweating a lot.”
Jude tries to explain but his words come out in a jumbled mess. “I just… I thought you might be cold, so I… the jacket…”
Her confusion turns into a soft, amused smile. She removes the jacket off her shoulders and ties it around her waist instead.
“You’re sweet but I’m not cold,” she says, taking his hand. “Come on, let’s go for a walk. You look like you need some fresh air.”
***
As they head outside, Jude doesn’t miss the opportunity to shoot another death glare at Fede, who’s trying—and failing—not to laugh. Brahim is grinning like a Cheshire cat from across the room.
He's never listening to anything they ever say.
+1
Jude planned everything perfectly.
Or so he thought.
His grand plan was to surprise (Name) with a romantic dinner at a fancy restaurant. There was very little that could go wrong this time, right?
Unfortunately for Jude, everything that could go wrong, did go wrong and horribly so.
First, they are late thanks to him misplacing the car keys. Then, in his flustered state, Jude takes a wrong turn and gets stuck in the traffic for almost an hour.
By the time they finally arrive at the restaurant, they learn that their reservation has been given to another couple.
“We’re terribly sorry, sir,” the hostess said. “But your time ended and we had to give the table away.”
Jude's heart sinks. He can see the disappointment in (Name)’s eyes and it felt like another failure in a long list of them. He manages to put up a tight smile and nods, leading her back to the car in silence.
***
Once inside, Jude grips the steering wheel and stares ahead blankly. One look at (Name) a moment later and he's unable to stop himself.
“I’m so sorry, (Name),” he chokes out, unable to keep the frustration inside.
“I’ve been trying so hard to show you how much I love you. But I just keep screwing everything up. I wanted tonight to be perfect but I can’t even get that right.”
(Name) reaches over, gently placing her hand on his. “Jude, you don’t have to do anything grand to show me you love me.”
“But I want to,” he whispers, tears welling up in his eyes. “I want to make you happy, to do something special…”
She smiles softly, shaking her head. “You already do that, every day. It’s not about fancy dinners or big gestures.
It’s the way you always make sure my favorite mug is clean in the morning, the way you hold my hand when we’re watching a movie, even if it’s one you don’t like. It’s the way you look at me, like I’m the only person in the room.”
Jude looks at her, surprised by her words. “But those are just… little things.”
“Not to me,” she says, squeezing his hand. “Those are the things that matter. They’re the things that show me you care, every day. You don’t have to try so hard, Jude. I know you love me and that's enough for me.”
A tear slips down his cheek and (Name) gently wipes it away. “It’s okay,” she say softly. “We’re okay.”
They sit there for a moment, just holding hands and talking about everything and nothing.
This isn't as grand or big as Jude hoped for. But (Name)’s happy and laughing, and here with him.
Summary: Their relationship has always been an interesting one. Fifteen years together, break up before one of their lives' most significant events, gold medal, a ring– and the rest is, as they say, history.
okay so bear with me on this. In this universe, Motorsports is an Olympic sport and we can figure out how it would work later but for now– 1) road race is your normal race, 2) there's going to be an event called Time Trial, similar to cycling and 3) Team Pursuit is a team event.
This is my first time doing something like this, I hope you enjoy!
Shock Split?! British MotorSporting Power Couple Call It Quits After 15 Years Ahead of Olympics Showdown
In an unexpected twist that has left fans and insiders confused, Britain's beloved sporting duo, Lewis Hamilton and [Name], have reportedly ended their 15-year relationship just months before they are set to compete together in the upcoming Olympics.
The couple, known for their remarkable chemistry both on and off the field, have been a fixture in the British sports scene.
Sources close to the pair reveal that the split has been brewing for some time...(read more)
Press Conference [Update] Silverstone, 16 June
Due to unforseen circumstances, Lewis Hamilton and [Name] will do separate interviews at 19:20.
(Name)_GB
Liked by teamgb, georgerussell63 and 966,419 others
(Name_GB) First time in the Olympics!!! Hoping to make everyone proud.
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pattyVAX no mention of Lewis. It's so over.
sunsetseb65 Not even a single pic either, they usually have pictures together in every situation.
f1gossip
Liked by gridgossip and 11,892 others
f1gossip First 'public appearance' of (Name) and Lewis Hamilton outside of their work since the alleged break up at the first round match of Rafael Nadal.
Notably, both came separately and sat away from each other 👀.
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A exclusive clip from Paris 2024 Podcast 02.08.2024– Hosted by Cristina Lindemann
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
CL: So, we have to talk about the elephant in the room if you will.
N: The break up? (Laughs)
CL: Only if want to though!
N: No, don't worry about. (Clears throat) Yes, it's true, we ended our relationship at the beginning of June.
We thought about a lot of things– our future, career and thought this was the best decision for now.
We ended on a good note so please don't go harass Lewis. But, um that's what happened. Maybe it'll change in the future, who knows. (Laughs)
gridgossip
Liked by f1gossip and 2,741 others
gridgossip [Name] ditches ex-boyfriend and teammate to watch fellow brits Louise Brown and Oliver Bearman. Looking very happy while doing so.
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HollandTRasH Did you expect them to look angry or sad while watching her compatriots?
Kimipublicist Oh it's so over. It's never been more over.
bellaISdead are they even gonna do the final together or?
British Duo to Withdrawal Because of Relationship Drama?
....Our sources informed that they former couple, along with their team and TeamGB representatives held a 'crisis meeting' last night to discuss about the Team Pursuit Final and possible withdrawal from the event. (read more)
WATCH: (Name) confirms participation in the final amid withdrawal fear
British driver (Name) confirms plan to participate in Team Pursuit Final of the very first edition of Motorsports in Summer Olympic games.
They refused to comment on the alleged crisis meeting and the hand-shaking incident.
Olympic TV 2 hours ago
Team Pursuit Final | MotorSport (Open-wheel Track) | Olympic Games Paris 2024
(Name)’s hand doesn't leave Lewis’. It remains locked together, even at the podium as they wait for their medals.
They swing their hands together in excitement as the Dutch team receives their medals. Lewis can't help but smile at this, a glimmer of what they used to have still visible in his eyes.
“Ready?” Lewis asks as the announcer starts to announce them in French. (Name) turns to him and nods.
“–Great Britain!” (Name) and Lewis jump onto the podium together as the sounds of the excitement of the crowd fills the track.
Their locked hands remain a constant, even as they're waving at the excited crowd.
For the photo, Lewis, ever the showman, lifts (Name) into his arms. She lets out a surprised laugh, wrapping her arms around his neck for support.
Cameras flash, capturing the moment and for a fleeting instant, it feels like nothing changed.
The national anthem begins to play. As the familiar words fill the air, (Name) feels a lump form in her throat. The culmination of years of hard work and sacrifice, hit her all at once. Tears well up in her eyes, threatening to spill over.
Lewis notices immediately. He gently takes her hand, squeezing it reassuringly. He leans in close. "Hey, it's okay,” he says, his voice soft and warm, “We did it. We made it."
(Name) nods, biting her lip to keep from crying.
The anthem continues, and she found herself leaning into Lewis' comforting presence. Despite everything, they are still here for each other, just as they always been. And that's enough for now.
As the final notes of the anthem fade away, the camera moves from the flags to where (Name) and Lewis are standing; holding hands and basking in the glow of their victory.
🏎️ nighttimeday Follow
(Name) and Hamilton Win Olympic🥇
About their relationship
(Name): “That’s our personal lives you don’t need to know that”
Hamilton: “So this is top secret. Top secret.”
(Name): “We like it when you are confused!”
Hamilton: “Exactly. That’s how we feel powerful.”
