bunny would genuinely be staring at your bump 24/7; he’d always tease you about it; “i filled you with a little bunny, que lindo.—próxima vez; te voy a llenar con una camada de conejitos.” and laugh right after while your face is starting to feel hot; and the tips of your ears shading into a pink tint.
he always rushes over to help you carry anything; it doesn’t matter if its heavy or not; he will NOT let you carry anything;— “bun, im not that weak; I can carry everything just fine—.” “no, let me carry it; i don’t care. sit down.” you have no choice but to sit down on the couch as you see him walk back and forth grabbing and putting bags inside the house.
he’d always keep track of your cravings; doesn’t matter if you ate it once; or mention it once—this guy is like a restocker; restocking food you crave during your pregnancy.. “how did he know..?” —you say to yourself.
calls you “mami” , “mama” or “mamacita” every single time.
“buenos días mami.” he says standing in front of the bed as you sit up, rub your eyes and yawn softly. you blush slightly as you receive a kiss from him.
“you look hot mama.” he says as you did a cute hairstyle on your hair.
every time he comes back from training or from a soccer match; the first thing he hears from you is; “massaageee…masageeee…pleaseee….” you groan as bunny hasn’t even enetered the house properly; he can hear your groans from OUTSIDE while he’s trying to fit the key inside the lock; —looking like a MESS — but eventually massaging you while you sigh in relief; your husband STILL dripping sweat from his forehead from soccer
—————————————————————
ⓘ story made by gynsaira! [worst one so far i literally have no motivation :cry:]
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What Lamine Yamal did wasn't just a fleeting gesture, but a humanitarian message that reached the whole world ❤️🇵🇸
At a time when many remained silent, he chose to stand with humanity with a sincere word and action.
Greetings from Gaza…
From the heart of pain and siege, thank you to everyone who still sees our humanity and stands with us 🙏 And for those who can help, the support link is below 🤍👇
Hello everyone , My name is Diyaa , I am 28 years old, and I live in Gaza—or at least, I used to. I am the sole provider for my family of 9
Summary: Y/N is Alexias sister. Shes 18 years old and dates Kika. They try to keep it a secret but Alexia finds out.
Pls send some requests🤗
The first sign something was wrong happened at breakfast. Not dramatic wrong.Not someone’s injured wrong. Just…Quiet. Too quiet. Y/N walked into the kitchen rubbing sleep from her eyes, oversized Barça hoodie slipping off one shoulder as she reached automatically for the coffee machine. Usually mornings with Alexia Putellas involved at least one of the following:
Alexia lecturing her about nutritionAlexia reminding her to stretch properly
Alexia stealing her toast
Alexia asking approximately seventeen questions before 8 a.m.
Today? Nothing. Alexia sat at the counter scrolling through her phone silently. That alone was terrifying.
Y/N slowed immediately.
“…Good morning?” “Morning.”
Still not looking up. Okay. Definitely terrifying.
Y/N carefully grabbed a mug.
“You okay?” “Mhm.”
One-word answers. Even worse. Y/N glanced toward the living room like someone might explain what was happening. Unfortunately, there was nobody else there to save her. She turned back slowly.
“Did I do something?”
Finally, Alexia looked up. And smiled. That was somehow the scariest part.
“No,” Alexia said calmly. “Why would you think that?”
Oh, this was bad. This was really bad. Y/N forced herself to act normal as she poured coffee.
“Because you’re being weird.”
“I’m being weird?”
“Yes.”
Alexia hummed thoughtfully.
“Interesting.”
Y/N’s stomach dropped. That tone meant Alexia knew something. Maybe not everything. But something. Before Y/N could figure out how much danger she was actually in, her phone buzzed against the counter.
One message. From Kika Nazareth.
miss u already :(
Y/N nearly launched the phone across the kitchen. Alexia’s eyes flicked downward instantly. Y/N grabbed the phone face down so fast it looked suspicious anyway.
Alexia leaned back slightly in her chair.
“…Who’s texting you this early?”
“No one.”
“No one texted you?”
“I mean—someone texted me—but like… not importantly.”
Alexia stared. Y/N wanted to evaporate. Thankfully, the older woman’s phone rang before she could interrogate further. Alexia answered while standing from the counter.
“Hola?”
Y/N exhaled in relief. Barely survived. Barely. Then Alexia walked toward the hallway, still talking on the phone.
“Yeah, I’m leaving soon… she’s here with me now…”
Pause. Alexia looked directly at Y/N.
“…No, I haven’t asked yet.”
Asked what? Y/N narrowed her eyes suspiciously. The second Alexia disappeared into the hallway, Y/N grabbed her phone again.
YOU TEXTED ME AT BREAKFAST
Kika replied instantly.
and?
ALEXIA WAS THERE
Three dots appeared. Then:
oops
Y/N stared at the message in betrayal.
YOU’RE ENJOYING THIS
a little
Insane. Actually insane.
______________________________________________
Training should’ve distracted her. It didn’t. Because Alexia kept watching her. Not obviously. That was the problem. Alexia Putellas was subtle when she investigated things.
During rondos, she watched who Y/N laughed with. During tactical drills, she watched who Y/N instinctively looked for on the pitch. And unfortunately for Y/N’s mental stability…that person was always Kika.
“Y/N,” Patri Guijarro whispered while they stretched near the sideline.
“Why does Alexia look like an FBI agent?”
“Because my life is over.”
“That sounds dramatic.”
“She knows something.”Patri winced.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
From across the field, Kika glanced over. Smiled. Y/N glared immediately. Kika only looked more amused. Traitor. Absolute traitor.
Practice ended with a small training match. Coach split the teams unevenly on purpose, which meant Y/N and Kika ended up against each other.
Normally that would’ve been fun. Today it was psychological warfare.
“Scared of me?” Kika teased as they lined up before kickoff.
“You wish.”
“You’ve been glaring at me for twenty minutes.”
“Because you’re ruining my life.”
Kika grinned lazily. “Still cute.”
Y/N shoved her shoulder. Unfortunately, Alexia saw that too. Of course she did. Because apparently the universe hated Y/N personally.
_____________________________________________
The scrimmage started fast. Y/N played aggressively out of pure stress, pressing harder than usual, moving quicker, trying desperately not to think about the fact her sister’s detective instincts were activating in real time.
Then came the mistake. A terrible mistake. The kind of mistake that changes lives.
Y/N scored.
That wasn’t the mistake. The mistake was celebrating. Without thinking, she turned immediately toward Kika after the goal.
And Kika—idiot, beautiful idiot that she was—blew her a kiss. The entire field froze. Just for a second. But one second was enough.
“Oh my god,” Vicky López whispered.
Clàudia Pina physically covered her face with both hands. Patri looked like she wanted to disappear underground.
And Alexia? Alexia stared at Kika. Then at Y/N. Then back at Kika. The silence felt deadly. Kika’s smile vanished instantly.
“…Ah,” Irene Paredes muttered quietly from defense.
“That’s not ideal.”
Not ideal? NOT IDEAL? Y/N wanted the earth to open beneath her. Coach blew the whistle to continue. Nobody moved. Alexia finally spoke.
