#man city fic

[niftynellie]

• Cats and cuddles •

Pairings: John stones x reader

Warnings: just pure fluff

You quietly pushed through the front door making sure you didn’t make a sound. It wasn’t unreasonably late by the time you’d returned home from dinner and with your friends, but it was late enough that your three year old daughter should have been tucked away in her bed fast asleep.

Ditching your shoes and your bag beside the door, you were slightly surprised you hadn’t heard the soft padding of paws coming to greet you. Usually Dave the cat was the first out of your small little family to greet you at the door whenever you got home. Though tonight he didn’t seem to be anywhere at all.

Making your way upstairs, careful you didn’t trip in the dark hall, the sound of hushed voices reached your ears. You frowned slightly, pulling your phone from the back pocket of your jeans and saw the time was just a little past 9pm. And just as quickly as the question of who the voices belonged to popped into your mind, it was answered.

The question was answered as you reached the top of the steps, seeing the thin streak of light coming from your barely open bedroom and hearing the soft girly giggle of a toddler quickly be shushed by the deep tone you knew to belong to your husband.

You shook your head smiling to yourself, John was nothing but a pushover when it came to your daughter, Millie. And clearly without your backup he’d lost the daily battle that was bedtime. Not that you were surprised. Millie may be young but she was smart and she knew exactly what to say to get her way with the city defender.

Pushing into the bedroom slowly you heard another shush come from your husband and the giggles stop. Peaking your head round the door you were greeted with the sight of John sat up against the headboard, Dave the cat curled up on his lap a bright grin on his face.

“Hey baby, how was dinner with the girls?” He asked, very obviously nodding his head towards your side of the bed. You narrowed your eyes playfully, “it was nice, the food was unbelievable” you answered as normal as you looked to your side and saw the very obvious wriggly lump hiding under the covers. A hushed laugh leaving your lips, you played along.

“Is mills asleep? Do you think I should go in and give her a Goodnight kiss” you teased slipping quickly into your Pyjamas. “No” a small voice whispered.

“No no no, she’s fast asleep, basically dead to the world there’s no point” John convinced trying to hold back a laugh, earning himself another cheeky giggle from the little one.

You smiled, you know you should probably be a little annoyed that millie was still awake considering how hard it had been to get her into the bedtime routine as it was, but the moment was far to wholesome for you to even be bothered by that right now.

“Alright then, I guess I’ll just have to get into bed myself then” you said mirroring the grin John had on his own face, his hands running up and down the Dave’s back as he watched you walk over to the bed. Making your footsteps that little bit heavier so Millie could hear you coming.

Once you were beside the bed your fingers reached for the covers, you and John sharing one more grin before you swung the covers back. The second you did Millie sprung up “boo” she squealed her arms wide, Dave sprung from his spot on John spooked by the sudden movement. You dramatically gasped your hands covering your mouth as Millie fell into Johns arms the both of them cackling wildly.

“What are you doing in here missy” you poked as you climbed into bed beside the pair, Millie’s laughs still rolling from her lips as she reached away from John and grabbing onto you.

“Daddy said I could sleep here” she said curling into your side as you tucked the covers over yourself. “Did he know?” You asked, though it was more directed to the man soothing the spooked cat on his lap rather than your daughter.

“Mmmh” he hummed, “only because I made someone promise they’d eat all their veggies at dinner” he said nudging his mini-me with his elbow. Millie now firmly squeezed in the middle of you and John, keeping you both separate.

“I did, carrots AND peas” Millie proudly stated through a yawn, you smiled softly feeling her little arms wrap around your bicep, using you like a stuffed toy. Glancing up at John, you saw he’d slumped down the bed no longer resting against the headboard now softly laid on his pillow. Covers tucked up over his chest and Dave back to being curled in his lap.

“Good girl baby, your gonna get all big and strong if you keep that up” you whispered and hand running through her brown hair. Millie smiled up sleepily, her eyes drooping ever so slightly. “Just like daddy” she mumbled before another ginormous yawn left her tiny lips.

As if possible Johns grin got brighter, and your heart almost burst into a million pieces. “Mummy shush now, we sleep” Millie scolded before you could say another word. A huffed laugh left both yours and Johns lips at the little girls attitude, “that’s all you” he muttered, before reaching a hand over and cupping your cheek, pulling you gently towards him. You leant over the girl beside you and placed a sweet peck onto your husbands lips “goodnight love” you whispered. He pulled you back for another smiling into it before letting you lay back down settled on your own side of the bed before he reached for his lamp.

“Good night my pretty girls” he spoke hushed, before switching the lamp off.

[monstersholygrail]

What happens if someone is in a relationship/marriage whilst in Free Use City? How would that work?

As another day winds down in Free Use City, you and your Monster Husband move around your shared room with ease. Working as though you are two cogs working in a perfect machine. The deep familiarity between you both is evident as your husband slides your lotion to the edge of the sink right before you walk in and grab it.

You lean into his side and his arm naturally winds around your waist as he brushes his teeth. The height difference between you both is comical yet the way you two fit together is utter perfection. Uncapping your lotion you barely even think as the words slip out of your mouth.

“Some Tentacle Monster fucked me in the bathroom today at work. Was pleasantly surprised by the tentacle dick.”

Your husband snorts in amusement, quickly closing his mouth to stop the toothpaste from flying. Your mouth quirks up as you dot some lotion on your arms.

Living in the city, when proposing to fuck someone, the act is always shared and discussed between you two beforehand. Whether it’s a group activity or solo. But if someone comes up to you to fuck, well, that’s more than fair game.

“Really?” He asks once his mouth is rinsed. You hum in agreement, leaning down to rub lotion up and down your plush legs. An act your husband can’t help but watch with rapt attention. “A Tentacle Monster actually fucked me too, today. At my desk!”

You whip back up, looking at your husband with wide eyes and a smile.

“No way! Think it was the same one?”

“That would be hot.”

You hum in agreement once again, nodding along as you imagine a Tentacle Monster purposefully going out of their way to find you and your husband just to know they got to fuck you both. A shiver runs down your spine and you meet your husband’s eye in the mirror. His gaze reflects your own, a burning heat of lust as similar thoughts race through your mind.

In a flash you two are jumping each other, mouth classing in a heated kiss. Your limbs tangling as you practically climb him like a fucking tree. Your husband lifts your plush body up with ease, settling you on the sink and standing between your thick thighs. He growls into the kiss, his tongue diving deep in your mouth.

His hands feel like a blur on your skin as he rips away the clothes standing in the way of him finally having you again. He doesn’t break away from your lips, uncaring that you’re running out of air. He needs you like you’re his air and isn’t that more important?

He finally breaks away from the kiss as he sinks into your slick heat to throw his head back. A long groan leaving his lips now. Your moans mingle with his like a perfect melody as his fat cock stretches your walls beyond possible. Your sopping hole welcoming your husband’s cock back inside you with relief.

Your body tingles as his claws sink into your flesh, keeping you steady as he starts pounding away into your pussy as if he’s been waiting for this all day. By the way your core sucks him back in with every thrust it’s clear it’s hurt you to wait just as much. Neither of you can get enough of each other, your hands scouring the other, clinging to the person you crave more than anyone.

“F-fuck, baby. Nothing feels better than this. Sweet pussy was fucking made for me, wasn’t it?” Your husband growls, his hips snapping harder and faster. Finding the act of not being inside you near unbearable.

You cry out, nails clawing at his back. Desperate to get him as deep inside you as possibly. No one wills you the way he does, no one knows your body and how to so perfectly make you feel good like he does. His words send tingles down your spine. A familiar relief sparking through you as you know nothing a doubt your husband would chose you over anyone.

“Yes! Fuck! This pussy was made for your cock. Fits so perfect. So, hnghhh, good…”

Monster Husband roars, more than pleased by your words. He gets impossibly bigger within you and you scream, your hips pushing back to meet his every thrust. He rolls his hips into you at an inhuman speed, hitting every spot along your walls that has you seeing stars.

“That’s it— aughh— dammit, cum for me. Need to feel you baby, please,” your husband begs, his thrusts quickly growing sloppy as he chases release for you both.

His words weave into your ear and shoot straight down to your core. Your body jolts and seizes in his embrace and a second later you’re violently thrown into an earth shattering orgasm. Your screams rival a banshees as a deep pressure snaps and gushes out of you. Your pussy milking your husband’s cock for all it’s worth. Your slutty cunt sucks him back in as he tries to grind his length inside you and it has him following you into climax. Shooting thick ropes of cum as far inside you as he can possibly reach.

You two sag against each other. Holding onto one another with everything you have. Comforted by your mere presences and the knowledge that no matter who chooses to fuck you, you’ll always choose each other first.

[savanir]

Danyal- or well, Daniel now he supposes, seeing as none of these “kind” strangers can pronounce his name right. Has found himself a golden opportunity to hopefully get back to where he actually belongs.

His current predicament was anything but what he could have ever imagined happening to him. He remembers an attack, an assassination attempt on him and his twin. He remembers taking a hit meant for Dami, he remembers the electricity coursing through his body from the weapon the assassin used and so graciously left in his abdomen, meant to make his body seize which would make attempts to keep him from dying just a little bit harder, and his death just that little bit more painful.

After that he vaguely remembers falling, and then burning green.

Next thing he knows he’s in a foreign place with foreign people trying to “help”.

Wherever he is he’s certainly not anywhere near Nanda Parbat.

But he’ll get back, and the easiest way to do so is to secure transportation and funding.

Which shouldn’t be hard as soon as he’s “convinced” this random rich guy to adopt him.

—✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*---*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧—

Oliver is starting to regret the brilliant PR idea of sponsoring and supporting the new improved Star City foster care system.

In and of itself that’s of course a very good thing, and absolutely something he cares about and is happy to spend his money on, but these things should just be a given, just a thing that’s done because it’s the right thing to do.

Can’t just do that of course… we have to make a huge spectacle about it, showcase some poor but very adorable kids in need of a loving family. make a big party about it.

Oliver is vaguely reminded of pet adoption days that some animal shelters do. Also a good thing he’s in full support of, but that’s animals, and these are actual children.

The thought is making it rather hard to keep a pleasant smile on his face. Thankfully he’s very effectively being distracted by the little guy who somehow managed to attach himself to his leg and refuses to let go.

Oliver looks down.

The boy with the biggest most blue eyes looks up.

There are cameras and reporters and Oliver can feel the bad decision creeping up and the voice in the back of his head screaming, “don’t do it. DON’T DO IT”

Oliver lifts the boy up, “hey there little man, what is your name?”

He gets a big smile in return and the bad decision suddenly doesn’t seem so bad anymore, weird.

—✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*---*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧—

Roy had been talking, or well, it was more like venting to Dinah about something Oliver had done, or said, maybe both, probably both… When they heard the front door open and was quickly followed by a “Dinah I have a surprise but first you have to promise you won’t get mad”

Which… bad sign, very bad sign, terrible sign.

“Oliver what have you done”

The man walks into the room and proudly shows off his latest impulsive decision, “Congratulations, it’s a boy!”

…That’s a whole ass kid.

“Oliver Jonas Queen! you did not!”

But he did and that choice changes everything.

[a-pute11as]

it's just platonic...

word count - 3k | summary - flirty leila x oblivious r

MDNI 18 + - not smut but 18+ themes

leila had always been affectionate, some may even say over-affectionate, but you just thought that was the spanish side of her. every time she greeted you she placed a kiss on your forehead, or wrapped her arms around your waist from behind, often holding you like that for several minutes. at one point you began to think that maybe those lingering glances or touchy moments meant something, but you knew she acted similarly towards other teammates too, definitely not in the same ways but you knew it meant this was just how she acted. so every touch, glance, innocent kiss was pushed to the back of your mind whilst you ignored the growing desire from the bottom of your stomach. it was just platonic, it held no meaning. 

your days always started out the same, by purposely taking longer to get ready for training if it meant you got to have your usual morning interaction with leila. you sat in your cubby in the locker room, pretending to adjust your socks or pointlessly scrolling through your phone. Every time the door opened your head turned, and it was as if the room lit up when she walked in. 

“good morning princesa” leila greeted you, just as she did every morning, cupping her hands on your cheeks as she leant down for her lips to meet your forehead, “how was your evening? did you sleep well?” she smiled, beaming down at you, a smile that felt like rays of sunshine had taken over the room. 

it was just platonic, you reminded yourself. 

“si, muy bien” your spanish response caused the spaniard to raise her eyebrows, she had been teaching you small bits of spanish since you transferred just over a year ago after telling her your goal of one day playing for barca. 

“qué hiciste anoche?” she asked, pressing for another spanish reply, wanting to see if her lessons were paying off. 