🎥: IOC
#yeah they are definitely back together #paris olympics 2024 #motorsports
(5,198 notes)
(Name_GB)
Liked by lewishamilton, georgerussell63 and 2,971,123 others
(Name_GB) Thank you for this and more, partner 💕
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lewishamilton ❤️
usergayce yep, they are back together
pattyVAX WE ARE SO BACK
f1gossip • 2 hours ago
lewishamilton & (Name_GB) • 15 minutes ago
This was inspired by Katerina Siniakova and Tomas Machac and whatever the hell happened between them.
Walking into your dagger, for the very last time (2)
Summary: They say there is not much difference between love and hate.
Who knew that just like love, you also don't see the hate coming because like love, hate finds you on its own too.
Where did it all go wrong?
contains: swearing, angst, not a happy ending (again), nightmares, possible disturbing imagery, Pedri is kind of a dick in this one. Part two of walking into your dagger for the very last time .
That very morning, (Name) heads to the airport a good two hours before Pedri's plane is scheduled to land.
As they head there, (Name) can't help but glance at their phone every so often, half expecting a message or two from Pedri.
But to their surprise, there is nothing. It does strike them as a bit odd but they quickly brush it off.
It doesn't matter now, he's probably in the plane anyway.
Another concern hits (Name), that Pedri hasn't messaged them about how he would recognize them.
Instead of dwelling on it, they simply send him a description of what they are wearing, hoping he'd see it when he gets connection.
***
An hour ticks by when they notice he hasn't been online in 6 hours. Strange.
It doesn't really matter, what matters is that Pedri will be here soon.
***
And finally, the moment comes.
The plane number Pedri provided touches down.
(Name) goes with the flow of the eager crowd towards the runway entrance, their heart pounding with excitement. They watch as reunions unfold around them–lovers embracing with tears of joy, families reuniting.
Two figures, roughly around their age, lock in a tight embrace as a girl emerged from the entrance.
It's a tender scene and they can't help but wonder how it would feel to hold Pedri in their arms.
***
Another hour slips by and a sense of uneasiness begins to creep in.
They check their phone and still nothing from Pedri, no sign of him anywhere. It's as if suddenly, he vanished into thin air.
'Why isn't he here yet,' (Name) mumbles to themself. They glance at the time on their phone, again.
With nothing to do, they think back to the accidental spill of salt on them in a rush, the fleeting glimpse of a black cat.
(Name) shakes their head, dismissing the thoughts. There isn't room for negativity, not when Pedri's waiting.
***
The pity glances from people who have seen them standing here before doesn't escape the eye.
Ten more minutes, (Name) assures themselves, he'll be here.
But the minutes stretch on, turning into hours but still, he doesn't come.
The crowd around them starts to blur into a sea of faces and by that time, the atmosphere starts to go dark.
Words quickly spread around that the last plane from Barcelona with the Barcelona team is here, reigniting a glimmer of hope in (Name)'s heart.
Perhaps something unexpected happened and Pedri had to travel with the team. They hold onto this possibility, desperate for any explanation that might account for his absence.
***
What little hope they had vanishes when the last of Barcelona staff enter into the airport but no sign of Pedri.
The sinking realization of Pedri not coming starts to creep into their mind.
(Name) lingers until dusk, clutching onto the hope that still refuses to completely die.
Maybe, just maybe, if they wait a bit longer, Pedri would be here.
He doesn't come.
As the sun begins to set, and so does (Name)'s hope.
They can't shake the sinking feeling that something went wrong terribly. The messages still remained unanswered, their worry deepening in every passing moment.
***
As a last ditch effort, they move towards the place Pedri messaged them about last night, in case he was late.
With frustration and worry, they reach there in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, Pedri's there.
Upon reaching the designated spot, (Name) can't hide their sharp sting of disappointment.
For a single moment, they allow their hopes to soar at the sight of someone talking on the phone, their back facing towards them.
But as the figure turns, it's not Pedri– it's Ansu. Under any other circumstances, this encounter would have been a cause of celebration.
However, this time, they feel a sense of sorrow clinging onto their heart.
Ansu leaves soon after, going in and out of the place while occasionally glancing at them.
(Name) wonders if he is on a quest to find Pedri too.
Ansu's keen gaze has been drawn to the figure standing outside for some time now.
Honestly he feels for them.
The person's movement is marked with a sense of urgency. They seem like they are waiting for someone; darting glances, attentive to the slightest sound, calling or rather trying to call someone from time to time– it looked like waiting for someone that's never returning.
His heart aches with empathy, recognizing the familiar agony of waiting for someone who doesn't care enough to return the care.
Ansu can't quite put his finger on why this random stranger's distress is alluring to him. But something about that voice of theirs’, although unclear, still tugs at the edge of his memories.
He just can't pin point from where.
(Name) can feel Ansu's eyes hovering over them.
There's an internal debate going on in their mind for a while now, contemplating whether to just give in and ask him about Pedri.
Gaining the courage, they finally venture forth.
"Ansu?" They say hoarsely, uncertain if Ansu heard.
Ansu halts in his steps and walks back just close enough to look at their face visibly, as (Name) calls his name again.
"Ansu?"
As he gazes into the eyes before him, there is a strange sense of familiarity.
They look like a long lost friend.
His eyes widen upon the sudden realization.
"(Name)?" The name escapes Ansu's lips, reverberating with recognition.
His immediate response sends a joyous wave crashing against (Name). The sigh of relief escapes their lips like a gentle breeze.
"Yes! Oh my God." In the next breath, (Name) reaches over and pulls him into a hug, a tight bone crushing one.
Ansu stands still and seems frozen in his spot for a moment and that little time is enough to make (Name) realize what they were doing.
In a heartbeat, they take a step back to prevent any more embarrassment. Their face flashes with a mix of emotions, not daring to look into his eyes.
"I am so sorry I–" (Name) starts to say in a choked voice, summoning a surge of courage to look back at him.
Ansu looks startled, the smile then comes without a hint of uncertainty.
He wraps himself around their side as they catch their own breath.
The roles reverse; now it's (Name)'s turn of standing still, wide-eyed, as Ansu continues to embrace them.
"How are you?" Ansu whispers into their ears. (Name) takes a moment, sliding their arms over his back.
"As good as I can be. You?"
"Good." His voice comes in the form of a soft whisper that carries his radiating smile.
Ansu's comforting presence offers a glimmer of solace but (Name) can't contain their worry for Pedri anymore.
"Ansu, where is Pedri?" They ask with haste.
"He said he'll arrive by 12 but he didn't, then he wasn't with you guys either," they continue, their concern evident, "And now Twitter is saying he got badly injured."
Ansu's brows furrow in immediate concern. "What?"
"Yeah, wait let me show you," (Name) says, their hands trembling slightly while navigating their bag for the phone.
Distress is written all over (Name)'s face. Sensing their distress, Ansu offers a soothing reassurance.
"(Name), It's okay," he says gently, "Take a moment to calm yourself."
With Ansu's reassurance, (Name) musters the courage to show him those posts.
His eyes scan the posts, realizing he, too, has not heard a single word from Pedri since leaving Barcelona.
"He hasn't been answering any of my calls or messages either. I am getting worried, Ansu," (Name) confesses with a voice that carries frustration and concern.
Ansu nods, determined to help. "Let me try." He offers while taking out his own phone.
***
The minutes that follow seem to stretch into eternity, with them both trying to catch Pedri's attention in some form.
Suddenly, (Name)'s attention is stolen by the sound of their phone.
It's a picture of Pedri. The surroundings are entirely unfamiliar.
The sight of the picture that follows sends a sharp jolt through (Name). Wordlessly they hand the phone to Ansu, leaving them at a loss.
