❦ - Vroom Vroom.

All I Want - (João Felix) Sweetmas

Warnings- FLUFF, Christmas love, puppy lovers only

“João! Wake up!” You yelled, jumping up and down on yours and your boyfriend’s shared bed. “Huh? Wha-“ Before he could finish his sentence, you kissed him. “Morning, baby. It’s Christmas.” He smiled and nodded “I have something for you… I think you’ll like.” Your smile widens to a grin, jumping off of the bed, “Lead the way!” He chuckled and got out of bed, throwing a shirt on and fixing his hair. “Let’s go.” He grabbed your hand, leading you through the silent house into the living room. “See that box?” There was a big box with a big, red bow. “Yeah?” He smiled and nudged you towards the tree, “Open it.” You giggled and walked over to the tree, looking back at João before crouching down and slowly unwrapping the bow around the box. You slowly lifted the lid, revealing a golden, small figure. It jumped out of the box, that’s when you realized- “IT’S A PUPPY!” He laughed and nodded, smiling so bright and sitting on the couch. “João! You got me a puppy?!” You exclaimed, petting the puppy on your lap. “A golden retriever.” He said, sitting on the floor next to you, “You like it?” You nodded in response, kissing his cheek. “Your too sweet.” He chuckled and brushed some hair out of your face, “Only for you, amore.” He sighed, placing a kiss on your forehead. “I love you.” You said, holding his face. “I love you too. You make Christmas so much more better.” And that was THE best Christmas that you two ever had. You, João, and your new baby.

OH MY GOD DIOS MIOS 🇪🇸🇪🇸🇪🇸

you never fail bro dafuk i wish to have ur talent omds what on earth

Pedri supporting his girlfriend who plays for Barca femeni after she gets hurt at her game?

✮ The Real Winner - Pedri González

pedri gonzalez x barçafemeni!reader

sy: after a sustained head injury, all you need is the comfort (and slight lesson) from your boyfriend to ease you back to normal.

a/n: i did this as a more realistic approach and added our current female players as teammates & i probably yapped too much for this but still (i need to make my fics longer)

⚠️ i have literally only just come across a similar fic to what ive written, but genuinely ive had this in my drafts for around a week now, but still had to finish off the end. so please, there is no copyright intended as i wrote this before the other authors fic, but no communication was present & i wasn’t going to scrap this all away after spending so long writing.

warnings: not really .

“hmph!”

being fouled—again.

after being hurled to the curb by madrid’s opposing player, you swiftly bounce back onto the heels of your feet.

your socks had been rolled down to yours ankles in uneven lengths, your shin pads slipping from their placed position and your jersey covered in dirt and dust.

“c’mon ref, your not gonna call that?!” aitana calls out, whilst alexia—team captain—rushes over to complain.

vicky rushes over to you, with a disconcerting look. “¿oye estas bien? you took a pretty nasty fall there.” (are you okay?).

“yes—yeah im fine,” you grumble hoarsely, narrowing your eyes at the madrid players on the other side of the pitch that were pointing fingers and snickering in your direction.

she gives you a pat on the back, as the ref blows the whistle. you snap your head around, and he’s holding up a yellow card.

“en serio?!” alexia protests, “all im saying is that you made a mistake!”

with a huff, the blonde struts off towards you and vicky, pushing her slidden armband higher up her arm.

“yellow card huh?” vicky says, shaking her head. putellas tuts, hollering to the remainder of your team over.

“i swear they don’t even try to hide the bias, it happens every single game,” kiera argues, jogging over as they all nod in agreement.

salma shuffles in closer, encouraging a group huddle. “look we aren’t going to win this by complaining—we need a strategy.”

“sí but what? they’re brutal tonight sal,” aitana replies. “we’ve tried every strategy in the book so far, and y/ns injured.”

they all glance over to you, their star striker, covered head to toe in cuts and bruises. not to mention, the amount of grass’ turf that clung to your skin was intolerable.

“i’m not injured,” you say firmly, knotting your brows in defence despite the unbearable sting creeping up your ankle.

your teammates don’t look convinced, but they don’t push further. the referee is already growing impatient, gesturing for the game to continue.

alexia claps her hands, “alright team, ten coraje.”

you all disburse, as you limp your way back to your position. to be honest, your ankle was throbbing and with every step it felt like your bone could crack.

everyone’s back in their places, as the whistle blows again. your quick to sprint in impulse, but as soon as you do, you wince in pain.

“joder,” you curse, watching as the ball slips away from you, and to the madrid forward.

your vision wavers as you try to recover, but the pain shoots up to your leg. you swiftly glance at your teammates for help, but they’re all too focused on the game to notice.

unbeknownst to you, pedri is up in the stands—silent and worried. he’s accompanied by ferran and gavi, who equally have the most bewildered expressions too.

“i know this story,” ferran interrupts quietly, “and it doesn’t end well.”

pedri doesn’t say anything, but instead his eyes are fixed on you, with your slow and painful movements. he’s noticed how sluggish you’ve become since the last hit, and even though you tried to look sharper, it wasn’t possible.

“she needs to ask to get subbed off or something. this isn’t doing her or the team any good.” gavi slices through the deafening silence, who’s on the edge of his seat.

it’s true. since the whistle blew, you had lost the ball a good three times, which you could of easily intercepted or won back.

