#barca b

[77kkura]

why are you as a 24 years old beefing with a bunch of teenagers also this is such a weird fucking thing to say what is actually wrong with you

[alexi-01]

pau victor what a season

[littlebeluu]

Can u write some Marc guiu where the reader is insecure about her stretch marks and during s*x Marc noticed she was trying to cover them and he moved her hands started kissing the stretch marks telling her she’s perfect/ beautiful and he loves her.. x

I'm so happy for this becauuuse, I've been keeping a little secret for some time. I may or may not follow Marc's secret account on Twitter... where he happened to like this post that i will translate for you (back when likes were visible 😭). I took this screenshot in February.

I think we all agree that the majority of guys don't give a fuck about this.

q: Women with stretch marks are not attractive.

I hope that this information overcompensates for this poorly written smut. Let's get into it.

warnings: smut, oral (f and m), penetration, insecurities.

I watched as Marc pulled off his shirt, his bleached blonde hair sticking up in every direction. His broad shoulders and powerful back rippling under his tanned skin. He was a sight to behold.

“Come here,” he commanded.

I slowly got up from my position on the bed and made my way over to him, my heart beating nervously. I stopped a few feet away, fidgeting with the hem of my own shirt.

“Closer,” he said, a smile playing on Marc's lips.

I took another step closer to him. His hands reached out, sliding my shirt up over my body. Marc's fingers grazing over my skin sent shivers down my spine. As my shirt was pulled off over my head, I instinctively moved my arms to cover my stomach and legs, my stretch marks. But he quickly pulled my hands away, his smile growing wider.

“I love these,” he said, gently running his fingers over the lines on my skin.

I looked up at him in shock. No one had ever said that before.

“But they’re not very pretty,” I replied, my cheeks blushing.

Marc raised a brow, “What?”

“They’re not... I don’t know... I just feel like they make me look ugly,” I explained.

He chuckled and took my hands, leading me over to the bed. We both sat down, his hands never leaving mine.

“They’re not ugly at all amor, they’re beautiful. They mean you’ve experienced life, plus they look like fucking lightning, or water reflection. And to me... that’s sexy as fuck” he said.

I smiled at his words. My eyes followed Marc's hands as they ran up and down my body, stopping at the waistband of my yoga pants. His hands slid underneath the fabric, slowly pulling them off of me. As his hands passed over the curves of my hips and butt, my breath caught in my throat. I stood up before him, completely naked.

“You’re so beautiful,” Marc said, his voice full of longing.

My cheeks flushed even more and I tried to move to cover myself again, but he stopped me.

“I want to see you,” he said, voice firm. “I want to see all of you.”

His hands moved to the front of my body, sliding up over my breasts and down over my stomach.

My eyes closed as Marc's hands explored every inch of my body. When they reached my stretch marks again, I opened my eyes and watched as his lips followed. Kissing every single one of them. I couldn’t help but let out a whimper of pleasure. His hands continued to move over my body, sliding between my legs.

He slipped two fingers inside of me and I let out a moan of pleasure. Marc's fingers curled inside of me and his thumb circled around my clit. I could feel my orgasm building. My moans got louder and louder until I was crying out as I came.

When my orgasm subsided he stood up. I watched in awe as his shirt was pulled off, his muscles flexing beneath his tanned skin. Marc pulled down his pants and boxers, freeing his large cock. My eyes widened at the sight.

“Fuck,” I said, my mouth falling open.

He chuckled, “Like what you see?” he asked, a smirk on his face.

I nodded eagerly. His hand wrapped around his shaft, stroking it up and down. I watched in amazement as pre-cum dripped out of the tip.

Marc picked me up, carrying me over to the bed. I was placed on my back, his body hovering over mine. His mouth moved to my neck, sucking and biting the skin there. I let out a loud moan, feeling another orgasm building. Marc kissed down my body, stopping at my breasts. His tongue flicked over my nipples, making me squirm under him. I could feel his cock rubbing against my pussy, but he didn’t enter me yet. Instead he continued to tease me, moving his tongue down to my pussy. I felt his warm breath on my clit, followed by his tongue licking at my folds. I cried out as another orgasm ripped through my body.

When I came back down, I opened my eyes to see him hovering over me, a smile on his face.

“You taste so good,” Marc said, “But I think I’ve made you cum enough for now.”

I nodded in agreement, still trying to catch my breath. His cock was still rock hard against my leg. I knew Marc hadn’t cum yet, but I was ready for him to.

“Please,” I begged, “I want to feel you inside of me.”

He chuckled, “Not yet.”

Marc moved so that he was straddling my chest. His cock was inches from my mouth. I licked my lips, knowing exactly what he wanted.

Marc took hold of my head and brought my mouth to his cock. I took him in my mouth, sucking him hard. I could feel his cock swelling in my mouth. I knew he was close due to his whimpers. His hand tightened around the back of my head and his cock hit the back of my throat as he came.

I swallowed his load, moaning in pleasure at the taste of his cum. Marc's hand stayed in my hair, his cock still in my mouth. I licked and sucked at him, trying to get every last bit of cum out of him. When I was finished, he pulled out of my mouth and kissed me. I could taste his salty cum on our tongues.

I felt his cock starting to grow hard again as we kissed. He broke the kiss and looked down at me.

“Are you ready?” Marc asked.

I eagerly nodded, “Yes, please.”

He positioned himself between my legs, his cock rubbing against my pussy. I moaned at the sensation, desperate for him to be inside of me. His hands went under my ass, lifting me slightly as he thrust into me. I cried out at the feeling of Marc filling me up. His cock felt so good inside of me, it was like he was made to fit me. Marc began to thrust in and out of me, his pace fast and hard. His hands gripped my ass as he fucked me. I could feel another orgasm building. My legs wrapped around his waist, holding onto him as he fucked me. I moaned loudly, my hands gripping the sheets. Marc's pace was becoming faster and faster, harder and harder.

