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yamumsyadadd · 2 months ago

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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.

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frenchvanilla-mase · 6 months ago

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fans are assholes | r. dias

summary: fans compare your pregnancy to fellow wags, leaving you to feel not so good.

notes: as requested! i don’t think i specified that it was twins but it still works. dad!ruben has to be my fav genre 🤪 i hope you all enjoy, some very cute at moments 💘 let me know what you all think! <3

IT WAS MATCH DAY, and although you were feeling rough like you had done the last 7 months, you had promised your fiancé you would make it to today’s knockout game rather than watching from home. he wanted you to support from the stadium, but he also wanted to get you out of the house too.

you were 32 weeks along and feeling very heavily pregnant.

yeah, it’s all fun and games when dating a tall man until you have to grow his unnecessarily large children.

all you wanted to do was lie down and moan this entire trimester, having nothing but a hard time with this one you were growing. you’d had every bad symptom imaginable, from the nonstop sickness and heartburn, to back and hip pain, difficulty sleeping and sore boobs, and now in the final stages you were experiencing braxton hicks, so yeah - all you did want was to lie down and whine. more than ever, you just wanted to stay in the comfort of your own home and nest.

“—you’re not even nesting though! you’re sitting here watching tv all day! get up and get ready!” rúben had said to you just yesterday morning after you’d told him you were too busy nesting to grab a coffee with him before training.

“mama, i think you should go tomorrrow . .” another sweet voice said from the sofa, glancing sympathetically in your direction.

your sweet boy, elias, didn’t want to offend you and make you feel like a slob, but he really wanted you both to go to his papa’s games. with school, you didn’t allow him to go to any late night matches which were always the majority, but tomorrow’s kickoff was 3:30pm and when he pitched the idea, you felt awful for feeling like you’d deprived him of some fun memories.

you really didn’t want to go, but your baby boy deserved it. he’d been working so hard in the last weeks of school and rúben would agree that you needed to take him - he wanted you both there just as much but he also knew not to tell a pregnant woman what to do - he wasn’t the one carrying an 8lb baby around in all summer.

“you nearly ready, baby?!” you called from your room, trying your best to look acceptable for today’s outing. you couldn’t remember the last time you’d done your makeup and styled your hair so neatly, baby dias was really kicking your butt that you hardly had any energy after a shower, let alone doing your makeup and hair.

you really needed them out so you could go back to your old self.

you didn’t remember pregnancy being this hard with eli. with him, you were able to get through the rest of school with him growing in your belly! taking notes and listening in class. sure, you had sickness and a sore back but that was really only at the start and at the end. given, you were younger and full of energy.

eli came along in the last of your teen years but you wouldn’t change anything for the world, same with rúben. he blamed that baby boy for being the reason he pushed himself so hard to get where he was today. he was such an easy pregnancy, and an easy kid.

being honest, you felt more unprepared for this new baby as a grown adult than you did as a teenager back in 2016.

with a few thuds across the landing and a solid jump at your bedroom door, you turned to see your 8-year-old all ready holding two thumbs up. with a man city kit on and trainers, he looked like rúben more than ever. seriously, if you got a photo of rúben back then, it was like looking at eli with a slightly different haircut. it scared you so much. “ready!”

traffic was always bad no matter what time you left, but you got there in one piece and already left eli with one of your closest friends and bernardo’s wife, ines, while you had to run to the bathroom even after such a short journey. jeans were longgg out of the equation so you’d gone with some loose, white trousers to go with the blue football shirt, hoping they didn’t wrinkle too much but still looked good with the outfit. “you are glowing!”

“no, it’s probably just my highlighter,” you pointed to your cheekbone as ines laughed cheerfully.

“no! you look amazing, what are you talking about?! i have missed you!” she couldn’t help but hug you again. “you’re ready to pop!”

she felt your bump and you huffed a sigh, pulling your sunglasses down, “i know, it feels like it.”

you didn’t really like being out this far along, not because you were afraid, but you were at that stage were you were starting to feel gross. like, you looked like a whale no matter what you wore or styled yourself to look like. realistically – you were one of the most beautiful pregnant women the internet had saw. truly, you may have felt like an elephant, but you were still posted on WAG accounts, getting shared by millions of women who begged they could only look as good as you when pregnant or better - envied you for still looking so hot while suffering the struggles of pregnancy.

how?! 😭❤️

life’s not fair!!!! 😫

what’s her secret?!!! 😍😭🙏🏼

but you could have gotten a thousand comments like that . . but all it took was the one bad one.

fucking hell, keep her inside 😂🫣

who is that??

🤣🤣🤣🤮🤮

a lot of the time you didn’t care because you knew how the internet worked, and you know the majority were sad-little-pathetic-football-fan men. they barely impacted you.

when it was women on the other hand . . .

“i just can’t believe one woman would say that to another woman,” you tilted your phone to show ines the replies. “what happened to the whole ‘girls help girls?’” you had to put your phone down before you ended up on a gossip page for arguing with people in your comment section.

“it’s always down to jealousy, babe. they hate you ‘cause they ain’t you,” she pointed, the same thing you had told her when she got her first negative comment, and you smiled at her attempt of making you feel better. she was such a good friend.

the internet was a weird place. your life was a weird place, you didn’t think there’d be a day people hated you for simply being with a person. you found it weird paparazzi followed you around when rúben was the famous one. you found it weird there were accounts dedicated to you when you didn’t do anything. it caught you off seeing people notice every little thing about you or knew things you forgot you’d explained. it did add a little bit of pressure knowing you were being watched and most likely compared to other beautiful WAGS. you’d be lying if you didn’t say you’d put on makeup in fear you’d be posted all over those news articles and WAG accounts.

you forgot how stressed matches made you until kickoff, two minutes in and already overthinking how this would go down. rúben had your heart fluttering nontheless with how he ran up and down the pitch, giving orders all sweaty and even repping the captain band for a bit. it made you feel real good about your baby daddy.

“come on, pa!” your son would shout when a bit of a ruffle would occur, his father speaking passionately to the ref with frustrating hand movements.

the halftime whistle blew and you let out a breath, fanning yourself as your body relaxed for a small moment. 0-0. “ma, i need to go to the bathroom.”

“me too, let’s go!”

perks of dating a footballer? renting out their own box for friends and family - including the private bathroom. no queues around hereee.

walking through the rows and steps, you couldn’t help but feel eyes pinned to you. ines would tell you because you’re a WAG of a player (you regret ever educating her on that term) but really you felt like it was because you looked like a whale making her way through the stands.

eli convinced you to do a lap of the stadium just once to ‘stretch your legs’ when really it was something he always liked to do as he believed it ‘made halftime pass quicker’. so hobbling around with few staff members recognising the kid (or rather seeing the clear evidence he was a mini rúben) , you strolled around the packed building, trying to squeeze past football fans, getting stopped once for a picture.

“thank you so much!”

“no worries at all,” you waved to the two girls, shooting them your kindest smile. they were so lovely, and even complimented you for ‘pulling off pregnancy so well’.

“you’re sLayiNg” eli mocked them, taking your hand.

“shut up,” you tutted. you appreciated being told you were still slaying.

“matt!”

the 8-year-old suddenly bolted to a familair security guard in a neon vest who was delighted to see the boy. “my man!”

you didn’t bother rushing over, you were out of breath as it was and decided to just lean on the wall while elias got his quick catch up, waving at matt instead. halftime was almost over. you should be heading back now.

“—not the best one though.”

“—no, sasha is definitely the best wag.”

i swear, the word ‘wag’ triggers you like nothing else.

you tried not to look around, but to your left, you could make out two bodies mingling with each other. both wearing light blue tops with stylish jeans and trainers, the two girls waiting outside the bathroom, trying to talk quietly between then in a mumbled manner.

you were a mum - you had mastered your hearing to hear the grass grow.

“–but sasha’s not pregnant?”

