I Feel Like If You Openly Support A Team In The League You Are President Of, Then You Should Not Be The

❦ - i knew you were trouble

summary:: you and kenans relationship is falling apart but you can’t help but love him amongst it all.

warnings:: angst

writers note:: i lowkey planned on finishing this series ages ago but i need to include kenan so here we are! and also a joao fic coming too from this series nd then i need to clear my inbox ! xx thank uu all for being so patient w me 😭

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

The bass reverberated through the club, low and steady, like the pulse in her ears as she watched him from across the room. Kenan leaned back against the bar, head tilted, an easy smirk curling at the corner of his lips.

He didn’t see her yet, or maybe he did, and he was pretending not to. That would be his style, wouldn’t it? To play with the tension like it was his own personal game, the stakes as unimportant to him as a casual flick of his wrist.

She knew better now. Too late, but she knew.

The first time they met, he was magnetic in a way she couldn’t quite explain. He didn’t have to try to be charming; it was effortless. His voice, low and smooth, carried promises that made her breath hitch without her even realizing it. He’d been trouble from the start, but she hadn’t wanted to admit it. Not then. Not until the shine faded and the jagged edges of his confidence started to cut.

Tonight, she thought, she’d walked in knowing exactly what she was walking into. She’d come here to end it. To look him in the eye, tell him she was done, and mean it. Yet now, standing there with the echo of his laughter cutting through the crowd, she faltered.

He turned. His gaze landed on her like he’d been waiting for her all along, and her stomach sank. That smile, infuriatingly self assured, spread wider, as though he already knew she wouldn’t follow through. He pushed away from the bar and crossed the room without hesitation, his stride slow but deliberate, like a hunter cornering his prey.

‘You shouldn’t be here,’ she said when he stopped in front of her. Her voice wavered, betraying her resolve.

Kenan tilted his head, studying her in that way he had that made her feel like he could see every thought she was trying to hide. ‘Maybe you shouldn’t be either,’ he said, his tone light, teasing. But there was a weight in his eyes that told her he wasn’t joking, not really.

She hated that he could do this. That he could stand there, so calm, so casual, while her chest burned with a thousand unsaid words. She hated that no matter how much she prepared herself, he always unraveled her in seconds.

‘You don’t even care, do you?’ she said, her voice sharper now. Anger was easier than the ache clawing at her chest. ‘You do what you want, say what you want, and then act surprised when everything falls apart.’

His expression didn’t change, but she saw the flicker of something in his eyes; guilt, maybe, or regret. ‘You’re wrong,’ he said, quietly this time. ‘I care more than you think.’

She didn’t believe him. Not anymore. But the way he reached for her hand, the way his thumb brushed over her knuckles, made her wonder if maybe she wanted to.

Maybe that was the real trouble; she didn’t want to let him go.

And he knew it.

insecure

credits to the owner!

summary: gavi comforts you

warnings: slighty angst

pairing: pablo gavi x fem!reader

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

taglist: @paucubarsisimp, @barcapix, @joaosnovia

requests are open!

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Can you write angst about kenan asking for your fathers phone number because he has interest in you. But your father doesn’t deem him fit/has worries about his potential loyalty to you because he’s surrounded by allot of woman because of his fame. Or because he probably won’t be around a lot?

❦ - but baba.

summary:: what the req said.

warnings:: none

pairing:: kenan yildiz x hijabi!reader

writers notes:: uhh so i made one where baba did end up accepting kenan but why not make one that contradicts that! this req was sent before the other one so im sorry this took like 2 months. also this was so refreshing to write omg.

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

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

‘can i have your father’s number?’

the question fell in the middle of a quiet walk home, your scarf slipping slightly with the wind.

you blinked. ‘what?’

kenan looked nervous, hands deep in his jacket pockets, gaze low.

‘i know this isn’t… light. but i’ve been thinking about it a lot. about us. and i want to do this properly. not in secret. not behind anyone’s back.’

he paused.

‘i want to speak to him. ask for permission to get to know you, with respect. with intention.’

your heart slowed.

because you believed him.
you believed in his kindness, his faith, his effort.
and it meant something that he wanted to go through your wali.

you nodded. whispered, ‘okay.’

you gave him the number and you didn’t expect the silence that came after.

not from him.

not from your father.

but the hours stretched long, your phone quiet, your chest heavy.

until kenan finally texted.