“Y/N M/N”
Oh no. Not the middle-name. Everyone on Barça knew the full-name voice. Y/N swallowed hard. “Yeah?”
Alexia’s expression was unreadable.
“Focus.”
That was it. No yelling. No anger. Which somehow felt worse. Much worse. The rest of training became torture. Alexia barely spoke. Kika stopped flirting entirely. The team moved around them carefully like they were trying not to trigger an explosion.
By the end of practice, Y/N felt physically sick. She grabbed her bag quickly, hoping maybe—just maybe—she could escape before the conversation happened. Delusional.
“Car. Now.” Alexia’s voice behind her was calm.
Too calm.
Y/N closed her eyes briefly. Dead. She was dead.—The drive home was silent.
Horribly silent.
Alexia kept both hands on the wheel, jaw tight, eyes fixed ahead. Y/N sat frozen in the passenger seat trying not to throw up from anxiety. Streetlights blurred past outside.
Finally, Alexia spoke.
“How long?”
Straight to it. Y/N stared at her lap.
“…What?”
“Don’t do that.”
The disappointment in Alexia’s voice hurt more than anger would’ve.
Y/N swallowed hard.“…A few months.”
Alexia laughed once. Not happily.
“A few months.”
“I was gonna tell you.”
“When?”
Y/N had no answer. Because honestly? There had never been a good time. Alexia tightened her grip on the steering wheel.
“She’s twenty-three”
“I know.”
“You’re eighteen.”
“I know.”
“She’s your teammate.”
“I KNOW.”
The words burst out louder than intended. Silence filled the car again immediately afterward. Y/N looked away first. Alexia exhaled sharply through her nose.
“You lied to me.”
That one landed hardest. Because it was true. Y/N’s voice came out smaller this time.
“I didn’t mean to.”
“But you did.”
Tears burned suddenly behind Y/N’s eyes, which was annoying because she absolutely did not want to cry right now.
“I didn’t know how to tell you.”
Alexia finally glanced at her.
“And that didn’t make you think maybe you shouldn’t be doing it?”
Y/N’s chest tightened. “It’s not bad.”
Alexia scoffed quietly. “You’re a teenager.”
“I’m an adult.”
“Barely.”
The frustration snapped instantly.
“Why are you acting like she manipulated me or something?”
Alexia didn’t answer immediately. Which was answer enough. Y/N stared at her in disbelief.
“You seriously think that?”
“I think she’s older than you.”
“She loves me.” The words slipped out before Y/N could stop them.
The second they did, silence crushed the car again. Alexia looked genuinely stunned now. Not angry. Not suspicious. Just… surprised. Y/N realized with horror she’d never actually said those words out loud before. Not even to Kika. Alexia pulled into the driveway slowly. The engine shut off. Neither moved.
Finally Alexia spoke quietly.“Do you love her?”
Y/N looked down at her shaking hands.
“…Yeah.”
The honesty in that answer hurt. Because it was real. Completely real. Alexia leaned back in her seat, staring through the windshield. For a long moment, she said nothing.
Then finally: “She should’ve come to me.”
Y/N blinked. “What?”
“If this was serious, she should’ve talked to me.”
“That’s your issue?”
“She’s older. She knows better.”
Y/N shook her head immediately. “No. I’m the one who wanted to keep it secret.”
Alexia looked unconvinced. “Alexia.”
“She’s twenty-four.”
“And you dated older players too!”
Alexia opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
“That’s different.”
“It literally isn’t.”
“It is when it’s my little sister.”
There it was. The real problem. Not Kika. Not football. Not the team. Y/N was Alexia’s little sister. The kid she’d spent years protecting. The kid she still saw as too young for heartbreak.
Y/N’s voice softened slightly. “You can’t decide who I love.”
Alexia looked exhausted suddenly.
“I know.”
That caught Y/N off guard. Alexia rubbed a hand over her face.
“I just…” She sighed quietly.
“I worry about you.”
“I know.”
“She’s important to the team. You’re important to the team. If this goes badly—”
“It won’t.”
Alexia gave her a look. Y/N corrected herself weakly.
“…Hopefully.”
That earned the tiniest huff of laughter from Alexia. Tiny. But there. The tension eased slightly. Just slightly. Then Y/N’s phone buzzed again. Both sisters looked down simultaneously.
Kika.
Of course. Alexia held out her hand immediately.
“Give me the phone.”
“What? No!”
“Give me the phone.”
“You’re terrifying.”
“Y/N.”
Groaning dramatically, Y/N handed it over.
Alexia read the message silently. Then blinked once.Y/N narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
“What does it say?”
Alexia looked almost offended.
“She sent a heart and asked if you’re alive.”
“…Okay and?”
“She used thirteen question marks.”
Y/N snatched the phone back instantly.
ARE YOU ALIVE?????????????
Y/N couldn’t stop herself from smiling a little. Alexia noticed immediately.
“Oh my god,” she muttered. “You’re gone.”
Y/N tried to hide the smile. “Shut up.”
“You’re completely in love with her.”
That sentence made everything feel suddenly real. Bigger somehow. Scarier too. Y/N looked down at her phone quietly.
“…Yeah.”
Alexia studied her for a long moment. Then finally sighed.
“I still think the age gap is weird.”
Y/N groaned. “Alexia—”
“But…” She paused. “I’ve never seen you look at anyone the way you look at her.”
Y/N blinked. That was… unexpectedly nice.
Alexia pointed a finger immediately. “I’m still mad.”
“There it is.”
“And if she hurts you, I bury the body.”
“VERY normal response.”
“Irene said she’d help me.”
Y/N burst out laughing despite herself. That finally cracked Alexia too. Small at first. Then real laughter. The kind they hadn’t shared all day. Relief flooded through Y/N so hard she nearly cried again.
“You’re seriously okay?” she asked softly.
Alexia leaned her head back against the seat.
“…I’m trying to be.”
That was enough. More than enough. Y/N threw her arms around her instantly. Alexia groaned dramatically.
“You’re sweating from training.”
“You love me.”
“Unfortunately.”
Y/N laughed against her shoulder. After a second, Alexia hugged her back tightly.
Then muttered quietly: “You should probably text your girlfriend before she breaks into the house.”
Y/N pulled back immediately. “You called her my girlfriend.”
“I regret it already.”
But she was smiling. And for the first time all day, Y/N could finally breathe again.
5.3 WC | Fluff, slightly suggestive | GIF not mine
Summary: Alexia and Y/N have a secret, a fitness challenge might just be the thing to catch them out
If there was one thing the FC Barcelona Femení squad loved almost as much as football, it was competition.
"Alright, chicas," Jonatan, the assistant coach, clapped his hands. "Today’s session is about fitness monitoring. New program."
The squad collectively groaned.
Jonatan grinned, holding up his own wrist. "Apple Watches, Oura Rings, whatever you’re wearing; we’ve synced them all into the Barça Fit app. We’ll be tracking movement, calories, sleep, steps. Weekly rankings."
"Weekly rankings?" Patri repeated, deadpan. "Like we’re Pokémon Go characters?"