“–but if she was, she’d have a cute bump, not . . ”

their silence had you believe they’d glance in your direction, and it took every bone in your body not to stare dead on at them with a smile to let them know you heard every word - but you didn’t. you played oblivious and stayed watching eli, a forced sweet smile on your lips.

“–foden’s girl always has a cute little bump too!”

“–oh my god, yes. she’s stunning.”

“–he’s stunning too, to be fair.”

“eli, come on son!” you wanted to bang your head on the wall not wanting to endure the conversation anymore. now you’d tune in, you couldn’t tune out.

“–ok. bye matt! see you later,” he didn’t waste a second to return to you. “see you soon, buddy!”

you waved at matt and led him through the crowds, not meaning to hold his hand so tight until he pointed it out. “ow, ma, you’re hurting me.”

“sorry baby.” you didn’t sound sorry but you felt utterly hot and bothered. and not in the good way.

for some unreasonable reason, a small line of carts drove through the halls, and you stood against the wall as they passed by, holding your son by his shoulders. you could hear a small utter of whispers from your side but refused to turn your head. you really needed to fucking sit down.

“—dias’ girl! look at the size of her!”

“–rob that’s so mean! she’s pregnant!”

“WOW!” eli stole your attention as he almost stepped out in front of a last minute one zooming by. you smiled, and quickly manoeuvred him on your way.

“keep going, keep going,” you shuffled behind him in the stands, but stopped amidst a waiting line as someone caused hassle. your foot kicked something. “oh i’m so sorry!”

you accidentally tapped your foot to a lady’s handbag, but she smiled and waved you off. “you’re alright, don’t worry!” shortly adding, “i’m not surprised!” glancing to your belly.

it wasn’t malicious, but it was about to be the last straw of some floodgates. “ha! i know . . I’m like a whale.”

“how far along are you?” her friend asked.

“about 7-8 months,” you smiled sweetly, ignoring the fact they didn’t assure you that you didn’t look like a whale. thanks.

“oh wow!”

“i know,” you fake laughed. why wasn’t this line moving?

“is it twins or just the one?”

you tried to stop your eye twitching. who in the right kind said that?! was that . . a backhanded compliment?! what that even a compliment?! or was she genuinely asking in a stupid and nosey manner? “no, but it feels like it,” you fake laughed, and they did too. twats.

“oh my! you’re so big!”

“he or she will be a big boy or girl,” the other corrected with her pint in hand, knowing her friend’s words had just flown out of her mouth.

“yeah . .” you were done with this conversation but you didn’t dare be rude. thankfully, the line moved, and they waved goodbye. “congratulations!”

“thank you!” you replied, turning back around, mouthing absolute knobheads.

“mum, i don’t think you’re a whale,” eli’s hand patted your own that rested on his shoulder, bringing you back down to earth.

your heart thumped and although he didn’t look at you, your heart melted to a puddle as you squeezed his shoulders and ruffled his hair, knowing you’d embarrass him with a kiss. “thank you baby. you’re always to sweet to me.”

and he was. you actually . . wanted to cry. shock.

“hey!” ines greeted. “where’d you guys go?”

you only shook your head and nodded to you son who was standing again, ready and recharged for more yelling. you felt ines squeeze your hand and you looked at her, “are you ok? you look . .”

“yeah, i’m fine,” you dabbed your eyes and put your sunglasses back on. “just . . stupid stuff, and then e said something really sweet and i just,” you held your heart which made her laugh and reassure her for the time being. “ok, but . . you can tell me, y’know?”

“just being emotional,” you said the obvious, making her laugh as you leaned into her for support.

you would tell her later, but right now, you were going to use the rest of the game as your excuse to start screaming.

the game ended on a win. you saw rúben briefly when the players walked around and applauded, and eli mirrored his excitement and happiness, waving and calling to him as he spotted you guys. he was ecstatic you could make it.

it was after 6 by the time you got home and settled. you were about to order food when you second guess your options, today’s events replaying in your mind:

look at the size of her!

sasha would have a cute bump.

you’re so big!

you knew you were pregnant but there were far nicer things to say to a pregnant lady. what a bunch of assholes.

instead, you cooked some carbs up for eli and made yourself a seperate dinner, feeling the need to watch what you were eating now - you’d be giving birth soon and all those pregnancy cravings didn’t just leave when the baby came. you weren’t silly - you weren’t going to deprive yourself of food, but maybe they had a point - why wasn’t your bump considered cute? was it hard to tell you were pregnant? what were you doing differently?

you were on the verge of calling sasha and asking her what she put in her green smoothies when the door opened.

“meu amor?”

“in here champ,”

something rúben didn’t expect to see what you lying on the couch with a salad balanced on your bump, and you munching away like it was a 5-star dish. “what’s this about . . ?” he smiled sceptically, dropping his bag to the floor.

“what’s what?”

“that.” he nodded to your plate.

you shrugged. “took a notion for it.”

“for . . a salad?” he clarified, looking down at you, entertained in some sense.

your craving for the last 5 months had been anything with chocolate frosting on it. rúben had watched you talk yourself out of buying a tub of it on its own because you knew if was weird and would have to bake go use it.

“yeah.”

to be fair, the salad was tasty, and you were enjoying it but . . at 7 months pregnant? rúben tilted his head. “where’s eli?”

“is his room.”

“he had salad too?”

“he had pasta and garlic bread.”

now he knew something was up. you? not eating garlic bread? italian in general?

someone had said something to you.

he looked at you concerningly, but he was too afraid to ruin the peaceful moment. you seemed calm. he had won a game and you were in a good mood today. baby boy or girl mustn’t be giving you too much trouble so that was a win in itself. so he just leaned down and kissed you lovingly. “hi.”

“hi,” you smiled, pecking him three more times before he rose again. “well done today.”

“thank you,” his hand touched your belly for about two seconds before you swept it off smoothly with your own, squeezing it instead. you smiled up at him again, “love you.”

he kissed you again trying to hide his confusion – but something was up. you were being odd. “love you too.”

and he left and headed for eli’s room, leaving you to let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding before slouching again and continuing with your dinner.

the rest of that evening, rúben was correct. you weren’t yourself.

your mind was somewhere else, and your head wasn’t out of your phone. constantly scrolling, you had overanalysed every picture captured of you today and tried not to nitpick. reading comments. comparing yourself. he wondered what you were doing.

but everyone else did have small bumps. everyone’s looked so cute. they didn’t use pregnancy as an excuse to eat whatever they wanted or slack with self-care. they still wore tight clothing. they still looked gorgeous. you began to compare yourself to all these other wives and girlfriends on the page, wondering how on earth they looked that good.

ummmm, ‘cause maybe they’re 12 weeks along and you’re triple that?

the next morning, rúben kissed you in the kitchen before leaving. “what’s that?”

“what?”

“that,” he nodded to the drink in your hand.

“a smoothie?”

“for breakfast?”

“well yeah,” you furrowed your brows, and he immediately shook his head, pulling that judgemental, disapproving look you sometimes wanted to punch. “no, no, come on, don’t be silly, now,” he almost laughed, “you need to eat something proper.”

“it’s a smoothie, it has everything i need in it?”

“y/n, make something to eat. you’re almost 8 months pregnant for crying out loud,” he looked at you seriously. he didn’t want to sound like he was scolding you or making you feel stupid but you knew he was worried about the lack.

overprotective rúben had always been a constant in your relationship but when you were pregnant — phew, “you got my baby in there.”

