❦ - Jamal Musiala Headcannons

❦ - ivy.

summary:: you’re in love with gavi, and loves you too, but the distance is breaking you.

warnings:: angst??

writers note:: WHY AM I LOWKEY COOKING. fics under 500 words are so easy like why’d i write this in like half an hour im getting somewhere 😍. ALSO DIV CREDS TO RIGHTFUL OWNER I JS FORGOT WHO IT BELONGS TO

tags:: @barcapix ; lmk if u wanna be added

There’s an ache in your chest, the kind you can’t name. The kind that only seems to surface when Gavi’s beside you.

It’s not that you don’t love him; you do. More than you probably should. But tonight, the silence feels heavier, the air charged with things neither of you dare to say.

He’s sprawled across the couch, hair messy from your fingers earlier. The game’s on in the background, but neither of you are watching. You’re tucked into his side, your head resting on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart.

‘I wish it didn’t feel like this sometimes,’ you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

Gavi’s fingers pause where they’ve been tracing lazy circles on your arm. ‘Like what?’

You pull back slightly to meet his eyes, and the question hangs between you. The weight of it, the truth of it.

‘Like we’re holding on too tight.’

His face softens, but there’s a flicker of something else there, too; fear, maybe, or recognition. ‘You’re all I’ve got,’ he says, so simply it makes your chest hurt.

The thing is, you believe him. And maybe that’s why it feels like this sometimes, like you’re tethered to each other by something too fragile to last. You love him so much it terrifies you, and some part of you knows he feels the same. But love like this,it burns too hot. Leaves scars.

‘We’re okay,’ he says, his voice steady now. ‘Aren’t we?’

You hesitate for a moment too long, and his hand tightens on your arm. ‘Tell me we’re okay,’ he pleads, his eyes searching yours.

You nod, because the truth is you don’t know how to live without him anymore. Because even when it hurts, he’s still the only person you want to come home to.

‘We’re okay,’ you say softly, and the relief in his expression almost breaks you.

He leans down, presses a kiss to your forehead, and pulls you closer. ‘I don’t care if we’re a mess,’ he murmurs. ‘As long as you’re mine.’

And for now, it’s enough.

Because even if this love isn’t perfect, it’s yours. And even if it hurts, it’s home.

hey do u write for hector fort 😭? and if u do please write some headcanons for my man 🙏🙏

❦ - hector fort boyfriend headcannons

summary:: pov; you’re hector’s girlfriend.

warnings:: none!

writers note:: ofc i’ll write for hec!! i’ll write for anyone so idmmm!! i love headcannons it’s easy and i’ve js clocked that my hcs are descriptive asf. 😭 also this is the end of my inbox which is crazy so keep on requesting bc i have no ideas of my own fics… AND IM WRITING THIS DURING BARCA VS BETIS SO GAVI GOALLLL 🤍

ꨄ - quality time ; his love language is definitely quality time. he loves spending time with you whether it’s quiet evenings inside or going for a late night walk.

ꨄ - he’s the type to bring you flowers randomly, not bc it’s a special occasion but on a random tuesday, just because why not.

ꨄ - he’s not fond of pda at all so instead he’ll just hold your hand or rest his arm around your shoulders just to make it known you’re his.

ꨄ - COMMUNICATION IS KEY. he’s big on communication so he’ll always make you feel heard.

ꨄ - his gifting is thoughtful ; he pays close attention to things you love and will always include that in gifting whenever he can.

ꨄ - he loves being close to you. whenever you’re together he’ll bring you closer to him and if you’re away for days he’ll send voice notes talking about how much he misses you.

ꨄ - whenever he’s with his teammates he’ll always try and mention you, and if you visit him after his training, they’ll never stop teasing him.

ꨄ - he ‘accidentally’ leaves his hoodies at your place.

ꨄ - lowkey a cutie bc whenever you fall asleep on him he’ll take a photo of you and post it on his story for you to see when you wake up

SORRY THIS IS SHORT I WAS LOWKEY OUT OF IDEAS

Hi! I'm going crazy after that Juventus vs. PSV match. Could you write something where the reader comforts Yildiz after this terrible game? He gave his all, even though he was put in during the final minutes, and his teammates seemed a bit slow.