“Fuck,” he cried out, “I’m going to cum.”

I nodded eagerly, my moans getting louder and louder until I was crying out as I came. I could feel his cock swell inside of me and then he was coming, his cum filling me up. His hands stayed on my ass as he emptied his load into me. Marc's cock twitched as his cum dripped out of me and onto the sheets.

He slowly pulled out of me and laid down next to me. Marc's hand moved to my stomach, running his fingers over my stretch marks.

“Thank you,” I said, looking over at him.

Marc smiled and kissed me. “I told you, you’re beautiful.”

I smiled back at him, feeling loved and appreciated. My insecurities now washed away thanks to his words. I laid my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. His hand still ran over my skin. I felt loved and protected in his arms. I kissed his chest and closed my eyes, falling into a peaceful sleep. Marc's arms held me tight as he fell asleep too.

[looooochie]

PLS WRITE ABT MARC BERNAL🛐

okay here

hate me // marc bernal

requested: yes

word count: 849

a/n: FEEDING YALL AN IMAGINE AFTER A MONTH?

summary: the average case scenario of enemies to lovers, but one rainy afternoon makes a difference.

There was a heck lot of bad blood between you and Marc. You two hated eachother for as long you can remember.

And it was even worse when you were a Madridsta and he was well... You already know he's a Barça player. Marc never knew how you two collided but, he pretty much hates you.

~

You were getting your stuff from your locker and suddenly it closed. Then you feel someone grab your collar, he had a line tattoo on his arm.

You sigh, to see your enemy pinning you. "The fuck do you want with me Marc..?" you look up.

"I want you to put something else on. That jersey makes me sick as hell." Marc says. It was clear he didn't like your Madrid shirt.

"You don't get it estupido (stupid). You cant make me stop supporting Madrid. So, Hala. Madrid." you reply angrily. Marc scoffs and let's go of your shirt. Then the bell rings.

As Marc walks, he looks at you with a scowl. "I better not catch you wearing that shitty shirt ever again." he says. You also scoff and begin to walk towards class.

~

It was finally the end of school and you were walking home. Then, you felt something cold hit your head. Next thing you know, you felt that se feeling, but all over your body.

That meant, it was going to rain now. You started to run, and the rain started to get heavier and heavier by the second. There is a Blue, cover thing where you could sit down and take shelter or something..

You got to that place and sat down. Every part of you was drenched due to the rain water. You take your hoodie from your backpack to try and keep warm, and that was not wet.

Then, you hear some footsteps snd you look, to see it was him. It was none other than him, Marc Bernal. As Marc is walking, he sees you.

At first, he tried to ignore you by walking past you and acting like he didn't care. You were practically freezing. And you didn't expect Marc to care. He then suddenly stops and walks backwards, slightly looking at you.

"Hey loser. Are you okay?" he says in a playful tone. "Why the hell would you care, don't you hate me?" you scowl back, giving him a glare. "I do but, you don't look too okay there."

"What sort of thing possessed you- ah- ah- Achoo!" you say, but then you get interrupted by a sneeze. Marc sighs and takes off his hoodie and tosses it to you.

"Wh-what the.." you say as you look at the hoodie. "Look, I didn't do it because I felt like being nice, it's because you looked like you were getting sick." Marc scoffs again, with a little blush.

"Uhm.. thanks? I guess." "Don't mention it." He continues. Then Marc walks off. You were extremely confused right now.

Why on earth would your sworn enemy want to give you his hoodie Just, why? You just then sneeze again, so you put on the hoodie that Marc gave you. Oh my God, it even smells like him. But, the scent was awfully nice though.

~

Ever since that thing that happened between you and Marc, you began to start liking him. You always kept trying to deny it, but you just help it.

~

You were sitting in class, almost half asleep because it was THAT boring. "I'm going to get some whiteboard markers from the art room, there better not be any chaos." the teacher says, and she left the room.

It was silent for a few moments then, it slowly started to turn into a chaotic mess. In the midst of it all, Marc got something from his backpack, and got a pocky stick from it.

Then, he put it in his mouth and tapped you on the shoulder. "Hey loserface. You know how to play the pocky game right?" Marc says.

"Uhm yeah, why?" you ask him in response. "I wanna play with you and beat you to prove that I'm better than you." he replies, with a playful tone.

"Sure. I'd never back down from challenges." you reply, then you put the other side of the pocky stick in your mouth. The class fell silent and turned their attention towards you and Marc.

Your mouths began getting closer and closer to one another, and they were almost together. Then out the blue, Marc bites the stick and crashed his lips onto yours.

This was totally unexpected. Well, you liked Marc back too. So it wasn't really a suprise. He ran his fingers through your hair and you traced the tattoo on his arm.

You and him pull apart, looking at eachother, blushing. "Wow Marc.. that was.. Amazing." you say.

"Stupid girl! Quit being so cute!" Marc says, hugging you. "Is that so? More like you're the one who's being cute." you say as you hig him back. "Oh shut it!" Marc responds, still hugging you.

[nthatshowufeel]

Pedri looking so unexplainably dad

[guardioland]

barca B team reunion yesterday ❤️🫶🏻

[archivingbarca]

FCBarcelona: the boss.

(ig, 15/09/24)

[paulodybaeeela]

They really said we’re taking no chances, if we can’t beat them on the pitch we’ll beat them off of it.