“she won’t,” pedri finally speaks. “she’s too stubborn for that, even if it’s breaking her.”

“y/n! get your head in the game!” hansen orders, giving you a harsh nudge. “we can’t afford to lose this game because you cant focus.”

“i’m trying okay? but my ankle just—”

“you told us you weren’t injured.” she shrugs, running over to the midfield where the hustle was.

unfortunately, she was right but you were too stubborn to confess, but besides there’s no chance you could give up now.

you sigh, rubbing the sweat from your forehead with the back of your arm. you didn’t want to admit it but you were costing them the game; after failed promises you couldn’t live up to.

minutes pass by and you find yourself on your rivals side of the pitch, with the ball close to madrids net, and you find this as a perfect opportunity to shoot it into the goal.

with a sharpe exhale, you push every ounce of power you still have into a jump, as you watch the ball loft into the air.

as you jump, ready to head straight into the net—

—so does madrids defender.

your heads collide mid-air, a stark snap ringing throughout your ears before a wave of pain explodes across your skull.

everything happens so fast. the world tilts and spins and before you know it, your plunged into darkness.

the impact sends you pelting down onto the pitch, rolling onto your side with a loud groan.

the entirety of your vision blurs, a shrill ringing noise overwhelming all of your senses that make you clutch your forehead in pain.

the referee—for once—makes a sensible decision and immediately blows the whistle as your teammates sprint their way over.

each one of them have worry painted all over their faces, trying try their best to comfort you.

“shit—y/n, you shouldn’t of done that,” kiera’s the first to speak, cutting through the haze. but all you can manage is a grunt in response.

“move, move, give her space.” alexia instructs, dropping to her knees besides you.

“i don’t need help,” you mutter, attempting to sit up but failing when another sneer throb shoots through your skull. “it was just a small blow.”

“nada, nada.. you need to get checked out,” vicky says firmly. she also kneels down to the floor, keeping her hand on shoulder to keep you down.

in the stands, pedri continues watching in horror, his hands curled into fists from the first second of contact.

“what’s going on? i can’t see,” pablo nudges ferran for an answer.

“maybe it’s because you’re too short,” ferran snorts and begins laughing. gavi scoffs theatrically, giving the man a forceful push.

pedri shoots them both daggers, clearly not amused. “now’s not the time for jokes hermano.”

“right, sorry,” they both nod and look back to the pitch. from their view, all they can see is that your laying flat on the floor whilst the rest of barça femení are surrounding you.

back on the pitch, the medics are already making their way over but your still trying to argue your case.

you sigh for the third time, “honestly, i’m fine—i can keep playing hermana.”

“this won’t prove that your any tougher,” aitana declares, with an innocence to her tone. “we already know you are, stop fighting it y/n.”

your lips part in objection, until a second pulse of ache pierces through your skull, making you sway.

the medics already have cloths to your temple, thermometers down your throat and pills in their grasps. but once the thermometer beeps, the decisions made.

“that’s it your coming off,” one announces, helping you to your feet. alexia and vicky also help you up, giving you small hugs for support.

salma gives you a kiss of encouragement to your head as your guided off, your head still heavy.

the crowd roars with fury, and you can feel the puncture of the fans’ eyes analysing every single twitch of movement you made.

. . .

the medics room is cold, eerie and in general not a place you’d like to be in. the fan above was moving slowly, almost painfully.

you were lying on the examination table, blinking slowly as you tried to adjust to the light; every sound echoed in your head like its bouncing off cave walls.

“keep your head still please,” the doctor instructs, shining a dainty flashlight into your eyes.

you wince, groaning at the intensity. “ugh do i have to?”

“yes.” he deadpans, moving to the other eye. “you’ve got a grade two concussion, and a potential ankle sprain.”

“what does that mean?” you ask him seriously, as your brain still hasn’t caught up to speed.

“it’s nothing too dangerous. you will just require plenty of rest, and unfortunately, you will miss quite a few m—”

he’s about to continue when he’s interrupted by a loud opening burst of the door. “y/n!”

pedri’s voice makes you finally twist, as he’s at your side within seconds. his hands straightaway reach for your own, warm against your cold fingers.

“what the hell was that?” he demands, his brows furrowed in deep concern. “you could of cracked your skull open and you still wanted to keep playing?”

his tone is sharp, but his touch is gentle even as they cup your face, evenly smoothing over your clammy forehead.

you blink up at him, struggling to focus.

“since when have there been two of you amore?” you ask, completely disregarding his question.

pedri’s frown deepens. “yeah your definitely concussed.”

your smile is lazy and carefree, poking his cheek when he turns to the doctor in ambition for your medical results.

“you’re cute when your angry,” you giggle, your mindset with him a polar opposite of before. your boyfriend doesn’t answer you, so you insist.

“pedrii,” you whine, pulling on the strings of his hoodie to pull him closer. “aren’t you listening to me?”

he snaps out of conversation with the doctor abruptly, his face now so close to yours that you can feel the tickle of his breath. “sí carino, i’m listening.”

“what did i just say then?” you grouse, annoyed.

he hums, obviously not having the briefest idea of what you actually said. “something about the lights?”

“no silly, i said, you’re cute when your angry.”

pedri sighs, “this isn’t funny y/n, you could of gotten seriously hurt.”