“–and he or she is looked after, it’s a healthy drink—”

he took it from your hand and kissed your cheek in the process, taking it with him to training with a smirk, “stop being lazy and cook.”

you were furious. you were actually annoyed that he had taken the drink himself and didn’t find it funny. he kissed eli’s head and the door closed, and you were left highly irritated.

you couldn’t see eli shrink, but he did, looking wide-eyed at the table as he considered his dad a brave brave man in that moment to do that to you - considering the look of your face.

and as a pregnant woman with her emotional struggling to stay in check - you lost it as they all blended together once eli was dropped off at school, sitting in a car park of a café you regretted going too now that you sat with your decaf latte and triple-choc muffin. the frustration quickly turned to tears as you had a moment, eyes in your hands, thinking over everything the last couple days.

yes you were pregnant, but was there a need to be that big? were you even that big compared to others? were you really that bad to look at? that unflattering? did it even looking like you were pregnant? the loose clothing probably didn’t help, but who wanted to wear tight clothing? pregnancy was hard - it was hard to glamourise it all the time!

you’d never cried over looking bad the first time you were pregnant, maybe once or twice when a pair of jeans didn’t fit or you couldn’t reach your shoelaces, but never over the way you felt about yourself. you actually were starting to feel disgusting, and it was embarrassing because you let randomers make you feel this way!

. . and then the pathetic-ness turned into anger because why were people such assholes?! how can they not keep an opinion to themselves?! making you feel bad about your baby!

. . and then the anger turned to guilt because your sweet little baby was just trying to grow and be healthy and you were upset over it. tears again.

you didn’t know how to fix it. the damage was already done, you had a month left, there was no going back now with salads and smoothies, you yanked your paper bag with your muffin off the floor, eating your money’s worth. rúben subconsciously popped into your head as he was probably eating some fruit salad or nutritious sandwich at this time.

oh rúben. you wished he was here but you also knew you wouldn’t want him near you at the minute, not when you weren’t feeling yourself and you had people in your comments telling you he was on his way of replacing you.

he would call you stupid, but rúben just wouldn’t understand. he wouldn’t get being on the other side, the built in competition that automatically comes with being a woman, more than ever with this lifestyle he had given you. one where you’re compared left right and centre with a certain standard to achieve.

you bet every handbag you owned, he’d screw his face up and go ‘are you serious’ if you told him your issue. he knew you were above anyone commenting stupid things on your posts and found it immature of you in a way if you did take those things to heart - i mean they were nobodies! jealous nobodies! but that’s easy for him to say, his comments are flooded with never ending support, guys praising him for his talent, physique and hard work and most girls telling him to hurry up and leave you. spamming with flame and tongue emojis, thirsting over your man just the way you did, only boosting his ego more which rúben did not need.

so you just felt silly, and picked at your muffin, accepting your were going to be a whale wag.

you felt like a slob when you got back home, staying on the couch after cleaning, and then crying except you were watching a movie to blame it on that.

you still couldn’t get comments out of your head, i mean what was an ‘expired wag?!’ or a ‘busted oven?!’ what did that mean? and why always the skull emojis?!

scrolling once again through photos of comparison, you scrolled onto a beautiful pic of your beautiful bestie, ines, and straight away phoned her. “hey.”

“hey! what’s up! what’s going on? why do you sound you out of breath?”

“why do you think?” you laughed.

“girl are you crying again?!”

and you started talking. you had to get things off your chest and you needed ines to make you feel better, to assure you and let you rant, and she happily did, after all, you’d always been there when she was having a moment.

“–what did rúben say?”

“nothing, i haven’t told him anything. he’ll just tell me i’m being ridiculous.”

“he won’t!”

“ines, he would, he’s not like bernardo. rúben’s harsh!”

“so are you! which is why i can’t believe you’re still crying over this!”

he was harsh in the good way, in the same way you were. you were both practical. real. realistic. you picked each other up and told each off when you were being ridiculous. pulled each other out their asses. brought you back down to earth.

but you just needed comforted at this current moment by your girl.

as you continued to chat and laugh more than you thought, the front door opened without your acknowledgment and rubes stepped through. freshly showered after a long morning of training, he instantly heard your voice rambling over the phone. he took notice of the tissue also crumpled on the floor by the door (you’d been carelessly tossing them for dramatic effect) and paused after he thought he’d heard a sad sniffle. he closed the door quietly and crept near the living room.

“i can’t help it, i do just feel . . blegh,” you felt like you were being ridiculous but you couldn’t help it. “like, why does everyone keep making a big fuss about it? am i really that massively huge or am i just not liked?”

he heard another woman’s laughter on your phone and recognised her as soon as she began talking to you, “y/n, i promise no one is making a fuss of it, it probably just seems in your face all the time because you keep going back to check. i promise the world is not broadcasting you,” ines chuckled sweetly, which followed your sad laugh also.

“well the wag world does!”

“y/n!” she laughed, “you’re overthinking it. i promise you have nothing to worry about. the only person who’s opinion should matter to you is rúben’s and everybody knows he has you on a pedestal!” rúben found himself smiling. he’d always been a fan of ines. “he’s called you his wife since you came to manchester! he’s always been proud to show you off, you look good - you look amazing! people are just saying that stuff about you to make themselves feel better.”

“mm, i guess,” you sniffed, holding your forehead. “i don’t know, it’s just been getting to me . . and i’m not saying to rúben because he’ll tell me i’m being stupid. i wouldn’t be surprised if he was leaving an hour earlier in the mornings to get away from me. it’s not like my looks can make up for my psycho-ness anymore,” you joked.

“y/n!” she tried not to laugh. “though, pregnancy psycho-ness is definitely real.”

it is, rúben mentally agreed also, though his heart still sank further as he heard you talk about yourself in such ways. he didn’t want to call you ridiculous but come on, you were pregnant! didn’t they all count as compliments to a pregnant lady?!

“it is,” you let out a sigh, “i wouldn’t want to be around me either, just this big angry rhino walking around the house,” you laughed together, “he goes to a paris event on friday anyway, he’ll get a break and have plenty of french models to—”

a clear of a throat had you whipping your head to the door, seeing rúben’s hard stare. your mouth went dry. “uhhh, ines i’ll call you back.”

you felt bad hanging up as she was speaking back, too shocked you’d been heard rambling for the last couple minutes. or probably longer! how long had he been standing there?!

“listen—”

“french models?! french models, y/n.”

“rúben, it’s not in context—”

“oh i heard the context, i heard everything,” he came in the room, not one spot of happiness found on his face. he was fuming. you could tell, and disappointed too, you felt like eli getting told off by him, throwing yourself back into the couch as he stood with that gruff, intimidating look, hands shoved in his pockets.

“you don’t get it—” you could already feel the tears welling in your eyes, though a pit of frustration was brewing in your chest hot and fast. this was going one of two ways.

“what don’t i get? you don’t tell me what’s wrong when i ask you!”

“‘cause you wouldn’t understand!”

“ok but what i do understand is my wife accusing me of what? getting to pick which ‘french model’ i want to take home next week?”

now your face fell flat, realising how ridiculous and cruel that sounded. you shouldn’t accuse him of that kind of stuff.

“rubes, i just—” your mouth felt dry again. tears brimming again, you could feel how hot they were. the words were on the tip of your tongue but you didn’t know how they were gonna come out.

“what is it? tell me,” he pushed, eager for you to actually get out what you wanted to say so he could help sort it. “i’m here to listen.”

and you did, you unleashed it all. “people are assholes. your fans are assholes. i’m sorry but i cannot believe the stuff people have no issue saying to other people - pregnant people at that! as if the 9 months aren’t hard enough, i have this mob of men and women on my back, judging and critiquing my every outting. i can’t do it anymore, it’s actually ruining whatever self-confidence i have left!” the tears were streaming as you began your rant, choking down sobs as you moved your hands, a fury behind all the sadness.

rúben crouched down, wanting to be nearer as you let it all out. “every day, every hour, i have someone online, reminding me off how big i am, how unflattering my paparazzi pic is, how whale-like i am! how hard it’s gonna be to shift this baby weight! i’m getting put in competition with every other pregnant wife and girlfriend of your teammate and showed how much better they pull it off! how gorgeous they look all the time! how their bumps are ‘cute’ and small and ‘suits them.’ i heard it myself at your game the other day! it’s like they’ve never seen an un-photoshopped pregnant woman before!” you met his eyes, realising you were probably being silly and that there were bigger problems in the world. “i just feel disgusting, rúben. i never felt like this with eli, i was in this perfect little bubble but this time so different. i don’t want to leave the house when i know a monstrosity of photos are getting taken of me, pointing out every flaw. i don’t have a cute, small bump! i do look like a whale! i can’t dress sexy! and i get what people are saying when they say it’ll be a bit before you can look at me again ‘cause god knows—”

“shh,” he quickly silenced you, placing a finger to your lips. his brows were furrowed as yours did, fed up of hearing you ramble about all the bad things about yourself. he felt pain in a way. he just couldn’t believe you actually thought these things about yourself. “wha— . . . are you being serious?”