❦ - in your arms, always.

summary:: kenan is frustrated after juventus’ tough loss against psv, feeling like he didn’t do enough despite giving his all in the final minutes. you’re there to comfort him, reminding him of his worth beyond a single match and offering the quiet support he needs. sometimes, being held is all it takes to ease the weight of disappointment.

warnings:: not really but it’s a bit angsty / comfort & mentions of self doubt.

writers note:: i saw this and instantly started writing loooord i love ts, anyways that’s so real bc i accidentally caught my reaction on camera and i was deadass going insane, anyways enjoy this fic as always!

tags:: @barcapix @n0vazsq @httpsdana @paucubarsisimp ; lmk if u wanna be added

the locker room was silent, the kind of silence that pressed against your eardrums and made your chest feel heavy. even through the walls, the muffled cheers of the psv fans outside the stadium stung. juventus had lost.

you stood outside the players’ tunnel, waiting. you had seen it all, how kenan was put in late, how he tried, sprinted, fought, but his teammates felt a step behind. and now, after all that effort, defeat still clung to the air like a storm cloud.

the moment he stepped out, your heart ached. his head was down, damp hair falling over his forehead, shoulders slumped under the weight of frustration. he hadn’t even taken off his jersey yet, the fabric still clinging to him from sweat and exhaustion.

‘kenan.’ your voice was soft, but it was enough to make him look up. his eyes, usually filled with that spark of determination, were dull.

he let out a heavy sigh, raking a hand through his curls before walking over to you. ‘that was terrible,’ he muttered. ‘i barely got any minutes, and even when i did… it felt like no one was on the same page.’

you reached for his hand, fingers wrapping around his, grounding him. ‘you did everything you could.’

his jaw clenched, and he pulled you into a quiet corner of the hallway, away from the noise of staff and players moving past. his grip tightened slightly, frustration evident in every part of him. ‘but it wasn't enough,’ he murmured. ‘i wanted to change the game. i wanted to..’ he exhaled sharply. ‘i should’ve done more.’

‘kenan,’ you whispered, reaching up to brush the damp strands of hair away from his forehead. ‘you barely got time to make an impact. and still, you played with your heart, you tried. i saw it. everyone watching saw it.’

his eyes met yours, searching, like he was trying to believe your words but struggling to let go of his own self-criticism. ‘it just.. it hurts,’ he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. ‘i hate feeling like this. like no matter what i do, it's not enough.’

you cupped his face gently, thumbs tracing slow circles against his skin. ‘you are enough,’ you said firmly. ‘one match doesn't change that. one loss doesn't erase all the talent, all the passion you bring to the game.’

he leaned into your touch, eyes slipping shut for a moment as if he was letting himself believe you, letting your warmth seep into the cracks frustration had left behind.

‘i just…’ he sighed again, but this time, his shoulders relaxed slightly. ‘i need to get better. i need to work harder.’

‘you will,’ you assured him. ‘but not tonight. tonight, you need to breathe. to rest. to let go, just a little.’

a small, exhausted chuckle left his lips as he shook his head. ‘you always know what to say, don't you?’

‘that’s because i know you,’ you said, squeezing his hand. ‘and i know that no matter what, you'll come back stronger. you always do.’

he exhaled, and then, without warning, he pulled you into his arms, burying his face into the crook of your neck. his embrace was tight, desperate, like he needed you to hold him together. you wrapped your arms around him just as firmly, fingers tracing soothing patterns along his back.

‘i'm proud of you,’ you whispered into his shoulder. ‘not just for what you did tonight, but for the player, and person, you are.’

kenan didn’t say anything for a while. he just held you, grounding himself in your presence, letting the frustration slowly melt away. when he finally pulled back, there was still disappointment in his eyes, but there was something softer there too, something like hope.

‘come on,’ you said with a small smile. ‘let’s go home.’

and for the first time that night, he nodded without hesitation, lacing his fingers through yours as you walked away from the echoes of the match, into the quiet comfort of each other.

https://www.tumblr.com/joaosnovia/776758335281168384/ykw-i-was-watching-a-video-of-gavi-walking-and-ive

Guys he just has bow legs 😭

it happens to a lot of footballers when they’re kids because when they’re having growth spurts and when their bones are still developing, there’s a lot of stress on their knees!

