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woso-scotland · 11 hours ago

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Echoes of Us - From the Broken Vows series

The alarm shatters the silence, yanking you from restless sleep. It cuts deep, burrowing into your skull, dragging you into the kind of morning that already feels too heavy.

You groan, rolling onto your side. The sheets beneath your fingers are cold.

Cold. Empty.

Your stomach knots.

Three months.

You should be used to it by now, the way her absence has settled into the mattress, into the quiet of the house, into you. But some things don’t fade. They just change, reshaping themselves into something dull and persistent, like an ache in a muscle you’ve learned to ignore.

With a sharp exhale, you push yourself upright. Your temples throb, the headache spreading like ink beneath your skull. Too much wine. Again. It lingers in your mouth, dry and bitter.

The house is still. Too still.

No footsteps. No distant hum of a shower running. No sound of a voice calling your name from the kitchen, teasing and warm, already making plans for the day.

You move slowly, feet bare against the cool floor as you shuffle downstairs. The air smells faintly of lavender—leftover from the candle you forgot to blow out last night—but it’s empty otherwise. No trace of her.

Your pajama top hangs loosely over your frame, one sleeve slipping down your shoulder as step in the kitchen. The dim morning light filters through the windows, catching the edges of the marble counters, the gleaming faucet, Alexia’s untouched mug still sitting on the top shelf.

You don’t bother moving it. Not yet.

Instead, you go through the motions.

Yogurt and fruit for Iris. A smoothie for Nora. Coffee for yourself—black. You pour it slowly, watching the steam curl toward the ceiling, inhaling the scent. Dark. Sharp.

It used to be comforting.

Now it’s just… routine.

The silence presses in, thick and suffocating.

Until—

A door upstairs slams.

You barely brace yourself before—

"MOM!"

Nora bursts into the kitchen, all limbs and urgency, her hair an absolute disaster, her socks mismatched, her Barcelona shorts twisted at the waistband. She’s already mid-sentence, words tumbling over each other like they can’t wait to get out.

"Did you wash my shin guards? Because last time you forgot, and Coach said—"

"Yes, Nora," you interrupt, rubbing your temple. "They’re in your bag."

She doesn’t even acknowledge it, already laser-focused on the iPad waiting on the counter.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

You don’t need to ask who she’s calling.

The familiar ringing fills the space.

You stir your eggs, pretending this doesn’t feel like a tiny betrayal.

A soft shuffle behind you. Small, hesitant steps. Iris stands at the edge of the room, drowning in her pajamas, hair wild from sleep. She blinks at you, fists rubbing at her sleepy eyes, quiet and expectant.

You set the spoon down and walk toward her. Bend low, arms open. She melts into you immediately.

Warm. Small. Yours.

You scoop her up, feel her settle against you, feel the soft sigh she exhales into the crook of your shoulder. She clings, tiny fingers curled in your shirt, the way she always does when she doesn’t want something—just wants you.

Then—

"Hola, mi bebé."

Alexia’s voice filters through the speaker.

"MAMAAAA!"

Nora practically vibrates with excitement, her feet kicking beneath the counter as she grins into the screen.

"Are you coming to my game today?"

"I’ll try, bebé," she says, voice smooth, careful. "Mom has a game too, and it might run late."

A scoff escapes before you can stop it. Loud. Unmistakable.

Alexia hears it.

Her gaze flickers.

"Is your mom there?"

"She is, Mama. You could come later."

A pause. A hesitation.

"I’ll try to make it to the game. If not, I’ll come over. Can I talk to Mom?"

Nora doesn’t wait for your answer before shoving the iPad toward you.

And there she is. Staring at you through the screen.

Alexia’s face is unreadable. Hair tied back, skin still glistening from practice, her Barcelona kit clinging to her like it was made for her. The sweat along her collarbone catches the morning light.

She looks too good.

Your fingers tighten around the device.

"Hi," you manage, careful.

"Hi," Alexia replies, just as careful. Her eyes flicker, scanning your face, the tired set of your mouth.

"How are you, baby?"

That word.

Baby.

"Fine."

She nods. "I’m good too."

Didn’t ask, Alexia.

You shift, pressing your lips to Iris’s hair. “Aren’t you going to say hi to Mama, baby?”

Iris hesitates. Then—quietly, almost imperceptibly—shrinks further into you.

Alexia’s jaw tightens.

"I’ll try to make it up to her later."

You let out a short breath, sharp and cold. "If you come."

It slips out before you can stop it.

Alexia flinches.

Nora, oblivious, barrels ahead. "Mommy, can we have ice cream? Or pizza?"

"I’ll see, okay, bebé?"

"Okay. Te amo mucho."

"Te amo mucho también."

The call ends.

Nora launches into a ramble about the game—how Coach Ellison, the new coach, says headers are important, how she thinks she might finally be better than Cleo, how Ellison is so cool—

"Did you know she played in the US? And she knows like, everything? Like, the other day she told us—"

You tune her out.

Your mind is still stuck on Alexia.

Her games don’t run that late.

Maybe she just doesn’t want to come.

And Eva—

You told her to fire her. Begged her.

Did she?

Iris sniffs, curling further into your chest.

Then—suddenly—she’s crying.

Quiet. But certain.

You press a kiss to her temple, breathing her in.

"You wanna come to Nora’s game, baby?"

A tiny nod.

That’s settled.

A few hours pass in a blur of routine. You braid Nora’s hair the way she likes it—tight, neat, not a single strand out of place. She’s always particular about that. Her uniform is crisp, cleats laced tight. She bounces on the balls of her feet as you double-check her bag.

Iris is easier. A quick change into something warm enough for the cooling afternoon, a light jacket zipped up, curls tamed as best as they can be. She lets you fuss over her, still slow with sleep, still attached to your side.

By the time you pull up to the field, the sun hangs lower in the sky, stretching golden light over the grass.

Nora doesn’t wait.

The second the car door unlocks, she’s off. Legs pumping, sprinting like she’s playing a Champions League final.

You shake your head.

"Nora, chill. This is not the World Cup."

She barely glances back, waving you off as she dashes toward her team.

You sigh, adjusting Iris against your hip as you shut the car door.

The field is already packed—kids warming up, parents scattered across the sidelines, the familiar buzz of pre-game energy in the air.

Your eyes skim the crowd and land on Evelyn.

Nora’s best friend’s mom.

Tall. Blonde. Dressed like she has nowhere better to be than a luxury brunch.

And already waving dramatically in your direction.

“Hiiiiiiii, girl.”

You brace yourself.

Evelyn is always a lot. Always talking too loud, always in everyone’s business. But at least she’s nice. And—most importantly—you can trust her.

She gives you a once-over, letting out a low whistle. “Damn, you always look so put together. I swear, if I had two kids and your drama, I’d be out here in sweatpants every day.”

You huff out a short laugh. “Tempting.”

"How are you?"

"So good. I need to update you on everything happening at school. The drama, the mess, the PTA fights—"

You tilt your head, amused. “Sounds fun.”

“Oh, it is.” She smirks, then eyes you curiously. “And you? How are you?”

The way she says it tells you she knows exactly what she’s asking.

You keep your answer simple. “Good too.”

Iris starts to sniff, rubbing her face against your shoulder. You adjust your grip, bouncing her lightly.

"I’m grabbing a seat. Catch up later?"

Evelyn waves you off. “Yeah, I’ll find you.”

You weave through the crowd, eyes scanning for an open spot near the front. The metal bleachers are cold beneath you when you settle down, Iris shifting in your lap, the scent of fresh-cut grass thick in the air.

The whistle blows.

The game starts fast.

The sounds wrap around you—shouts, quick commands, the rhythmic thud of the ball against cleats.

Nora is electric. Sharp, quick, precise. The way she moves—the confidence in it—makes something swell in your chest.

She scores twice.

Arms flung into the air, face split into a blinding grin.

Iris watches, eyes wide, tiny hands gripping your shirt. She doesn’t say much, just absorbs it all, a quiet kind of awe settling over her. But when Nora scores, she claps—small hands smacking together, face lighting up like she understands, like she knows.

You press a kiss to her temple.

The final whistle cuts through the air.

A wave of cheers follows, kids scattering across the field, their leftover adrenaline pushing them in every direction.

Iris tugs at your hand, shifting from foot to foot.

You smooth a hand over her hair. “You did so good sitting through that, baby. Did you like it?”

She shrugs, watching Nora dart between her teammates, glowing with victory. Then—hesitantly—she nods.

You smile.

Small victories.

The game is over, but the kids are still on the field, running wild, their laughter cutting through the crisp evening air. The sky is painted in soft hues of orange and pink, the last traces of daylight stretching thin over the horizon.

Parents linger by the bleachers, chatting in loose circles, but you make your way down toward the field, scanning for Nora.

“Nora,” you call, spotting her darting across the grass with Evelyn’s daughter. “Come on, baby, we need to go.”

She groans dramatically, slowing to a jog, hair wild from the game, cheeks flushed with exertion. “One more minute?” she pleads, breathless.

Before you can answer, Evelyn materializes at your side.

"You need to meet the new coach," she says, eyes gleaming. "Did you see her?"

"Nora mentioned her."

Evelyn tsks, looping her arm through yours. "That’s why I love you. You never know what’s going on."

Then she smirks.

"Look, there she is."

Your gaze flickers toward the sideline.

And there she is.

Coach Ellison.

Tall. Sharp features. Green eyes that cut through distance. A blue baseball cap shading her face, but not enough to hide the way her mouth quirks at the corners.

Your breath catches.

"Okay," you murmur.

Evelyn snorts. "Okay? That’s all?"

“She’s the coach.”

“Yeah, right. She can coach me any day of the week.”

You shake your head, adjusting Iris as she starts to squirm. “I should grab Nora.”

But before you can move, Evelyn’s grip tightens. "Oh! Wait. You should meet her."

You frown. "Eve—"

Too late.

Ellison turns just as you stop in front of her. Her gaze flicks between you and Evelyn, something unreadable passing through her expression.

Evelyn grins. "Coach, this is Nora’s mom."

Ellison’s eyes lock onto yours.

She smiles.

Not polite. Not empty.

Something else.

"Nice to meet you," she says smoothly.

Your fingers twitch.

"You too."

Her gaze flicks over you—quick, unassuming, but enough.

"Nora adores you."

A smirk tugs at her lips.

"Oh? Good to know I’m doing something right."

Your lips twitch.

Then—

"She’s single, by the way," Evelyn throws in, casual as a grenade.

Your stomach drops.

"No, I’m not," you snap.

Evelyn snorts.

"Yes, she is."

Ellison’s smirk deepens.

It’s light. Playful. But there’s something under it. Something that lingers.

Before you can respond—

Your phone vibrates.

You glance down.

Alexia.

The air shifts—heavy, cold.

Ellison watches you, gaze flicking to the name on your screen, then back up to your face.

The smirk is gone.

You swallow.

"I—" You step back, gripping your phone. "I have to take this."

Ellison nods. Doesn’t ask.

"See you around," she says simply.

You don’t answer. You just turn away, focus on getting the girls to the car, needing the space to breathe.

Nora groans when you tell her it’s time to go, dragging her feet, eyes pleading. You brace yourself for the meltdown, already picturing the whines, the pout, the bargaining—until you mention Alexia.

"Remember? Mama said she was probably coming over after. We need to be home to wait for her."

Nora straightens immediately. "Okay."

Crisis averted.

You buckle Iris into her seat, waiting for her to settle before you slide into the driver’s side. The moment you’re in, your fingers hover over the steering wheel before pressing call.

Alexia picks up on the first ring.

"Sorry I couldn’t answer before, it was crazy at the game. You’re on speaker," you say, adjusting the volume.

"Mama, I won!" Nora screams from the backseat.

"Congratulations, bebe!" Alexia’s voice warms through the line. "So, I think I’m picking up the pizza, right?"

"Yes, yes, yessss," Nora chants.

You glance at Iris in the rearview mirror. Still asleep. You lower your voice. "Nora, stop. You’re going to wake your sister."

She huffs, but quiets.

Alexia laughs. "Ice cream too, then?"

"Yeah, that’s fine."

"Okay. See you soon."

The call ends.

You exhale, gripping the wheel as you drive.

After a few minutes, that feel like hours, the garage door hums shut behind the car, the quiet finality of it making your stomach clench. You exhale slowly, resting your head back against the seat for just a second—just enough to breathe. To collect yourself.

Then—

Click.

Nora is already unbuckling her seatbelt, bouncing in place, her whole body practically vibrating with excitement.

“Mama is bringing pizza!” she squeals, as if she’s just now remembered. “And ice cream! Mom, can I get a soda too?”

“You know the rules,” you murmur, but there’s no real fight in your voice.

She groans, dragging her head back dramatically before pushing the door open and sprinting into the house. You shake your head, lips twitching despite yourself.

You sigh, shaking your head, before turning to the backseat. Iris is half-asleep, her tiny body slumped against the seat. Gently, you unbuckle her and lift her into your arms. She stirs slightly but doesn’t wake, her warm little arms curling instinctively around your neck.

Inside, the house is calm, the contrast almost jarring after the noise of the field. You carry Iris upstairs, carefully tucking her into bed. She shifts, her tiny fingers grasping at the blanket, and for a moment, you pause, watching her peaceful face.

Downstairs, Nora is sprawled on the couch, eyes glued to the TV. You move through the kitchen, setting the table, the mundane actions grounding you—at least, until the doorbell rings.

It’s fast. Too fast.

Before you can react, Nora is already up, sprinting toward the door.

"Finally!"

Alexia steps inside, carrying a pizza box in one hand and ice cream in the other. She barely has time to set the pizza box down before Nora throws herself into her arms, squeezing her tight.

“I missed you,” she mumbles into Alexia’s jacket.

Alexia laughs, adjusting her grip on the food to hold her properly. "Bebé, I picked you up from school yesterday."

"Yeah, but it feels like ages.”

You stand there, motionless, just watching.

Alexia shifts, catching your gaze over the top of Nora’s head. And for a moment—just a moment—her face softens.

You swallow, turning away. "The pizza is getting cold."

She’s wearing a Barcelona jacket over a fitted shirt, jeans, and sneakers. Simple. Effortless. Still, she makes it look infuriatingly good.

She sets the food on the table before turning to you.

"Hi."

Your throat tightens. You don’t know what to do with your hands, your body, yourself.

"Hey," you manage, voice more clipped than you intend.

Alexia watches you for a second, then shifts.

"Where’s Iris?"

"Upstairs," you say, moving a plate slightly just to give yourself something to do. "She was sleeping. I didn’t want to wake her."

"Want me to bring her down?"

You nod. "Yeah."

She brushes past you, and for a second, just a second, her fingers graze your waist—light, barely there, but enough.

Enough to make your stomach flip. Enough to make you hate that it still happens.

Dinner is a blur.

It’s easy, but only because Nora fills every available space with words. She barely pauses to breathe, recounting every moment of her game, every little detail she can remember. Iris is tucked at Alexia’s side, still drowsy but eating quietly.

You sit there. Pick at the crust of a pizza slice. Try not to let your hands shake.

Alexia keeps looking at you. Not obviously, but enough. Enough that you feel it pressing into your skin.

Then—

"Mama, can you help me sleep tonight?" Nora asks, already tugging at Alexia’s sleeve.

Alexia smiles. "Of course."

She stands, taking Iris with her, and they disappear upstairs. The second they’re gone, you exhale sharply.

Finally.

You reach for a wine glass, pouring yourself a generous amount, fingers tightening around the stem.

You take a slow sip. Another.

Upstairs, a door creaks softly, followed by the quiet murmur of Alexia’s voice—low, soothing. The rustle of blankets, a whispered goodnight. Footsteps move down the hall, steady, unhurried.

She steps into the doorway of the kitchen, arms crossed, expression unreadable. The weight of her presence fills the room, heavy and suffocating.

"You didn’t eat," she says, her voice soft but pointed.

You glance over at the half-eaten meal on the table, the uneaten food mocking you. Your stomach tightens, but it’s not hunger. It’s something else entirely, something you can’t swallow down.

"I had some," you reply, setting your glass down with a sharp clink.

"Barely," she presses, her gaze never leaving you.

You shake your head, pushing the frustration down. "Why do you care?"

It comes out too quickly, sharper than you intended. You watch as something flickers in Alexia’s eyes—a flash of hurt, of regret—but it disappears before you can fully register it.

"You know why," she says quietly, but the words hit like an accusation, like a reminder of everything that’s gone wrong.

Your fingers tighten around the countertop, your breath hitching. You exhale slowly, trying to keep control, but it slips. "Do I?"

Alexia rubs the back of her neck, the exhaustion lining her face. She looks tired, worn down in ways you hadn’t expected. But you push that thought away.

"You should eat something," she says again, voice softer now.

You turn, the frustration bubbling over. "Jesus, Alexia," you mutter, your tone sharp. "You show up, play house for an hour, and now you want to tell me what to do?"

"That’s not what I’m doing," she insists, her voice calm but firm.

"Really? Because it sure feels like it."

She sighs, looking up at the ceiling, as if trying to steady herself.

"Why are you really here, Alexia?" The words come out strained, a plea buried in the harshness.

A long pause.

"I wanted to see the girls." Her voice cracks slightly, as if it costs her something to say it.

You nod slowly, trying to keep your face neutral. "Right. And now that they’re asleep, what? You stick around for what, exactly?"

Alexia doesn’t answer right away, her eyes drifting over you. She’s searching for something, but you’re not sure what.

You shake your head, frustration leaking out. "That’s not fair, Alexia."

"I know." Her voice is quieter now, a confession in itself.

The silence between you stretches, thick and suffocating. The hum of the refrigerator is the only sound, the TV in the other room a faint murmur.

You find yourself staring at her lips, a small movement—she licks them, almost absentmindedly. Your pulse quickens, and you swallow hard, gripping the edge of the counter like it’s the only thing holding you upright.

"Did you fire her?"

Alexia freezes. The room goes still. Her breath comes slow, measured, like she’s bracing for impact. Then she exhales, rubbing a hand down her face.

"She was moved." Her voice is quiet, heavy.

You stare at her. "Moved?"

Alexia nods, eyes flicking to the side. "They transferred her to another department—less contact with the players."

Your stomach twists, something ugly curling in your chest. "So, she still works there?"

Her jaw tightens. She doesn’t answer.

"You think I didn’t try to fire her?" she finally says. Her voice is low, strained.

"Then why is she still there?"

Alexia presses her lips together, looking away like she doesn’t want to say it. She swallows hard. "The club wanted a reason. They wanted to know why."

It hits you all at once. The weight of it, the pathetic cowardice. "And you couldn’t tell them."

She shuts her eyes for half a second, then looks at the floor. "I—" She stops herself, shakes her head. "It wasn’t that simple."

You let out a sharp breath, something bitter burning in your throat. "It was simple, Alexia. You just didn’t want to say it."

Her eyes flash, something raw and defensive beneath the exhaustion. "You think it was that easy?" Her voice is quiet but strained, like she's holding something back. "You think I could just walk into their office and say, ‘I slept with her, now fire her’?"

"You should have," you snap, the words cutting through the thick air between you.

Alexia exhales sharply, raking a hand through her hair. "And then what? Have it become a headline? Have everyone looking at me like—" She stops herself, jaw clenching. "It wasn’t just about me."

Your chest tightens. "No, it was about protecting her."

She shakes her head, frustration flickering across her face. "It was about protecting everything. The team. The season. The girls—"

"Don’t," you cut in, voice sharp. "Don’t act like this was some noble sacrifice. You protected yourself, Alexia. You let her stay because admitting what you did—saying it out loud—would have meant facing it."

Her hands curl into fists at her sides. She opens her mouth, then closes it. No excuses. No defense. Just silence.

A slow, suffocating weight settles in your chest, thick and suffocating.

"You’re a fucking coward."

Alexia’s lips part, her whole body tensing like she wants to fight back, like she wants to explain—but nothing comes. She just stands there, her breathing uneven, her eyes heavy with something you don’t want to name.

The silence between you stretches, thick and suffocating.

You can’t do this.

Not tonight.

Your fingers tighten around the neck of the wine bottle as you turn sharply on your heel, your feet carrying you toward the stairs before you can think better of it. You don’t look back, but you hear her footsteps—hesitant at first, then more certain as she follows.

"Where are you going?"

Her voice is right behind you, close enough that you can feel it, like the heat of a flame licking at your spine.

You don’t answer. You just keep moving.

"I don’t want to talk."

"But I do." There's a sharpness to her voice now, frustration bleeding through. "Why can’t we talk like normal, functional adults?"

You stop. Your breath is unsteady, hands clenched so tight your nails bite into your palms. When you turn, she’s right there, too close, eyes searching yours like she’s desperate for something—an opening, a crack in the wall you’ve put between you.

"Because we’re not normal, Alexia." Your voice is quieter now, but no less sharp. "And we sure as hell aren’t functional."

The moment you step into the bedroom, the air feels different—heavier, like it’s thick with memories you don’t want to face. The faint scent of Alexia’s perfume lingers in the sheets, in the air, in your skin, like an ache you can’t wash away.

You set the bottle down on the nightstand with more force than necessary, the glass clinking sharply against the wood. Your hands move before your mind catches up—you pull at the buttons of your shirt, shedding the weight of the day, of the conversation, of her.

Alexia doesn’t stop at the doorway. She follows, closing the door behind her. "You shouldn’t be drinking like this."

You scoff, shaking your head as you pull the fabric from your shoulders. "And you shouldn’t have fucked someone else, but here we are."

She exhales sharply, doesn’t leave.

Your hands move to your closet door, pushing it open. The space is pristine, everything in its place—your shoes lined up in neat rows, designer heels alongside sneakers, your handbags displayed on glass shelves like artifacts in a museum. The scent of leather and cedarwood lingers in the air, blending with the faint, familiar notes of Alexia’s cologne clinging to the jackets she never took with her. The dim, recessed lighting casts a warm glow over the polished marble floors, the gold fixtures gleaming under it.

Alexia lingers, watching you.

You say, while pulling out a set of pajamas. "You can leave." Every muscle in your body is coiled so tight you feel like you might snap.

Alexia looks at you, eyes dark and unreadable, lips parted like she wants to say more. Like she wants to close the distance between you and fix something.

Instead, she rubs a hand down her face, and then—

"I’m sleeping in Nora’s room."

It takes a second for the words to register.

Your pulse stutters. Your fingers tighten against the dresser.

"You’re what?"

Alexia swallows, shifting on her feet, her jaw tight. "I’m staying in Nora’s room tonight."

A slow, disbelieving laugh forces its way out of you. It’s humorless, sharp at the edges. "You think you get to do that?"

"She’ll want me there."

Your stomach twists violently.

