Football Imagines

Alejandro Garnacho | i

Author's note: This is a request by mwrgwt  They wanted something with Garnacho where he and the reader are young parents. I know his girlfriend is expecting a boy, but in this case he's a girl's dad 😁 And there are mentions of 💩, you've been warned 😅
I hope you like it, and thank you for reading! 💜

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"You do it."

"No, you do it."

"I did the last one."

"No, you didn't."

"Yes, I did."

"No, you didn't, Alejandro. Look" I say, showing him my phone.

"What is that?"

"A list of the times you've taken care of it versus the times I've done it. I did the last one, see?"

"I can't believe you are keeping track of the times we change her diaper when she poos" he laughs.

"It's the only way to make sure you don't cheat and run away" I shrug.

"But I can't do it today, I already got changed into my tracksuit. Imagine that there is an explosion! I can't show up at Old Trafford smelling like poo!"

"Sorry" I shrug again.

"What if I cross paths with Sir Alex and I smell like poo? What will he think about me?"

"He's a dad and he knows that you also are a dad, a very new one. Didn't he ask you the other day how it was going?"

"He did, yeah. He was so nice... He even told me I could ask him for advice if I needed it."

"Then if you show up today smelling like poo, he'll understand. Though you can also tell him it's not you, that it comes from City's changing room."

"Woah, so savage" Alejandro laughs.

"Am I wrong, tho?" I smirk. "Anyway, enough talking. It's diaper time."

"Ok, fine. I'll do it" he sighs.

"Thank you" I say, kissing his cheek.

"Let's see what surprise the little one has for us tod... joder!"

"Oh my God" I say, taking a step back.

"It smells like shit!"

"Because it is shit!" I laugh, covering my nose and mouth with my hand.

"What did you feed her today?"

"She's two months old. You know what she ate today."

"Then what did you eat? Something rotten?"

"Idiot" I say, hitting in the arm. "I ate the same thing you did."

"I don't believe you. Look at the colour too, it is so... disgusting."

"Stop complaining and clean it."

"I can't."

"Alejandro, do it. If you keep staring at it while it is there in the open, you will definitely end up with your clothes smelling like poo."

"Ok, ok... I'll do it. Just stay still, ok?" he says to our daughter. "You don't want people to make fun of your papá, do you? No, you don't. Because you are a very good girl. One who definitely has something wrong with her tummy, but a very good girl."

"See, it wasn't that difficult. And look how happy she looks."

"Of course she is happy. I just got rid of a monster. Make you sure you throw it away, I don't want it growing legs and attacking us at night."

"I will, don't worry" I laugh.

"And now, papá is going to kick some Manchester City asses. Yes, he is" he says with a stupid voice, making our daughter do something like a giggle .

"Kicking asses metaphorically."

"Yes, yes. We don't actually kick asses... though sometimes we have to" he whispers, kissing her cheek. "See you after the game, ok?"

"We'll be there" I smile.

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"There they are! The two most beautiful girls in Manchester!" Alejandro says, walking towards us.

"Congratulations on the win and that goal."

"Thank you very much" he says before kissing me. "And how is the little one?"

"She just woke up."

"Just in time" he says, picking her up from the buggy. "Wait, what is that smell?"

"What?"

"That smell. Did she..." he says, lifting her and moving her closer to his face. "No! Again!"

"What?"

"She did it again!"

"No, she didn't!"

"She did!"

"I don't smell anything."

"You are used to the smell. It comes from you after all" he smirks.

"Idiot!" I say, hitting him.

"Hey, careful! I'm holding her!" he says, still smiling.

"She doesn't smell of anything. You are just trolling me."

"Maybe I am" he shrugs. "What are you typing on your phone now?"

"That you are an idiot who just earned himself a whole week of poo duty."

"I what?"

"What you deserve" I grin.

"That's not fair."

"It's already written on the list, there is no coming back now."

"You mother is a rude woman" he says to our daughter.

"And so is your father."

"Maybe that's why we love each other so much" he says, hugging me with his free arm and kissing my head.

"Maybe it is" I smile.