“umm sali a cenar uuh” you stuttered before pausing for a moment, your eyes squinted as you thought of what to say next to impress the spaniard “con una amiga”, content with your answer, you opened your eyes again to meet her gaze. 

her reaction was to instantly squeeze your face in her grip as she quickly placed more kisses on your forehead, “you’re getting better everyday!” she said, her face beaming before her hands dropped and she made her way to her cubby, 3 spaces down from where you were sitting. 

it was just platonic.

your cheeks had flushed a deep red colour, you cleared your throat before catching the eyes of jill who was sat across from you, her eyebrows raised at the obvious effect leila had on you. you furrowed your eyebrows and shook your head at her, dismissing any speculation she could’ve been making. jill shook her head, knowing how oblivious you were to the targeted affection you received from leila. 

“you ready?” alanna said, stopping in front of you, completely snapping you out of your thoughts. 

“yep” you were quick to stand up, breaking jill’s gaze, alanna’s arm wrapped around your shoulder as the two of you walked towards the pitch. 

you had grown close to alanna after spending countless evenings with her, leila, laia and jill, especially when you first transferred. whilst you knew some of your teammates before transferring, the four of them had welcomed you with open arms, helping you settle into your new flat and manchester life. you and laia had bonded over being the younger members of the group, often ‘bullying’ the slightly older girls when one of them began to show their age. 

“did you enjoy your morning greeting today?” she asked, pushing into your shoulder playfully. alanna was the only one you mentioned your confused feelings to, she tried to explain that she thought leila shared those feelings but you were set in your mind of not believing her. 

“alanna it’s just how she shows affection, you guys are always walking around together, linking arms and everything” you rolled your eyes, continuing your walk to the training pitch. 

“have you seen her acting like that with anyone else?” she questioned, grabbing your arm and stopping you in your tracks. 

“well yes, maybe not everything but other things” you returned, shaking your head dismissively. 

she immediately rolled her eyes at your comment, “there’s no way you don’t see how she acts differently with you, she’s all over you, literally all the time.” she emphasised. “anyone can tell you th-“

“lans stop” you cut her off, “i don’t want to get my hopes up, i know it’s platonic and i’ve accepted that” you sighed, before continuing to walk towards the pitch, leaving alanna stood in the doorway. 

for a split second you turned around to see whatever alanna would be following you, however leila had quickly caught up to her and the two of them seemed deep in conversation. you brushed it off before going onto the pitch, ready to start your training session and forget about what alanna had mentioned. 

you spent the entire session pushing yourself as much as you could, ensuring every movement flowed perfectly and every attempt was on target. everything you had was put into the session.

“you did well, mi amor” leila said, her hand resting on your lower back as you stood taking a water break, goosebumps instantly covered your body at the contact, “are you excited to go out later for alanna’s birthday?” she asked. 

it was just platonic.

“of course, i’m excited to get a bit tipsy” you smiled, putting your water down as you spoke. 

“only a bit though, you can’t get too drunk princesa, even if we have a day off tomorrow” she laughed slightly, her hand now drawing circles on your back. 

“princesa this, princesa that, get a room” jill mocked, reaching for her water bottle and rolling her eyes. your eyes instantly widened and your cheeks went bright red.

“cállate, sabes que quiero compartir habitación con ella” leila spoke, aiming her spanish towards jill who probably didn’t know what she was actually saying. she spoke too fast for you to truly understand what she was saying other than telling jill to shut up and wanting something.

“oye leila, i heard that” laia announced, as she made her way over to the three of us. you were a bit lost at this point, not sure where the conversation was going and you could tell jill couldn’t really tell what was happening either. 

“whatttt? it is true” she shrugged with a small smile and a laugh. 

training had finished and you headed back to your flat, you had planned to just relax before you had to get ready for alannas birthday celebration but your phone pinged which peaked your attention. 

laia - what are you wearing tonight?

you - hmm something tight and short probably

laia - perfecto i’ll pick you up at 7

you - gracias amiga

laia - those spanish lessons are really paying off, you must be paying a lot of attention ;)

you - shut up its for my future

laia - sure thing nena

you made a slow start on getting ready, doing exactly as you told laia by putting on something tight and short. as much as you told yourself it was platonic, you’d never miss out on a chance to purposely catch her attention, especially when it came to what you were wearing. 

your attempt to slowly get ready meant at 6:55 you began rushing to do the final finishing touches, a knock on your door stopped the rampage you were on trying to find the right lipstick shade that matched your lip liner. you ran to the door, unlocking and opening it, not paying attention to the person standing behind it before running into the bathroom to finish your lipstick. 

“laia im nearly ready i promise, i need like two minutes” whilst you didn’t hear a response, you heard the door close as the person stepped into your flat. 

you leant forward over your bathroom counter as you did your lipstick in the mirror, focusing on getting it exactly perfect until a figure appeared in the doorway behind you. 

your eyes widened at the person staring back at you in the mirror, “oh leila, i didn’t see you there”, spinning around to meet her eyes as you watched her eyes scan your body up and down.

“you look… incredible” she mumbled, her tongue flicking across her lips. like clockwork, your cheeks flashed bright red as your body instantly heated in response to her words. 

“thank you” you smiled nervously, “you look really good” you added, taking a moment to take in the way her clothes fit her perfectly whilst her hair flowed down her shoulders. she thanked you in response, of course calling you amor in the process before leaving the two of you stood there in silence for a few minutes. strangely enough the silence wasn’t awkward, it felt comfortable and safe, even if your entire body was on fire.

but of course that meant nothing, because it was just platonic.

“are you ready?” she asked, breaking the silence, prompting the two of you to go down to laia who was probably getting tired of waiting in the car.

“uh yes sorry lets go” you smiled, she moved to the side allowing you to pass through. 

you both made your way down to the car, now running ever so slightly late, trying to ignore the now building tension between you and leila. 

it didnt take long to get to the dinner venue, instantly being greeted with a shot of vodka when you entered. you took the shot, winching at the strong taste, before spotting alanna and going towards her. 

“happy early birthday” you smiled as you embraced your close friend, “how’s it feel to be basically middle aged” you joked, playfully hitting her shoulder. 

“at least im not closer to the age of a child than an adult, so maybe you need to go do your homework and get an early night” she bit back, returning your playful shoulder hit. you rolled your eyes, laughing at the sassy response you were given from before stepping back to allow the others to greet her. 

you watched as alanna whispered something in leila’s ear, leilas face lighting up as she spoke before the two of you glanced over at you. you furrowed your eyes slightly in confusion before the two of them broke apart allowing both you and laia back into the conversation.

“you look really good, are you trying to impress someone?” alanna directed towards you, your eyes slightly widening as your brain tried to think of some kind of response to that question. 

“what? no i just made an effort tonight” you responded, shaking your head at her accusation. 

“especially in that outfit, you must’ve heard leila likes short skirts” she teased, her and laia both laughing slightly whilst leila directed a smirk towards you. 

the truth was you did, that's exactly why you did it, jill had relayed a conversation to you about things leila liked and that specific thing seemed to stick in your head so you decided to act on that information. 

“i already told her she looks incredible” leila interjected, “i think i like the skirt the most though”, she added, her smirk only growing. 

“no no, shut up, i just really liked this outfit, not to impress leila, shut up” you defended, diverting your eye contact from leila’s gaze, “i’m going to get a drink” you announced, avoiding the truth, before excusing yourself to the bar.

you sighed as you reached the bar, leaning on your elbows, your head into your hands as your heart felt like it was beating through your chest. 

“everything okay?” jill said, patting her hand on your head before standing next to you. 

you silently shook your head, before putting your head up to look at jill. “i think i need to get with someone, like anyone, i can’t keep doing this” you spoke, about to put your hand up to call the bartender over until jill grabbed your arm, pulling it down. 

“im not letting that happen, you aren’t the type of person to just get with anyone, we both know that” she was right, you wanted to feel connection and love, not just a random body pressed against yours. your problem was that you wanted a specific person, a very specific person, who didn’t want you. 

“there’s that saying umm erm” you stuttered, trying to remember the phrase, “it’s you have to get under someone to get over someone else, that’s what i need to do” you insisted. 

“can you be for real right now? we can all see you like leila, and we all know leila likes you back, how can you not see it?” jill rolled her eyes as she spoke. 

“i refuse to believe that jill, she acts the same way with everyone, it’s platonic” you interrupted her, trying to reason with her. 

“she’s literally been dying to ask you out but thinks that you don’t like her back, i know you’re wearing that outfit because of what i said, you want her as much as she wants you” her words had left you silent, not sure how to process them. “what is it going to take for you to see that too?” she asked. 

you shook your head dismissing her comment before turning to the bartender to order yourself a drink that had more alcohol content than you probably should’ve drank. it didn’t take you long to drink it, noticing jill leaving out the corner of your mind but not paying much attention to it. 

“nena come and dance, you look too good to be there all night” laia prompted, mentally pulling you from your daze and physically pulling you onto the dance floor. 

the alcohol had hit your bloodstream, you weren’t drunk by any means, or even tipsy, but compared to your previous state you had relaxed massively. you let yourself lose control as you joined laia and a few of your other teammates on the dance floor. it was like your ‘get under someone to get over someone’ attitude had disappeared and all you wanted to do was genuinely enjoy yourself, exactly as jill had predicted. 

suddenly a pair of arms wrapped round your waist from behind, “you having fun?” they questioned, their breath on your neck instantly heating your body, but you recognised the voice and the tattoo arms that had a hold on you. 

“of course i am, are you?” you questioned back, staying in her arms as you swayed in time with the music. 

“si, it’s been fun watching you dance” she whispered, only furthering the heat that was spreading across your body. one of her hands travelled down your outer thigh, clutching the hem of your skirt, “this is very cute, is it for me?”. 

you hadn’t seen this side of leila before, you were used to the touching, or the occasional cheeky comments that she would make but this felt like something else, you'd go as far as saying it seemed like she was flirting with you. whatever it was, it didn’t feel platonic.

her hands lay back on your waist as she spun you around so you were facing her, “i like this view a lot more”, she smirked, her eyes flicking between your lips and your eyes. 

“leila, have you been drinking?” you asked, furrowing your eyebrows at the sudden confidence the spaniard had found. 

“not at all, i’m just tired of you being so oblivious to every attempt i try to make” she commented casually, shrugging her shoulders as if she was telling me her shopping list. 

you shook your head, "don't play with me, it’s not funny”.

she quickly looked around her surroundings before grabbing your hand, guiding you towards the entrance of the venue. you stood outside the front of the club looking at her as if she had six heads, confused as to why she’d rush the two of you outside. 

“do you seriously not believe what everyone has been telling you?” she questioned with a small laugh as if she couldn’t believe the amount of attempts it was taking to get you to realise the attraction. 

“no i -” you were quickly interrupted.

“i want you, more than i can describe, i’ve spent months trying to figure out if you felt the same and when lani told me you did it was as if nothing else mattered and i was so set on showing you how i felt. i’ve literally kissed your head every day for the past 3 months, and you just thought i was being friendly, when have you ever seen me do that to anyone else?” she rambled, confessing everything she’d been holding back, “i wanted to wait and take you on a date but you showed up tonight looking like this and i couldn’t stop myself, do you believe me now?”

you stood staring at her in shock for a few moments, everything you wanted her to say she had finally said and yet you couldn’t process a word she said.

“you like me?” you asked.

“yes, i really like you”

“more than friends?” you asked again. 

“well yeah, that’s what ‘i want you’ means” she answered.

“so it’s not platonic?” you continued.

“if that word means the same in english and spanish then it’s not platonic, i want to be more than friends, i want to show everyone you’re mine in every way possible” she clarified. 

“is this a good time to say i like you too” you commented, looking down at your hands, twisting your ring around your finger as if leila hadn’t just confessed everything she could. 

she closed the gap between the two of you, using her finger to raise your chin so your eyes were meeting hers, “it’s the perfect time mi amor” she smiled, cupping your jaw before pulling you closer as your lips met in perfect sync.

i guess it wasn’t just platonic then.

(blame any spelling or grammar mistakes on google docs xx)

[frenchvanilla-mase]

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.

[trek-tracks]

Do you ever think about how Kirk had a "best friend" on the ship before Bones in Gary Mitchell, a man who:

a) deviously manipulates him into heartbreak for Mitchell's benefit,

b) shames him for not being "fun" enough when he's in a position of power,

c) openly insults intelligent and powerful women,

d) treats everyone cruelly as soon as he gets power and tries to seize everything for himself,

e) finds it fascinating that he can stop a person's heart for fun, and

f) tries to murder Kirk instead of admitting that he's a danger to the universe,

and then chooses to replace him with Bones, a man who:

a) tries to save Kirk from heartbreak at every opportunity,

b) gets him to smile and relax by being genuinely interested in how he's doing and telling him that he's great and respected just as he is,

c) openly toasts intelligent and powerful women,

d) treats everyone kindly as soon as he gets power and tries to use it to help as many people as he can,

e) cries about how people suffered when medical treatments were less advanced, and

f) says, "Jim, I can't destroy life, even if it's to save my own. I can't."

because I do

[nobodysdaydreams]

I have a theory about Wicked Part 2 and what they are going to add to it, and why it's going to add so much to the movie.