You step forward before you can stop yourself, rage flickering dangerously beneath your skin.

"You don’t just get to fucking decide that," you snap. "You don’t get to show up, say what you need to say, and then plant yourself in this house like nothing happened."

Alexia’s expression hardens, but there’s something desperate in the way she holds herself. "She’s my daughter too."

"And whose fault is it that you’re not in this house anymore?"

Her jaw tightens, her nostrils flare, but she doesn’t have an answer.

You shake your head, biting down so hard on the inside of your cheek you taste blood.

"Go home, Alexia," you mutter.

Alexia stays still.

You step back, shaking your head again. "I mean it."

After a long, tense beat, she exhales, looking down. "I’ll leave in the morning."

You press your lips together so tightly it hurts.

"Whatever."

You turn away before she can see the way your throat tightens, before she can catch the flicker of something shattered in your expression.

The bedroom door clicks shut behind you.

And you don’t look back.

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woso-scotland · 11 hours ago

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STOP LETTING GRANT HANLEY AND KENNY MCLEAN PLAY FOR SCOTLAND YOU BALD TERRORIST!! 🤯

It's 2025 ffs stop playing these useless bastards for the national team

#scotland national team #scotland nt #grant hanley #kenny mclean #Scotland vs Greece #uefa nations league

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woso-scotland · 1 day ago

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No Hard Feelings II Fridolina Rolfö x Reader

romantic masterlist | platonic masterlist | previous fanfic I word count: 1556

summary: Fridolina initially acts cold and dismissive toward Reader. But is her aloofness rooted in genuine disdain, or is there something deeper behind her behavior? requested

author's note: Hi readers, we hope you enjoy the fanfic. Your feedback is always appreciated. 💙💙

disclaimer: everything in this fanfiction is purely fictional and nothing corresponds to reality.

It happened again. Fridolina’s blue eyes never sought yours. Her glances were always directed at your other teammates, never at you. As she animatedly spoke to Kika and Ellie, you were left ignored, feeling invisible to her.

When Fridolina finally left - it was the official end of training after all- you couldn’t stay quiet any longer. “See? She did it again!”

“Did what?” The blonde goalkeeper frowned, clearly confused. The hurt was evident in your voice as you replied, “Whenever I said something, she didn’t respond.”

Fridolina’s dismissive behaviour reminded you too much of what you’d experienced at your former club—ugly memories resurfacing, ones you’d tried so hard to leave behind.

“Kika’s right. Frido probably didn’t mean to do it on purpose, y/n,” Kika said, trying to comfort you.

Smiling, Ellie added, “Kika’s right. She’s really a nice person. You’ll see that once you’re here longer.”

“What? You two don’t see how Frido’s always ignoring me?” you protested, knowing full well how childish it must sound to your friends.

The Portuguese striker observed in a matter-of-fact tone, “You’re serious.”

“Yes.” Seeing the doubtful expressions on both of their faces, you added, your voice sounding defeated, “You don’t even believe me.”

“No, next time, we’ll focus on this,” Kika promised.

You let out a sigh of relief. “Okay, good.”

The goalkeeper gave you a sympathetic look. “You’re safe here. This isn’t your old club, remember?”

“I… I know that.”, you replied. In theory, it was true—you were aware of it—but had your heart caught up with your brain yet? Apparently not. You wanted honesty and truth from Fridolina, not a cold shoulder.

Light-heartedly, Ellie asked, attempting to distract you, “So, what about you two? Are you starving like I am?”

“Yes!” the brunette exclaimed, grinning.

A little chuckle escaped your lips as you replied, “It’s not even a question. Let’s grab some food.”

“Please,” the goalkeeper pleaded, before wrapping her arms around Kika and your shoulders as you walked out into the late afternoon, the sun casting a golden glow on your faces.

Maybe, just maybe, everything would turn out alright in Barcelona. Even with Fridolina. A small spark of hope grew inside you while you laughed with your friends.

A few days later, that hopeful feeling was shattered. The game was filled with intensity, and your team was trailing behind—something it wasn’t used to. Tempers flared as the minutes ticked by, and the opponent’s tackles made things especially difficult.

At first, you couldn’t believe it, but then you saw an opening in the defence—a perfect position to shoot the ball into the goalkeeper’s net. “Frido, give me the ball!” you shouted.

The Swede had more than enough time to make a decision. You never received the ball. Instead she passed the ball to Patri behind you who launched the ball over the goal.

And then, as if that wasn’t enough, the Swede even had the audacity to turn towards you, all innocence: “What?”

The halftime whistle blew, but you barely registered it.

You couldn’t hold back. You stomped towards her, growing angrier with every step: “Didn’t you hear me? Why do you keep avoiding me like the plague?!”

Fridolina took a step back, her gaze locked onto your face, wary.

“I don’t!”, she protested.

“Yes, you do! This was our chance to turn this game around!”, you continued.

Your teammate shook her head and turned away to walk towards the dressing rooms. But not without defending herself.

“You weren’t in a position to receive the ball.”, she said calmly over her shoulder.

“That’s a lie!”, you shouted after her.

That made her pause and turn back towards you. She scoffed with frustration: “God, that’s pretty illusory for someone with the talent you have.”

You opened your mouth, ready to reply when Alexia stepped between the two of you. You didn’t even have to look at her, you could feel the anger radiate off of her.

“Both of you, go in that room and get this sorted during the halftime break.”, she ordered, pointing towards what appeared to be a broom closet. You had no doubt that if you protested, she would drag you inside there without hesitation.

“Alexia, you can’t be serious.”, Fridolina groaned.

“Do I look like I’m joking? It’s time for you two to talk it out.”

Even the stubborn Swede had to accept that arguing was useless: “Ugh.”

Wordlessly, you both entered the tiny, dimly lit room. As you closed the door behind yourself, you muttered to yourself: “I’ve never seen her that mad before.”

To your surprise, Fridolina actually responded: “She hates nothing more than when someone doesn’t put the team above everything else.”

You weren’t sure if there was a hint of guilt in her voice but whatever it was, you chose to ignore it. Instead, you studied her face in the low light. The single bulb above you cast shadows over her face.

“Me too.”, you said. “So? Will you tell me why you hate me now? It’s okay, I can take the truth much better than this silent treatment you’ve been giving me.”

Nothing. Just silence. You half expected that Fridolina went back to ignoring you, when she suddenly sighed heavily.

“I don’t hate you.”

"Wait, you don’t?", you blinked at her, surprised.

She rambled, clearly struggling to find the right words. "No... I just..."

"You...?" You looked at her expectantly.

Fridolina nervously ran a hand through her messy blonde ponytail, looking a little frazzled. "I wasn’t sure how to talk to you."

"It would’ve been less confusing if you’d just talked to me like you do with the other teammates," you told her.

"That’s different."

"Why? Because I’m the new girl?", you frowned.

Slowly, Fridolina shook her head, then clarified, "No."

"What’s your problem?”, you raised an eyebrow.

Both of you flinched when you heard your captain’s voice through the closed door: "Hurry up, only two more minutes."

The blonde didn’t address whatever issue she had with you. Instead, she referred to the incident on the pitch earlier, which had left your blood boiling. "I have no problem. There was an opponent behind you, so I couldn’t pass you the ball. That’s all."

You both sensed there was more to it, but the full truth remained elusive. "Okay. But why is talking to me different from talking to the others?" you asked, holding your breath without thinking.

You were so close to seeing the human behind her snow queen-esque façade, until Fridolina reminded you in a frosty tone

"Fridolina...", you began, trying to hide your disappointment.

Unmoved, she opened the door where Alexia was waiting for you. "Let’s go."

"You’d better get this right on the pitch now," the captain demanded, her hands on her hips, looking as determined as ever to secure the win.

There were only a few minutes left to play when Kika jumped on you, cheering as you scored the late winning goal. "What a strike!"

"Not bad, huh? I couldn’t have done it without Frido’s assist," you grinned proudly.

Kika’s eyes immediately shifted to the Swede before returning to you with a mischievous wink. "Looks like she’s not ignoring you anymore."

Satisfied, Alexia embraced you:"That’s what I wanted to see all along."

"We’ve got that," Fridolina reassured the captain as they shared a quick hug.

The victory had lifted everyone’s spirits. Each player was still buzzing, long after the final whistle. Loud chatter and laughter filled the changing room. Some wins just tasted sweeter, and this was definitely one of them.

Later, freshly showered, you waved to your teammates—who had become your friends. "Bye, everyone."

"Frido, now," Ingrid hissed, giving her friend a small but firm push in your direction.

You heard your name slip from the Swede's lips. Turning to her, you waited: 'Yeah?' “I...”

With raised eyebrows, you waited for her to continue. But when it became clear that she wouldn’t continue, you sighed, frustration slipping through.

“Just say it.”, you urged her impatiently, adjusting the strap of your sports bag on your shoulder.

Fridolina took a deep breath as if bracing herself for what she was coming next.

“The reason I talked to the others but not you is because… I’m not attracted to them.”

The words tumbled out of her mouth and you needed a moment to gather them, one by one.

“You find me attractive?”, you echoed, your brain still trying to piece it all together.

Fridolina nodded shyly: “I… do.”

You hesitated a second but once realisation settled in, you quickly found your footing.

“How about a date where we can get to know each other then?”, you suggested, smiling.

Before Fridolina could respond, Ingrid chimed in with a delighted: “Sounds perfect.”

You looked at the Swede, still waiting for a reaction from her.

“I think I would like that.”, she finally said, her eyes gleaming.

“Maybe at a café on our free day?”

Fridolina nodded: “That sounds great.”

“We’ve a date.” You gave her one last smile before you left the dressing room, exhilarated by what had just happened.

As you walked away, you heard Ingrid’s voice behind you. “See, Frido? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Fridolina let out a small laugh.

“It wasn’t,” she admitted, her gaze following you out with the tiniest smile on her lips.

image sources: pinterest

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woso-scotland · 1 day ago

Text

𝑀𝑜𝓃𝓀𝑒𝓎 Our Girl: Growing Up | 𝐼𝒻 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝓀𝓎 𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒲𝑒 𝐿𝑜𝑜𝓀 𝒰𝓅𝑜𝓃, 𝒮𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒯𝓊𝓂𝒷𝓁𝑒 𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝐹𝒶𝓁𝓁

summary: the new house move is overshadowed by monkey's first supervised visit with mark

our girl: growing up masterlist

“Looks like that was the last box in the van,” Jordan cheerfully announced, stepping into the house with a cardboard box in hand, “Now it’s the fun part of unpacking everything.”

Leah mock-wiped her brow with an exaggerated sigh, “Phew, thank God. That felt endless.”

Jacob snorted, smirking at her, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You barely carried half of them–Dad and I did all the hard work.”

“Shush, you,” Leah shot back with a playful grin, “I’ll have you know I’m carrying precious cargo.”

Jacob raised an eyebrow, “Oh yeah? And what’s that then?”

“Your future niece or nephew,” Leah smirked, motioning to her stomach.

Jacob blinked before letting out a low whistle, “Touché. I’ll let you off this time.”

“Le, I’m just sorting out everything in the kitchen,” Amanda called from inside the house, already beginning her work in the kitchen, “Is there anything you guys want in a specific place?”

“No, it should be fine wherever. We can always rearrange it if needs be,” Leah responded, shrugging her shoulders, taking the moment to glance around the spacious three-bedroomed house, her expression shifting to something more contemplative, “Well, I guess this is it–home sweet home.”

You stood beside her, silent, your eyes wide scanning the unfamiliar space.

Leah had never expected to move out so soon—sure there was countless talks of it with Jordan, but the plan had always been to stay in her family home until she was at least done with her accountancy degree, but life had a way of throwing unexpected changes her way.

The biggest one? You.

You needed a safe place to stay, and Leah’s childhood home simply wasn’t big enough. So here you were–standing in the hallway of what Leah called your new home.

And then there was the baby. Leah and Jordan were only ten weeks along, but their future had already shifted in ways they hadn’t fully processed yet. You weren’t sure what that meant for you. Did this change things? Did they still want you here? Did you even belong?

“We’ll make it perfect for our kids–Monkey and our little one, whatever gender they turn out to be,” Jordan swooped behind Leah, wrapping her free arm around her girlfriend’s waist.

“My money’s still on it being a boy,” Jacob teased.

Leah huffed, rolling her eyes, “You just want a nephew to support the same team that you do.”

“Of course I do!” Jacob puffed out his chest, “I can guide him down the right path. Ain’t that right, Dad?” He asked, turning round to look at the older man who had just walked into the room.

“Absolutely,” David agreed.

“As if,” Leah scoffed, waggling her fingers in mock threat, “There’s no way my future child will support anyone but Arsenal.”

Jordan laughed in agreement, moving to crouch down to unpack a box that she’d recently brought into the house, “She’s serious about that one. If you even brought a Spurs shirt into this house, she’d probably set it on fire.”

“Correct,” Leah said, nodding firmly.

Jacob scoffed, “You can’t just expect them to pick Arsenal. What if they want to support Spurs?”

Leah shuddered dramatically, “Over my dead body.”

“Jacob does have a point though,” Jordan began, grinning at her girlfriend, “A boy would be nice–one of each then, yeah?”

“Mhm, maybe,” Leah mused, “But a girl would be nice too, wouldn’t it? Only ten more weeks until we find out.”

“Ten weeks feels like forever,” Jordan sighed.

The conversation drifted around you, the room buzzing with movement–The banter continued about which team the new baby would support, while Amanda unpacked in the kitchen and Jordan sorted through things in the living room. You stood still in the hallway, watching it all but unsure where you fit into the chaos.

Your fingers twitched at your sides before, slowly, your thumb found its way into your mouth. It was instinct, comfort–something familiar when everything else felt too new, too uncertain.

Leah must have noticed because before long, she was crouching in front of you, “Hey, my girl,” She began in a gentle tone of voice, “This is your new home now. You have your own bedroom here, and we can make it however you like–it’s entirely yours.”

“Mine?” Your voice was barely a whisper.

Leah smiled, reaching out to tuck a lose strand of your hair behind your ear, “Yes, it’s yours–”

“Oi, Leah!” Jacob called, interrupting the moment the two of you had, “Where do you want this box labeled ‘kitchen’?”

“My guess would be in the kitchen there, J,” Leah laughed, her younger brothers’ question making her smile, but she barely paid him any mind with her attention still on you, “What do you think about it, my girl?”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t want to. Talking felt too big, too hard–you felt it was safer to remain quiet at this time.

Leah reached out, rubbing slow, circles on your arm. Then, with a small smile, she gently tapped your hand, “Hey, let’s try to keep your thumb out of your mouth, yeah? We don’t want you getting poorly from the yucky germs, do we?”

You hesitated but, after a few seconds, pulled your thumb away, rubbing it against your sleeve instead. Leah nodded approvingly and stood up, holding her hand out, “Come on, let’s go see your room.”

“It… It’s mine?” You asked, confused.

“Yeah, it is,” Leah agreed, squeezing her hand reassuringly as you began to climb the stairs, walking into your new bedroom, “Do you like it? We can decorate it however you want.”

Your brows furrowed, “But… But I thought this was only temporary.”

“This is your home now, Monkey,” Leah reassured you, crouching to meet your eye level, “You’re here, and you don’t have to worry about going anywhere, alright?”

You hesitated, shifting your weight, “I… I guess so.”

“Plenty of room for all those Lego bricks you love to leave everywhere,” Leah added, nudging you lightly.

“How do you like it, little one?” Jordan poked her head around your bedroom door, “Think there’s enough space on the walls to put up all those Shrek posters–hey, we can even paint it green if you want, or yellow, like Spongebob?” She grinned playfully.

Leah laughed, squeezing your hand again, “This is your home now, Monkey. With us. We want you to feel safe here. To be happy.”

“H… Happy?” You echoed uncertainly.

“That’s right, my girl,” Leah’s voice was warm, “Your happiness is what matters most to us.”

Before you could respond, a loud crash from downstairs made you jump.

“Jacob!” Amanda’s voice rang out.

“That wasn’t me!” Jacob not-so-innocently replied.

Leah chuckled before turning back to you, “We should probably go and see what’s going on. Do you want to come with us, or do you want to explore your new room?”

You hesitated for a beat, then whispered, “I… I want to come.”

Leah didn’t waste time holding out her hand again, “Come on then, cheeky Monkey. Let’s go see what chaos awaits downstairs.”

As you walked together, you heard Jordan murmur behind you.

“Home sweet home, eh?”

Leah hummed in agreement, “Home sweet home. It’s going to be perfect–for us and our kid."

“Come on my girl, you need to eat more than that,” Leah noted the untouched plate of food that was set in front of you on the table, “I know you like it, and you even have baked beans instead of spaghetti hoops this time, so what’s the problem, hm?”

The following night in your new home should have been the start of a new and exciting new adventure, a new chapter with them–however, that was overshadowed by the planned court-ordered supervised visit with your dad that had been mentioned to you in passing conversation the next day.

That set your mood for the rest of the evening.

You hadn’t even bothered to lift your fork to take a bite of your food, “I… I don’t want to.”

“You’ve hardly touched it,” Jordan added.

You scrunched your face up in protest, “I don’t care! I don’t want it–I’m not eating it!”

“Well you can’t not eat anything, can you?” Leah remained calm and patient, fixing you with a knowing look, “If you don’t eat your dinner then you won’t get any pudding, and I know how much you like that, don’t you?”

“I don’t care!” You exclaimed, crossing your arms over your chest as you scowled at your dinner, “It’s dumb and stupid! I… I don’t want it!”

“Right, okay then…” Leah exhaled a sigh, rubbing her temples–she wasn’t angry at you, not really. But she hated seeing you like this, torn between giving in and holding her ground, “If you don’t want to eat your dinner then that’s fine, but you will not be eating anything else–no cake, no biscuits, no chocolate.”

“That’s not fair!” You growled aloud, getting angry at the idea of not being allowed any nice treats, “I… I want them!”

“Neither is wasting dinner that Jordan has cooked,” Leah wasn’t budging on her own decision, “You know the rules. If you’re not going to eat your dinner then you’re not getting any nice things.”

You continued to scowl at Leah, keeping your arms crossed over your chest, “Don’t wanna eat stupid dinner…”

“I know you don’t want to, Monkey,” Leah remained patient the entire time, “But you need to eat. It’s important.”

“No, don’t wanna,” Your hands clenched into fists under the table, nails digging into your palms as you glared at the plate. A lump formed in your throat, and you could feel the tightness in your chest that you didn’t know how to explain. Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes, but you were trying so hard to keep them back.

Leah furrowed her brow, sensing this was something bigger than you being stubborn and not wanting to eat your dinner, “What is this about, madam?”

“Nuffin’ I just am not hungry!” You exclaimed.

Leah didn’t automatically believe that. She knew it was something deeper than just not being hungry, “Monkey, come on. Talk to me, my girl. What’s going on inside that head of yours, hm?”

“I… I don’t want to,” Your voice faltered, afraid to admit what was the actual source of your upset.

“Don’t want to, what?” Leah repeated in a gentle tone of voice, “You can trust me, Monkey. If something is upsetting you then I would like to know, please.”

“I don’t want to go,” You mumbled so quietly that you were barely even heard, “I… I don’t want to see him.”

“Oh,” Leah’s realisation was immediate as she exhaled a sigh, “I know you don’t want to, but it’ll be okay. Hannah will be there with you the whole time, won’t she?” She reassured you the best that she could.

That did nothing to ease the sour mood you were in, “NO! I don’t want to go, Le!”

“I know you don’t, but it’s not our decision on this… I’m sorry, my girl,” Leah hated the idea of the courts being able to give your dad a second chance, but there wasn’t a lot that she could do about it to make them think differently–it wasn’t her decision.

You huffed, sitting slouched at the dinner table while continuing to glare at your untouched dinner like you had a personal vendetta against it, “I… I don’t want to go.”

“Hey, it’s only going to be for a couple of hours, and then you’ll be back here, won’t you?” Leah reminded you with a kind smile.

You still weren’t keen on the idea regardless, “I don’t want to go!”

Leah frowned, pursing her lips, “I’m sorry, Monkey, but it’s out of our hands.”

“NO!” You shot up from the table so fast that your chair scraped across the floor. Without another word, you bolted up the stairs, slamming your bedroom door so hard the walls rattled.

“Monkey–” Leah stood up, frustration written all over her face, ready to go after you.

“Hey, just let her calm down, Le,” Jordan interrupted, placing a steady hand on her girlfriend’s arm, “Let’s just give her a minute to calm down.”

“You’re right,” Leah relented, exhaling a sigh.

Jordan sympathsised with her girlfriend’s frustration, “It’s a lot for her to deal with, remember? We’ll talk to her when she’s ready.”

“How could the court even consider giving him a second chance?” Leah’s voice cracked slightly as she muttered the words, disbelief and anger mingling in her tone, “Those photos… the bruises… it’s not enough for them?”

Jordan moved closer to Leah, placing a gentle hand on her back, “I know, but it’s been agreed and there’s nothing we can do about it,” She explained, “Let’s just hope… Well for now, let’s just hope that it goes well tomorrow.”

“Thank God Hannah will be there to supervise it,” Leah murmured quietly.

“Come on, come sit down and finish eating,” Jordan gestured Leah to sit back down at the table and finish her own dinner, “It’s not good for you to be getting so worked up. You have the baby to think about, remember?”

“I know… I just…” Leah’s hands balled into fists as she leaned against the kitchen counter, “I feel so helpless, Jord. We can’t protect her from this… We can’t protect her from him.”

“Le,” Jordan began to speak before the sound of furniture crashing echoed through the house, followed by a drawer being yanked open and your muffled shout, “What on earth was that?”

Leah’s shoulders slumped in resignation, “That would be Monkey destroying everything in her room… again.”

“Wakey, wakey, Monkey,” Leah gently nudged you, her voice soft and warm. Your bedroom was still a mess from the meltdown last night–clothes scattered, stuffed animals thrown across the room, blankets half-hanging off the bed. But Leah didn’t say anything about it. She just carried on with the morning routine, the same one she’d followed every day this past month, like you hadn’t spent the night crying into her chest until you finally wore yourself out.

You’d wake up, and then you’d have breakfast while watching morning cartoons–Coco Pops and Spongebob, always the same. Your routine was solid, it was safe. Change was bad. You hated it when things changed.

Leah was always the one to wake you up. You’d learned that Jordan preferred her lie-ins–though Leah joked that wouldn’t be happening much longer when the new baby arrived.

You weren’t sure how to feel about that. Would you still get your morning cartoons? Would they steal all the cereal?

“I know you’re awake, madam. You can’t fool me,” A smile tugged at Leah’s lips as she reached out to tickle your foot, the one spot she knew would always make you giggle, “See? I knew it.”