As Ansu's eyes sweep over the image, his expression changes from surprise to recognition. He continues to scroll, piecing together the puzzle.
And suddenly it clicks– he knows the place, it's indeed in Barcelona. He looks up at (Name)'s wide-eyed gaze.
"I don't understand…" utters (Name), "He's in Barcelona? But I thought he was hurt…I..."
June, 2022, Barcelona
Meanwhile, somewhere in Barcelona, Pedri looks for comfort in a bar, to distract his hurt from what happened in the morning.
The pulsating music starts to hurt his ears after ten minutes. Stepping outside, the fresh breeze sends shivers down his spine, a sharp contrast from what he was feeling inside.
Pedri retrieves his phone, its screen lighting up with a barrage of messages and missed calls, vying for his attention.
His fingers move with purpose, dialing Ansu's number who immediately picks up.
Pedri feels the wave of relief wash over Ansu, as his concerned voice pierces through the line. "Pedri are you okay? Why weren't you picking your phone up?"
"I don't know."
"Where are you? (Name) is so–" Ansu begans, but Pedri's interject cuts him off.
"Not you too," he responds with a groan, frustration bleeding into his words. The weight of all this 'concern' feels suffocating to him.
"What does that mean?" Ansu's voice trembles with emotions, the words infused with a mixture of confusion and astonishment.
"Pedri?"
Pedri needs space for himself, space to breathe. "SHUT UP," he yells, the tension escalating in his voice.
The passersby glance at him; some in concern, some in annoyance, others just out of curiosity. But he is past caring.
He doesn't even blink as he forges ahead with the frustration and pent-up emotion.
"Listen to me Ansu and listen carefully, okay?" Pedri's pauses for a moment, squinting at the brightness from the streetlights. The harsh glow of it is a stark contrast to the turmoil within.
His voice trembles, only for a second. "I am just so tired of that nagging bitch making everything about them," The words fall heavily from his lips. It is as if he's unburdening himself of a weight that has grown too heavy to bear.
"Pedri shut up, I am begging you," Ansu pleads brokenly.
For Pedri, however, it is as though a switch has been flipped. The echoes of 'hurt, hurt, hurt,' starts to drown any semblance of empathy and reasoning inside him.
"I was the one who got injured, I am the one who might not have a place in the team," Pedri pours his heart out, each word of his own pain sharper than a shard of glass.
"I am the one whose life is days away from being ruined but they are the one who has been wronged? Please." His voice, laced with frustration, turns bitter. "I am so damn annoyed with (Name). Everything always ends up being about them."
"Pedri," Ansu gasps finally with disbelief, "How can you say that?"
"It's not really hard to let out what's true," Pedri responds. Even he isn't sure if he believes the words hanging in the air.
"Pedri, please," Ansu says, "They are your best friend, how can–"
"Oh no no. No. Absolutely not," He erupts.
"Let me get one thing clear. The only reason I have (Name) around is because I am too nice to cut off their desperate self," his declaration sounds sharp enough to cut the tension-filled air, "It's not my fault they can't take a hint and leave me alone. An–"
He doesn't even get to complete the venomous rant as Ansu abruptly disconnects, leaving him in a hushed and uncertain silence.
He waits, the silence stretching on but nothing comes. The line remains dark and empty.
It seems like Ansu wouldn't be calling back.
***
Pedri stumbles his way back to the dark warmth of the crowded bar. He attempts to lose himself in the music, to let it carry him away but something didn't feel right.
And after enduring ten minutes of the relentless music torturing his ears, Pedri can no longer bear it.
***
His steps are unsteady as he navigates his way back to the comfort of his home.
He sinks into his bed the moment he reaches home. Exhaustion washes over him after walking in the cool night. Sleep comes almost immediately.
Then, a sound pierces the stillness, pulling him back to the waking world.
Groaning, Pedri reaches for his phone. The phone suddenly slips from his grasp, landing on his face.
He gingerly picks it up, blinking back the haze of drowsiness and sees a few unopened voice messages casting a soft glow in the dim room.
One of them labeled '❤' spikes Pedri's curiosity. Intrigued, he presses play and finds the voice of (Name).
This time, however, something has shifted.
He doesn't feel annoyed hearing their voice. Instead, he is met with a warmth that seeps into his bones.
The smile he hears from those is intoxicating, lulling his dizzy mind into sleep.
Pedri doesn't sleep well that night– at all.
All he can manage is a series of tosses and turns, until he is trapped in the vivid and haunting nightmares once more.
Images flash before his closed eyelid, a montage of discomforting scenes that he can't quite comprehend. Faces twist, distant voices echo in eerie whispers, taunting him with cryptic messages.
'Your foolishness will be the reason for your undoing.' It sounded like Ansu.
The air grows heavy, suffocating him with its relentless grip.
Ansu is staring at him like never before. His gaze is sharp, leaving Pedri unsettled and unnerved.
Then, he wakes up.
A voice, distorted and haunting, whispers his name. Nothingness finds Pedri, only the outline of his own shadow menacingly staring back at him.
He tries to call out but the words vanish into the darkness.
No one answers.
Suddenly, a grip on his shoulder turns him around. In his vulnerable cocoon of subconscious, a face he doesn't know morphs into a grotesque mask of resentment right in front of him.
And before long, Pedri is face to face with a gaping bloody hole where the human features were once.
He wakes up.
He glances at his watch. The numbers glowing in dim light– Four.
Maybe, this never ending sequence of torture is finally over. He closes his eyes for a moment to calm himself down.
He's transported into a place of darkness and uncertainty when he opens them.
Each step feels like eternity passed with it, like the ground beneath is threatening to swallow him whole.
Only for a moment when Pedri gains the courage to look back at the hushed stillness of the night behind him, a dagger carves a heartache shaped hole in his heart from behind.
He wakes up.
He wakes up.
He wakes up.
The atmosphere in his dream grows dense and heavy. It wraps around Pedri, suffocating him in its tightening grip with every passing moment.
In this distorted sense of reality, he hears (Name).
He tries to reach out to their comfort but it is as though the weight of his own uneasiness is pressing him to the ground.
(Name) is screaming at him from all directions.
'I always knew you hated me,' keeps repeating like a broken record.
'I don't want to talk to you anymore.' Each of (Name)'s words pierce through him like a jagged blade.
Pedri tries to grab their hands, reassure them he doesn't hate them, he can ni. But his voice is just a mere helpless whisper, being drowned by the anguish of (Name) that surrounds him.
Then, with a jolt,
He wakes up.
Gasping for breath, he actually wakes up.
He knows this because the light no longer feels like an endless void, the air feels easy to breathe and the scenery around him isn't straining to the eye.
Pedri tries to grasp the reality that seems to like running away from him by slowly stealing every breath he can manage from the waking world, to make sure he is in the real world.
It's 6 in the morning, the clock shows in green.
The sun is not completely above the horizon yet. The hazy, peeking ray through the window grounds him to realization of reality. Pedri takes time to steady himself.
The remnants of the nightmare still cling to him, like a shadowing presence that refuses to let go.
As he lies down again, he can't help but feel the lingering fear of the darkness returning.
He tries to seek solace in the light of the morning, yet he feels helpless.
***
As a last ditch effort, he restores to listening to one of the many voice messages (Name) has sent over the years, hoping to get at least a few hours of sleep.
He hopes the dreams this time will be kinder.
He has a lot of apologizing to do today.
A single message from (Name) greets Pedri in the morning and he couldn't control the smile breaking out from his lips.