"It’ll be fun," Mapi smirked, already fiddling with her Apple Watch. "Finally, proof that I’m fitter than Ingrid."
Ingrid rolled her eyes. "Delusional."
Y/N chuckled, sliding her own watch on. She’d bought it mostly for running, but now it seemed it was going to betray her in ways she hadn’t considered. She cast a quick glance at Alexia, who was smirking knowingly, like she’d already predicted how this was going to go.
“Just don’t check the leaderboard too obsessively,” Jonatan warned. “It’s for motivation, not obsession.”
Which, in retrospect, was the beginning of the end.
“Welcome to the Hunger Games,” Patri announced dramatically as she scrolled through her wrist. “Except no one dies. Well, unless Alexia kills us during fitness drills.”
“Don’t tempt me,” Alexia muttered, stretching casually, though her lips twitched like she was holding back a smile.
You were perched on the bench nearby, tying your shoelaces tighter than necessary to keep from laughing. Being around this team was like being thrown into the middle of a sitcom, but you were used to it by now. What they didn’t know, yet, was that you were also Alexia’s girlfriend.
And that was something neither of you had shared with the team.
Not because you were hiding out of shame, far from it, but because you both agreed it was kind of nice having something just yours. Barcelona Femení was a family, but they were also terrible gossips. If one person knew, the whole team would know, and by dinner the entire city of Barcelona might as well.
So, for now, you stayed under the radar.
“Alright, everyone synced?” Mapi clapped her hands together like an evil mastermind. “Ready for a challenge? The rules are simple. Every activity is logged. Whoever has the highest numbers by the end of the month wins. Losers…” her eyes swept over the group with mock menace, “…buy the winners dinner.”
“Plural?” Ingrid raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, plural.” Mapi smirked. “Me and whoever else is worthy of standing next to me at the top.”
“Delusional,” Aitana muttered.
“Competitive,” Mapi shot back.
You leaned against the bench, trying not to smirk too much as you looked at Alexia. She wasn’t saying anything, just scrolling lazily through the app like she wasn’t taking it seriously. But you knew better. If there was one thing your girlfriend hated, it was losing. She’d never admit it, but she was one of the most competitive people you’d ever met.
The first week was chaos.
Aitana got spotted doing yoga in the locker room between drills. Even Irene, who swore she “didn’t care about dumb leaderboards,” started doing pushups in the hall before meetings.
“Patri’s been running laps around her kitchen at midnight,” Mapi announced one day, reading the rankings. “You can’t be that desperate.”
“I wasn’t running laps,” Patri protested. “I was… making tea.”
“Fifty floors of tea?” Mariona snorted.
Everyone laughed, the usual chaos of the locker room. Y/N pretended to check her bag, hiding a smile. She and Alexia had been careful, workouts only logged during normal hours, nothing suspicious.
But then came Wednesday night.
It was 2:43 a.m. Y/N lay flat on Alexia’s bed, chest heaving, sweat sticking to her skin.
“That was…” she panted, “…not yoga.”
Alexia, sprawled next to her, smirked. “It burned calories.”
“Alexia.” Y/N turned her head, glaring weakly. “You know our watches log this stuff.”
“Mm.” Alexia stretched an arm above her head, unbothered. “Let them think I’m committed to midnight Pilates.”
“They’re going to think something,” Y/N muttered, covering her face with her hands.
Alexia only chuckled, rolling over and pressing a kiss to Y/N’s shoulder. “Relax, cariño. They’ll never piece it together.”
Except the next morning, Patri’s voice rang through the training pitch.
“WHO THE HELL IS WORKING OUT AT 2:40 IN THE MORNING?!”
Y/N nearly tripped over the cone she was dribbling around.
The entire squad crowded around their synced app, gasping, laughing, speculating. Two names flashed in the “Completed Workouts” section: Alexia Putellas and Y/N L/N. Both logged exactly 47 minutes. Both at 2 something in the morning.
Mariona’s eyes were wide. “That’s… creepy.”
Ingrid raised an eyebrow. “Coincidence?”
“Coincidence my ass,” Mapi said, smirking. “Who does HIIT at 2:40 a.m.?”
Alexia jogged over, calm as ever. “What’s going on?” she asked, feigning innocence.
“Your watch thinks you’re an insomniac,” Patri accused, waving her phone.
Alexia peered at the screen, lips twitching. “Ah. Yeah, sometimes I can’t sleep. I like to…move.”
Y/N nearly choked on her water. Move. That was one way to put it.
“You too, Y/N?” Mariona teased, glancing at her. “Starting rookie hazing early with 3 a.m. cardio?”
Heat crawled up Y/N’s neck. “I- uh..I couldn’t sleep either.”
Alexia, the devil herself, simply patted Y/N’s back like a supportive captain. “Good habits, eh?”
The squad laughed it off, eventually distracted by training. But Y/N knew it wouldn’t be the last time. Not with Alexia’s cocky grin lingering like a secret weapon.
Sure enough, it happened again.
Friday night. 1:58 a.m. Alexia had pulled Y/N into her home gym after a movie night. "Just ten minutes," she’d promised. Ten minutes turned into thirty of… well, not exactly gym exercises. Y/N had begged her to turn off the watch. Alexia just raised a brow and whispered against her ear, “Where’s the fun in that?”
Saturday morning, locker room chaos.
“Okay no, this is too weird,” Patri said, holding up her phone again. “You two did another workout together at the exact same time? Middle of the night?”
“Do you have like a secret pact?” Mapi asked, grinning. “The Midnight Fitness Club?”
“Maybe they’re vampires,” Mariona suggested.
Y/N sputtered, “It’s… It’s just a coincidence!”
“Twice?” Patri deadpanned.
Alexia smirked, cool as ice. “Some people value discipline.”
Y/N wanted the ground to swallow her whole.
By the third time it happened, there was no saving face.
Monday. 3:12 a.m. 62 minutes logged.
“Okay,” Mapi slammed her hand on the table during breakfast. “Confess. What’s going on between you two?”
The entire squad stared at Y/N and Alexia.
Y/N’s heart pounded so loud she swore it echoed in the cafeteria. Her fork trembled in her hand. Alexia, on the other hand, leaned back casually in her chair, sipping her coffee like she was immune to mortal panic.
“Going on?” she repeated smoothly.
“Yes!” Patri said. “Three nights this week. At ungodly hours. Both of you. For the exact same amount of time. Nobody’s that coordinated without planning it.”
Alexia reached over, calmly plucking a piece of toast from Y/N’s plate, unfazed by the chaos. “You all think too much,” she said with a shrug. But her eyes - oh, her eyes were sparkling with mischief as they flicked to Y/N’s flushed face.
She was enjoying this.
Far too much.
The second week was underway. First thing in the morning, the press room at Ciutat Esportiva was buzzing, as it always did days before a Champions League fixture. Cameras, microphones, questions flying in every direction. Alexia handled it with her usual calm authority, giving clipped but confident answers in that smooth captain’s voice.
Y/N, sitting two seats down, tried to appear equally composed. Except she wasn’t. Because all she could think about was the way Alexia’s hand had brushed against hers under the table, out of view. A feather-light touch, a silent promise.