“kind of is,” you mumble, the corner of your mouth curving into a vague smile. “your all worked up over me.”

“yeah and earn myself a heart attack,” he lets out with a small chuckle, giving a quick peck to the tip of your nose.

his hands shift up to cradle your jaw, his thumbs brushing delicately over your cheekbones. “you genuinely did scare the shit out of me though,” he admits, his tone softer now. “please never do that to me again.”

“ill try,” you say flatly, shrugging your shoulders.

“no you won’t try, you will.” he corrects, sweeping lost hairs from your face. “i’m never letting you do that to me again.”

“threatening me isn’t going to work pedro,” you snort airly.

“if i say that i won’t let you kiss me until you stop being so reckless, then will it work?” he counters, with a smug smirk.

your eyes widen slightly, “you wouldn’t.”

pedri tilts his head, his smile unwavering. “try me.”

you dramatically sigh, but continue fidgeting with the strings of his hoodie. “that’s so cruel, especially when i’m hurt.”

“call it what you want amor,” he grins, “but if it stops you from terrifying the hell out of me then i’ll do it.”

you huff, looking away, but pedri isn’t having it. he leans in, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple, right where the impact was worst. then another, softer this time. and another. his lips trail over every tender spot—your forehead, the side of your head, down to your cheek, as if his kisses alone could erase the pain.

“promise me that you’ll be more careful,” he murmurs between kisses. “please.”

even though you weren’t fully reassured of yourself, rather you simply forget or don’t entirely listen, you do owe him a favour.

for everything.

“i promise,” you whisper, voice small.

pedri still doesn’t look fully convinced, but he holds you tighter anyway, his lips pressing against your hair one more time—one final reminder that, no matter what, he’d always be there to put you back together.

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.

no but where’s dorothea @barcapix

nothing scarier than being a fan of a fic and then becoming mutuals with the author. like hi shakespeare. big fan of your fake dating au

Hector fort taking care of reader who had her period unprepared and is embarrassed about it cuz her ex used to get mad at her for it?

Maybe?

Perhaps?

(Idk how to request if you didn’t notice already 😭)

❦ - unexpected but never a problem.

summary:: what the req says.

warnings:: nooooone? cussing i think…?

writers notes:: i love you anon you’re so cute i saw it and instantly wrote it you’re adorable! anyways im not very good w requests so i really dunno if this is what you wanted but i hope u love it nonetheless? gimme feedback yg i beg 💔. ALSO I HAVE NO JOAO REQUESTS GIMME SOME PLSSS

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

you realize it too late.

the uncomfortable dampness, the slight cramping you brushed off earlier, the way hector’s hoodie, his favorite one, now feels impossibly heavy around your waist as you tie it there in a desperate attempt to hide the evidence.

you should have known. you should have been prepared. but your cycle has always been unpredictable, and with how distracted you’ve been lately, school, work, trying not to fall too hard for the boy currently walking beside you - you weren’t paying attention.

now, you’re hyperaware. of every step you take, of every shift in fabric, of how you can feel it, and god, you don’t even want to check. you don’t want to know how bad it is.

but the worst part? you know what happens next.

or, at least, you think you do.

‘you good?’ hector asks, nudging your shoulder gently.

his voice is casual, light, but you can hear the underlying concern. you’re usually more talkative, always teasing him about something, and now you’re barely saying a word.

you swallow hard. ‘yeah. just… tired.’

he doesn’t look convinced. he studies you for a second, his gaze flicking to the hoodie tied around your waist.

then he stops walking.

‘okay, what’s wrong?’

your stomach twists. ‘nothing, hector, i just..’

‘nah, you’re acting weird. did something happen?’

the worry in his voice only makes the knot in your throat worse. but what are you supposed to say? hey, i just bled through my clothes, and i’m freaking out because my ex used to act like it was the worst thing in the world whenever this happened?

your silence lasts a second too long.

hector frowns. then his eyes flick down again, just for a second, before realization dawns on his face.

your heart pounds.

this is it. this is where he pulls back, where he sighs in frustration, where he makes some offhand comment about how you should’ve planned better. you brace for it, already shrinking into yourself, already fighting back the burning embarrassment

but then he’s shrugging off his jacket.

before you can react, he steps closer, wrapping it securely around your waist, completely covering the hoodie. he makes quick work of tying the sleeves, knotting them tight like it’s second nature.

your breath catches.

‘there,’ he says easily, tugging once to make sure it’s secure. ‘you wanna go home?’

you blink. ‘…what?’

he gives you a look. ‘you’re clearly not comfortable. we can dip.’

he’s not mad. he’s not annoyed.

he’s just helping.

you stare at him, your chest tight, emotions tangling together too fast for you to process.

‘you don’t have to do all that,’ you mumble.

he shrugs like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. ‘why wouldn’t i?’

you hesitate, fingers gripping the edge of the jacket now wrapped around you. ‘because it’s gross.’

his brow furrows. ‘who told you that?’

you freeze.

you don’t mean to react, but the words hit you like a gut punch. because you know who told you that. over and over again, in every careless remark, every sigh, every time he made you feel like something you couldn’t control was your fault.

and hector sees it.

he exhales, dragging a hand down his face, before looking at you again, softer this time.