‘can we talk?’

he was pacing, hoodie up, hands shaking just a little.

‘he said no.’

the words hit you like cold water.

‘what?’

‘not no, exactly… just not yet. not now. maybe not ever.’

your throat tightened. ‘why?’

kenan looked at you, really looked. eyes full of something like guilt.

‘he said my lifestyle doesn’t match yours. that i’m too public. too distracted. surrounded by temptation. he said… he’s seen brothers like me before. ones who say all the right things but can’t commit. who get caught up in the dunya and forget what matters most.’

you stared at the ground, fighting the ache behind your eyes.

silence. heavy and aching.

‘i don’t need perfection,’ you whispered. ‘but i do need truth. and a man who’ll fight for this without dragging me into anything haram.’

he nodded. eyes soft. chest open.

‘i want to do this right,’ he said again.

but wanting and being allowed to are two different things.

and right now, your father wasn’t convinced.

your dad didn’t speak much after the call.

just a quiet ‘inshaAllah, khair,’
like he was trying to let it go.

but you didn’t. not really.
because kenan stayed on your mind like a lingering dua.
not loud. not desperate.
just… constant.

he didn’t message you for days. maybe out of respect. maybe shame. maybe both.

until one afternoon, your father came home with a strange look on his face.

you watched him remove his shoes, hang his keys, wash his hands.

and then he said it.

‘he came to the masjid.’

you looked up.

‘kenan?’

he nodded. calm. unreadable.

‘he came to pray, i saw him. we spoke again.’

you didn’t say anything. your heart was already too loud.

‘he said he doesn’t want to go further without your wali’s consent. said he’s working on his deen. asked if we could meet properly. with boundaries.’

you held your breath.

‘he looked me in the eye,’ your father added. ‘didn’t flinch. didn’t fold. just told me straight, he wants to marry you. not now. not in a rush. but when the time is right, when he’s the man he’s meant to be.’

you whispered, barely audible, ‘what did you say?’

your father sighed. not annoyed. not disappointed.

tired.

but there was a softness under it.

‘i said we’ll see. and that if he’s serious, he won’t disappear. he’ll grow, and he’ll do it with Allah in mind, not just you.’

you told kenan that night.

not with big words. not with promises.

just:
‘thank you for not giving up.’

and he said:
‘i don’t want your heart if i’m not ready to guard it the way your father would.’

it wasn’t fixed.

there were still glances from your father.
still silence between them that needed softening.
still moments when your chest ached with waiting.

but kenan kept showing up.

he prayed beside your dad every friday.
he sent questions to the imam about nikkah and mahr.
he texted you only when necessary, and never late.
he didn’t ask to see you. didn’t flirt. didn’t cross lines.

he made it easy to trust him.

because this time, he wasn’t chasing love, he was chasing permission.

months passed.

your father called you into the living room one evening.

he didn’t say much. just handed you a folded prayer rug.

‘he gifted this to me today. said he wanted you to have one just like it. said when he finally makes sujood next to you… he wants the rugs to match.’

you blinked through tears.

and your father, the man who never cried, said:

‘i’m not saying yes yet. but if this is the man Allah wrote for you…
then maybe, just maybe, he’s starting to look like the kind of man i’ve been praying you’d marry.’

epilogue::

your dress was simple, stunning. your hands trembled. your heart was quiet, but full.
you signed your name with your breath caught in your throat.

it was done.

you were his.

you didn’t have music or a big crowd. just soft smiles, warm food, your mum crying, your friends giggling behind their hands.

kenan kept looking at you like he couldn’t believe it was real.

‘you’re my wife,’ he whispered once, in awe.

you grinned. ‘alhamdulillah.’