“Y/N,” one reporter called. “How are you finding your first Champions League campaign with Barça?”
Y/N blinked, forcing a smile. “Um, it’s been incredible. The support from the team makes everything easier.”
Beside her, Alexia gave the tiniest smirk. Y/N sat up straighter, praying no one noticed the warmth creeping up her neck.
The press session ended, players dispersing back toward the training ground. The squad was chattering, joking, debating who gave the most boring answer (Patri, unanimously).
But as soon as the hallway cleared, Alexia caught Y/N’s wrist.
“Five minutes,” she whispered.
Y/N blinked. “Now?”
Alexia’s grin was sinful. “Now.”
The gym was empty. Everyone else had either gone to shower or other media. Alexia closed the door behind them, tugging Y/N into the corner where the mats were laid out.
“This is reckless,” Y/N hissed, though she was already letting herself be pulled down onto the mat.
Alexia leaned in, brushing a stray hair from her face. “This is cardio.”
“You’re impossible.”
“You love it.”
Twenty-five minutes later, both of their watches buzzed. Workout complete.
Y/N groaned, flopping back onto the mat. “We’re doomed.”
Alexia only laughed, stealing a quick kiss before tugging her up. “Relax, cariño. Nobody checks it immediately.”
She was wrong.
By lunch, the notifications had been spotted.
“WHAT?!” Patri’s voice rang through the cafeteria. “Again?!”
The table erupted in chaos. Phones were whipped out. Screens shoved in faces.
“11:47 a.m.,” Mariona read dramatically, like a courtroom prosecutor. “Right after media. Guess who logged a 25-minute workout together?”
All eyes turned.
Alexia chewed her chicken calmly. Y/N nearly choked on hers.
“Oh come on,” Mapi said, grinning ear to ear. “You guys aren’t even trying to hide it now.”
“Maybe they’ve got a secret training pact,” Ingrid offered, though her smirk betrayed that she didn’t believe it.
“Yeah,” Patri deadpanned. “The Pact of Suspiciously Synced Heart Rates.”
Y/N dropped her fork. “We just… like to… stay active!”
Laughter roared around the table. Even Ona, usually quiet, chuckled into her salad.
Alexia sipped her water, completely unfazed. “Discipline,” she said again, shrugging like it was the simplest answer in the world.
Y/N wanted to scream.
From then on, it became a running joke. Every random moment, the squad checked their app.
After recovery yoga: both Alexia and Y/N logged an “extra” 15 minutes. After team dinner: another 40 minutes mysteriously appeared at 10:55 p.m.
Even after media days, when the entire squad was together; somehow, someway, those two always logged matching sessions within minutes of each other.
“They’re sneaking off,” Mariona announced one day, loud enough for half the locker room to hear.
“They’re definitely sneaking off,” Mapi agreed. “I swear I saw them disappear after physio yesterday.”
“You’re imagining things,” Y/N squeaked, tugging on her boots.
Mapi leaned in, mischievous. “Am I?”
Y/N’s ears burned.
By the third week of suspiciously synced workouts, the Barcelona locker room had shifted from amused curiosity to full-on investigation mode.
“This isn’t normal,” Patri declared one morning, scrolling through the app like it was evidence in a courtroom trial. “Nobody works out this much together unless there’s a secret.”
“Or unless they’re dating,” Mapi added, smirking.
Y/N fumbled with her laces so hard she almost tied her boots together.
Alexia, lounging nearby, looked entirely unbothered. “Or maybe we’re just competitive,” she said smoothly.
“Competitive?” Mariona repeated. “At two in the morning?”
Alexia’s shrug was the picture of captainly calm. “Discipline.”
The squad groaned in unison.
That afternoon, a new plan was hatched.
“Operation Caught-in-the-Act,” Mapi announced proudly in the physio room. “We’re going to prove it once and for all.”
“How?” Ingrid asked, though the twitch of her mouth suggested she already knew she was going to regret asking.
“Stakeout,” Mapi said, like it was obvious.
Mariona grinned. “Like detectives.”
“Exactly.”
Patri crossed her arms. “This is ridiculous.”
“…but brilliant,” Mariona added.
Patri sighed. “Fine. I’m in.”
The first attempt came after training.
Y/N and Alexia had barely slipped out of the locker room, heading toward the side hallway, when whispers echoed behind them.
“Follow them!” Mapi hissed.
Y/N glanced over her shoulder, heart skipping. She could’ve sworn she saw Mariona’s head pop out from behind a vending machine.
Alexia, unfazed, leaned down and murmured, “Don’t look back.”
“I think they’re actually following us,” Y/N whispered.
“They’ll lose interest.”
Spoiler: they didn’t.
The “stakeout squad” trailed them down the hall, ducking behind corners with the subtlety of toddlers playing hide-and-seek.
At one point, Ingrid had to physically pull Mapi back because she was giggling too loudly.
But when Y/N and Alexia slipped into the gym and closed the door, the squad rushed to peek inside, only to find the pair genuinely lifting weights.
“Damn it,” Mapi muttered.
“Told you,” Patri said smugly.
Except twenty minutes later, both watches buzzed, logging an “extra activity” session that didn’t match what they had witnessed.
Mapi stared at her phone in disbelief. “How?!”
“Maybe they’re… multitasking?” Mariona offered.
The group dissolved into wheezing laughter.
The second attempt came after a media day.
Knowing their habit of vanishing after press duties, the squad decided to set a trap.
“We’ll all stay together,” Patri insisted, gathering the team in the tunnel. “No one leaves until we’re dismissed. That way, no sneaking off.”
Y/N’s stomach sank. Alexia, of course, looked like she’d just been handed a puzzle to solve.
Sure enough, ten minutes later, Alexia leaned down, whispering low into Y/N’s ear, “Meet me by the physio room. Two minutes.”
“What? They’re literally watching us!”
“That’s the fun part.”
And somehow, impossibly, Alexia pulled it off. A casual excuse to grab water. A wave at a staff member down the hall. A quick detour.
By the time Y/N nervously slipped away, the squad was still huddled, distracted by Mapi trying to convince Patri to start a TikTok series called Fitness Gate.
Twenty-five minutes later: ding. Both watches buzzed.
Mapi’s jaw dropped. “No. Freaking. Way.”
“They’re magicians,” Mariona whispered, staring at her screen. “Or spies.”
It became a game, the squad versus the secret couple.
During a recovery pool session, Patri and Mariona stationed themselves at opposite exits to “block escape routes.” Somehow, Alexia and Y/N still vanished, logging a suspicious 30 minutes.
At team dinner, Mapi hid behind a menu, watching their every move. The next morning, their watches revealed a perfectly matched midnight “yoga” session anyway.
Even when Ona, usually the quiet observer, joined in, she could only shake her head. “They’re professionals. You won’t catch them like this.”
Mapi gasped. “So you admit there’s something to catch!”
Ona smirked but said nothing.
Y/N, meanwhile, was living in a constant state of near-heart-attack.
“They’re literally hunting us,” she whispered one evening at Alexia’s apartment, clutching a cushion to her chest.
