#arsenal reader

when you heard the news that jana had signed for london city lionesses, you were as shocked as everyone else. both laia and mariona had told you that they thought she’d stay, follow in alexia’s footsteps and end up wearing the captain's armband for her childhood club. yet it didn’t quite work out that way. 

though seeing her play for a different team excited you, a different play style, a different role, different players around her. so when the first game of the season came around, you were a little more excited than usual. 

-

she was good, but you already knew that. you found yourself having to be especially quick when faced with her, timing your crosses well enough so she didn’t catch up to you. luckily, you just about made it work, winning 2-0 with your name down for an assist. 

it was the first game of the season, you were back at the emirates, surrounded by fans who embodied what it was to be a part of the club, you were completely ecstatic. 

so when laia came over to you, her hand dragging jana in your direction you didn’t think much of it, nothing more than your close friend properly introducing you to one of her national teammates who had now become someone to keep an eye on for future games.

“chica, come and meet jana.” she smiled, her arm wrapping around jana’s shoulder as she pulled her to face you. 

“hola, como estas?” you asked, watching the small smile that appeared on her face as you attempted to use her native language. you had learnt some when laia first transferred, then some more when mariona joined, wanting them to feel at home wherever possible. 

jana turned to laia, a slightly amused look on her face, speaking before turning back to look at you, “no me dijiste que ella habla español.“ (you didn’t tell me she spoke spanish.)

“un poco, solo para ayudar a las chicas.” you laughed slightly, laia wiggling her eyebrows as you spoke that only made you laugh further.. (a little, only to help the girls.)

jana was quiet for a moment, attempting to hide the smile that tugged at her lips, “you played well, your assist was really impressive.”

part of you was slightly taken aback by her compliment, you knew she was nice, it’s something laia and mariona constantly mentioned when they praised their teammates, but you didn’t expect that kindness after you helped put 2 goals past her new team. 

“thank you, the same goes for you, seems like you might be someone to look out for this season.” 

she huffed a short laugh, the corner of her mouth twitching like she was trying not to smile too much. “we’ll see,” she said, eyes catching yours for a moment longer than necessary, “one game doesn’t make a season, i’m still getting used to this league.”

you nodded slowly, watching her “true,” you agreed, folding your arms across your chest, your shirt still clinging to your back with sweat, “but it’s a pretty good start.”

jana tilted her head, the smile finally breaking through,  “maybe next time, i’ll stop your cross.”

“maybe next time, you’ll try.”

it slipped out before you could catch it, playful, maybe a little smug. laia let out a low whistle beside you, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth she had the privilege of witnessing.

jana raised an eyebrow, her smile morphing into a smirk, “is that a challenge?”

you shrugged, already turning slightly, pretending not to be affected by the way she was looking at you, “just saying, i’m not easy to mark.”

“laia,” jana tutted, mock-whispering, “tu amiga es un poco chula.” (your friend is a bit cocky.)

“solo un poco.” laia laughed, throwing you a wink. (only a little.)

but when you glanced back at jana, she was still watching you. the smirk was still there.

“good luck this season,” she said, taking a step back, but not turning away just yet, “i think it’s going to be interesting.”

you simply nodded, holding back the smile that was waiting to come out, “yeah. i think it will be.”

-

the buzz in the changing room was electric. it was the first win of the season, a clean sheet and good football. you were halfway through unlacing your boots when laia dropped down onto the bench beside you with a thud, arms crossed, a knowing grin already plastered across her face.

“you’ve got some explaining to do.” she said in a singsong voice, nudging your knee with hers.

you glanced at her, brows raised, “about what?”

she gave you a look, “don’t play dumb. i’m talking about jana.”

you blinked, reaching for your water bottle, playing it cool, “what about her?”

laia scoffed, “what about her, she says. the whole conversation was practically flirting. i felt like i needed to give you two some space.”

you laughed, nearly spitting out your water, “laia, come on. we just talked. it was friendly.”

“friendly,” she repeated, dragging the word out. “right. because ‘maybe next time you’ll try’ is a common phrase for good sportsmanship?”

you shook your head, a small laugh leaving your lips, “it was just banter. she started it.”

laia leaned in a little, dropping her voice, “you know she asked me about you after. in the tunnel.”

you paused, “seriously?”

“she said you were… interesting,” laia said, drawing air quotes with her fingers, “whatever that means.”

you shrugged, but your heart did a small, unexpected skip, “i mean, i am interesting.”

she rolled her eyes, grinning, “you’re ridiculous is what you are.

-

the glow of your laptop screen lit up your dark room, the soft murmur of the show you'd been meaning to catch up on playing in the background. something with subtitles you’d promised yourself you’d focus on. you told yourself you’d go to bed early. watch that show everyone was talking about. but somewhere between the first episode and the second, your mind wandered. and when it did, it wandered to her.

your phone was in your hand, thumb mindlessly scrolling, notifications cleared, messages unanswered. without even thinking, you were already on instagram. and then you were on her profile.

