Are We Being Deaduzz 🥀 @n0vazsq

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.

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.

fuck racism .

I didn’t watch the Barca game last night nor log onto Twitter so I had no idea what went on apart from notifications on my phone about the results

I really don’t know how many times we are going to keep circling back to this racism conversation. Racism should have no place in football or in life ever. The way this continues to be so rampant amongst Spanish fans in this case is so disgusting and atp im convinced enough that the La Liga football associates encourage this shit because just how many times has this incident occurred

I hope you racist fucks have a horrible year !!

pls guys send him some love and encouragement in his comments if you can

aint no way lil pablito gavi can handle allat,,, give me your man

in honour of phonzy and sheyenne getting married , do a jamal fanfic where he and the reader (female..!) are childhood besties but have feelings for each other.

Reader is sheyenne’s bridesmaid and jamal is phonzys best man.

Rest is up to ur imagination 🙏

❦ - for better or for best - JM42

summary : it’s alphonso and sheyenne’s wedding and you and jamal are childhood best friends ; except you guys can’t hide your feelings much longer.

warnings : slight angst & fluff!! AND USE OF Y/N BC IK THAT TRIGGERS SOME OF YOU 😭. alsoooo cussing & jamal is lowkey a bit of an asshole…

writers note : i love this idea sm & this is lowkey short, sorry bae 💔 also ignore how this fic progressively gets more obvious that i’m tired and that this is lowkey rushed 🙏

as the venue started to fill up, it slowly started to get louder and full of excitement, everybody waiting for the bride to walk down the aisle. the air was filled with the smell of flowers as you stood at the front, taking in the atmosphere. you held your bouquet tight, even though you said nothing, your face did. you were noticeably stressed from helping with the wedding and you took it upon yourself to leave the bride relaxed for her big day.

jamal silently stood near you, adjusting his cuff links for what felt like the 5th time that night. usually he’s nonchalant but you noticed that emotion was replaced with something else. to your surprise, even he seemed tensed up by the situation. he caught your gaze and quietly asked, ‘nervous?’.

slightly amused with his stupid question to your obvious answer of a facial expression, you sighed and replied with, ‘take a guess sherlock, what about you though?’

‘nah. i’m calm about it, you know me y/n, i don’t stress ab these things’ he was right. you did know him. and you could read right through him, he WAS stressed, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

‘okay then. sheyenne is gonna come any second now, get in your place bro.’ seemed to be all you could come up with. usually you’d come up with a different response but you thought it wasn’t much worth the effort.

literally as soon as you said that, the loud, eccentric fanfare blasted through, announcing the brides arrival. sheyenne looked absolutely gorgeous making you smile like an idiot until jamal turned to look at you, smiling too at your sight.

after vows were exchanged, you and the whole bridal party as well as the grooms party were sent outside for photo shoots with the newlyweds.

‘y/n stop tilting your head, make it straight’, the photographer snapped, knocking you out of your daze. you silently complied, painting a forced smile on your face knowing that you’re well and truly burnt out from all the prep. throughout this whole photo shoot you stayed composed until you heard, ‘okay!! best man and maid of honour come, let’s get a photo of you two’

THAT. that’s what really got you out of that daze. you stood next to him as he slid his hand around your waist, instantly making you tense up.

he noticed your sudden change up and whispered, ‘relax schatz (darling/baby), why’re you so worked up, calm down. it’s not like we haven’t done this before, it always happens at family events, nothing different now.’ and to that you simply nodded and got the photos done with.

soon after, everyone was getting on the dance floor until some random guy who even you thought was quite fine, asked you to dance. and to that you reluctantly agreed, seeming that you had no one else to dance with. ofcourse, jamal suddenly appears just as you’re about to go and dance.