I think they are going to add Dorothy's POV.

In the musical, she's mentioned, but Dorothy never appears on stage. We never know her POV or how much she knew about the witches, Fiyero, Boq, the lion, or what was actually going on in Wicked beyond the Wizard of Oz plot. But in the Wicked two trailers, we see scenes of Dorothy and those scenes are shot as if from the Wizard of Oz, not the traditional Wicked musical, in which Dorothy's character is only briefly mentioned or shown as a shadow. Which means we're going to get to see her story this time!

However, if I was going to include Dorothy's POV for Wicked, I don't think it would be anything like the Wizard of Oz, for a few clear reasons:

Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz is a perceptive and animated child and unless they plan on erasing that aspect of her character, she is not going to go home from Oz at the end of the Wicked movie with the same beliefs as the Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz. She sees the Wizard is a fraud and calls him out just like Elphaba does. Besides this, there is no way she would just not pick up on the fact that Galinda, the dead witch, Boq, Fiyero, Elphaba, and the lion have a deeper history together than meets the eye for the entire trip.

This one might sound stupid, but trust me, it's important: Toto as a character. Here me out. In the Wizard of Oz, Dorothy's distress in the real world is centered around a mean lady trying to drown her dog and the Witch of the West tries to do the same in Oz. However, in this version, Elphaba's whole thing is animal rights. She'd probably be horrified that Toto can't talk or Dorothy would be surprised and delighted to find that in this world, Toto can talk depending on what they decide to do with the dog. And if Dorothy comes to this world distressed about a lady trying to kill her poor dog, Elphaba would surely empathize. There might even be a misunderstanding between them if Elphaba believes Dorothy is working for the Wizard and Toto is a dog that needs rescuing.

So how does this change things?

There are a number of wonderful options.

The most obvious one is that we could see Dorothy put together and discover the story of Boq, Nessarose, Galinda, Elphaba, Fiyero, and the Wizard. She and the rest of the gang would formulate a plan to help Elphaba fake her death to save her from the people of Oz and the Wizard.

Within that narrative, we could see Elphaba enchanting the sleeping poppies to stop them from getting to the Wizard with the goal of protecting them from the Wizard (rather than to stop them from getting home). In Act 2 of Wicked, the Wizard again tries to form an alliance with Elphaba but Elphaba rejects his offer when she discovers what he's done to her Animal friends. It's possible that Elphaba believes the Wizard is trying to use Dorothy too and is trying to protect her from the same fate.

We could also see conversations between Dorothy and Fiyero about Elphaba (and there are many AO3 fics that have been going with that concept. I see y'all, thank you for doing the Lord's work 🙏🏻) and possibly some conversations between Dorothy and Boq since they'll be traveling together and we don't really get to hear about Boq's ending in the musical. I think the last we see of Boq is that he's angry at Elphaba for his condition and rallying crowds against her, but with all that traveling time and secrets coming out, I could see him getting, I don't know if I'd call it a "redemption arc" per say, but finding his heart again (a real one). Additionally, conversations between Dorothy and the lion about how Elphaba saved him would be nice too. Even if the lion had learned to blame Elphaba for what happened to him, I'm sure Dorothy would be quick to correct him once she discovered the full truth.

But my favorite, my absolute favorite and darkest possibility is the interactions that Dorothy can have with the Wizard. In the Wizard of Oz, she exposes him as a fraud, but in the Wicked movie, he's much worse than that, and I can totally see Dorothy being the one to point that out to him. Why?

First of all, Dorothy is not from Oz. Most people there would never question the Wizard, but if he's so powerful and generous, why is he sending an innocent little girl and three down-on-their-luck guys to go murder his dangerous enemy? That right there is a red flag, and again, if they don't change Dorothy's character, she's going to be a very honest child and comment on how strange this is.

Second of all, if anything I speculated above is true and Dorothy realizes this the Wizard is an animal abuser who vilified an innocent woman, she's going to be very angry at the Wizard, and rightfully so (I hope Toto bites him).

Third of all, and here's where it gets good: in the musical Wicked, the Wizard discovers he is Elphaba's father at the very end because of the bottle Galinda has. Dorothy is not on stage for that because she's not in the main cast of the musical, only mentioned by the other characters, but what if she was? What if she's the one that discovers the connection? What if she calls him out the exact same way Elphaba did after the Wizard gave his little "I always wanted to be a father" speech?

What if the Wizard had a little animal-loving girl who reminds him so much of the daughter he just sent to her to kill standing in front of him with a horrified expression while he puts the pieces together?

What if Dorothy's POV in Wicked isn't about her exposing the Wizard as a nervous fraud, but as a heartless monster?

What if Dorothy's POV is about her exploring this new world and discovering for herself who is truly wicked or good?

[ghostbsuter]

"Oh, fuck no." The door is slammed, unfortunately for him, the guy stuck his foot in the jamb and pushed it open again.

"C'mon luv!" Constantine smiles charmingly, not waiting for Danny and entering the apartment.

At least Batman, Nightwing and Spoiler had the patience to wait for him to invite them in. Sagging against the door, he beckoned them inside.

Despite the caution, Spoiler gleefully stepped in, looking around like a child in an amusement park— which might not be too far off.

His apartment is, with all its wards and enchantments, very magical inside than it is outside.

The planetary system of another world, used as light for the living room and for practice.

(Nightwing is careful with what he touches. He still remembers the hours they spent in Mumbo Jumbo's hat.)

Batman on the other hand is following Constantine and Danny to what he assumes to be the office, if the amount of magical stuff carelessly laying around means anything.

"Alright fucker, what are you doing here? And how did you even know I live in gotham?"

John had the audacity to look abashed, scratching the back of his head with a nervous chuckle.

"Something came up and you know Gotham doesn't like me. She is much more used to you and I wanted to introduce bats to you, in case of emergency."

The young adolence stares owlishly.

(How did Constantine expect him to act at the fact that he's trusting a magical situation into the hands of a stranger?

Batman isn't sure how good the boy even is!)

"That's incredible thoughtful of you Connie." Danny hums. "What did you lose for your sorry ass to come here?"

Spoiler snorts, petting a red salamander. "He didn't lose anything." She reassures with a wave, giving an exaggerated smile and raising her brows to show that she's finding it very amusing.

Constantine sputters.

"Ancient knows how Zatanna and Raven deal with him."

Nighteing perks up from the side where he'd looked over the books, some pixie fairies(?) fawning over him? "Raven? You know her?"

Danny suppresses another sigh.

[httpsdana]

Since Ruben got himself a new puppy I need to read fic with Ruben being jealous of new addition to the family. The puppy won’t leave his girlfriend side even for a night sleep and being really protective of her when Ruben around

Man-to-man~Rúben Dias

・❥・prompt list

・❥・masterlist -> part 2

・❥・who I write for

Rúben stepped into the house after an exhausting match, dropping his keys on the nearby table. He kicked off his shoes, placing them on the shoe rack.

He called out for his girlfriend, but didn't hear anything in response. When he stepped into the living room, he saw her sitting there, a book in hand and their new addition to the family, Zazu the little brown ball of fur, curled up on her lap while she scratched behind his ears.

“Now that's betrayal. I called out for you and you didn't answer” He said, making her look up at him surprised.

“you're here? how was the match, honey?” she asked, watching as he dropped down next to her.

“you didn't watch it?” his voice was a bit disappointed, making her quickly shake her head.

“I did, but this little one distracted me a lot. didn't you baby?” she cooed the little puppy in her arms.

Rúben scoffed, making her raise an eyebrow but she didn't question him.

“Can we go to bed please? I just want to relax” Rúben pleaded, tugging on her hand.

“of course, let's go” as soon as she got up, Zazu was already sprinting to the room.

Rúben opened his mouth to speak up but stopped when y/n laughed, picking up the pace of her steps.

Rúben let out a sigh, following his girlfriend and the little thing who seems like he's been replacing him.

When he got to the room, he saw Zazu curled up in his spot, while y/n was giggling at the little puppy.

“oh absolutely not” Rúben shook his head, stepping closer to the bed.

“what?” y/n asked him, confused.

“he has to sleep in his own bed, simba never sleeps with us in bed” he reached out, holding the little puppy in his hand, only for him to squirm out of his hand and dart back onto the bed. This caused y/n to laugh at the annoyed look on Ruben's face.

“listen here little guy, let's have a talk, man-to-man” Rúben said, pointing his index finger at Zazu who was looking up at him with wide eyes.

“she is my girlfriend. I cuddle her, I feed her, and I…” he looked up at her, before leaning down to whisper in the puppy's ear. “you know…do other things to her” he whispered, making y/n burst into laughter.

“So you're gonna be sleeping in your bed tonight” Rúben said.

Zazu let out a whimper as Rúben held him again to place him outside the room. When he did, Rúben got in bed, pulling her closer to place her head on his chest.

“how cute is it for you to be jealous of that innocent thing” she teased, making him roll his eyes.

Before he could reply, Zazu was on the bed, but this time he curled up on Rúben's chest next to y/n's head.

Rúben let out a sigh, before smiling slightly.

“see he loves you too” she said, scratching the dog's head as he fell asleep.

“he better love me. I was the one who brought him here” Rúben joked, making her chuckle.

She leaned up, pressing a kiss on his jaw as he traced shapes on her back in a soothing way.

“don't worry you'll be my number one always, if you keep on feeding, cuddling, and ‘doing other things to me’” she mimicked his words earlier, making him laugh, the rumbling of his chest as he laughed making Zazu let out a whimper.

“sorry baby” y/n said, pressing a kiss on the puppy's head.

“one for me too” Rúben said, leaning down to kiss her. She smiled against his lips, kissing him once again before they settled in bed, ready to unwind.

my taglist: @barcapix @paucubarsisimp @spidybaby @mxryxmfooty @n0vazsq @joaosnovia @ilovebarcaaa @f1lover55 @jajajhaahaha (lmk if you want to be added!!)

[gadriezmannsgirl]

dad!ruben plissss🥹

You ask and I deliver😌 However, I'm sorry if this not what you wanted nor expected, did this at 3am😭 sorry. Let me know what you think, please!

O Meu Pai -R.D3

Summary: Vitória is daddy's little girl and her daddy, Rúben, loves her

"Toya, c'mon baby" You spoke lightly "C'mon we've to get you ready para irmos ao aniversário da avó Bernadette!" (so we can go to grandma Bernadette's birthday!)

"Are you and Pai matching?" You smile nodding

"And so are you, dear" You kiss your babygirl's four years old hair before getting out of her closet a light blue dress to match outifts with you and your six years husband, Rúben.

You listen to her sing some children's songs as you got her clothes on her, as soon as you turned around to grab her shoes a knock on your door came in.

"Como estão as minhas meninas?" (How are my girls, doing?) Rúben asks pecking inside the room "Meu Deus!" (My god!) He gasps "You are so pretty!"

"Pai!" Vitória yelled in your ear as you were putting her shoes on

"Don't yell in mamã's ear, baby" You tell her with a small smile getting behind her to do her hair

"Sorry, mommy" She said softly kissing your hand.

You smile looking at Rúben who has a loving look on his face, whenever he tells you "Sorry" he gives a kiss on your hands or cheeks and your daughter picked up on it.

"No worries, baby" You kissed her cheek too and start working on her hair.

"Vitória, did you get your present for avó Bernadette?" Rúben asks, sitting next to her

"I did! I did a drawing for her!"

"Where's is it? Let me put in the bag so we don't forget about it"

"Right there!" She lifts her arm and points to her small table.

Rúben gets up from the floor and goes to her table to grab the drawing she made, you see the smile on his face and instantly smiled to yourself. You finished her ponytail and secured the small braid you did at the side.

"Vitória, baby. Why don't you go to the living room and play for a bit with Simba and Nala?"

"Is everything alright?" She asks seeing her dad silent

"Yes, babygirl." You say "I gotta talk to daddy really quick"

"But make it quick 'cus we're going to be late!" She says before getting out of her room.

"Just like her dad" Rúben laughs softly "Everything good?" You get up and stand right next to him

"I just can't help but think our baby's growing so fast. She used to draw the big and happy sun at the side of the paper, now she does it on the middle!"

"She's still young, Rú" You giggle "Also, she's learning that the sun comes out from one side and hides from the other, maybe she drew this in the early afternoon?"