Hii. Could you write a fic abt João and the reader talking about babies/the future and him proposing?🩷

❦ - my kind of man.

summary:: what the req says.

warnings:: none!

writers notes:: so. first of all i’m sorry for ghosting bc i lowkey got carried away w the tons of requests ive gotten and school is also an issue so i dropped this not so much of a banger. ALSO JOAO MAN FIX UR PHOTOS BC HE JS LOOKS STUPID IN MY BEIGE SCHEME

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

it happens on a quiet evening, just the two of you walking along the beach. the sun has long since dipped below the horizon, leaving only the soft glow of the moon and the rhythmic sound of the waves crashing against the shore.

joão’s hand is warm in yours, his thumb tracing slow circles against your skin. it’s a habit of his, one you’ve grown to love, the way he always finds some way to touch you, as if making sure you’re really there.

the night air is cool, salty, but comfortable. the world feels still, like it belongs only to the two of you in this moment.

then, out of nowhere, he says, ‘do you ever think about the future?’

you glance up at him, catching the way his gaze lingers on the ocean, thoughtful. ‘what do you mean?’

he exhales softly, as if choosing his words carefully. ‘just… us. where we’ll be in a few years. what life will look like.’

your steps slow slightly as you take in the question. it’s not that you haven’t thought about it, you have, more times than you can count. you just didn’t know he had too.

‘yeah,’ you admit, squeezing his hand. ‘i think about it sometimes.’

his lips twitch into a small smile, like that was the answer he was hoping for.

you both keep walking, the water lapping at your feet, until he speaks again. ‘do you ever think about kids?’

you freeze for just a second, not because you’re caught off guard, but because the thought of it, the thought of him with a child, of a tiny hand gripping his, of his laugh filling a home that belongs to both of you, is enough to steal your breath.

you look up at him, searching his face for hesitation, but there’s none. just quiet patience, quiet hope.

‘yeah,’ you say softly. ‘i do.’

his smile grows, slow and sure. ‘me too. all the time.’

his voice is steady, sure, but there’s something deeper in it, something tender. ‘i think about how good you’d be with them,’ he continues. ‘how i’d love to see you as a mum.’

your chest tightens at the thought. ‘you’d be a great dad,’ you whisper. ‘they’d be so lucky.’

he stops walking then, turning to face you fully. the waves roll in, barely brushing against your toes, but you barely notice.

‘we’d be lucky,’ he murmurs.

his hand slips from yours, and for a split second, your heart drops.

then, he reaches into his pocket.

your breath catches.

‘joão—’

‘i was gonna wait,’ he says quickly, almost like he’s nervous. ‘i had this whole plan. something big, something special. but… i don’t think i can anymore.’

he exhales, like he’s steadying himself, then pulls out a small velvet box.

the world tilts.

the ring inside is simple but beautiful, exactly what you would’ve wanted. and suddenly, everything clicks, the way he’s been acting lately, the lingering looks, the quiet moments where he seemed lost in thought.

‘i love you,’ he says, his voice steady now. ‘and i don’t want to wait for that future. i want it to start now.’

tears well in your eyes, your chest full, and you nod before you even find your voice.

‘yes,’ you whisper. then, stronger, ‘yes. of course, yes.’

his relief is visible, his whole body relaxing as he slides the ring onto your finger. it fits perfectly.

then he’s kissing you, his hands framing your face, soft and sure.

and for the first time, the future doesn’t feel so far away.

it’s here. it’s real. and it’s yours.

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

Charles Leclerc Masterlist

Written Fics

Achilles Come Down

A Crime Against Fashion

All Locked Up

Bet on It

Black Magic

Blackmail Material

Blow Out the Candles

Boop!

Borrowed Time

Brake Balance

Break In, Breakdown

Breaking Point

Changing Lanes

Danger Noodles

Daydream

Eurovisionaries

Fairytale

Family Feud

Fit for a Queen

Gilded Cage

Going Once, Going Twice

Head Over Heels

Hydrate or Diedrate

Inked

La Regina

Lessons in Anatomy

Live Like We Want To

Lover

Made with Love

Make Them Proud

Man’s World

Mesaytara

My Brother’s Father

Never Have I Ever

Newsflash

Oscar Jack Piastri-Leclerc

Ours to Protect

Prince of Monaco

Prove Them Wrong

Puppy Love

Roll the Dice

Ruin You

Sink or Swim

Sleepyhead

So Good to Her

So Good to Me

Something Sweet

That’s That Me, Espresso

The Center Cannot Hold

Theories of Relativity

Ties That Bind

Time to Kill

Under the Influence

Use Your Words

What’s the Worst That Can Happen?

