❦ - Priorities.

Helloooo can I request reader bringing home a stray cat and trying to hide it from Guille?

Thank u <3

❦ - sneaking around.

summary:: req pretty much explains it

warnings:: none, i think there’s cussing but idk

writers notes:: so i wrote this like 2 weeks ago and it’s quite lazy but i have HUGE requests to do so im really genuinely sorry bc this is the best you’re getting outa me esp w exam season 💔.

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

bringing home a stray cat had not been part of the plan.

you’d just been walking back from the store when you saw him, tiny, scrappy, and clearly in need of help. and maybe it was the way he meowed at you, or maybe it was just your soft heart, but before you knew it, you were sneaking him inside your apartment, carefully avoiding making noise.

there was just one problem.

guille.

your boyfriend, guille fernández, who liked animals but was very aware of how much responsibility they came with. and, more importantly, who had specifically told you, ‘don’t bring home any more strays.’

but this wasn’t ‘any more.’ this was just one.

‘alright, little guy,’ you whispered, setting the cat down gently in your room. ‘we just have to keep you hidden until i figure something out.’

he meowed up at you. loud.

‘shhh—’

‘shhh what?’

you froze. guille’s voice came from the hallway.

shit.

‘nothing!’ you called back, quickly grabbing a hoodie and draping it over the cat, who did not appreciate the gesture.

too late. guille stepped into the room, giving you a suspicious look. ‘what are you doing?’

‘uh—nothing?’

he squinted. ‘why are you standing like that?’

‘like what?’

‘like you’re hiding something.’

before you could respond, the smallest meow escaped from under the hoodie.

guille’s eyes narrowed. ‘no. no way.’

‘babe, listen—’

‘you brought home another stray?’

you gave him your best innocent look. ‘technically, he followed me.’

guille groaned, dragging a hand down his face. ‘we talked about this.’

‘but look at him!’ you pulled back the hoodie, revealing the tiny cat, who blinked up at guille like he was the most unimpressed thing on earth. ‘he’s cute, right?’

guille sighed, staring at the cat. ‘we are not keeping him.’

‘of course not,’ you agreed way too quickly. ‘just, you know, temporarily.’

guille gave you a long look. then, finally, he exhaled. ‘fine. but you’re cleaning up after him.’

‘obviously.’

‘and feeding him.’

‘of course.’

‘and i swear, if you name him something stupid—’

‘his name is fernando.’

guille groaned again, but when he thought you weren’t looking, you caught him scratching behind fernando’s ear.

you smirked. yeah. this cat was staying.

jealous kenan about his teammates finding you attractive and his rival team so he’s not playing good until the last bit and when reader comes down to the pitch she just gives her a hungry kiss to show everybody she’s takin

❦ - the love of italia.

summary:: kenan finding out that almost the whole of italy put him off his game by a lot, eventually motivating him to do better.

warnings:: none

writers note:: thing is, i wrote this as soon as i got the req (ages ago) before ramadan thinking that i’d be able to post it before then but life had other plans so khalas, the haram police can’t catch me because i wrote this BEFORE ramadan.

tags:: @barcapix @n0vazsq @httpsdana @paucubarsisimp

kenan yildiz was not having a good game.

it wasn’t because he was out of form, or tired, or struggling tactically. no, kenan was playing like shit because his mind was elsewhere. specifically, on you.

it had started before kickoff. you’d come to support him, looking effortlessly good in one of his old juventus hoodies, the sleeves hanging past your fingers, your hair falling just right. that alone would’ve been enough to distract him, but what really set him off was the way his teammates, and worse, the opposing team, had noticed.

‘so that’s your girl, huh?’ one of his teammates had asked in the locker room, nodding toward where you were chatting with some staff near the stands. ‘damn. didn’t know you were pulling like that.’

kenan had just given him a look.

then, during warmups, he caught some of the other team’s players also looking. one even had the audacity to say something to him as they passed.

‘number 10’s playing for more than just three points today, huh?’

kenan clenched his jaw so hard he thought his teeth might crack.

from that moment on, he was done for.

it was obvious from the first whistle, kenan was off.

his passes were sloppy. his first touch was heavier than usual. he missed chances he’d normally bury without thinking. and every time someone from the rival team got near him, talking just enough shit for the ref not to hear, his blood boiled a little more.