“Not fair,” You muttered, scrunching your face up in protest.

“Did you sleep well, my girl?” Leah’s voice was soft, but of course she already knew the answer–it was a definite no. She’d woken up with you several times throughout the night, but then, Leah wasn’t sure there had been a single night in the last month that you had actually slept through the night.

“M’ still sleepy,” You mumbled, pulling the duvet over your head in an attempt to hide.

“I know. But come on, we’ve got a busy day ahead,” Leah’s tone stayed gentle, but there was an edge of something else in her voice–something that made you tense up, “Do you remember what’s happening today?”

Of course you remembered. You hadn’t stopped thinking about it since yesterday. Your heart started to race just at the thought of it.

You didn’t want to see your dad, let alone sit in the same room as him. The idea made your stomach churn.

Maybe if you just pretended to be asleep long enough, then you wouldn’t have to go?

“I don’t want to go, Le,” Your voice was small, almost a whisper.

“I know, Monkey, I know,” Leah’s hand brushed your hair back gently, as if she was trying to soothe the anxiety bubbling up inside you, “If it was up to me, I wouldn’t make you go either. But…”

“Then make it happen,” You whispered desperately.

Leah hesitated, her fingers pausing on your hair for a moment before she sighed, “It’s just not that simple, Monkey. This… This is out of my hands.”

You didn’t like that answer.

You curled in on yourself, gripping the duvet tighter. It wasn’t fair. Leah was the grown up–if she really wanted to, she could stop this, couldn’t she?

She could fix it.

“Come on,” Leah coaxed after a moment, “I bet you’re hungry, aren’t you? You didn’t eat dinner last night.”

“M’ not,” You protested against the idea.

Leah hummed like she didn’t quite believe you, “Well, if we go downstairs now, I’m pretty sure we’ll make it in time for another episode of Spongebob.”

You turned your face deeper into the pillow, “Don’t wanna watch it.”

“You don’t?” Leah sounded amused, “Now that is something new.”

“I just wanna go back to bed,” You huffed, your voice growing thick with frustration, “I don’t wanna go to the stupid visit!”

The words exploded out of you before you could stop them, your hands balling up into fists against the mattress.

Leah didn’t react right away. She didn’t scold you or tell you off. She just sighed, shifting so she was sitting on the edge of the bed.

“I know you don’t want to do this, Monkey,” She said quietly, “And believe me, if I could change it, I would. But you know I can’t. It’s out of my control. And I know you’re scared about this, but it’s going to be fine. Okay? You’re not going to go through this on your own.”

Her words sat heavy in the air between you.

You hated this. You hated everything about it.

“It’s not fair,” You muttered.

Leah nodded in understanding, “I know it’s not.”

She didn’t try to force you out of bed. She just stayed there, waiting, letting you feel what you needed to feel.

And then, after a while, she spoke again, but softer this time.

“Tell you what. How about we go downstairs, yeah? You don’t have to eat if you don’t want to. We can just sit together. We can watch Spongebob, or something else entirely different if you want. I just want you to be happy.”

You hesitated.

You didn’t want to go downstairs. You didn’t want to do anything. But… Leah was waiting. She wasn’t going to leave.

You peeked out from under the duvet, “Anything?”

Leah smiled, “Anything.”

You weren’t sure if that made you feel better or worse. But still, slowly, you pushed the duvet back.

Leah held out her hand, patient as ever.

After a moment, you took it.

But it was never going to be that easy.

If you’d have asked Leah and Jordan, then the entire morning leading up to the visit was a gruelling task–everything was a struggle, and you weren’t shy about making it clear that you didn’t want to go to the contact centre.

“Monkey, you have to get dressed,” Leah’s voice was tired and her patience fraying after hours of battling with you over even the smallest tasks.

“No I don’t!” You argued, shaking your head and refusing to follow instructions–in your head, if you didn’t get dressed then you wouldn’t have to go.

Simple. Or so you thought it would be.

“Yes you do,” Leah’s tone was firm, but she wasn’t without empathy. The frustration was growing on her side, but she tried to keep her voice steady, ”Come on, let’s get dressed, okay?”

“NO!” You kicked out, your fists clenching as you tried to make your point clear. It wasn’t just about the clothes. It was everything–the whole day that felt impossible.

“Well unless you want to go out wearing your pyjamas then you have to get changed,” Leah tried to reason with you, her voice quieter, like you were much younger than you were, seemingly the only approach that would have any hope of working, “Come on, let’s go and find something for you to wear.”

“I don’t wanna wear that!” You pushed the shirt she offered away, shaking your head furiously as the tears welled in your eyes.

“Okay,” Leah said gently, holding up another shirt, her hands already trembling a little from the pressure, “What about this one instead?”

“NO!” You were beyond reasoning now, your body tense with defiance, face scrunched up in frustration. The more she tried, the more you pushed back. The tension was growing, and Leah could feel it too.

“Hey, hey, less of the shouting please,” Leah sighed, massaging her temple as the beginnings of a headache crept in. She could already feel the strain of your resistance, “Right, how about… how about this one?” She asked, holding up yet another option.

You scrunched your face up in further protest, “No–I’m not going!” Your voice cracked, raw emotion slipping through despite your best attempts to stay in control.

“How’s it going in here?” Jordan gingerly popped her head around the door, more than aware of the answer–she’d heard the full high-pitched screaming from downstairs.

“Well every outfit so far is out of the question,” Leah muttered sarcastically, “How about your Arsenal top? You love that one, don’t you.”

You couldn’t wear that top–your dad was dead against your team. Arsenal– it wouldn’t go well if you wore it, “NO! I’m not wearin’ that–I’m not goin’ there. I’m not doing it!”

Leah’s heart hurt hearing the plea in your voice. This was the crux of it. You didn’t want to go to the contact centre–the one place where you were expected to interact with your dad, and the thought of that terrified you. The idea of being forced to see him–of being near him at all–filled you with dread.

Leah knew it. Jordan knew it. But the court had decided that your dad deserved a second chance, and that was something neither of them could change.

“We’ve been through this, Monkey,” Leah said, her voice softening with sympathy, “I know you don’t want to go, but it’s not my decision. The court decided it, so we have to… we just have to follow their rules, alright?”

“The court is dumb,” You muttered, the words bitter and resentful. The fear was still there, swirling just beneath the surface, but it was now tinged with anger, too.

“The court might be dumb,” Leah said with a small, tired smile, “But I am still going to need you to get dressed for me, please?”

“Nuh-uh. You’re a meanie making me go! I don’t want to go!” Your voice trembled, thick with the frustration and terror you were feeling. You weren’t just refusing to–you were desperately trying to convince Leah to take control, to make the decision that you so badly wanted her to make, “I don’t wanna–you can’t make me!”

“I’m sorry, I really wish that it was up to me to decide,” Leah said softly, her voice breaking just a little at the edges, “I love you so much, I’m sorry that you have to do this. It’s only for an hour and a half and then you’ll be back here, and you’ll be safe, yeah? It won’t be that long, my girl,” She told you, biting her bottom lip, knowing she had to remain calm and sensible in this current situation.

Leah absolutely hated this.

She hated seeing you like this–the raw fear that ran so deep.

But the rules were the rules, and they had to be followed.

“No,” You whined, stomping your foot in protest, “Tell them not to allow it, Le,” You pleaded again, your voice weak and full of exhaustion.

Leah’s heart cracked just a little more, “I wish I could, Monkey,” She said, her voice steady but soft, “But we have to follow the rules, even if it’s unfair.”

“I would rather go to school than this,” You blurted out, desperate for anything to change the situation, even if it meant facing a classroom full of uncomfortable lessons and unwanted classmates.

“Wow? School? That must say a lot then, huh,” Leah replied with a small laugh, trying to lighten the mood, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Her heart ached for you. She could see how desperate you were to avoid what was coming–she couldn’t blame you for not wanting to go.

“Why can’t I just stay here?” You turned to her, your big eyes pleading.

“You are staying here, we’re not going anywhere,” Leah said, her voice gentle now, trying to comfort you as best as she could, “But this… this visit needs to happen, okay? It’s not going to be like before, I’ll be right here waiting for you when you come back.”

You looked at her, your face scrunching with fear, and the tears started to fall freely now, “I… I don’t want to see him. And I… I don’t want to talk to him.”

“I know,” Leah whispered, her hand moving to your hair as she gently stroked it, trying to calm you down, “I know you’re scared. You don’t have to talk to him until you’re ready. But it’s really important that we follow the rules, Monkey.”

“Please… Please don’t make me go, Le,” Your hands were trembling now, and the tears blurred your vision as you struggled to catch your breath. You could feel the tightness in your chest again–the same tightness that you always felt when things felt out of control.

Leah didn’t push you to stop crying. Instead, she pulled you into a tight hug, wrapping her arms around you protectively, letting you feel the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. You clutched at her tightly, your hands still trembling in fear as you buried your face into her chest.

Leah’s hug felt tight… and safe.

You didn’t want to let go.

“It’s going to be okay,” Leah whispered into your hair, gently rocked you back and forth, her voice soothing and steady, “I’m right here, I’m right here with you.”

The knock at the door broke the conversation, and you flinched in sheer panic.

That meant time was ticking, and you would have to face your dad soon.

“That’ll be Hannah at the door. I’ll go let her in,” Jordan straightened up, making her way out of your bedroom, “I’ll let her know that we’re having a bit of a wobble at the minute.”

Leah looked over from where she held you tight against her and nodded, “Thanks, Jord.”

You continued to tremble in fear. You didn’t want to go, but you had no say in the matter.

Leah continued to hold you tight in her arms, “Hey, hey, I’m here. Listen, I know you’re scared, my girl,” She cooed, “And I know it’s a scary thing to go through, but you’re not alone in this. You’ve got me, you’ve got Jordy, and there’s this new Bubba as well kicking away in my belly. We’re a family now, my girl, okay? And no one can take that away from us.”

“I don’t want to see him, Le. I… I don’t want to see him. He scares me, Le,” You admitted, your bottom lip wobbling as the fear continued to pool in.

Leah swallowed the lump that formed in her throat, using one hand to keep a protective hold on you and the other hand to run through her hair, “I know, my girl. I know you’re scared. It’s just an hour. It’s one hour and then it’ll be over and done with. I promise, it’s not going to be for long.”

“Hi, Hannah. Come in,” Jordan’s voice was tired as she answered the door, her concern evident as she stepped aside to let the social worker in, “Things are… a bit tough at the minute. Monkey’s not exactly coping well.”

“Hi, Jordan,” Hannah offered a small, sympathetic smile as she stepped inside, “I can’t even imagine how she must be feeling, but we’ll go at her pace. No rush.”

“Thank you,” Jordan sighed, running a hand through her hair, “This morning has been rough. Leah’s upstairs trying to get her dressed, but she’s fighting it every step of the way.”

Hannah nodded, understanding, “I imagine this isn’t easy for her. How long has she been like this? It’s hard to stick to a routine when everything feels so uncertain.”

“Since last night, when we told her,” Jordan exhaled sharply, “She had a meltdown. Trashed her room again. She’s scared. And honestly? I don’t blame her. None of this is fair.”

Hannah’s lips pressed in a thin line as she nodded, “I agree. If it were up to me, I wouldn’t allow this. But the court believes in second chances, unfortunately.”

Jordan scoffed, shaking her head, “Yeah? Well, I think she deserves a second chance more than he does. We’ve worked so hard to build some kind of stability for her, and now… it feels like all of that progress is just unravelling.”

“I understand why you might feel like that,” Hannah placed a reassuring hand on Jordan’s arm, “But I promise, it’s obvious that she feels safe here with you both.”

Jordan swallowed, nodding, “I hope so. I just hate that she has to go through this. She was finally settling in–she had her routine, she had stability… and now this just throws everything off.”

“I know,” Hannah’s voice was soft, “Consistency is so important for her, and having this looming over her must make it even harder. Has she been sleeping any better?”

Jordan hesitated before shaking her head, “Not really. She’s been waking up a lot. Leah and I take turns getting up with her, but she’s so unsettled. Nightmares, accidents, the whole thing. I think she’s just terrified all of this is going to be taken away from her.”

“That’s completely understandable,” Hannah sighed, “She’s been through so much already. She’s probably scared this isn’t permanent. That any second, she’ll be back with Mark.”

Jordan rubbed at her face, then hesitated before murmuring, “We, um… we just actually found out we’re pregnant. It’s still early, but… we’re excited.”

Hannah’s face lit up, “Oh, that’s amazing news! Congratulations!”

Jordan smiles softly, “Thank you. We haven’t told many people yet. Monkey knows–we’re just not sure how she feels about it.”

“I think it might take her some time to process, but I think she’ll love being a big sister,” Hannah gave a thoughtful nod, “It’s clear she adores you both–I can see her being fiercely protective.”

“Yeah, I can picture that too,” Jordan chuckled, “I just want her to know that no matter what, she’s ours. That’s never going to change.”

Hannah’s expression was warm, “She knows, Jordan. Even when she’s scared, even when she’s struggling–she knows.”

“I really hope so,” Jordan exhaled a sigh, her shoulders dropping slightly.

Back upstairs, Leah finally managed to tug a jumper over your head, exhaling heavily as she braced herself for the next battle–brushing your hair, cleaning your teeth. Every little task felt like an uphill struggle.

She hated this. Hated seeing you this upset. None of this was fair.

“One task down, several more to go,” Leah muttered to herself, grabbing your hairbrush and a loose bobble, “Come here, Monkey–no, don’t start jumping on the bed. Sit down so I can do your hair.”

You ignored her, too busy bouncing on your bed with a renewed energy, “I don’t wanna sit down–I wanna watch Scooby Doo!”

Leah sighed, trying to wrangle you down, “I know, but we need to get ready first. When you come home, you can watch it. Okay?”

“No! I want to watch it now!” You kicked out defiantly.

“Monkey, not now,” Leah said firmly, running a hand through her hair, “We need to get ready for today.”

You shook your head in defiance, “No! I want to watch Scooby Doo!”

Leah inhaled deeply, keeping her patience, “Listen, my girl, I know you want to, but you can’t right now. You have to go out, remember? The contact centre, with Hannah like we talked about, remember?”

“Nuh uh, I don’t wanna go,” You mumbled in protest.

Leah’s heart clenched, “I know, my girl. But this isn’t our decision to make. When you come home, we can watch whatever you want. Scooby Doo, The Lion King–whatever you’d like, yeah?”

Your face scrunched up and your whole body tensed, “No! No, no, no! I’m not going!”

“Monkey, I… I know this is really hard,” Leah crouched in front of you, keeping her voice soft but steady, “I know you don’t want to go, but Hannah’s here now. We have to try, okay?”

“I… I’m scared,” Your bottom lip trembled.

Leah’s expression softened, “I know, my girl. I know that you’re scared but Hannah will be there with you the whole time. She won’t let anything bad happen.”

You hesitated to agree to the idea of this, “You… You promise?”

Leah swallowed past the lump in her throat, then held out her pinky, “When have I ever broken a promise, eh?”

After a moment, you hooked your pinky around hers, sniffling.

“I promise you, Monkey. I know you’re scared, but Hannah won’t let anything bad happen to you, will she?” Leah reminded you gently.

“N… No,” You replied, biting your bottom lip.

“Exactly,” Leah ruffled your hair, “So… can we finish getting ready?” She held up the hairbrush, “And when we get home, we’ll do something nice. A movie, hot chocolate, proper snuggles–how does that sound?”

You hesitated, eyes darting to the floor. Then, with a reluctant nod, you jumped off the bed, landing on the floor with a loud bang that made Leah wince.

“That’s my good girl,” Leah praised, pressing a light kiss to your temple before working quickly to brush through your tangled hair, knowing full well your patience wouldn’t last long.

“I’ll see you when you’re home, my girl,” Leah forced a smile as she crouched to your level, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “Just an hour, okay? That’s all.”

“We love you,” Jordan added, her voice steady, reassuring.

You huffed in response, crossing your arms. It felt too much like before—like all those times you begged not to go. Like all those times you hadn’t been given a choice.

You didn’t like that.

Leah hated this. She hated watching you step through the door. Hated the way your little fingers gripped Hannah’s hand instead of hers. Even knowing you were coming back didn’t make it easier. It never did.

The door clicked shut.

“She hates me,” Leah murmured, staring at the space you’d just occupied, arms wrapping protectively around herself as if that might hold her together.

Jordan scoffed softly, stepping closer, “She’s a child, Le. it’s not possible for her to hate you.”

“Yeah, but it feels like I sent her away,” Leah’s voice cracked, her arms tightening as if she could still hold onto you.

Jordan’s hand rested against Leah’s back, grounding her, “The difference is, she’s coming back. In less than two hours–”

Leah didn’t waver from the front door, “Right now, an hour feels like forever.”

Jordan sighed, placing a steadying hand on Leah’s back, “I know. But stressing yourself out like this isn’t good for you in your condition. You need to take it easy–”

Leah shot her a look, “In my condition? Wow, Jord, flattery like that will get you nowhere.”

Jordan rolled her eyes but softened, “You know what I mean. I just… I don’t want you worrying yourself sick over this. Just… remember to breathe.”

“How am I supposed to breathe easy when I know she’s in a room with him?” Leah whispered, jaw clenched.

Jordan hesitated before replying, choosing her words carefully, “I know. It’s impossible to wrap my head around, too.”

Leah scoffed bitterly, “It shouldn’t even be allowed. He deserves to be locked up for what he’s put her through.”

“I know,” Jordan’s voice was quiet but firm, “I agree with you, and if I could, I would. You know that.”

Leah exhaled sharply, rubbing her face tiredly, “It’s just… I feel so powerless. We’ve built this for her, Jord. Safety. Stability. And now some judge gets to undo all of it with a flick of a pen? It’s not fair.”

“It’s not,” Jordan squeezed her shoulder, “But this is where she belongs, Le. No matter what happens in that room, she’s coming home to us. She’s not the same little girl he controlled before—she has us now.”

“But what if he confuses her?” Leah’s voice was barely above a whisper now, “ What if he says all the right things and makes her doubt everything?”

“That isn’t going to happen. Because she’s our girl,” Jordan turned Leah to face her fully, “She’s ours. We’re not going to lose her again. We’ll remind her that she’s loved and that he doesn’t get to hurt her anymore.”

Leah blinked rapidly, swallowing against the tightness in her throat, “I just want her to be happy and I hate the fact that she has to be put through this. It’s just not right, and I hate to think about how this is going to affect her when she comes back.”

“I know,” Jordan murmured, squeezing Leah’s hand, “But right now, we don’t have a choice. And that’s just the hardest part, isn’t it?”

Leah didn’t answer. She just looked at the door again, like she could will you back home.

Jordan rubbed her arm gently, “Come on, sit down for a bit. You need to rest.”

“No,” Leah shook her head in disagreement, “I can’t sit still. Not when she’s there… with him.”

“Standing there won’t make the time go quicker, Le,” Jordan told her in a gentle tone of voice.

“I know,” Leah admitted, her voice dropping lower so it’s barely audible, “I just can’t stop thinking about her. She’s our girl. I’m worried about her. I’ll always be worried about her.”

“At least come and sit down on the sofa, Le. I’ll make us a drink and we can talk to pass the time, yeah?”

Leah hesitated but eventually nodded in agreement, “Alright, fine.”

You stared ahead at the building in front of you, sitting in the back seat of Hannah’s car. The sight of it made your stomach twist in knots. You could feel the weight around you, thick with dread.

“Do I… Do I have to go in there?” Your voice was small, fragile. You couldn’t hide how terrified you felt.

“I’m afraid so, Monkey. I’m sorry,” Hannah responded, her voice soft and apologetic. She glanced back at you, offering a sympathetic smile, “But I’ll be right there with you the whole time. We can take this slow, okay? You don’t have to say anything, not unless you want to.”

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment. You didn’t want to be here–you didn’t want to face him. Mark. The man who made your skin crawl just thinking about him.

Your stomach churned painfully at the thought of seeing him, let alone sitting in a room with him.

The moment you stepped inside the contact centre, everything felt wrong. It was as though you were walking straight into a trap. Your hands tightened around Hannah’s, your feet feeling like they were stuck to the floor. You tried to push down the rising panic in your chest, but it didn’t work.

You spotted Mark before he even saw you. His posture was slouched, knees bouncing too fast. His clothes were wrinkled, and the air around him smelled stale–like the alcohol from the night before.

Surely, he hadn’t come here still smelling like that, had he?

Then he looked up, and his face lit up in a way that sent a chill down your spine. It wasn’t a warm, welcome smile–it was a predatory kind of grin.

“Kiddo! Kiddo, over here!” Mark waved, his voice too loud, too enthusiastic.

Your body stiffened at the word–it felt cruel, like he didn’t care about how that word twisted your insides. You wanted to shrink into the floor and disappear.

“I don’t want to be here,” You mumbled, your feet still rooted to the floor, your body frozen in place.

Hannah’s hand gently pressed on your shoulder, a soft comfort against the rising fear inside of you, “I know, sweetheart. Let’s just take it one step at a time, okay? We don’t have to rush.”

But Mark’s voice sliced through the air again, you felt like you were trapped in a nightmare you couldn’t wake up from.

“Hey, kiddo,” He greeted again, his tone flat and too casual.

Hannah took a step forward, standing firm between you and Mark, “We’re not rushing this today, Mark. This is just a stepping stone, and we’re doing this at her pace. She’ll talk when she’s ready.”

Mark didn’t seem to care much about that. His eyes gleamed with an eager sort of energy like he was too excited about something he didn’t fully understand, “I brought you something, kiddo. I hope you like it.”

He dug into his khaki green jacket, pulling out a stuffed animal–a Chelsea bear.

Your heart sank. Chelsea? You didn’t care about Chelsea. You didn’t even want it. He knew you were an Arsenal fan–you played for the team. Arsenal is in your blood. It’s your home. He knew that, right? Why would he give you a Chelsea bear? Your stomach flipped in disgust. It wasn’t just the team–it was the fact that he thought this would make everything better.

He held out the bear to you, but you didn’t move. Your breath caught in your throat as panic surged through you, hot and suffocating.

“I–no–” You tried to speak, but the words were stuck in your throat. Your body started to tremble, your hands shaking as your mind screamed at you to run.

Hannah immediately noticed, stepping between you and Mark, her voice gentle but firm, “Mark, I don’t think that’s appropriate,” She glanced down at you, noticing the distress in your face, “We’re not doing this today.”

Mark shrugged, like he didn’t understand the gravity of the situation, “Right, course, but the thought counts, I guess,” He tossed the bear on the small table in front, too careless, too unconcerned.