‘listen, i don’t know who made you feel bad about this, but that’s bullshit. it’s not gross, it’s not your fault, and you sure as hell don’t need to be embarrassed about it.’ he shakes his head, muttering, ‘like, how do you even get mad at someone for having a body? that’s insane.’

you let out a breathy laugh, small, but real.

hector smirks. ‘there she is.’

you roll your eyes, but the knot in your chest loosens. ‘you’re stupid.’

‘nah, i just have common sense.’ he reaches for your hand, lacing his fingers through yours like it’s the easiest thing in the world. ‘now, c’mon. let’s get you home.’

you don’t argue. you just squeeze his hand, let yourself lean into the warmth of him, and for the first time in a long time, you don’t feel ashamed.

4th times the charm (atp i’m js saying anything) gavi gets transported to morocco for a game, BUT while he’s there thru the shops he sees this BEAUTIFUL moroccan princess and they fall in love 😻🙏

❦ - stadium lights in casablancan nights

summary: gavi is called for international duty against morocco and finds love in the stands.

warnings: none!! however there’s a slight plot chance that was dmed to me afterwards xx

writers note: i love this idea and don’t ‘4th times the charm’ me mate your last 3 requests were diabolical?? who would read culpa mia but w gavi and snow white but gavis the princess?? 😭😭 also did someone say overwriting 😱

word count: 2k

The overwhelming roar of the crowd in Casablanca’s Mohammed V Stadium was quite deafening, but that made gavis pulse raise even more. His heart raced not because of nerves, but for the fact that he wants to prove himself. Back in the world cup 2022 he scored a goal against costa rica that showed that he wasn’t just another kid from la masia, he was truly a star. However, a few matches later his first world cup dream came to a crash. Round of 16 vs morocco.

As the anthems faded to an end and the refs whistle blew, he jogged into place and let the game get into its usual rhythm, clear chances, passes, tackles and fouls. And there it was. a goal! Perfect goal may i add by lamine yamal. The stadium erupted into cheers as gavi made his way to the corner flag to celebrate with his teammate, not only internationally but from his club that’s always been by his side.

However, this wasn’t just a normal celebration, something pulled his gaze upwards, and that’s when he saw it, her. Throughout the wave of opposing fans, one face stood out to him, a gorgeous girl, hands gripping the railing with her jaw dropped. It was obvious she wasn’t cheering for spain though, her kit and flag proved that inference. Yet her gaze found his, holding it for longer than it should’ve.

Eventually, half time pulled around as gavi made his way to the locker room. But that didn’t stop him from looking for her though. She hadn’t moved from that spot, instead she was stood up, laughing with her friends leaning against that very same railing, but her focus wasn’t on her friends. Her gaze was on the pitch, as if she was looking for something, making gavi wonder if it’s him that she’s looking for.

Pedri, who was standing right next to him, nudged him and said, ‘Focus hermano, she’s way out of your league.’, in a teasing tone, making gavi smirk but no response came out of him. He knew this wasn’t the last time their paths would cross.

The final whistle blew, the score ending in a 2-1 narrow victory to Spain, with players exchanging handshakes and shirts. Even though they had a successful match, that didn’t shift his mind from the mystery girl, his eyes shifting to her every couple of minutes.

After plucking up the courage to approach her, he noticed her still laughing with her friends, her smile lighting him up.

Without giving it a second thought, he jumped over the barrier, passing security and approached her. Some may call him cocky for the confidence but she noticed and found it amusing that he tried to get her attention. Although security refused to let him get any closer, he ushered her to come closer, and she complied, with her friends teasing her.

‘Hola, did you enjoy the match?’, he asked in almost a whisper to avoid attention from others.

She tilted her head, and her lips formed into a smile, laughing to herself and replied with, ‘Even though Spain won? I guess so’ she said in a playful tone, with her soft accent coming out.

They exchanged names however it caught Gavi off guard.

‘Wait you don’t know my name?’ asked Gavi in an almost concerned tone.

‘No, I know your name.. I just wanted to hear you say it.’ she said, her soft smile widening.

‘Gavi’ he said, chuckling, in a quiet voice.

Her friends called her from behind and she glanced back, reluctant to leave. ‘Looks like I have to go..’ she said.

‘Wait.’ Gavi said quickly, removing his shirt, and handed it to her, the faint smell of grass clinging to it. ‘Something to remember this match by.’

She took the shirt, her fingers brushing his for a small second, ‘Gracias, Gavira.’ she said, making his heart race.

There was one thing he knew for certain, he had to see her again.

The next few days in Casablanca was an absolute blur for him, media videos, training sessions and team meeting, but she couldn’t get out of his mind. Her smile, her laugh and how her gaze lasted for longer than even she wanted it to.

That’s when he realised, it wasn’t the match, it was her.

After hours of practice, the team had some downtime before their flight back to Madrid. Gavi found himself roaming the streets with Pedri, just so he didn’t seem like a loner.

‘So you’re really attached to this girl, hermano?’, asked Pedri almost with genuine concern.

Gavi sighed and yet again, didn’t have a reply for that and continued walking.

That’s when he saw her, for the second time, except she was alone in a small cafe.

He hesitated for a moment, Pedri staying outside, as Gavi made his way over.

‘Mind if i join?’ he asked, grabbing a chair from a nearby table.