Alexia stretched out on the sofa, scrolling through Netflix like nothing was wrong. “They’re not hunting. They’re playing.”
“They’re scheming! They’re going to corner us one day!”
Alexia finally looked up, grin tugging at her lips. “Then we’ll tell them.”
Y/N squeaked. “You’re not even a little nervous?”
“No.” Alexia reached over, tugging her onto her lap. “You’re mine, and sooner or later they’ll know. Until then…” She brushed her lips against Y/N’s ear. “…I like watching you squirm.”
The next morning, when both of their watches logged a suspicious 3 a.m. “core workout,” the squad went feral in the group chat.
Mapi: THEY DID IT AGAIN.
Patri: At 3 a.m.??? Do they ever sleep?
Mariona: This is insane. I’m making a conspiracy board.
Ingrid: Please don’t.
Mariona: Too late.
One thing was clear: the squad wasn’t giving up.
And Y/N knew it was only a matter of time before one of their schemes actually worked.
It started with Mariona showing up to training with a roll of tape and a stack of printed screenshots.
“Everybody to the meeting room!” she announced dramatically, waving the papers in the air. “It’s time.”
Patri groaned. “Oh no.”
Mapi’s grin spread like wildfire. “YES. The Board.”
Within minutes, the squad had crowded into the unused video-analysis room. The projector was off, the tactical diagrams ignored. Instead, Mariona slapped the first paper onto the whiteboard: a screenshot of the Barça Fit app showing Alexia Putellas and Y/N L/N logging a 52-minute workout at 2:11 a.m.
“Exhibit A,” Mariona declared.
Patri dragged a hand over her face. “This is ridiculous.”
“This is SCIENCE,” Mariona corrected, already taping up more screenshots. “Exhibit B. Exhibit C. Exhibit D. Notice the pattern?”
The board filled up fast: timestamps, matching workout durations, photos of Alexia and Y/N caught sneaking into hallways. Mariona even drew connecting lines with red marker, circling everything like she was solving a true crime case.
Ingrid sat with her arms crossed, watching the chaos. “You all realise you’re insane, right?”
“Insanely observant,” Mapi corrected, grabbing a marker and scribbling Possible Scenarios at the top of the board.
“Okay,” Mariona said, stepping back like a proud professor. “Hypothesis one: they are actually vampires. Nocturnal activity, unexplained energy at training, suspiciously glowing skin-”
“Vampires?” Patri interrupted.
“Don’t dismiss it,” Mariona warned.
“Hypothesis two,” Mapi said, taking over. “Secret training cult. They’ve created their own midnight fitness regime, probably involving sacrifices…”
“Oh my god,” Patri muttered, sinking into her chair.
“Hypothesis three,” Mariona announced with a flourish, “and the most likely: they’re sneaking off for… activities.”
The squad erupted into howls of laughter.
Meanwhile, down the hall, Y/N was tying her boots when she heard the commotion.
“What are they even doing in there?” she asked, side-eyeing the muffled shouts.
Alexia smirked knowingly, adjusting her shin guards. “Scheming.”
“Scheming?”
“Mm.” She leaned closer, lowering her voice. “They’re obsessed with us, cariño. Can’t stop thinking about what we’re doing.”
Y/N felt her face go hot. “Alexia!”
But Alexia was already strolling toward the pitch, shoulders relaxed, that cocky grin in place.
Back in the meeting room, Patri tried to salvage some sanity.
“Look, you don’t need conspiracy theories. The answer is obvious.”
“Exactly!” Mapi shouted. “They’re hooking up!”
Patri blinked. “…I was going to say they just train together. But sure, let’s go with your theory.”
Ona, who had been quiet as always, finally spoke up. “If they’re hiding something, they won’t slip up in normal situations.”
The room went quiet. Everyone turned to her.
“They’re too careful,” Ona continued, calmly flipping through her phone. “If you really want to catch them, you need to create a scenario where they think they’re safe.”
Mapi gasped, eyes wide. “Like a trap.”
“Yes,” Ona said simply.
Mariona slapped the board. “Operation Honeypot!”
“That’s not what honeypot means,” Ingrid muttered.
But Mapi was already scribbling “TRAP” in huge letters across the board.
The next day, the trap was set.
Jonatan had finished tactical drills early, so the players were gathered in the meeting room. Mariona raised her hand. “Coach, could you excuse us for a second? We just… need to discuss something privately.”
Jonatan raised an eyebrow but left, muttering about dramatic footballers.
The moment the door closed, Patri announced loudly, “Okay, emergency toilet break. Everyone out!”
The squad “casually” filed out, except for the stakeout team, who crouched outside the door like kids at a sleepover.
Inside, Alexia leaned back in her chair, smirking. “You hear that?”
Y/N blinked. “Hear what?”
“They’re setting a trap.”
“What?!” Y/N squeaked, whipping her head toward the door. “Are you serious?”
“Mm.” Alexia stood, tugging her wrist. “Come on. Let’s give them what they want.”
“What do you mean?!”
But Alexia just winked.
Outside, the squad held their breath as the door creaked open. Footsteps echoed down the hall. Then silence.
Mapi whispered, “They took the bait.”
Mariona nearly squealed. “This is it!”
The group crept after them, peeking around corners like cartoon detectives. Finally, they reached the physio corridor, where they found Alexia and Y/N…
…sitting calmly on the bench, scrolling their phones.
“Caught you!” Mapi shouted, bursting out from behind the corner.
Alexia looked up, unimpressed. “Caught us… waiting for physio?”
Y/N blinked, wide-eyed, clutching her phone like it was a lifeline.
Mapi froze. “Wait. But you…we…”
Behind her, Patri groaned. “This is pathetic.”
Ona smirked knowingly.
Later that night, when both watches buzzed with a 1 a.m. “HIIT workout,” the squad group chat exploded.
Mapi: THEY OUTSMARTED US.
Mariona: They KNEW about the trap.
Patri: Maybe because you shouted “Operation Honeypot” in the locker room yesterday.
Ingrid: Clowns. All of you.
Ona: Told you.
Y/N lay tangled in Alexia’s sheets, face buried in her chest. “They’re never going to stop.”
Alexia kissed her hair, chuckling. “Good. I like the entertainment.”
“You’re evil.”
“Evil,” Alexia echoed, grinning. “And still undefeated.”
By now, the team had reached what could only be described as obsession. The “mystery of the midnight workouts” had become a daily fixture of conversation, escalating from casual teasing to full-blown detective work.
“They’re laughing at us,” Mapi muttered one morning, scrolling through her phone like it had personally betrayed her. “Mocking us with their little synced sessions.”
“They’re mocking you,” Ingrid said dryly, tying her boots.
“No, they’re mocking all of us!” Mapi insisted. “Every suspicious workout is a declaration of war.”
First came the GPS trackers; Mapi sneakily slipped an AirTag into Alexia’s gym bag, proudly announcing, “Checkmate.” Except the next morning, the tracker pinged from a perfectly boring location: Alexia’s living room.
“Maybe they really are just doing late-night workouts,” Ingrid suggested.
