Alexia Jr • Alexia Putellas & Alba Putellas
To answer some of you, my requests are open and I love to get anything, however it might take me a bit to get to it! Feedback is also always appreciated and thank you for the immense amount of support!
Request: Where R is Alexia’s and Alba’s little sister and joins the Barca team. For some reason the whole team only seems to notice the older and the same goes for the international teams and media. R feels in the shadow and doesn’t want to hurt her sister’s feelings so bottle everything up. You can take the storyline wherevee, just in need of your wonderful angst and perfect writing :))))))
The second the final whistle is blown you take off towards the stands with a wide grin as you spot your sister waiting, her arms spread out. Reaching her, Alba pulls you into a tight hug before she lifts your head to pepper your face in kisses.
“I’m so proud of you mi pequeña!” she exclaims happily and you giggle in her hold. Barca had just won the ElClásico 4-0 with yourself scoring a goal too and to say you were ecstatic was an understatement. You knew if they could, your mother and eldest sister, would be celebrating with you too. Unfortunately, with Alexia being out due her ACL the physios room was one she visited more often than she’d like, it’s where she was right now as well, your mother having been the one to drive her to the appointment.
“Vamos, celebrate with your team” Alba playfully shooed you away and as you hopped off the stairs you turned back to her.
“Yes, I’ll be waiting outside. Now go!” she smiles at you and with a quick wave to her you’re off to where your teammates are jumping around. As you push yourself between Patri and Aitana the shorter of the two turns to you with a look of hope.
“Is Alexia coming tomorrow?” The question isn’t one that surprises you despite it being rather sudden, especially in the middle of the team celebrating, but it is how it’s been the past few months.
You grew up in the Barca academy, eager to follow in your sister’s footsteps after she made her debut in the first team at 18. Your style of play and determination reminded those around you of your last name and just before your 19th birthday you were going to finally make it to the senior team. However, life decided you weren’t ready yet and with a sudden injury you were ruled out for 4 months. The invitation to the A team seemed further out of reach than ever before.
It was late May when you were asked again, and this time you jumped at the opportunity of playing alongside the bests. It was a day you and Alexia would never forget. The toothy grin on her face was practically blinding as you were introduced to the team, her eyes glowing with pride as you nervously fiddled with the hem of your new Barca jersey. She had been waiting to play with you since forever, one of her biggest dreams was to have her littlest sister play the sport the two of you loved so much, together.
Though, much like before, things have gotten in the way. This time it was Alexia who got injured on the eve of the Euros and so your hopes of playing club football together had to be postponed.
Later that night when Alba parks the car at your family home, you pull yourself out of the car and close the door behind you as you sling your bag over your shoulder.
“Ay! Don’t slam my car door!” she scolds you and you roll your eyes.
“Hurry up Albs, I’m hungry!” you whine and she chuckles at you as she unlocks the front door.
“Mis hijas!” comes the unmistakable voice of your mother and you give her a quick hug.
“Smells great mami, what did you make?” you wander into the kitchen, following the warmth and the smell of the food.
“Always hungry, huh?” Alexia speaks from behind you, her crutches hitting the tiled floor as she limps into the kitchen. You only shrug at her with a grin as you walk over and lean into her, careful to not put too much of your weight on her and she leans her chin on the top of your head, the crutches not allowing her to give you a proper hug.
“Nothing new there” Alba teases as she walks by, ruffling your hair and you swat at her hand.
“Alba stop bullying your sister!” your mother calls out and you stick your tongue out at the brunette, Alexia laughing at the two of you.
Walking into the training facility you let your training bag slide down your shoulder and drop to your seat with a thump which has Claudia looking up from her place.
“Y/N! Could you ask Alexia if she wants to come to the team dinner after the match with Atlético?” she asks you and a frustrated huff leaves your lips as you pull your shirt over your head.
“Hola to you too Pina. Why don’t you ask her yourself?” you mumble, eyes focused on tying your shoes and missing the look on her face as she wonders why you were in such a mood.
“Just figured it would be easier if you did, as her sister, of course, it’s just quicker-”
“Sure” you grumble as you cut her off and the locker room door closes behind you before she can add more. She stares after you for a second, a frown on her face but she shrugs her shoulders, instead moving to get ready.
As you walk out onto the field you check your phone for any important notifications before you’d silence your phone. With a few clicks however, you end up on the team’s instagram, the post about the match is already out and this time it’s your face on the picture ‘Un dia de partit’.
You make the mistake of opening the comment section, an action you’ve done too many times, now sort of becoming a routine even though you knew it wasn’t healthy.
Can’t wait for Alexia to be back!
It’s a shame the better Putellas can’t play
For a second I thought it was Alexia
You set your jaw as you read over them, much of the comments are similar and you bite at your lip not noticing someone approaching you until they’ve taken the phone out of your hands and pocketed it. You turn your glare on them and Mapi pulls her mouth into a straight line.
“Stop hurting yourself niña” she says softly, gesturing to your lips with a nod of her head and you release it from between your teeth, running your tongue over it to soothe the slight stinging.