She looked up, surprised as a smile was spread across her face. ‘Gavi’ she said ‘How come you’re not with your team?’

‘I mean, I was..’ he said, taking a seat opposite her. ‘But I figured i’d explore some more. Seems like I found the right place’

She raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. ‘So you spend your free time chasing random girls that you see during matches?’

He smirked, leaning back into the chair, ‘Only the interesting ones.’

She laughed softly, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the edges of her teacup. ‘Not sure if that’s flattering or too forward’

Gavi’s smile softened, ‘A bit of both, cariño.’

‘Well i’ve seen you play, you’re good. But i’m sure you know that by now.’

He chuckled, ‘I don’t need compliments, but i’ll take them’

She smiled again, ‘So what’s a footballer like you doing in this small cafe in Casablanca?’

He looked out the window for a second, and then back at her, ‘I guess i’m looking for things that matter besides football’

Her gaze softened, ‘And have you found that yet?’

‘I’m getting closer.’ he paused, ‘Listen, I don’t know how long i’m gonna be here, but I want to see you again’

Unsure of how to really respond to that, she said ‘Maybe. If you’re lucky.’ in a mysterious tone.

And that’s when he knew he wouldn’t be leaving this city any time soon.

Due to the weather in Spain, their trip extended a few more days, but she didn’t need to know that.

On the last night of their stay, Gavi slipped away from the hotel and didn’t tell anyone, not even Pedri that he was going back to that very same cafe.

The night air was cooler than he expected but the night life still stayed active.

It wasn’t that long until he saw the cafe again, although it was late, it was still open and a few people were still in there.

He hesitated for a moment before entering again and the owner looked up at him and said,

‘Gavi, right? You’re here for someone I figured, and if so you’re in the right place, habibi.’

Gavi, uncertain by her words, followed her over to the table, where he saw here for the third time.

He sat opposite her, letting his eyes linger on her for a second before she broke the silence.

‘Gavi, I thought you wouldn’t turn up.’, she said, following with the familiar smile that Gavi loved.

‘I couldn’t stay away.’ he replied

And to that she chuckled and said, ‘You’re a lot more complicated than i thought Pablo.’

He grinned, trying to hide his emotions, leaning back into his chair, ‘I’ve been told.’

She stood up and said, ‘Listen Gavi, it’s getting late, I need to get going, and you should too.’

‘Wait,’ Gavi said ‘Can you please see me play again.’, he asked in an almost pleading tone.

She looked back, with an unreadable expression and said, ‘And you think i’ll say yes?’

‘I was hoping that you’ll surprise me.’

‘Maybe.’

And with that, she left.

A few weeks passed by, and the memory of you lingered in his brain. He hadn’t seen her since that night in the cafe, but your time together was the only thing on his mind.

Now he was in the Montjuïc, at a home game for laliga, as the stadium was packed with culers from all over the world as usual. But this match felt different.

As the game kicked off, Gavi instantly fell into the usual match rhythm yet his thought remained on her.

There was a small pause in play, as he re adjusted his socks, someone caught his eye. It was her.

There she was, in the VIP section, her barca scarf tucked around her shoulders.

He froze for a second, his heart hammering in his chest. She was no longer a memory, she was there in real time. Eventually, he snapped back into focus.

The scoreline was 1-1 and he knew that he needed to be the change that he wanted to see, so he took a risk and shot it in the direction of the net, bracing himself for the result. And there it was, a goal to put barca in the lead.

Pablo sprinted to the corner to celebrate and he looked up to see her in the stands with her hands over her mouth in shock. Then she smiled, her face full of pride. He noticed that, and made a small gesture, pointing towards her.

After the match was over, he saw her waiting with security by the players exit.

‘You made that goal look easy’ she said, her voice with a teasing tilt.

Before he could answer that, he had a question in his head.

‘You came all this way, why?’ He said, his eyes searching for hers.

‘I wanted to see if you’d keep your promise’

‘And did I?’

‘Yes.’ she replied with a subtle smile.

It had gotten to the point where they finally exchanged numbers, making his heart flutter.

The next laliga match was against sociedad which was quite a big match if you think about it. He had just completed his pre game superstitions until he received a message

‘i heard you’re not as bad as they say, wanna prove it? 😉’

He grinned, feeling a rush of excitement.

‘i thought i already did that’ he typed back.

‘okay, meet me at the cafe tomorrow.’

He arrived at the cafe as soon as the match was over and he was lost in thought. What were they? He knew they weren’t a fling but he didn’t know what to label it.

‘You’re early’ she said as she walked in.

‘Came as soon as the match ended’ he replied.

‘Okay Pablo, i’m gonna start off with why i asked you to come here. You’re the first guy who’s come into my life with a smile and a promise. But i’m not interested in that.’ she started.

He leaned in, ‘What’re you interested in then.’

‘Something real.’

‘So am I, and i’m not going anywhere.’

‘So prove it.’

And with those three words, the barrier between them was broken.

They went for a walk on the quiet streets of Barcelona, the night air brushing their faces. Neither of them spoke but the silence was enough for the both of them.

He turned to face her, ‘Listen. I don’t want you to go, just stay.’

She looked back at him and said, ‘Gavi.’