[vitorroquesgf]

worst news ever what the hell

[alexi-01]

aleix garrido we will be back this is just a set back ❤️

[littlebeluu]

Hi! Hope you're day is going well :)

If it's okay I'd like to request smth for marc, if not just ignore this haha. I actually have a few ideas but just pick the one you like the most :)

1. It's kinda similar to the one you already wrote I guess but reader being insecure cos shes not as conventionally attractive as other wags, like she's not ugly but she's not a model either yk? Maybe also like people online hating on her body and/or weight and she doesn't wanna make a big deal out of it but marc notices and like reassures her and stuff (also in my head, reader is like a really private person who doesnt like a lot of attention, has her social media accounts on private and doesn't post anything except a handful of stories every now and then but that's obvi just me, doesn't have to be like that)

2. Marc reaching reader catalan (in my mind reader can already speak Spanish but that's not a must obvi)

3. Marc teaching reader football and she's just really bad at it haha idk I think it could be cute

4. Height difference (I'm 5'3 haha so this is really a self insert) like maybe reader wearing his clothes for the first time and they're so adorably oversized on her or like just anything about height difference really :)

You can obviously change stuff about the requests if there's anything you don't feel comfortable with or don't like, I don't mind. Sorry if it's too much stuff at once btw, I'm not really good at writing this kinda stuff.

Thanks so much in advance already, I hope you have an amazing day (or night, depending when you're reading this haha)

I'll do other ones too 🫶🏻

I might have some trouble to do the second one cause I also don't speak catalán but I'll try anyway.

"Insecure"

marc guiu x female reader

warnings: none

The car engine hummed softly as Marc and I settled into our seats after training. Our eyes met in the rearview mirror, and I felt a flutter in my chest. Despite the hours apart, his presence still had that effect on me.

"Hey," Marc greeted, his voice warm but tinged with concern.

"Hey," I responded, trying to muster enthusiasm.

Marc's brow furrowed as he studied my reflection. "Are you okay?"

I nodded, forcing a smile. "Yes."

His eyes narrowed, unconvinced. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper.

Marc sighed, reaching for the radio. As music filled the car, we drove in silence, the tension palpable. Every few minutes, I caught him glancing at me, worry etched on his face.

"I'm fine," I assured him, though the words felt hollow.

"You're lying," he said softly, his voice a mixture of hurt and frustration.

I hesitated, torn between protecting him from my insecurities and the need to be honest. "It's just..."

"Tell me," he encouraged, his tone gentler now.

"Why do you think I'm upset?" I deflected, buying time.

Marc's eyes softened as he looked at me. "I don't know, but I've noticed you haven't really smiled today. Not your genuine smile, anyway."

"Of course I did," I protested weakly.

"No," he shook his head. "I know you better than anyone else. I can tell when you're feeling down, even if you don't say anything."

His words hung in the air as I struggled to find my voice.

"What's wrong, babe?" Marc pressed, his concern evident. "You're going to tell me, or..." He trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished.

I took a deep breath, feeling tears prick at my eyes. "I'm sorry. It's nothing important."

"It must be something if your smile hasn't been genuine in the past 24 hours."

"Yeah, well..."

"Just say whatever it is," he urged, his voice a mixture of frustration and worry.

"Honestly? People have been saying horrible things about me lately," I admitted, my voice cracking.

Marc's expression darkened. "What? Who?"

"It's okay," I tried to reassure him, wiping away a stray tear. "Really. Just forget about it."

"No," Marc insisted, pulling the car over to the side of the road. He turned to face me fully. "What happened?"

I hesitated, feeling foolish. "It's stupid."

"Just tell me," he pleaded, taking my hand in his.

"Your teammates' girlfriends posted photos with me yesterday," I began, my voice barely audible.

"And?"

"Everyone's saying horrible stuff. Like... like I'm the ugliest and fattest girlfriend."

Marc's face contorted with anger and disbelief. "What? Who's saying this?"

"People online," I mumbled, ashamed of how much it affected me.

"So nobody real?" he asked, his tone softening.

"Well, they could actually exist somewhere," I argued weakly.

"Don't even joke around," Marc frowned. "They don't deserve any importance. You shouldn't read comments under their posts anyway."

I sighed, looking out the window. "I know I shouldn't, but sometimes I can't help it. It's like picking at a scab - you know it's bad for you, but you do it anyway."

Marc's expression softened with understanding. "I get it, but those comments are toxic. They're not worth your time or energy."

"You're right," I admitted, turning back to face him. "I just wish I could stop caring what others think."

Marc reached over and squeezed my hand. "It's not easy, but we'll work on it together. Your worth isn't determined by strangers on the internet."

I took a deep breath, feeling vulnerable. "I guess sometimes those words hurt more than others. Like... maybe I wish I had more confidence. Being known is so overwhelming, and I wish I knew how to get over myself. I guess... I envy the confidence of other girls I meet."

Marc's eyes filled with understanding and love. "You're not ugly nor fat, Y/n. You're beautiful, inside and out."

"I didn't say I was, people said it," I protested weakly.

"But you think it," he said softly, his thumb tracing circles on my hand.

"No," I lied, unable to meet his gaze.

Marc cupped my face gently, forcing me to look at him. "Tell me something, Y/n. When was the last time you read something nice?"

I felt a rush of guilt for worrying him. "Well today, you told me something nice this morning. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound like such a baby."

"Stop apologizing," he said firmly. "You're beautiful, and I'm so lucky to be your boyfriend. But more than that, you're kind, intelligent, and strong. Those people online? They don't know you. They don't see how you light up a room, how you make everyone around you feel special."

Tears spilled down my cheeks as Marc's words washed over me. He pulled me into a tight embrace, and I buried my face in his shoulder.

"I love you," he whispered into my hair. "Every part of you. And I promise, we'll work on building your confidence together. You don't have to face this alone”

As we sat there, wrapped in each other's arms, I felt a weight lift from my shoulders. The cruel words of strangers seemed to fade away, replaced by the warmth of Marc's love and support.

"Thank you," I murmured, pulling back to meet his gaze. This time, my smile was genuine.

Marc leaned in, his lips meeting mine in a soft, tender kiss. It was gentle and reassuring, conveying all the love and support he had for me. As we parted, he rested his forehead against mine, our breaths mingling.