@ janafernandez3

here you were, wrapped in your sheets, screen dimmed low like you were doing something you shouldn’t be, scrolling through her feed like it was homework.

she was consistent. it was mostly match day stuff, photos with teammates, a few from holidays or the beach, coffee shops, her with a book in her lap and sunglasses on, captioned with something soft in catalan. you didn’t even know what the caption meant, but you liked how it looked. 

how she looked.

your finger paused on a photo from a month ago. she was stood in front of a garage door, her hands tucked into her pockets, and a bright smile across her face that had you captivated. she wasn’t looking at the camera. you could tell someone who knew her well had taken it. there was something unguarded in it, something calm.

before you could stop yourself, your thumb tapped the screen.

double tapped.

and that stupid red heart appeared.

yet you froze.

“shit.” you paused for a moment, realising what you had actually done, “shit, shit, shit, shit.” 

you’d just liked a month old photo at 11:47 pm, the same day you played against her. you scrambled, trying to un-like it, the heart disappearing with another tap, but your brain was already spiraling.

what if she had notifications on? what if she saw it?

you let out a groan, flopping onto your back and dragging your hands over your face. 

your phone buzzed a second later. heart in your throat, you glanced down.

one notification. an instagram dm 

jana fernandez - 👀

just the eyes. your stomach flipped but your fingers were already typing. 

you - just scoping out the competition.

it wasn’t even a full minute before your message was marked with ‘seen’, and then the three dots so you knew she was typing. 

jana fernandez - you waited until after playing against each other? arsenal have some strange tactics. 

you couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at your lips as you read her response. 

you - mhm you could say that. settling into london well?

jana fernandez - it’s different, but i like it. i could do with a tour of some local recommendations though. 

you stared at your phone, slightly taken aback at the sheer confidence she portrayed even though a simple message. your fingers stuttered as you tried to think of a reply that oozed the same confidence. 

jana fernandez - that’s me asking you on a date, in case that wasn’t obvious. 

realistically, you wanted to play it cool, act as if her confidence hadn’t already chipped away at your ‘on the pitch’ facade ever so slightly, yet your heart was beating so fast you could feel it in every part of your body.

you - i suppose i’ve got a couple days off that need filling 

it took a couple minutes for her to reply, you watched the three dots appear and disappear a few times. all of a sudden you were worried your response was too much, or not enough.

jana fernandez - perfect, it’s a date, hopefully i can keep up this time

-

a few days later you sent her the address of your favourite coffee shop. although it wasn’t in london, you had opted to give her a tour of st albans, the place that had become your home after moving to arsenal. much quieter than london, but with just as much charm. 

you had ordered your drink and found home in your favourite corner, one slightly hidden in the back but not too hidden so the sun still shone perfectly through the big windows and lit up the table. 

you’d gotten there early, your nerves eating away at you all morning at the possibility something could go wrong. what if she didn’t like the ‘off the pitch’ version of you, the less-cocky, slightly indecisive, incredibly nervous and mostly introverted person you were away from the confidence football gave you. 

it wasn’t long before the bell above the door chimed, and jana stepped in. she scanned the room for a moment, her eyes catching yours almost immediately and a smile crossing her face. the cafe was bright before she stepped in it, but it was even brighter with her inside. 

she clutched at a jacket, wearing grey trousers and a t-shirt that looked so casual yet suited her perfectly. her hair falling down her back, her eyes were bright and so effortlessly pretty. her gaze softened when she saw you.

“hi.” she smiled, making her way over to your table.

“hi.” you copied, the same smile across your face, standing up as she reached you, greeting each other with a small hug that definitely lingered a second past friendly. 

“i didn’t know your order, but i probably should’ve waited for you to order, but i just did what i usually do so by the time i realised that i was already sat down, so uh i’m sorry.” you rambled, your head nudging to the full cup of coffee that sat on the table you claimed. 

you watched as a slight look of confusion crossed her face, before it was replaced with a look that held reassurance. “no no it’s okay, honestly i would’ve ordered my drink if i got here before you anyways so it’s all good.” her hand came out to squeeze your arm slightly, and you could’ve swore your heart skipped a beat. 

-

you spent the next few hours wandering around the small, charming town. conversation flowed easily, sharing stories about your life in and away from football and sharing little facts you had learnt about the area since moving. you didn’t feel like you had to put on a facade, a show of confidence that you knew who you were and you were sure about it. it was as if you were completely relaxed around her, even after barely knowing her. 

you took her to st albans cathedral, one of your favorite spots, a place that always made you feel small and humble. you showed jana the stained-glass windows, the high vaulted ceilings, and the peaceful atmosphere inside.

you were both staring up at the windows, trying to decipher the patterns of the coloured glass that sat high on the wall. 

“it’s really impressive, pretty big too.” jana said softly, her voice vibrating against the stone walls.

“i know,” you turned to face her, “if you come at the right time the sun shines through the window and paints patterns against the walls, it’s honestly beautiful. i have a picture, if you’d like to see.” 

she nodded, smiling as her eyes lingering on the intricate details of the architecture before meeting your eyes, “i’d love that, i can see why you like it.”

afterwards, you took her to a couple of your favorite local bookshops. there was one in particular, an old shop with narrow aisles that smelled of paper and leather. it was the kind of place where you could get lost for hours, small armchairs dotted around so you could just flipping through old novels and unexpected gems.

jana picked up a book about the history of football, flipping through its pages with a thoughtful expression. you stood next to her, peering over her shoulder as she looked, your arm brushing hers slightly as you pointed out a picture on the page. 