“OH MY GOD!” you threw your arms up. see!

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, meu amor,” his big hands softly caressed your legs in front of him, along your smooth thighs to stop you from exploding again, “i’m sorry. it’s just . . i . . it annoys me that you let these things get to you, these random, strange people that you don’t even know. you take their opinion over mine. so mine doesn’t matter, it doesn’t count?” he looked you deeply in the eye, “how does that make sense? explain that to me.”

your head hit the cushion as you groaned but rúben held your hands comfortingly. he didn’t want to make you feel stupid, but he wanted to hear your thought process. “to me, it’s like . . you have the choice of walking into a room full of all these people who hate you, and you know the hate you, after being in one full of people you love . . and you go into the hateful one and are surprised that all these people are saying all these bad things about you when you could have just left it alone and focused on the lovely ones - from people who matter to you! who are actually in your life! do you understand?”

you nodded along, entranced by his eyes and how they were able to ground you alone. “you know that i think you’re the best thing in the world. you know i would love you if—” he thought off the top of his head, “you had 10 extra toes. a third eye. if you had a cow nose. elf ears!” your hair slipped silkily through his fingers, “you know i think you’re the most beautiful woman ever even dressed in a trash bag. i would still love you if you did wear trash bags. if you had a cow nose. if you weighed the same as a cow. if you weighed the same as a baby cow,” you broke a chuckle at that. “i’ve loved you through our ugly teen years, when i shaved my hair and your eyebrows were stick thin,” you laughed more as he let out a breath of relief, “i loved you when with vomit down your shirt and your hair dyed that weird colour—”

“rúbennn . .”

“what? and i loved you when you had eli in your stomach, and he was big baby,” his hand touched your belly, moving it in the same motion he always did because that’s when he got to feel the small kicks of this baby dias. “i loved you even more even when i saw how he came out,” he shot you a wildered look.

you facepalmed, dragging your hand down dreadfully at the thought of having to relive that moment all over again in over a months time.

his features turned as his thoughts turned sour, “why are you letting stupid fucking people affect you?”

“i don’t know . . i guess ‘cause so many people are saying it i . . it must be true to some extent—”

“y/n—”

“seriously, rúben. i don’t have a cute, small bump. ines and rebecca are always such sweet—”

“Y/N! have you SEEN the size of bernardo and phil next to me! is it any wonder they’re small! their child comes out the same size as them!” his hand shot out with passion.

now your head was in your hand with muffled laughter, caught off guard by his statement. “seriously! seriously, now you’re supposed to be the smart one,” he tried to look at you, that loving smile shining your way as his heart sang at the sound of you laughter. “you’re shocked that me, that we, have big babies . . that ines has a much smaller bump than you . . are you serious? that rebecca has a smaller bump than you? rebecca, phil and elway stacked on top of each other wouldn’t even reach the height of me!”

“rúben,” you laughed, feeling an actual blush of embarrassment coat your face at how stupid he’d made you feel, but in a good way.

he was so right. what were you thinking?

“i’m like, the biggest guy on the team! sorry i didn’t realise that was gonna be a problem for you,” you lightly hit his shoulder to wrap up the sarcasm, still giggling. he looked at you from the floor, his hands still on you, on your leg on bump — the bump that he did make look small next to his hand. “and please remember you’re a month away from giving birth, you’re supposed to be a healthy size. and i been going to training an hour earlier ‘cause i know when this one comes along, i’ll not want to go as much and i’ll want to stay with you both. i’ll start working on my dad bod . .” he felt the small, subtle movement happening inside, but he could feel them if he kept still enough.

“you’d look good with both.” you rolled your eyes.

“and you’d still look better. y/n, you’re not a whale. please stop saying that,” he finally crept to his feet, climbing on the couch on top of you, leaning his arm behind your head. “you are the most beautiful-est woman to me and no-one, NO-ONE can convince me otherwise. you’re my standard of perfect, of gorgeous and sexy and all the rest of it. i’ve found you sexy before this baby, during this baby, and after this baby — i still get comments of people telling me how ugly i look when you’re next to me! you bring my value down!”

his arm wrapped around your neck while the other threw itself over your bump, shifting and snuggling into the sofa more comfortingly, you relaxed alongside him, the tears no trickling down but with good reason behind them as you were shocked to find your love growing even more for rúben when you thought it was impossible. “i don’t know what comments you’re seeing because all i see are the ones calling you a milf, and it takes too much time to try and report them all.”

you held his hand at your shoulder, his lips kissing your cheek repeatedly, over and over again. you knew how much he loved you. “yeah, you’re right. fans are just . . assholes.”

“fans are assholes,” he agreed, stroking your cheekbone, “. . don’t listen to them. you think i listen to everything they say about me?” he perked a brow.

sometimes! you wanted to say but knew better. it was rhetorical question, and you knew his sweet intentions.

“alright? i don’t so why should you? you’re hot stuff babe,” he looked at the side of your face, inspecting every little freckle and faint scar, he just wanted to never stop kissing you. “i love you the way you are. eli loves you for the way you are, and this baby,” he rubbed circles on your belly, “he or she is going to be so unbelievably lucky when they see who they have as their mam. i know it’s not the smallest bump but i think it’s the cutest i’ve ever saw, with my baby girl or boy in there,” he kissed the size of your stomach. he grew more and more excited each day as he got a day closer to meeting who was inside. he couldn’t wait. “. . who they get their good looks from and skill and personality - well, i mean i would like to take some credit for the both of those ‘cause i mean their daddy is pretty c—”

you playfully jabbed his side, making him laugh. “yeah, he’s the hottest one on the field,” you glanced at him, kissing his cheek.

one thing about him, he’d always blessed you with beautiful children.

“yeah, and their mum is coolest one at the school pick up,” his lips trailed along your cheek to your jaw, the slight scruff of his beard tickling you. “you’re the biggest milf to walk the planet–”

“rúbennn,” you chuckled, blushing at his words whilst trying to push him away.

“i’m serious,” he proceeded, peppering kissed down your neck, “and she’s coming to paris with me for the weekend so she can outshine me like she does at every event she comes to.”

you laughed at that, smiling dreamily as he proceeding to love on you.

“and eli?”

“elias gets to stay with his favourite uncle who owes a favour,” he winked.

“hmm. ok.”

“and i’ll give her a reason to cry if she starts thinking like that again,” he whispered in your ear.

your heart slipped a beat. “oh yeah?”

“ohh yeahhh,” he nodded, standing to his feet, not before a loud ‘smack’ echoed the room as he mimicked what your poor backside would get if you kept up that kind of behaviour. “see you upstairs, mama.”

you blew your hair from your face, heart thumping, your hands slowly crept up to your adorable little bump where you caressed it gently as he headed for upstairs, whispering softly, “you are soo lucky he’s your papai.”

your heart raced as he peeled his hoodie off, back muscles staring right at you as he headed for your room, you felt your insides begin to sizzle.

— but you were even luckier he was your husband.