The action of kicking mostly uses the inside leg muscles, when can sometimes make an imbalance that can pull the knee joint inwards, which makes the shin bone to angle outwards/inwards!

(sorry for the physio yap 😭 long story short he’s alg but he has a higher risk of knee injuries and knee arthritis 😃)

LMAOOO IKKK I MENTIONED IT BC I SAW A TT AB HOW GAVI HAS REALLY FUCKED UP LEGS AND I JUST NEVER NOTICED IT @barcapix

insecure

credits to the owner!

summary: gavi comforts you

warnings: slighty angst

pairing: pablo gavi x fem!reader

request: maybe an imagine where the reader is feeling insecure about herself, and pablo just gives her loads of reassurance? some angst and fluff? ❤️

taglist: @paucubarsisimp, @barcapix, @joaosnovia

requests are open!

masterlist

Tears streamed down your face as you walked back home. You were at a meeting with a new friend from college and it ended the same as any of your meetings with girls.

Without knowing why you couldn't get along with your own gender, they always turned out to be false, every one you met. Today was no different, because the girl baselessly criticized your appearance in a perfidious way. Unfortunately, she hit your weak spot, your huge complex, which is your nose and your figure.

You were an extremely sensitive person and it touched you very much. You didn't know what was wrong with you and why you couldn't find a friend for yourself. You felt very alone in this respect. You didn't have a sister, and you had very little contact with your mother to just talk about girly things that boys didn't understand.

You returned home, slamming the door lightly. You felt defeated. Your boyfriend Pablo frowned at the sudden noise and stood up from the couch to meet your eyes.

"Baby, what happened?" he asked immediately taking you into his arms, wiping your tears.

“Same thing again” you sobbed into his neck. "Pablo, what's wrong with me?" you asked, and his heart clenched with grief at the sound of your cries. "Why can't I get along with any girl?" you sobbed.

"Everything is fine with you, amor. They are stupid that they can't appreciate you" he stroked your back, whispering in your ear.

Gavi led you to the couch where he let you cry in his arms as he held you tightly.

"What did she do?" he asked, his heart breaking at the sight of you as you cried your eyes out.

"She started criticizing my appearance, so suddenly" you said, squeezing the material of his sweatshirt, burying your face in his neck, you felt the boy kissing your head.

“What a slut” he said, caressing your cheek, motioning for you to look at him. "What did she say?" he asked, you could tell he was nervous.

"She commented on my nose, that it was too crooked, and said that I had gained weight, saying that I should take care of myself" you confessed, and Pablo squeezed his hands furiously until his knuckles turned white.

“I hope you didn't believe her” he said firmly, rubbing circles on your arm.

You looked at him with tearful eyes, making eye contact with him, which said otherwise.

“Oh, amor mío” he whispered, pulling you closer into his arms, placing kisses on the top of your head. "For me, you are the most wonderful person in the world. I love your beautiful nose, and this crazy woman is blind for telling you that you are fat, because you are not. You have a normal figure, which I also love. I love you all, just as you are and no other person has no right to question your beauty, mi preciosa" he kissed your nose and you smiled softly. "And that's what I always want to see on your lovely face" he said, giggling softly.

“Thank you, Pablito” you said softly, sniffling, and he kissed your forehead.

“I'm always here for you, princesa” he gave you another kiss. "So what? Masks, nails and gossip?" he asked, making you laugh and you nodded.

Pablo was your best friend. He tried his best for you to make you feel better. He let you paint his nails and braid his hair in short braids. You put a blindfold on him to keep his hair out of his eyes when you putting masks on your faces. He secretly loved it. He loved talking to you and gossiping about everything, sharing your enthusiasm. You were grateful for that. 

“I love you, mi princesa bonita” you heard when you were already half asleep while lying on his chest as you watched a movie.

"I love you too, Pablito. I'm glad I have you in my life" you whispered weakly, opening your eyes for a moment to look into his brown ones.