‘idk who you are, but i actually asked y/n to dance first, so if i was you i’d move along, listen mate, there’s other women here so don’t get too disheartened.’ jamal murmured, as the guy stayed silent and moved away like an npc. the brown haired boy grabbed your wrists, but you slapped his grip off as you pulled him into a side room

‘jamal what the actual fuck are you doing?? that guy was sweet and you made him go away for no reason. you don’t even want to fucking dance you dickhead why would you do that. it’s like you’re always trying to spite me what did i do to you. you have so many other girls to harass right now, why me man.’ leading you to sigh after ranting and pleading. to your surprise, he didn’t have a smartass answer, instead he just stayed silent and stared at the floor, unable to create a reason behind his stupid action.

‘okay. i’m sorry. i don’t know why i did it, i guess i was jealous. y/n i don’t fucking know anymore. i’m in love with you and i don’t know how else to make it obvious to you at this point. i wanted that to be the last sign but i guess that went wrong.’ to that, it was you who was unable to respond. and to add to that, you felt like a piece of you broke inside when you heard that. how did you not get the signs.

there was a silence that followed as his words hung in the air ‘i’m in love with you.’ 5 words that you couldn’t admit yourself. to be honest with yourself, you didn’t believe it, not that you didn’t want to, but because it seemed too crazy to be real, as if it was like a disney movie. just because you were unable to break the silence, he did it for you.

‘y/n say something. i just told you that im in love with you and all you’re doing is just standing there. hell i’ve been in love with you for years and i don’t want this to ruin what we already have.’, his gaze softening, noticing that you absorbed what he said.

‘so you were jealous of the guy… jamal please this is the wrong time and place to confess this. and what chance do we actually have together. what’s gonna happen if we break up, what’s happening now even? is this gonna fuck up our friendship.’ you rambled with thousands of thoughts at once racing through your mind, your reaction making him grin, knowing you’re considering it.

‘y/n. shut up. just give it a go, please.’ he replied, before you could say anything he kissed you, catching you off guard by a mile. eventually breaking it, leaving you so lost.

‘okay. fine. but we can’t tell anyone till ATLEAST next week otherwise the whatsapp aunties are gonna accuse us of ruining the wedding.’ you randomly blurted, making him giggle a bit

‘sounds like a deal.’ he said in between giggles

❦ - silent devotion.

summary:: quiet ramadan nights w kenan. ( @barcapix take notes habibi 💔.)

warnings:: uhh none!

writers note:: ramadan kareem to everyone who celebrates! may Allah make your fasts easy! my requests will be slower now that it’s ramadan i need to stay halal yk 💔. also do you guys call it suhoor or sehri bc i call it fothabala bc my dad is from bangladesh…? anyways enjoy 🤍!

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

you sat on the floor of the apartment, legs stretched out, back against the couch. the table was still cluttered with plates from iftar, but neither of you had bothered to clean up yet. the night felt slow, the air thick with the kind of quiet that only came after long days and empty stomachs.

kenan was next to you, his head tilted back against the cushions, a bottle of water resting loosely in his hand. his eyes were half lidded, exhausted but awake, the way he always was during ramadan. fasting didn’t seem to slow him down at training, but once he was home, you could see it, the weight of it, the way his body ached from pushing itself past hunger, past thirst, past exhaustion.

‘you should drink more water,’ you muttered, nudging his arm.

he huffed out a laugh but took another sip, just to prove a point. ‘you sound like my mother.’

‘well, she’s right.’ you pulled the blanket tighter around yourself, watching as he rolled the bottle between his palms, lost in thought.

‘long day?’ you asked.

he nodded. ‘yeah. good, though. i felt sharp.’

you believed him. he never said much, never bragged, never complained. but you knew him well enough by now to hear what he wasn’t saying. the tiredness in his voice, the slight stiffness in his movements. the way he never admitted when it was too much.

‘stay up until suhoor?’ you asked.

he exhaled, considering it. ‘yeah. it’s easier that way.’

so you stayed. the two of you, sitting in the quiet, listening to the city hum outside. he tapped his fingers absently against the bottle, and you leaned your head back, letting the silence settle. neither of you needed to fill it.

ramadan nights always felt like this slow, heavy, still. but not lonely. never lonely.

