Puppy Love

hi!! maybe a mutual friends to lovers musiala fic?? like just a very normal realistic storyline yk. they start by hanging out with a group of friends and then split off a little and blah blah blah 🩷🩷

❦ - ich liebe dich.

summary:: basically the req.

warnings:: none.

writers notes:: uhm so this should’ve been posted a month ago. this has been in my drafts for a MONTH bro. i’m gonna go insane this got requested to me almost 2 months ago and i’m lowkey going insane so yes i’ll be posting almost all my drafts today bc i have SO MANY finished. also i’m ditching dividers bc it’s too much work!

tags:: @barcapix @n0vazsq @httpsdana @paucubarsisimp @universefcb @mariejuli

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the first time you met jamal musiala, he was just another face in a group of mutual friends. you’d heard his name before, knew who he was, but you had never actually spoken to him.

it was one of those casual get togethers, someone’s apartment, music playing from a speaker, people chatting in little groups, making half serious plans that never actually happened.

you weren’t even paying attention when he sat next to you.

‘so you’re the one everyone keeps talking about,’ he said, voice easy and amused.

you turned to him, raising a brow. ‘depends. what exactly are they saying?’

he smirked, leaning back. ‘good things. mostly.’

‘mostly?’ you echoed, pretending to be offended. ‘what’s the bad part, then?’

‘wouldn’t you like to know,’ he teased, eyes glinting.

and just like that, it was easy.

it started slow. natural.

he was just a friend, or at least, that was what you told yourself. but then you kept ending up next to each other. at dinner tables, in group chats, in the back of ubers on the way to places you both had been half-convinced you didn’t even want to go.

‘we keep ending up together,’ you pointed out once, laughing after realizing you’d somehow spent the entire night just talking to each other.

‘maybe it’s fate,’ he said, smiling.

‘or maybe it’s just coincidence.’

‘or,’ he countered, eyes warm, ‘you just like my company.’

you rolled your eyes, but you didn’t argue.

it didn’t feel like flirting. not in an obvious way.

but it also didn’t feel like just friendship either.

your friends picked up on it before you did.

‘so, you and jamal, huh?’ one of them asked after a night out.

you frowned. ‘what about us?’

‘oh, come on,’ they groaned. ‘you two practically spent the whole night in your own world.’

‘we were just talking.’

‘yeah, just talking while standing way too close and looking at each other like you’ve got some big secret the rest of us aren’t in on.’

you scoffed. ‘you’re imagining things.’

but were they?

the thing was, you and jamal never talked about whatever this was.

there were no confessions. no big oh, we like each other moment. just little shifts. small things that added up.

like the way he started texting you first more often.

or how he’d wait for you when you trailed behind the group.

or how he’d nudge your knee under the table, just lightly, when you made a joke he thought was particularly funny.

one night, it was just the two of you. you were coming back from a late dinner, walking through quiet streets, the rest of your friends having peeled off one by one.

‘you cold?’ jamal asked suddenly.

you shrugged. ‘a little.’

without a word, he pulled off his hoodie and handed it to you.

‘jamal—’

‘just take it,’ he said, smiling.

you hesitated for a second before slipping it over your head. it smelled like him, clean, warm, safe.

‘thanks,’ you murmured.

he looked down at you, something unreadable in his expression.

‘anytime.’

and that? that was when you knew.

it wasn’t just friendship anymore. maybe it never had been.

but for now, neither of you said anything.

you didn’t need to.

until the night he kissed you.

it wasn’t planned, wasn’t some big romantic moment.

it was after another group night out, when you and jamal had split off, walking together like always. it had started to rain, not heavy, just a soft drizzle, and you had laughed, tilting your head up at the sky.

‘this is kinda nice,’ you admitted.

jamal watched you, his hands in his pockets. ‘yeah. it is.’

you turned to him, still smiling, and that was when he did it.

just leaned in, soft and certain, catching your lips with his like it was the most natural thing in the world.

you froze for a split second before melting into it, your hands gripping the front of his jacket.

when he pulled back, his forehead rested lightly against yours.

‘so much for coincidence, huh?’ he murmured.

you let out a breathless laugh. ‘yeah. so much for that.’

at first, nothing really changed.

you still hung out in the same group, still acted like just friends, except now, there were stolen glances, fingertips brushing when no one was looking, excuses to be alone.

‘you two are acting weird,’ one of your friends finally said.

‘what? no, we’re not,’ you denied quickly.

‘you totally are,’ they insisted, pointing between you and jamal. ‘there’s something going on.’

jamal, beside you, just smirked.