#ruben dias #ruben dias x reader #rúben dias #ruben dias fic #ruben dias fanfic #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias fluff #ruben dias x y/n #ruben dias x you #ruben dias oneshot #dad!ruben #football imagine #footballer fanfic #football fanfic #footballer imagine #footballer oneshot #man city #manchester city

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alotofpockets · 2 months ago

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Found Family | Leah Williamson x Barca!Reader & Alexia Putellas x Best Friend!Reader

Where Leah comes support you at the Champions League final, and you bring her to celebrate with your found family

Warnings: sexist father, mention of parent dying

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.5k

-----

You were pacing the halls of the Putellas home where you spent most of your teenage years. Tonight was the Champions League final, and your nerves were only partly about the game. You were also hoping that Leah, your girlfriend, would arrive in time to support you. Eli’s voice interrupted your anxious steps. “She’ll be here, Mija.” Her gentle smile was reassuring, she always knew just what to say.

The door opened and you hoped it was Leah, but your face fell when you saw it was just Alexia. “Don’t look so disappointed to see me.” Alexia teased. “Sorry, I thought you were Leah. You know I’m always happy to see you, Ale.” You pull your best friend in for a hug.

Before you could pull away, the door opened again. This time it was Leah. You quickly released Alexia and ran to Leah, throwing yourself into her arms. “You’re here!”

Alexia mumbles a quick, “Happy to see me, my ass.” With a playful roll of her eyes before she walks off to find her mom.

“You’re here!” You say, ignoring Alexia’s dramatic exit. “Of course, I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” Tonight was a big night, and you were happy to have your girlfriend here to support you. She would support you no matter where she was, but having her be in the stadium while you would be playing would be amazing. It especially meant a lot because you knew how hard it had been on her that Arsenal didn’t make it into the Champions League competition this year.

It had become a tradition to gather at the Putellas household before important games, whenever you could. Being here was grounding, and a reminder of all you had been through to reach this point. The Putellas family practically raised you since you were thirteen when you and your mom had moved from England to Spain so you could join the Barcelona Academy.

You still remember meeting Alexia on your first day. She quickly became your best friend, and soon after, you found a second home here.

Your parents got divorced when you were still young, and while your mom was your biggest supporter, your dad disapproved of your football dreams. He didn’t want anything to do with you playing, always letting you know that football wasn’t for girls. When the opportunity came to train at the Barcelona Academy, your father gave you an ultimatum: him or going to Barcelona.

It hurt that he didn’t support your dreams, but your mom stepped in. “It’s your choice, and I’ll support you no matter what. But if you choose Barcelona, know I’ve already found a place for us. We can do this, just you and me.” Her encouragement made you feel safe enough to go for your dreams and choose Barcelona. The choice had brought you to this moment, playing for Barcelona and the Lionesses.

Eli and your mom had bonded quickly, much like you and Alexia. Moving to a new country was as much a fresh start for her as it was for you, and you had always been grateful for her support.

When she passed away suddenly a few years later, the Putellas family didn’t hesitate to take you in. It was a hard time, but you had each other. They understood what you were going through very well, as they had lost Jaume the year before.

Now, with Leah’s hand in yours, you walked down the hall towards the kitchen, passing the picture frames that told the story of the Putellas family.

There were photos of you and Alexia holding your first trophy at the Academy, Alexia and Alba dressed up as princesses as kids, and Alexia on her Spain debut. You let your eyes roam over the memories. Your England debut, Alba at graduation, Elia and Jaume’s wedding, Alexia winning her first Ballon D’or, and you, Leah, Alexia, Olga, and Alba on holiday last year.

One picture in particular caught your eye, a photo of you and your mom, her face beaming with pride as she posed with you on your Barcelona debut. “She would be so proud of you.” Leah whispers in your ear as she wraps her arms around you from the back.

“Thank you, Lee. I wish she could be there tonight.” You leaned further into Leah’s embrace. “In a way, she is always with you.” She let her fingertips move over your arm where you had the tattoo you got for your mom. “You’re right.” You smile at the thought of your mom always being with you. “Come on, food is ready.”

Sitting around the dinner table with Leah, Alexia, Alba, Olga, and Eli, did exactly what you hoped it would. A sense of calm fell over you, as everyone was chatting about. Having Leah with you here made you very happy. You saw each other as often as possible with your busy schedules during the season, so often you were sat at this table without her by your side.

“Hey, you’re not gonna wear those tonight, are you?” Pointing to her Arsenal earrings. As strong as your Barca pride was, so was her Arsenal pride. “I will happily wear your Barca jersey, but do not ask me to take these off.” She said with a chuckle, knowing you were just messing around. “Hm only because I love you.”

That evening you sat next to Alexia in the team bus, going over your plan once more before you’d arrive at the stadium. Jona and the team had made today’s game plan. You and Alexia would both sub in later in the game, hoping to give the game a boost if needed at that point.

The match was clearly between the two top teams. Constantly switching on attacks and many tries at goal. It wasn’t until Aitana’s goal in the 63rd minute that you managed to get the lead.

With the goal putting you in the lead, Lyon fought back even harder. Leading by one didn’t feel good enough, you needed a cushion for if they managed to get one in the net. You had been sitting anxiously on the bench every time another Lyon attack was happening, until you and Alexia got the call to start warming up.

The two of you were subbed in on the 83rd minute, and fresh legs was something that was definitely needed during this match. Before stepping onto the field you took a quick look at where you knew your family was sitting. Leah clad in your Barca jersey, Eli with her phone out proudly recording her girls coming on, and Alba and Olga clapping for the both of you.

It wasn’t even a minute later when you got your first touch and were able to trick one of the Lyon defenders, walking yourself to the far corner and looking up to see Alexia running into the box. You didn’t have to think twice of where to send the ball. You look back at the ball and kick it hard, landing exactly where you wanted it to, straight onto Alexia’s head. With one flick of her head, the ball flies into the back of the net.

You kiss your tattoo before lifting your arms in the air in celebration, and chuckle when you see Alexia taking off her shirt and waving it around above her head before she crashes into you, lifting you up and spinning you around. The rest of the girls join in on the hug and Lucy throws Alexia her shirt before the referee shows her a yellow card. You both had to laugh at the moment.

Not long after, the final whistle blew and you had done it again. The Champions League title was yours. You ran to Alexia first, jumping into her arms. “We did it!” She said with tears in her eyes. “We did.” The rest of the team jumped on you, joining in on the hug. Everyone on the pitch as well as on the bench, including staff surrounded you in one big huddle.

While everyone was excitedly jumping around, you pulled Alexia to the side. After every match you took a moment to remember your parents. As you look down at her tattoo for her dad, and then to yours for your mom, you say, “I think they would be really proud of us.” Alexia nods and takes your hand in hers, both looking up and blowing a kiss to the sky. “I know they are.”

Together you run over to the stands where your family was waiting to hug you. Eli helped Olga and Leah over the barrier first. Leah kissed you and then hugged you tight, “I am so proud of you.” You cry happy tears into her chest. “You being here means the world.”

After Leah you share a moment with Eli, Alba, and Olga each. “Alright, you two go celebrate with the girls. We love you very much, and will be at home waiting for you to celebrate some more.”

The love language of the Putellas family was food, so Eli had planned to make lots of food to celebrate the win with the whole family together. You were definitely looking forward to it, but first you had a big party with the team to look forward to.

-----

💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! You can also supporting me by leaving a tip 💗

#leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #barca femeni x reader #barcelona femeni #barca femeni #barca women #fcbfemeni #fcb femení #engwnt #engwnt x reader #lionesses x reader

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sototallynormaliswear · 17 days ago

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Stiles' favorite Christmas tradition is shaking the presents. he can successfully guess what it is 70% of the time, but each present takes roughly 30 minutes before he opens it.

Scott's favorite tradition is making cookies with his family but he can't be unsupervised. once he made brownies so thick they had to be cut with a handsaw. no one knows how it happened.