“Come on, you’re my training partner for today” she pulls at your arm and you follow her with another huff, but she ignores it as she passes you a ball, knowing it was the only way to get your mind off the other nasty comments you’ve received. She’s seen them, but she never brought it up. If the sight of the cruel words hurt her, she couldn’t imagine what you were feeling.
You’re more than grateful to have someone like Mapi looking out for you, her being one of the only people to appreciate you for who you are and not because of who your sister is. She has known you since you were 12, she watched you grow into the woman you are today and she was thrilled to have you on the team. She’d make sure other’s opinions and words wouldn’t get to you, not when you were playing the way you were, not when you were the little sister she’s never had.
Instagram isn’t the only media platform that had their negative thoughts on you, or lack of thoughts as they were more focused on your sister. You understood their admiration towards Alexia because she was your role model too. But another part of you was jealous, how could they still only be talking about her when she hadn’t been playing since July? Though you feel guilty everytime you think about it, you can’t deny that the lack of interest in you from not only the media and the federation, but also your own teammates hurt you deeply.
To the world however, to Spain, you were a replacement. One Putellas out, the other one in. You went from being a super sub with 20-30 minutes of game time to having your name in the starting XI. You were one of the best assets on the team, having heavily contributed to Spain’s success in the Euro’s until your country was knocked out. But all everyone saw was ‘Putellas’ on the back of your shirt, the name you wanted printed there. The name only reminded them of Alexia, and so your success and talent was disregarded.
Tears sprang to your eyes as you listened to the journalist’s questions. You were in a press conference with Jorge Vilda, the man insisting that you do it since your sister couldn’t.
“Do you have any news on when Alexia Putellas will be coming back?” you clear your throat as you muster up a smile.
“Her rehabilitation is going really well and she’s going to be back on the pitch playing football before you know it, I can assure you” your answer satisfies many of them as they nod enthusiastically and you lean back in your seat for a second.
“Is it hard having to live up to your name?” there’s a pause in another journalist’s question and many others look up from their notepads. “We know how good Alexia is, the whole world knows her name and she’s Spain’s national treasure. Do you fear you won’t be good enough?”
That’s a harsh blow and you digest his words. He’s basically telling you you’re nothing compared to your sister and you cast a glance towards Vilda who actively avoids eye contact with you. And they say favoritism doesn’t exist in team sports.
“Excuse me?” is what comes out of your mouth, in a more offended tone than you intended on and Jorge shoots you a look.
“I’m just wondering if you think you could reach her level of football” the journalist replies calmly, a wicked look on his face and you realize he’s trying to rile you up.
“Alexia is phenomenal, there’s no doubt about that and I’ll work hard, just like I have, to better myself and play alongside her.” is the answer you settle on and for the last thirty minutes of the press conference, you impatiently wait for it to end, your eyes glancing down at your watch every few minutes.
When you finally exit the room you almost walk straight into someone and as you look up to apologize you’re shocked to see your sister standing in front of you. She has a large smile on her face, one that falters as you wordlessly hug her, keeping your head firmly tucked under her chin. She notices the way you tiredly melt into her touch and she rocks the two of you side to side, as much as her knee and the crutches allow her to.
You contemplate on mentioning what happened, you want to tell her how hurt you are, you want her to know because she and Alba have always protected you from the harsh words of people. But you don’t. You decide against saying anything and you silently blink back the tears that have reappeared. Alexia already has too much pressure on her. Her career being on pause at the moment, media appearances that exhaust her and her injury which has taken a toll on her mental health, even though she’s doing much better now.
You don’t want to put this on her too and you don’t want her to worry. Most importantly, you didn’t want her to feel upset with you or for you. Much like your sisters, your priority was also them and their feelings. Since the death of your father, where you were much younger than either of them, the three of you and your mother had become more united, closer and it was something you cherished. You didn’t want anything ruining that and so you’d have to learn to live with these comments that made you feel like a nobody.
That was easier said than done, like many things. Your teammates were only ever interested in Alexia’s well being, ignoring your existence when your sister would visit training and team outings, but you weren’t mad at Alexia. It wasn’t her fault.
You tried your damn hardest to ignore the hurt whenever the fans would demand your attention only to ask about Alexia and you even ignored your own thoughts that plagued your mind. With every kick of the ball you asked yourself if Alexia would have done it better, if that one journalist and the many before, after and between were right and you’d never be half as good as her.
It got to a point where you almost asked Jonatan and Joan if promoting you to the senior team was the right decision. Patri has unknowingly stopped you in doing so as she pulled you away from the coach’s office door to walk with you to the training pitch.
It didn’t take long for your sisters to notice the change in your mood and behavior. Truthfully it wasn’t hard to spot but the people around you didn’t pay enough attention to it. You were more anxious and short tempered, you were hard to talk to, mainly because you kept silent. You also smiled less. Their happy little sister went from being the light of their day to being the reason they shared worried looks when you weren’t looking.
It had been during a family dinner, just the four of you, that Eli brought up something that rubbed you the wrong way and you felt your throat closing as you swallowed hard.