I reached up, running my fingers through his hair before pulling him in for another kiss, this one deeper and more passionate. When we finally broke apart, we were both slightly breathless.

Marc started the car again, but before pulling back onto the road, he turned to me with a mischievous grin. "Now, how about we go get some ice cream and plot our revenge on those haters"

I laughed, feeling lighter than I had in days. "Ice cream, yes. Revenge... maybe we'll save that for another day."

As we drove off, hand in hand, I realized that while I couldn't control what others said about me, I could choose to surround myself with love and positivity. And with Marc by my side, I felt ready to face whatever challenges came our way.

Before we reached the ice cream shop, Marc pulled over once more. He cupped my face gently and gave me one last, lingering kiss. "You're beautiful," he murmured against my lips. "Inside and out. Don't ever forget that."

I smiled into the kiss, feeling truly loved and cherished. With Marc's support and these tender moments, I knew I could overcome any insecurity. We drove on, looking forward to our ice cream date, our hands intertwined and hearts full of love.

[anytimebitchess]

Lewy has for the 8th time in a row exceeded the limit of 20 goals in league games!!!!

[cmatain]

Disponible en Acceso Abierto el número 16 (2023) del «Anuario Calderoniano» (ISSN: 1888-8046)

Tras la publicación, hace unos días, del número 17 (2024) del Anuario Calderoniano, ahora se encuentra disponible en Acceso Abierto (Open Access) el número 16, correspondiente al año 2023. Los materiales pueden consultarse y descargarse tanto en RECYT, el Repositorio Español de Ciencia y Tecnología de la FECYT, como en DADUN, el Depósito Académico Digital de la Universidad de Navarra. Ese…

[culerfc]

barca b didn’t get promoted but fucking asspanyol did. worst day ever

[baekhvuns]

messi to mls 🥹

at least he left pissg <3

waiting for mls to recruit the entirety of argentina’s team <3

[yamumsyadadd]

Sometimes all you need is a little love

At 5, you were loved. Your mum and dad adored you. Everything was about you and your parents.  They worked hard, and in return you got to fulfil your dream of being a footballer. 

At 8, things started to change. Sundays that were usually filled with church in the morning, and Barcelona games in the afternoon slowly started to disappear. 

Your mum and dad were fighting. She was looking frail, unwell, a shell of herself. He looked angry, distant, with marks on his arms, coming home smelling like cigarettes and flowers. It was a weird smell, it would linger in the air for hours to come. 

Gone were the days when they would both come to your football. It was one or the other, sometimes even none of them. 

At 10, you found her. Hanging. You just sat there, watching her. Eventually going to the neighbours you thought you knew. Turns out they moved out and there was a new family. An older lady, Eli. She let you come inside and called for help while distracting you with cookies and her white fluffy dog. 

From that day, things changed. Your father’s love became less and less. His violence and drinking became more. He had a new girlfriend every other month. Barely lasting the entire calendar month. 

By age 12, La Masia came knocking. A full scholarship was on offer. It was your dream. Something you and your parents had worked hard for, together. Expect now it was just you. Forging your dad’s signature, you dropped the forms back off. Transferring to their academy the week later. 

La Masia was hard. Harder than you expect. Maybe it was because things at home were worse than ever before, your dad lost his job, the random woman continued however now there was random men added into it. Home wasn’t a safe place for you or anyone in that case. 

At 14, things hit an all time low, bruises and marks were becoming harder to hide with your promotion to the Barca B team. They were all so close to each other, hanging out after training, getting food or going shopping, their weekends were all spent together. But not with you. As much as they tried you shielded away from it. School and football were the two things that matter - there was no time for anything else, no time to worry about anything else. 

The closest thing you had to a parent was the lady across the hall, every few days there would be a plate of food at the front door when you arrived home. On Sundays it was a bigger meal, you’d divvy it out so it would last a few extra days. The limited money you did have was given to your dad, you’d keep some of it but it wasn’t enough for the bus fare and food. It was one of the other. 

Every morning you would make the one hour trek from your home in Mollet del Vallès, using that time to do your homework, study plays or rewatch games, sometimes even catching a few more minutes of sleep. Every evening, after training you’d stay and help pack away the equipment, sometime just relishing in the warmth of the facility, the endless hot water, the feeling of safety. 

One night, after missing the last bus, you hide in a supply closet. Knowing there was no way you’d get home that night, you huddled around the spare clothes and clean towels. It oddly was one of the best sleeps you’d had in years. The constant security that would walk around the facility made you feel safe. 

After that initial night, there were many more nights of sleeping at the facility. Was it the best idea? Probably not, but it was the safest, and the warmest. 

15 was when things really changed. At some point, your dad just stopped coming home. He’d be gone for days at a time. This time though, he was gone for almost three weeks. You bloomed in the silence. The apartment was clean, airy, in contrast to the dark, stuffy air that usually resides. 

On Christmas Eve things came to ahead. There wasn’t much food left. A few eggs, some bread and some cereal. No milk, vegetables or anything fresh. Biting the bullet, you made your way across the hall to the older ladies door. She had told you before that if you needed anything, to just knock. So you did, rocking back and forth on your heels, you were shocked when the door swung open and none other than Alexia Putellas, captain of the Barcelona Women’s team, 2 time Ballon D’Or winner, was standing there with a smile on her face. 

“Hola pequeña, are you ok?”

“Oh, um, hola? Is Eli here?” 

“Si, come in.” You stood there for a moment, staring at her, “mami a pequeña is here for you!” Eli, the nice, caring older woman was Alexia Putellas mother. Of course she was. 

“Neña! To what do I owe this visit?” 

“I am very sorry to interrupt and be rude, but I was wondering if you had any milk I could please have? My papi has gone away for a bit and forgot to leave some money.” 