But the cryptic emotion in it is worrying. It feels wrong.
omg i really loved the pedri fic it was amazing 😍 but is there going to be a part 2 ?? Cuz I need to know what happened at the end (ps: you are such a great writer )
Thank you! There's going to be part 2, dw. I'll try to get it up by Thursday or Friday
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Walking into your dagger for the very last time– Pedri
summary: At seven, Pedri wondered if soulmates truly exist. He didn't expect to find his in seven years through the virtual world.
Or in which Pedri meets someone in a video game lobby and shenanigan ensues
Contains: fluff, little bit of angst, not a happy ending, mentions of feeling lonely, the pandemic, injuries
this ended up being more Pedri centric then I imagined. Obviously some stuff are made up because I don't know Pedri. Enjoy!!!
Pedri is thirteen years old the first time he gets into an argument with his manager, and it feels like the worst thing in the world.
Football is everything to him, so why can't the coach understand? Why can't his coach see that?
He would've been fine if it was just another league game – hell, he would've accepted not playing or even losing, if it was just another league game. But it was Copa de Campeones final! His sole chance of being in Europe.
So what if he accidentally injured himself while making a tackle? So what if the medical team thinks he should rest?
So fucking what? At thirteen, football is his lifeline. Why can't his manager just understand?
***
So, Pedri does what any teen forced to sit out and watch his team lose a final would do; lock himself in his bedroom and play one video game he would not play in any other circumstance. CS:GO (Counter-Strike: Global Offense) with strangers from God knows where.
Pedri knows he'll regret staying up this late but he doesn't care. That's for future Pedri to worry about. His focus now is on shooting strangers in the virtual world and he'd be lying if he says he isn't enjoying this.
***
It's past midnight and he waits in the lobby, pondering.
Thinking if his coach was serious about not playing him anymore and about so much more which doesn't help at all to ease his sudden spike in nervousness about the future and what it holds.
Someone with the gamer tag [Username] joins to complete the lobby. Pedri's certain he'll forget about them tomorrow, like everyone else.
***
Pedri has a natural talent for many things; football, disappointing his manager and as of now– playing CSGO; he realizes that as the game progresses.
Except for one round, where he lets his mind wander somewhere else and nearly ruins it for everyone. Fortunately for him, his saviour comes in the form of one stranger from who-knows-where, one who Pedri was sure he'd forget about.
Pedri likes them immediately. Unknowingly. Subconsciously. He feels an immediate connection with his mystery saviour for some strange reason.
"Thanks for saving my ass out there [Username]," he blurts out with haste, ready to log off.
And the reply comes a voice, a little clipped and barely audible to anyone else but clear as bells to Pedri's ears.
"You're welcome," before the mic goes silent again. Those to simple words would go on to shatter every single plan Pedri never made about his life trajectory and throw them into the gutter.
He doesn't know it yet but this'll be simultaneously the best and most painful thing that would ever happened to him.
Pedri ends up saving the gamer tag of his saviour stranger and reaches out whenever he needs someone to play with or fill the lobby.
Or that is what he tells himself.
Sometimes he invites them when he has a bad game or another argument with his manager. At times just because. And to Pedri's surprise, the stranger responds to his 'pleas' almost every time.
A part of him is happy that they don't ignore him. Yet, another part underneath the surface is also scared that one day, this stranger he's growing fond of, will leave him without saying goodbye and he'll be left to his own again.
Deep inside him there's a creature that won't show up in x-rays, one that is always trying to protect Pedri's soul.
One that has been urging him to finally properly talk to this stranger, make a deeper connection. Something that will stay forever. Perhaps a friendship that will transcend lifetimes. Maybe something even more…?
And today he finally surrenders to those thoughts in his mind.
Today his manager told him he won't be playing for a while. The worst that could happen at this point in his life, happened. He has nothing to lose now and he's never been more sure of it.
Today, with the news that he'd be sidelined, Pedri finally acts on his long-held impulse.
***
Pedri does it. He actually does it, uncertain if it's the correct decision. He sends the message, heart pounding, and anxiously waits for a reply.
Or not. He doesn't know. Maybe they finally got fed up with him. Maybe they don't care enough to reply.
A small sound emits from the computer, signifying a new message.
⊙ [Sir González]
Wanna be friends
⊙ [Username]
Sure, why not?
At fourteen years old, Pedri wonders, for the very first time, if it's possible to be friends with someone living thousands of miles away.
The thing about friendship is… sometimes you don't know when it started.
Pedri can't pinpoint when he and his stranger became friends.
If you were to ask Pedri when and how he formed this connection, he won't answer. Because he can't, he doesn't have answers to those questions.
But Pedri knows this is a friendship, he has a friend, be it in the virtual realm. He looks forward to talking to them through messages, cherishes playing with them everyday.
The possibility of gaining a friend through the screen isn't something Pedri ever considered, but he isn't going to complain.
One afternoon after training, he finds himself with a long list of notifications from his online friend. His stranger friend soon makes a habit of sharing their every passing thought to him.
He was taken aback the first time, but just like eagerly waiting for them each day after school or training, Pedri soon makes reading them an integral part of his life.
Sometimes fifty messages at once wait for him, sometimes ten with varying amounts of exclamation and capslock.
By June, he realizes his days without those messages feel incomplete. It has become a tradition for him to lock himself in his bedroom and seek comfort from those messages.
There's no denying this strangter is Pedri's best friend in the whole universe. He yearns to know more and more about them; what they like, where they live, do they see him the same way he does?
However, he can't quite answer their questions the same way, with the same enthusiasm.
Pedri is afraid; afraid they might judge him, or worse, ignore him if they learn more about him. They seem to understand that and he's grateful. But at some point, the stranger friend becomes cautious and quiet.
⊙ [Username]
today was fun. Same time tomorrow?
⊙ [Sir González] yeah.
I will message you if I have time.
⊙ [Username]
Sure, no problem.
By the way, what do you do half of the day lol
⊙ [Sir González] I...
I can't answer that. I am so sorry.
The moment those green dots turn gray, a sudden expected pain takes over Pedri's entire body. The reply comes after a painful five minutes of silence from the other side.
⊙ [Username]
I understand.
Talk you later then.
Today might be the day they reach their wits' end, he fears. And in impulse, he makes a significant decision.
Parting away from this could mean a goodbye, one that he's not willing to say. Not yet. Never.
⊙ [Sir González] Pedri.
⊙ [Username]
???
⊙ [Sir González]
My name, it's Pedri.
You can call me Pedri if you want.
This is the most vulnerable Pedri has ever been in his fourteen years of life and he can only pray that his friend doesn't leave and now.
⊙ [Username]
Pedri. Perfectly suits you.
Well Pedri, talk to you soon then.
And my name is (Name).
You call me that if you want :)
Later that night
2018
Things were going well, too well– he should've recognized that as the first warning of what was about to come.
He was becoming closer than ever with (Name), he was in his coach's good graces again and best of all– he was actually starting matches and doing well.
It just had to happen now.
***
The x-ray results came back worse than he had feared.
To be honest, he doesn't understand much of it but one look at the doctors, their pitiful look and guilty expression, said everything left unsaid.
He isn't a doctor but even he knows he words 'Hamstring', 'Ligament', 'ACL', and 'Torn' being in the same sentence can never mean anything good.
***
His phone flooded with notifications, finds Pedri in his room amidst distant noise.
Maybe it's his mother shouting at him not to slam doors like that, or perhaps it's the nagging creature inside that only knows how to make everything worse.
A single notification comes through, chiming, and illuminating the dark room as he's about to switch it to silent and throw it on the floor.
***
If it was anyone else, Pedri would just ignore and most definitely not talk to them for a long while. The last thing he needs now is pity. Pitying won't convince La liga clubs to sign him.