Derek's favorite tradition used to be sitting by the fire, watching his dad knit some truly ugly sweaters (technically this would take most of the year but his dad got FRANTIC in December) Now though, it's wrapping each gift as a different gift (ie wrapping a watch as a bicycle) and watching stiles go insane about it. Despite his Christmas baby status, Derek never enjoys celebrating his birthday, so everyone makes sure to make it EXTRA embarrassing.

Melissa's tradition is setting up decorations. she doesn't always get Christmas off of work, so she'll try to make it magical without her there. I feel she also has a particular fondness for dumb ornaments, like the Christmas Pickle.

The Sheriff's tradition is teaching a skill to his kids, where they will ask on Christmas day what they want to learn and he does his best to teach them. when Stiles was younger this was things like how to shoot a gun or hang like a bat or (after she'd been diagnosed) how to make Mom happy. Now it's how to get out of handcuffs, how to bandage yourself properly, how to clear someone's (Derek's) name. this year he's also a crash course on how to make a good plan (technically Scott's but he ropes them all into it) and how to knit (Derek's)

Eli's favorite tradition as a tiny little baby is trying to EAT the wrapping paper. this is not a popular tradition.

#teen wolf #stiles stilinski #derek hale #sterek #mieczyslaw stiles stilinski #scott mccall #sheriff stilinski #melissa mccall #eli stilinski hale #eli hale stilinski #eli hale

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k0juki · 8 months ago

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Since u asked for mafia max prompts- max takes revenge on ur father for keeping him away from you for so long. And now they are finally a family together. Just max you and eli, not that you'd have to know how or what happened to your father you're just happy max is such a devoted husband and father.

OMG?! Yes!!!

Mafia!Max Verstappen x fem!reader

Revenge

English is not my first language so feel free to point out any mistakes or errors! Also the picture is not mine! Credit goes to owner!

More mafia!Max here.

Wc: 1457

---

You and Max had a lot to catch up on, not only he wanted to be a good dad, but a loving husband as well. But that has to wait, first things first. The first few days he had spent in your penthouse, he wanted to know what Eli liked and disliked, what is his favorite Disney movies and what food he loves.

He discovered that Eli loves pancakes with homemade strawberry jam. For Max, it was too sweet, but he had made sure that it was always on the shelf, right next to sugar. Next was his favorite movie, Cars. He was really like his father with cars and nobody could change that, but what Eli absolutely didn't like was some itchy clothing and when it was raining. Strange.

And that surprised him, because you love rain and when you live in a place like London where rain is a daily occurrence, he didn't want his little boy to be scared.

That was one of his main reasons why he wanted you back in the Netherlands. Next of his reasons was your father. How he hated that man.

Not only did he have to leave behind the woman he had loved and still do, but he never got to know how Eli slowly grew up, yes he is still pretty small, but he wanted to experience it.

His first steps, he wasn't here. His first words, "mama", he wasn't here either and on his birthdays, again, he wasn't here.

Max knew that it wasn't your fault, he never took it out on you. He knew who's fault it really was. Yes, in some ways it was Max's fault too, but your father had a lot of chances to say anything to him and he didn't say a single word.

He knew what he had to do, even if his choices could have consequences, but he couldn't get over it. He had to do it. By all means necessary. For his son and for you, his love of his life.

Max had a lot of people here in London, one of them was Lando, he was one of the best and Max needed him to watch over you and Eli, as he had some important things to do.

That's what he had said to you, but you knew better. You knew what he was going to do, by just a look in his stormy, blue eyes and you let him to do it.

Of course you knew Lando, you saw him many times before you and Max broke up. He was his good friend, not just a colleague, but truly a good friend, someone that everybody deserves for life.

"I won't be gone for long, Schats." Max said as he took your head in both of his hands and softly kissed your forehead. "I will be back before you know it."

"Be careful Max." You answered, always so worried for him and hugged his waist as he held you. "Do you wanna see Eli before you leave?"

Max knew that Eli was sleeping, it was right after his lunch, but still, it is his son, so Max just nodded his head yes and you took him to his bedroom where he peacefully sleeps.

Max carefully came to his sleeping form, that was holding his stuffed elephant. He got from Max a day before and Max carefully kissed his cheek as not to wake him up. "Love you Eli, I will be right back."

He turned around and softly closed the door. "Lando will be there to watch over you both, before I come back." It wasn't a question, more like a statement.

"Lando? Lando Norris?" You asked and Max nodded. You took Maxs hand and led him to the front door. Just as you were about to say something, there was a knock on the door and Max opened.

"Hey mate, how are you doing?" Lando said happily and pulled Max in a half hug he patted him on his back. Then, as he turned around, he saw you and his never ending smile brightened up more.

"Y/n, love, how are you doing? You look amazing...like always." He said and whispered the last part in your ear as he wrapped you in a full hug. You really missed him.

"Ehmr..." Max growled and spoke as you and Lando let go of each other. "Lando, you know what to do." By that, Max means to keep you and Eli safe, don't let anyone else in and if something, anything happens, call him.

"Of course I do mate." Lando answered.

You took a few steps forward and stood right in front of him. "Be quick, alright?"

"Of course." Max answered and pulled you for a quick kiss on the forehead. "I love you Schats." With that he left.

"So, where's the little smurf?"

---

Meanwhile Max got into the car in which Charles was waiting. Charles wanted to see you too, but he and Max had some killing to do. He made a mental note to visit you later.

Charles was another mafia boss. His territory is in Monaco and everybody knows that he owns every corner there. He and Max are long time friends, since like preschool. Charles knew how important this is to him, so he didn't wasted any time and hopped on the plane to get to him.

"You ready?" Charles asked as Max got into the car. He didn't care enough to buckle himself and started a car.

"I was born ready to kill him." Max informed "Let's go."

As they arrived in front of your fathers house, Max was first to get out of the car and he was also the first to kick the door open. Gun in his hand, he shot everyone who crossed his path.

As he moved to the last door, which he knew was your father's workroom, he opened to see him sitting in his chair, with his back towards Max.

"Your father will be furious when he finds out." He had said, he didn't even try to beg because he knew it was useless, it would only hurt his ego.

"Don't forget that I have a son too, and he won't stop looking for you, till he kills you." Yes, you had an older brother, Mark. What a fucker.

His dislike for him was about as great as for your father. But he was harder to find, not many people knew where he was or what he was doing, that's why you were with Lando right now.

"I think he will understand me."

"You really think that? I guess that you don't know your father very much then, just like your son." He whispered the last part, but loud enough for Max to hear.

That was Max's last straw. He raised the gun and pulled the trigger. The blood was everywhere. Max was breathing heavily, then turned around and without a single word left the room. He needed a shower, knowing that he can't go to you like that, all bloody and sweaty.

"We will stop somewhere, so I can clean myself."

---

When Elijah woke up and came to you, he was all sleepy and confused, he didn't notice that Lando wasn't Max. His new uncle. When he did notice him was as he sat down next to you.

"Eli, this is your uncle Lando. Say hi." He turned to Lando, but then got all shy and climbed in your arms, where he knew it was safe. "C'mon Eli, he's not going to bite."

Eli turned his head to Lando and quietly said, "hi" and then he put his head back to your chest.

"Hi Eli, I heard you like cars?" That got Elijah's attention. Cars? Now he won't stop talking about them.

Just as Elijah got to talk about his car toys and movies he saw, the front door of your penthouse opened and Max walked in. Eli didn't waste any second and ran up from your arms to him. "Daddy!"

"Hey Eli." Max said as he bent down to pick him up. "Were you good for mommy?" Elijah nodded his little head and wrapped his small arms around his neck. It's unbelievable how quickly he got used to Max.

"Well, I guess I'll let you guys be." Lando said as he hugged you for the last time and then left the apartment.

"Are you alright?" You asked Max as he sat down next to you and put Eli between you two.