"Or maybe she's just growing up?"

"Well, that's life and it's cyrcle" You kiss his shoulder "You're still going to be the man of her life, always. You know it, right?" He nods

"Until she gets married"

"No. You'll still be" You shake your head "But there's a long way until that happens. So let's enjoy her and her early life before she turns 18, starts brining guys home and wants to do a piercing"

"That will not happen!" You laugh kissing his lips

"You're cute. C'mon, grab the drawing and let's go. We'll be late if we stay here and missy Vitória Y/L/N Dias, doesn't like being late"

"She really doesn't"

"I'm telling you, just like her dad" He wraps his arm around your waist, pull you closer to him and kisses your lips softly

"You look gorgeous"

"And you look extremely handsome, love"

"My wife picked this outfit for me"

"She's a fashionista" You whisper before kissing him once again

"Mãe! Pai! Hurry up, we'll be late!" You open the door from her room as you both went out

"Toya, come on babygirl! Let's get to grandma's!" Rúben says before you hear a small "Finally!"

°°° °°° °°°

"A mãe e o pai estavam a demorar muito tempo!" (Mom and Dad were taking too long!)

"Guys" Iván, your brother in law says looking at you and at Rúben "Keep it in your pants"

"Jeez, we weren't doing anything!" You reply "We were actually talking about Vitória's boyfriends?"

"Do you have boyfriend's, Vitória?"

"No! They are little ugly monsters who will only infect me!" She said before running to her dad's legs

"That's right, baby" Rúben says, you give him a look but he doesn't act on it

"Boys will not infect you, Toya" Beatrix, one of your in-laws, says with a small smile

"Either way! I don't wanna be contaminated" Toya says nuzzled in her dad's shoulders, her small arms wrapping around his neck

"Jesus Christ" You mumble to yourself before taking a deep breath

"That's my girl!"

"Rúben!" All of you scolded him as he opened his eyes and mouth

"My daughter, my ways to evite her heartbreak"

"Filho" (Son) Joao, Rúben's dad, says softly with a small smile "You're just like me"

"Like father, like son" Bernadette says making you all laugh.

"Hey, Vi" Carolina asks "Want for me to paint your face?"

"No. Pai"

"C'mon, minha filha" (my babygirl) "I bet you'd look pretty with a pretty drawing and some glitter on your cheek. Would you like that?" She nods

"But I want to cuddle with you, pai"

"You behave like a good girl with your tia and then we will cuddle while watching some cartoons and eating some food mamã and avó did, what do you think?"

"Yes, please" Rúben put her down watching Vitória run towards her tia and then laughing with her.

"I think she's too spoiled by you" Your voice comes in through the now empty living room

"Nah, I don't think so" Rúben smiles "She's just my babygirl"

"And you're her pai. She definitely preferes you over me"

"That's not true" You give him a look and after some silence he answered. "She's just a daddy's little girl, that's normal"

"She is"

"I love it"

"I know you do"

"I love you"

"And I love you too, Rú" You smile

"Can we start practicing for a sister or brother for her?"

"You want another one? Right now?"

"I do" He nods "You?"

"I do" He smiles getting closer to you so he can kiss your lips "How do you think she'll react to a sibling?"

"Mad because you are hers, I'm hers and nobody else's"

"We will have to explain that to her" You nod

"But let's wait 'till baby is in the oven" You mention your tummy "once that happens we can start planning everything"

"You're getting lucky as soon as we're getting home" You laugh blushing. Thank heavens you were the only ones in the room.

"Mãe! Pai!" Toya's voice gets closer "Look at the bee, tia made!"

"You look so pretty!" Rúben says impressed "So you're the queen bee, right?"

"I'm princess Bee, mãe's Queen Bee and you're King Bee, pai" She gave you a kiss on the cheek and a kiss to her dad.

"That's correct, love" Rúben kisses her non-draw cheek. "Ready to cuddle for a bit? What do you want to watch?"

"Barbie Princess and the Pauper!"

"You always know my favorites, don't you?" Rúben asks underneath his breath as he gets into the couch finding a nice and comfy spot

"That's why I ask for them, they're our favorites!"

"We need to sing our hearts out!" Toya laughs shaking her head

"Pai, this isn't our house to yell"

"Well, I'm sorry. But we can't watch a Barbie movie without feeling it at it's fullness"

"You're right, pai; so let's sing it then!"

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviymarcsbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld @http-isabela

[starcurtain]

i swear you just gave me the best prompt for a haikaveh fic. this needs to be written and i will gladly do it.

and thinking on it, Kaveh is widely known all over Sumeru. he really is the Taylor swift, meanwhile, Alhaitham is more of a Tony Hawk. no one recognizes him, sure they know of the acting grand scribe, but they couldn't point him out in a lineup, he's just some guy always with Kaveh.

Trying to diffuse the situation or questions just adds to the fact they're couple.

anyway i would love to write this. I might right now

I honestly think so many people forgot that Kaveh is incredibly bad at keeping it a secret that he lives with Alhaitham but incredibly good at keeping it a secret that he's bankrupt.

The takeaway from Kaveh's character stories is that 95% of Sumeru thinks he's living with Alhaitham because he wants to. And there's pretty much no logical explanation for a (supposedly) rich and (legitimately) famous person to need a "roommate."

So... 95% of Sumeru definitely thinks Kaveh has a kept man. Alhaitham in canon is doing absolutely everything in his power to add fuel to the fire. And Kaveh literally cannot correct the public's assumption--because doing so would require him to reveal his financial struggles.

Basically, what I'm saying is that you should definitely, 110% write a fic. And then send it to me so I can read it.

[gul4bjamoons]

✩ the sparks of sunrise; 

           omar marmoush ────── 

what happens when a certain receptionist finds herself drawn to the charm of the club’s newest signing?

⭑  wordcount : three thousand one hundred fifty-seven.

⭑  notes : i was supposed to put this up when he was announced but was sick out of my mind so whoops– enjoy it on his debut day instead ;)

˙⋆✮ masterlist.

Morning light filters softly through tall windows, illuminating the polished floors. Outside, the city stirs, slowly waking. Inside, the gentle hum of morning routines unfolds—the shuffle of feet, hushed voices. It’s a rhythm you know well, yet today feels different. 

A stillness hangs in the air, anticipation crackling as you prepare to meet Omar Marmoush, the club's newest signing. The buzz around him has been impossible to ignore—young, incredibly talented, a player with potential that could light up the field. But it’s not just his skill that’s caught everyone’s attention; it’s his reputation for being something of an enigma. Quiet, reserved, almost unreachable. The kind of guy who keeps to himself, preferring to let his play do the talking.

When the glass doors slide open, Omar steps through with a grace that seems almost calculated. The moment he enters, the air shifts. His presence is commanding despite his almost shy demeanor. There’s something about him—something that makes you pause for just a beat, like the sudden change of a breeze on a warm day. It’s not just his height or the way the light catches his sharp features; it’s the quiet confidence that emanates from him, like an unspoken promise of something more. 

His eyes, dark and observant, scan the room before landing on you, and when they do, there's a quiet intensity there, almost as if he's studying you in return.

"Good morning," you greet, offering him a warm, easy smile as you glance up from your desk. Your voice is light, the corners of your lips lifting automatically. "You’re early. Didn’t expect anyone for a while."

Omar’s gaze meets yours, his eyes steady, his expression unreadable at first, but then his lips quirk into a small, confident smile. “I prefer to be early,” he says, his voice calm and smooth, like the slow roll of waves lapping against the shore. “Can’t afford to waste time, right?”

The words are confident, but there’s a faint, almost undetectable edge of uncertainty in his eyes. You’ve seen it before, in other athletes, in other people who carry the weight of expectation on their shoulders. 

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued by the way he seems to carry himself. “Agreed.” you reply, leaning back slightly in your chair, your eyes narrowing playfully. “Not many players are here though. I think the only one you’ll find around is the coach.”

His eyes flicker toward the hallway, his gaze momentarily distant, as if imagining the journey ahead. “I’m fine with that,” he says, readjusting his gym bag while stepping away. “I just need to get out on the pitch again.” 

You smile, amused. "Okay, but just so you know, the hall can be a bit of a maze. You’ll want to go straight, past the gym, and then left. It’s easy to get lost your first time."

Omar waves you off with a casual flick of his wrist, his grin still intact, but you notice something in the way his shoulders tense, the slightest hesitation in his movements. “I’ll manage.” he replies, a little too confidently, as if he’s trying to convince both you and himself.

There’s something about the way he says it, though—the way his jaw tightens just a little, the way his hands curl at his sides—that tells you he’s not entirely sure of himself. It’s the instinct of someone who’s used to standing alone, used to figuring things out in his own way. It’s also the instinct of someone who’s afraid of being seen as anything less than perfect.

“Alright,” you say with a knowing smile, unable to resist teasing him just a little. “But if you do get lost, I’ll be right here to help. Can’t promise I won’t make fun of you for it, though.”

Omar chuckles, a quiet self-awareness that lingers beneath the surface. “I won’t need that.” he says, his voice light and teasing, but you see the way his cheeks flush a little, the color creeping up his neck like a telltale sign. He’s not fooling you. 

You watch him carefully, noticing the way his posture straightens, his steps purposeful, yet unsure. And then, instead of turning right, where you’d directed him, he veers left, heading confidently down the middle of the hall towards the trophy room. 

You can’t help but laugh softly to yourself. 

"Hold on!" you call out, your voice light and teasing. "Didn’t you hear me? You’re supposed to head right. The locker room is the other way.” You push away from the desk and stand up, the heels of your shoes clicking on the floor as you make your way toward him, a playful smile tugging at your lips. 

Omar freezes mid-step, his body jerking just slightly, and then he turns slowly, his dark eyes meeting yours, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. His cheeks flush, and the awkwardness is palpable, but in that instant, he’s more human than anything else. 

“Oh, I misunderstood.” he admits, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “My bad.”

"Don’t worry," you say softly, the teasing lilt in your voice making it clear you’re not holding it against him. “It happens to the best of us. The walls here can be tricky.”

He chuckles, a quieter, more genuine sound now, and you notice how the tension seems to melt away from his shoulders. “Guess I was too caught up in my mind” he says with a half-shrug, the easy arrogance of earlier replaced with something more sincere.

“Yeah, that happens,” you reply, matching his pace. "But you’re going to want to pay attention to the signs, especially if you’re trying to avoid making a fool of yourself in front of the team. Good luck!”

Omar laughs and for the first time, you sense a little vulnerability behind that seemingly impenetrable exterior. "I’m sure they’ll forgive me. First day and all."

“First impressions are everything,” you tease, nudging him lightly with your shoulder as you walk. Your eyes meet, and for a heartbeat, there’s a spark there—a connection that neither of you acknowledges out loud, but it lingers between you, quiet and unspoken. “But lucky for you, I’ll make sure it’s a good one.”

As you approach the locker room, Omar’s steps slow, and he looks over at you with a smile. "Thanks. I guess I wasn’t as prepared as I thought.” he admits, his voice quieter now, the weight of his earlier bravado replaced by a touch of humility.

You give him slight shrug. "It’s no problem. The first day’s always the hardest. Besides, it's good to have someone show you around—no matter how much you think you’ve got it under control."

He looks at you one last time, and the expression on his face is a mixture of gratitude and something else, something more fleeting and harder to pinpoint. "I owe you one, I guess."

“No worries,” you reply, stepping aside to let him pass. “But you better keep that ego in check—next time, I won’t be here to bail you out.”

As the door swings closed behind him, you smile to yourself, the quiet satisfaction settling in your chest. He’ll fit right in here—he just doesn’t know it yet.

Guess first impressions do matter.

-       

Outside, the world was still drowsy, waiting for the sun to summon it into action. But inside the building, it had already begun. The soft rustle of movement—slightly muffled footsteps down the hall or the faint hum of the HVAC system sputtering to life.

You sat behind the reception desk, bathed in the amber glow of the early morning sunlight. The air was cool, with just enough crispness to make you feel awake but not rushed. The soft buzz of your computer, the shuffle of papers between your fingers—everything felt familiar, grounding. As if this quiet moment could stretch on forever, and you could lose yourself in it without fear. 

The door opened, a soft sigh of movement that cut through the stillness taking you from your thoughts. And there he was. Omar Marmoush. Just as he had been for the last few mornings—before anyone else, sometimes even before the coach. The space bent to his presence, the stillness rippling around him as if acknowledging that this was his moment, his time.

He donned his City kit, the fabric clinging to his broad shoulders, and the way it fit him—neat and purposeful—wasn’t just athletic, it was almost sculptural. His dark eyes caught yours instantly, as if your presence had always been part of the plan. 

"Good morning, Mr. Marmoush," you said, the words slipping out almost automatically. Your voice chirped the greeting that had become familiar over the last few days. 