“that’s from my hometown, they’re big on football.” you said proudly, smiling as the image of your ‘welcome home, champion!’ party from your champions league win played in your head. 

she could see your smile out of the corner of her eye, warming her heart as she spoke, “barcelona is the same, it’s like if you don’t like football, you’re very strange.” she laughed, and you couldn’t help but laugh too.

you were silent for a moment, still reading over her shoulder before she spoke again.

“i’ll admit,” she said, book shutting as she turned to face you, “i didn’t expect you to be a bookworm.”

you let out a small laugh, trying to ignore the very little distance that was now separating you, “there’s a lot about me you probably didn’t expect.”

you watched as she tilted her head slightly, eyebrows raising, “i’m starting to realize that.”

you continued your tour of st albans, walking down the cobbled streets as you pointed out a few more of your favourite places, rambling about past memories that made your heart warm. the whole time, jana seemed more like an old friend than someone you’d only just met a week ago. 

eventually, you found yourselves walking along the river that streamed through the park, the sun starting to dip lower in the sky, casting a golden glow across the water. it was quiet here, except for the occasional sound of birds or the soft rustle of leaves in the trees.

"this is nice," jana said quietly, her gaze fixed on the water, the late sun casting soft ripples of gold across the surface, "i didn’t realize how beautiful it was here."

you glanced at her, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth, "you just have to know where to look."

she turned toward you then, her expression warmer, softer than it had been all day, "i’m glad you showed me around." her voice carried a slight tease, "this is much better than codi’s offer of nando’s and ‘wandering’"

you laughed. "yeah, i’d hope so." you nudged her lightly with your shoulder. "we should do this more often."

jana didn’t answer right away. she seemed to be thinking, her eyes flicking from yours to the sky and back again. then, more tentatively, she asked, "do you have any dinner plans?"

you shook your head, curious, "nope. why?"

there was the tiniest beat of hesitation before she spoke. "maybe i could cook for you?" her voice was gentle, almost uncertain, "if you’d like."

you blinked, not even trying to fight the smile spreading across your face, "really?"

she gave a small nod, her lips curving upward, "yeah… if that’s okay with you."

you tilted your head slightly, "i’d love that, as long as you're a better cook than laia."

jana laughed, a sound that felt completely genuine, "i’m definitely a better cook than codi." she bumped your arm lightly with hers, "you’re in very safe hands."

-

the walk back to your flat from the park was short, barely ten minutes, but something about it felt slower. the streets were quiet, covered in an early evening glow. you walked side by side, your arms occasionally brushing, and though you weren’t saying much, the silence was easy.

you glanced at her, “still sure about cooking? i could always offer a world class bowl of cereal.”

jana rolled her eyes, smiling, “let me in the kitchen and you’ll thank me later.”

inside, your flat felt different with her in it. she wandered into the kitchen like she belonged there, already rolling up her sleeves. you leaned against the counter, arms folded, watching as she pulled ingredients out of the shopping bag after stopping at the corner shop; onions, potatoes, eggs, a few things she picked up without saying much else.

“tortilla de patatas.” she announced, clapping her hands, before pulling a pan from the rack, “you’re about to experience spanish greatness.”

you smirked, “very confident.”

she turned, eyes glinting, “accurate.”

you let her take over the kitchen, only stepping in once to offer a chopping board, which she accepted with a soft ‘gràcies.’ the scent of caramelising onions and garlic quickly filled the space, something that made your flat feel less like just yours, more like it was shared, even if it was just for tonight.

she stirred the simmering sauce on the side, dipping a spoon into it before turning to you.

“come here.”

you stepped forward, raising a brow, “bossy.”

“shut up,” she said, amused, holding the spoon up to your lips, “taste.”

you did, and immediately groaned, “okay. fine. that’s actually insane.”

“i told you.”

the tortilla was golden and steaming by the time you were both sat on the couch, plates in your laps. the lights were low, just the lamp in the corner and the lingering streetlights filtering in through the half-drawn curtain. the playlist she’d put on earlier was still going in the background, mellow and slow.

you took another bite and leaned your head back against the cushion with a content sigh, “this is ridiculous. how are you good at football and this?”

she nudged you lightly with her knee, “some of us are multi-talented.”

both of you were quiet for a few moments, appreciating the food she had made more than you expected to, “you’re different away from football, i like this version of you.”

you felt your cheeks warm up, just those few words from her made your heart light up. you turned your head to look at her, the soft lighting catching the edge of her jaw, the curve of her smile.

“so, what happens if i ask you to cook again?”

she glanced sideways at you, her eyebrows raised softly, “depends, is it another date?” 

“you could definitely say that.”  you held her gaze for a moment, your voice softer now.

her smile widened, “well then,” she said, brushing her fingers against yours as she reached for her glass, “i guess it’s a date.”