He looked at you with unimaginable love, pressing your lips together in a sweet kiss goodnight. He pulled you close to him so that you could hear his heartbeat and you knew you had found the best boy in the world.

if you like this, please like, reblog or comment 🫶🏻

❦ - amore a milan.

summary:: you and your STUPID boyfriend go on a spontaneous trip to crash a wedding in milan and ending up dancing under the stars.

warnings:: alcohol consumption (it shows 😒), mild trespassing and really shit decision making.

writers note:: my creativity really sparked here and shoutout to baby for being great motivation (don’t end up like chiara kids!) anyways yeah so please enjoy bc i loved writing this! ALSO SHOUTOUT TO THAT ONE DONA MARIA JOAO FIC FROM 2023 THAT WAS PEAK WRITING AND INSPO.

tags:: @barcapix @n0vazsq @httpsdana @paucubarsisimp ; lmk if u wanna be added

you never thought you’d be sneaking around milan at midnight with joão, but here you were, barefoot, holding your shoes in one hand, the other tugging him along as you ran down an empty street, laughter echoing off the buildings.

'we're definitely getting arrested,' you whispered between giggles.

'worth it,' joão grinned, eyes bright in the streetlights. 'best idea you've ever had.'

in your defense, you hadn’t planned on crashing a wedding. it had started with dinner, turned into drinks, and somehow joão noticed the celebration across the street, music spilling out, people dancing on the sidewalk. the next thing you knew, you were slipping into the reception, dancing like you belonged there.

'you've got moves,' you teased, recalling how he’d spun you under the fairy lights, both of you blending seamlessly with the guests.

'you weren't too bad yourself,' he shot back, brushing his hair from his face as you finally slowed down, breathless. 'especially for someone who said they can’t dance.'

'technically, i said i can’t dance well,’ you corrected. 'there’s a difference.'

he stopped, tugging you into an empty plaza. 'prove it.'

'joão, there's no music.'

'doesn’t matter.'

he placed your hands on his shoulders, his finding your waist. you rolled your eyes but let him sway you gently, the world falling quiet around you. just the two of you, under a sky littered with stars.

'you’re ridiculous,' you mumbled, but your smile betrayed you.

'you love it,' he murmured back.

you did. god, you really did.

he leaned in, forehead resting against yours. 'best night ever,' he said softly.

'we literally committed minor trespassing,' you laughed.

'adds to the charm.'

you pulled away just enough to meet his gaze. 'next time, maybe something less illegal?'

'we’ll see,' he grinned. 'no promises.'

and honestly? you didn’t mind the chaos, not when it meant moments like this.

STOP YOUR ACC AESTHETIC IS SO CUTE I LOVE ITTTTTTT AND I READ SOME OF YOUR FICS (from eve's reblogs <3) AND THEY ATEEEEE

THANK YOUUU, YOURE SO SWEET HELLO?? I LOVE YOUR FICS TOO YOU GUYS ARE ACTUALLY AMAZING??

SOOOO YK WHO IT IS BBG BUTT maybe like jude x reader where shes an influencer for adidas and her and jude have to do a COLLAB FOr the brand and stuff i trust ur imagination❤️❤️

❦ - all eyes on us.

summary:: you’re a famous influencer who’s been paired up with jude for adidas pr.

warnings:: none!

writers note:: i love this hello? i love you babe this is such a yummy request i love writing this!! 😍 also i’ve clocked that i write sm in my writers note so uhm anywho this is my first jude fic so i hope my jude girlies like it!! btw this is my first time trying this style of writing ig so tell me if it’s good xx

word count:: 2,708

You never minded the fast paced world of being an influencer. You’d built your brand around effortless style and relatable charm, snagging deals with top-tier companies like Adidas. Campaigns like this were nothing new to you - until Jude entered the picture.

He was charming, no doubt. Tall, confident, and with a way of making everyone in the room laugh, he had that kind of natural magnetism that couldn’t be taught. From the moment he walked into the studio, you felt the shift in the air.

But it wasn’t just his presence that threw you off, it was how easy he made everything look, even while you were secretly trying not to embarrass yourself.

You both stood under the spotlight for your first set of shots. The creative director had explained the vibe they were going for: young, edgy, and fun. This meant capturing moments of banter, mock rivalry, and flirtation.