Your Friend Steve

Social Media AUs

In My Blood (series with Senna!Reader)

architect!Reader

author!Reader

black!Reader

Brazilian!Reader

celebrity crush!Reader

CEO!Reader

college student!Reader

crazy rich!Reader

endurance driver!Reader

fashion designer!Reader

fan!Reader

Ferrari driver!Reader

Ferrari engineer!Reader

Ferrari team principal!Reader

footballer!Reader

girlfriend!Reader

Horner!Reader

Måneskin!Reader

model!Reader

nepo baby!Reader

Newey!Reader

newlywed!Reader Part I

newlywed!Reader Part II

New Year’s Edition

pop star!Reader

pop star!Reader II

PowerPointless Part II

Princess of Monaco!Reader

pr manager!Reader

protective!Reader

revenge era!Reader

royal!Reader

Sainz!Reader

scandalous!Reader

shameless!Reader

single mother!Reader

socialite!Reader

Vettel!Reader

widow!Reader

wife!Reader

Wolff!Reader

Wolff!Reader II

Wolff!Reader x Max Verstappen

JULES DOESNT EVEN REMEMBER WHY 💔

OMG This Gavi x tennis reader fic was so good could you do a part two or maybe a series out of it. It would be soo cool

❦ - love && war part 2.

summary:: after ages of long distance due to matches and opens, you two are finally reunited, for good. ALSO YOU CAN READ THIS AS A ONE SHOT IF YOU WISH.

warnings:: none

writers note:: first of yall do yg want a part 3 and if so lmk! and usually i have sm to say but i js dont?

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

gavi hated this.

hated watching your matches through a screen. hated missing the moments that mattered. hated that you were miles away while he was stuck in barcelona, playing game after game without you in the stands.

he had tried to act normal. tried to focus on training, on his own matches, but it was impossible when his mind kept drifting back to you.

you were playing one of the biggest tournaments of your career, and he wasn’t there. instead, he was sitting in the team bus, watching the live stream on his phone with his airpods in, barely listening as his teammates talked around him.

pedri nudged him. ‘what’s the score?’

‘she won the first set. second set’s tied.’ gavi’s voice was tight, his grip on his phone firm.

his heart was racing. he could see the way you moved, the way you fought for every point. he knew that look on your face, the one that meant you weren’t giving up.

when the bus arrived at the hotel, gavi didn’t move. he just sat there, eyes locked on his screen.

ferran laughed. ‘bro, are you coming?’

‘go without me,’ gavi muttered, waving them off.

pedri sighed but didn’t argue. ‘don’t stay up all night, man. you have a game tomorrow.’

gavi didn’t even acknowledge him. he was too busy watching you chase down a drop shot, too busy whispering curses under his breath when you missed, too busy fist pumping when you won the next point.

then came match point.

he held his breath.

you tossed the ball into the air, racket swinging effortlessly, the sharp sound of the ball meeting strings filling the speakers. your opponent barely got a return in before you sent a forehand straight down the line, untouched.

game, set, match.

gavi exhaled loudly, running a hand through his hair as he watched you drop your racket, hands flying to your face in disbelief before pure joy took over. the crowd erupted, commentators shouting excitedly, but all gavi could focus on was you.

he needed to call you. now.

he stepped off the bus, walking toward the hotel entrance as he pulled up your contact. it barely rang twice before you picked up, breathless.

‘pablo!’

he grinned. ‘felicidades, mi amor. joder, you were incredible.’

you let out a shaky laugh, still overwhelmed. ‘you watched?’

‘of course i watched,’ he scoffed. ‘you think i’d miss that?’

‘you have a game tomorrow.’

‘i don’t care. i needed to see you win.’

there was a pause, your breathing still heavy from the match.

‘i wish you were here.’

his chest tightened. ‘me too.’

and he meant it. more than anything.

you sighed softly. ‘i’m flying back in two days.’

‘two days is too long.’

‘pablo.’

‘what if i come to you instead?’

you groaned. ‘you have training. a match. be serious.’

‘no quiero ser serio,’ he muttered. ‘quiero verte.’

you laughed, tired but full of love. ‘dos días, amor. i’ll be home soon.’

he sighed, kicking at the ground. ‘fine. but the second you land, i’m kidnapping you.’