RIGHT. this is absolute blasphemy where are the joao fics at?? I SWEAR TO GOD yall are driving me insane like fym i have to write them MYSELF? excuse me. SO. send me joao requests if you wish because on god i’ve had enough of this nonsense 🤬. i miss when there was new fics every week like some of them were absolutely peak writing like i think ab that kiss me thru the phone fic every day #bringthatback 💔. @barcapix i love u pls don’t ever die bc i need you to make more fics b4 this flu sends me to heaven ❤️. OKAY LOVE YOU GUYS

Hiii!! I've been thinking about this for a while, and I feel like you're the best person to write it. Something where the reader and Kenan are getting involved, spending time together, but no one knows. They don’t follow each other on Instagram and try not to like each other’s posts so no one gets suspicious. She told him it would be the best way to avoid gossip since she’s the daughter of a famous retired football player and wants to keep things low-key. But after a night together, Kenan tells her he's tired of hiding, that he wants her at his games, and that he doesn't care about all that. Still, she keeps avoiding it. There's an important match in two days, and he really wants her to be there. Then, out of nowhere, her dad decides to visit and takes the chance to watch the game. She texts Kenan, telling him that his wish is coming true—she’ll be there, and no one will suspect anything. The game is amazing, and she ends up appearing on the big screen next to her father. Those images start circulating on football pages because everyone is fascinated by how stunning the ex-player’s daughter is. This brings a lot of attention to her, and suddenly, some bolder footballers start following her. Kenan does not like that…

I feel like there could be more to this, but I can’t think of an ending. I know you can turn this into gold!

❦ - hidden in plain sight.

summary:: what the req says + i honestly wouldn’t be able to tell u bc i didn’t proofread this and i wrote it like last week (idek if this even follows the req but im posting this otw to school?)

warnings:: uhhh none

writers note:: RIGHT so i think im people favourite kenan writer bc the reqs just keep coming (i love you guys pls don’t ever stop my cuties!) anyways enjoy 💔.

tags:: @barcapix @n0vazsq @httpsdana @paucubarsisimp @universefcb ; lmk if you wanna be added or removed!

kenan leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, watching as you slip one of his hoodies over your bare shoulders. it’s too big, the sleeves hanging past your fingertips, but you wear it anyway. you always do. the early morning light filters through the curtains, casting a golden glow on your skin, making the moment feel softer than it really is.

you’ve spent the night together, again, but as always, you’ll be gone before the world wakes up. it’s your unspoken rule.

but something feels different this morning. there’s a weight in the air, something unspoken lingering between you. you can feel kenan’s eyes on you as you tie your hair into a loose ponytail, as you reach for your bag. normally, he lets you go without a fight. normally, he kisses you once more, watches you walk out the door, and waits for the next time.

but today, he doesn’t just let it go.

‘you really think this is still working?’ his voice is quiet, but there’s an edge to it.

you pause, fingers tightening around the strap of your bag. ‘what do you mean?’

‘this. us. hiding like this.’

you turn to look at him, his expression unreadable, but there’s something in his eyes, frustration, longing, something deeper than either of you have ever acknowledged out loud.

he steps forward, his hands slipping around your waist, pulling you closer. ‘i want you at my games. i want to see you in the stands, wearing my jersey, cheering for me. i want to go out with you without having to think twice about who’s watching.’ his fingers tighten just slightly, like he’s afraid you’ll pull away. ‘and i don't care who knows.’

your heart clenches, but you force yourself to shake your head. ‘kenan… you know why we do this. the second people find out, it won’t be about us anymore. it’ll be about my dad, about gossip, about every little thing i do. and then there’s your career-‘

‘my career?’ he scoffs, his jaw clenching. ‘you think i give a damn about what people say? i want you. that’s it.’

you look up at him, searching his face for something, understanding, patience, anything to make this easier. but all you see is frustration and something deeper, something that scares you.

‘kenan…’ your voice is soft, uncertain.

‘no. i’m tired of this, babe.’ his hands tighten on your waist like he’s afraid you’ll slip away just like every other morning. ‘i want you there. i want you to be able to post a picture of us without thinking twice. i want to hold your hand in public without looking over my shoulder.’

you want that too. god, you do. but it’s not that simple. it’s never been that simple.