It was too much. The room felt suffocating, the walls closing in on you. Your vision blurred, and tears welled up, hot and fast. Your body betrayed you in the worst possible way, and the burning shame flooded your chest as warmth spread through your clothes. You couldn’t stop it. You couldn’t control it. All you could do was crumble in place, the weight of it overwhelming.

Hannah was at your side in an instant, her hand warm and reassuring on your back, “Oh, sweetie, it’s okay,” She whispered, her voice gentle, but it couldn’t undo the flood of panic that had taken hold of you.

“I… I’m sorry,” You choked out, the words barely escaping your lips through the tears.

Then, Mark’s voice cut through the moment like a knife.

“Seriously, kid, are you a fucking retard or something?” He sneered, his tone laced with disgust, “What the fuck is wrong with you? Can’t even control yourself like a normal kid.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you flinched, your face burning in humiliation. Your tears came faster, the shame washed over you in waves. It felt like everything was falling apart.

Hannah stood frozen beside you, her mouth slightly open, but no words came out. Shock flickered across her face–disbelief, anger, something else–but she was too stunned to react in the moment. For a second, it seemed like it might say something, but instead, she just reached for your hand and pulled you toward the door, her grip firm yet careful.

As she reached for the handle, her gaze landed on the Chelsea bear sitting on the table. Without thinking, she scooped it up and tucked it under her arm as if it was something you’d want.

But you didn’t. Not now. Not when it felt tainted.

The woman didn’t say anything as she led you outside, didn’t even look back at Mark, but Hannah made a mental note of it to add to the report later down the line when she came to write it–his words were there, haunting her. She would make sure to note the vile comment he made, making it known to the court that this man was not capable of ever being given custody of his daughter again.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” You mumbled again, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Hey, it’s not your fault,” Hannah said softly, guiding you toward the car, “It’s going to be okay. Let’s get you home so you can clean up, alright?”

Hannah’s hand stayed firmly on your back, as if she could shield you from everything with just that touch. But as you climbed into the back seat, the dampness clinging to your clothes was unbearable, but there was nothing you could do--you had no spare clothes, no way to escape the lingering humiliation.

All you could do was sit there, staring out of the window, as the weight of it all pressed down on you.

The car ride back to Leah and Jordan’s house was silent. Not the peaceful kind of silence, but the thick, suffocating kind that pressed against your ribs, making it hard to breathe.

Hannah kept glancing at you in the rearview mirror, her face etched with worry, but she didn’t push. She didn’t ask you to talk. She just drove, her hands gripping the steering wheel a little too tight.

You stared out the window, numb. Mark’s words echoed in your head, rattling around like they were trying to carve themselves into your bones.

“Seriously, kid, are you a fucking retard or something?”

Your throat felt tight. Your chest ached.

By the time Hannah had pulled into the driveway, you couldn’t get out of the car fast enough.

“Hi, my girl. How was it…” Leah’s words were cut off as you bolted past her and up the stairs.

You didn’t stop running until you were in your bedroom, the door slamming shut behind you.

Your skin burned with humiliation. The damp fabric of your clothes clung to you like a second skin, suffocating, a disgusting reminder of what had happened. You yanked at them, stripping them off as fast as you could, your fingers trembling with rage and shame.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Mark’s words cut through you, sharper than any knife.

You dug your nails into your arms, pressing hard and trying to ground yourself–an attempt to drown out his voice. But it wouldn’t stop. It wouldn’t stop.

Stop, stop, stop.

You squeezed your eyes shut, but it didn’t help. His voice–mocking, cruel–kept coming back, over and over, like a relentless wave.

“Are you a fucking retard?”

Meanwhile, in the living room, Leah and Jordan stood frozen, exchanging worried glances as the sound of your bedroom slamming echoed through the house.

Hannah exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of her neck, “Yeah… so that went about as well as you’d expected.”

Jordan folded her arms, “That bad?”

Hannah hesitated, then nodded, “She… had an accident,” She kept her voice gentle, careful, but it didn’t stop the way Leah’s brows furrowed with concern, “And Mark… he–” She sighed, shaking her head, “Well, his words weren’t exactly pleasant.”

Leah’s jaw tightened, “What did he say?”

Hannah hesitated again, but there was no way to sugarcoat it, “He called for a ‘fucking retard’ for it.”

Silence.

Jordan inhaled sharply, her grip tightening on the back of the sofa tightening until her knuckles turned white.

Leah’s entire body stiffened, something dangerous flickering behind her eyes, “He did what!?”

Hannah held up a hand, a silent plea for them to stay calm, “She’s going to be spiralling. It’s going to be tense for a bit, and I think it’d be smart to be prepared for any future visits–”

Leah’s temper snapped, cutting Hannah off, “You mean he’s getting to see her again?! After he called her such vulgar things!” Her words were sharp, loaded with unstrained anger.

“It’s not up to me to decide that, Leah,” Hannah’s shoulders tightened, her gaze dropping for a moment before meeting Leah’s, “I’ll note it in my report, but ultimately…” Her voice trailed off, the weight of the situation settling in.

“It’s the court that makes that decision,” Jordan finished her thought, her tone grim.

Leah pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling a slow breath, “I’m going to go and talk to her,” She muttered, already turning toward the hallway.

Jordan didn’t stop her. She knew better than to get in Leah’s way when it came to you. Instead, she turned back to Hannah, voice low and controlled, “What else happened?”

“I’m not going to sugarcoat it, Jordan. He was… He was horrible to her,” Hannah admitted.

Jordan exhaled sharply, running a hand down her face as she tried to steady her anger bubbling under her skin, “That fucking bastard,” She muttered, pacing the living room.

Hannah nodded grimly, “Yeah, it was bad, Jordan,” She hesitated, her voice softening, “She was doing okay at first. I mean, she was nervous, but she was handling it. And then Mark just–” She let out a frustrated breath, “The second the accident happened, he flipped. You could see it in her face, the way she just… shut down.”

“I swear to God,” Jordan clenched her jaw, eyes dark with fury, “If the courts ever make her go back there, I’ll–”

“I know,” Hannah’s voice was gentle, but firm, “But right now, she’s here. She’s safe. And she needs you both to remember that.”

Jordan swallowed hard, forcing herself to take a deep breath, “She’s gonna spiral,” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.

Hannah nodded, “She already is.”

Jordan rubbed at her temple, “We should’ve known something like this would happen. We should’ve–”

“Stop,” Hannah placed a hand on Jordan’s arm, “You couldn’t have stopped this. You couldn’t have prevented it. All you do now is be there to help her through it.”

“Yeah,” Jordan exhaled through her nose, shoulders slumped slightly, “Yeah, you’re right,” She murmured.

“I usually am,” Hannah smirked, then sobered, “You should pack that bag for the next visit, just in case. Even if it doesn’t happen again. It’ll be good to have it to stop her going through that embarrassment again.”

Jordan sighed, nodding, “I’ll make sure it’s taken care of and ready for next time.”

Leah was furious. How could she not be? Hearing the venom in Mark’s words, knowing how deeply they cut–you–it made her blood boil. The fact he still had any access to you at all was unfathomable. She hated it.

Every. Single. Bit of it.

Her footsteps were quiet as she ascended the stairs, but the weight of what had just happened pressed down on her like a heavy fog. The air felt thick, charged with emotions too overwhelming to name.

You were so fragile, and Mark’s words had carved through you like a blade. Leah knew that, knew the way you carried wounds that no one could see.

At the top of the stairs, Leah hesitated. A muffled scraping noise reached her ears, followed by the sound of something heavy shifting across the floor.

Her stomach dropped.

What is she doing?

Leah moved quickly, her grip tightening on the railing as she reached your door. Then came another sound–wood dragging, a soft grunt of frustration.

“Monkey?” Leah called out, worriedly as she felt her heart tighten.

Leah pushed open the door, just enough to see you struggling, your small frame straining as you tried to shift the chest of drawers across the floor. Your breathing was shallow, your movements frantic, desperate.

Leah’s pulse kicked up. Instinct took over as she stepped inside, “Hey, hey, what’re you doing?” She asked frantically, “You’re going to hurt yourself, Monkey!”

Your head snapped up, eyes wide and panicked. For a split second, you froze–a deer caught in headlights–before quickly looking away, biting your lip. You didn’t speak. Didn’t move.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself, my girl,” Leah repeated her words, softening her tone, “Come on, let’s go sit down on the bed and talk, yeah?”

You didn’t listen. You clenched your fists and pushed harder, your whole body shaking with effort.

Leah’s heart clenched. She knew you were spiralling. She had seen it before, the way you tried to make yourself small, tried to block out the world. But barricading yourself in your room–was this the only way you thought you could stay safe?

Then, in one final shove, the chest of drawers teetered precariously. The furniture wobbled, tilting at a dangerous angle. Leah’s heart lurched.

“Monkey, no!” Leah lunged forward, her reflexes kicking in and she reached and caught it before it could fall on top of you. Her hands gripped the edge, holding it steady, and for a brief moment, everything felt like it was frozen in place.

You stared up at her, your breathing coming in shallow gasps, eyes wide with something Leah couldn’t quite name–fear, shock, something deeper.

Then, like a switch had flipped, you whimpered and scrambled backwards, retreating into the farthest corner of the room.

You curled into yourself, knees drawn to your chest, hands shaking as they flew over your head, “I… I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

Leah’s heart clenched.

“Hey,” She crouched down in front of you, slow and careful. She knew better than to move quickly, knew that right now, any wrong step could send you further into yourself, “It’s okay. You’re alright. Lucky I came in here just in time, eh?” She asked in a gentle tone of voice.

But the moment that Leah lowered herself, you let out an ear-piercing scream, raw and filled with something that Leah could only describe as terror.

Leah winced at the sheer volume, barely processing the frantic footsteps pounding up the stairs before Jordan’s panicked voice rang out, “Le?! What’s going on?!”

“Easy, Jord,” Leah called back, keeping her focus on you.

Jordan appeared in the doorway, her face tight with concern, “Are you alright?”

Leah didn’t move, she didn’t break her gaze from you, “I’m fine. Monkey is… she just needs a minute. It’s fine, Jord. Just go back downstairs. I can handle it.”

Jordan hesitated, “Are you sure?”

“I’m positive,” Leah’s voice was steady, controlled, “Why don’t you start on dinner? We’ll be down soon.”

Jordan still didn’t look convinced, but after a long pause, she relented, “Okay. Just.. call me if you need anything.”

“I will,” Leah murmured in agreement, turning to face her girlfriend, “Pop the nuggets and smiley faces in and we will be down in a bit, yeah?”

Once Jordan disappeared, Leah turned back to you–still curled up in the corner, still trembling.

Leah exhaled slowly, making herself as non-threatening as possible, “It’s okay, my girl. I know you’re scared. You’re safe here. I promise.”

She didn’t reach for you. She just stayed there, patient and waiting.

Because she wasn’t going anywhere.

And neither were you.

Leah lowered herself onto the floor, careful and deliberate, but not too close. Just near enough that you could feel her presence without it overwhelming you. She sat cross-legged, hands resting loosely on her knees, making no move to touch you or close the space between you.

You stayed where you were–huddled in the farthest corner, knees drawn to your chest, eyes flitting between her and the door like a trapped animal searching for an escape.

Leah didn’t push. She didn’t call your name again or try to coax you out of your fear. She just sat. Quiet. Waiting.

Minutes passed, stretching endlessly, the only sounds in the room were your shaky breaths and the faint creak of the house settling.

Your fingers twitched against the fabric of your sleeves, fists clenching and unclenching. The panic hadn’t fully faded, but the longer Leah stayed–unmoving, unwavering, safe–the more the sharp edges of it dulled.

Your breathing was still too quick, too shallow, but your muscles ached from holding yourself so tight. The weight of the exhaustion pressed down on you, creeping in slowly, making it harder and harder to stay curled up so small.

You shifted–just barely. Your toes inched forward, the tiniest movement but Leah noticed. She didn’t react. Didn’t even glance up. She just kept sitting there, steady as ever, as if she had all the time in the world.

A few more seconds passed. Then another tiny shift.

Another.

And another.

You weren’t even aware of how it happened, how little by little, you edged forward, drawn in by the quiet safety of her presence.

Then, finally–hesitantly–you reached out. Your fingers ghosted over the fabric of Leah’s hoodie, barely touching, like you were testing if she was really there.

Leah still didn’t move.

Didn’t speak.

She just let you come to her.

Your breathing hitched as you closed the last bit of space between you, uncertainty flickering in your eyes. But when Leah still didn’t do anything, when she just stayed solid and quiet and safe, you finally let go.

Wordlessly, you climbed into her lap.

Your body was stiff at first, curled in tight like you were bracing for something, but Leah just adjusted slightly to give you all the space you needed to settle.

And then–without a word–she wrapped her arms around you.

Soft. Steady. Warm.

She didn’t say anything. Didn’t shush you or tell you it was okay. She just held you in her arms.

Leah’s hands moved in slow, absentminded strokes over your back, grounding you with nothing more than the steady rhythm of her touch.

You let out a tiny, shaky breath against her shoulder, your body slowly unwinding from its tightly coiled state.

Leah still didn’t speak. Didn’t ask for the words you couldn’t give. She just sat there, holding you, until the fear wasn’t quite so sharp.

Until the tension melted away, leaving only the quiet, unspoken comfort of her arms around you.

And for the first time since the call with Mark, you felt safe.

147 notes · View notes

woso-scotland · 1 day ago

Text

adoption day | stargirl

pairings: alexia putellas x teen!reader, olga rios x teen!reader

summary: you manage to make you adoption day chaotic

warnings: abandonment issues(?)

notes: the ending is a bit similar to teenage dream but this was written first and idk how else to end 😭 i almost revealed estrella’s real name but decided against it

The house is too quiet. Too quiet. Alexia’s stomach is in knots as she turns to Alba, her voice sharp but low. “What do you mean she’s not in the house?”

Her eyes flick toward the hallway, making sure Eli and Olga don’t overhear. She doesn’t want to worry them— not yet. But the urgency in her voice is unmistakable.

Alba forces a tight-lipped smile, waving casually as Eli and Olga step out to grab more disposable plates and cutlery for the party later that evening. The second the door shuts behind them, her expression drops.

“I mean that I have torn through every single room in your godforsaken house, and Estrella is not in any of them,” she hisses. Alexia’s stomach sinks. “We have to find her,” she says immediately, already grabbing her keys. “We have to be at the courthouse soon.”

Alba groans, rubbing a hand over her face. “She knows what today is. Why would she disappear now?”

Alexia doesn’t have an answer.

They search everywhere. The backyard. The front yard. The neighbor’s driveway, just in case. The park down the street. Your favorite café around the corner. Nothing. No sign of you.

Alexia’s worry mutates, twisting into frustration. She pulls out her phone— no missed calls, no texts. Not even a single, stupid emoji from you.

“She’s going to give me a heart attack before she’s even legally my kid,” she mutters, pacing the sidewalk.

Alba, just as frantic but unwilling to admit it, crosses her arms. “You think she ran?”

Alexia stops pacing. The thought stings more than she wants to acknowledge. “No. No, she wouldn’t.”

“She might,” Alba counters, voice quieter now. “She panics sometimes. Maybe it’s too much for her.”

Alexia clenches her jaw. “Then we find her and tell her it’s okay.”

They split up again, checking every place they can think of, but the clock is ticking.

The courthouse appointment looms closer.

And still, there’s no sign of you.

Alexia’s grip tightens around her phone, her breath coming short. She’s about to call the police, or hunt you down herself, or…

The front door creaks open.

Both she and Alba whirl around at the same time, watching as you shuffle inside.

You look exhausted.

Hair slightly disheveled, hoodie too big on you, shoes scuffed like you’ve been walking for hours. Your expression is guarded, your shoulders hunched—like you’re bracing for impact. But more than anything, you look guilty.

Relief crashes over Alexia in a dizzying wave. It’s quick, sharp, and almost immediately replaced by frustration.

“¿Dónde has estado?” she demands, crossing the room in seconds. Her voice is firm, but there’s a raw edge to it. “Where were you? We’ve been looking everywhere.”

You hesitate, your gaze flickering toward Alba before landing back on Alexia. “Out.”

“Out where?” she presses, hands hovering near your shoulders, like she wants to shake the answer out of you but is afraid you might break.

You shift uncomfortably. “Just… around.”

Alba narrows her eyes. “Around where?”

You glance at the floor, shrugging slightly. “Just walking.”

Alexia exhales sharply, running a hand through her hair. “Estrella, hoy es el día. We have to be at the courthouse soon—”

“I know,” you say quickly.

She stops, studying you. There’s something off. Something unreadable in your expression.

“Then why disappear?” she asks, quieter now.

You don’t answer right away. The front door swings open again, saving you. Olga and Eli step inside, bags in hand. The air in the room shifts immediately, tension settling in thick and heavy. Olga raises a brow, glancing between all of you, while Eli exhales like she already knows exactly what just happened.

“You found her,” Eli notes, setting the bags down.

“Barely,” Alba mutters.

Alexia’s frustration softens, just a little. Her eyes stay on you, the fight in her fading into something warmer, something quieter.

“You’re here now,” she murmurs, reaching up to cup the side of your face briefly before letting her hand drop. “That’s what matters.”

You look away, shifting on your feet.

Olga watches you carefully. “You okay, bebita?”

You force a small smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. “Yeah. Just… a lot on my mind.”

Alexia sighs. She doesn’t push. Not now.

There will be time for that later.

“Come on,” she says, nudging your shoulder lightly. “Let’s get you changed.” A small smile tugs at the corner of her lips. “We’re going to make this official.”

You nod, following her down the hall.

But even as you move, your expression remains unreadable.

You stand stiffly in front of the courthouse, fingers twisting the fabric of your dress in a desperate attempt to smooth it down, to steady your shaking hands, to control something. But nothing feels in your control.

Your chest is tight, your stomach churns, and your vision blurs slightly as you blink rapidly, trying to hold yourself together. You should be happy. This should be one of the best days of your life. So why does it feel like you can’t breathe?

A warm hand presses gently against your back, and you flinch so hard it’s obvious.

“Mi amor,” Olga’s voice is soft, laced with concern. Her eyes scan your face, taking in the tension in your jaw, the way your shoulders hunch like you’re trying to make yourself smaller. “You guys go ahead, find the room,” she tells the others, not taking her eyes off you. “I’m going to talk to Estrellita real quick.”

Alexia, already watching you closely, doesn’t hesitate. She steps forward, placing a quick, gentle kiss on your forehead, then on Olga’s, before catching up to her sister and mother.

Olga guides you toward a bench overlooking a small park, where children run freely, their laughter ringing through the air. It feels like another world—one you can’t quite reach.

She sits beside you, but not too close, giving you space, waiting.

“Alright, mi nena.” Her voice is low, soothing, but firm. “What’s going on? You’ve been quiet all day. It’s not like you.”

A sharp exhale rips from your chest—too deep, too heavy, like you’re forcing the weight of everything inside you out in one breath. Your hands clench together in your lap.

“I’m scared, Olga.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, but she hears every word.

“I want this. I want to be Ale’s daughter. She’s been more of a mom to me than my real mom ever was. I want to be part of this family, officially, but I’m terrified. What if one day she decides she’s not ready? Or she changes her mind?” Your voice cracks, but you push forward, words spilling out faster now, harder to control.

“What if one day you and Ale want to start a family and I prevent that? What if I just—get in the way?”

Olga shakes her head instantly, but you don’t let her interrupt.

“I can’t let that happen,” you murmur, eyes locked on the pavement like if you look up, everything will become too real. “I spent my whole life praying for a family like this—one that wanted me, that cared about me, that let me just…be me. And now that I have it, I’m scared that once it’s real, once it’s official, it’ll all just—” You take a deep, shaky breath, voice barely holding together. “Go away.”

Olga doesn’t say anything at first. Instead, she pulls you into her arms, cradling you against her chest like she’s trying to shield you from every fear, every doubt, every ghost from your past whispering that you don’t deserve this.

You feel a tear drop onto your hair.

“Mi amor,” she whispers, voice thick with emotion. “Oh, mi corazón.” She pulls back just enough to cup your face, forcing you to meet her eyes. “Listen to me, and listen carefully. You are not in the way. You will never be in the way. Alexia, Eli, Alba, me, chose you. Not out of obligation. Not because we had to. Because we want you. Because we love you.”

Your breath shudders. “But what if—”

“No.” Olga shakes her head firmly, thumb brushing against your cheek. “There is no what if. This is your family. We are your family. And that is never going to change.”

You don’t realize you’re crying until she wipes a tear from your cheek.

You let her hold you for a little while longer, letting her warmth sink into your bones, letting yourself believe, really believe, that maybe, just maybe, she’s telling the truth.

Eventually, Olga presses one last kiss to your forehead and stands, holding out her hand.

“Ready?”

No. You’re not sure you’ll ever be ready. But you nod anyway and let her lead you inside.

The moment you step into the courtroom, you freeze.

The room is packed. Not just with Alexia, Alba, and Eli. Not just with Olga.

The entire Barcelona team is there. The coaching staff. Your friends—Vicky, Lamine, Alejandro, Héctor, Pau. People who have been there for you, who have stood by you, who have loved you without hesitation.

Your breath catches, and for a split second, that familiar panic claws at your chest. But then Alexia steps forward, smiling at you with so much warmth, so much love, that the fear starts to melt away.

She reaches for your hand, squeezing it tightly. “Come on, mi Estrelleta.”

You let her guide you forward, your other hand still holding onto Olga.

The judge begins speaking, but the words blur together. Your heart pounds as the moment approaches, as everything you’ve feared and longed for comes to a single point in time.

“Do you, Alexia Putellas, accept this young lady as your legal daughter, with all the rights and responsibilities that come with it?”

Alexia doesn’t even hesitate. “Sí. Always.”

“Then by the power vested in me, I hereby declare Alexia Putellas as the legal parent and guardian of ‘Estrella’ Putellas.”

The room erupts into cheers.

And before you can fully process what just happened, Alexia sweeps you into her arms, lifting you off the ground as you cling to her, burying your face in her shoulder.

“I love you,” she whispers fiercely into your ear. “Forever. Unconditionally. Do you hear me?”

You nod against her, too overwhelmed to speak.

“I’m never letting you go,” she promises. “Not now. Not ever.”

Even though you never responded, you believe it.

The party is in full swing. Laughter echoes through the house, glasses clink, music hums in the background. The Barcelona team is here, the coaching staff, your friends, everyone who has loved and supported you. There’s warmth, celebration, and a steady stream of people hugging you, ruffling your hair, calling your name with joy.

The air feels thick, the noise pressing against your skin, the walls closing in just slightly. Your heart beats too fast, and your breath comes too shallow. You can’t explain it; it’s not sadness, it’s not fear, but it’s something. A pressure in your chest, a weight in your throat.