"Good morning," He replied, his voice carrying the same smooth confidence as always. He lingered at the counter, his eyes studying you for a beat longer than usual, as if he were contemplating something.

You tilted your head, a small smile playing at your lips, the sparkle in your eyes sharp and knowing. "You’re up early like usual," you remarked, the words slightly mocking him. "Not many players are awake at this hour."

"I like the quiet," Omar said, his voice lowering, a touch of something more honest there. "Helps me focus. No distractions before the chaos begins."

You allowed yourself a soft smile, the corner of your mouth lifting in quiet acknowledgment. "I thought you liked the spotlight," you teased, your voice light, playful. "Doesn’t the chaos suit you?"

His smile returned, but it was more guarded now, a shield back in place. "I do," he said with a shrug, a flicker of mischief dancing in his eyes. "But sometimes, it’s good to step away from all that. Makes the work feel... more real, you know?"

You leaned back in your chair, the soft creak of the leather adding a sound to the stillness around you. "I get it," you said, your voice a touch softer now. "Still, not sure many people would show up before their boss just for a little peace and quiet."

His gaze held yours a moment longer, that familiar intensity flickering again, and you couldn’t help but feel the subtle challenge in it. "Some of us like to be ahead of the game," he said, his voice carrying the weight of something unspoken, something that suggested this wasn’t just about arriving early—it was about owning the moment.

You laughed. "Ahead of the game, huh? You sure you’re not just trying to make your teammates look bad?"

The challenge in his eyes deepened, and he leaned a little closer to the counter, the air between you suddenly feeling charged. "Someone’s got to set the standard," he said mischievously, yet the presence of sinceirty lingered in his words.

You shook your head, amusement dancing in your eyes. "Careful, Mr. Marmoush," you teased, your voice light but the words carrying more weight now. "If you keep showing up this early, soon you’ll be the one unlocking the building instead of me."

His lips quirked upward into a half-smirk, and he paused for a moment, letting the playful tension build between you. Then, his voice dropped just slightly, almost a whisper. "You know," he began, his gaze steady, locking with yours, "if you keep calling me that I’m going to start thinking I’m older than I am."

The warmth in your eyes sparked with a glint of mischief. "Well, I wasn’t sure how formal we should be," you said honestly. "You keep showing up so early, I wasn’t sure if you were going for the 'boss' vibe."

A rich chuckle escaped his lips, deep and amused, as if the idea of it pleased him more than it should. "A boss vibe, huh?" he repeated, his fingers tapping lightly against the counter as if the idea were something to be considered. "I don’t need a title to make an impression.” 

You chuckled as you shook your head in response.

"But, fine. If you want to keep calling me ‘Mr. Marmoush,’ I guess I can’t stop you." Then, his gaze held yours, intense and unyielding. "But I’m not going to stop asking you to drop the formalities," he added, a subtle challenge hidden beneath the smoothness of his words. "Plus, you can’t keep calling me that forever, eventually you will have to refer to me as 'Omar'."

Your heart skipped a beat, the air between you both charged with something more than just playful banter. "We’ll see, Mr. Marmoush," your tone playful.

-

The morning air outside had a crisp bite, carrying the first whispers of autumn through the open window. Soft beams filtered through the tall windows, stretching lazily across the floor and illuminating the dust particles that seemed to float like tiny stars suspended in time. It was a moment frozen in peace, a stillness that only the early mornings seemed to hold.

You were wrapped in the hum of the building, the rhythmic ticking of the clock like a heartbeat in the silence. The steady click of the pen in your hand created a symphony of concentration until the door opened. A gust of cool air slipped in, catching the edges of the papers on your desk. The familiar scent of his cologne—earthy with a hint of citrus, like rain on stone—suddenly filled the room, grounding you in the moment.

Omar stood in the doorway, his silhouette sharp against the glow of dawn. He wore a hoodie, the dark fabric a stark contrast against the warmth of the room. His eyes found yours almost instantly, and in that gaze, there was a quiet intensity, something that made the room feel smaller, more intimate.

"Early as usual, Mr. Marmoush," you said, your voice light but warm, a playful edge to your words. You couldn’t help but notice the way the corners of his mouth tugged upward in that half-smile that always made your heart race just a little faster.

"Of course, Good morning." Omar replied, his voice raspy due to the timing of the hour. 

You couldn’t help but watch as he moved, the way his fingers slid into the pockets of his hoodie, his thumb tapping absently against the fabric. His eyes never left yours, and it made your pulse quicken, a little unexpected warmth formed in your stomach. For a split second, everything around you faded—the ticking clock, the soft creak of the building settling, the hums of your laptop—and all that remained was him.

Omar leaned casually against the counter in front of you, his arms folded across his chest. His gaze lingered, sharp and steady, and yet there was a playful glint in his eyes that you couldn’t quite decipher. 

You tore your eyes away from him, focusing instead on the day’s schedule. Your fingers moved across the papers, steady and deliberate, though you were aware of every movement in the room. His presence filled the space like a slow-burning fire.

"Alright," you began, your speech was monotone despite the fluttering in your chest. "Mr. Guardiola wants the players to check their recovery schedules before heading to the locker room. He has something special planned for later in training, but health comes first."

Omar nodded, his gaze flicking briefly to the clipboard on the counter, the edges of the paper catching the light in a way that made the whole moment feel sharper, more defined. He seemed to be listening intently, but there was a glimmer in his eyes—something knowing, something that made you feel like he saw right through you.

"Got it," he said finally, his voice low. But then, as if he couldn’t resist, his lips curved into that maddening smirk. "Thanks, Qamari."

You froze, the word hanging in the air between you like a spark. Your fingers stilled mid-motion, and suddenly, it felt as though the room had grown smaller, quieter, like time itself was holding its breath.

"Qamari?" you echoed, your voice soft, hesitant. The way it sounded on your tongue felt foreign but… intimate, like something you shouldn’t want but did anyway.

He leaned a little closer, his grin never wavering. "It’s the nickname I decided to give you," he said, his tone as casual as if he were discussing the weather. "It fits, doesn’t it?"

You felt the heat creeping up your neck, blooming across your cheeks. "Oh really?" you asked, raising a skeptical brow. 

Omar’s expression softened, his teasing smile giving way to something quieter, something almost tender. "Yeah," he said simply. "It means ‘moon’ in Arabic. It’s common in Egypt, you know. A compliment for women with beauty so striking."

His words settled in the air between you like a gentle breeze, and you could feel them taking root in your chest, in your thoughts. The phrase lingered, and you found yourself feeling an odd sense of peace in it, as though the nickname fit in a way you couldn’t explain.

"Why don’t we just stick to the name on my badge?" you managed, trying to inject some playfulness into your tone to cover up the fact that your heart was practically racing out of your chest.

"Hmm." He rubbed his chin theatrically, his expression exaggerated as though he were deep in thought. "Nope. I’ll call you what I want since you refuse to call me Omar."

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. "But—"

"Nah," he interrupted smoothly, shaking his head with a teasing lilt in his voice. "Fair’s fair, right? You stick with 'Mr. Marmoush,' so I get to choose a name for you."

You leaned back in your chair, arms crossing in mock defiance, though the smile tugging at your lips was impossible to suppress. "That’s not how this works," you said, a faint chuckle betraying your stern expression.

He shrugged, the movement easy and unbothered. "I think it is," he said, his grin softening just enough to make it even more maddening, like he knew exactly how to press all the right buttons without ever trying.

Then, with a casualness that was almost infuriating, he reached for the schedule you’d so neatly laid out, his fingers brushing the paper followed by his shoes scuffing against the floor. 

"See you later, Qamari," he said, his voice orotund, the nickname sliding off his tongue with maddening ease. He started toward the lockers, his brows furrowed as he glanced down at his schedule.

"You can’t keep calling me that forever!" You called after him, your voice rising above the hum of the building, echoing down the corridor as if it were chasing him.

He paused for a brief moment, just enough to glance back over his shoulder. The grin he wore widened into something brighter, effortlessly charming and completely infuriating all at once. Then came the laugh—rich and full of mischief, the kind that made your stomach twist in ways you couldn’t quite explain.

Damn him.

You stared after him, your cheeks still flushed and your pulse betraying you. You already knew you’d lost this round. And worse—you weren’t entirely sure if you minded.

© gul4bjamoons 

[ebodebo]

Chasing The Mask

—red hood is on the hunt for the director and his accomplice, blueprint, gotham's most notourious art theives.

—red hood x art thief "blueprint!" reader

—2.5k+

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A heavy dew settles over the city, along with a light fall of freezing rain. It would almost be calming if you didn't know it was Gotham. One of the most crime-ridden cities in the world. Full of crooks and villains alike. 

Among the haze of rain and sleet, a vigilante sits perched on the top of one of the city's most renowned museums, The Metropolitan. The Red Hood, so he calls himself. While most nights he goes out into the night by himself, to his dismay, tonight he is accompanied by his heroine brother, Nightwing.

The Metropolitan is filled with some of the most exquisite pieces of art made by some highly famed artists, from Van Gogh to Basquiet. It is home to a most priceless collection, indeed. 

Of course, with such valuable pieces, the museum has been the target of numerous theft attempts, and tonight is no exception. 

"You didn't have to come," Red Hood snarkily says as he leans against the red brick encasing the rooftop exit door. 

"Just trynna' help out." The honesty in his voice makes Red Hood roll his eyes. He doesn't necessarily hate Nightwing but he thinks he's too smug for his own good. An entitled, know-it-all. But they are brothers, after all. So, there is a sense of undeniable care there. 

"I've got it taken care of." Red Hood counters, crossing his arms. His tone is almost defensive. Does Nightwing believe he can't catch a simple art thief? Like he's some kind of amateur?

"Is that right?" Nightwing questions, crossing his arms, too.

"Yes." Defensive, again. 

"Because, last time I checked, The Director and Blueprint are still running around Gotham." Nightwing accused. 

"Way to state the obvious, Dick." Red Hood enunciated his name. Dick was used to Hood using his name as a homonym, often. 

"I'm waiting." Hood finally answered his question after the insult. Nightwing let out a light laugh. "For what exactly?" He pushes, uncrossing his arms and walking over to the brick wall Hood was leaning on. 

"An opportunity," Hood stated as if it was the simplest thing in the world. "Jesus Christ, Jason." Nightwing pulled his hand up to wipe across his face, which was covered by a simple black domino mask. 

"This is exactly why I didn't want you to come, Dick." Hood sighed deeply. "Talk too much." He finished, uncrossing his arms.

"Sorry, I have-" Nightwing started, but Hood quickly interrupted.

"Wait, shut up," Hood stated, putting his pointer finger in the air.

"You're really starting to piss me off." Nightwing exhales, anger simmering off his body. 

"Dick, I'm serious," Hood says, turning his head to look around the roof. "You hear that?" He questions.

"Hear wha-?"

"Boys." Hood and Nightwing quickly turn to see Blueprint emerging behind the bricked rooftop door they were leaning on. 

"Blueprint," they simultaneously say. "What are you two doing here?" you ask, tilting your head. Nightwing is quick to respond. "We could ask you the same thing."

"A woman never reveals her secrets." You chirp, pointing your finger at both of them. You walk closer to them, smiling. "It's actually good to see you both." 

"Wish we could say the same." Hood finally speaks. His words are gruff and gray. You rapidly turn your head towards him. It felt weird seeing him like this. Not even thirty minutes ago, you were lying in the sanctity of his warm, cozy bed in a post-orgasmic haze. It wasn't like you and him were dating, but you shared a specific intimacy that wasn't common to either of you. 

Normally, you wouldn’t give boys like him the time of day. But, what can you say? He’s a great lay.

You did like him, sure, but this was strictly business. There should be no feelings involved in business.

"Blue?" Hood questioned, tilting his head to the side in confusion.

You shake your head, absolving you of your thoughts. "Would love to stay and chat, boys, but I have some paintings to tend to." Thanks to The Director, you swivel on your heel to head toward the rooftop exit door that's been propped open. 

"That won't be happening today," Nightwing spoke, pulling out his slick-black Escrima Sticks. 

You let out a smug laugh. "And I suppose you two are going to stop me?" You crossed your arms over your chest, tilting your head. 

"That's the plan," Hood said, pulling out his weaponry, which was tucked nicely in his jacket. 

You gave a nice, wide smile before pressing the button on the small metal capsule of a lead-lined smoke grenade that had been concealed in your hand, throwing it in front of them, unleashing a cloud of smoke that covered your being as you made your getaway.

"Bye-bye, batboys." You yelled to them as you sprinted to the ajar exit door and entered the museum's stairwell.