“You’re alone? You’re no older than 16?” A smaller but almost identical person chimed in. 

“Si. I am 15”. A shy nod was all you could muster, the energy you previously had disappeared. 

“Well where did he go? Are you alone for Christmas?” 

“Uh, um a work trip? Si, si, a work trip! He will be back at some point, I’m sure.” It was a lie, a terrible horrible lie and everyone in that room knew. All three older women shared a look. 

“Here is some milk Nena. Do you want to stay for dinner?” 

“No no that’s okay. Thank you for the milk, I will give you money when I get some!” 

“Nonsense dear. It’s just milk.” 

Silently you grabbed the milk and started to walk towards the door, leaving the three women staring at you. Eli’s eyes expressed sadness, Alexia’s were confused, she knew you from somewhere but she couldn’t place it, Alba was bewildered, she remembered being 15 and there was no way in hell that Eli would’ve left her home alone, but especially not over the holiday period. 

“She is a good girl. She studies hard, she’s at La Masia. Always very polite but something is off in the house.” 

Alexia’s head whipped around, “she’s at the academy?” Eli nodded, “how does she get there? it’s a 40 minute drive and she’s not old enough?” 

“I don’t know Alexia, tonight was the most she’s spoken to me since she came asking for the ambulance when her mami died.” 

“That was her?” A nod was all alexia received. For the rest of the night they were all silent, you went to bed with a small amount of food in your stomach. The 8 pieces of French toast were enough to get you through until the farmers market opened on the 26th. 

A dread washed over you the following afternoon when there was a knock at the front door. Opening it slowly, and only half showing your face, Alexia and Alba (you learnt her name after googling Alexia), were standing there. 

“Hola pequeña. Mami asked if you and your papi wanted to join us for dinner?” Alexia voice was firm, almost as if there wasn’t room for you to say no. 

“Um, sure. My papi isn’t back yet, but what time does she want us?” 

“Now-“

“An hour-“ both girls spoke at the same time. Alba wanting to give you time to do whatever you needed, but alexia wanted you father to show himself. Unbeknownst to you, she had reached out to the La Masia staff and a few of the younger girls. 

Vicky and Martina had told her the little information that they knew. You were young, talented and a hard worker. You’d catch the bus to and from training, never really talking to anyone and certainly never hanging out with them. They’d offered to help you with your homework, Vicky realising very quickly that you were both in the same grade despite you being two years younger. Both Vicky and Martina felt that there was something off, never seeing your father or anyone supporting you at games, not even at the international friendly with the under 17s that you’d been called up too. 

“Okay? How about half an hour?” 

“That works. See you soon pequeña!” Alba grabbed her older sisters arm, pulling her away from the door. You slid down the back of yours once it was firmly closed. You needed to think of the perfect lie. Maybe you could say he was too tired, or stuck in traffic. No that wouldn’t work, if he was stuck in traffic they’d wait. The truth wasn’t an option. There’s no way you could just blurt out that you didn’t know where he was. 

The dinner was uncomfortable, the food was delicious but the unasked questions were making a lot of tension. You didn’t miss the way Alba and Eli continued to glance at you, or how their eyes went wide when you asked for more. This definitely cemented that something was wrong. 

The loud clattering of Alexia’s fork and knife, stopped you from shoveling more food in your mouth. 

“This is ridiculous. Pequeña, where is your papi?” 

“Don’t know.” You spoke nonchalantly, putting more food into your mouth. Confused looks where thrown around. Eli’s head slowly reaching for yours and taking the fork, “sweetheart, what do you mean you don’t know?” 

“I don’t know. He could be stuck at work, or in traffic or asleep.” I shrugged. It was a semi decent lie. 

“Does he leave for long periods often?” 

“No. It’s usually just a few days.” 

“Where does he go?” 

To get high, to fuck hookers, to steal, “work trips.” 

Thankfully the subject was dropped as Eli gave you back your fork. It didn’t feel like Christmas, no gifts were exchanged, no decorations or Christmas movies. It felt like a Sunday after church, all that was left was a trip to Camp Nou to watch a game but that wasn’t going to happen. Not now, not ever again. 

Eli sent you home when a lot of leftovers, ignoring the comments from her own two daughters that they would’ve liked to have some too. It was enough food for at least a month. You’d eaten plenty at dinner so the need for food tomorrow would be less. 

The following week was a blur. There was only two training sessions and school was off until after the New Year. Your father had yet to make a reappearance and due to the holidays, you were hiding in the house so you wouldn’t have to see any three of the Putellas women and answer questions. 

It worked, for three weeks, until the night you had planned to sleep in the same storage room as usual. Alexia appeared, fresh out of the shower. 

“Pequeña? What are you still doing here? It’s late.” 

“I lost track of time. I was studying.” 

“How are you getting home? Is your papi coming?” 

“No. I’m catching the bus.” You felt guilty lying to her, but it was the best option. No one would get hurt this way. 

“Let me drive you home. It’s late and you really shouldn’t be catching the bus.” 

Before you could argued, she’d grabbed the straps of your bag, dragging it and you along to her car. It was an awkward 40 minutes. Her car was much more comfortable than the bus, warmer and safer. You were still on high alert, especially when she was asking you questions. 

For the past five years you didn’t let anyone get close. It was easier that way. You didn’t have to explain the tiredness that was evident on your face, the random bruises that happened, the obvious weightless from the lack of food. 

From that moment on you silently agreed to keep everyone further way. You had to be more careful, no more roaming the halls after training. No more asking Eli for milk, or bread, or anything. Leaving extra early in the morning or as soon as training ended. No more being vulnerable. 

The day of your 16th birthday was supposed to be a good one. However your father had other plans. You’d been training with the senior team due to some injuries and then needing players, Jona had told you last night he would play you after halftime. A senior debut on your 16th birthday. 