Alexia notices. Of course she does. She’s been watching you all night, eyes flicking to you between conversations, gauging every twitch of your fingers, every shift in your expression. So when she sees you standing by the back door, shoulders tight, eyes distant, she excuses herself from a conversation with Lucy and moves toward you without hesitation.

She doesn’t say anything at first. Just nudges your arm gently with her elbow. “Come on,” she murmurs, tilting her head toward the door. “Let’s get some air.”

You nod, relieved, and follow her outside.

The night air is cool, crisp against your overheated skin. The backyard is quiet, the noise of the party muffled behind the closed door. Alexia leads you to the steps of the patio, sinking down onto them, and you follow suit.

For a while, neither of you speak. You just sit there, breathing in the fresh air, letting the tension in your shoulders loosen bit by bit.

Alexia stretches out her legs, hands resting loosely on her knees. Then, after a moment, she glances at you. “Too much?”

You exhale, nodding. “Yeah. I just needed a second.”

She hums in understanding, gaze drifting up to the sky. “I get it. Big days like this… they don’t always hit right away. Sometimes it sneaks up on you later.”

You swallow, staring at your hands. “It feels real now,” you admit quietly.

Alexia turns her head slightly, studying you. “Does that scare you?”

You shake your head, but then pause, reconsidering. “Maybe a little. Not because I don’t want it. But because… I’m not used to things like this being permanent.”

Alexia’s chest tightens. She wants to tell you that this is different. That she’s not going anywhere. That this is forever. But she knows words alone won’t make you believe it. You’ve spent too much of your life with people making promises they couldn’t keep.

So instead, she shifts closer, draping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into her side.

You lean into her instinctively, letting yourself rest against her, feeling the steady rise and fall of her breath. It’s grounding.

After a while, you break the silence. Your voice is quiet, but sure. “I called you mamá in my head today.”

Alexia goes very, very still.

You hesitate, then let out a soft, nervous laugh. “I’ve never called anyone else that before. Not really. I was scared to say it out loud. But… it felt right.”

Alexia exhales shakily, and when you glance up at her, there’s something raw in her eyes, something vulnerable, something that looks suspiciously like unshed tears.

She cups the side of your face, her thumb brushing lightly against your cheek, like she’s memorizing the moment. Then, her voice barely above a whisper, she asks, “Do you want to say it now?”

You hesitate. Just for a second. And then, you take a breath and let it slip past your lips, quiet but steady.

“Mamá.”

Alexia lets out a choked breath. Then she’s pulling you into her arms, holding you tight, her hand cradling the back of your head as she presses a kiss to your temple. “Mi niña,” she whispers, voice thick with emotion. “Mi amor. Mi hija.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, pressing yourself closer into her warmth, into the safety of her embrace.

For the first time in your life, the word mamá feels like safe.

377 notes · View notes

woso-scotland · 2 days ago

Text

You're a highly successful basketball player who has just been transferred to Barcelona's women's team. The number 11 holds deep personal significance for you. Among the spectators is none other than football superstar Alexia Putellas, synonymous with the number 11 in Barça history, watching from the sidelines.

What starts as mutual admiration quickly turns into something more, fuelled by weeks of playful yet intense online flirting. The chemistry between you and Alexia becomes undeniable.

It had been a couple of days since your last exchange with Alexia, and things had been…quiet. Too quiet. You weren’t sure what she was planning, but you knew it was coming. So, naturally, the one time you were out not thinking about her, the universe decided to play a cruel joke.

You were grabbing a drink with your sister in law, she got you out your apartment that was being over run by your family in town visiting and staying with you, your over bearing older sister wouldn’t shut up about Alexia and her disapproval of your online games. Lisa brought you out seeing your face before it blew up, she left her husband your brother Luke behind to talk Abby down. It wasn’t a date. Far from it. But the setting? Yeah, it definitely looked like one. A nice rooftop spot. Dim lighting. A corner table.

You were mid-laugh at something Lisa said when someone approached your table, stopping just beside you. "Uh, hi—sorry to interrupt."

You turned your head, looking at the woman standing there. She was watching you with something that looked a lot like amusement, but there was also a hint of nervousness in the way she shifted slightly on her feet.

"Do I—?" You started, trying to place her. It never even crossed your mind she could be a fan of yours but it all became clear pretty quickly.

She let out a small, slightly awkward laugh. "You don’t know who I am, do you?" You didn’t want to say no, but…yeah. Before you could answer, she sighed and quickly filled in the blanks herself.

"I’m Alba. Alexia’s sister."

Oh.

Your sister in law beside you let out a low chuckle, clearly entertained by the way your expression shifted. "Right," you said, recovering. "Alba. Nice to meet you."

She gave you a look like she wasn’t quite convinced, but she smiled anyway. "Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your date” You so did, you thought “—saw you and figured I should say hi." You opened your mouth to argue the date part, but she wasn’t done. "I just—uh, well—Alexia’s mentioned you. A lot." Your brows lifted slightly. Alba winced. "I probably shouldn’t have said that."

Lisa laughed. "No, no, please—go on."

Alba shook her head, you could already see the headlines forming in your mind.

Bumped into Alexia’s sister. Looked like a date. Great.

Before you could say anything, Alba leaned in slightly, lowering her voice. "I’d be careful if I were you," she said, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Alexia’s been... determined lately."

You narrowed your eyes slightly. "Determined?"

Alba just smiled. "You’ll see."

And with that, she was gone, strolling back to her own table like she hadn’t just completely thrown you off.

Lisa turned to you, grinning. "She panicked so fast."

You exhaled, rubbing a hand down your face. "Yeah. But did you hear what she said?"

"That Alexia won’t shut up about you?"

You shot her a look. "Not the exact wording she used."

She just smirked. "Close enough."

You sat back in your chair, mulling over the interaction. Alba had been nervous, sure, but she’d also let something slip. And now, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. Alexia’s mentioned you. A lot. You looked to her as she looked to you, you were wondering if and what she would tell Alexia.

Of course she would tell Alexia. You found your eyes back on her a short time later when her attention was on her phone her thumbs flying across the screen rather than her friends.

You didn’t expect to hear from Alexia so soon. But the second you checked your phone after getting to training an hour later, you saw her name.

Alexia: So… you had an interesting lunch today.

You exhaled, as you started typing.

You: Didn’t realise I was being monitored.

It only took a few seconds for her response to come through.

Alexia: Wasn’t hard to find out. People talk.

You could feel the tension in those words. She wasn’t being playful. She was jealous. A slow smirk pulled at your lips. Now this was interesting.

You: Let me guess. You think it was a date?

There was a pause.

Alexia: Was it?

You could practically see her expression. Arms crossed, jaw tight. You took your time before responding.

You: Would it bother you if it was?

Another pause. Longer this time.

Alexia: You’re avoiding the question.

You chuckled, shaking your head.

You: So are you.

A full minute passed.

Alexia: Come to my game this weekend.

Your eyebrows lifted slightly. She was switching tactics. Trying to regain control. But you weren’t going to make it that easy.

You: Not sure I’m free.

It was a lie. You definitely could be. Alexia, to her credit, didn’t take the bait.

Alexia: Try to be.

And just like that, the conversation ended. You stared at your screen for a moment, exhaling. So this was how she wanted to play it. Fine. You’d see how badly she really wanted you there.

You did show up. Of course, you did. Not because Alexia asked—no, that would’ve been too easy. You told yourself it was because you had nothing better to do. Because you liked watching football. Because it was just coincidence that your schedule suddenly cleared up. You didn’t go alone however. Your family was in town, and when they heard you were planning to watch a football match, they insisted on coming along. That was the reason you were here. Your parents weren’t huge football fans, but they liked seeing you actually take time off from basketball. Your siblings, on the other hand, were all too eager to witness what they called the most obvious situationship in sports history.

You ignored their teasing. Mostly. But as you sat in the stadium, surrounded by them, you realised this was a test. Alexia didn’t just have an audience tonight—she had your audience. And she knew it. From the second the match kicked off, she was electric. She moved across the pitch with purpose, barely breaking a sweat as she dictated the game. Every time she touched the ball, something happened. A perfectly timed pass, a feint that left her defender stumbling, a moment of pure class that had the crowd roaring. Your siblings were eating it up.

"Is she always this good?" one of them asked, leaning closer.

"No," you muttered, watching as Alexia casually flicked the ball over an opponent’s head and collected it like it was nothing.

"She’s better."

And then, it happened. She scored. A ridiculous, impossible goal. The kind of goal that only someone showing off would even attempt. The stadium erupted. But Alexia she didn’t celebrate. She turned. Searched the crowd. Found you. Your breath caught as she held your gaze, her expression unreadable—except for the slight smirk tugging at her lips. Then, something changed. Her eyes flickered slightly to your right. To the person sitting next to you. Your sister-in-law. The same woman Alba had told her you went on a date with. And that’s when you saw it. Not through a phone screen. Not hidden behind playful messages or carefully worded captions.

But real, unmistakable jealousy.

Alexia’s smirk vanished. Her brows twitched, her jaw tightened ever so slightly. You had never seen her lose composure before. Until now. She tore her eyes away and turned sharply, jogging back toward the centre circle with stiff shoulders and a sudden, almost aggressive determination. Your sibling nudged you, barely holding in their laugh. "Oh, she definitely clocked that." You just sat back, exhaling slowly. This game wasn’t over. Not even close.

It wasn’t Alexia who reached out first.

It was Alba.

The message popped up on your phone late that night, hours after the game.

Alba Putellas: I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but she’s not handling it well.

You stared at the screen, rereading the words a few times. Of all the people you expected to hear from, Alexia’s younger sister wasn’t on the list. Before you could even process a response, another message came through.

Alba Putellas: I’m assuming you already know she saw you at the game.

Yeah. You definitely knew. You had seen the jealousy on Alexia’s face firsthand. You debated ignoring the message—keeping whatever this was between you and Alexia. But then your phone buzzed again.

Alba Putellas: She’s still annoyed about it, by the way. Hours later. Which, for her, means something.

You smirked, leaning back against your couch. Interesting. Instead of messaging back, you decided to let Alba talk. And she did.

Alba Putellas: I mean, I knew she was into you before, but I’ve never seen her like this. Alba Putellas: You’ve got her acting out. And Alexia doesn’t act out.

That was exactly why this was so fun. Because Alexia had spent weeks playing it cool—flirting with you, teasing you, pushing boundaries—but now? Now she was off balance. And she hated it. After a few moments, you finally replied.

You: Did she send you to message me?

Alba Putellas: Nope. If she knew, she’d kill me.

That made you laugh. Then a final message came through.

Alba Putellas: Just don’t make her suffer too much. She’s stubborn, but she’s not as smooth as she pretends to be.

You tapped your fingers against your phone, considering your options. Alexia had been the one pulling the strings this whole time. Maybe it was time to pull a few of your own.

You left it longer than a day this time. There was nothing. No likes. No comments. No subtle jabs or cryptic captions. Just silence. And the fans definitely noticed. At first, it was just a few speculative comments under your old posts. Then came the tweets—screenshots of your profile, of Alexia’s, of the suddenly empty space where your usual interactions used to be.

Did they fall out? Why is it so quiet all of a sudden? We were literally watching them flirt in real-time—what happened?!

You ignored it. You wanted Alexia to feel the absence. To see what it was like when you weren’t constantly playing into her game. But the moment that really sent people spiralling? When you finally posted something. Not a response to Alexia. Not some cryptic, teasing message. Just a simple family photo. A picture from your family’s visit to Barcelona—your parents, your siblings, even your sister-in-law.

Everyone smiling, arms draped around each other.

Liked by Alexia Putellas.

That was all it took. The fans exploded. Screenshots, tweets, theories—it was everywhere within minutes. And not long after that, your phone buzzed.

Alexia: Nice picture.

You stared at the message, waiting for more. For her to bring up the game. The jealousy. The fact that she’d spent the entire match playing like she had something to prove to you. But nothing. She was ignoring it completely. Your lips twitched. Classic. If Alexia wanted to pretend nothing had happened, fine. You could play that game too. But she was the one who had broken the silence first. And that meant, slowly but surely, the control was shifting.

You let Alexia’s message sit. No rush to reply. No double-texting. Just a silent acknowledgment that she had been the one to break first. And the longer you left it, the more you knew she’d be waiting. Because Alexia Putellas was not used to being ignored. The fans had already gone into a meltdown over her like on your post, but now? Now they were watching even closer. Every tweet, every Instagram story, every single move was under scrutiny. You were enjoying it.

Eventually, after a couple of hours, you texted back.

You: Thanks. Family’s been visiting.

Short. Simple. No flirting. No teasing. And then, for fun, you left your phone on silent and went about your day. When you checked back later?

Alexia: They had a good time? Alexia: Barcelona treat them well?

The corner of your mouth twitched. She wasn’t directly addressing the past few days, but she was trying. Still, you took your time replying. When you finally did:

You: Yeah, they loved it. You: Might have to make it a regular thing.

You didn’t say who they loved seeing. Didn’t say what had made the trip so enjoyable. But you knew Alexia would read between the lines. And, just as expected, she didn’t leave you on read for long.

Alexia: Good.

You chuckled at the short reply, shaking your head. She was holding back. You could tell. She wanted to say something more, but after days of silence, she wasn’t sure how to play this. For once, you had the control. And that was fun. So you left her on read. Just to see what she’d do next.

Alexia didn’t double-text. Not at first. She let hours pass—too many hours for someone as stubborn as her. But you knew better. You knew she wasn’t the type to sit back quietly. So when your phone finally buzzed again, you weren’t surprised.

Alexia: You’re quiet.

You smirked, stretching out on your couch as you read it. She was trying to be subtle. Trying to act like she wasn’t affected. But if she really didn’t care? She wouldn’t be texting at all. You let a few more minutes pass before responding.

You: Been busy.

Nothing more. No explanation. No opening for her to steer the conversation back into something comfortable. You were making her work for it now. And, after another long pause, she finally took the bait.

Alexia: Busy doing what?

Now that made you grin. You could practically hear the curiosity in her voice, even through text. And if she was asking, it meant she’d been thinking about it. Thinking about you. So you kept her waiting just a little longer before replying.

You: You seem interested.

The three little dots popped up almost immediately. Then disappeared. Then popped up again. She was debating her next move.

Alexia: Maybe I am.

It was bold. Blunt. A step forward after days of skirting around whatever had been building between you two. But you weren’t about to let her off that easy.

You: Oh? What changed?

Another pause. Another moment where she had to decide if she was really going to commit to this.

Alexia: Nothing changed. Alexia: I’ve been interested.

And that was the moment the game shifted again. Because now, Alexia wasn’t playing it cool anymore.

She was chasing.

You let Alexia’s message sit there for a moment, just staring at it.

I’ve been interested.

Direct. No teasing. No dodging. She wasn’t playing anymore. And, honestly? That made it more fun. Still, you weren’t about to let her off too easy.

You: Took you long enough to admit it.

The read receipt popped up instantly.

Alexia: You didn’t make it easy.

You chuckled, shaking your head.

You: Wasn’t my job to make it easy for you.

This time, her response came faster.

Alexia: No?

You: No.

Alexia: Then what is your job?

You tilted your head, considering her question. The easy answer? To mess with her. To push and pull until she finally cracked. But now, Alexia was actually trying. So maybe it was time to see just how far she was willing to go.

You: Is that why you were jealous of my sister-in-law?

Read at 11:42 PM.

Three dots appeared immediately.

Then disappeared.

Then reappeared.

And stayed there.

You leaned back, waiting. Because this was the moment of truth. She could deny it. Act like she hadn’t been glaring daggers across the stadium. Pretend she wasn’t sulking when she saw you sitting next to the woman Alba had wrongly assumed was your date.

Alexia: I wasn’t jealous.

You snorted.

You: Lying doesn’t suit you, Putellas.

Another pause. Longer this time.

Alexia: Maybe I was.

You grinned.

You: Figured.

Alexia: Shut up.

You: Make me.

The read receipt lingered for a full minute before she answered.

Alexia: Careful what you wish for.

And just like that, the game was really on. Alexia’s last message lingered on your screen.

Careful what you wish for.

A challenge. A warning. A promise. And yet, she still hadn’t made her move. So you let her sit with it. Let her wonder if you’d push back. Eventually, though, your patience ran thin. You replied the next morning sat in your cubicle ready for training to start.

You: Big words. You gonna back them up?

Read at 9:07 AM.

Nothing.

You smirked. She was thinking. Good. A few minutes passed before your phone finally buzzed.

Alexia: Where are you right now?

You raised an eyebrow.

You: Why? You gonna come prove your point?

Alexia: Maybe.

Now that caught your attention. Because this wasn’t just teasing anymore. She was actually considering it. You knew it. She knew it. And when you didn’t answer right away, she pressed again.

Alexia: Don’t go quiet now.

You exhaled through your nose, shaking your head.

You: I’m at training.

You half-expected that to end the conversation. That the moment she was faced with reality, she’d back off.

Instead—

Alexia: Lucky for you, I’m only over the road.

Your breath hitched. She wasn’t backing off. She was doubling down.

And you had two options:

Keep playing the game.

Or let it finally tip over the edge.

So you leaned into it.

You: Good. Hope you play as hard as you talk.

She didn’t leave you on read this time.

Alexia: Guess you’ll find out.

And just like that, the waiting game was over.

228 notes · View notes

woso-scotland · 2 days ago

Note

Can u write a Alex Morgan x reader fic where reader is pregnant

My Girls

Alex Morgan x fem!reader

it’s a little childish universe✨

summary: amidst the chaos of her busy schedule, alex is reminded that home is where her heart truly belongs

“And then you remember that Charlie has a half day of school tomorrow, right? I have no idea who is supposed to pick her up with all the media duties I have, and Servando is out of town—”

“Alex, baby, take a breath for me, okay?” You gently cut off her rambling, worried she might explode if she tries to think one more thought.

Your wife inhales deeply, holding the breath for a few seconds before exhaling shakily. Her eyes remain closed as she gives a small nod, signaling that she’s okay.

“I will pick up our daughter after our morning training session tomorrow while you take care of everything else. No need to worry, my love.” You offer her a reassuring smile, running your hands up and down her arms in comfort.

Alex leans into your touch, her forehead falling against your shoulder as she exhales again, this time more steadily. You feel the tension in her body ease just a little, but her hands are still gripping the sides of your shirt like she’s afraid to let go.

“I just—” Her voice is muffled against your hoodie. “I feel like there’s never enough time. I want to be there for everything, but it’s like the moment I figure one thing out, three more problems pop up.”

“I know, love.” You murmur, gently taking her hand in yours. “But you’ll always have me, Charlie, and, soon, this little one by your side.”

You guide her hand to your growing belly, resting it there. At 23 weeks, your bump is undeniable now, and Alex has developed a habit—no, an addiction of touching it at any given moment. It’s become her grounding force, a way to center herself when the chaos of life threatens to overwhelm her.

As if on instinct, her fingers spread over your stomach, her thumb tracing absentminded circles against the fabric of your hoodie. She lets out a soft sigh, and you feel her fully relax against you.

“See? You’re not alone in this.” You whisper, pressing a kiss to her temple.

Alex swallows, her voice quieter now. “I know.”

—

“There’s my Charlie-girl!”

The little girl runs toward you at full speed, her Little Mermaid backpack bouncing on her shoulders. She barrels ahead, leaving her friend behind as she crashes into your front, making you let out a small groan.

“Honey, remember what I told you? You have to be a bit more careful now.” You warn softly, gesturing toward your growing belly.

“I’m sorry, little one.” Charlie says, quickly pressing a sweet kiss to your clothed stomach.

Since the moment you found out you were pregnant, both Alex and Charlie had started calling the baby little one. Your wife and daughter love talking to your belly, insisting that the baby needs to recognize their voices before they enter the world.

“Hi, Mrs. Morgan!” Emma, Charlie’s friend, greets with a bright smile as she finally catches up.

“Hello, Em. How was school today?”

Charlie crosses her arms with a dramatic pout. “How come I didn’t get asked?”

“Because I get to deal with you all day.” You tease, poking at her side playfully. “But it must’ve been fun since it was a half-day!”

“It was! We got to watch movies and build marshmallow towers with toothpicks in class!” Emma exclaims, throwing her hands up in excitement.

“That sounds like so much fun! Maybe soon, we can have another playdate for you two.”

You barely have time to brace yourself before the girls let out joint screams of excitement. You swear one of your eardrums pop at the loud noises.

“My mom’s here! I’ll see you later!” Emma calls out before hurrying off.

Both you and Charlie wave as she leaves. Tthen Charlie quickly interlocks her fingers with yours as you make your way to the awaiting car. Once she’s all buckled up and you’re in the driver’s seat, you begin heading home.

“Now… how was your day at school?”

“Finally!” Charlie huffs, making you laugh as she launches into a full breakdown of her day.

—

“Since Mama is going to be working later today, how about we go have lunch at the beach?” You suggest, scavenging through the fridge and realizing you have the perfect ingredients for a picnic.

“Really?” Charlie exclaims, her eyes lighting up with excitement.

“Well, of course! We’ll just have to send a picture to mama to make her jealous.” You smirk, wiggling your brows.

“Yay!”

“Should we bring Spots?” You ask, further brightening the smile on Charlie’s face.

Spots is the family’s English Setter. The most lovable, protective, and behaved companion one can ask for. Spots always knows that you’re talking about her, considering the fact that she’s sitting by your feet with her tail wagging side to side along the floor.

“Yes, let’s bring Spots!”

Without hesitation, Charlie hops off the barstool by the counter and scurries off to her room, most likely to grab a sunhat or her favorite stuffed animal to bring along.

Meanwhile, you gather everything you’ll need— food, a picnic blanket, napkins, sunscreen, Spots’ water bowl, and a few of Charlie’s favorite books in case she wants to read while you relax. You pack a container of fresh-cut fruit, sandwiches, crackers, and Charlie’s favorite juice boxes, making sure to grab extra snacks for when she inevitably gets hungry again.

By the time you’re done packing, Charlie comes running back into the kitchen, now in a simple t-shirt and shorts, her sun hat slightly too big for her head. She’s also clutching her favorite stuffed animal, a small elephant she named Ella despite your and Alex’s many objections about making it more original.

“I’m ready!” She announces proudly, adjusting her hat as she grins up at you.

“Perfect. Now let’s head out before the little one gets hangry and kicks again.” You pat your belly for emphasis, making Charlie giggle before placing a small kiss on it.

The drive to the private beach is filled with Charlie’s excited thumping legs against her car seat along with the low hum of Taylor Swift through your speakers. Both you and Charlie are extremely jealous your wife got to meet the woman herself… multiple times.