"Fuck." Hood says through coughs as the smoke forces its way deep into his lungs. Even with smoke filling his lungs, he's still quick to spring into action, following you inside the museum, with Nightwing following hot on his trail, coughing as well.

You flew down the steps. Skipping three, even four, steps at of time. When you turned around after you got inside, they weren't even behind you, still coughing and heaving on the smoke. It was a damn shame Jason was so tall because once you scaled the second staircase, you turned to see Jason beginning the second one. Your eyes widened under your mask at how swift he was. You turned and continued sprinting as fast as your legs could go.

You could faintly hear Hood and Nightwing yell at you to stop, but you pursued down the flights downstairs, reaching the last set of stairs. 

You scrambled up as Hood came unexpectedly close and almost grabbed your arm, but you managed to escape his grasp, holding the handle of the main door and slipping inside, slamming it in his face. You breathed a sigh of relief as your legs carried you over to where The Director AKA your dad was standing, holding an authentic Da Vinci portrait. 

"Nice job, Blue." Your dad remarked, referring to the diversion you created with the bats so he could slyly take the precious art without them interfering. Though slamming the door did make an excellent barrier, you had forgotten to arm the system back, so Hood and Nightwing forcefully pushed the door open. 

"You didn't arm the door system back?" Your dad hissed, looking down at you.

"I-shit." You cursed, turning to see Hood and Nightwing standing only a few feet from where you and your dad stood. 

"You really think you're going to get away with this?" Nightwing cockily questions, stretching his arms down with his sticks in each hand. 

The Director let out a deep, guttural laugh, causing you to spin your head to face him. "Don't you see? I already have," he declared, showing the painting in his hand.

"We could still take you out." Hood points out, his eyes on The Director, as his hand slides to reach for a gadget on his signature utility belt. Though, he couldn't feel anything. Did he seriously forget to bring it?

"How are you going to do that, Hood?" The Director challenged. "Don't have that shiny belt on, do you?" He questioned, gesturing to his waist.

Hood glanced at Nightwing. "You forgot your belt?" Nightwing questioned, disbelief coating his voice.

"I could have sworn-" Hood says before shaking the rest of the sentence off. "Whatever. I don't need it." He assures, assuming a fighting position.

It was honestly true. Hood was an incredible fighter. Watching him fight was astonishing. He could move his body in ways you didn't even know were humanly possible. But, you did not want to fight him. You just wanted to appease your father by helping obtain the painting, so you could all get the hell out of there.

"Get them." Your father demanded, looking down at you. You hesitated, looking up at your father. "Did you hear me? Get them." His words came out harsher than the first, showing his agitation. 

"Come on, Blue, we won't go that hard on you." Hood snarkily remarked, and you reached for his belt wrapped around your waist. You felt a weird sense of guilt as you covertly pulled out a Batarang.

"You just gonna stand there or-" Hood starts but is interrupted by the Batarang swinging right near the side of his head. 

"I actually think I'd like to play, Red." You mischievously say, running towards Nightwing, catching him a little off guard, and extending your leg to kick him in the stomach, pushing him back, as he holds his stomach.

"Come on, Red. I won't bite." You say, making your way over to him while Nightwing is still down. You let out a powerful punch, but he's quick to move his head to the side, dodging it. 

"Actually, I think you might." He says, grabbing your extended arm and twisting it so your body turns in the other direction. 

Nightwing makes his way up. "Well, that was easier than expected." He said, wiping his hands together.

"Because I did all of the work." Hood chimed, still with your arm twisted behind your back. Their banter made for a good distraction so that you could reach into the utility belt Jason mistakenly left at your house and grabbed a stun gun. 

You turned quickly, letting go of contact with him, as Hood talked, and pressed the tazer to his forearm. Although clothed, the powerful current still hit his skin, making him drop to the floor, convulsing.

"Wanna have some fun, Grayson?" You sarcastically ask as you step closer to him. He swings his sticks in front of him in a criss-crossed pattern. 

You take his silence as an answer. "I knew you were always the boring one." You sigh, holding up the stun gun.

"That's a bat-belt." Nightwing states casually, looking over at Hood, whose body is hunched over on the ground, still convulsing. 

"Aren't you just a genius? You sneered, carefully watching him. 

"How the hell did you get bat-belt?" Nightwing gruffly questions, eyeing your hand with the stun gun. You narrow your eyes at him. "Like I said before, a woman never reveals her secrets." You quickly move towards him, though he's not so off guard. Not like Hood was. 

However, unlike a taser, a stun gun does not shoot any projectiles, and it has to be held against a body or skin to do any damage. Nightwing was standing a few feet from you so the stun gun would do you no good. 

But, you don't even get a chance to use it because he's quick to knock the stun gun out of your hand and uses his stick to hit across the museum, a ways from any of you. 

"Ah, I get it," Nightwing says, letting his sticks rest on his side. You tilt your head to the side. "Get what?" You shouldn't be indulging him. You should be kicking his ass, but with Hood down, Nightwing wasn't going to be so much work. Plus, in between fighting them, your dad had slipped away, leaving you to do the damage control. 

"You got it from Jason, right? Well, stole." He dragged out the last word. 

"It's not really stealing if he leaves it in my apartment. Is it?" You retort smugly.

"Of course he did." As he finishes his sentence, you realize you two have been talking for a while. Well, in hindsight, in normal conversation, no, but this is supposed to be a fight, not a catch-up. Wait, I haven't heard Hood? Upon this epiphany, you turn to see an empty spot where Hood laid.

"Where-where did he go?" You stutter, deciphering when he could have left and how you didn't hear him.

"Oh, Jason?" Nightwing starts. "He left a while ago—once you turned around, actually." He coolly says this, sliding his sticks back on through the straps on the back of his suit.

This was a diversion, and you were stupid enough to fall for it. Shit, your dad is going to be so pis-

"Got em'," You hear Hood's voice echo off the walls as he walks in with your father, ropes tied around his hands and ankles, painting in hand. He handed him off to Nightwing as he placed the art back in its place.

You and Hood watched as Nightwing dragged him through the exit door you all came in through.

"So, heard you stole from me?" Hood tuts, shifting closer to you. 

"Like I said to your brother, it's not stealing if you leave it in my apartment." You retaliate, your throat drying as he moves closer.

"It's still mine." He's now standing right in front of you. You feel flustered at the proximity but cannot let it show. He would never let you live it down. 

"And I want it back," he casually says, his hands ghosting over your waist, housing the belt in question.

You look straight up at him. "Take it then." You swear you could hear him inhale deeply at your suggestive words, but you don't ask. 

His hands wander to the belt, hanging a little low on you. You swear he holds his fingers on the front part just to tease you, and if that was the goal, fuck, did he succeed. But you wouldn't tell him that. His ego is already huge. His fingers leave the front portion of the belt and continue dragging slowly along the sides until he reaches the back to unclasp it, and pull it off of you.

Once he steps back, you release a breath you didn't even know you were holding. "I would leave now." He suggests, wrapping the belt around his own waist. "You know, before the police get here."

"Okay." You felt like he had just put you under a spell. You are willingly agreeing with him. He can sense this, too, and smirks under his mask at your cooperation. 

"Night, Blue." He says as he turns to the rooftop top exit door, pushing it slightly.

"Goodnight, Red." You say, releasing a sigh of relief once he steps outside the door.

"Oh my God." You say to yourself. "That was-" You pause, taking a deep breath. "Do I like Red Hood?" You question, thinking. "No. Definitely not. It was nothing." You lie to yourself. You had only ever slept with the guy, so it just had to be the undeniable sexual tension between you two. That’s all. Right?

You thank God when you push open the rooftop door that Hood isn't hovering behind the door, listening to you essentially try to deny, and fail, expressing your feelings for him.

It is so nice for Hood that stairwells offer a safe place during storms, but they also offer space for a secret spot, just like the one Hood implemented into the walls of The Metropoliton some years ago.

He used to hide from criminals chasing him through the museum, which happened quite frequently, but now he was using it to simply make sure you left okay. But who knew it would double as a way to hear about your secret love confession? Certainly not him. 

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

[a-pute11as]

2 years later... - leila ouahabi

word count - 1.6k

warnings - none (i think ??)

you stood in the gym as you looked around at your surroundings, it was the last half an hour of a training session and your motivation to keep pushing through the endless list of exercise was dwindling away. resting your hands on your hips you huffed out, your chest heaving, figuring out what you were going to do next until your eyes scanned over to leila and laia. the two friends had been distracting you the entire time you were in the gym, you could hear their bubbling laughter throughout the gym, but your eyes were more focused on the view in front of you, specifically leila.

your eyes scanned leila, who was sitting on the exercise bike, her smile lighting up her face as her and laia continued to laugh. you looked as her long legs pushed the pedals, it seemed as if her muscles gained more definition the longer you kept looking, it was like she had a hold on you. it was impossible for your eyes to waiver, leading to laia’s eyes meeting yours and a smirk appearing across her face. 

your cheeks flushed red as you could see her mind turning. you and laia had a good relationship, playing at arsenal together had brought your friendship closer and meant that after a drunk conti cup celebration you confessed your attraction towards leila. she had promised she wouldn’t let leila know, but you also knew she’d do anything to bring her two close friends together. 

“chica, ven aqui”, laia shouted, calling you over. as you made your way towards the two friends you began mentally preparing yourself for what was about to happen. (girl come here)

“nenaaa, join us” leila smiled, referencing the bike that was free next to her. you smiled and climbed onto it. 

“i feel like i’ve barely seen you on this camp” leila admitted, causing you to laugh slightly.

“leila, camp started 2 days ago and we literally flew here together”

“claro que cari perooo, it feels like years” she shook her head, leila always had a very flirty demeaour, not that was ever a problem but the little nicknames had a stronger hold on you than you’d care to admit. (of course love but..)

you couldn’t help but laugh, you knew you had to play along, “do you really miss me that much lei?”

“everyday amor, especially when you’re in london and i’m so far away in manchester” you knew she was joking and yet you couldn’t help the blush that was creeping onto your cheeks. 

“maybe you need to come to london more” you slightly smirked, tilting your head, playing her at her own game

“is that an invitation?” leila asked, her eyebrows raising, you wanted to literally hand her your address but you thought that may be a bit too much. 

“oye leila, i invited you like two weeks ago and you said ‘es demasiado lejos’” laia interjected, mocking leila. (it’s too far away)

“es diferente cuando ella pregunta, sabes que” leila said, turning to laia and lowering her voice and speaking faster so you couldn’t hear as well. (it’s different when she asks, you know that)

“coño dile que te gusta” laia whispered back, “a ella también le gustas”. (pussy, tell her you like her. she likes you too)

your spanish wasn’t perfect which meant you couldn’t quite understand them when they spoke as fast as they typically did. your father was spanish, but your mother was english, spending only the first couple of years of your life in spain, before moving to england. having a dad that was trying to learn fluent english meant spanish was rarely spoken in your household. everytime you were back at camp the girls did their best to help you understand, but it rarely worked. 

“chicas, más despacio por favor, my spanish still isn’t very good” (girls, slower please)

“lo siento carino, laia is being annoying, as usual” leila said, turning her attention back to you with a smile. 

“she’s a really bad spanish teacher too” you giggled, causing laia’s jaw to drop in shock. 

she rolled her eyes at you, “maybe you’re a bad student”

“callate, estoy aprendiendo” (shut up, i’m learning)

“see, she is learning from somewhere, just not from you” leila laughed.

“you guys are so annoying, pueden dejar de coquetear entre ustedes ahora” laia huffed under her breath, before getting off the bike and walking away from you and leila. (you can stop flirting with each other now)

“she’s just annoyed that you like me more than her” leila said, a cheeky smile across her face as she winked at you.

you quickly laughed, trying to react as if it was a joke, knowing full well that was far from the truth.

there was a comfortable silence, the kind where there was no pressure to talk but a cheesy smile was still across both of your faces. you had seen leila a few times in between international break, unfortunately it had been in the presence of other people meaning you didn’t exactly get the alone time you desperately craved. 

“come for a walk with me later?” you said, probably sounding way too eager for such a simple question. 

“ask it in spanish and i’ll answer” she teased, causing you to roll your eyes. 

it took a minute for the sentence to form in your head, wanting to make sure you got it 100% right before asking, “ven a pasear conmigo, sólo tú y yo” you said, hesistantly. (come for a walk with me, just you and me)

“hmmmmmm” leila held her hand up to her chin, stroking her chin as if she was in deep thought, “maybe”.

“leilaaaaa, just give me an answer” the desperation was evident in your voice, yet it only spurred leila on, causing her to laugh at your reaction. 