But he knows (Name) doesn't mean pity, they are just concerned. They radiate care, not fake sympathy.
He copies the number.
He writes the number.
He presses 'Call'.
Heart thumping, Pedri anxiously awaits a voice from the other side. "What the fuck am I doing," he sighs, running a hand through his hair. But just as he's about to put the phone down,
"Pedri?" He hears someone say faintly.
"Hey, (Name)." The name comes out like a prayer from his mouth.
"Hi," they say like a sigh, like a burden had just been lifted from them.
"So..um I have no idea how to comfort you because I don't have friends who play professional football," the nervous laughter on the other side is melodic and that is the moment Pedri learns even laughter can be a powerful weapon.
"But I just want to say it's going to get better, okay? I know this might seem like the end of the world now but it gets worse before it gets better."
There is a slight delay for a moment. "Wait no that sounded too depressing," mutters (Name). "Ignore me please. I have no idea what I'm saying."
Pedri smiles, even though he knows (Name) can't see him. "I get what you meant, don't worry. Thank you. It means more than you realize." The smile in his voice very clear, even to someone a thousand miles away.
"Pedri?" He hums in response, barely audible.
"I am here for you. Always."
Biting his lips, Pedri contemplates on adding the next bit. And in the next breath he says, "Love you (Name)."
His statement is met with silence. He waits and nothing comes. That feels worse than being told he sounded embarrassing.
"Oh," (Name) says, sounding cautious and confused. Pedri feels the singe of embarrassment. He starts to laugh nervously, ready to make excuse.
In the next moment, however, all the air in his lung rushed out in one breath.
"Love you too Pedri," (Name) says. "Talk to you tomorrow, hm?" His heart skips.
"Yeah, talk to you tomorrow," he mumbles.
Closing his eyes, Pedri holds dearly onto those four words, letting them settle in his heart, knowing he has found something truly precious in the most unexpected of places.
***
The same night, Pedri receives confirmation from the club– it's not as bad as they feared; a grade two hamstring tear. He'll only be out for four to eight weeks.
On that very same night, Pedri learns Las Palmas will sign him in July no matter what, and Pepe Mel, the coach, is willing to promote him to the first team, even at just sixteen.
That night, He dreams of the champions league, of being in Berlin and celebrating with a faceless companion.
2019
Pedri is sixteen the first time he contemplates quitting football to do something meaningful in life.
It's been a month since he signed for Las Palmas, two months since he started a game and four months since he last won a game.
The preseason game that he did started, shattered his confidence, leaving him questioning his place in football. And the persistent, nagging creature inside him is now whispering louder than ever, urging him to consider a different path.
Maybe he should quit football altogether. He is still young, there's still time to turn his life around, get a degree and a normal job in the future. Live a normal, ordinary life like most of the people of the world.
"Pedri watch out!"
He jumps at the sudden voice, almost falling down from his chair. He blinks to register what's on his screen, seeing the avatar of (Name) crouching in front of him.
"Pedri?" The concern in (Name)'s voice makes Pedri sit up.
He sinks back to his chair. Yet, again, he let his mind wander into the depths of self-doubt and ruin the amusement for everyone. He's convinced he has a knack for turning every moment sour.
"Sorry I zoned out," he mumbles. The groan in everyone else's voice confirms his self-loathing.
"I think that's enough for Pedri and I today. How about–" The voice of (Name) goes on on the other side gently.
Pedri can't comprehend the words being spoken but the sharp focus on their voice does wonder to soothe his racing heart.
It sounds harmonious, and soul soothing.
"Bye guys!" (Name) calls out at the end, their voice fading as others start to leave, bringing his focus on his screen again.
It's just (Name) and Pedri now, once again. A familiar comfort.
"You did very well today, Pedri," (Name) says, wholeheartedly. The sincere praise washes over Pedri, filling him with an electric rush.
The sensation in his chest resembles a cold rush. It's as if their voice is a gust of arctic wind sweeping through his heart, leaving behind a trail of shivers that dance along his spine.
Watching the green dots turn gray, Pedri's room seems to glow with the echoes of (Name)'s words through his phone.
(Name) 💘
Hey How did your training go?
Pedri 🌟
Shit but is it surprising anymore?
(Name) 💘
:(
Pedri 🌟
I am thinking about quitting football and doing something meaningful for once.
I mean I am still young so....
(Name) 💘
WHAT THE FUCK DON'T SAY THAT.
Football is meaningful because it means something to you!
Pedri 🌟
I don't know anymore (Name)...
(Name) 💘
Tell me do you feel happy when you play football?
Pedri 🌟
The happiest.
(Name) 💘
Then don't about that. It's not going to be easy, no good thing comes easily.
But You are such a great player at sixteen already, just imagine how great you could be when you are 21?!
But that won't happen if you quit now. It's not going to be easy but I know you can do it Pedri.
You will make it, I just know it.
Pedri 🌟
No one has told me I'll make it except my parents.
(Name) 💘
I'd be upset if you were parents weren't supportive.
Pedri, you will play in the Champions League, you will win trophies and you will make it.
All you have to do is have hope and you'll be 50% there, work for it and you'll be 100% there.
Pedri 🌟
You think so?
(Name) 💘
I know so.
Pedri 🌟
I will dedicate my first goal in champions league to you. I promise.
(Name) 💘
That's the spirit!
And I'll hold onto that promise, González.
Even if things go shit, I will be here for you, Pedri.
Always :).
Pedri is sixteen the last time he entertains the idea of quitting football to do something meaningful. In the gentle guidance of (Name)'s words, he finds the meaning he was searching for all along.
September, 2019
As he put the phone down, a warmth spread through Pedri's chest, and he couldn't help but wonder, Is this what it feels like to be truly cherished?
November, 2019
It felt as if his own eyes were betraying him. But it is the truth, Pedri will meet (Name) soon. The thought of playing right before (Name), finally being in their presence, fills him with an unexplainable euphoria.
This is not going to be one of his dreams anymore, this will be his reality in due time.
He is going to meet (Name) soon. And he can't wait.
March, 2020
Sometimes there comes moments in your life when you can just sense something is about to go wrong.
That day when Pedri woke up, he could tell something was about to go wrong. He had that sinking feeling. And turning his TV on, he knew why.
The Spanish borders are set to be closed for the next 15 days but given the state of the world, it's almost certain to be extended.
It is the right decision, Pedri has no doubt about that. But that doesn't stop the feelings of disappointment in him.
In his heart, Pedri holds tight onto the belief that everything will be alright; he has to have faith that their paths are destined to cross.
He has to.
December, 2021
This is not how it was supposed to go.
One minute, (Name) was happily engrossed in their work, content with the news of Pedri's goal. And in the next moment, all they hear is silence.
Then chaos.
Words like 'down', 'heavy tackle', 'unconscious' are being thrown around in relation to Pedri. (Name)'s heart drops.
Rushing to the room, they barely catch sight of Pedri being taken away in a stretcher on the TV screen.
(Name) 💘
Pedri are you okay??
Are you hurt?
God that's such a stupid question.
Please let me know how you are.
I love you.
It seems silly to expect Pedri to reply. After all, he was just taken away in a stretcher, of course he won't answer right away.
But (Name) can't stop themselves from calling him. In the voice message after the dial tone, they leave a message; praying and just praying Pedri will be alright.
***
An hour later, notifications from their phone catches (Name)'s attention. It's from Pedri.
Or rather, from his number.
Pedri 🌟
Hello. I am Ansu Fati, Pedri's friend.
You must (Name).
(Name) 💘
Oh. Hello.