You smile when you look through the rearview mirror and watch Charlie do her little dance while singing along to the lyrics. Spots sits beside her, looking excitedly out the window and occasionally turning her head to check on Charlie. You simply cannot wait to add another little baby to this amazing family.

Once you arrive, you pick a spot that has some shade along with some sun in case you either get too cold or too hot. The spot overlooks the glistening lake, the waves roll in gently with small white caps along with the cool breeze accompanied with it.

Charlie immediately runs over to your bent form, insisting she’ll set up the blanket so you don’t hurt her baby sibling that is currently doing cartwheels in your stomach. You and Charlie grab opposite ends of the blanket, making it easier to set on the sand with the wind blowing in. Spots remains seated behind you, enjoying the fresh sea breezes.

Charlie plops down immediately while you gently try and sit on the blanket without accidentally falling. The girl across from you again is quick to help, arranging and lining up all the food and drinks in a way that makes perfect sense to her. She places your sandwich right in front of you and hers in front of her.

“Now, we eat!” She declares, handing you a napkin like she’s a butler at a formal event.

“Why thank you, Miss Charlie.” You laugh, tucking the napkin jokingly in your sundress like a bib.

As you both eat, Charlie chatters more about her day at school while occasionally patting the dog. She talks about what movies she watched and how her and Emma stacked as many marshmallows they could before they fell over. You listen, nodding along, occasionally brushing crumbs off her cheek when she gets too excited and forgets to wipe her mouth.

Only a few bites into the second half of her sandwich, Charlie dramatically gasps, causing you to flinch and look around with wide eyes to see if she is ok.

“We gotta send a picture to mama!” Charlie reminds, allowing you to take a breath from the small panic you were in.

“Yes of course.”

Pulling out your phone, Charlie is quick to crawl over to your side and smush her face into yours while Spots’s head rests on your leg. You take a quick selfie of you and Charlie along with the lake in the background and a perfect view of your small picnic.

You send the photo to your wife along with a text saying ‘the beach is nice…but it’s missing one person’.

Alex must have a small break between meetings because your phone almost instantly buzzes with a reply.

My Everything: You guys are evil. I’m stuck here, and you’re having the best food ever with the best view ever. But I love my girls.

You can practically hear the small pout in her voice. You read the message out to Charlie, making her giggle.

“Tell mama we saved her some crackers.”

You quickly type out a message along with a red heart before setting your phone down beside you.

“Do you think little one can hear the waves?” Charlie asks from her spot on the blanket.

“Maybe. I think they can hear a little bit by now.” You glance down at your belly, placing a hand over it thoughtfully.

Charlie scoots closer, resting her head gently against your belly. “Hey, little one. Mommy and I are having a picnic, and I promise we’ll bring you here when you get bigger.”

Your heart melts at the sight, and you almost tear up. You never doubted Charlie’s qualities of being a big sister, but moments like this prove just how much she’s ready.

For a while, the three of you bask in the lake breeze, lying on the blanket and listening to the gentle sound of waves crashing along the shore. Charlie eventually grabs one of the books you brought and begins reading it aloud, her small voice carrying over the wind.

You relax beside her, stretched out on your back, one hand resting protectively over your growing belly while Spots is curled up beside you both.

As the afternoon drifts on, your eyelids grow heavy, signaling that it might be time to head home.

Charlie, usually one to fight against leaving fun places, doesn’t put up much of a fuss. She simply sighs dramatically and begins gathering her things, giving Ella one last squeeze before tucking the stuffed elephant under her arm.

After carefully packing up the picnic supplies and making sure no trash is left behind, you shake out the blanket and fold it up. Spots gives a happy bark as you begin walking back to the car, her tail wagging as she trots alongside Charlie.

Once everything is packed away, you help Charlie into her car seat and settle yourself behind the wheel.

“Can we come back soon?” She asks, her voice hopeful as she yawns, already growing sleepy from the warmth of the sun.

“Of course, sweetheart. Maybe next time mama can come with us.” You smile at her through the rearview mirror.

Charlie grins at that idea, resting her head against the side of her seat. “I think little one liked it, too.”

You chuckle softly, resting a hand on your belly as you glance down for a moment, feeling the slight pressure of the baby’s kicks before starting the car.

—

Alex is trying everything not to panic.

She finally finished all of her conferences and interviews for the day, and the last thing she heard from you was that you were at the beach.

She’s texted you at least five times throughout the day. No response.

Her mind jumps to worst-case scenarios—what if something happened to you? What if you weren’t answering because you couldn’t?

Shaking her head, she grips the steering wheel tighter, pushing those thoughts away.

She just needs to get home.

Alex presses her foot down a little harder on the gas pedal, going a few miles over the speed limit.

She won’t relax until she knows you’re all okay.

Her mind must have completely blacked out because the next thing she knows, she’s pulling into the long driveway of your shared home. She doesn’t bother grabbing anything from the car. Instead, she slams the door shut and sprints toward the front entrance.

She should feel some relief at the sight of your car parked in the driveway and the front door securely locked, but her head is spinning too much to process it.

Her keys slip through her trembling fingers as she fumbles to find the right one. Her breath catches when she finally gets the door open, and she wastes no time rushing inside, calling out both your name and Charlie’s.

Alex’s voice dies in her throat the moment she steps into the living room.

The sight before her makes her heart stop then melt.

There you all lay, curled up on the couch, with you on your back, Charlie and Spots on either side of you. Charlie’s small hand rests protectively over your belly, while Spots’ head is nestled against Charlie’s hand.

The tension in Alex’s body slowly unravels as she takes a minute to breathe, watching her entire world rest peacefully in front of her. With one last deep exhale, she knows she has to wake all three of you—you’ve probably been napping for hours now.

“Baby, Charlie… it’s time to wake up, my loves.” Alex murmurs, brushing your hair to the side and softly rubbing her thumb over your forehead.

“Alex?” Your voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper as your eyes flutter open.

“Yes, it’s me, baby.” Her voice is warm, full of relief. “You gave me a bit of a scare, you know?”

Her fingers never stop their gentle path over your skin, grounding both of you in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

You stretch out as much as you can with the limited space you have before sitting up slightly, forcing Spots’ head to perk up along with Charlie, who sleepily yawns.

“What scared you?” You ask, eyes still closed to keep the bright sunset from scorching your sight.

“You hadn’t answered me for hours, and I started to worry something happened to you both.” Alex mumbles quietly, taking in the relief that you’re okay.

You finally look at her with concerned eyes. “I’m so sorry, baby. After the beach, Charlie and I got so tired and ended up falling asleep after we turned on a movie. I never meant to scare you.”

“All that matters is that you’re okay.”

“Mama? You’re home.” Charlie rubs the sleep from her eyes but remains cuddled into your side.

“I am. I missed you guys.” Alex confesses, planting a kiss on both your heads before giving Spots an affectionate pat.

As you wake up, you start to feel your stomach rumble, realizing you haven’t eaten in hours. You’re positive Charlie must feel the same.

“I’m guessing you didn’t eat either?” You laugh at the look your wife gives you after hearing the noises come from your stomach.

“I did text you asking if you wanted me to pick up dinner, but then I ended up rushing home.” Alex gives you a pointed but playful look.

You flash her a guilty smile. “That would be my fault… but do you think we can get Wendy’s? Little one and this one are hungry.” You tap Charlie’s nose, earning a giggle.

“Mmm, maybe. But you gotta give me something first.”

The tone in Alex’s voice is one you’re all too familiar with. Low and teasing.

You smirk, easily tilting your head and wrapping a hand behind hers, pulling her in for a lingering kiss. Alex would deepen it, but she knows better—especially with your daughter still curled up against you.

“Ew!” Charlie exclaims, sticking out her tongue in exaggerated disgust.

Alex pulls back with a chuckle. “Watch it, missy. I’ll get mommy Wendy’s and make you brussels sprouts instead.”

Charlie gasps dramatically, eyes wide as she whips her head toward you. She gestures towards her mouth, zipping and throwing the lock away.

You just laugh, shaking your head. “Looks like we’re getting Wendy’s.”

“Alright, alright. Wendy’s it is.” Alex sighs, pressing one more kiss to your forehead before standing.

Charlie cheers, jumping off the couch to grab her shoes. You stretch, watching her with an amused smile before looking up at Alex, reaching for her hand.

She takes it without hesitation, her thumb tracing over your skin.

“You really scared yourself, didn’t you?”

Alex exhales, her other hand instinctively resting over your stomach. “Yeah. I did.”

“We’re always okay, baby. I promise.” You squeeze her hand gently.

Alex nods, letting herself believe it because right now, with you here, warm and safe, with Charlie giggling over her shoes and Spots wagging her tail at your feet—

Everything is perfect.

223 notes · View notes

woso-scotland · 2 days ago

Text

SENSE OF FAMILARITY | alessia russo x child!reader

this idea came out of nowhere really, well really sparked from chloe first start back in an arsenal shirt x

grumpy masterlist

the arsenal training ground was quiet in the early morning, the crisp air filled with soft chatter as players arrived one by one. the sky still held a sleep blue hue, the sun barely peeking over the horizon.

among those trudging towards the entrance was alessia with her hand occupied with her bag she took to training and you curled up in her arms against her chest like a koala.

you were not a morning person.

your tiny arms were wrapped around alessia's neck, your head resting against her shoulder, face half buried in the soft fabric of your mummy's hoodie.

you were still deep in your half-asleep state, refusing to acknowledge the fact that you had been cruelly removed from your warm bed and dragged into the real world.

"still out of it, is she?" beth smirked as she walked in beside alessia, throwing a knowing glance at your snuggled up form - it being how you arrived most days to training.

"completely," alessia sighed, adjusting her grip as you were slightly sliding down. "i tried to wake her up at home but she just gave me the dirtiest look and went straight back to sleep. honestly i'm impressed she let me get her dressed."

beth chuckled, "i like her style, i'd love a few more hours in bed too."

as more of the team arrived, the conversation shifted to their upcoming training sessions. leah, katie and kyra joining in, discussing everything from the last match to the quality of arsenals breakfast option.

meanwhile, you remained blissfully unaware of your surroundings, you just remember curling up on the sofa as your mummy made her usual pre-work out smoothie, which for the record didn't taste very nice.

you had since curled further into your mummy's hold, your little hands gripping the hoodie strings like lifelines, your breathing slow and steady.

and then—

"so where am i supposed to be goin'?"

the voice was familiar. too familiar.

your head snapped up so quickly that alessia barely had time to react, catching her coffee just in time before it went everywhere.

one second you were barely conscious — the next, you were fully alert. blinking wildly as you searched for the source of the voice.

"huh?" you mumbled, still groggy but clearly on high alert.

alessia frowned. "you okay, lovie?"

but you weren't listening. you were twisting in your mummy's arms, eyes darting around the training ground searching for the voice you had just heard.

and then you saw her.

she was there, standing a few feet away dressed in full arsenal training gear, was chloe kelly.

you froze. your brain seemingly beginning to short-circuit as you stared at chloe, your mouth slightly open along with your sleepy confusion quickly morphing into absolute bewilderment.

chloe, meanwhile, was chatting casually with one of the coaches. it being her first proper day since signing the loan agreement with the arsenal. completely unaware that she had just rocked your entire worldview.

you turned back to your mummy's arms, eyes wide, "mummy.." you whispered, your voice filled with suspicion. "i think i seeing things.."

alessia not thoroughly entertained by your sleepy little delusions as she bit back a laugh. "what do you mean, lovie?"

you dramatically pointing towards chloe, as she stood clad in full arsenal training gear, "she's here," you stated, as if you were annoying a sight of a ghost.

alessia nodded, not understand quite what you were getting at, "yep?"

"but,, but she a man city player," you said slowly like you were trying to remind your mummy of something incredibly obvious.

"not anymore," alessia smirked, "she's playing for the arsenal now."

you squinted at your mummy, as if trying to detect the lie. then, you decided you needed a confirmation from the source. you wriggling from the warmth and comfort of your mummy's arms until you were placed on the ground.

the second you feet touched the ground, you were stomping your little feet straight towards chloe, hands on your hip in all your four-year old authority.

"what you doing here?" you asked, it coming out more of demand than a question.

chloe hearing your voice and now clearly amused at the sheer confusion on your face as she crouched down to your level. "i'm playing for the arsenal now" she explained with an excited grin.

you blinked, then frowned, then blinked again. confused.

"but, you play for man city... like viv" you insisted as if chloe had simply just forgotten what team she played for.

"not anymore, tiny" chloe chuckled at your stubbornness to accept the truth. "i got loaned out, im back with arsenal until at least the summer."

your little nose scrunched up, still deep in thought. your sleepy mind not helping with all this change so early in the morning. you crossing your arms, well tried to, your tiny brows furrowing. "so.. so you're here now?"

chloe nodded with a warm smile. "that's right." there was a beat of silence as you continued to process this unexpected development. and then - like a switch being flipped your face lit up.

"oh! well, okay then!" you immediately grabbing chloe's hand, nearly knocking the poor girl over as all your previous confusion was long gone. "come on, i gotta show you around!"

nearby, alessia had been watching the whole thing along with some of the girls. they all being very invested in the interaction before bursting into laughter.

"that's one way to wake Lovie up in the morning," steph quipped, chuckling slightly as she nudged alessia.

alessia shook her head fondly, watching you enthusiastically drag chloe toward the training facilities. "honestly, we should have signed chloe weeks ago. would've saved me a lot of grumpy mornings."

chloe shot a grin over her shoulder, "guess i've got a personal tour guide now?"

"oh, you've got no choice, it's lovie's way of saying welcome back!" alessia called back. "you're hers now."

you now fully embracing your role as chloe's personal tour guide - as if she was completely new to the building.. as you tugged her along eagerly. “come on lolo, i gotta show you where we eat lunch! and i'll can show you the best spots for naps — which is very important. oh! and the best part.. the snack cupboard!"

chloe laughed, letting you just lead the way, immersing herself in your well thought out tour. "sounds like you've got your priorities sorted, kid."

you beamed proudly as chloe just smiled, "yep! and now you do too!"

with that, you marched chloe into the training ground, her mission clear: make sure chloe felt right back at home.

347 notes · View notes

woso-scotland · 2 days ago

Text

My girl always gets so cranky - leah williamson

Summary: Y/n’s PMS is ruining her night out with Leah, but when things explode over messy eyeliner, Leah’s love and patience bring her back down.

Word count: 1.6k

Notes: just a little fluff fic because im o period, also, say reservation one more time.

Y/n tried to be a good person, a good friend, a good colleague and a good girlfriend. She always tried her hardest to be kind, patient and overall a nice person, but there was a specific time in the month that, somehow, turned her into a whole other person.

Y/n had begged Leah to take her out on a date a few days ago, saying she missed trying new foods with her. So Leah, as an amazing girlfriend, did just that.

She reserved a table at a new Arab restaurant in North London and was excited to go out with her girl, but Y/n was having a really hard time getting ready.

“Love, c’mon,” Lead said as she leaned in the archway of the door, watching Y/n doing her makeup in front of the mirror. “We need to go like–” she looked at her watch, “–now.”

Y/n sat at her vanity, gripping the eyeliner as if it had personally wronged her. She knew she was being irrational — knew she was too tired, too stressed, too overwhelmed — but that didn’t stop the frustration from simmering beneath her skin. The shaky lines on her eyelids felt like a metaphor for her entire week: messy, uneven, and impossible to fix.

Y/n had been trying to do cat eyes for the last 25 minutes, but none of her attempts were good enough.

Each line was messier than the last, and every time she wiped it away, it seemed to get worse. Her breathing hitched as she tried to steady her hand and try to do the eyeliner again, but the tension building in her body made it another failed attempt.

She was getting frustrated already, and having Leah breathing down her neck didn’t help with the situation.

She inhaled deeply, forcing herself to remain calm. “I’m almost done, Leah,” she called out, trying to keep her voice steady, though it came out more strained than she intended. “Just give me five more minutes.”

But Leah wasn’t having it. She appeared at the door, arms crossed. “You said that ten minutes ago, babe– I just don’t want to lose the reservation.”

“Well, we will lose the reservation if you don’t step away for a minute and actually let me do my makeup,” Y/n grumbled.

Leah crossed her arms. “You do know how a reservation works, right?”

“Oh no! I actually don’t,” Y/n gave Leah the most faux-dumbfounded face. “Can you please explain it to me, Leah?”

After she finished her sentence her face was back into her grumpy expression.

“Don’t give me attitude,” Leah said angrily, but slowly breathed in and out, calming down. “You know what? If you don’t wanna go, just say so.

“I wanna go! I already said I’m almost done, I just need to get this cat eye right–”

“You look great…I promise. It’s just makeup, Y/n.” The reservation is more important, don’t you think?” Leah said, her voice sharper now.

Normally Leah was very unperturbed by Y/n and her not-so-nice attitude. Mainly because generally, Y/n was very kind and loving, but Leah knew the girl had her moments, especially after a long and stressful day.

“I care about how I look, Leah” Y/n bit back, putting her make-up down again. “I just want to look nice for once–but this stupid eyeliner won’t cooperate.

Was Y/n being spoiled and kind of a brat? Yes. Did Y/n care about it right now? No.

She just wanted to look pretty once. Her whole week had been stressful, she felt ugly and bloated and…she just felt like shit, really– and now Y/n couldn't even have a little time for herself without Leah being annoying.

She had an argument with her sister two days ago, it was followed by a disastrous meeting at work where no one seemed to know what they were doing. And then Leah had been in a foul mood since her team’s loss.

Y/n just wanted some time to relax, a night to herself and Leah– a night she’d been looking forward to.

But everything was going wrong.

Leah sighed, stepping into the room and looking at her watch. “Babe, we’re going to lose the reservation if we don’t leave now,” she said, repeating herself once again.

“Bloody hell, Leah” Y/n snapped as she turned to Leah. “You can go alone if you want to.”

Y/n clutched the eyeliner before throwing it at Leah, who dodged it while looking at Y/n as if she was crazy.

Leah stood frozen for a second after dodging the eyeliner, her eyes flickering from Y/n and the spot where the eyeliner landed. For a moment she felt her face hardened–her eyebrows getting drawn tight, her lips parted, ready to snap at Y/n.

For a second, Leah’s anger burned hot. ‘She can’t be serious’, Leah thought. She was just trying to get her out the door so they didn’t lose the reservation, the reservation to the restaurant Y/n wanted to go.

She wanted to scream at Y/n and tell her she was being irrational.

But instead, she sighed and ran her hands down her face in frustration before collecting herself. She breathed one, two, three times. But as she was ready to speak, Y/n’s angry voice filled the room.

“You clearly don’t care about how I feel and how I look,” Y/n stomped her way to their bedroom. “I just wanted to do a fucking cat eyes.”

As Y/n screamed the last quote, she slammed the door to the bedroom shut. She could already feel tear-pickering in her eyes. She cleaned the tears aggressively while going to the bathroom.

Stupid. She was stupid. She couldn’t get ready on time. She couldn't do her make-up properly. She couldn’t even pick an outfit. Y/n was looking at herself in the mirror and realised she looked ugly in it.

She began crying even more, her hand pressed to her face.

Nothing went as planned this week. Nothing went as planned today.

A gentle knock came on the bathroom door, and moments later Leah walked in, crossing the room quietly and wrapping her arms around Y/n.

“Shh, it’s okay, come here.”

Y/n felt warmth and the sweet smell of Leah’s cologne.

Leah held Y/n to her chest as she put her chin on top of Y/n’s head, rocking them silently. Y/n’

It was like the physical comfort was just another trigger for Y/n’s tears. She pressed her body even harder against Leah as she sobbed.

“I’m sorry today’s been so hard,” Leah whispered in her ear. “I also didn’t contribute much to it, huh?”

Leah’s heart clenched, watching Y/n like that, shoulder shaking slightly, feeling the girl sobbing against her body. If Leah was feeling any kind of angriness or frustration, it disappeared the moment she landed her eye on Y/n.

Leah knew the whole situation wasn’t really about the make-up or the reservation. Y/n had been snappier than usual in the last few days, and Leah had a pretty good guess as to why.

“No, it’s not your fault,” Y/n mumbled, Y/n sniffled, lifting her head slightly to meet Leah’s gaze.” I-I’m just pmsing, I think.”

“Oh, so that’s what it is,” Leah said knowingly, her lips quirking into a small smile .“My girl always gets so cranky.” Leah pinched Y/n’s cheek playfully.

Y/n nodded, shyly.

“Come on,” Leah said, helping Y/n sit on the bathroom counter while she took some makeup wipes. “Let me help clean you up.”

Y/n sat quietly as Leah grabbed some makeup wipes, her hands surprisingly gentle as she wiped away the smudged eyeliner. Leah’s fingers lingered on Y/n’s face, her thumb brushing along her jaw as if trying to erase more than just makeup.

“I’m sorry I made us lose the reservation,” Y/n mumbled, her voice small “I was just…frustrated about how I looked and the make-up wasn’t helping.”

Leah leaned in and kissed her softly. “It’s okay,” she said quietly. “I get grumpy when I’m PMSing too. You don’t have to feel bad.”

“But I was a bitch,” Y/n muttered, her voice full of guilt.

“Nah,” Leah grinned, waving it off. “Okay, maybe a bit, but I was bloody annoying, so I don’t blame you.”

“I hope we can get the reservations soon?” Y/na asked, looking to the side as Leah gently turned her chin.

“I’ll try again next week, alright?” Leah promised.

“Okay,” Y/n mumbled, still sounding defeated.

“You know,” Leah murmured softly, placing a kiss on Y/n’s temple, “I don’t care if you show up with the messiest eyeliner in the world. You’re still the prettiest girl ever.”

They were in silence as Leah finished cleaning Y/n’s face, her thumb always so gently tracing the line of her cheeks and nose.

“Well, if this cat-eye thing doesn't work out, we could always just go for the ‘I'm so cute even when I cry’ look, "Leah said teasingly, as she wiped the last bit of makeup away.

“I’ll take the cute look any day,” Y/n said, rolling her eyes playfully.

“It looks great on you, darling,” Leah said, kissing Y/n on the lips. “Anything on you looks great.”

“Did you still think that when I had a raccoon-styled eyeliner just half an hour ago?” Y/smilesle, lifting one eyebrow.

“Yes,” Leah winked at her. “It looked edgy, I liked it.”

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woso-scotland · 2 days ago

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sunflowers & strawberry kisses | buddy & monkey: double the trouble

summary: buddy and monkey spend the day with lia, kim and stina while leah is having a bad day with an endo flare-up. what better to do than distract the kids with sunflowers and strawberry picking? but it's not always as simple when double trouble are involved

word count: 8272

double the trouble masterlist

massive thank you to both @wosov and @lvnleah for the help with this one... it's been in the drafts for a while so it's about time it's out there for you all now!