He didn’t let her continue because he felt like he already knew the answer to that and closed the gap between them.

Eventually, she found her way into extending her stay and renting an apartment in Barcelona to stay wiyh Gavi

Months past until they decided to make it official to the public, they both figured it out, the fame and distance.

One evening, they both sat on the balcony until he turned to face her.

‘So this is what i’ve been looking for. I’ve finally found what matters besides football.’ Gavi said.

She smiled back at him, realising that this is all she wanted too.

You’re mine-Joao Felix

Request: yes!

It's a sunny day, and the two of you are sitting in the park, just like always, talking about everything and nothing. João looks at you with a smile that seems too sweet, too full of emotions he's no longer able to hide. You've known each other for years, but lately, there's a strange tension that you can't ignore. It's not like before, when everything seemed simple between you two. Now, every time you talk about your boyfriend, you notice a slight tinge of jealousy in his eyes.

"So, how is he?" João asks, his tone a little too cold to be casual. His eyes drop for a moment, then look back at you, fixed on you.

"Yeah, he's doing well. We made plans for tonight," you answer, trying to sound natural, but you immediately notice how João shifts in his spot, as if the idea of you spending time with someone else is burning him inside.

"It seems like things are going well, huh?" João says, but there's something in his voice that you can't quite decipher. His hand absently brushes the grass, and his gaze drifts off into the distance.

"We're getting along, yeah," you reply, trying to keep your tone neutral. But when you meet his eyes, there's something strange in them, a mix of affection and something that makes your chest tighten.

"Well," João starts, trying to downplay it, but his smile is tense, "you should be happy with him. You're a special person, Y/N. You deserve nothing less."

Your mind is confused. What is he trying to say? There's something João hasn't told you, something that now seems clear between the lines. In another moment, you would have ignored his tension, but today you can't. His voice sounds different, as if he's trying to mask his pain behind an apparent kindness.

"João, is something wrong?" you ask, trying to figure out what's behind his behavior. He smiles weakly, but his eyes don't lie.

"Nothing's wrong," he quickly responds, but his gaze betrays a truth he doesn't want to admit. The tension between you two grows, palpable, like a storm approaching.

"Are you sure?" you insist, feeling the need to understand. João pauses for a moment, then moves a little closer, as if he wants to say something, but then stops again, unsure.

"Y/N," he starts slowly, "I've always wanted the best for you, and I know you've found it with him. But..." he pauses, his breath shortening. "It hurts to see you with someone else. I don't know how to tell you, but... it's not easy for me."

The world around you seems to freeze as those words pierce your heart. You don't know how to respond, because something inside you, something you hadn't noticed before, has awakened. Your friendship with João has always been a constant, but now there are emotions that go beyond simple friendship.

You move closer to him and caress his cheek. João's gaze flutters for a split second, surprised by your affectionate gesture. The moment your fingers touch his cheek, his expression softens, and he closes his eyes, as if savoring the touch he's been craving. You can feel his skin under your fingertips, warm and inviting.

You hug him gently and lean against his chest. João's body tenses briefly, as if trying to resist, but he can't help but surrender. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer, and you feel his body against yours, the warmth of his chest against your cheek. He buries his face in your hair, inhaling softly, as if trying to memorize your scent.

You sigh softly before speaking. "Why didn't you tell me before?" you whisper into his chest. João's hand slides from your back to your hair, running his fingers through it. He takes a long breath, holding you tight against him.

"I didn't want to ruin your happiness," he replies, his voice a soft murmur. "I watched you with him, and even though it hurt me, I saw how happy you were. I thought I could keep it inside, that it would pass. But it didn't."

You sigh softly and cling to him. “Yes but I am happier with you” you whisper softly. João's heart skips a beat upon hearing your words. His fingers pause for a moment, and his hold on you tightens slightly, as if he's afraid this moment will slip away. He pulls away slightly, just enough to look into your eyes.

"Are you sure?" he asks, searching your gaze. There's a vulnerability in his eyes, a mix of hope and fear. “Yes,” you whisper and lean closer to him, kissing the corner of his mouth.

João's breath catches in his throat at the feel of your lips on his skin. His fingers tense briefly on your waist before pulling you even closer. The desire he'd been trying to ignore suddenly flares up, and he can feel his heart pounding wildly in his chest."Y/N," he whispers your name like a prayer, his voice hoarse with suppressed emotions.

He closes his eyes for a moment, gathering whatever courage he has left. Every reason, every logical thought that told him to stay away from you, to respect your relationship, it all disappears like smoke in the wind.His hand cups your cheek, and his touch is gentle but firm, as if he needs this connection more than air. His eyes open, and the mixture of want and fear is there, plain as day."Do you know what you're doing to me?" he murmurs, his thumb brushing your skin.

Your eyes meet his, and the intensity in his gaze makes you shiver. You know you're stepping into uncharted territory, crossing a boundary that's been there for years. But at this moment, none of that matters. The only thing that matters is the feeling of João's touch, the sound of his breathing, the desire that's been building between you.You raise your hand, placing it over his chest, feeling the rapid thumping of his heart. "Yes," you reply softly. "I know exactly what I'm doing."