Pedri 🌟
So you are Pedri's friend from the other side.
(Name) 💘
I guess?
Pedri 🌟
Well (Name), Pedri's currently going through some medical procedures, don't worry though.
He is in good hands.
He'll be back soon, (Name)
(Name) can only have hope that Ansu's words would proven to be true.
***
Rest of the day is spent restlessly scrolling and refreshing every and any social media they have, hoping for something, anything regarding Pedri.
For now it's all the same news being repeated by everyone; a player violently tackled Pedri, causing him to lose his balance and hit his head on the goal post. The medical team soon intervened and he was taken to hospital for further checkups.
(Name)'s heart beats restlessly. Is Pedri alright? It looked like a nasty hit and from what they've been reading, he was bleeding too.
Was he hurting too much? Was he in too much pain? God, why did this have to happen to him or anyone? Is he–
The ringing of the phone breaks (Name)'s chain of thought. Seeing the caller, they swiftly answer, not wasting a single moment.
"Hello? Pedri, are you okay?" Those words, breathlessly, comes out of them but the voice that returns on the other end isn't the one (Name) was hoping for.
"Um..hello, I am Ansu Fati. You are (Name), right? It's a pleasure to finally talk to you. Pedri has talked a lot about you."
Their chest tightens. The disappointment and sadness that they feel at it not being Pedri is unmatched. But (Name) has to stay strong now, if not for themselves then for Pedri.
"Uh, yes. Nice to talk to you too, Ansu. Pedri has told me a lot about you too, but I wish we were talking in better circumstances."
"Me too," Ansu says sadly. "I actually called you to let you know that Pedri is awake now. Since you've been so worried about him I wanted to ask, do you want to talk to him?"
(Name) instantly perks up at the news. They nod their head rapidly, before realizing that Ansu can't see them.
"Yes!" The feeling of embarrassment comes a moment later. Clearing their throat, (Name) says, "I mean, yes of course. I would love to talk to Pedri."
"I am sure Pedri would absolutely love to talk to you right now."
Heart thumping, (Name) spins the little marbles in a plastic container, waiting to hear from Pedri.
(Name) feels relieved to know Pedri has someone as thoughtful and kind as Ansu in his life.
***
Saying those words, Ansu hands the phone over to an eager Pedri who wastes no time in taking the call.
Faintly from the otherside, he hears (Name) asking Pedri about his health, in the same breath that Pedri asks them the same question.
The gentleness in Pedri's voice while talking to (Name) brings a smile on Ansu's face.
This is the purest form of love he has seen and deciding not to disturb them, he leaves the room as quietly as possible, leaving Pedri and his friend to themselves.
***
When Ansu comes back later to check on Pedri, the sight he finds warms his heart.
Pedri is on his side, snoring softly with his phone by his side. The call to (Name) is still ongoing and Ansu can hear soft snores from the other side too.
Smiling to himself, he quietly removes the phone from Pedri's side and ends the call. Sending a quick message to a worrying Gavi and Araujo, he leaves the room smiling widely.
Ansu is glad Pedri has someone as caring and loving as (Name) in his life.
***
In the weeks following, Ansu, Pedri and (Name) fall into a routine.
Every night, Pedri and (Name) would have their daily calling sessions that continue until late, where both fell asleep while talking to each other. And every night, without fail, Ansu ends the call and leaves with a bright smile.
During the day, Ansu would message (Name), giving them updates about Pedri.
At first (Name) hesitated to call him. Their bestfriend is a famous footballer, so they shouldn't feel hesitant to make the call.
Especially since they feel like they basically know Ansu based on how much Pedri has talked about him. And after one call with him, all the hesitancy and dobuts were lifted. Pedri was right, Ansu Fati is really a sweet soul.
Neither know exactly when they started to enjoy talking to each other, but one afternoon, while talking and laughing about something that didn't necessarily have anything to do with Pedri, (Name) knew they had found another friend in Ansu Fati in this chaos.
February, 2022
Pedri 🌟
Hello! 👋
(Name) 💘
Oh hello.
Sorry, I am out so I can't watch you play right now :(.
But I thought you said you won't be online till 9?
Xavi benched you?
Pedri 🌟
Oh yeah.
(Name) 💘
I am home now! I can finally watch you 😌
Pedri 🌟
DON'T.
(Name) 💘
??
Pedri.... I just saw you get tackled on TV.
Live.
Pedri 🌟
Funny thing you see....
(Name) 💘
Ah I see. This must mean you are one of Pedri's friends.
So are you Gavi or Ferran?
Pedri 🌟
Ferran.
(Name) 💘
That makes you Gavi then.
Hello Gavi. Nice to talk to you.
Pedri has talked about you lot.
Pedri 🌟
Really?
(Name) 💘
mhm.
You are the passenger princess!
Pedri 🌟
The....what?
(Name) 💘
Passenger princess. Someone who prefers being passenger.
You don't know how many times I had to listen him rant about this 😩.
Pedri 🌟
😃
(Name) 💘
He's also talked about how great of a player and friend you are.
Pedri 🌟
He's talked a lot about you too!
(Name) 💘
He has?
Pedri 🌟
Hm. Shit, Pedri's seen me.
(Name) 💘
Oh no.
Talk to you soon hopefully if you are found alive!
Pedri 🌟
Did you bother you?
I swear to god this guy....
(Name) 💘
Pedri!
I only watched the last 15 minutes but you were great!
And did not. Gavi was quite lovely, actually.
Pedri 🌟
🥰.
Are you sure?
I can do something about it if it made you uncomfortable.
(Name) 💘
Oh my god Pedri, no don't do it.
I appreciate it but he didn't do anything.
Don't worry.
Pedri 🌟
If you say so.
Shit i have to go now.
Talk to you later love you ❤💙
(Name) 💘
Score more for me
Love you too <3
April, 2022
Soon, Pedri will get to meet the person who made football special for him. He only has to wait till June. Only the months of April, May and June stand between Pedri and (Name).
June, 2022
A smile lit up (Name)'s face as they toss their phone onto the bed.
Tomorrow Pedri will be here, they will finally meet each other. Tomorrow is going to be the best day ever, (Name)'s certain.
But as is often the case, not everything goes in the way we envision.
June, 2022
Betrayal.
That's all (Name) could hear and feel.
Is this what it feels to be lied to, to feel betrayed?
(Name) blinks back the tears forming, taking a deep breath, and dialling Pedri's number for maybe the last time
Ending what they have is the right thing to do now, even if it hurts them both.
Summary: A year ago, Jude would have done anything to get (Name) out of his life. But now, standing here in London, he can't imagine being with someone else
Contains: fluff, the champion's league final, hints at an unhappy relationship. This doesn't that follow the actual final.
This is written as a sequel to Can we become we? but can be read as a standalone
The Champions League final.
It's been Jude's dream ever since he was a kid and he is glad (Name) is here with him on such an important day of his life.
A year ago, he would have been annoyed that his mother brought (Name) to the Champions League final with them. But now, he can't imagine how he would have made this far without her.
“Good luck,” (Name) tells him one last time, squeezing his hand in reassurance. Jude smiles at her and jogs to catch up with his teammates.
Ten minutes pass in the blink of an eye and soon, the scorecard at the stadium shows Real Madrid 4-4 Dortmund. Nico Schlotterbeck misses his penalty and the Spanish side erupts with joy.
(Name) holds her hands together in front of her as Jude sets the ball down before the goal post. He looks at her one last time before letting out a deep breath and focusing ahead.
(Name) closes her eyes, praying for the ball to go into the net without any problem.
There is a brief moment of silence before the sound of screaming reaches her ears. She opens their eyes to see Jude's mother hugging her husband with tears.