‘I’m not used to being outshined,’ you muttered to Jude as the photographer adjusted their camera.

He leaned down slightly, just enough to meet your gaze. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll let you win this one.’

The nerve of him.

‘Alright, Jude, throw your arm around her shoulder,’ the photographer instructed.

You felt the weight of his arm drape across you, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. The warmth of his skin through the fabric of your hoodie was distracting; almost too distracting.

‘Now laugh, like he just said something funny,’ the photographer added.

Jude didn’t miss a beat. ‘I didn’t realize fake laughing was part of your influencer requirements,’ he teased under his breath.

You tilted your head back and laughed anyway, your genuine amusement mixing with the forced effort.

The real chaos started after the shoot. Adidas had planned a tiktok segment where you and Jude would compete in challenges to promote the campaign.

The first challenge was simple: a lip-sync duet to a viral audio clip. Jude was awful at keeping up, missing half the words and breaking into laughter when he saw your exaggerated expressions.

‘Do you even know how tiktok works?’ you asked, barely able to hold back your laughter.

‘Not really,’ he admitted, grinning. ‘I’m more of a football guy, remember?’

‘Clearly. Let me handle this part.’

But when it came to the second challenge, a reaction test where you had to slap each other’s hands before the other could dodge - Jude’s reflexes as a professional athlete completely ruined your chances.

‘You’re impossible,’ you huffed, swatting at him as he casually held his hands just out of reach.

‘Don’t hate the player,’ he replied, his grin widening.

By the time the day ended, you were sitting on the studio’s couch, scrolling through some of the footage on your phone. Jude plopped down beside you, his body radiating warmth even in the air-conditioned room.

‘Let me see,’ he said, leaning over your shoulder.

You tilted the phone so he could watch the clips. The two of you looked so natural together, laughing, teasing, and bantering like you’d known each other for years instead of hours.

‘This one’s my favourite,’ he said, pointing at a video where you’d accidentally tripped over a cord mid shoot. Instead of falling, Jude had caught you with an arm around your waist, and the moment had turned into a perfectly awkward laugh caught on camera.

‘Yeah, that’s real ‘effortless cool,’ you said sarcastically.

He leaned back, his smirk softening into something more sincere. ‘You’re good at this. Like, really good. It’s not just the cameras. You’ve got... presence.’

You turned to him, surprised by the compliment. ‘Thanks, Jude. You’re not bad yourself, you know. For a footballer.’

As you both walked out of the studio, Jude fell into step beside you. The evening air was cool, the streets of the city buzzing with life.

‘You hungry?’ he asked casually, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie.

You glanced up at him, caught off guard. ‘Are you asking me to dinner?’

‘Maybe,’ he replied, that boyish grin creeping onto his face. ‘Unless you’re too busy for a post shoot celebration.’

You pretended to consider it. ‘Depends. Is this dinner part of the campaign, or is this just you trying to get to know me better?’

He laughed, shaking his head. ‘Off the record. No cameras, no Adidas logos. Just you and me.’

You hesitated for a moment before smiling. ‘Alright, Jude. You’ve got yourself a deal.’

The restaurant Jude chose wasn’t flashy, which surprised you. No cameras, no fancy decor, just a tucked away little spot that smelled like garlic and freshly baked bread. It was soft, warm, and nothing like the high-energy day you’d just had.  

‘This is unexpected,’ you said, sliding into the booth opposite him.  

‘What? Did you think I’d take you to some five-star rooftop spot?’ He smiled, setting his phone facedown on the table. ‘Not my style.’

‘I don’t know, you football types always seem... I don’t know, extra?’

Jude leaned back, one arm draped casually over the booth. ‘I’m not exactly your average footballer. But you already knew that.’

You laughed, shaking your head. ‘Alright, I’ll give you that. You’re different.’

The waiter appeared, and you both ordered, Jude insisting you get the house special because ‘it’s the only reason I come here.’ Once the waiter disappeared, there was a brief silence, the kind that could’ve been awkward if Jude wasn’t so effortlessly comfortable.  

‘So, do you always nonchalantly get your way through shoots like that?’ you teased, resting your chin on your hand.  