‘deal.’

he smiled, finally making his way inside. two days. he just had to survive two more days.

gavi had never been this impatient in his life.

he was at the airport two hours early, pacing near the arrivals gate like a madman. pedri had made fun of him for it, called him dramatic, told him to just wait at home like a normal person, but gavi didn’t care. he had waited long enough.

his arms were crossed, jaw tight, sneakers tapping anxiously against the polished floor as he checked the flight tracker for what had to be the hundredth time. landed. you were here. finally.

his heart was pounding, fingers tapping against his thigh as he watched passengers filter through the doors. every time someone who vaguely resembled you walked out, he straightened up, only to sigh when it wasn’t you.

then he saw you.

hair slightly messy from the flight, suitcase dragging behind you, eyes scanning the crowd. and the second your gaze landed on him, everything else disappeared.

he didn’t think. he just moved.

one second, he was standing still. the next, he was pushing through people, reaching for you, grabbing your face and kissing you like he was scared you’d disappear again.

you barely had time to react before you melted into him, hands gripping his hoodie as he held you close, like he needed to feel every inch of you to believe you were really here.

when he finally pulled back, you were breathless, blinking up at him in surprise.

‘hola to you too,’ you teased.

he ignored you, pressing his forehead against yours. ‘you’re never leaving for that long again.’

you laughed softly, fingers brushing through his hair. ‘i can’t promise that, pablo.’

‘then i’ll come with you.’

‘you have a job, remember?’

he frowned. ‘it’s a stupid job.’

you grinned. ‘says the guy who loves football more than anything.’

‘not more than you,’ he muttered, arms still locked around you.

you sighed, shaking your head. ‘you’re impossible.’

‘you love it.’

you did. you really did.

he grabbed your suitcase, throwing an arm over your shoulder as he started leading you toward the exit.

‘come on, we’re going home. and i’m not letting you out of my sight for at least a week.’

you smiled, leaning into him. ‘fine by me.’

the drive back to his place was quiet, but it wasn’t awkward. it was the kind of comfortable silence that only came from knowing someone so deeply that words weren’t always necessary. gavi had one hand on the wheel, the other resting on your thigh, thumb brushing absently over your skin.

you watched him in the dim light of the car, his face focused, jaw tight like he was still processing the fact that you were finally here.

‘you okay?’ you asked softly.

he glanced at you, squeezing your leg before turning back to the road. ‘yeah. just… missed you.’

you smiled, threading your fingers through his. ‘i missed you too.’

he let out a small breath, like he had been holding it in for weeks.

‘you’re really not leaving for a while, right?’

you bit your lip. ‘well—’

his head snapped toward you so fast you thought he might give himself whiplash. ‘no. no way. you just got back.’

you laughed. ‘pablo, relax. i meant i have a few interviews and press stuff, but i don’t have to travel again for at least a month.’

he exhaled dramatically. ‘okay. that’s fine. i can work with a month.’

you rolled your eyes, leaning over to kiss his cheek. ‘you’re so dramatic.’

he just hummed, tightening his grip on your hand like he was scared you’d slip away.

when you finally reached his apartment, he barely gave you time to take off your shoes before he was pulling you onto the couch, dragging you into his lap.

‘pablo,’ you giggled. ‘let me breathe.’

‘no.’

you shook your head, running your fingers through his hair. ‘you’re like a clingy puppy.’

he just buried his face in your neck, mumbling something you couldn’t quite hear.

‘what was that?’

he sighed, voice muffled against your skin. ‘i hated not being there.’

you softened, tilting his chin up so he was looking at you. his eyes were darker than usual, serious.

‘you support me, pablo. even from miles away. i always feel you with me.’

he swallowed, looking down for a second before meeting your gaze again. ‘i wanted to be in the stands. wanted to run down to the court and pick you up when you won. wanted to kiss you in front of everyone so they knew you were mine.’

your heart ached.

‘pablo—’

‘i know your career is important. i’d never want you to give that up. but sometimes i wish things were easier. that i could just be with you all the time.’

you sighed, resting your forehead against his.

‘me too.’

his hands slid up your back, pressing you even closer. ‘promise me something?’

‘anything.’

‘next time you win a title, i’ll be there. no matter what.’

you smiled, pressing a kiss to his lips. ‘deal.’

he grinned against your mouth, flipping you onto your back so he could hover over you.

‘good. because i don’t plan on missing another match ever again.’

you laughed, pulling him down for another kiss.

home. finally.