João's breath catches in his throat as your hand on his chest makes his heart beat even faster. His grip on you tightens, his fingers digging into the fabric of your clothes. The way you look at him, the confidence in your eyes, it both enthralls and terrifies him.He swallows hard, his gaze never leaving yours. "You'll drive me crazy, you know that?" he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

You smile, a sly, confident smile. "Maybe that's my plan."João groans softly, the sound low in his throat. The way you're teasing him, the way you're testing his self-control, it's both maddening and alluring.His hand slips from your waist, moving up to your face. He gently cups your chin with his fingers, tilting your head back slightly. "You're playing with fire, you know that?" he whispers, the heat in his gaze searing.

You tilt your head back, meeting his gaze unflinchingly. "Maybe I don't mind getting burned."The words hang in the air, heavy with an implication that you both know all too well. The tension between you is palpable, a thin line you're both toeing dangerously.João's hand moves from your chin to the back of your neck, his fingers playing with the soft hairs at your nape. His thumb brushes against your lower lip, the contact sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

"You shouldn't say things like that," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble. "I'm already barely holding back as it is."His thumb continues its ministrations on your lip, tracing the shape of it, as if he can't help himself."You're a temptress, you know that?" he whispers, his gaze fixed on your mouth.

You smile and bring his finger into your mouth sucking on it. Joao's breath catches in his throat as you take his finger into your mouth, a low moan escaping his lips. The act is so intimate, so wanton, that he can feel himself coming undone.

"Y/N," he whispers harshly, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. "You're playing a dangerous game."His other hand tightens its grip on your waist, pulling you closer so you're practically on his lap.

You smirk around his finger, your tongue swirling around it in a way that has him groaning again. The sight of you like this, so confident and brazenly sexy, is driving him crazy. He's trying desperately to keep control, but every flick of your tongue, every subtle movement of your body is eroding his restraint.His hand on your waist slides down, gripping your hip, his fingers digging into the flesh. He pulls you even closer, his body pressed against yours, and the heat between you is palpable.

You release his finger with a soft pop, your gaze never leaving his. The smirk on your face is now a full-blown smile, one that borders on dangerous. You love seeing him like this - torn, vulnerable, wanting you so desperately."What if I want to play that game?" you whisper, your voice a sultry purr.Joao's eyes darken, the hunger in them a barely contained beast. He leans closer, his lips brushing your ear. "Careful," he warns, his words a hot breath on your skin. "You might get more than you bargained for."

Your heart pounds furiously in your chest, the threat in his tone only exciting you further. The thrill of defying him, of pushing his limits, is intoxicating.You lean in, your mouth against his jaw, your lips softly trailing kisses along his skin. "Maybe that's exactly what I want," you whisper back, your voice sultry and bold.Joao's grip on your hip tightens, his body tense with the effort to restrain himself. He tilts his head to the side, giving you better access to his neck, a silent permission for you to continue.

You take advantage of his surrender, kissing and nipping at his neck until a low groan escapes him. His fingers dig into your flesh, his breathing ragged and uncontrolled."You're driving me insane," he breathes, his voice strained with desire. "You're gonna be the death of me."Your hands slide up his chest, feeling the taut muscles beneath his shirt, the quick rhythm of his heart. Your mouth continues its assault on his neck, leaving a trail of kisses and little bites that make him shiver.

It's getting difficult for him to think, with your mouth on his skin, your body against his, teasing and torturing him in the most delicious ways. He grabs your jawline, forcing you to look at him."Enough," he growls, his eyes dark with a mixture of arousal and command. "I can't take this anymore."He stands up abruptly, pulling you up with him, his grip on your arm firm but not harsh. He's lost all patience, and he needs you now.

You smile and kiss him. Joao doesn't waste a heartbeat. As soon as your lips meet, he kisses you back with a fierce intensity. There's a hunger there, an almost desperate need, as if he's been waiting for this moment.His hands grip your hips, pulling you tightly against him. His body molds to yours, as if every contour, ever curve was made for him. The kiss is deep, possessive, as if he's marking you as his own.

You respond to his passion with your own, your body arching into his. Your hands grip the front of his shirt, holding on as if your life depended on it. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, the way his muscles tense under your touch.The kiss is primal, a raw display of desire that neither of you can control. His fingers tangle in your hair, pulling your head back as his mouth moves from your lips to your jaw, your neck, down to your collarbone. Every touch of his lips against your skin feels like fire. His hands are everywhere, roaming your body, pulling you closer, demanding more. You can feel his possessive need in the way he touches you, the way he commands your body with his.Joao pushes you back against a tree, his body trapping you in, his hips pressing against yours. His mouth returns to your throat, his tongue trailing a heated path along your skin, leaving a trail of goose bumps in its wake.

Your fingers clutch the bark of the tree, desperately searching for something to hold onto, as your body responds to every touch, every kiss from Joao. His hands are under your shirt now, roaming over your bare skin, his touch leaving a trail of fire.

"You're mine," he breathes against your neck, his voice a low rumble of possession. "You've always been mine, and I won't share you anymore."

Yes pt2 of the Jude fic plis

❦ - not enough for you. part 2.

summary:: ‘and with hardship comes ease.’ here is finally your ease.

warnings:: THIS WAS LEFT IN MY DRAFTS FOR ALMOST A MONTH.

writers note:: i am SO sorry it took this long? but here’s part one as well.