His eyebrows shot up. ‘Nonchalance? That’s what you call it?’

‘What else would I call it?’

‘Survival,’ he said with a laugh. ‘You don’t understand, I’m used to kicking a ball around, not posing and trying to look cool.’

‘Well, you pulled it off,’ you admitted. ‘Even if you were hopeless at TikTok.’

‘Hopeless?’ He leaned forward, grinning. ‘You’re crazy, you know that?’

‘Just honest,’ you said, matching his energy.  

The banter flowed as naturally as it had on set, but there was something more intimate about it now. Without the cameras and the crew, Jude wasn’t just the Adidas poster boy or the football sensation, he was Jude, the guy who couldn’t stop making you laugh.  

As you left the restaurant, you didn’t notice the group of fans across the street until one of them shouted his name.  

‘Jude! Over here!’

You glanced at him, expecting him to be annoyed, but instead, he smiled and waved, walking over to sign autographs and take a few pictures. You hung back, not wanting to steal his moment, but one of the fans pointed at you.  

‘Is that your girlfriend?’

Your cheeks burned, and before you could even respond, Jude turned to you with a smirk. ‘What do you think? Should we let them guess?’

You rolled your eyes, trying to play it cool. ‘Let’s not start rumors on a Wednesday night.’

The fans laughed, but your heart raced as Jude returned to your side, his hand brushing against yours.  

‘Sorry about that,’ he said once you were out of earshot.  

‘Does that happen a lot?’

‘All the time,’ he admitted. ‘You get used to it. But I guess that’s your world too, huh? Fans, cameras, people watching your every move?’

‘It’s... different,’ you said honestly. ‘I mean, I don’t have people yelling my name on the street, but yeah, there’s pressure to always be ‘on.’’

He nodded, his expression softening. ‘Yeah, I get that.’

You woke up the next day to your phone buzzing non-stop. Half-asleep, you grabbed it off your nightstand and squinted at the screen.  

Your notifications were flooded.  

FootyUpdates: ‘Jude Bellingham spotted at dinner with influencer yourusername last night 👀 Fans are already shipping it!’

AdidasOfficial: ‘Name a more iconic duo than JudeBellingham and yourusername. We’ll wait.’

yourfanacc: ‘Wait, are Jude and Y/N a THING?!? They look so cute together!!!’

You groaned, scrolling through the dozens of comments, edits, and conspiracy theories. One clip in particular was gaining traction, a TikTok of you and Jude laughing during the campaign shoot, set to a romantic song.  

Your phone buzzed again.  

Jude: morning darling. you seen the chaos yet?

You laughed, typing back. 

oh, you mean the part where we’re trending? yeahhh, just saw it.

think adidas planned this?

wouldn’t put it past them

There was a pause before his next message came through.  

Jude: you alright with it? 

You hesitated. The attention was overwhelming, sure, but there was something exciting about it too.  

mhm, as long as you’re ok being shipped w me?

Jude: could be worse. you’re kinda hard not to like.

The buzz from the campaign only grew, and Adidas wasted no time capitalizing on it. Within a week, you and Jude were booked for another event, a live Q&A streamed on Instagram.  

‘You ready for this?’ he asked as you both sat down in front of the camera.  

‘Not even a little,’ you admitted, adjusting your mic.  

The questions started off innocent enough, favorite Adidas pieces, funniest moments from the shoot, but it didn’t take long for fans to steer the conversation toward your ‘chemistry.’

‘So, what’s it like working together?’ one fan asked.  

Jude glanced at you, a playful glint in his eye. ‘Terrible. She bullies me non stop.’

You gasped, swatting his arm. ‘That’s a lie! You’re the bully.’

The fans ate it up, the comment section exploding with heart emojis.

As the weeks went on, you and Jude kept crossing paths, for more Adidas campaigns, promotional events, and even the occasional text conversation that drifted into late night time. The more time you spent together, the harder it became to ignore the spark between you.  

But with every laugh, every lingering glance, there was always that voice in the back of your head reminding you of the cameras, the fans, and the fact that you were both living in two completely different worlds.  

One night, after a particularly long shoot, Jude turned to you as you were packing up your things.  