He's done it. Real Madrid won, and Jude is an European champion now and (Name) is there to witness it all in person.
The players of the Spanish side hug Jude one by one and soon, he frees himself from them while moving towards the stands.
(Name) watches him jump over the steps and move toward them. She has both of her hands on their face, trying to blink away the tears.
He hugs (Name) immediately after reaching the area where his family is sitting. The hug feels like a lifeline, the warmth enveloping him as (Name)’s arms wrap around his shoulders.
He whispers, “I did it,” and she responds with a gentle squeeze first. “You did it.”
The hug lingers for a moment longer before Jude pulls away. His smile remains as he turns to hug his mother and so does (Name)’s. His hand finds hers, a silent reassurance amidst all the excitement around them.
As Jude is descending back to the pitch, an impromptu decision takes hold of him.
He pauses, retracing his steps to the stands and holds (Name)’s face with his hands, leaving a tender kiss on the cheek.
(Name) is left stunned as he makes his way back to his teammates, laughter trailing behind him.
She lightly touches the spot where Jude's lip met her cheek. A serene smile graces her lips as the sound of excitement from the crowd reaches her ears.
Jude is bubbling with excitement on the pitch, eagerly anticipating the moment to receive his winners medal and lift the Champions League trophy.
Amidst the excitement, he finds himself stealing glances back at (Name), who is engrossed in conversation with his family. Each time their eyes meet, a wide smile effortlessly spreads across his face.
(Name) makes her way to the pitch alongside Jude's family, after continuous insistence from his Mother
As she stand behind, (Name) watches with a gentle smile as Jude proudly shows his mother the medal. His mother's next actions are an affectionate hug, followed by a playful shove.
Jude stumbles a little and catches (Name)’s gaze. Time seems to stand still as their eyes lock.
Without any audible words, the two rush towards each other. In a rush of emotions, Jude's arms wrap around (Name).
She says something to him with visible excitement but his eyes remain transfixed on (Name)’s.
Jude's ecstasy bursts forth as he embraces (Name) once more, this time lifting her up off the ground. “I did it!” he says, his voice filled with exhilaration and pride.
“You did!” (Name) responds with a yelp of excitement.
As the laughter subsides, Jude, without a second thought, tenderly brings (Name)’s head close to his heart, the rapid beat of his heart matching the rhythm of their laughter.
The mixture of laughter and elation fills the air, catching Luka's attention.
As he watches, (Name) breaks away from the hug and Jude places his medal around her neck. A moment of pure playful chaos nearly causes them to lose balance but Jude swiftly catches her just in time.
Luka can't help but smile witnessing this. So this is what young love looks like, he thinks.
Throughout the night, Jude remains inseparable from (Name).
He firmly holds her hand wherever he goes, whether navigating through the pitch or attending interviews, his grip on her hand remains constant.
Even when he momentarily lets go during interviews, Jude effortlessly manages to include (Name) into the conversation, subtly referencing or gesturing towards her.
The flustered face of his wife followed by a smile strong enough to lighten up the entire stadium never fails to make his heart race, not even for a moment.
(Name) suddenly sits down on the ground, tugging Jude's body with her.
“Tired?” he asks with a laugh. (Name) laughs a little too. “A little. The penalties were nerve-wracking.”
“I think I was more nervous than you,” she says with a laugh as Jude sits down beside her.
They just stare at each other lovingly; the world seems to have stopped and it's just the two of them and their love for each other left.
Their eyes tear from each other at the sound of a loud explosion. “Fireworks,” (Name) quietly lets out as her eyes move up to the sky. Jude's eyes remain fixed on them, watching a small smile form.
And that smile, he thinks, it's more beautiful than the entire star-filled sky.
Jude's mind goes back to the dream he had all those years ago. The ground, London, fireworks painting the dark sky– this is his reality now.
And God, it is so much better than all the dreams he had.
A year ago, he would have been fuming to learn that the person from his dreams is (Name).
But now, he can't imagine it being someone else.
(Name) looks back with the same ethereal smile. Is this what heaven looks like?
As the sound of fireworks grow louder, painting the dark sky, (Name) and Jude lean forward.
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Summary: Jude wonders, just what horrible sin he committed to deserve a punishment like this– being 'coached' by his teammates on how to become a husband.
Not a good one, certainly not a bad one but just a husband.
contains: fluff, crack, implied unwanted marriage, use of the word 'forced marriage', Harry Kane and Ancelotti make an appearance, marriage of convenience or is it?
*Mina is Valverde's partner, Luz is Brahim's girlfriend, Ana/Anastasia is Lunin's partner, Laura is Rudiger's wife and Vanja is Luka's wife.
1.
“Why is she even married to a man like you?”
“She's kind of forced to, Luka.”
Jude finds himself bewildered as his teammates discuss his marriage, a topic that seems to have spread like wildfire among them.
He tries to interject, emphasizing the temporary nature of his marriage but his words seem to fall on deaf ears.
Even more puzzling is how they got the information that he let his wife return to Madrid alone after the last El Clasico.
He didn't, he tries to clarify multiple times but despite his attempts to explain the situation and reassure them, his teammates just don't seem to listen. Now, he finds himself enduring Luka’s lecture on marriage and marital responsibility.
An hour ago, his teammates were oblivious to his relationship status, and now they are judging him for being an ‘awful’ husband.
Jude can't help feeling this sudden annoyance about Brahim and Luz. This is all their fault, probably.
He rubs his eyes as Fede says something to him and though he nods, he only half-heard what was said.
Amidst the chaos, the players fail to notice Ancelotti's arrival until his voice cuts through the chatter.
“Bellingham,” Jude straightens up instantly hearing his coach's voice and everyone falls silent. “Go invite your wife to the bus.”
With a resigned “Yes coach,” Jude's attempt to maintain authority is overshadowed by his teammates' laughter.
“(Name)?” Jude calls out towards the stands, where Luz and (Name) are chatting. She turns to him and he gestures for her to come over.
“Let's,” he starts, his voice faltering for a moment. The idea of leaving immediately crosses his mind, but (Name)'s reassuring smile stops him in his tracks. It's warm and comforting, urging him to stay.
Instead of fleeing, Jude clears his throat and continues. “Let's go home together.”
“On the bus?” She asks and he nods. Her smile grows slightly, and she responds with a soft ‘alright' before darting back to Luz.
Jude watches as (Name) bids farewell to Luz and later Mina before her way back to him. “Let's go,” she says, adjusting her bag and reaching for his hand.
Jude looks down at their intertwined fingers for a moment, feeling a sensation he can't explain, before nodding and walking towards the bus with his wife.
His wife, (Name). It has a nice ring to it.
2.
“Jude move a little closer to (Name), please.”
The second time Arda tells him to do so, Jude sighs.
It was bad enough that he was being ‘coached’ by his older teammates and their partners on how to become a ‘husband’, they didn't need to involve Arda into this too.
As Jude reluctantly inches closer to (Name), he wishes he didn't look over her shoulder.
Jude has no idea why Antonio, of all people, is now involved in his marriage antics. He suspects it has to do something with Laura, Antonio’s wife, taking a liking to (Name).
Jude recalls Laura and Vanja instructions before the photo shoot and he wonders if this is what Antonio is trying to gesture with his eyes.
Reluctantly, Jude obeys, not wanting Antonio or Mina or anyone's warning glances.
He hesitates for a moment before draping his arm around (Name)’s shoulders, feeling her warmth against him. She smiles at him, and Jude can't help but return the smile.
Later, as Jude looks at the photos, he can't deny thinking that they do look cute together.
Only a little bit, he swears.