Hey could 6ou write something with cubarsi where the reader is introverted so she's to shy to confess so he has to do it

❦ - eres tímido.

warnings:: none.

writers notes:: respectfully i have nun to say 💔

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

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you’ve liked pau for months.

and it’s not some loud, dramatic kind of thing, it’s quiet. gentle. the kind that lives in the way your chest tightens when he smiles at you, or how your voice softens whenever he walks into the room.

you sit next to him during group things, but never too close.
you text him sometimes, but always reread every message ten times before hitting send.
you laugh at his jokes, but only when you think he’s not looking.

you don’t flirt. you don’t know how.
you just… feel. deeply. quietly. maybe a little too much.

pau notices.

of course he does.

he’s not loud either. he’s calm. observant. thoughtful in the way he speaks and even more in the way he listens.

he picks up on the way your eyes linger a little too long.
the way you always remember the smallest things he says.
how you never look him in the eyes for too long, but when you do, you forget to breathe.

and he likes you. he’s sure of it.
he just doesn’t know why you won’t say anything.

one afternoon, it’s just the two of you walking home. it’s raining a little, and he shares his hoodie with you, just like always.

your hands brush. once. twice.

then you pull away.

and he stops walking.

‘you’re not gonna say anything, are you?’

you blink. heart racing. ‘about what?’

pau turns to face you, eyes soft but steady.
‘about how you look at me like i’m your favorite book you’re too scared to open.’

your throat goes dry.

you want to run. hide. dissolve.

but instead you whisper, ‘i didn’t think you’d want me like that.’

and pau just exhales, like he’s been waiting for you to say something, and steps closer.

‘i’ve been waiting for you to say that for weeks.’

he doesn’t rush it.

he doesn’t grab your hand or kiss you right there on the street.

he just smiles, tucks a piece of wet hair behind your ear, and says,

‘next time you’re scared to say how you feel… just look at me. i’ll get it. i promise.’

and you do.

and he does.

darling i think you just killed me… ohhhh my lord

blue jeans, white shirt

pairing: joao felix x reader

warnings: angsty

preface: your ex bf is famous af and he forgot about u from the fame, or so u thought

i will love you till the end of time, i would wait a million years. promise you’ll remember that you’re mine. baby can you see through the tears?

when joão got transferred to chelsea you guys have been dating for a year but it was getting quite serious. he was shown as the new young left winger from portugal. he got his fame from being on chelsea but you knew him when he first joined benfica. you have been knowing him since you were a child so you know everything about him. his pet peeves, his favourite songs, his little quirks and that’s what he liked about you.

you were attentive and loving, you both always had a connection since you were both teenagers. the connection quickly turned to dust when he stopped being attentive to you. he would have events and he stopped inviting you, he stopped inviting you to games, he just ghosted you overall. his mom often calls you to see if you guys have spoken but you secretly hated it. he was your first love, your first body, your first kiss. you were shattered when you realized he wasn’t putting in his all anymore so it was safe to say you guys were done, you deletes his number, unfollowed him on instagram, blocked him on snapchat, deleted anything of him on your phone, you even stopped watching football.

you were back home in portugal for the summer and you were staying again your familys villa, not a single thought in your brain except for seeing your new boyfriend. your new boyfriend was caring and great to you, helped you get over joão. you know your mother was inviting some family friends over and you know it was going to be the félix family but joão stopped attending family functions all together because he was “too busy”. you got out of the shower and you were changing into your pjs so you could do your makeup and you heard the front door open, you assumed it was your boyfriend until you heard a familiar loud voice. your stomach dropped and you started breathing heavily, you haven’t seen him since he’s joined barcelona and it’s now the middle of august.

you gave yourself a pep talk and reminded yourself that he means nothing now and your boyfriend is on the way now. you called your boyfriend to see where he is and he picked up on the last couple of rings. “hey y/n baby, i’m sorry but i don’t think i’ll be able to make it tonight. work is just a lot right now” he says, your stomach dropped yet again. “okay baby. i love you” you say swallowing your panic. you got ready and just tried to go on about your day.

you looked gorgeous. you lost weight, done your hair differently, you were barely wearing makeup. you were wearing a beautiful short summer dress with your perfect manicured hands and toes. joão loved how feminine you were. you walked downstairs of the villa and everyone’s eyes were on you. mrs félix ran up to you and gave you a big kiss on your cheek, you smiled as you hugged everyone, except joão. you just gave him a friendly wave as he looked at you in awe.