“of course i will cari, it’s an honour” she smiled, clearly proud of the effect she had caused. 

you had finished up with your workout and had headed back to your room to shower before dinner, normally you’d throw on any combination of clothes to eat, but today it felt like there was an extra requirement to look somewhat put together. walking into the dinning hall, you did your usual dinner routine which consisted of grabbing the same bland food your teammates often made fun of you for, yet you always found a way to blame it on how english your upbringing was. 

you sat in your usual seat and before you knew it the seats surrounding you were full, you had pina on one side and alexia on the other, and luckily leila had found a seat across from you. 

“i heard you’re going on a walk with someone later” alexia muttered to you, quiet enough that only the two of you could hear. 

your eyes instantly widened, “how’d you find that out?” you whisper-shouted. 

“laia told me, apparently leila is very excited” she said, nudging your arm and raising her eyebrows repeatedly. 

“god she has such a big mouth” alexia was bound to find out either way, she was someone you could confide all your secrets too and you knew they’d stay with her. 

“i’m glad that something is happening finally, i’ve been trying to get you two together since i found out she was moving to manchester” 

“nothing is happening ale, it’s just a walk” 

“you two will at least kiss” pina leaned over, involving herself in the conversation. alexia nodded along with pina’s comment.

you shook your head disapprovingly, “i’m not telling you guys if anything happens”.

“hopefully we don't hear anything from either of your rooms” pina added, with a small giggle. your hand lightly met the back of her head as you slapped her for the comment she made, causing her to wince with a very loud ‘ow’ as she held the back of her head. you continued on with your meal, small conversations going on around you, yet you kept meeting leila’s eyes. 

you tried to stay focused until you felt leila’s foot drift up your calf, causing you to choke on your food slightly. “estás bien?” leila asked, a small smirk on her face. all you could do was nod in return as alexia patted your back. (are you okay?)

you finished your meal, making your way to the hotel lobby to wait for leila. it didn't take long until she was standing in front of you, “ready?” she asked. 

you stood up and began your walk, walking down to the beach that was only a few minutes from your hotel. you walked along the beach, your hands brushing against each other every so often as you talked about everything you could think of. pausing for a moment and sitting on a pile of rocks, you listened to the waves crashing against the shore and felt a similar wave of confidence take over you.

“i really enjoy spending time with you leila” you admitted, playing with your hands in your lap as you spoke.

“i feel so relaxed around you, cari” leila said, her hand now resting on your thigh. 

there were a few seconds of what felt like never ending silence before leila spoke, “i really like you, like i really really like you”. 

you looked over to her, your jaw slightly open as you processed her confession. 

“i understand if you don’t feel the same, i shouldn't hav-”

“of course i feel the same idiot, i’ve been thirsting over you for like 2 years” you laughed slightly.

“thank god, i was so nervous” leila smiled, “wait 2 years?” she questioned.

“i’m surprised laia didn’t tell you sooner, or even alexia”

“they knew before me? how did they even know that?” she asked. “ whatever, now i know, i think i deserve something for waiting”, her hand made it’s way to your jaw pulling you in closer to her. 

there was no hesitation as you leaned in allowing your lips to meet, it was everything you imagined it could be. you were finally kissing leila ouahabi and it only took 2 years of staring. 

a/n - might be in like 6 different tenses and filled with spelling mistakes, and translation mistakes, but enjoy xx

[zoyasribbon]

DOMESTIC DELIGHTS — r. dias

ೃ࿐ summary : The moments spent with your family, they are the most precious in your life, a pure delight that bring solace to your soul. And on this specific Sunday afternoon, this one, you are poised to savor every bit of it.

ೃ࿐ words : 0,7k.

ೃ࿐ genre : mature. fluff. suggestive.

ೃ࿐ warning : cute daughter-father moments, sexual tension.

ೃ࿐ author's note : Despite my deep disdain for Man City (while I do acknowledge Pep's genius football philosophy), I must confess—I find myself particularly attracted to some players... and a certain 6’2 Portuguese center-back has managed to steal my heart. Ugh, what can I sayyyyy, what can I sayyyyy.

You were drawn by the soft, deep chuckles emitted by your husband, guiding you towards the entrance of the living room, where you discreetly pushed the door ajar. 

There he was.

Rúben. 

Dressed in his black Puma sweatpants and a simple, white undershirt, he was doing push-ups with your little daughter perched on his broad, muscular back. Her cheerful, high-pitched voice counted his progress as he effortlessly raised and lowered his body multiple times. You observed them tenderly: the pure joy and trust of your child blending with Rúben's extraordinary strength and patience. Home.

If he noticed you leaning against the doorframe, he said nothing... and you couldn’t help but admire his new three-day stubble beard, a bit more developed than usual, complementing his charming face. 

Suddenly, he twisted to one side, landing on the floor while effortlessly lifting your excited little girl with his sturdy arms before gently placing her on his firm stomach. A timid chuckle escaped your lips at this heartwarming sight. But this gesture didn't deter him from maintaining a somewhat intense gaze that met yours, igniting a fire within you.

"Go play in the garden, princesa. I'll do a few more and then join you," he murmured, planting a tender kiss on her forehead. As his words prompted her to dash out of the room, flashing you a mischievous smile in passing, the room fell into an almost oppressive silence. Only Rúben's erratic breathing and the sudden accelerated beats of your heart seemed to animate the space. 

He eventually raised himself from the floor, taking his sweet time to stand, his brown eyes never leaving your burning gaze for a second. 

Rúben's smile took on a different shade as he crossed the room to approach you, leaving only a few brief inches between you. His arms, marked by the effort, found support on the wooden doorframe, not far from your head, asserting his dominance in height. 

In the depth of his gaze, you discerned the glint of a tantalizing promise.

"You didn't have to stop, you know?" you innocently scolded, letting your right hand wander from his neck, to his left flank and to his hip. You made sure your nails lightly grazed his skin through the thin white fabric, intending for him to feel your provocation. As you did, you sensed a trickle of sweat dampening his shirt, clinging to his still-toned abs, evidence of his numerous push-ups. 

In just a few seconds, his body responded. Engulfed in goosebumps that hinted at desire, Rúben's eyelids trembled, and his Adam's apple bobbed. Though your line of sight didn't reveal it, you were certain that his fingers fervently clutched the doorframe, evidenced by the emerging veins on his glistening shoulders. 

He was on the verge of losing control. The mere thought elevated the corner of your lips into a sly smile, concealing the pleasure you took in this little teasing game. You must admit, you were very in the mood to play today. After all, Rúben simply had no business being so sexy on this delightful spring afternoon. 

Your right hand, still placed on his hip, dared to venture even further beneath the fabric of his black tracksuit to bring him even more closer to you and explore the skin of his lower back and his firm bottom, leading him to open his mouth slightly, letting out a timid gasp. 

Unable to resist the excruciating slowness of your caresses, he leaned forward, daring “Why? Do you want to keep watching?” he managed to inquire with an innocent tone, though mischief lingered within. 

His alluring, plump lips so close to yours beckoned, yet you resisted the temptation they promised... at least for the moment. You knew what he expected from you at this moment, but you just wouldn't comply. You were far too determined to win this battle. 

Nevertheless, the warm breath escaping his mouth was enough to slightly distract you. In that moment, you even forgot your somewhat disheveled appearance—your hair was in a messy bun, and you still had your apron on, still warm from the breath of the oven you had opened to check the crumb-topped salmon you were preparing. 

This seemed not to bother Rúben, whose gaze remained just as fiery and thirsty. His fingers sought revenge, gently sweeping aside a loose strand of hair that had fallen during your observation, trailing across your cheek, your neck, before finally resting on your nape. Then his entire hand delicately settled upon it. Your eyes were nearly completely mesmerized by the movement of his lips. Ruben's voice became huskier and smoother. “Or maybe you want a turn too."

[libraryofloveletters]

Hallways Hold Our Secrets

Jack Grealish x Fem!Reader

Warnings: reader is rodri's sister, secret relationships, jack is sooo nervous, they're terrible at hiding their relationship, big brother!rodri, awkward family dinners, alcohol and the consumption of, some cheekiness from jack and some brotherly teasing from rodri.

Word Count: 3.9k

Author's Note: I cannot believe it took me so long to write jack. also shout out to pooks for the basis of this idea + this gif has literally nothing to do with the fic. jack is just sexy that's all (also look at my other mans in the corner even tho I be wanting to beat him up sometimes)

---

The message pops up on the top right corner of your laptop, you're certain it appeared on your phone as well but you're hoping he doesn't notice it.

Can I call you?

You click on it, typing back a response; I'm with him. Can it wait?

His reply comes just as fast; Just for a minute, I wanna hear your voice.

You shut the laptop, leaving it on the kitchen table. "Just gonna borrow this for a minute," you tell your brother as you grab your phone off the counter; he had been using it to get the recipe for dinner tonight since his was charging.

Rodri smiles, nodding. "Sure."

You disappeared around the corner, clicking the contact that frequents your call log. It barely got rang twice before he answered.

"Hi love," he sighs, as if he had dropped down to the couch. You smiled to yourself, leaning on the wall in the hallway. "Hi you."

"I miss you," he says, the words tugging on your heart. You could imagine the pout on his lips; coincidentally, also his favourite pose when he takes selfies.

"I saw you today, Jack." Your response comes out as a whisper, not wanting to be overheard.

"I know, is a man not allowed to miss his girlfriend?"

Once again, his words bring a smile to your face; girlfriend. That's what you were, even if it was a secret.

"You are," you smile.

Jack sighs, picking at his cuticle before he speaks again. "I wish you were here, I could use the company."

Man City had faced their first loss in a while. After being on a winning streak and the return from the treble winning season, this one hit them especially hard. To lose at home was even worse, it dug into them, rightfully so.

All of the boys were in a bad mood, Pep digging into them about what went wrong didn't help either. You had waited outside of the locker room in hopes of catching a quick moment with your boyfriend but he walked out with your brother who was more than ready to leave.

"Hermanita! Come taste this!" Rodri shouts from the kitchen and you sigh. "Me too, but another time, okay? I have to go."

"Yeah," Jack sighs, "I love you."

"Me too," you smile, hanging up before slipping your phone into your pocket. You walked into the kitchen, a smile on your face as your brother held the spoon out to you.

You tasted it, nodding. "It's good, needs a bit more pepper though."

"I thought so too," he nods in agreement, adding the rest of the chopped peppers that were sitting on the counter. "Where'd you go?" He asks as you return to your spot at the kitchen table.

"Needed my hair tie," you fib and his brows furrow. Your heart pounds in your chest when you notice his look, praying he didn't over hear your conversation. At the moment, it didn't occur to you that you had taken your phone with you and your lie made no sense.

"Your hair is untied."

"Yeah," you nod, "I couldn't find one."

Rodri nods, dismissing your words as he goes back to dinner, trying to finish up the last of it. Eventually he joins you at the table, your brother sits across from you, picking at the leftover pasta on his plate. "So, are you seeing someone ?"

You freeze, nearly choking on your juice. "What? Why would you ask me that?" You rubbed at your chest, looking at him with what you were certain was a confused look.

He shrugs, stabbing a piece of pasta. "You're 25, done university.. just seems like time to move on."

Your brother's displeasure with the last guy you dated was not something that he hid very well. He was a grade A douchebag, snotty and stuck up; when you look back, you wondered how you put up with all of his nonsense. You two dated from your second year of university up until right before your graduation.

During your last semester of university, you had taken a week off and came down to visit your big brother in Manchester. The break up was getting to you and it seems like everything around was a constant reminder of your wretched ex.

Rodri had taken you along with him to one of their home games, having you watch what your big brother does up from the stands as if you were 12 again, and afterwards you had gone down to find him and meet some of his teammates.

That was the first time you met Jack.

The two of you clicked instantly; a match made in heaven. From your personalities, to your sense of humour, to the way you dress and down to the way you texted were identical. You suited each other to a T.

It seems you two figured out as much as you went from not knowing each other to speaking every single day after you left Manchester.

Your older brother was aware that you and Jack were friends, but he didn't think much of it. He saw that you got along with quite a few of his teammates, which made him very happy.

What he didn't know was that you and Jack were more than friends.

Jack had come down to visit you during one of your off weeks. He didn't mention it to Rodri nor did you. The two of you decided that it would be your little secret until you've finished university and you can decide what to do from there.

It was just easier this way, there weren't any complications or strings attached if you decided to split up at the end of your semester.

You didn't realize that you'd find yourself in Manchester nor did you expect to fall in love with the midfielder so quickly.

Nodding, you clear your throat. "I will."

"I'm just happy you're over him, he was shit." Rodri says, clearing the table. You can't help the laugh that you let out, leaning back in your chair.

---

Match day; your favourite day.

The Etihad was full from top to bottom, the crowd cheering their names, hoping that the team brings home a win. To nobody's surprise, they managed to bring home a win and four points.