That night you’d come home so incredibly happy only for it to come crashing down when your extremely intoxicated father decided to start a fight over the lack of money. He didn’t stop hitting you for what felt like hours. You weren’t sure if you passed out from the pain or from the exhaustion but you knew the following day it would be hell. 

The house was littered with used needles, smashed and empty bottles, and it smelt of cigarettes and stale booze. Your arms and legs were covered in bruises as well as a shiner on your face. That one would be the hardest to cover. it took an hour and large amount of makeup before you were confident about leaving the house. The bruise was mostly covered. You didn’t think it was that obvious though. The looks you received on the bus, and even as you walked through the halls, didn’t make you question your makeup job. 

True to his word, jona put you on in the 75th minute, subbing Salma off. It was electrifying, a rush you’d never felt before. Then game ended with a win, of course, there was a lot of praise from the older girls. Mario was incredibly impressed and offered to work with you more if you were interested. Something you immediately said yes too. Your bubble was burst when Alexia came over to tell her Eli was there and wanted to see you. 

The moment you were within arms reach of Eli, she could tell something was wrong. So could Alexia’s girlfriend, Olga, who she had just introduced you too. After chatting a bit more, Eli demanded she would take you home, making you hurry to gather your belongings in the locker room, forgoing a shower as you didn’t bring makeup to re-cover the bruise on your face. 

“Olga you need to help her with makeup.” Alba joked before hugging her sister goodbye. Olga and Eli shared a concerned looked. 

“Why is she wearing make up?” 

“Mami she’s 16. Teenagers wear makeup all the time. It doesn’t mean anything.” Eli shook her head, there was something wrong but she didn’t know what or how to ask you. 

“Ale, keep an eye on her yeah?”

“Olga she’s fine. She’s just a teenager.” Olga’s eyes pleaded with her, “si fine. I will watch over her.” 

Two weeks later things came crashing down horribly. You’d been moved into the senior squad officially, that came with perks. More money was the main one. It would only be a few months until you’d officially graduate high school, that meant you could pick up a part time job as well as football. What you didn’t account for was your father. 

When you walked in the door you were greeted with a random lady and a little boy, no older than 3, your father was very quickly shoving things into boxes and taping them up. 

“What’s going on?” Neither of the adults spared a glance at you. 

“I’m leaving. Thea and I are moving to Madrid.” 

“I can’t leave papi! The season is still going and i haven’t finished school yet!” 

“Good thing you weren’t invited then.” The last scoffed, flipping her son to the other hip. Your eyes were wide. Not believing what you were hearing. 

“Tomorrow, the moving truck will be here. You need to be gone by then.” 

“Wait! Where will I go? You can’t leave me here!” You yelled after them as they left the apartment. No longer caring who heard or who saw. 

“You’re not my problem anymore. I couldn’t care less about what you do or don’t do.” He turned to leave, “you could do the world a favour and hang yourself like your mother did.” With that he was gone. The apartment was mostly empty. 

You found the two biggest bags that you could carry. Filling one with all your football stuff, the other with you clothes, the few jumpers of your mothers that you had left, a sleeping bag and pillow. In your school backpack you packed your laptop and all the school work, plus your important documents (birth certificate, photo IDs, passport.) 

Though you had no idea where you would go, you knew you’d figure it out. What you didn’t account for was Eli. of course she would notice the moving vans, and the lack of you. 

Every second night you’d leave the training facility, set on finding somewhere that was semi safe to sleep. Even though it was the start of February, you knew the beach would be ok. There was enough light to keep you safe, you also had a little knife you stole from your father along time ago. 

The last morning before it all went to shit, you were sitting with your bags, still in your sleeping bag, watching the sunrise. Barcelona was quiet at this time of the morning. A few runners or cyclists around but other than that it was peaceful. 

“Pequeña? What are you doing here so early?” A semi familiar face dropped in front of you, startling you out of your thoughts. Unable to talk, you just stared at her. “I’m Olga, Alexia’s girlfriend. We met a couple of weeks ago. Do you remember?” 

I nodded, she continued on, “what are you doing here? Did you sleep here?”

“What? No! No I just like coming here in the mornings!” I hurried to get up, quickly shoving my things back into my bags, that’s when the knife dropped on the sand, right in front of Olga. We both stopped and stared at it. 

“Pequeña-“

“I better go. Enjoy your day.” I quickly picked it up and all but ran towards the bus stop. My thoughts were spiralling. She was going to tell Alexia. I wouldn’t be allowed to play, I’d be sent away somewhere else. 

Training was hell. No matter how much you tried to avoid Irene, Marta or Alexia they always appeared. It didn’t seem that Olga had told Alexia or that anyone else knew but it was only a matter of time. All you needed was a few weeks, just to get through the Copa de la Reina final and then you could figure it out. 

Thankfully the week went fast and the game on the weekend was a success. There were no more run ins with Olga, or any of the captains of the team. You went as far to complete ignore Eli, Alba and Olga after the game. Quickly running into the locker room and showering before anyone else. 

It was harder to hide in the facility after home games. It was busy with trainers, medical staff, admin staff, basically everyone but you figured it out. It was a restless sleep, the close call with Olga playing in your mind on repeat. 

Unbeknownst to you, Eli had mentioned it to Alexia at their usual family dinner post match. 

“Nena moved.” 

“To where?” Both Alba and Alexia’s head shot up. 

“I don’t know. She didn’t say anything. I heard her papi say Madrid. I’m assuming she isn’t joining since she’s still playing here.” 

“I’ll find out.” Olga knew in that moment she needed to come clean about finding you on the beach. Clearly you didn’t have somewhere safe to stay. Later that night, when it was just her and Alexia cuddled in their bed she did just that. 

“I saw Nena at the beach the other morning.” 