‘what’s up with yildiz today?’ the commentators were already talking about it.

his coach was yelling from the sidelines. his teammates were trying to snap him out of it. but nothing worked. because every time he looked up, there you were, beautiful, perfect, and completely oblivious to the chaos happening in his head.

it wasn’t until the last few minutes of the game that something finally clicked.

it was still 0-0. they had one last attack. the ball came to kenan’s feet, and for the first time all game, his frustration sharpened into something useful.

he drove forward, weaving past defenders like they weren’t even there. everything else faded. the noise, the tension, the trash talk, it didn’t matter. all that mattered was getting this goal.

and he did.

a clean strike. bottom corner. unstoppable.

the stadium erupted. his teammates surrounded him, yelling, pulling him into hugs. but kenan barely reacted. his celebration was already planned.

his eyes went straight to you.

the second the final whistle blew, you made your way down to the pitch. you weren’t even thinking, you just knew you had to get to him.

by the time you reached the field, kenan was already waiting. his jersey was damp with sweat, his breathing still heavy, but his eyes were locked onto you like you were the only person in the world.

‘kenan, that goal—’

you didn’t get to finish. because the moment you were close enough, he grabbed you. one hand firm on your waist, the other curling around the back of your neck. and then he kissed you.

not just any kiss, a statement.

it was possessive, like he wanted to make sure every single person watching, his teammates, his rivals, the entire damn stadium, knew exactly who you belonged to.

you barely registered the cheers (and teasing whistles) from his teammates. all you could focus on was kenan, his body pressed against yours, the way his fingers dug into your waist.

when he finally pulled back, his expression unreadable.

‘you’re mine,’ he muttered, voice low enough for only you to hear.

your breath caught. but before you could even think of a response, he smirked, like he already knew the answer. like he knew you weren’t going anywhere.

and honestly? he was right.

i love you and this might seem like a broad ask do feel free to skip but could you possibly do a post on just joao felix

ofccc! Thank you for requesting!

This is texts with João Félix!

Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: a little brain rot 😛

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

hey! If youre looking for requests could you write something for charles leclerc? General hcs about dating him or a drabble maybe (i would melt if it was about him as a dad with kids🫠). Either is great but no pressure at all! Xx

❦ - maman et papa.

summary:: just a simple day w your family. (IDK WTF TO PUT HERE 😭)

warnings:: none?

writers note:: so like this is really short but i hope u guys like it bc ive never written for him 😔.

ion have a taglist for f1 fics yet but lmk if you’d wanna be apart of it if i do make one!

the sound of giggles filled the leclerc household as charles lay sprawled on the floor, two tiny figures climbing over him. his youngest, a little girl with wild curls just like his, had her chubby hands planted firmly on his chest, her face scrunched up in concentration.

'i win!' she declared, sitting triumphantly on his stomach.

charles gasped dramatically, throwing his head back. 'nooo, you’re too strong for me!'

his son, older by three years and fiercely competitive, frowned. 'papa, it’s my turn!'

'alright, alright, one at a time!' charles laughed, but neither child listened. soon they were both on top of him, their small hands attempting to pin him down. he let them win, of course, lying there with a grin as their laughter echoed through the room.

a soft chuckle came from the doorway. you leaned against the frame, arms crossed, watching the scene unfold. 'having fun?'

charles looked up at you, hair tousled and cheeks flushed. 'rescue me?' he asked, but there was no real pleading in his voice, only warmth, love, and a happiness that made your chest ache in the best way.

your daughter scrambled off him and ran to you, holding her arms up. 'maman, papa’s a loser!'

charles feigned offense. 'traitor!' he called after her, but when his gaze met yours again, his expression softened. 'this... this is the best, isn’t it?'

and as you watched your little family dissolve into another round of giggles and tickle fights, you could only nod. 'yeah, it really is.'

omg please do joão félix bf head cannons w a non famous girl

❦ - joao felix & non famous gf head cannons

summary: you’re joao felix’s girlfriend except you’re not famous.