You had gone down, waiting for your brother as they got cleaned up after the game. You were taking a photo of their treble wall, all the photos of them smiling and celebrating with their trophies.

The familiar scent of his cologne makes you smile, you can hear his footsteps and you figure he'll appear next to you, not pinch your hip and scare you.

"Dude!" You jumped, swatting his hands away. Your boyfriend smiles, his arms around your waist, pulling you into him.

"It's just me, relax," he whispers, chin on your shoulder. As the words leave his mouth, you melt against him; you can feel the warmth from his body, the mix of cologne trying to mask the sweat from 90 minutes on a pitch usually disgusted you but with him, it was tolerable.

Jack spoke, pulling you from your thoughts. "What are you doing out here?"

"Taking a picture," you lifted your phone to show him, flipping the camera to take a photo of the two of you. Both you and Jack make his favourite face; that duck face and then another one with you two smiling, and one more of him kissing your cheek.

His fingers mindlessly drumming against your stomach, looking at the photos on the wall when you snapped back to reality.

You weren't in your little bubble of safety with him; anyone could see you, your brother could see you.

It seemed unreal that you were 25 and still sneaking around, hiding your relationship from your big brother but it would be easier if you weren't dating his teammate.

You stepped away from Jack abruptly, the man's brows pulled together and there's a confused look on his face. "What's wrong?"

"Someone could see us," you step further away, creating some distance from the two of you. Jack looked even more puzzled than he did before.

"And that would be the worst thing because.." He trails off, looking at you. You roll your eyes, leaning on the wall as you look at him. "You know, 10 would look much better on you." He nods towards your jersey, there's a cheeky grin on his face and you roll your eyes yet again.

You had worn your brother's jersey, as you do most match days. "16 looks perfectly fine on me, thank you for your input."

"You'd look sexy in a plastic bag, babe. Just saying 10 would be better on you."

You don't get a chance to answer, your big brother comes around the corner. His hand rests on Jack's shoulder, patting it firmly before slinging it over his shoulder.

"What's going on here?" Rodri looks between you two and you shake your head. "Just saying hello to your sister," Jack says, smiling at his teammate.

Rodri hums, nodding as he glances between the two of you. "Did y/n ever tell you about that chocolate cake she makes?"

"No," Jack shook his head, "I don't think so." - A total lie. Jack has had that cake so many times before and you had even gone as far as giving him the recipe, which was a secret.

"Why don't you come over for dinner tomorrow? I'm sure y/n won't mind making it, would you?"

You shrug, "yeah I don't mind, but I'm sure Jack has plans."

You glance between your brother and boyfriend, wondering what the sudden dinner invite was about. It wasn't that Rodri and Jack didn't get along, because they did. It just struck you as odd because it's not one of the guys Rodri typically hangs out with outside of work related events.

"I don't," Jack smiles at you. "I'd be more than happy to come over. Should I bring something?"

"No, man. Don't worry about that, come over for 8."

"Sounds good," Jack nods, smiling as he walks off.

You look at your brother, arms folded over your chest. Your eyes narrowed on the man, trying to figure out his motive. "What was that?"

"What was what?" Rodri asks and you nod towards Jack. "The dinner invite."

"I can't invite my teammate to dinner?" Rodri's brows furrow, looking back at you.

"You can. Just find it odd, considering that you and Jack aren't close like that."

He shrugs, "just felt like having some company over. Other than your ugly face of course." There's a smile on his face as he looks at you. You pinch his side, the man pulling you into a headlock as you two walk down the hallway.

---

Shirt covered in butter, flour and eggs and you had finally put the cake into the oven to bake. Your phone buzzes once on the counter as you tidy up. It buzzes again, then again and again.

Finally, you set the rag down and walk over to check who it was.

From Jack: Babe!!!

From Jack: I'm freaking out bro

From Jack: I don't know what to wear

From Jack: *1 Image Attachment* Should I wear this??

The series of messages left you confused, as did his outfit choice. Jack had sent you a photo of the ugliest Gucci shirt he owned and there were quite a few of them in his closet.

To Jack: That is the ugliest shirt I've seen in my life.

From Jack: That's fucking rude

To Jack: Also why are you freaking out?? It's just dinner.

From Jack: Can you please just come help me??

To Jack: I have a cake in the oven

From Jack: So ??? Please come. It's an emergency.

You sigh, walking down the hallway to your brother's room. You knocked, waiting for them to answer before you peek into the room.

"I ran out of sugar and I need it for the icing. I'm gonna run to the store, can you keep an eye on the cake? It's got a timer running so just take it out when it's done."

Rodri nods, trying to make up his bed "Sure, don't be too long. It's almost 7."

"Yeah, I'll be back soon." You picked up his car keys off of his dresser. "Love you!" You called as you walked out of the room.

"Drive safely!" He shouts back and the front door slams shut.

It was a 15 minute drive to Jack's place, the elevator ride up felt like longer and you tumbled through your purse to find the key Jack had given you to his apartment.

"Where are you?!" You shout, setting your bag on the table, kicking your shoes off.

"Bathroom!" He calls back and you find your way to the bathroom. Jack's back was to you, shirtless and quite tanned for a guy living in Manchester. You find yourself leaning on the wall, watching as your boyfriend tumbled through one of the drawers for something.

Jack chuckles, "I can feel you staring."

"So?" you smiled at him when he turned to face you. "I can't stay long, so what do you need help with?"

He walks over to you, his arm looping around your waist. "I can't kiss my girl hello?" He asks, leaning into you. His cologne overpowering any other scent, the familiar smell made your head spin.

"You can," you smiled, holding his jaw gently as you kissed him. "Okay come on though, let's pick something out." You hold his hand, pulling him back to his bedroom.

Jack sits on the bed, watching as you search through the closet for something for him to wear. "I really don't understand why you're so freaked out for dinner. You've had dinner with Rodri before, haven't you?"

"Yeah, but at work stuff. This is different."

"How so?" You set a few choices on the bed. "I'm sure he's gonna be in sweats, Jack. No need to stress yourself out."

Jack looks over at you, "yeah but he invited me to his house. You're my girlfriend and he's your big brother. Even if he doesn't know, I want to make a good impression."

"That's sweet, now put this on." You smiled, handing him a forest green short sleeved button up you pulled out of the depths of his closet.

While Jack was getting ready, you searched through the drawers for a shopping bag you were sure he had left around. When you found out, you tumbled through his cupboards for a bag of icing sugar you knew you had left there and then you opened the fridge to get the butter.

"What are you doing?" Jack asks, appearing in the doorway.

"I told Rodri I was going to the store, I can't go back empty handed."

"So that means you need to take my butter?" He looks at you confused, fixing the sleeves of his shirt. You nodded, smiling at him as you walked to the door.

Jack follows behind you, watching as you put your shoes back on. "I've seen your bank account, you can afford to buy another tub of butter," you patted his chest, giving him a quick kiss before heading out.

When you returned home, the house was quiet. "Rod?" You called, walking into the kitchen to see your cakes on the stove cooling and the back door was open.

"Hey," your brother stepped back inside. "You're back."

"What's going on? " You look at him confused. "Why were you outside?"

"I figured we could eat outside tonight, it's nice out."

"Okay then," you turn your attention to your cake, starting on the icing. "Did you get everything you needed?" Rodri asks, scooping some icing up on his finger.

You smack his arm, the man smiles and sticks his finger in his mouth to taste the frosting. "I did."

"Okay, I'm gonna go take a shower." He kisses your cheek, walking off towards the bathroom. You rolled your eyes at your brother's theatrics and finished up on your cake, frosting it and sticking it in the fridge for the time being.

By the time you finished tidying up and setting up the last of what was needed for dinner, it was a few minutes to 8 o'clock. Rodri finds his way back to the kitchen in slacks and a polo shirt.

"You're dressed up," you glance in his direction, setting the last glass into the dish rack. "We have company coming, I'm not gonna eat dinner in sweatpants, y/n."

You chuckled, remembering what you had told Jack earlier. "Okay whatever you say."

The doorbell rings, Rodri makes his way over to open it and let Jack in. The two of them made small talk in the entryway as you wiped your hands on the kitchen towel. Upon finding the men, you realized both of them were far too dressed up for you to be in sweatpants.

"I see I'm undressed." You announced, making your presence known.

"Hi y/n," Jack smiles at you, handing the bottle of wine over to Rodri.

"Hi Jack," you smiled back at him, as if you hadn't seen him 40 minutes ago. "I'm going to go change, I'll meet you guys outside."

You left them to make their way outside while you attempted to pull together an outfit as quickly as possible. You pulled your hair out of the falling apart ponytail it was in and put on a sundress before making your way outside.

"Wine?" Rodri asks, after pouring some into Jack's glass. "Yeah, please." You smile at your brother, sitting in the chair that was on the left; between Jack and Rodri who were across from each other.

Dinner was quiet, the 3 of you chatting about life, football, the upcoming matches, your plans come the fall. Rodri lets you and Jack speak, it's like you had forgotten he was there altogether; it didn't take a scientist to see the chemistry between you two.

You and Jack were comfortable in each other's space, joking around like you had known each other for years, the type of thing you'd only see with a couple.

After dinner wrapped up, you cleared the table and brought the cake out. You cut three pieces, handing them over to the boys before sitting down and taking your own piece.

Rodri takes a bite, looking over at his teammate who does the same. "How is it?" He asks Jack.

The man nods, "good, it's great." He smiles at you and you return the gesture, taking a bite from your own piece.

Rodri nods, the fork in between his fingers as he points between you and Jack. "So.. how long has this been going on?"

You coughed, rubbing your chest after you almost choked on your cake. Jack on the other was completely pale, as if all the blood had drained from his body.

He starts, glancing between you and Rodri, unsure what to say. "Wh-uh.. what are you talking about?"

Rodri rolls his eyes, as if Jack thought he was stupid. He knew the two of you were seeing each other, it was painfully obvious. He had a suspicion and tonight's dinner was either going to make or break the thought. It just slapped a big old confirmed stamp on the two of you.

"I'm not blind, you know. I do pay attention, even when you think I'm not." Rodri says, looking over at you with an accusatory look on his face. You bite back a shy smile, lips pressed together as you look away from your older brother. "Plus, your bedroom is next to mine, y/n. Having him on speaker all night isn't exactly the slickest way of hiding a relationship."

You and Jack chuckled, looking at each other. "It's not that we didn't want to tell you-" "It was y/n's idea not to tell you." Jack butts in, throwing you under the bus so to speak.

"Shut up!" You groan, shaking your head. "As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted," you glance in the direction of your boyfriend. "I just wanted to see where it goes, if I'd stay in Manchester or not."

"And are you?" Rodri asks.

You take a moment to think, nodding. "Yeah, I think I will be."

"Good," your brother reaches over, patting your hand. "Does he treat you well?"

You rolled your eyes at his cliché question but you nod. "He does."

Rodri turns his attention to Jack. "If you hurt her, I'll hurt you." He tells his teammate, earning a laugh from Jack but you look at your boyfriend. "No, he will and I'll let him."

"Oh..." Jack looks between the siblings, jaw hanging open a bit. "Okay then."

The rest of the evening was quiet, you two gave Rodri a few details from your relationship, how long you'd be together and a few other things like that before you took the cake back inside.

Jack had gone to the bathroom and your brother finds you cutting another slice of the cake, putting it into a Tupperware bowl in the kitchen. "What are you doing?" He looks at you, confused.

You return the look, "packing a piece of cake for Jack? There's more than enough, Rod. You can have more tomorrow." You chuckled, putting the bowl into a bag.

"I don't think your clothes are gonna fit in there," Rodri tells you, leaning on the counter. You look at your brother, confusion all over your face. "What are you talking about, dude?"

"Go pack your bag."

"Are you kicking me out? I thought you were cool with-" "No dummy, I'm telling you to go spend the night with your boyfriend."

"Oh!" You laughed, walking over to give your brother a hug. "You're really okay with me dating him?"

"Would he have been my first choice? No, I thought you'd date a doctor or something boring like that but as long as you're happy and he treats you well, I'm 100% behind it."

"Okay," you smiled, kissing his cheek before running off to your room.

Jack and Rodri were in the entryway, your bag tossed over your shoulder as you skipped down the hallway towards them. Jack reaches for your bag, taking it from you.

"Thanks man," Jack nods at his teammate, Rodri smiles at him. "Anytime, take care of her, yeah? Drive carefully please."

"I'm a fantastic driver," Jack says, and you and Rodri exchange a look before laughing. Jack rolls his eyes, already knowing what you two were thinking. You hugged your brother once more, saying goodnight to him before heading down the driveway with him.

Once you were in the car, Jack looked over at you with a cheeky smile on his face. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"Shut up," you smiled, reaching over to hold his hand.

--

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