‘if you say so,’ he said, casually slipping an arm around your shoulders.

and at that moment, you knew there was no point in pretending anymore.

being with jamal musiala felt easy.

it wasn’t all-consuming or dramatic. it didn’t burn out fast or make you question where you stood.

it was steady. warm. like something you had slipped into without realizing you were always meant to be there.

it was the way he texted you good morning every day, even if he had training early.

the way he always reached for your hand first, fingers threading through yours like second nature.

the way he looked at you, like you were the only thing in the room worth paying attention to.

‘you’re staring,’ you pointed out once, grinning.

jamal just shrugged. ‘can you blame me?’

the first time he told you he loved you, it was quiet. casual, almost.

you were half-asleep on his couch, curled up against his side while some movie neither of you had been paying attention to played in the background.

his fingers traced absentminded circles on your arm.

‘love you,’ he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

your eyes fluttered open, heart skipping a beat.

you shifted to look up at him. ‘what?’

jamal looked down at you, completely unbothered. ‘i said, i love you.’

your breath caught in your throat.

he didn’t seem nervous about it. didn’t seem like he was expecting some big reaction. he was just telling you. stating a fact.

and somehow, that made it even more real.

you swallowed, voice soft when you finally spoke.

‘love you too.’

his smile was slow, warm, sure.

‘figured.’

and just like that, it wasn’t just unspoken anymore.

it was real. it was everything.

Losing my mind 'cause life’s a mess and I can’t catch up on the masterpieces my queens have been posting

You got me curious do you write long fics like 8k+ ?

yessss i’ve done it in the past too but it just takes longer todo so i try to make it shorter but yes id happily do it! xx

can u do a pau fic where he’s sitting down and reader comes to stand between his legs and he puts his hands on the back of her thighs (yk the thing that guys do idk how to explain it🤣) and her hands around his neck playing with his hair. and he just looks so in love and smiley and looking up and her and just listening to her speak.

maybe it’s at team dinner or something at the camp and everyone is like awww and teasing.

❦ - your hands.

warnings:: none

writers notes:: it’s safe to say that i didn’t survive yesterday and im sat at my desk at 7am rn and i’m chugging red bull

tags:: @barcapix @n0vazsq @httpsdana @paucubarsisimp @universefcb @mariejuli @nngkay

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it’s loud in the restaurant, glasses clinking, plates being passed, laughter bouncing off every corner of the table.

but none of it really matters.

because pau’s sitting in the middle of it all, quietly zoned out, eyes only on you.

you’d gotten up to grab something off the far end of the table, weaving through teammates and chairs and banter, and somehow ended up standing right between his knees as you reached across the table.

and instead of shifting or moving back, he just rests his hands gently on the backs of your thighs. casual. warm. his.

your breath catches just a little.

you glance down at him and smile, hands instinctively finding his shoulders, then sliding up into his hair.

his hair is soft. his eyes are softer.

and god, he’s looking at you like you’re made of light.

like he’s not in the middle of a team dinner with half the squad watching.

like you’re the only sound he hears.

you start rambling about something, what someone said earlier, a joke he missed, how chaotic the other end of the table is.

and he just listens.

quiet smile on his lips. fingers still tracing slow, lazy shapes on the backs of your thighs. head tilted just slightly so he can look up at you better.

he nods at all the right moments, gives little mhm’s and amused half laughs, but mostly?

he’s just watching.

like he’s memorizing you. like he already has.

someone down the table calls his name.

he doesn’t even flinch.

you finally stop talking, a little breathless, a little shy under his stare.

‘what?’ you whisper, laughing softly. ‘why are you looking at me like that?’

he just smiles.

‘you’re the best part of my night. that’s all.’

and yeah. you feel it. all the way down to your fingertips.

ok but franco being obsessed with you (in a good way... I guess)

▪︎ franco, who fell for you the moment he saw you. when his eyes fell on you for the first time, he was ready to kill and die for you.

▪︎ you, with your beautiful face and gorgeous body. he doesn't see imperfections, he doesn't care. everything about you is so... perfect.

▪︎ franco, who stares at you with eyes full of love, they always shine when he's looking at you. he observes every detail; from your hair, its texture, to your nails. he loves your skin, how soft it feels under his fingertips; he also loves your voice and how it sounds when you say his name.

▪︎ franco, who loves cuddling with you whenever he has the chance. he loves that, every single time, you smile and take him in your arms, your perfume on his clothes, on his skin.

▪︎ franco, who loves talking about you with other people. he loves to tell them how amazing you are, how smart, sweet and loving. how his life is so much better since you said yes when he asked you to be his girlfriend.

▪︎ franco, who has tears in his eyes every time you look at him and tell him that he's the prettiest boy ever and that he's also the best thing life has given you.

▪︎ franco, who doesn't want to pressure you but he's already imagining an entire life with you.