you went through the dinner with funny stories of your younger self as well as joão, before you would’ve been missing him but now you feel nothing. “eu vou ao banheiro” (i’m going to the bathroom) everyone nods as you get up, your heels clicking on the ground as you make your way to the bathroom. “wow she’s beautiful..” joão’s mother said to your parents, she turns her head towards her son “why would you do that.. she’s perfect joão”

“não sei..” (i don’t know) “vá falar com ela” his mother whispers to him. joão gets up, making his way to the home he has spent multiple nights over as a child.. multiple family pictures including a photo of you and joão, he sighed and smiled to himself as he takes a photo of it, he hears a familiar clicking, he looks to his left to see you walking toward him, not even looking at him. joão’s heart ached as you walked by him without even looking at him. “y/n.. please..” he says, you stop in your tracks, but continue walking. he walks up to you and turns you around to face him, the teary eyed boy looks at you, he noticed your gaze wasn’t the same as before, it was a cold different gaze. broken, “why did you do that..” you said with no expression on your face. “i’m sorry..”

“but you aren’t.”

he looked defeated to say the least. “if you were sorry you wouldn’t have done what you did, you fell out of love with me, and it’s okay. i’ve accepted it. but the reason why you were okay with it at first was because you knew i was in love with you, but now you aren’t because i’m with someone who actually loves me. it’s time for you to accept it joão, it’ll never be the same.” your words came out like a knife to his chest, your eyes started to water. someone who was once your best friend was now nobody to you. he saw a side of you nobody as seen, but unfortunately you loved him more than he loved you. truth be told but joão never fell out of love with you.

you walked away a few tears falling down your soft cheeks, you turn around to see joão’s hands covering his face as he heaves, you’ve never seen him cry like this. ever. you wipe your tears as you go back to the table plastering a fake smile, your family not having a single clue in the world about what just happened. few minutes after joão comes to the living room looking normal. you both exchanged a weak smile, your heart ached as well as his.

months pass by, you broke up with your boyfriend, joão’s loan at barca ended, and it’s officially euros season. despite avoiding watching football because of joão, you decided to start watching with your father, but tonight you’re at a hotel in berlin, 10 minutes away from the stadium. you posted on your story the place you were at. drinking a glass of wine as you lay on your bed doing your work on your computer, it was close to 2 am, you start to shut everything off as you hear the storm hitting your hotel window, you pull the covers over your body until you heard banging at your front door. afraid but you got up to look at the peephole to see a soaking wet joão. you open the door as he looks at you with bloodshot eyes, he’d been crying. he brings you in a tight hug as you hug him back, he takes in your scent, you always smelt so good.

“what’s wrong j?”

“too much on my mind.” he says drained, you brought him in to sit on the couch, you open a can of his favourite beer as he smiles to you, “you remembered” you giggled, “okay come on let’s talk” you said

you found out that joão missed a penalty shot and he just feels so bad, you understand his concern so you let him stay the night, you both sleep on the opposite sides of the bed. you started mindlessly scrolling on your phone now that you were wide awake. “i can’t stop thinking about you.” joão faces you

“joão please-“

“no y/n- please listen to me. you are my soulmate, my everything. you’re the only person that gets me..” he says as he gets up, walking up to you. “how can i let go of you? you are so fucking beautiful. you have the most beautiful skin, most beautiful hair, and your voice sounds like honey. all i think about is you. ever since i saw you moved on my heart yearned for you. i forgot how amazing you were. i was stupid, all i thought about was my career but completely forgot why i was in it for, i wanted to make money for you. but i got caught up with everything. please y/n.. i can’t lose you..” he says as he gets on his knees, hugging your body as he places kisses all over your body, “please y/n.. say something.” he says as he places a kiss on your cheeks, as well as briefly placing a kiss on your lips. you were crying as well as he was. you wanted to hug him and kiss him to let him know that everything will be okay.

“no- joão. please stop. it’s ruined. you ruined it. it can’t be fixed” you say as you pushed him off, “before i would’ve taken you back in a heartbeat. believe me. but now you don’t deserve me. i think you should leave” you held back your tears

he nodded, defeated. making his way to the door, he opened the door as he looked back at your teary eyes. “i would wait a million years for you. eu te amo” he walked out, your heart aching.