Then came the hidden cameras; Mariona convinced the kit man to let her “test” a new GoPro setup in the gym. But when they reviewed the footage, all they saw was Alexia calmly riding a stationary bike for twenty minutes, before winking directly at the camera and walking out.
Mariona clutched her head. “She knows. She knows everything.”
Ona, as always, smirked. “Told you.”
Y/N, meanwhile, was living in permanent panic.
“They’re going to catch us,” she hissed one evening in Alexia’s apartment, pacing the floor like it was a crime scene. “Mapi has gone full FBI. Mariona has a board. Patri’s probably running background checks.”
Alexia lounged on the couch, scrolling through her phone like she hadn’t a care in the world. “Let them try.”
“You don’t understand…”
Alexia reached out, snagging Y/N’s wrist, pulling her onto her lap. Her grin was maddeningly smug. “Scared the team will find out just how much stamina their captain has?”
Y/N nearly fell off her lap. “ALEXIA!”
“What?” Alexia teased, brushing a kiss against her neck. “It’s just fitness, no?”
Y/N covered her face with both hands. “You’re insufferable.”
“And you love it.”
The problem, of course, was that Alexia’s cockiness wasn’t unwarranted.
Because that night, for reasons Y/N couldn’t even comprehend, their “session” stretched past an hour. And when their watches buzzed: Longest workout yet: 92 minutes. Y/N nearly cried.
The next morning, the squad erupted.
“NINETY. TWO. MINUTES.” Mapi screamed, slamming her phone onto the breakfast table like it was proof of alien life.
The entire team gathered around, jaws dropping.
“Ninety-two minutes of cardio at three a.m.,” Patri said flatly. “That’s not normal. That’s… borderline superhuman.”
Mariona whistled low. “Stamina.”
Ingrid’s eyebrow shot up. “Impressive.”
Y/N, sitting two seats down, choked so hard on her orange juice that Vicky had to thump her on the back.
Alexia, across the table, just smirked over her coffee. “Discipline,” she said again smoothly, like it explained everything.
Mapi slammed her hands on the table. “NO. This isn’t discipline. This is… this is…” She gestured wildly. “…something ELSE.”
The squad howled with laughter, voices echoing around the cafeteria.
Y/N’s ears burned crimson. Alexia, meanwhile, leaned back in her chair like a cat in the sun, entirely unbothered.
Of course, ninety-two minutes was the spark that lit a new fire under the squad.
“This is it,” Mapi said, pulling out her notebook later that day. “Our white whale. If we can’t catch them after this, we never will.”
Mariona nodded gravely. “We need the ultimate plan.”
Patri muttered, “Or you could just… ask them?”
“No,” Mapi snapped, eyes wild. “We don’t ask. We hunt.”
Ona chuckled under her breath.
Back in Alexia’s apartment, Y/N buried her face in a pillow. “They’re insane. They’re going to put us under surveillance.”
Alexia ran a hand lazily through Y/N’s hair, the smirk still lingering. “Let them. They’ll never win.”
“You’re too cocky.”
“Mm.” Alexia kissed her temple. “Maybe. But admit it, you like watching me win.”
Y/N groaned into the pillow. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
Alexia’s laugh was low, soft, and maddeningly smug. “Ninety-two minutes says otherwise.”
By now, the entire Barcelona women’s squad was in too deep.
What had started as harmless teasing had spiraled into a full-blown mission.
Mapi slammed her notebook down onto the cafeteria table like a manifesto.
“Operation Midnight Raid,” she declared.
Patri groaned. “That sounds illegal.”
“It’s not illegal,” Mapi countered. “It’s genius. We’re staying overnight at Ciutat Esportiva. No one leaves, no one sneaks off, no excuses. We’ll all be together; meaning no midnight workouts.”
“And if they still log a workout,” Mariona added dramatically, “then it proves something unholy is happening.”
Y/N nearly dropped her fork. “Overnight? At the training ground?”
“Yes,” Mapi said, narrowing her eyes at her. “A squad bonding sleepover. Everyone in the same place. No chance of… sneaky cardio.”
Across the table, Alexia calmly buttered her toast. “Sounds fun.”
Y/N gaped at her. Fun?!
That night, the squad transformed one of the media rooms into a makeshift dorm. Air mattresses, blankets, snacks, even a projector for movies. It had the chaotic energy of a school trip, players shrieking with laughter and tossing popcorn across the room.
Y/N sat stiffly on her mattress, glancing nervously at Alexia across the room. Alexia was leaning against the wall, arms folded, watching the chaos with that infuriating smirk.
“They’re watching us like hawks,” Y/N whispered when Alexia finally settled beside her.
“I know,” Alexia murmured back. “It’s adorable.”
“Adorable?!”
Alexia’s grin turned wicked. “Scared they’ll find out how much stamina their captain has?”
Y/N nearly smothered herself with her blanket.
The squad was relentless.
Every bathroom trip was monitored. Every trip to the vending machine was tracked. Mapi even set alarms through the night, insisting on “random checks.”
Around midnight, Patri shook everyone awake just to “make sure no one was missing.”
“Still here,” Alexia muttered, voice hoarse with sleep.
“Still here,” Y/N croaked, cheeks burning.
Mapi squinted at them suspiciously. “We’ll see.”
By 2 a.m., the locker room had finally quieted. Snores echoed, someone’s Spotify playlist hummed faintly from a corner, and the squad’s elaborate trap seemed airtight.
Y/N curled into her blanket, eyes heavy. For once, maybe, just maybe, they’d survive the night without suspicion.
Then she felt Alexia’s hand brush hers under the covers.
Her eyes flew open. “No,” she whispered. “Absolutely not.”
Alexia leaned close, her breath tickling Y/N’s ear. “Relax. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good,” Y/N whispered back firmly. “Because they’ll actually kill us if we-”
Her watch buzzed.
Y/N froze.
“What the hell?!” she whispered, glancing at the screen. Somehow, inexplicably, it had started tracking a workout.
Alexia’s eyes glinted with mischief. “Guess it knows something you don’t.”
“Alexia!” Y/N squeaked, yanking her wrist away. “Turn it off!”
Too late.
By morning, both watches proudly displayed a synced “low-intensity activity” session logged at 2:17 a.m.
Chaos. Absolute chaos.
Mapi screamed so loudly when she saw the notifications that half the staff came running.
“EXPLAIN THIS!” she demanded, waving her phone in Alexia and Y/N’s faces. “We locked you down! You had guards! You had surveillance! HOW?!”
Mariona collapsed onto the floor, wheezing. “They’re… unstoppable.”
Patri rubbed her temples. “This is insane.”
Ona smirked knowingly. “Told you they couldn’t be caught.”
Y/N wanted to dig a hole and crawl into it. “It must’ve been a glitch,” she babbled, waving her hands. “Like… like, maybe the watches picked up on… tossing and turning in our sleep?”
“Oh sure,” Mapi said, dripping sarcasm. “You both tossed and turned for twenty minutes at the exact same time.”
Y/N made a strangled noise.
Alexia, of course, looked cool as ever. “Maybe we’re just in sync,” she said with a lazy shrug.