‘Hey,’ he said softly. ‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Of course,’ you replied, pausing.  

‘Do you ever... wish things were simpler? Like, no cameras, no pressure. Just normal?’

His question caught you off guard, but you nodded. ‘All the time. Why?’

He hesitated for a moment before giving you a small smile. ‘Just wondering.’

You didn’t push, but the way he looked at you in that moment stayed with you long after you’d gone home.  

It was late. You were sitting at a café, hunched over your laptop, trying to get some work done before the next event. The world outside was quiet, the kind of peaceful night that made everything feel suspended in time.  

Your phone buzzed again.  

Jude: you still up?

You smiled, quickly typing back.

always. got a shoot tomorrow. what’s up?

A few seconds later, his response popped up.  

Jude: wanna grab a drink rq?

You hesitated. There was something different about tonight. Jude had been subtly pulling away lately, nothing obvious, just an undercurrent of distance. Maybe it was the pressure of the campaign, the media frenzy, or maybe he was just being careful not to blur the lines between your professional relationship and whatever else might be brewing.  

But the truth was, you’d been feeling the same thing. The moments you spent together were becoming harder to ignore. Every time you caught his eye, or when he touched your shoulder in passing, your heart would skip a beat.  

i’d love to.

The bar was quiet, tucked into a side street away from the chaos of the city. It was dimly lit, with soft jazz playing in the background. You both sat at a small table near the window, your drinks untouched as the conversation flowed between easy laughter and deeper silences.  

‘I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous around someone,’ Jude confessed, swirling his drink with a half-smile.  

You raised an eyebrow. ‘You? Nervous?’

He nodded, a subtle vulnerability in his gaze that you hadn’t seen before. ‘Yeah. I guess I don’t really know how to... handle this.’

‘Handle what?’ you asked, your voice softening.  

‘This.’ He gestured between the two of you. ‘Whatever this is. I mean, you’ve been a part of my life now for what, a few weeks? But every time we’re together, it feels like something... more.’

The words hung in the air, and you felt your breath catch in your throat.  

You set your drink down and leaned forward, heart pounding. ‘Jude, I get it.’

His eyes flicked to yours, searching for the sincerity behind your words.  

‘You get what?’

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment. ‘The pressure. The cameras, the fans, this whole world we live in. But I think... I think I’ve been avoiding this whatever this is between us, because it’s too complicated. I don’t know how to work it either.’

There was a long pause before Jude finally spoke, his voice low and steady. ‘I don’t want to keep pretending like it’s nothing. Like this isn’t affecting me. Because it is. Every time I see you, every time we talk, I can’t help but feel like I’m falling for you.’

Your heart hammered in your chest. ‘Jude, I...’

But before you could finish, he leaned in, his hand brushing against yours on the table. His touch was light but electric, sending a shiver up your spine.  

‘I don’t want to fight this anymore,’ he whispered, his eyes locked on yours. ‘I don’t want to pretend that I don’t want this. I want you.’ 

The tension between you both was insane. You could feel the weight of his words, and something inside you clicked. It was as if the floodgates had opened, and you finally understood that all the moments of hesitation, the awkwardness, and the teasing had been building up to this one point.  

Slowly, carefully, you leaned forward, closing the space between you. The kiss was gentle at first, almost tentative, like you both were unsure, testing the waters. But then Jude’s hand cupped the back of your neck, pulling you in closer, and everything about that moment felt right.  

Your heart raced as you kissed him deeper, the world around you fading away. There was no camera, no pressure, no fans, just you and him, two people who had been dancing around this moment for far too long.  

When you finally pulled back, breathless, Jude rested his forehead against yours. ‘I’ve wanted to do that for so long,’ he murmured.  

You smiled, a little breathless yourself. ‘Me too.’

He laughed, that familiar spark returning to his eyes. ‘Guess it was worth the wait, huh?’

You nodded, still caught in the whirlwind of emotions. ‘Worth it.’

There was a comfortable silence as you both sat back in your seats, the world outside still unaware of what had just shifted between you.  

But in that moment, it didn’t matter. You’d crossed a line, one that couldn’t be uncrossed. Whatever happened next, you both knew it wouldn’t be easy. The cameras, the fans, the expectations, they’d all be there. But for the first time in weeks, you felt certain of one thing: you wanted this.  