warnings: ACTUALLY YES THERE IS!! MAGUI MENTIONED.

writers note: ahhh anon i love this idea, evrb makes fics of the reader being famous but that’s so unlikely!! also ignore the fact that it was so obvious that i made this on the plane and im so sorry for it taking so long!! i’ve been travelling 💔

ꨄ - you’re honestly not too fond of you being all over the media, you like your privacy so joao respects that and his posts w you don’t often include your face

ꨄ - (HOWEVER!! if you want to be part of joaos socials; here is the alternative!!) ; he often is proud to show you off as his girlfriend, leading the media to love you as chelsea’s new hot wag

ꨄ - when the media originally found out, people were skeptical, were you with him only for the money?? comparisons of you and magui appeared for some reason journalists being in maguis favour although it was never really a competition

ꨄ - eventually, news outlets post ‘who is joao felix’s new girlfriend? 10 facts about y/n that you probably didn’t know about’ which is quite ironic considering that they thought you were a gold digger

ꨄ - lowkey dates: for example, instead of a big dinner, he’ll take

you out for late night drives

ꨄ - since he travels a lot, whenever you guys have quiet time tg whether its chatting on the couch or playing fifa tg, he cherishes it

ꨄ - even though you aren’t famous, as soon as the media found out about you your insta followers grew insanely

ꨄ - speaking of insta, he posts you a lot on his story, even if its just you holding his hand

kenan yildiz fic?🫶🏼 part 2 of the recent mbyy

❦ - cut my hair.

summary:: your boyfriend is so distant to the point you’re convinced he doesn’t care

warnings:: NO HAPPY ENDING.

writers note:: i’m sorry for disappearing but mocks are the death of me! anyways sorry this took so long 😔😔.

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

You wish he would just say it.

That he doesn’t care. That this never meant anything. That you could leave and he wouldn’t even blink.

Because maybe then it wouldn’t hurt so much.

Instead, Kenan just stands there, hands in his pockets, watching you with that same unreadable expression. Like he knows what you’re thinking. Like he knows you’re trying to convince yourself that walking away is the right thing to do.

Maybe it is.

‘I can’t keep doing this,’ you say, voice quieter than you want it to be.

Kenan exhales, running a hand through his hair. ‘So don’t.’

Your stomach twists. That’s it? No argument, no apologies, just those two words, thrown out like they don’t matter. Like you don’t matter.

You shake your head, forcing a bitter laugh. ‘You make it look so easy.’

His jaw clenches, but he doesn’t say anything.

And maybe that’s the real problem.

Because you’ve spent so much time trying to read between the lines, waiting for something, anything, to prove that he feels this the way you do. But all you ever get is silence.

You take a shaky breath. ‘I changed for you, you know. Cut off pieces of myself just to fit into whatever space you had left.’

Kenan flinches. It’s subtle, barely there, but you catch it.

For the first time, you wonder if maybe he does care. If maybe this is hard for him, too. But even if it is, it’s not enough.

It never is.

So you force yourself to step back, ignoring the way your chest aches. ‘I won’t do it anymore.’

He stays quiet.

And this time, you don’t wait for an answer. You turn and leave, without looking back.

okay so i lowkey sound like a beg but please send me requests because i wanna write but i physically cannot come up w ideas! so if you could help out that would be really appreciated i love you guys!! 🤍

Kenan and reader are having their first date and he embarrasses himself 😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️

❦ - first date dilemmas.

summary:: first dates don’t always go to plan. and this was a clear sign of that. whatever, you didn’t mind it though, it was cute.

warnings:: istg imma delete this warning section bc there is rarely any 💔.

writers notes:: lemme start off by saying ISTG IM NOT HALF ASSING THESE. i choose quality over quantity all the time! so obvs the fics are gonna be quite short but i promise they’re good (well atleast i like to think they are?) anyways uhm i promise ill start posting longer ones bare w me! ALSO I HAVE SM FINISHED FICS JUST IN MY DRAFTS SO ILL BE POSTING A LOT TODAY.

tags:: @barcapix @n0vazsq @httpsdana @paucubarsisimp

kenan had been hyping himself up for this date all week. he’d picked out what he thought was his best outfit, practiced conversation topics in the mirror, and even watched a couple of rom coms for pointers.

but now, sitting across from you at a cozy little restaurant, his nerves were getting the best of him. he wanted to be smooth, charming, effortlessly cool, except he was pretty sure he was failing miserably.

the first slip up came when he tried to pour you a refill from the water pitcher. in his attempt to be casual, he misjudged the angle, and water sloshed over the rim of your glass, splashing onto the table.