The squad erupted.
Later that night, safe in Alexia’s apartment, Y/N groaned into the couch cushion.
“We’re so close to getting caught. If they find out what we’re actually doing-”
“They will,” Alexia cut in calmly, tugging her into her lap.
Y/N blinked. “You want them to?”
Alexia smirked, leaning down until their noses brushed. “Eventually.”
“Why do you look so smug about this?”
“Because.” Alexia kissed her cheek, her grin maddening. “Ninety-two minutes wasn’t even our limit.”
Y/N let out a muffled scream into her hands.
The locker room buzzed with restless energy. The squad had tried everything; trackers, cameras, overnight stakeouts, and every time, Alexia and Y/N slipped through their fingers.
“This is it,” Mapi declared, standing on a bench like a revolutionary leader. “One final challenge. Winner takes all.”
“Winner takes what?” Ingrid asked, unimpressed.
“The truth!” Mapi shouted, pumping her fist.
Patri buried her face in her hands. “I can’t believe I play for a team of children.”
The “truth challenge” was announced later that morning: a team-wide competition of endurance circuits, balance drills, and strategy games. Partners were chosen at “random,” though everyone knew Mapi and Mariona had pulled the strings.
“Alexia and Y/N,” Jonatan read.
Y/N’s heart plummeted into her stomach. Of course.
Beside her, Alexia smirked as she fastened the resistance band around their waists. “Shall we?”
“They’re setting us up,” Y/N hissed.
“Let them,” Alexia murmured, leaning down to her ear. “We’ll win.”
The day was chaos from start to finish.
First was the endurance gauntlet. With the band tethering them, Y/N struggled to match Alexia’s pace, but her captain never slowed, guiding her with steady hands and smug encouragement.
“Keep up, princesa,” Alexia teased, barely breaking a sweat.
Second was the balance beam relay. Every wobble Y/N made, Alexia’s hand steadied her waist, whispering, “I’ve got you.” The squad hooted from the sidelines, Patri shouting, “This is basically a public date!”
By the time they hit the obstacle course finale, Y/N was exhausted, but Alexia was still running like she’d just started.
Hours later, when the dust settled and the scores were tallied for the first month of the fitness challenge, the inevitable happened.
“And the winners,” Jonatan announced, reading from his clipboard, “by a landslide… Alexia and Y/N.”
The squad erupted. Mapi shrieked, Mariona clutched her head in mock agony, Patri groaned like she’d lost all faith in humanity.
“Unstoppable,” Ingrid muttered.
Y/N, cheeks burning, shuffled awkwardly toward the front. Alexia, on the other hand, strode confidently, arm sliding casually around Y/N’s waist.
Jonatan handed them the prize, a ridiculous golden foam trophy someone had dug out of storage. The squad wolf-whistled, phones out, recording every second.
Alexia raised the trophy high, grin wide. “Gracias.” Then, with a casualness that sent the room into chaos, she added:
“And thank you on behalf of my girlfriend, too.”
Silence.
A beat.
Then absolute pandemonium.
“WHAT?!” Mapi shrieked so loud the windows rattled.
“I knew it!” Mariona screamed, pointing at the ceiling like she’d solved a murder case.
Patri dropped her water bottle. “Oh my god.”
Ona just smirked knowingly.
Y/N hid her face in her hands, mortified. “Alexia…” she groaned.
But Alexia only kissed the top of her head, grinning smugly at her teammates. “You all worked so hard to find out. Consider this your prize.”
The squad went ballistic; cheering, teasing, chanting their names like it was a championship win.
Later, when the locker room had calmed and the team was still buzzing about the reveal, Y/N slumped onto the bench, face bright red.
“You’re unbelievable,” she muttered, glaring at Alexia.
Alexia smirked, tugging her close with zero shame. “You’re mine. They were going to find out eventually. Might as well let them know when we’re on top.”
Y/N groaned, but couldn’t stop smiling when Alexia kissed her in front of everyone again, smug as ever.
Because, like always, Alexia had chosen the perfect moment.
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Ever since Lamine Yamal proposed to her, the engagement ring almost never left her hand.
Not because of the price even though the ring was expensive enough to make anyone nervous.
But because of what it meant, Lamine had designed it himself. Every little detail. The shape. The tiny engraved initials hidden inside the band even the specific stone placement.
He spent weeks secretly working on it before the engagement party, refusing help from anyone because he wanted it to feel completely personal. Completely theirs.
‘There’s literally no other ring like this’, he had told her proudly after slipping it onto her finger that night. And he was right. That ring existed once in the entire world.
Which was exactly why panic completely consumed her the second she realized it was gone.
At first she thought maybe she’d simply left it in the bathroom or beside the sink or near the kitchen while cooking. Somewhere obvious.
But after twenty minutes of searching the entire house with growing panic twisting inside her chest, the ring was nowhere. Absolutely nowhere.
And the more time passed, the worse she felt because she already knew how much that ring meant to Lamine too.
He acted nonchalant most of the time relaxed and carefree, but when it came to her? And especially the engagement? He became strangely sentimental.
He had kissed her hand almost every day since putting that ring there. Sometimes just staring at it randomly with that smug little smile on his face.
‘My fiancée’, he’d say proudly whenever he noticed her wearing it.
So losing it? Felt horrible.
—-
By the time she started searching inside her car parked outside the house, she was genuinely close to tears. She had pulled everything apart already. The glove compartment. Her purse. Under the seats. Every tiny corner where the ring could’ve possibly slipped.
But nothing, and the worst part? Lamine would be home from training any minute.
She was halfway bent under the passenger seat searching desperately when suddenly.
“What are you doing?”
She jumped violently. Her head hit the side of the seat slightly as she spun around. And there he was.
Lamine stood beside the open car door still wearing his training clothes, bag hanging from one shoulder, curls messy from practice.
He looked confused. Slightly amused too.
Meanwhile her heart nearly stopped. “Oh…Lamine you’re back.”
Lamine laughed softly. “Why are you acting guilty?”
She immediately stood up too quickly and wrapped her arms around him tightly before he could look too closely at her face. “Hi.”
Lamine blinked once before hugging her back automatically. “…Hi?”
His hands settled comfortably on her waist but after a second he frowned slightly. Because something felt off immediately. Her hug felt tense. Nervous.
And the moment she pulled away, she avoided his eyes completely.
“What are you searching for?”, he asked.
“Nothing.”
Lamine stared at her for a second then glanced toward the completely destroyed interior of the car.
Seats moved forward. Bags emptied. Everything messy.
“Right”, he muttered. “Nothing.”
She laughed nervously and bent back down quickly to continue searching. Which only made him more suspicious.
Lamine slowly set his bag down near the car before stepping closer. “Hey.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re weird.”
“I’m not weird.”
Now he was definitely suspicious especially because she still refused to properly look at him.
Lamine reached down, gripping her jaw gently between his fingers making her look up at him. “What are you looking for?”
The softness in his voice almost made her crack immediately.
“I’ll help you.”
She swallowed hard. “It’s nothing.”
Lamine narrowed his eyes slightly and that’s when he noticed it, her left hand was empty. The ring finger bare.