"Of course." Max smiled a little and put his arm around your back. "I'm just glad I'm home." He finished and tilted his head to give you a soft kiss on the lips.

---

I need more mafia Max prompts!!🩷🫶

Don't copy or translate my work!

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natsvenom · 10 months ago

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Hello! I'm new on your blog and I was wondering if you could do a Derek Hale x reader. Where reader and Derek have a child who is learning how to talk so when the child call for reader they make kissing faces because the child always saw their dad kissing their mom and one day where the pack come to Derek's loft for whatever reason and when the child saw stiles they growl or say wolf ( because they always hear stiles say sourwolf) and when the child see Peter they just hit or try to bite Peter when he takes them in his arms. Just something domestic, a little bit chaotic and fluff please.

Of course! I tried my best with this one, but I'm not really sure how it came out, so let me know if you like it! | @@bakakara666

Snuggles & Snarles | Derek Hale x Reader

Summary: The pack comes over to see your son, Eli, and things get a little chaotic.

Warnings: None! Just fluff <3

Requested: Yes | No

Chaos was not an uncommon visitor in Beacon Hills. Usually, you were used to the common threat of some unknown supernatural creature trying to kill you and your friends. Luckily this time, the only chaos you had to put up with was the babbled attempts of speech from your baby boy, Eli.

The whole pack was gathered at the loft, paying extra attention to Eli. They claimed they had come to see you and Derek, but you both knew the truth. Ever since you two welcomed Eli into your home, the pack had been over almost daily. You couldn’t blame them though, your son was adorable.

Scott and Stiles were sitting on the floor, saying random words to Eli in a baby voice to get him to speak. Eli had stumbled on his feet, toddling over to you, putting his hands in the air for you to pick him up.

“Traitor,” Stiles mumbled, pouting and crossing his arms over his chest like a child. Scott smiled, admiring how much your son had loved you.

“Hi, baby.” You said softly, picking your son up in your arms. Derek kissed your cheek, causing Eli to giggle. He puckered his lips, making kissy faces at the both of you. Scott and Stiles busted out laughing, finding the whole interaction amusing. Peter even smiled a little bit. As much as a pain in the ass Peter could be, he loved you and Derek a lot, and maybe Eli just a little bit more.

Lydia walked over to the both of you sticking her arms out for Eli. He instantly leaned over, going straight into Lydia’s arms, “Aw, do you love your auntie Lyds? I think you do!” Lydia said in a high-pitched baby voice. Derek rolled his eyes playfully, Lydia was probably the biggest baby hog the world would ever see.

You looked around the loft, smiling to yourself. You loved your chaotic little family and you wouldn’t trade any of them for the world. Derek put his arms around you, pulling you into him. It was moments like these that made everything you had all gone through worth it.

Stiles sat down by Lydia on the couch, pinching Eli’s cheeks. Eli growled at him, causing Stiles to throw his hands up defensively, “He started it.” Stiles said. Eli stuck his tongue out, spitting on Stiles’ face. Stiles had a disgusted look on his face, slowly wiping away the saliva.

“Babies… disgusting.” He muttered.

“Aww, are you disgusting? I don’t think so, Stiles is just a grumpy grouch.” Lydia cooed, bouncing Eli in her arms. Stiles rolled his eyes, looking the other way.

“Yeah, don’t be such a sourwolf Stiles.” You teased, remembering all the times Stiles had said that to Derek. He narrowed his eyes at you, giving you the finger. You sent him a playful smile in return.

“Alright, I think someone wants to see their uncle Peter,” Peter said, snatching Eli out of Lydia’s arms. Lydia scoffed, getting up from her place on the couch to chase Peter down for Eli.

Eli started biting and scratching at Peter, “Looks like someone takes after their father a little too much, huh?” Peter joked, referring to the time Derek had killed Peter by slashing his throat. You shook your head, watching as Peter tried to get Eli to quit biting him.

“Exactly, he doesn’t like you. Now hand him over.” Lydia argued, attempting to take Eli back from Peter.

“He likes me better than you.” Peter scoffed, dodging Lydia’s grabby hands.

Lydia gasped, “He does not!” Lydia protested.

“Put him down and see which one of you he walks to,” Scott suggested.

“Fine,” Peter said, setting Eli down in the middle of the room. Lydia and Peter instantly began calling out for Eli, patting their hands on their knees, signaling for Eli to come to them. Eli looked around the room, slightly confused. He started running in Peter’s direction, his arms in the air.

“Yes! I told you—”

Eli ran straight past Peter and up to Derek, “Dada!” Eli said, grabbing onto his dad’s leg. Derek bent down, picking up Eli into his arms. Peter looked back, looking at the baby offended.

“Guess we know who his favorite isn’t.” Derek taunted, sending Peter a smirk.

#imagine #oneshot #derek hale #teen wolf #lydia martin #stiles stilinski #scott mccall #peter hale #derek hale x reader #natsvenom #fluff #eli hale

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eternalsams · 2 months ago

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Scare Me If You Can ⇴ J.Seresin

pairing: Jake Seresin x fem!reader

warning/content: 15+, swearing, sexual tension?, fake blood, fake weapon, scare actress!reader,Jake is a kinky bastard, boner alert

summary: Jake wanted to scare his younger brother by going to the Horror Village, but he ended up being the one scared.

word count: 2.2k

a/n: English isn't my first language so please take that into consideration. I'm so sorry, this isn't as good as last year's, to be honest I don't think I'll ever make as good as last year.

tgm masterlist main masterlist

Jake has always loved Halloween. Since the early age of 5, when his dad told him he could dress up as a pilot, Jake was convinced Halloween was the best holiday ever. He then switched to dressing up as a sexy firefighter when he got into college. He actually slept with multiple girls thanks to that one shirtless firefighter costume. But when he got into the Naval Academy, he didn't have time or the energy to look for a new costume, so he forgot about Halloween for a few years. That until this year, when he managed to get some leave for the holiday, and now he was back in Texas with his family to celebrate the day before the return of the dead.

He only had the time to settle in his old room when his mom told him she was leaving to pick up his younger brother at the train station. Jake smiled and nodded, watching the woman who raised him leave the house. It had been a while since Jake didn't see his brother; with college and deployments, common free times were hard to find. But knowing Elijah would be there for Halloween made it so much better. So he waited patiently until his mom and brother came back, hid behind the door, and listened to them walk up the porch steps, talking about whatever. The door opened on him, and he waited for his mother to walk in before jumping on Elijah, shouting his name to scare him. The younger man cursed as Jake laughed before insulting his older brother. Jake wrapped his arm around his brother's shoulders, still chuckling. "Good to see you, Eli'."

"Come on, boys. Don't start." Their mom lectured them as she made her way to the living room. Elijah pushed his brother back and shoved him away, starting unintentionally a playfight with Jake, who locked his brother's head under his arm. "Boys, please. At least, do that outside." Mother Seresin sighed, her face peaking out from the living room. "Listen to your mother." Their dad's voice rang, and both boys stopped their heckling. "Well, I still need to welcome our young prodigy home!" Jake shoved his brother's shoulder. "If one of us is a prodigy, it's you, Jake." His mom chuckled lightly and Elijah's lips parted in shock. "Ouch, that hurts." He grumbled in fake hurt. "Well, Jake's the one with the nice house next to California beaches." Jake laughed and wrapped his arm around his younger brother's shoulders. "But we're very proud of you for getting into college, Elijah." Both Seresin parents laughed at the boys' banter, and the younger Seresin pouted. "Fuck off."

"Hey, watch your language in my house!" Their mom intervened before she walked up to them with a flyer. "Why don't you go see the attraction they set in town?" Jake grabbed the flyer from his mom's hands, and a smile stretched his lips when he read the words Horror Village. "Well, that seems fun!" Elijah snatched the piece of paper from his brother and nodded. "Alright, I'll go. Could be fun."