“Likely place for her to be. She has mentioned loving the beach in the past.” Alexia dismissed what Olga was saying, not particularly understanding why that was important. 

“No ale. I think she slept there. She had a sleeping bag and heaps of stuff.” 

Silence encapsulated the couple. “I’ll deal with it.” was all the captain said before rolling over and going to sleep. Expect, she didn’t sleep. She played through every interaction she’d had with you, every imagine of you in her mind. You looked tired, the light behind your eyes was gone, you had fully retreated back into your shell, barely talking at training or games, only answering questions when directly asked. 

Something was definitely wrong, very very wrong. Enlisting the help of Irene and Marta and Olga, they would find out exactly how wrong it was. 

It was evident when you came into training that you hadn’t slept, the truth was that the beach no longer felt safe. Not after that creepy man was watching you. Staying at the facility every night wasn’t an option, neither was staying with a teammate. So you stay at the train station all night. It was relatively safe, but the thought of that man kept you awake. 

You’d gotten half way through the day when you snapped. Usually you’d try and stick to Caro or Keira’s sides. Caro because she was quiet and Keira because she couldn’t exactly understand you and you couldn’t understand her. Unfortunately the gym groups were assigned differently today, meaning you got stuck with Mapi, Pina, Patri and Cata. The group of people you hated being around the most. There was never a quiet moment, they were always loud. So incredibly loud. 

It was after Mapi had ruffled your hair for the third time that you mumbled for her to stop. 

“We can’t hear you gallina. Speak up.” Patri laughed. 

“I said, don’t touch me. And don’t call me gallina.” Your patience was thinning, and fast. 

“Cheer up gallina. We are just playing.” Mapi went to ruffle your hair again, your hands landing on her chest and shoving her back into Cata. 

“I said don’t fucking touch me Maria!” Everyone stopped, turning in horror to see the scene unfold. Tears welled in your eyes, you bolted as fast as you could. 

“Nena-“ Ingrid tried to grab your wrists but you dodged her. 

Alexia, Irene and Marta all stopped what they were doing. It was extremely unlike you to be so aggressive and rude. No matter how shy you were, you always used your manners. They all shared a look before following you to the locker room. 

You rushed through the locker room trying to get your bags packed as fast as possible. You had no idea where you would go, but you needed to get out of here. Far away from the sympathetic looks of your teammates. You were so far in your own head that you didn’t hear the cleats on the floor or the door to the locker opening. 

“Nena? What’s wrong?” Irene’s hand on your shoulder startled you. 

“Nothing I’m fine. I need to go.” You shrugged her hand off you, putting your backpack on and grabbing your duffle that contained your pillow and sleeping bag. 

“Please let us help Nena. We want to help you but we can’t if you don’t let us.” Marta spoke up next, as you looked up you saw that Alexia was standing between you and the door, the only route out of the locker room. 

“Please move. I want to go home.” 

“Home? Where is that Nena? It’s not in Mollet del Vallès. I know that much.” 

You squeezed your eyes shut and took a deep breath, yelling at your captains was a horrible idea, truly horrible. Even in this mental state you knew that, “I do not want to be rude Alexia, but it’s none of your business. I come here, I train, I play, I do as I am told, I don’t make trouble or do anything wrong. Please let me leave.” 

Alexia looked troubled. You needed help, that much was clear, but you were right. You did everything that was asked of you, never complaining or whining about it. She looked to Irene for help, Irene simply nodded and alexia moved. 

“If you need help, somewhere to stay, you have my address and you know where Mami is.” 

A curt nod was all she received and then you were gone. As fast as you could walk without causing any attention to yourself. You spent the next few hours walking around. When it was dark and late, the train station was where you headed. It wasn’t until you were comfy that you realised you grabbed the wrong bag. You left your sleeping bag and more importantly your phone charger at the training facility. There wasn’t much that could be done now, you just had to wait it out. 

As you walked into training, you could feel everyone’s eyes on you. You were late, never have you been late before. The lack of proper sleep, nutrition and your body always on high alert was getting to you. By the end of training you were exhausted. Barely having the energy to walk into the locker rooms to shower. Usually when someone was late without giving a proper warning, they’d run laps. No one told you to run laps so you didn’t. 

A few days later, at the beach, Olga saw you again. This time you looked worse than before. She made her way to a local bakery, getting water, coffee and something for you to eat before making her way back towards you and hoping you wouldn’t run off. 

“¿Niña? Can I sit with you?” She startled you, that much was obvious but you nodded and she handed over everything she bought. 

“Why are you here?” 

“I like the beach.” 

“You’re sleeping here?” She could tell you were scared, it took a while for you to reply. 

“Only sometimes.” 

Olga nodded, the silence settling over the both of you. “Let me take you to training?” 

The drive seem to take forever. It was uncomfortable, Olga wanted to get more information out of you, you wanted nothing more then to be swallowed into a black hole. 

“Niña? If you don’t have anywhere safe and warm to stay, please come to mine and Ale’s? We won’t be mad, or disappointed. We want to help you. Okay?” 

You gave her a small nod, moving to wipe your tears and get out of the car. Unbeknownst to the both of you, Alexia was in her own car a few metres away watching the whole thing. 

It took a day for Alexia to coax all the information out of Olga but when she finally did, she was heartbroken. The thing she had hoped wasn’t true, was in fact true. You were living on the street. Sleeping wherever you could, your papi had left you to fend for yourself. It’s not that you were doing a horrible job at it, but it was obvious you weren’t eating or sleeping enough. 

The night of the El Classico is when things went truly horrible. Alexia had told Irene, Mapi and Marta what had happened but any time they tried to talk to you, you literally ran away.

The streets of Barcelona were well and truly alive. The Madrid fans had left the Johan feeling annoyed, angry and disappointed. Anyone would when their team lost 7-0. It probably wasn’t the smartest idea to sleep on the beach that night, but there truly wasn’t anywhere else. The train station would’ve been worse, the facility wouldn’t be quiet until after midnight, and there was no way you’d go to a teammates house. 