And maybe, just maybe, he did too.  

The next day, you and Jude had to face reality. The media frenzy about your ‘relationship’ reached new heights, with every tabloid, Instagram post, and fan account speculating on what the kiss meant.  

But for once, it didn’t faze you. You were sitting next to him, the two of you quietly sipping coffee in the hotel lobby, exchanging glances and small smiles like you hadn’t just turned your world upside down.  

‘You know they’re gonna talk about this for days, right?’ you said, half-amused.  

Jude chuckled, reaching for your hand under the table. ‘Let them. We’ve got something real, even if they don’t get it.’

‘I’m okay with that.’ You squeezed his hand gently, the connection between you undeniable.  

And maybe that was the point. No matter what the world thought, you and Jude had found something real in the chaos. Something that couldn’t be captured by a camera, something just for the two of you.  

And for the first time in a long time, you felt free.  

IM SCREAMING AND THIS LOWKEY REMINDS ME TO POST THE FICS IN MY DRAFTS THANK YOU BAE

hiii i luv u and ur fics and can i request more joao please? there’s barely anything for him now! similar to your headcanons-what about where he takes makeup off for reader when she’s tired? xoxo

✮ Reverie - João Felix

joão felix x fem!reader

sy: when joão helps you remove your makeup after a tiring day.

a/n: this is just a short drabble until i finish five/six fics which should be published within a week or so! (another one for joão, one for torre, one for hector, one for bernal, one for charles, and maybe one for pedri) & also thank u ily 💓

warnings: no

joão came home late again, finding the house all quiet and eerie. the lights were off, curtains shut and many throwovers wearily scattered along the rim of the sofa.

the only source of light was the faint glow coming from upstairs, as he followed the light, his steps quiet, to end up at the foot of your bedroom door.

he gently pushed it open, the wood creaking at the sudden movement. as he stepped inside into the dim room, it was all similarly still—eerily silent, except for the small lamp set on the nightstand.

instantly, his eyes were drawn to you—already curled up on the bed, half-asleep, your makeup still on from the tiring day you endured.

“hey love,” he whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed. “you forgot to take your makeup off.”

you groaned lightly, eyes barely opening. “too tired.” you murmured something of a sentence and buried your face further into the duvet.

“stay here,” joão ordered mellowly, peppering a kiss to the back of your hand, before disappearing into the bathroom. by now, he was an expert at this routine, and so instinctively rummaged through the cabinets to find the things needed.

a moment later, he returned with a small bowl of warm water, a soft cloth, and some cotton pads saturated with micellar water.

he reclaimed his spot besides you, gently dipping the cloth into the bowl. “let me help you.”

joão began by carefully pressing the damp cloth to your forehead, feeling the tension in your skin ease under his touch.

the brunette wiped at your cheeks, his hands steady and patient as if he were savouring the simple intimacy. each stroke removed a layer of the day—both physically and mentally—as you found yourself sinking further into the plush pillows.

slowly, the exhaustion that had been brewing inside all day seemed to dissipate under his loving devotion.

he moved to your eyes next, the mascara clinging stubbornly to your lashes. his movements were tender, deliberately cautious to not tug or hurt you.

you barely registered the sensation—your body too drained to protest. a hushed sigh of relief escaped your lips, with your eyes glued shut, as his fingertips soothed away the remnants of your makeup.

“almost done,” he muttered. his fingers lingered on your skin a moment longer, appreciating your raw beauty.

to him, makeup or not, you were perfect.

“there, im all finished now.” he murmured, setting the cloth aside. “now you can sleep meu amor.”

you stirred, reaching out to lace his hand with yours and squeezing it lazily. “thank you baby.” your voice still thick with drowsiness.

“anytime,” he chuckled tacitly, circling his thumb the soft curve of your cheek. “get some rest.”

he took his own advice, swiftly settling besides you on his side of the bed. he cradled you close to his chest possessively, as you drifted off into a peaceful slumber.

joão stayed awake for a while longer, listening to your regular heartbeats against his own as he ensured you were fully asleep.

fc barcelona out of context