"Oh, you won't get rid of me that easily. I'm coming with ya!" Jake went to grab his jacket and Elijah's from the coat rack. "Only if I'm driving." The younger Seresin said as he caught his coat throw at him by his brother. "Not even in your dreams, buddy." Jake chuckled, grabbing his car keys and opening the door, letting his little brother walk out. He waved at his parents and joined Elijah in the car.

Jake had his hands sunk into his pockets, looking around like a little kid. The dim lights created the perfect Halloween atmosphere. He and Elijah reached the Horror Village's gates and multiple security guards were standing there, checking IDs and bags. "You sure you're old enough to be allowed there?" Jake asked his brother with a smirk, earning him a jab in the ribs. Both Seresin brothers passed the gates and a man came up to them to mark their hands and enunciate the guidelines. "No alcohol allowed. There will be actors in there, they can touch you, you can touch them. All the weapons you'll see or come in contact with are fake. If one of the actors goes too far, say 'blackbird' and they'll leave you be. Enjoy your night, gentlemen." The man explained and Jake nodded to the oddly specific rules.

The two brothers started wandering into the village, laughing when a scare actor would jump on a visitor and earning them screams. They eventually reached a food truck and Jake ordered a candy apple, curious when he noticed they made them black. "Aren't you too old for this?" Elijah asked when Jake thanked the lady in the truck as she handed him his candy apple. "I'll never be too old for sugar." He winked at his little brother and moaned in delight as he took his first bite into the sugar-coated fruit. "You're a child." Elijah scoffed as he noticed a cute girl a little further. Jake followed his gaze and chuckled when he saw the girl leaving with her friends. He also noticed the short skirt she was wearing and the way his brother's eyes lowered to her bare legs. "Trust me, buddy. You don't have time for this." He clapped his hand on Elijah's shoulder.

"Don't have time for what? Fun?" Elijah raised a brow with a smile. "For girls like her, trust me when I say she'd only play with you." Jake tried to regain his brother's attention. "Maybe I wanna play with her too." He grinned, a well-known spark in his eyes. Jake grimaced and groaned, seeing too much of himself in his little brother. "Gross..." He grumbled as he finished his candy apple, throwing the wooden stick in the garbage near them. "Come on, Romeo. We've still gotta visit that village." He gently pushed his brother forward and kept walking, passing by new actors who were running or staring at visitors.

"Isn't that one of those ladies from your game?" Jake asked, pointing at a lady a bit further. He recognized the revealing outfit from one of the horror games his brother often plays. Elijah sighed, convinced his brother got it wrong but when his eyes landed on you, he raised his eyebrows. "Well shit, you're right. It's one of the nurses from Silent Hill!" And just like you heard them, you turned to them, tilted your head to the side as your character would do. Only a blind person couldn't tell the blond guy was attractive, but unfortunately for you, you were working so no flirting. But you could still have a bit of fun with visitors. You put your hand on a woman's shoulder to hold yourself, startling her and wobbled to the cute guy. The younger man next to him couldn't help himself and looked you up and down but your eyes were only on the taller one. Your entire face was covered with dirty bandages and fake blood, hiding your face and adding realism to the costume.

When you finally reach the man, you faked tripping and held yourself on him, sneaking out a fake scalpel. His arms immediately supported you and as he was about to ask if you were okay, you brought the prop to his neck and a sound escaped your mouth. It was between a low whimper and a complaint. "I think she got you, Jake!" The younger man laughed as the cute guy watched you with wide eyes. "Alright, alright. You're good, I have to admit it." He swallowed and the tip of your prop grazed his Adam's apple as he did so. You smiled under your makeup and slowly pulled back from him.

You raised your hand to his face and ran your dirty finger down his face, leaving a trail of fake blood on his skin. You straightened your legs, appearing taller in your high heeled shoes and brought your face to his, another whine leaving your lips.

Jake looked away from you, feeling your body heat emanating from you and warming up his own body. He hated the way you made him feel. He swore under his breath and tried to remember the safe word the guy at the gates gave them. Blackbird. But it wasn't necessary because you pulled back, taking your hand off his face and your body off his. Jake felt like he could breathe all over again. He refused to look down at you, scared he might ogle right down your revealing cleavage. You waved off the two men and staggered away, blowing Jake a kiss before disappearing into the night. Jake exhaled loudly and calmed himself down while Elijah laughed out loud. "You should see your face!" The young Seresin clapped his hand on his brother's shoulder. "Shut the fuck up."

Elijah looked at his brother up and down and chuckled some more. "Forget I said that. You should see your pants!" He laughed as he discreetly pointed at his brother's pants. Jake looked down and noticed the slight bulge of his jeans and the straining his own body had against the clothes. "God damn it..." The pilot swore and readjusted himself discreetly, looking around to check nobody saw that. "The nurse? Seriously?" Elijah questioned, still laughing at his brother. Jake glared at him and looked over his shoulders to see where you went, but he couldn't see you anymore. "She was hot, okay? Now leave me alone." Jake cleared his throat and tried to think of something else than your body pressed against his and kept walking through the village.

Not even twenty minutes later, his eyes caught sight of you again. His breath got stuck in his throat and he stopped in his track. Elijah slowed down to check on his brother until he noticed you. A smirk pulled at his lips and he turned to Jake. "Why don't you go ask for her number if you like her this much?" Jake rolled his eyes at the suggestion. "She's working and in character, she'd never give me her number. Aren't you supposed to know the nurses don't talk in Silent Hill?" The pilot turned to his brother. "Maybe you could give her a reason to talk." Elijah shrugged and looked at something over the blonde's shoulder. Jake felt a slight tap on his left shoulder and when he turned, his right shoulder was then tapped. He turned around and fell face to face with a bandaged face he recognized immediately.

"You again!" He chuckled and felt his face warm up. He could practically hear his brother's smirk behind him. You stood there, staring at him, your bare legs looking like they could break with how fragile they looked. But again, it was all an act to stay in character. He watched you leaned closer, his breath becoming heavier as you got closer to his body. "Your costume is really great. Very accurate." He said, trying to fill the silence. You tilted your head to the side, notifying you heard what he just said. But loyal to your act, you said nothing, your mouth shut behind the bandages around your head. You watched him as he extended his hand to you with a nervous smile. "I'm...I'm Jake." He nervously chuckled, a soft blush creeping up his face. A low whimper escaped your lips and Jake's smile fell, realizing he couldn't have a real conversation with you. "Right..." He sighed, his hand falling back down along his body. Elijah tapped his shoulder and encouraged him to keep walking. "Come on, we need to finish the tour."

Jake nodded in defeat and took a last look at you before following his brother. You watched him leave, disappointed you couldn't talk to him or anything without risking losing your job. Your character wasn't supposed to talk so you couldn't mutter a single word to anyone in the Village. You only hoped he'd understand and not take it personally.

The next morning, Jake was waiting in line for his coffee, looking down at his phone and the stupid jokes Rooster was sending on the group chat. His fellow pilot travelled back to Virginia to spend Halloween with his wife and kid and now the whole squad had to witness the atrocity he called a home-made costume of him and his kid. Dressed as a chicken and baby chick. Jake quickly typed an answer as he took a step forward, feeling the line move. But he didn't stop in time and bumped into someone. He quickly looked up and made eye contact with a young woman before apologizing. "Very sorry." He apologetically smiled and the woman looked at him up and down. Jake knew he was handsome, he knew too well, but his mind was still on the masked lady from the night before so he didn't pay no mind. "Do I have to say blackbird for you to not do that again?" She smiled and Jake frowned in confusion. He took a long look at you and looked down at your form. His eyes opened wide as he recognized you. A smile stretched his lips as he finally got a face to put on your body. "It's you." He said, trying to learn the color of your eyes by heart. "It's me." You smiled at him and noticed how even more handsome he looked during daylight.

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