You forced yourself to chew the bite of food you had just taken before slowly standing up and excusing yourself from the dinner table.
“Mija” your mother pleads with you, knowing that she had worded her sentence wrong, but it had brought up the feelings you were trying to hide. Alba and Alexia look at you, eyes full of concern as you put your cutlery in the sink.
“I’m fine mami, just tired. Lo siento.” your words turn into a soft whisper as your nose twitches and you turn around before they could see your tears. They watch in tense silence as you walk up the stairs to your childhood room.
Alexia is up on her feet in an instant, stretching to reach for one of her crutches. As the oldest she felt it was her duty to check on you as soon as possible, to comfort you or try to help you in any way she could.
“Ale, be careful with your knee!” her mother calls after her as she hurries up the stairs.
“I’m fine mama” the brunette waves her off, rounding the corner to your room.
“Dios mío, it’s like they’re twins” Alba speaks up amusedly, finishing her dinner and helping her mother clean up. In spite of Alexia’s efforts you wouldn’t open up to her and she left your room with her own tears of frustration pooling in her eyes, annoyed she didn’t know why you were feeling this way.
Alba had tried soon after and she expected you to ignore her too, only you didn’t. After many tries from her you had voiced your thoughts, not all and not exactly how you felt. Just that you thought you’d always stay in Alexia’s shadow. You made her swear to you that she wouldn’t tell your injured sister, giving exactly that as an excuse to why. Alexia felt somewhat jealous that you had spoken to Alba but not her, nonetheless she was glad you allowed someone in.
It wasn’t until the match against Levante Las Planas, an incredibly successful game on your part too, that she realized what had you feeling so down.
It was way after the game, the sky already turning dark yet you were still out on the pitch. The only sound in the Johan Cruyff Stadium was the sound of your boots kicking the ball and Alexia frowned as she spotted your form, the field lit by the floodlights.
She had come to support the team and spent the last hour or two talking with them in the changing room. With someone always demanding her attention she didn’t have time to wonder where you were until everyone had already made their way home and your training bag was the only one still sitting on the bench.
You were juggling with a ball, one of the only things you were always better at than any of the teammates you’ve had. It was a great talent of yours, one that had Alexia mesmerized by your skills as she watched you. Eventually she makes her way over to you and catches the ball in the air.
“Ale!” you grumble, reaching to snatch the ball out of her hands and going back to what you were doing before. She didn’t need her crutches anymore, in fact she had already been allowed to do light training and jogging. It made things easier, one of those things being trying to get you to tell her what was going on.
“Y/N/N, talk to me” she pleads with you, her pleas going unheard by you as you focus on getting every touch right. “Pequeña, por favor.”
You cast a glance at her before turning your attention back to the ball by your feet. Alexia thinks for a moment and smirks slightly as an idea comes to her.
“Favorite color?” a confused expression is etched onto your face, but you answer.
“Math or biology?” She knew what she was doing. It was something she’d do when the two of you were younger to get information out of you. She’d make sure you were busy with something and then ask you the most random questions until somehow she’d figure out what she wanted. You never realized how she did it.
“Biology?” you squeak out, momentarily losing control of the ball before fixing your footing.
“Messi for sure” you nod to yourself, kicking the ball higher.
“Flight or invisibility?”
“I already am invisible” there it was. Her expression turns into one of sorrow and this time as she catches the ball she moves it out of your reach so you wouldn’t get it back. Now that your attention is only on her you realize what you’ve just said, how you revealed your feelings. You open and close your mouth a few times before turning your gaze downward, your feet suddenly far more interesting than the deep frown on your sister’s face.
Alexia reaches out to you, cupping the side of your face, her thumb lightly stroking your cheek under your eye.
“Y/N” she whispers and when you look up her heart breaks at the sight of the tears now running down your cheeks with a steady flow and she quickly pulls you into her warm embrace.
“Lo siento mucho” you sob into her neck, her hold on you just as tight as your grip is on her shirt.
“Why are you sorry? Hermana, I’m the one who should apologize.” she shushes you, momentarily looking up at the sky, trying to stay composed.
“I should have noticed how you felt and what was happening, I could have done something” she mutters into your hair as you shake your head.
“No Ale, it’s fine, I’m okay” you try to assure her but with your red eyes and puffy cheeks it’s practically impossible to believe you, she’d be stupid to believe you when your voice is shaking as you try to suppress your emotions.
“I’ll fix this bebé, okay? I’ll fix it” she speaks with determination and you don’t answer her, her mind is made up and you weren’t going to deny your sister of wanting to protect you.
Eventually the two of you sat down on the grass of the stadium after you shook your head when Alexia asked you if you’d like to go home. It’s where Alba finds you both, leant against each other under one of the floodlights and she wordlessly joins you, your sisters sandwiching you between them.
“Los amo a ambos” you tell them sincerely, smiling from ear to ear as they each kiss the side of your head or your cheek. You’re content for the first time in months, in the comfort of your loved ones arms and you feel like the world has stopped for a few minutes, just for the three of you to enjoy the peace.
Whatever happens from here on out would only be better than what it had been before, Alexia would make sure of that.