“Girls, Auntie Kimmy and Auntie Wally are here!” Leah calls aloud, shuffling on her feet as she walks to open the front door, clutching hold of her stomach in pain, “Hiya, Kim. Hiya, Wally. How’re you both doin’?”

“Hiya, Le,” Kim is the first to wrap her free arm around the taller girl, “I’m doin’ alright, how’re you feelin’?” She questions, concerned.

“Bit sore, but the meds are making it more bearable,” Leah explains, trying to mask her pain.

“Hey, Le,” Lia smiles, gently extending both her arms around her best friend, “What’re you doin’ up? You should be lying down and resting. We could have used the spare key…”

“It’s alright, I’m doin’ better than I was earlier,” Leah waves her best friend off, shutting the front door behind the two women, “Do either of you want a cuppa?”

“Yes, please,” Kim agrees with the blonde.

Lia nods in agreement, “I’ll make them if you want, Le? You should be taking it easy today.”

Leah nods, shuffling back into the kitchen as she flicks the kettle on, before settling back on the bar stool and allowing Lia to take over making the hot drinks, “I know the girls wouldn’t be no bother with the way I feel, but thanks for taking them out today. I think they’re both quite excited about it.”

“It’s not a problem, we’ve both been quite looking forward to it,” Kim tells the blonde, “Lia has planned for us to go strawberry picking.”

“Yeah, there’s strawberries and sunflowers as well,” Lia adds, reaching for three mugs out of the kitchen cupboard.

“Oh, that does sound like a lot of fun,” Leah hums in agreement, resting her hand over her stomach as she winces, “I know that Buddy will love that, for sure!”

“Le, do you want me to make you a hot water bottle?” Lia offers, noting Leah's expression, “It might help a bit ease the pain.”

“Please, if you don’t mind,” Leah winces as the pain floods through her, “I think this one’s gonna be bad.” She mumbles in realisation.

“Right,” Kim begins to speak, “Why don’t you go lay back down on the sofa, and tuck yourself up with a blanket, Lia can make you a hot water bottle, and bring it through to you?” She offers.

“What about the girls?” Leah asks, wearily.

“Don’t worry about them. They’ll be fine,” Lia reassures her best friend, finishing off making the hot drinks and stirring the teaspoon in the mug, “Speaking off which, it’s quiet. Should we find that a bit suspicious?” She wonders, placing two of the drinks in front of Kim and Leah.

As if on cue, loud shouting erupts from upstairs.

“Gimme dat back. It mine!” The shrill of Buddy’s tiny voice rings out.

“Nah, it’s not. It’s mine, shrimp!” You retort, your tone fiery.

“Oh for god sake. Just one day,” Leah groans, pinching the bridge of her nose, “Girls, what’s going on up there?”

Kim chuckles knowingly, “Spoke too soon.”

Before Leah can respond, the three-year-old whirlwind barrels into the kitchen, her Lightning McQueen toy car clutched in one hand.

“Auntie Kimmy!” Buddy squeals, launching herself into Kim’s arms and peering up at her with a lopsided grin on her face.

“Hello, troublemaker,” Kim chuckles, settling the three-year-old on her lap, “How’re you doing today?”

“Good!” Buddy beams, “We goin’ out?”

“We are, yeah,” Kim confirms, smoothing a hand over Buddy’s curls, “Are you excited?”

“Uh huh,” The three-year-old nods, resting her head on Kim’s shoulder.

The peace is short-lived as you hobble into the kitchen, your mischievous grin plastered firmly in place, “Tiny! Wallaby! You’re here!”

Leah’s sharp look stops you in your tracks, “One word,” she warns, holding up her tea mug meaningfully.

“Oh, come on…” You groan, already knowing where this is going, “Listen, I know what yer’ gonna say and I would use them but you see, you know I find them well annoying half the time, and I’m only taking the trip to here from upstairs, so it’s fine, innit?”

“Don’t care,” Leah interrupts firmly, “I’ve told you before, you need to use them.”

“Yeah but–” You start to trail off.

“No buts,” Leah cuts you off, her tone final, “If you don’t, your ankle won’t heal. You know this, Monkey. You have to be careful!”

“Oh, spare me the lecture,” You resist the urge to roll your eyes.

Leah continues to fix you with a firm look, “Go get them, now.”

“Fine!” You huff dramatically, turning to stomp upstairs, “Whatever.”

“She’s a handful,” Lia chuckles as your grumbling fades.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Leah exhales a sigh, leaning back against the stool, “You two are saints for offering to take them both today.”

When you return–begrudgingly, crutches in hand–you haven’t lost your attitude, “Happy now?” You grumble, tossing them onto the floor.

Leah raises a brow, her patience thinning, “Don’t leave them on the floor like that. Pick them up before someone trips.”

You sigh, but obey, leaning the crutches against the counter, “So, where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” Kim says, her tone teasing.

“It’s a surprise,” Lia adds, taking a sip of her tea.

You frown, clearly unimpressed, “Ah come on. Where’s the fun in that?”

“Alright, you two,” Lia says, shaking her head, “Go get your shoes, or we’ll not end up getting anywhere at this rate.”

Buddy groans dramatically, sliding off Kim’s lap, “Auntie Kimmy, I don’ know where m’ shoe is!”

Kim crouches down to her level, “Alright, sweetheart. Let’s find it. Where did you last see it?”

“I don’ know!” Buddy flails her arms for added effect, clutching her Lightning McQueen toy in one hand, “I’ take McQueen wif’ us?”

“Of course, you can,” Kim agrees, reaching down to help her, “Now, let’s hunt down that missing shoe, okay?”

You follow, grumbling as you adjust your crutches, “She’s lost her shoes again? I swear she does it on purpose sometimes.”

Lia chuckles, shaking her head, “You’re one to talk, Miss ‘I-Don’t-Need-Crutches.’”

“Me? Nah, you know I’m innocent!” You shot back with a grin, earning laughter from Kim as she ruffled Buddy’s curls, “Good luck trying to find it. She’s probably lobbed it down the back of the sofa.”

“I’m bored,” You huffed, slumping back into your seat, arms crossed dramatically over your chest.

Kim sighed, glancing at you in the rear-view mirror, “Monkey, we’ve been in the car for ten minutes.”

“Exactly! Ten whole minutes!” You exclaimed in a dramatic tone of voice.

Lia turned in her seat to give you a knowing smile, “We’ll be there soon, little one. It’s not going to be that long.”

“To you, maybe,” You groaned, “But I am literally wasting away here,” You let your head loll back against the seat, “I might die of boredom. What a tragedy.”

“It’s not a tragedy. It’s a car ride,” Kim replied dryly, clearly debating whether she regretted bringing you along.

Buddy, however, was having the time of her life, bouncing in her car seat, “We ‘ere? We ‘ere yet?”

“Almost,” Kim said, sparing a quick glance at the satnav.

“Ooooh, ‘ere soon!” Buddy squealed, swinging her legs, “I so ‘cited!”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms with a dramatic huff, “S’just some stupid berries.”

“Pickin’ berries, pickin’ berries!” Buddy sang happily.

Kim smiled, “That’s the spirit, Buddy! We’re going to have so much fun picking them, aren’t we? You need to cheer your big sister up–she’s a bit moody right now.”

“Not my spirit,” You mumbled, slumping further into your seat, “My spirit is tired… and broken.”

Kim threw you a look in the mirror, “Your spirit is dramatic, is what it is.”

Buddy, on the other hand, was delighted, “We ‘ere yet? We ‘ere yet?” She chirped, kicking her feet against the seat.

“Almost,” Kim answered with forced patience.

“Pick strawbies?” Buddy beamed up at her.

“Yes, Buddy, we’re going to pick strawberries,” Lia said kindly, watching your little sister bounce excitedly in her car seat, “Doesn’t that sound like fun, right, Monkey?”

“Oh yeah, I can’t wait for the plants and bugs and… work,” You retorted sarcastically with mock enthusiasm, “That sounds like a whole bunch of fun.”

“You didn’t have to come if you didn’t want to,” Kim pointed out.

“Don’t you have a phone to distract yourself with?” Lia turned to face you with a knowing look, “Why don’t you text Kyra?”

You slumped even further, dramatically pressing a hand to your forehead, “Kyra’s in Paris at the Olympics, remember? I’m lost without my sidekick!”

“Kyra will be back soon,” Lia reassured you, “You’re not lost, little one.”

Kim glanced at you in the rear-view mirror, exhaling a sigh, “I feel like I’m having déjà vu here.”

You stared out the window, counting the trees as they blurred past. Then, inspiration stuck, “Did you know that penguins can swim up to 7 miles per hour?”

The shift was so sudden that Lia blinked in confusion, “Oh? That’s fascinating.”

“Yeah and did you know they don’t have teeth?” You leaned forward, animated now, “But they do have spines inside their beaks and on their tongues to help them hold onto prey and swallow.”

Lia hummed, “That’s interesting, little one.”

Kim shook her head, “Where do you even find this stuff?”

“Oh, I was bored so I Googled random facts about penguins when I was meant to be doing something else,” You retorted, shrugging your shoulders carelessly, “It was more interesting!”

“That makes so much sense,” Lia murmured, amused.

You grinned, leaning forward in your seat again, “Do you want to hear some more? Apparently–”

“I think that’s enough penguin facts for now,” Kim cut in, “How’s the rehab on your ankle coming along?”

You let out an exaggerated sigh, “Oh, it’s so borin,’ Kimmy! It’s so repetitive, just the same thing every day–how did Le cope with this? It’s horrible! I just want to be back on the pitch already! It’s so stupidly long and gruelling!”

“I regret asking the question now,” Kim mumbled.

“I know it’s hard,” Lia said gently, “But you’ll be back before you know it. You just have to think positively about this.”

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest, “Yeah, sure, that’s easier said than done.”

“You just have to keep your chin up, Monkey,” Kim added, slowing down as she approached a set of traffic lights, “And if anything, this will teach you to not mess about on skateboards, eh?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” You mumbled, rolling your eyes.

Buddy kicked her legs against the seat, her whole body practically vibrating, “We ‘ere?”

“Almost there, little miss,” Kim chuckled.

“I so ‘cited!” Buddy beamed, wriggling like she couldn’t contain it.

“Oh!” Your eyes widened in realisation, “I got another penguin fact–”

“Monkey,” Kim warned.

“Just one more! They’re great divers and can swim up to 1,740 feet deep. That's like, so cool, ain’t it?”

“I think you need to find a new hobby,” Lia teased, “Weren’t you learning the guitar?”

“I tried and failed,” You admitted, slumping your shoulders, “It’s harder than it looks, you know?”

“Oh I bet that Leah was thrilled to have wasted her money on that guitar then,” Kim joked, knowing full well how happy the blonde was about you giving up so quickly.

“Well, let’s just say she’s not very happy about it,” You mumbled, scratching the back of your neck awkwardly.

Kim pulled into the car park, “Alright, we’re here!”

Buddy squealed, clapping her hands, “We ‘ere!”

“Finally,” You let out a dramatic sigh, but when you went to open the car door and swing your legs out, Kim’s voice stopped you.

“Where do you think you’re going?” The Scottish woman asked with a pointed look.

You blinked, “Um. Out of the car?”

“Not without your crutches,” Kim reminded you.

You groaned, “Kimmy, it’s grass. Nice, soft, cushiony grass. Why do I need ‘em? I’ll be fine!”

“Crutches,” Kim repeated, crossing her arms.

You huffed, crossing your arms stubbornly, “But I don’t wanna use ‘em!”

Kim simply raised an eyebrow, “One…”

You scowled, but she didn’t falter.

“Two… If I get to three, I’m phoning Leah.”

Your eyes widened slightly as she reached for her phone, “Ugh, fine, fine!” You muttered, throwing your head back in frustration but begrudgingly grabbed them, “No fair at all. I don’t need the stupid things!”

“Yes you do, little one,” Lia told you, patting you on your shoulder as she helped unbuckle Buddy out of her car seat, “Out you get then, little miss. Let’s go pick some strawberries!”

Buddy took the help out of the car and hopped down, her eyes suddenly going wide in amazement as she caught sight of the sandpit, “Auntie Wally! Ook! Der sand!”

“Oh yeah, I do see,” Lia said, following her gaze.

“I play in it,” Buddy said determinedly.

Lia furrowed her brow, looking ahead to the fields of strawberries, “Do you not want to pick strawberries first?”

Buddy scrunched her nose, “No berry! Sand bettah!”

“How about you play in the sandpit after you’ve picked some strawberries?” Lia tried to bargain, “There’s sunflowers to see as well.”

“Sand, Auntie Wally!” Buddy insisted, not budging one bit as she tried to tug impatiently at Lia’s hand, “I wan’ play in sand!”

Lia sighed, running her hand through her hair, “After we pick some yummy strawberries, you can play, okay?”

“No! Now!” Buddy whined, not understanding why she couldn’t play in the sand first.

“Buddy…” Kim began to speak.

The toddler stomped her foot and dramatically threw herself onto the grass in front of her, kicking her feet, “NOW!”

You let out a low whistle as you leaned on one crutch, “Bet you guys didn’t think you’d have to deal with a Buddy meltdown today, huh?”

“Not now, Monkey,” Kim muttered, already pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Buddy–”

“Come on, little miss,” Lia crouched to Buddy’s height to try and reason with her, “I know you want to play in the sand, but won’t it be fun to do that afterwards, yeah?”

Buddy, however, was having none of it as she wailed louder and flailed her arms on the grass, “No! I wan’ play in the sand now!”

“Buddy, listen…” Kim began to speak.

“No! Ou’ don’ understand! I hafta play now!” Buddy declared, crossing her arms over her chest and stomping her foot for emphasis.

“Oh look, there’s Stina!” You turned your attention away from your little sisters’ meltdown to notice the tall blonde heading over your way, “Stina Stina Ballerina!” You spotted the woman.

Stina turned at the call, smiling as she approached with a smile, “Hello, Monkey.”

“What’s happenin’ Stina Ballerina?” You grinned at the tall blonde.

“Are you going to keep calling me that all day?” Stina questioned, curiously.

“Eh, probably. I mean if you don’t like that, I could try Stina Ribena, maybe?” You offered with a cheeky grin.

Stina huffed, shaking her head, “No, no–Stina Ballerina is fine.”

“Good choice!” You beamed a wide smile.

Meanwhile, the three-year-old had sprinted to the sandpit–where her tantrum escalated. She stomped, screamed, grabbed a clump of sand and threw it.

“Buddy, stop throwing sand,” Lia warned.

Kim rubbed her temples to keep her calm, “Buddy, listen–”

A handful of sand sailed through the air–right into Stina’s eye.

You snorted in amusement, “Well, this just got a whole lot more interesting.”

Kim exhaled sharply, “I need a drink.”

“Buddy, we do not throw sand at people!” Lia told your favourite little buddy off.

Buddy, wasn’t even phased by that and scooped up another handful.

“This is why I don’t babysit,” Stina, still blinking sand out of her eye, muttered.

Kim took deep breaths, trying to keep her cool. Stina unfortunately, had become collateral damage, frozen in place as she blinked back tears, sand still in her eyes.

And you? You were filming the whole thing, barely holding in your laughter.

“Lia, do something,” Kim said through gritted teeth.

Lia, ever the sensible one, sighed and pulled out her phone. “I’ll handle it,” she muttered, dialling Leah’s number. “Hiya, Le. Sorry to ruin your peaceful day without the girls, but uh, we have a bit of a situation here…”

“It’s totally Buddy-coded,” You chimed in with a wicked grin, holding your phone out in your hand like you were about to watch the world burn.

Kim shot you a glare as she rubbed her temples. Stina sniffled, still blinking out sand. Buddy was now flat on the ground, wailing at the top of her lungs. And you? You were having the time of your life.

“What’s going on?” Leah’s tired voice crackled through the phone, her tone calm and sounding like she’d just woken up from being asleep.

“Well, we’ve arrived at the place and we were about to pick strawberries until Buddy found out there was a sandpit,” Lia started, clearly trying to keep things together.

“Oh boy, I know where this is going…” Leah’s voice was laced with sympathy for Lia, but also a touch of understanding.

“And well, she’s decided that she wants to play in the sandpit instead… and threw a tantrum,” Lia continued, her voice tinged with a little more exasperation, “Now poor Stina has sand in her eyes, and Kim looks ready to quit for the day.”

Leah exhaled a sigh, “Let me speak to her,” She said, the firmness in her voice making it clear she was ready to take charge.

“Sure,” Lia agreed, pausing to look at Buddy, who is in the middle of throwing another clump of sand in Kim’s direction this time, “Buddy, Mummy’s on the phone and she would like to speak to you.”

“Ooooo, you’re in trouble now, Buddy!” You teased, making sure she heard every word of it.

Buddy froze mid-wail at the mention of Leah’s name. Wide-eyed, she sat up instantly, brushing sand off her shorts with a dramatic flair only a three-year-old could manage.

“Mummy!” Buddy gasped, toddling towards the phone with grabby hands, “I speak to her!”

Lia smiled faintly as she held the phone closer to Buddy, “She’s right here. Want to talk to her?”

“I speak to her, Auntie Wally!” Buddy demanded, eager to grab the phone, “Mummy! I in da sandpit!”

“I know,” Leah stifled a laugh, “But what’s this about you throwing sand at Stina? That’s not a very kind thing to do now, is it?”

“I no mean to do it,” Buddy lied, attempting her best innocent face.

“Yeah you did, Buddy, don’t fib,” You continued to wind your little sister up, oblivious that Leah could hear you crystal clear on the other end of the phone, “You so did it on purpose!”

“Oi,” Kim swatted you round the back of the head.

“Ow,” You yelped, rubbing the back of your head where you’d just been hit, “What’d you do that for?”

Kim gave you a firm look, “Quit antagonising her, will you?”

“Fine,” You muttered, sulking as you continued to rub the sore spot.

“It’s not nice to do things like that, Bubba,” Leah continued in a gentle tone of voice that still came across as firm to the three-year-old, “And when you do those things, you’re being very naughty, aren’t you?”

“I be an angel though, Mummy!” Buddy declared with unwavering confidence.

You couldn’t help but snort in amusement, “More like the devil.”

“Monkey,” Kim warned, shooting you a glare.

“What? I thought it was funny!” You insisted, holding your hands up in mock surrender.

“Stop it,” Kim stated, firmly.

“You’re no fun,” You mumbled, slumping your shoulders.

Back on the phone call, Leah tried to speak to Buddy as she could hear you winding her up, “I thought you wanted to have a nice time with Auntie Wally, Auntie Kim and Stina. If you continue to throw sand, then you won’t be able to, and you’ll have to come home. You don’t want that now, do you?”

“No, Mummy,” Buddy pouted, “I gon’ pick all da berries for ou’!”

Leah fauxed a playful gasp, “You are? Wow, I can’t wait to see how many you pick. But remember, only good girls get to pick berries.”

“I be good!” Buddy exclaimed, puffing out her chest.

“I know you can, Bubba,” Leah smiled on the other end of the phone, “Now, can you give the phone to your big sister? I need to have a word with her too.”

“Monks’ in trouble?” Buddy asked, curiously.

Leah exhaled a sigh, “A little bit.”

“Uh oh!” Buddy gasped in a dramatic sense, “Monks’ ou’ in big trouble wif Mummy! Ou’ need a timeout!” She announced smugly, handing over the phone to you.

You frowned, “What? I haven’t even done anything!”

“Oh, so that wasn’t you in the background winding her up?” Leah’s tone was unimpressed.

You shrank a little, suddenly regretting your choices. “Uhhh… Well, when you put it like that…”

“Uh-uh, don’t even try it,” Leah cut you off, her tone remaining not in the mood for your antics, “I’m fed up of having this same conversation with you, over and over again, Monkey. I’m this close to taking your iPad away. Or do I need to remind you that you’re already on thin ice after last week, eh?”

You tilted your head back and resisted the urge to groan, “Ah, come on, Le. It’s just some harmless fun… And it’ll make a great TikTok video–”

“You had better be joking there, Monkey!” Leah exclaimed, not happy at all.

You winced, “Chill, It’s fine. I was just kidding, Le!”

“Yeah? Well, I’m not,” Leah replied firmly, “We’ll talk when you get home.”

You swallowed hard, trying to lighten the mood, “Aw, come on, Le, don’t be like that. You love me too much for that, right?” You attempted with a sheepish grin, even though she couldn’t see you.

Leah wasn’t having it, “You think I don’t know what you’re like, Monkey? I’m hardly in a position to even drive to come and get you right now, am I? You had better not be up to no good for the rest of the time that you’re out–You know this is the last thing I wanted to be dealing with you being a pain in the arse today!”

“Geesh, I really feel the love right now,” You muttered, rolling your eyes.

“Monkey!” Leah shouted.

“Alright, alright, I’ll stop,” You told her, holding your hands up in mock surrender even though she wouldn’t be able to see it.

“You’ll stop now because I’m telling you. Not when it suits you,” Leah continued to scold, “So unless you really do want me to come down there and drag you back home so you can sit in your bedroom the rest of the day, I suggest you stop while you’re ahead, sunshine–I don’t care if you’re 19 or not, I won’t have you winding your little sister up and being a menace for Kim and Wally. Do you understand?”

You groaned but didn’t argue, “Yes, Mum.”

“Good,” Leah said, her voice softening just slightly, “I need you to set an example for your little sister, yeah? I don’t need you acting like your usual menace self!”

You grumbled something under your breath, and Leah didn’t miss it, “What was that?”

“... Nothing,” You mumbled.

“That’s what I thought,” Leah retorted in a firm voice, “Now go be helpful. And if I hear one more complaint, your iPad is mine.”

You clutched the phone tighter as you frowned, but you knew better than to argue, “Okay, Mum.”

“Right, now put Lia back on the phone,” Leah instructed, making sure that you understood not to cause any more trouble.

“Here,” You mumbled, passing the phone back to Lia so she could talk to Leah.

Lia took the phone, “Hi, Le.”

“Right, I’ve had a word with both of the girls–Buddy knows not to throw sand, and Monkey shouldn’t be too much of a problem now either,” Leah explained to her best friend.

“Thank you, sorry for disturbing you… This is probably the last thing you wanted to be dealing with today,” Lia apologised, running her hand through her hair.

Leah chuckled on the other end of the phone, “Unfortunately, there’s no such thing as a break from motherhood.”

“I guess you’re right there,” Lia chuckled in agreement, “Try and take it easy. We’ll be back later.”

We’ll see,” Leah hummed, clearly unconvinced.

“Right, I’ll let you go–Monkey, use your crutches!” Lia exclaimed, catching you attempting to walk away without them.