▪︎ franco, who loves you so much that sometimes he thinks he will stop breathing. and there are also days in which he thinks that the love he has for you is a thousand times bigger than the love you have for him. but he doesn't care... he has enough love for the both of you.

▪︎ franco, who doesn't see that you love him as much. that he doesn't need to hold you oh so tightly, that you aren't going anywhere, that you want an entire life by his side too.

▪︎ franco, who is so obsessed with you that he can't see that you definitely feel the same for him.

UGHH the things this man makes me wanna do is soooo i just wanna bite his hands bro THOSE VEINNNSSS OMDSSSS🥴🥴

I want him to look at me like that bro like stawppp😝😝🤪

so this is for all the people on my general taglist bc i’ve gotten rq for f1 fics and i need yall to lmk if you want to be added to that also lmk even if ur not on there @barcapix @n0vazsq @httpsdana @paucubarsisimp @universefcb @mariejuli

can you make one with Guille Fernandez again, where the reader is Hector Fort's little sister

fluff

❦ - hermanita.

summary:: what the req says.

warnings:: none?

writers notes:: istg on all upcoming fics, unless the req doesn’t explain what it is/i have free will, im gonna remove the summary section

tags:: @barcapix @n0vazsq @paucubarsisimp @httpsdana @universefcb @nngkay @mariejuli

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he knew from the beginning.

not because you told him, but because he’s your brother.

hector sees everything.

he noticed the way guille looked at you one afternoon in the kitchen, like he’d never seen anyone laugh so easily.
he noticed how you always sat beside guille on the couch now. how your voice changed when you said his name.
he noticed the lingering silence between you two when he walked into the room, like the air had shifted and neither of you had learned how to play it cool yet.

so one day he just… said it.

‘if you’re gonna date her, tell me. don’t be a coward about it.’

you and guille had frozen at the same time, like kids caught stealing candy.

but then guille stood up, cleared his throat, and said

‘i care about her. i wouldn’t touch her heart if i wasn’t serious about it.’

hector stared at him for a long second.
then shrugged.

‘don’t break her. that’s all.’

it wasn’t easy after that, but it was open.

no more hiding glances. no more awkward silences.

guille would text you mid-training with a ‘miss you already’ and hector would just roll his eyes.
guille would come over and sit next to you on the floor, and your brother would say something like ‘you have your own house, fernández.’
but it was light. teasing. tolerable.

because deep down, hector trusted him.

he’d known guille since they were kids.
shared locker rooms and long bus rides.
he knew what kind of man he was becoming.

and even if it drove him crazy to see you holding hands with his best friend, he knew you were safe.

one night, guille walked you home after a quiet dinner out. he held your hand the whole way.

when you reached the door, he looked at you for a long second before saying,
‘do you ever wish it was someone else?’

you frowned. ‘what?’

‘someone who wasn’t your brother’s best friend. someone easier. less complicated.’

you didn’t even hesitate.

‘never. i don’t care how complicated it is. it’s you. it’s always been you.’

and guille kissed you, soft and grateful, like he still couldn’t believe he got to have you, out in the open, without having to pretend.

inside, hector watched you both through the window.
sighed.

then muttered to himself

‘you better marry her.’

Hiii!!! I love your João fics smmm 💖💖 and I got some inspiration from the Gavi x tennis player! Reader, I was wondering if I can make a request for a similar one with joão but instead of the reader being tennis player, could it be volleyball player?

So basically joão decides to attend his girlfriends (reader) game since he had a day off-and reader is a libero where she always haves to defend and always having to jump onto the floor to defend the ball from hitting the floor.

How about the opponents spiker hits the ball slightly farther away but she stills needs to catch the ball to throw it back to her teammates to manage to get a point for them but she accidentally crashes into like the court banners or maybe a table surrounding the volleyball court and like joão is scared and worried for his gf but at the end she was fine and just a sprain wrist and ankle? And he's lowk overprotective after the game

Hopefully the plot makes sense for you😭

❦ - in a good way.

summary:: what the req says.

warnings:: i wrote this half asleep

writers notes:: i should sleep. but i love yall and watch as i drop this and then disappear for a week 💔.

tags:: @barcapix @n0vazsq @httpsdana @paucubarsisimp @universefcb @mariejuli

joão wasn’t supposed to be here.

his schedule was packed, as always, but for once, fate had given him a rare day off. and the moment he realized it lined up perfectly with one of your games, there was no question, he was going.

so here he was, sitting courtside, cap pulled low over his head, completely locked in on the match.

he’d seen you play before, of course. he knew how talented you were, how much work you put into your game. but watching you in person? feeling the energy of the match, hearing the squeak of your shoes on the court, seeing you throw yourself into every single play, it was different.

it was exhilarating. and terrifying.

because as a libero, you never stopped moving. you were constantly sprinting, diving, launching yourself across the floor to save impossible balls. every time you hit the ground, joão flinched. every time you threw your body in harm’s way, his heart nearly stopped.