You’d only just drifted to sleep when you heard the group of guys approaching. They were drunk, that much was obvious. Pretty quickly you woke yourself up, but you didn’t dare to move. Maybe they would just keep walking. Your back was facing the sea, and them but as soon as they laid their hands on you, you turned around. 

“Oye, it’s the Barca puta.”

“You’re the reason we lost.”

“We should break her legs!” 

The fear set it. As soon as the hits started, they ended. Not only had they assaulted you, but they had stolen your school bag that contained your laptop, water bottle and phone charger. It look a while for the pain to become tolerable. you could recognise that you were bleeding, your ribs hurt, along with your arm, head and leg. You were scared and alone. 

Abandoning the beach, you made your way to the one place you could think of. The two women who had urged you time and time again to let them help you, you had refused but right now you needed it more than anything. With the help of your phone maps, you managed to get to their apartment. It took a lot longer than it should have, having to stop every now and then to take deep breaths when the pain was too bad. 

You weakly raised your fist to the door, the energy was zapped out of you. It felt like forever before someone answered. 

“Hol- holy fuck. Alexia! Come here neña. Let me help you. ALEXIA!” Olga answered the door, annoyed that someone was knocking so late at night. The minute she opened it, she wanted to cry. You were stood there, bloodied and bruised. Seemingly out of it, looking so small and frightened. 

She starting leading you to the kitchen when alexia finally came, “what? Oh my god, pequena! What happened?” 

“Hurt.”

“Where hurts neña?”

“Head bleeding… arm broken, I think… maybe ribs… leg too. Stole my school bag.” Alexia was freaking out, the usual calm, stoic captain was on the verge of tears. 

“We need to call the police Olga! And mami and Irene and-“

“Ale stop. Neña, drink this yes? Alexia is going to get the first aid from the bathroom and we are going to clean you up. We will need to take you to the hospital, but that can wait for a few minutes.” She gave alexia a pointed look while she opened the water bottle and helped you drink. 

Their apartment was soft. Very homey and not clinical like you imagined. There were photos of Alexia and her family, Olga and hers, then of them both. There were plants scattered around, a few awards here and there but not many, the one thing that seemed out of place was the dog bed and toys. 

“Dog?” Olga’s eyes followed yours, confused as to what you were asking. 

“Nala. She died last year but we haven’t been able to get rid of her things.”

“Sorry”. Alexia arrived back with the first aid kit, phone to her ear and a lot less panicked but a lot more mad. that stressed you out, Olga picking up on it straight away. Things moved fast from that point. Alexia and Olga cleaned you up the best they could but ultimately decided that you needed the hospital. It was all a blur. One minute you were in their apartment, the next you were in a hospital gown sitting in a room. 

Alexia was non stop pacing, you sat there, wide eyed waiting for her to say something. 

“You can say it.” You whispered. 

Both girls stopped and looked at you confused, “say what pequena?” 

“I told you so’ or ‘you should’ve let me help’, whatever you have planned just say it.” You could no longer look at them, staring down at the floor. You missed the look of heartbreak sweep across both their faces. 

“No no pequena. This isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault. There’s no ‘I told you so’ to be said. You came to use when you needed help, we are here now to help that’s all that matters. Okay?” Alexia slowly reached out to wipe the tears from your face. 

“I’m sorry.” That was it. All three of you were holding each other crying. Time seemed to blend into one second. You got stitches in your eyebrow and on your leg, your arm was in fact broken and a cast was put on. The doctor seemed to talk and talk, none of the words making any sense. It was until you saw the two police officers standing outside that you seemed to snap out of it. 

The doctor left the room, seemingly to talk to the police officers and give them a run down. Olga noticed how on edge you were very quickly. 

“Hey, neña, they are only here to ask what happened okay? You aren’t in any trouble.” 

You stood up quickly, grabbing the bag with your blood stained clothes, “no I need to go. This was a mistake.” 

“Go where pequena?” 

“They are going to take me away! I don’t have anywhere to live Alexia! Papi left. He got rid of the house. Mami is dead. I have no where so I’m going to leave before they can take me.” 

“Neña no.” Olga moved to block the door. She is small. You could take her, you thought. “You’re staying with us. They aren’t going to take you because you have a home, with us. You will stay as long as needed.” 

Alexia and Olga hadn’t exactly had the conversation about it, but they both seemed to be able to read each other’s minds. They were going to take care of you, love you like your parents should have. Sure you’re 16, almost an adult. But everyone needs a parental figure, no matter the age. 

“No. You two have your own life, I’m not your responsibility. I can take care of myself, I have been for years.” 

“But you can’t neña. You can’t get an apartment, or a phone plan, or your drivers licence. If you’ll let us, we will take care of you.” You were considering it, really considering it. Having a proper bed, proper meals, somewhere safe? It sounded like heaven. 

“It won’t be easy pequena, it’ll be hard. For all of us. We’ll have to learn to trust each other, and learn how to live with each other but it’ll be worth it. You can decorate the room however you want, we will buy you whatever you need.” 

Before the could continue, the police came in. It took a while to answer all their questions. You could see Alexia and Olga holding hands tightly, wincing slightly when you go into detail. 

“What about my school bag? It has all my school stuff and my laptop?” 

“We will look for it, but there’s no promises it’ll be found. Do you have somewhere safe to stay?” 

“With Alexia and Olga.” You could visibly feel the tension leave both the women. The officers asked Alexia and Olga to step out with them to talk, you took a few moments to gather your thoughts. How had things changed so much. You were just a kid, yet you were forced to look after yourself like you were an adult. You wanted to be vulnerable, to have someone take care of you. Sometimes all we need is a little love. 

Maybe in time, things would get better.