3.
As Jude wakes from his sleep, he feels the weight of (Name)’s body against his. They had fallen asleep while watching a movie and now, she lies peacefully on top of him.
It had been Luka and Vanja’s idea to organize a movie night. Jude was hesitant about it then but now, as he gazes down at (Name)’s sleeping figure, a warmth blossoms in his chest.
With a soft smile, he wraps his arms around her, pulling her closer, before drifting back into sleep.
Maybe, just maybe, this marriage thing might not be so bad after all.
4.
“Jude Victor William Bellingham, if you don't ask your wife for a dance in 10 minutes, I am kicking you out of this party.”
“It's not even yours, Mina.”
“Shut up.”
Jude wonders just what bad deeds he did to deserve a friend group like this.
He halts in his steps for the fourth time, glancing back over his shoulder, and sure enough, Mina and Luz are still standing there. Mina’s glare doesn't relent, so Jude sighs and continues walking.
As he reaches the entrance of the dining hall, his eyes land on (Name) sitting alone on a table at the end of the room. She looks around from time to time, probably waiting for Luz.
‘What a fantastic friend Luz is,’ Jude thinks to himself sarcastically, ‘leaving her friend all alone after begging her to come here.’
A small smile finds (Name)’s lips as she catches Jude walking over to her.
Jude could run away now, pretending he never saw her. But something about her hopeful smile makes him reconsider.
Taking a deep breath, Jude approaches (Name) and clears his throat. With a shy smile, he extends his hand, remembering Fede’s advice to at least pretend he's interested.
“Would you like to dance?” (Name)’s eyes light up with surprise and delight. "I'd love to."
When they step onto the dance floor, Jude's nerves start to show.
(Name) laughs at his clumsy attempts to follow her steps, but her laughter is infectious and soon, he finds himself laughing along with her.
She guides Jude through the steps with gentle encouragement. “Just relax and let the music guide you,” she says, her voice soft and reassuring.
As they dance, Jude's nerves start to melt away.
With each step, he feels himself getting more confident. Their laughter blends with the music as he twirls (Name) around the dance floor.
She has a nice smile, Jude thinks to himself.
5.
Jude is starting to feel a little proud over his development as a ‘good partner’ and credit for none of it goes to any of his teammates or their partners, he likes to think.
He sits in his car, feeling a sense of accomplishment for being the one to drop (Name) off at work. It was his idea entirely and he totally didn't take the help of the internet for it.
As he parks in front of her workplace, he turns to her. “I'll pick you up at five,” Jude says, trying to sound confident.
(Name) smiles in response and nods at him. Her smile seems to have an effect on him lately, he can't quite explain why.
But then, something unexpected happened. (Name)’s hand freezes on the handle for a moment, before making her next move.
She turns back to him, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. Jude is caught off guard, but he instinctively returns the gesture.
Before he can fully process what just happened, (Name) pulls away and waves goodbye, leaving Jude sitting in the car, feeling dazed yet strangely content.
This felt nice.
Jude
If you learned that there's something Katie's wanting for a long time but couldn't manage to get,
Would you get it her and would it make a good surprise?
Harry
I would and it would.
Why are you asking?
Jude
So, hypothetically if I had a missus and I was you and my missus was Katie in this scenario, I should get it for her cause it would make a good surprise, right?
Hypothetically.
Harry
Yes, hypothetically.
Jude
Thanks.
Harry
You have a missus?
Jude?
(Name) isn't sure when was the last time Jude looked this nervous. It's a side of him she doesn't see often, not even during the most high stakes of games.
As she approaches him, she can't help but recall the way he had looked at Vanja's birthday. The same nervous energy seems to radiate from him now.
“What is it?” (Name) asks gently, her smile reassuring Jude, who visibly calms down.
Jude closes his eyes, taking a deep breath before opening them again. He takes (Name)’s hand and in a swift move, places a small box in her palm.
(Name) looks at him curiously, then starts to open the box. As she lifts the lid, her expression turns to one of shock.
“I um,” he begins, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, “I heard from Luz that this is something you've been wanting for a while but the tickets weren't available. So, I…” he trails off, waiting for her response.
When she remains silent, Jude calls her name, growing increasingly worried the longer she stays quiet.
When he calls her name again, (Name) suddenly hugs him, taking Jude by surprise.
His heart races and soon, a smile spreads across his face. He wraps his arms around (Name), feeling their heartbeats syncing.
“Thank you so much Jude,” (Name) whispers into the embrace.
They stand there, held in each other's arms. Reluctantly, (Name) eventually pulls back, a shy but content smile playing on her lips. What she does next stuns him once more.
(Name) gently holds Jude's face and plants a tender kiss on his cheek before leaving the room.
Jude touches the spot where her lips met his cheek. A smile graces his lips as the sound of (Name)'s excited voice reaches his ears from the other room.
He won't mind this happening often.
Luka
Did you get a ticket for (Name)?
Jude
No.
Luka
Why
Jude
I don't know?
Mina
what does ‘I don't know’ mean?
Jude
It means I didn't get one for because I don't know if she likes the band.
Ana
you don't know what your own wife likes?
Jude
you make me sound like an awful husband, Ana.
Vanja
No offence but you sound like one Jude.
Jude
Unbelievable.
I just remembered,
(Name) doesn't even like the band.
Brahim
He is lying.
Luz says (Name) loves them
Luka
Jude.
Vanja
Jude.
Mina
Jude.
Ana
Jude.
Jude
All of you are going to believe Luz over me??
Mina
I mean Luz is her best friend and I don't see why she would lie about something like this
Jude
ugh.
Fine.
I got tickets for her.
Happy?
Luka
Did you?
Luz
He did.
(Name)’s been telling me for the last few minutes how happy and excited she is.
Jude
She is?
Luz
yes, very happy and excited.
Good job Jode
*Jude 👍
The moment Jude turns to the stairs, he feels his breath catch in his throat.
There (Name) stands, at the top of stairs with Mina, her smile lighting up the room in a way that makes everything else seems dim in comparison.
For a moment, Jude is frozen in place. It's as if time stands still, and he can't help but marvel at her beauty.
He feels a warmth spread through him that he can't quite explain.
Fede, Brahim and Luz, who were joking and laughing just moments ago, fall silent as they see of Jude's reaction.
“Jude, are you alright?” Brahim asks with a teasing grin. Jude can only nod, unable to tear his eyes away from his wife.
“Looks like someone's in love," Luz chimes in with a chuckle."
"Yeah, dude, you're making us look bad with all that romance," adds Brahim and nudges him playfully. “And you are supposed to be the awful one at romance!”
“Wow,” is all he can manage, making (Name)’s smile wider.
Jude finally manages to tear his gaze away from (Name) to glance at his friends, who are all watching him with amused expressions.
"She's just...wow," Jude manages to stammer out.
His friends share knowing looks and teasing smiles before Brahim claps him in the back. "Go on, then. Don't keep her waiting.”
(Name)’s lips curl up as Jude finally gathers himself and makes his way towards her. “Hi,” he manages to get out.
“Hey,” (Name) replies.
After a brief pause, Jude musters up courage. “You look…beautiful,” and before he can stop himself, the next words come tumbling out. “So beautiful.”
(Name) continues to smile at him and extends her hand and gestures for Jude to take it.
Jude takes a breath in to calm his racing heart and smiles.
“Let's go.”
Later, when (Name) rests her head on Jude's shoulder at the end of the concert, he doesn't feel the annoyance he would have months ago.
Instead, a smile finds its way to his face as he pulls (Name) closer to him.
Maybe, just maybe, he thinks to himself, he and (Name) can be something special.
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