‘does she always do that?’ he muttered to one of your teammates who was sitting on the bench.

she barely looked up from watching the game. ‘she’s a libero. she kinda has to.’

joão frowned. he knew that. logically, he understood that this was your job, just like football was his. but that didn’t mean he had to like watching you hit the floor over and over again.

but then, the match got even more intense.

it was the final set, tied at 24-24. one team had to win by two, and everyone was playing like their lives depended on it.

joão watched as the opposing team’s outside hitter, easily the tallest girl on the court, jumped up for a brutal spike, aiming for the back corner.

and then he saw you move.

you were already sprinting before the ball even made contact.

his stomach twisted. he knew that look in your eyes.

you weren’t going to let it drop.

and you didn’t.

you dove, arms outstretched, fingers grazing the ball just in time to send it flying back toward your teammates.

but the momentum carried you too far.

instead of landing safely on the floor, you crashed straight into the court barriers.

joão shot to his feet, his heart slamming against his ribs.

the sound of your body hitting the plastic barricades and knocking over a small table made his stomach churn. you hit the floor hard, and for a second, you didn’t move.

his entire body went cold.

the gym fell silent.

then, before he could even process what was happening, your teammates were surrounding you, the medical staff rushing over.

joão’s hands clenched at his sides as he forced himself to stay where he was. he wanted nothing more than to run onto the court, to push past everyone and check on you himself. but he wasn’t allowed to.

he held his breath, waiting, his pulse hammering in his ears.

and then

you sat up.

joão exhaled so sharply it almost felt like he’d been holding his breath for hours.

the relief that crashed over him was instant, but it didn’t completely settle until he saw you carefully flex your fingers, rolling your wrist with a slight wince.

a sprain. maybe your ankle too, judging by the way you hesitated when your teammates helped you up.

but you were okay.

and despite everything, despite the fact that you had just thrown yourself straight into a table, your team managed to win the point.

and then the game.

but joão didn’t care about the score. not really. the only thing he cared about was getting to you.

so the second the final whistle blew, he was moving.

he pushed past the crowd, barely hearing the people congratulating him on his own recent games, barely acknowledging the fans who recognized him.

all he could focus on was you.

you were sitting on the bench, your ankle wrapped, your wrist wrapped, casually chatting with your coach like you hadn’t just nearly given him a heart attack.

‘what the hell was that?’ he blurted out, startling you slightly.

your head snapped up, eyes widening in surprise. ‘joão—’

‘why would you even go for that ball?’ he continued, running a hand through his hair, clearly still panicked. ‘you could’ve been seriously hurt!’

you blinked at him, processing his words before a small, amused smile tugged at your lips. ‘we won the point, didn’t we?’

he stared at you like you were insane. ‘winning isn’t worth getting hurt.’

you sighed, shaking your head fondly before reaching out with your good hand, grabbing the front of his hoodie and tugging him closer. ‘it is to me.’

he exhaled sharply, but he didn’t pull away. instead, he let himself sink down in front of you, his hands hovering like he wanted to touch you but was afraid of making anything worse.

‘you’re impossible,’ he muttered, his voice softer now, but still frustrated.

‘you love me.’

he sighed, dropping his forehead against your uninjured shoulder. ‘unfortunately for me, yeah.’

you laughed, wrapping your arm around him and pressing a kiss to the side of his head. ‘i’m fine, joão.’

‘you have a sprained wrist and ankle,’ he grumbled.

‘but i’m okay,’ you reassured him, squeezing his hoodie gently.

he pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes scanning your face, like he needed to make sure you were really telling the truth.

then, after a beat, he exhaled and stood up.

‘okay. come on.’

before you could react, he scooped you up into his arms.

you yelped, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. ‘joão!’

‘nope. you’re not walking on that ankle,’ he said firmly, adjusting you so you were comfortably nestled against his chest. ‘i’ve decided you’re not allowed to move at all until you’re healed.’

you huffed, crossing your arms. ‘you’re being ridiculous.’

‘you’re reckless,’ he shot back, pressing a kiss to your forehead. ‘but lucky for you, i love you anyway.’

you sighed dramatically, but you couldn’t help the way your heart melted when he tightened his arms around you.

‘guess i should get injured more often,’ you teased.

he shot you a warning look. ‘don’t even joke about that.’

you grinned, resting your head against his shoulder.

maybe he was being overprotective. maybe he was being dramatic.

but you weren’t complaining.

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.