His expression changed immediately not angry just suddenly serious.
“…Where’s your ring?”
Her stomach dropped quickly she pulled her hand behind her back. “It’s upstairs.”
Lamine stared at her silently then slowly raised an eyebrow. “You’re lying.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
His voice stayed calm which somehow made her even more nervous.
Lamine looked at her carefully for another second before sighing quietly then without another word, he took her hand and gently pulled her toward the house.
“Lamine-“
“Come inside.”
The moment they entered the house, he closed the door behind them and turned toward her fully now. Arms crossed. Expression unreadable.
“Tell me the truth.”
She stared at the floor silently then finally, “I lost it.”
The words came out small. Quiet. Guilty.
Lamine exhaled slowly through his nose and for a second the disappointment on his face genuinely hurt her chest.
Because she knew, she knew how important that ring was.
“I’ve been searching everywhere,” she admitted quickly.
“The house, the car, literally everything-“, Her voice started shaking slightly. “I don’t know where it went.”
Lamine stayed quiet for a moment and rubbed a hand over his face tiredly. “You lost the engagement ring I made for you.”
That sentence alone almost made her cry. “I’m sorry.”
And the second he looked properly at her face at the panic, the guilt and the fear sitting all over her expression, his frustration softened immediately. Because she already felt terrible enough.
Lamine sighed quietly before stepping closer. “Look at me.”
She looked up slowly and without another word, he leaned down and kissed her softly. Long enough to calm her breathing slightly.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested briefly against hers. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not.”
“We’ll find it.”
“But-“
“We’ll find it”, he repeated more firmly.
Then he kissed her forehead once. “Stop panicking.”
The calmness in his voice made her chest ache. Because honestly? He had every right to be upset. But instead he was comforting her first.
—-
The next hour turned into chaos. Both of them searching absolutely everywhere. Under couches. Kitchen drawers. Laundry baskets. The bathroom.
Lamine even checked the trash bags while muttering, “If this thing disappeared forever I’m never emotionally recovering.”
Despite everything, that made her laugh weakly. “You’re dramatic.”
“I handcrafted romance for you. Of course I’m dramatic.”
Eventually they ended up back in their bedroom completely exhausted.
She sat on the floor near the bed looking defeated. “I actually lost it.”
Lamine crouched beside her immediately. “You didn’t.”
“But I did-“
“You’re overthinking, don’t do that”
Then suddenly his eyes narrowed slightly toward the bedside table. “…Wait.”
He leaned forward reaching behind the small cabinet beside the bed and froze. A second later he lifted the ring between his fingers. Silence.
Then she gasped loudly. “Oh my God you found it!”
Lamine stared at the ring dramatically for a second before looking at her. “You nearly killed us emotionally and it was just here?”
She practically threw herself at him immediately, hugging him so tightly he laughed breathlessly. “I thought it was gone forever!”
“You owe me ten years of peace after this.”
She laughed shakily into his shoulder while he slipped the ring carefully back onto her finger himself deliberately. Like the moment mattered all over again.
Then he lifted her hand and kissed the ring softly. His eyes met hers immediately afterward. “Don’t lose it again my love”
“I won’t.”
“I’m serious, I almost shit myself”
She laughed softly at him, “So am I.”
Lamine stared at her for another second before pulling her fully into his lap. Still holding her left hand carefully. Still staring at the ring like he didn’t trust reality yet.
Then quietly he muttered against her hair. “There’s only one of these in the world, and it belongs to you, only you, the love of my love, my fiancée, and my future wife”
Her heart melted instantly because the ring wasn’t what mattered most to him, It was what it represented. Her. Them. Forever.
And honestly? The way Lamine held her a little tighter for the rest of the night made her feel like the luckiest girl alive.
inwhich! you and lamine are getting ready for an event to go to while on vacation and you give him some quick head before you leave.
frannytalks! this is kind of intense, i don’t really have anything to say lol. 😅 please like, reblog, & comment if you’d like to be added to the l. yamal or permanent taglist!
the sun is shining through the sheer curtains of the luxury resort you’re staying at, but you aren't looking at the view. lamine is standing by the mirror, adjusting the collar of his team tracksuit and you can't help yourself.
the way his athletic frame fills out his clothes makes your stomach flip. you sneak up behind him, sliding your hands under his shirt to feel the hard muscles of his stomach, and he lets out a low groan, leaning back into you.
"we really have to leave in like twenty minutes, baby." he murmurs, glancing at you through the mirror with a smirk, though he doesn't pull away from your touch.
you don't say a word. instead, you drop to your knees right there on the cold marble floor. you reach for the waistband of his pants, tugging them down along with his underwear until his thick and already hard cock springs free, pulsing and ready. you look up at him, your eyes wide and hungry, and he lets out a sharp exhale, his hand immediately finding your hair and gripping it firmly.
"you're such a little brat, aren't you?" he chuckles, his voice dropping an octave as he looks down at you.
you lean in, swirling your tongue around the head of his dick, tasting the pre-cum. you look up at him and deliberately spit, letting a thick glob of saliva land right on the tip before you lick it clean. lamine hisses, his fingers tightening in your hair, pulling your head closer to his pelvic area.
"fuck, look at you. you love tasting me, don't you, baby?" he grunts, tilting his hips forward to press his cock against your lips more.
you open wide and slide him deep into your throat, the length of him hitting the back of your throat and making you gag. lamine doesn't slow down, he likes the sound of you struggling. he grips your hair tight and starts pushing himself into you, his hips snapping forward in a rhythmic, aggressive pace. he starts face fucking you, forcing his cock deep into your mouth over and over, choking you until your eyes water and you can barley breathe.
“that's it, take it all. swallow every inch of my cock.” he whispers, his voice strained as he pushes himself deeper, his breath heavy.
you try to pull back for a breath, but he holds you firmly in place, forcing you to stay pinned against him. as he picks up the speed, he reaches down and gives your cheek a light, stinging slap. the sound echoes in the quiet room, and the sudden shock makes you moan around him, your tongue wrapping tighter around his cock.
"did you like that? you like it when i’m mean to you while i’m fucking your face?" he groans, his eyes darkening as he watches you struggle to breathe.
it only grows more intense, the wet sounds of your mouth working on him is filling the space. lamine is losing his composure, his movements becoming frantic. he's not thinking about the event anymore, he's only thinking about how tight your throat feels around him.
"you're doing such a good job for me, but i want you to take every single drop," he groans, his hips locking against your face as he reaches the edge. “can you do that for me?”
he lets out a deep, loud groan, his body tensing up as he erupts, shooting thick ropes of cum deep into your throat. you swallow hard, taking every drop of him, refusing to let any go to waste. you keep sucking until he's completely drained.
as he finally pulls out, leaving a string of saliva and cum connecting him to your lips, his expression softens instantly. the aggression vanishes, replaced by a look of pure affection. he reaches down, cupping your face with a tender hand and pulling you up for a soft, lingering kiss.
"good girl. you did so well for me, baby, i’m is so proud of you," he whispers, kissing your forehead with a smile and stroking your cheek.