‘please,’ he says, voice lower now. ‘come to my game.’

you don’t answer. you just press a kiss to his jaw and step back, reaching for your bag. ‘i’ll see you later, kenan.’

he watches as you leave, jaw tight, hands clenched into fists like he’s fighting the urge to chase after you. but he doesn’t. he never does.

two days later.

you’ve been avoiding the topic. every time your phone lights up with kenan’s name, you hesitate before answering, knowing exactly what he wants to say.

then, out of nowhere, your dad calls.

‘thought i’d come visit for a few days,’ he says casually. ‘been a while since i saw you. figured we could catch up, and… oh, i got us tickets to that big juventus match. i know you don’t care much, but come on, it’ll be fun.’

your heart stops.

kenan’s game.

the universe has a twisted sense of humor.

when you text kenan, your hands are shaking, half from nerves, half from something else.

you’re getting your wish. i’ll be at the game. no one will suspect a thing.

his reply is instant.

finally.

match day.

the stadium is packed, the energy electric. cameras flash everywhere, fans wave banners, the roar of the crowd vibrates through your chest. you sit next to your dad, pretending this is just another game, just another night. but it’s not. you know it. and kenan knows it too.

you try not to look for him, but it’s impossible. every time he gets the ball, every time he makes a play, you feel his presence like gravity pulling you in. and then, in a moment so brief you almost think you imagined it, he looks up, right at you.

you don’t breathe.

he smirks. just for a second. just for you.

then the screen shifts.

your face. your dad’s. plastered across the big screen for the entire stadium to see.

your stomach drops.

your dad laughs, nudging your arm. ‘guess they like seeing an old legend in the crowd, huh?’

you force a smile, but your pulse is racing.

the internet moves fast. by the time the game ends, pictures are everywhere, sports pages, football accounts, gossip sites. ex-player’s stunning daughter spotted at big match. the comments flood in. admiration. curiosity. and then… attention. the kind you didn’t want.

your notifications blow up. blue check accounts start following you. some of them are footballers, bold enough to slip into your dms, dropping fire emojis, compliments, invitations.

and kenan?

he’s livid.

later that night.

you’re in your apartment when he shows up, not even bothering to knock.

‘so that’s what it takes for you to show up at one of my games? your dad bringing you?’ his voice is sharp, but underneath it, there’s something else. jealousy. frustration. something that makes your chest tighten.

you cross your arms, shifting your weight. ‘kenan, don’t—’

‘don’t what? act like i didn’t see how many guys suddenly started following you? or how you ignored my texts but had time to post?’

‘oh my god, are you serious right now?’ you let out a short, humorless laugh. ‘this is exactly why i didn’t want us to go public. the second people know, it becomes a thing.’

he steps closer, his jaw clenched. ‘this isn’t about people knowing. it’s about you acting like you don’t want to be seen with me.’

that hits harder than you expect. you open your mouth, then close it, unsure what to say.

kenan shakes his head. ‘you think hiding protects us, but all it does is push me away.’

you swallow hard, because deep down, you know he’s right.

‘you’re mine,’ he says, voice lower now, rough with emotion. ‘and i want people to know that. so tell me right now. do you want this or not?’

the answer is easy. it’s always been easy.

you step closer, press your hands to his chest, feel his heartbeat pounding beneath your fingertips. ‘of course i want this, kenan.’

his lips crash into yours before you can say anything else, months of frustration, longing, and unspoken words pouring into the kiss. he backs you against the wall, hands firm on your waist, like he’s trying to make up for every second he’s had to pretend you weren’t his.

when you finally pull away, breathless, he smirks. ‘good. because next time i look up in the stands, you better be there, and not because your dad brought you.’

you roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. ‘fine. but if i show up, i’m wearing your jersey.’

kenan grins, hands still tight on your waist. ‘now that’s what i like to hear.’

id do every juno position with him

i would never argue, never talk back, never raise my voice