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

it had been weeks.

weeks since you walked out of his apartment, since you left behind the life you had built together. weeks of silence, of pretending you were okay, of waking up in an empty bed and forcing yourself not to check your phone.

you tried to move on. threw yourself into work, took on extra projects, stayed late at the office just to avoid coming home to the quiet. you told yourself you were fine. that you had made the right choice. that love should never come at the expense of yourself.

but god, you missed him.

you missed the way he’d pull you into his arms at the end of a long day, the way he’d press lazy kisses to your temple while you worked, the way he’d always keep a hand on you, your knee, your back, your fingers tangled with his, like he needed to know you were there.

some nights, you swore you could still hear his laugh echoing in the corners of your apartment. some mornings, you still reached for him in bed before remembering he wasn’t there.

and it hurt. because for all the love you had for him, it hadn’t been enough. and that truth sat heavy on your chest, refusing to fade.

then, one night, your phone rang.

his name flashed across the screen. your breath caught.

for a moment, you considered ignoring it. letting it go to voicemail. but something in you, something stubborn, something still so deeply tied to him, made you press accept.

‘hey,’ his voice was rough, like he hadn’t been sleeping.

you swallowed, gripping your phone tighter. ‘hey.’

silence.

‘i don’t know how to do this,’ he admitted, voice quiet. ‘how to be without you.’

your eyes burned. ‘you’re not without me, jude. i’m still here. i just… i just couldn’t keep choosing you over myself.’

a harsh exhale. ‘i know. and i hate that i made you feel like you had to.’

his voice cracked on the last word, and something inside you splintered.

‘it wasn’t fair,’ you whispered. ‘you wanted me to be someone i’m not. and that’s not love, jude. love isn’t asking someone to sacrifice who they are to fit into your world.’

he was quiet for so long you thought maybe he wouldn’t respond. but then,

‘i know,’ he said, voice hoarse. ‘i’ve been thinking about it. about us. about what i did wrong. and you were right. i wanted you to fit into my life, but i never stopped to think about how i could fit into yours.’

your throat tightened. ‘jude…’

‘i was selfish,’ he continued, not letting you interrupt. ‘i thought love meant you’d follow me anywhere, that you’d drop everything because you loved me. but i never stopped to think about how much you already had to lose. and that’s not fair. it’s not fair to you.’

a tear slipped down your cheek.

‘i miss you,’ he admitted, voice breaking. ‘but more than that, i miss being the person who made you happy. and i don’t know if we can fix this. but i want to try. if you’ll let me.’

your breath hitched.

for weeks, you had convinced yourself that he would never understand. that he would always expect you to fit into his world, to mold yourself into something easier, something more convenient. but this—this was him trying.

this was him choosing to meet you in the middle.

‘if we try again,’ you said carefully, ‘things have to be different. i need to know that you see me, jude. that you respect what i want for myself just as much as i respect what you want for yourself.’

‘i do,’ he said without hesitation. ‘i swear i do. i just… i don’t want to do this without you.’

you exhaled shakily, pressing your fingers to your temple.

‘can i see you?’ he asked after a beat. ‘not to fix everything right now, not to force anything. just… to see you.’

your heart ached. you knew this was a risk. that loving him, choosing him again, meant trusting that he would follow through on his promises. but a part of you, the part that never stopped loving him, wanted to believe that he could.

so you swallowed past the lump in your throat and whispered, ‘yeah. okay.’

and for the first time in weeks, hope felt like something real. something worth holding onto.

i’d like to thank allah, lewandowski, raphinha and lamine yamal for my happiness and for the fact that im alive! i’d also like to thank pedri and gavi for being an honourable mention to my will to live. they are amazing and thank you for making this first half bearable and thank you mbappe for injuring your foot and uhm yeah visca barca

Hi, make one where the reader is obsessed with Cubarsí's arms! (Maybe I have an obsession in his veins)

❦ - biteable.

warnings:: none

writers notes:: lovely arms xx

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

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you swear you don’t mean to stare.

but god, his arms.

it’s criminal, really, how the sleeves of his shirt stretch just enough when he reaches up. how the veins in his forearms stand out when he’s holding his phone. or tying his boots. or breathing.

you’ve become very aware of them lately.

to the point where it’s a problem.

especially because he’s your problem. your boyfriend. the one who always smells good and talks softly and has no idea what he’s doing to you when he’s just… existing.

except he does know.

because you’re not exactly subtle.

the other day, you were watching him fix something under the sink, shirt slightly pushed up, arm flexed, vein popping, and you actually dropped your phone.

you okay? he asked, barely holding back a grin.

yeah. fine. just gravity.

he nodded. then flexed again. happens to the best of us.

you glared. he smirked.

he’s been teasing you ever since.

‘you’re staring again,’ he murmurs one night, lying beside you on the couch, arm draped behind your head.

you pretend to play dumb. ‘am not.’

‘you’re drooling.’

‘shut up.’

he shifts slightly, just enough to make his forearm flex against your shoulder. your breath catches. he definitely feels it.

‘you’ve got a thing for them, don’t you?’ he asks, voice low.

you try not to look. you fail.

‘they’re distracting,’ you mutter.

pau leans closer, smirk barely there, eyes soft but wicked.

‘then stop looking, cariño.’

you don’t.

you never do.

and he doesn’t mind one bit.