You froze mid-step, a few paces ahead of her, and quickly looked down at your feet, guilt flashing through you, “I wasn’t gonna… Never mind, I know, I know,” You mumbled, slumping your shoulders.

“Oh please don’t tell me she’s not using them,” Leah said, gritting her teeth as she felt a wave of pain flood through her, the image of you overexerting yourself, “She needs to use them or she’s not going to get better.”

“Pick them up,” Lia gestured to the abandoned crutches on the floor, not giving in until you grabbed them with a dramatic sigh and eye roll, “There’s been a bit of resistance when we got here, and well, now. But Kim started counting, and she caved.”

Leah let out a laugh, “Ah yes, the magical counting to three.”

“And the threat of calling you,” Lia added.

Leah laughed harder before a second wave went straight through her that left her clutching the phone in her hand, “I’m gonna go. I’ll… I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Okay. Get some rest and we’ll see you in a bit,” Lia said goodbye, ending the phone call before turning back to you and your favourite little buddy, “Right then, who’s ready to go and pick some yummy strawberries?”

“I wan’ pick berries!” Buddy shouted aloud at the top of her voice, “I pick all da good ones for Mummy!” She squealed, excitement fully restored.

You snickered turning to look towards Stina, “Five quid she eats more than she picks.”

Stina groaned, “I’m guaranteed to lose.”

You were definitely still posting that TikTok. There was no way you could leave something that good in your drafts. It was too perfect, too hilarious, way too you to just let it sit there.

“Mmm, der yummy berries!” While everyone else was busy picking strawberries, Buddy seemed much more interested in stuffing them into her mouth.

You rolled your eyes but smiled at her, watching her make a mess with her sticky hands. The sight was amusing, but you were also struggling. You weren’t in the best mood, having to rely on crutches, “You’re meant to put them in the basket, Buddy, not eat all of ‘em.”

“I just testin’ them so der nice for Mummy! I hafta make sure I pick all da nice ones!” Buddy insisted, her cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk.

“You’ll have none left by the time we get back to the car,” Kim told her, amusedly, “And then what will you give to Mummy?”

“It okay! Der will be more!” Buddy declared with determination, though her hands were mostly busy shovelling the fruit into her mouth.

Lia chuckled, shaking her head before glancing over at you, “Are you not going to pick any, little one?” She asked, noticing the emptiness of your own bucket.

“Yeah, yeah, I am,” You mumbled, shifting awkwardly on your crutches. Truthfully, your mind wasn’t on the strawberries–you just hated to rely on the dumb crutches, and the idea of walking around with them was just… annoying.

Lia gave you a knowing look but didn’t push, “Make sure you pick some good ones, eh? At the rate Buddy is going, she won’t have any to take home with us.”

“She’s gonna make herself sick,” You muttered, watching as Buddy crammed another strawberry into her already full mouth.

Kim grimaced at the thought of it, “Buddy, sweetheart. I think you’ve eaten enough. How about we just focus on putting them in the basket now, hm? We don’t want you to get a poorly tummy.”

“I be fine! I no get a tummy ache!” Buddy protested through a mouthful of berries, “I pickin’ all da bestest berries for Mummy!”

You scoffed, “Yeah but if you eat them all then there’ll be none to give her, Shrimp,”

“Dat no true. Der be loads!” Buddy declared with sheer determination.

“Pft, yeah, sure whatever you say,” You mutter under your breath, shaking your head.

“Monks’ ou’ don’ understand dat I can eat dem all!” Buddy exclaimed, puffing out her chest.

“Sure, eat them all and then you’ll end up sick,” You grimaced at the mention of it, “I’m not being the one to clear up when you do!”

“Ou’ don’ know dat!” Buddy whined.

You rolled your eyes in disagreement, “I do! You did the same thing with Mum’s birthday cake,”

“Nuh-uh!” Buddy argued.

“Uh-huh!” You fought back.

Buddy furrowed her eyebrows in determination, “Nuh-uh!”

“Uh-huh,” You teased, grinning.

“Girls, come on, that’s enough,” Lia stepped in before the bickering could spiral any further, “Come on, let’s just finish picking the strawberries before we end up being here all day.”

“Keep it up and neither of you are getting any strawberries,” Kim warned.

Buddy gasped dramatically, clutching her basket to her chest, “Nooo! M’ berries! Ou’ can’ take ‘em away!”

Lia failed to hide her amusement, “Then let’s stop the arguing and start filling those baskets properly, yeah?”

Buddy pouted but finally relented, reaching for another strawberry–though, judging by the look in her eye, she was still debating whether to put it in the basket or her mouth.

“Buddy,” Kim warned, crossing her arms.

Buddy huffed, exaggeratedly placing it in the basket instead, “Happy now?”

Kim smirked, “Very.”

You shook your head, shifting slightly on your crutches as you tried to focus on picking some strawberries of your own. It was still annoying, but at least the ridiculousness of Buddy was distracting enough to keep your mind off it.

At least until she toddled over to you with something in her hand.

“Ook, Monks’! Ook I found a c’eepy c’awly!!” Buddy, oblivious to the problem, had found a tiny caterpillar and was admiring it with wide eyes, “Ook! Ook!”

You were already regretting her wander off ahead.

“Hell nah–get that thing away from me!” You freaked out, seeing the small caterpillar enclosed in her hands, “Don’t come any near! Nuh-uh!”

“It cute doh, Monks’!” Buddy giggled, clearly mischievous and before you could stop her, she had placed the caterpillar on the handle of your crutches.

“Buddy! No! Get it away!” You shrieked in fear, jerking your crutch out of your grip, “Get it away! Get it away!” You flung both of your crutches in sheer panic–it went flying, landing with a soft splash in a nearby pond.

You turned to watch your crutches sink slowly, bubbles rising to the surface as they disappeared beneath the water.

“Oh shit,” You mumbled, eyes wide at the realisation of you what you had done, and what was too late.

The field went eerily silent.

“Well…” Kim broke the silence, her tone almost deadpan, “Who’s gonna tell Leah that she needs to buy another pair of crutches then?”

Everyone stood still, staring at the water where your crutches had sunk, leaving nothing but ripples.

The first problem? Your crutches were now submerged in a body of water.

The second problem? Your little sister was absolutely distraught over the sudden loss of her new best friend.

You watched as the tears welled in Buddy’s eyes as she stomped her foot, bottom lip wobbling dangerously, “Ou’ meanie!” She screeched, pointing an accusing sticky-red finger at you, “Ou’ throwed my fwiend ‘way! Dat not nice! Dat so not nice, Monks’!”

“Buddy, mate, listen… It was a bug–” You tried, but she gasped like you’d committed an actual crime.

“NO! Him was not just a bug! Him was my fwiend! An’ ou’ was a big meanie an’ ou’ throwed him in da water an’ now he gonna get lost an’ he gonna be so sad!” Buddy wailed, her little fists clenching at her sides as she stomped her foot again.

“Monks’ ou’ threw my new friend away!” Buddy wailed, in a state of overwhelming sadness, “Dat is not nice! Ou’ a meanie!”

You groaned, pressing a hand to your forehead, “Buddy–”

“NUH-UH!” Your little sister cut you off dramatically, her sobs turning into full-on ugly crying, “Ou’ don’ even cawe! Him was my bes’ fwiend! I loved him! Now he aww gone foweva! Foweva!”

“OU’ A MURDERER!” Buddy suddenly screamed at the top of her lungs, dropping her basket of forgotten strawberries as she passed an accusing finger right at you, “Ou’ murdered my bestest friend!”

You rolled your eyes dramatically, “Oh, come on, you’re overreacting–you can’t even consider a caterpillar a friend, Shrimp.”

“OU STILL A MURDERER!” Buddy continued to scream aloud, attracting nearby attention from people walking past and giving her a concerned look.

“This isn’t what I was expecting today,” Stina mumbled, scratching the back of her neck awkwardly.

Lia cleared her throat, clearly trying not to laugh at the absolute meltdown unfolding in front of her, “It’s okay, Buddy. I’m sure… uh… I’m sure your friend is swimming happily somewhere now.”

But Buddy? Well, she was having absolutely none of it.

“HIM CAN’ SWIM!” Your little sister shrieked, completely horrified, “HIM GONNA DROWN! HIM GONNA BE SO SO SAD!”

“Oh for god’s sake,” Kim groaned, rubbing her temples, “Buddy, sweetheart, that bug was not your lifelong best friend.”

“YES HIM WAS!” Buddy argued, hands resting on her hips with a scowl that even made Leah’s took tame.

“Okay, fine, he was. But you cannot stand here in the middle of this field screaming about it,” Kim told her.

Buddy ignored her completely, now throwing herself onto the grass in a full-body tantrum, fists pounding in the ground, “I wan’ him baaaaaaack!” She sobbed, “I wan’ my fwiennnnnnnnd!”

You huffed, throwing your head back in exasperation, “Yo, Buddy this hissy fit is causing a scene. How about… If you stop cryin’ then I’ll go and buy you that new Buzz Lightyear that you really want, yeah?”

Buddy stopped mid-wail, picking herself up off the floor and a big smile appeared on her face, “I wan’ buzz!”

Kim let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose, “You cannot just bribe her out of tantrums, Monkey.”

“Well, it worked, didn’t it?” You pointed out, motioning to Buddy, who was now wiping her tears away like they never existed, already bouncing at the thought of her new toy, “Unless you have a better idea!”

Kim exchanged a look with Lia, who was barely holding in her laughter, “That’s not the point,” She muttered.

“Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!” Buddy started chanting, dancing around you in excitement, completely forgetting about the “friend” she had been mourning just moments ago.

Lia finally let out a chuckle, shaking her head, “I think we should probably call it a day before she finds another “best friend” to grieve over,” She suggested.

Kim let out a long frustrated sigh, but after a brief pause, she nodded, “Never again. Never. Again.” She spun on her heel and started walking back to the car, clearly over it.

“Wait for me! I got little legs!” Buddy called out, her tiny feet trying to catch up with Stina’s long strides. She clung to Stina’s hand as she toddled along, her eyes wide with excitement.

Lia, ever the softy, took pity on you and your lack of crutches. Without a word, she bent down, easily lifting you onto her back for a piggyback ride, her strong arms making it look effortless.

You let out a dramatic sigh as you settled into the ride, “Can we get McDonald’s on the way back?” You asked, hopeful.

“No,” Kim shot the request down instantly, her voice flat and final.

“Awh, shucks,” You grumbled, “But I’m hungry!”

“Tough,” Kim replied, giving you a side-eye, “You can eat when you get home. We’re heading back now.”

You rolled your eyes, but Kim’s will was as strong as ever. Still, in a rare moment of weakness, she relented, “Fine,” She muttered, “But we’re going through the drive-thru.”

In the end, you scored a Quater Pounder meal with a strawberry milkshake, while Buddy gleefully clutched her Happy Meal with chicken nuggets and a fruit shoot.

“If you make a mess in the back of my car then you’ll be clearing it up,” Kim warned, glancing at you through the rear-view mirror as you happily munched on your burger.

You grinned, stuffing a bite of burger into your mouth, “This is why you’re my favourite Auntie!”

As the car hummed along the road, Buddy’s face twisted, her hand pressed to her stomach, “Auntie Kimmy,” She whined softly, her voice barely audible, “I don’ feel so good…”

Kim’s eyes darted to the rear-view mirror, panic rising in her chest as she saw Buddy’s pale face and the faint green hue creeping up her cheeks, “It’s alright, sweetheart, we’re almost–” Her warning was cut off as Buddy’s small body lurched, and a sickening sound filled the back of the car, “Home…”

“Oh my God,” Your eyes widened in horror, most definitely put off the rest of your McDonald’s–that was until the familiar, queasy feeling hit you too. Your stomach churned in sympathy, “Kimmy! Pull over… Pull over, quick. I’m going… I’m going to be sick!”

Lia froze, her face drained of all colour, “Oh no,” She murmured, her voice high in panic.

Kim, who usually kept her cool in any situation, was no different. She slammed on the brakes, pulling the car over to the side of the road in one swift motion, the tyres screeching against the asphalt.

You didn’t waste the time, rushing out of the car, hunching over and throwing up your recently eaten McDonald’s into the nearest bush.

“Oh my God, this is… this is not happening. I can’t believe this is happening!” Kim stood outside of the car, her hands gripping the edge of the door, trying to collect herself, “Why does this always happen to me? I try to live a good life, I’m kind to others, I’m helpful, so why does this happen to me?” She muttered to herself, glancing up at the sky like it was going to give her an answer.

Inside the car, Lia had unbuckled herself, quickly getting to Buddy’s side, “Hey, it’s alright, little miss,” She soothed, opening the back car door, “It’s alright, we’re going to get you cleaned up, and you’ll feel better soon.”

Buddy’s tiny face was contorted in distress, tears running down her cheeks, “I… I sorry, Auntie Wally,” She whimpered, her little body trembling, “I… I didn’ mean it,” She sniffled between hiccuping sobs, still clutching her stomach, “I don’ wanna feel sick…”

“I know,” Lia cooed, her heart breaking as she dug around in Buddy’s bag of spare clothes and everything else, relieved to find the baby wipes she was looking for. Pulling one out, she gently started wiping the three-year-old’s face with it, “It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s not your fault. I guess you ate too many strawberries, huh?”

“I didn’t mean to. I sorry. I didn’t mean to be sick!” Buddy cried, distraught with herself.

“It’s okay,” Lia reassured her, still dapping at the corner of her mouth with a wipe, “Do you feel better now you’ve thrown up, hm?”

“I feel bit better!” Buddy mumbled, nodding her head.

“I feel… horrible,” You couldn’t help but continue to gag at the smell of the car as your stomach churned again, “I’m not getting back in that car with it smelling like this! It’s awful!”

Kim gagged, taking an exaggerated step away from the car like it might lunge at her, “Oh my God, oh my God, the smell! It’s in the air! It’s in my lungs! I can’t–” She bent over, hands on her knees, dry-heaving at just the thought of it.

Kim was still bent over, hands on her knees, still dry-heaving like her life depended on it. Lia was busy cleaning up Buddy, and you–well, you had mostly recovered from your own episode, but the menace in you? That part was thriving.

Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you straightened up just enough to glance toward the car, then dramatically clutched your stomach again, “Oh no…” You murmured, voice laced with faux dread, “Kimmy… I think I see it…”

Kim let out a panicked wheeze, “See what?”

“The chips,” You whispered ominously, “They’re looking back at me…”

Kim slapped a hand over her mouth so fast it was almost impressive, “SHUT UP. STOP TALKING, MONKEY.”

Which, of course, only made it funnier.

“Oooooh,” You groaned dramatically, clutching your stomach, “And the ketchup too… all mixed up with–”

“MONKEY! STOP!” Kim all but screeched, whirling around to face you, eyes wide with sheer terror, “DON’T SAY IT! DON’T YOU DARE!”

You staggered back, clutching your stomach dramatically, like you were having some sort of sick-induced vision, “The McFlurry… it’s melting…”

Kim gagged so hard she nearly collapsed.

Lia sighed from inside the car, “Do you have to be such a menace?”

Buddy, now freshly cleaned up but still sniffling, peeked out at you with wide eyes, “I don’ wanna see my strawberries again,” She whimpered.

You softened for a moment seeing your little sister looking so vulnerable, “Aww, it’s okay, Buddy. No more strawberries for you today,” Then with zero hesitation, you spun back to Kim, “But, Kimmy, what if you do see them again?”

Kim shot you a look, “I swear to God–”

You wiggled your eyebrows, “Big. Red. Chunky.”

That was enough to send Kim over the edge as she let out a full-bodied scream, fanning herself like she was about to faint, “I CAN’T. I CAN’T DO THIS. I AM DONE WITH THIS.”

At that, you continued to have a wide shit-eating grin plastered on your face as you stood opposite her, arms crossed over your chest, “Don’t ya just love me, Auntie Kimmy?”

Kim glared, pointing a trembling finger at you, “I hate you.”

You gasped in mock betrayal, “What? But I’m your favourite niece!”

Kim scoffed, “Not when you’re being a pain in the arse. Obviously, it’s Buddy.”

Your jaw dropped, “This is outrageous! And here I thought you loved me, Auntie Kimmy!” You huffed before tossing out, “Well, you’re not my favourite auntie either. It’s Wally.”

Lia, unbothered, simply shrugged, “Naturally.”

Lia strode through the front door, you draped over her shoulder like a misbehaving toddler. The moment Leah saw, her face dropped.

“Oh, I’m having flashbacks,” Leah muttered, her tone half-exasperated, half-amused, “Dare I ask what happened?”

Lia didn’t dignify that with an answer. She just marched straight over to the corner where you’re old timeout spot was and plopped you down without another word.

Meanwhile, Kim followed behind, Buddy on her hip as she gleefully shouted, “To infinity and beyond!” As if nothing had happened, still not fully aware of the chaos she’d caused, “Mummy!” She chirped, leaning out towards Leah.

“Hi Bubba,” Leah’s expression softened as she scooped Buddy out of Kim’s arms, “Have you had a good day with your aunties and big sister?”

Buddy nodded enthusiastically, “Uh-huh! Monks’ is gonna buy me Buzz Lightyear!”

“Oh?” Leah raised an eyebrow turning to face you, “Are you now?”

“Well…” You shifted in your spot, “I kinda promised that I would, and I can’t break a promise now, can I?”

Buddy beamed, “Monks’ pwomised to buy me it cos’ she throwed my bes’ fwiend in da water!”

“Only cos’ you put that little creepy crawly on my crutches!” You exclaimed, shuddering at the memory of what happened in the last few hours.

Leah blinked, “And where exactly are your crutches?”

A beat of silence.

“Oh… Well, they’re in the water too,” You admitted with a simple shrug of your shoulders.

“What?” Leah exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of her nose, “Do you want to explain yourself, or should I just go ahead and take your iPad now?” Her voice was low. Dangerous.

You scuffed your foot against the floor, refusing to meet Leah’s gaze, “... I was just–”

Leah crossed her arms, levelling you with the kind of look that had you sinking lower into the corner.

“Just not listening and being a complete menace, right?” Her tone sharpened, “I should ground you for a week, but we both know that won’t do anything because I will still have to deal with your whining. So guess what?” She leaned down, voice dripping into something final, something heavy, “Your iPad’s mine.”

Your head snapped up, eyes wide in horror, “WHAT? NO!”

Kim raised an eyebrow at that, shaking her head as she chuckled, “Oof. That is rough, ain’t it?”

Buddy, completely oblivious to your suffering, was too busy singing the Toy Story theme song to care, “You got a fwiend in me–”

Leah simply held out her hand, palm up, expectant, “Give it.”

“Mum, come on!” You groaned, tilting your head back in frustration, “That’s not fair! If you take it, how am I supposed to watch Shrek?!”

“You should have thought about that before,” Leah said coolly, not missing a beat, “Now, hand it over.”

“But Mum, I–”

“You know the rules,” Leah interrupted, her tone unwavering.

You groaned dramatically, flopping back against the wall like you’d been personally wronged, “I can’t give it to you.”

Leah’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, “And why not?”

You crossed your arms, gaze darting to the side, “... It’s on charge.”

“Okay? Go get it,” Leah gestured in the direction with a wave of her hand.

“How, exactly?!” You pointed dramatically at your ankle, “You saw Lia carry me in! I can’t walk without my crutches.”

Leah let out a sharp exhale, pinching the bridge of her nose, “So let me get this straight. Not only have you been winding Buddy up, but you also threw your own crutches in the water?”

“Not to mention she was winding Kim up as well,” Lia mumbled, giving you a knowing look.

“In my defence–”

“There is no defence,” Leah cut in, already making her way to the kitchen where you’d left it on charge before going out.

You sighed, knowing the battle was lost as she returned a moment later, your iPad in hand. You stared at it longingly, already feeling the withdrawal symptoms kicking in, “This isn’t fair!”

“Maybe you should’ve thought about your precious screen time before you decided to be a pain in the arse,” Leah muttered, tucking your iPad securely under her arm, “Maybe you can take this time to think about your actions.”

You groaned, your whole body sagging like a deflated balloon, “But, Mum, it was Buddy-coded,” You tried, voice bordering on desperation, “Doesn’t that, y’know, count for something?”

“It does,” Leah raised an unimpressed eyebrow, “It counts for an extra day without your iPad.”

“What?” You gasped, hands flying to your face in mock horror, “Mum, nooo! That’s not fair! You’re so mean!”

The worst part? You couldn’t even storm upstairs in protest because, well… no crutches. Instead, you slumped in the corner, arms crossed, glaring at Leah like she’d personally ruined your entire life.

“I just want to protest the absolute injustice of it all,” You huffed.

Leah, entirely unbothered, pulled out of her phone, snapped a quick photo of you sulking, and sent it to Jordan with a smirk.

Does this look familiar? 😂 Someone’s sulking because they’ve lost the iPad for the day

A second later, Leah’s phone dinged.

Oh dear. Some things never do change I guess 😬

You're still committed to your silent protest, you slumped further against the wall in exaggerated misery. But then, an idea struck you–one last, desperate act of rebellion.

With a dramatic sigh, you let yourself slide off the wall, flopping onto the floor like a lifeless ragdoll, “I can’t go on,” You wailed, kicking your good foot feebly, “I have nothing left to live for!”

Leah, utterly unimpressed, stepped right over you without so much as a glance.

“Mummy! Can I watch Toy Stowy?” Buddy questioned, oblivious to your dramatics.

“Course we can, Bubba,” Leah agreed, picking up the TV remote and finding the requested movie.

“Oi! At least acknowledge my suffering” You called after her, twisting your head to glare at her retreating figure.

“Yeah, yeah,” Leah waved a dismissive hand, “I’ll be sure to send flowers to your funeral.”

You huffed in defeat as you sat there, slumped and sulking in your own misery, “I’m never speaking to you again!”

… Only to break that promise five minutes later when you realise without your crutches, you were stuck.

“Right, so, uh–” You shuffled awkwardly, “I know I said I wouldn’t speak to you, but… I need help getting up,” You gestured to your ankle and the complete lack of crutches, “This doesn’t mean I forgive you, though.”

Leah smirked, “Yeah, course not. Guess I won’t bother making your favourite dinner tonight then, huh?”

Your head snapped up so fast it was a miracle you didn’t get whiplash, “Whoa, whoa, whoa–hold on just a second now,” You backtracked, eyes wide with panic, “No need to be so hasty, Mum. You know I love my nuggets.”

Leah fought a grin, “That’s what I thought,” She said, her tone teasing yet firm as she turned to Lia and Kim, “Right, does anyone want a drink?” She asked, her smile growing as she enjoyed the playful standoff before making her way into the kitchen with Lia and Kim to leave you to your endless moping about the loss of your iPad and beloved Shrek.

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