‘oh—’ he grabbed a napkin, trying to mop it up quickly. ‘my bad. i, uh… i promise i don’t do this all the time.’

you smiled, amused. ‘so just on first dates, then?’

he groaned, but at least you were laughing. that was a good sign, right?

things smoothed out for a bit, and he actually started to relax. conversation was flowing, and you seemed to be having a good time. but then, as he was in the middle of telling a story, he gestured a little too enthusiastically, knocking his fork right off the table.

he paused, looking down at it on the floor, then back up at you. ‘you didn’t see that.’

you grinned. ‘oh, i definitely did.’

‘cool, cool, just checking.’ he picked up the fork, set it aside, and tried to play it off like it wasn’t a big deal.

by the time dessert arrived, he just sighed and leaned back. ‘okay, i think i just need to accept i’m gonna be at least a little awkward for the rest of the night.’

you tilted your head, considering. ‘i don’t know. i think it’s kind of endearing.’

kenan blinked. ‘wait. really?’

you shrugged, smiling. ‘yeah. it’s cute.’

for the first time all night, he was actually speechless. and, for once, it wasn’t because he’d just knocked something over.

OH MY GOD

❦ - the alchemy

summary:: jamal wins bundesliga with his girl by his side.

warnings:: none!

writers note:: expect this series to be done today!! bc these are concerningly easy to write esp when you have the idea clear in your mind! i was gonna make it that he won ucl as per @hearts4musiala request but i’m a culer so that doesn’t work w me.. 😔.

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

The stadium was alive with chaos, golden confetti falling like a storm, the roar of fans echoing through the Allianz Arena. Jamal Musiala stood in the middle of it all, his hands clutching the Bundesliga trophy, the weight of it almost surreal. This moment had been everything he’d worked for, dreamed of, but somehow it felt even better because you were here.

You watched him from the sidelines, beaming, your chest swelling with pride. He’d worked so hard for this. You’d seen every late night, every self-doubt he barely let himself voice, and every time he pushed himself beyond what you thought was possible. Now, as he stood at the center of glory, you could see it in his eyes, the quiet disbelief, the golden glow of triumph.

He found you instantly in the crowd. His eyes softened in the way they always did when he looked at you, like you were the only thing grounding him in the chaos. Without thinking, you pushed through the barriers, weaving past teammates and staff who barely noticed your presence in the delirium of celebration.

When you reached him, Jamal didn’t say a word. He pulled you in, one hand still clutching the trophy while the other found your waist, holding you tightly against him. His forehead fell to yours, and for a moment, it was just the two of you, the noise of the world fading into the background.

‘You did it,’ you whispered, your voice catching.

‘We did it,’ he murmured back, his voice low and soft.

You shook your head, tears threatening to spill. ‘This was all you.’

He laughed under his breath, pressing a kiss to your temple. ‘Couldn’t have done it without you.’

You knew he meant it. The nights he’d called you after a bad game, the moments he felt the weight of the world on his shoulders; you’d been there. But this wasn’t about you. It was about him, about the magic he created every time he stepped onto the pitch.

‘Proud of you, Jam,’ you said, your voice barely audible over the noise.

His smile grew, but there was something else in his eyes, something tender and unspoken. ‘Feels like alchemy, doesn’t it?’ he said.

You blinked at him, confused.

‘All the doubt, the pain; turning it into this,’ he explained, lifting the trophy slightly. ‘It’s like gold. It’s like… us.’

Your chest ached at the way he said it. At how easily he compared this golden moment to the love you’d built together.

You kissed him then, soft and fleeting, the kind of kiss that didn’t need words. The world cheered around you, but Jamal only kissed you back, as if this was the real win of the night.

And maybe it was.