Darling I Think You Just Killed Me… Ohhhh My Lord

So… basically. Hair over the forehead. Case in point?

LIKE ARE WE KIDDING, I’M SERIOUSLY SICK.

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

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.

❦ - moonlight

summary:: it’s midnight in barcelona after the barcelona copa del rey celebrations after party and you and your lover are on the balcony, enjoying life.

warnings:: none

writers note :: so i’m gonna start a series of blurbs based off songs so lmk if u want any players based on any songs. also in my original version hector was smoking a cigarette but i realised its a bit much so i removed it 😔😔.

tags: @barcapix ; lmk if u wanna be added

The moonlight turns everything silver, but it’s the way Hector looks at you that makes the night feel magical. The two of you sit on the balcony, a half empty wine bottle between you. Below, the city hums quietly, but up here, it’s just the two of you.

Hector leans back in his chair. His shirt is undone at the collar, sleeves rolled up, the sharpness of his usual demeanor softened by the glow of the night. He glances at you, smirking. ‘You’ve been staring at me for a while now.’

You scoff, raising your glass. ‘Maybe you’re just nice to look at.’

He laughs, the sound low and warm. ‘Careful, cariño. Keep saying things like that, and I might get used to it.’

You roll your eyes, but there’s no hiding the smile tugging at your lips. Nights like this; quiet, intimate, unhurried, feel like a dream. ‘This doesn’t feel real sometimes,’ you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

‘What doesn’t?’ he asks, looking at you like you’re the only thing that matters.

‘This.’ You gesture vaguely to the balcony, the moonlight, the way he’s looking at you. ‘Us. It’s too perfect.’

Hector leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees. ‘If this is a dream, I don’t ever want to wake up.’

You laugh softly, your cheeks warming. Before you can respond, he stands and holds out a hand to you. ‘Come here.’

‘What are you doing?’

‘Dancing’ he says, his lips curving into a grin. ‘Don’t tell me you’re scared.’

You take his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. There’s no music, just the faint hum of the city, but he doesn’t seem to care. His arm slips around your waist as he starts to sway, guiding you effortlessly.

‘You’re ridiculous,’ you say, resting your hands on his shoulders.

‘Maybe,’ he replies, pulling you closer. ‘But I’m yours.’

The world feels smaller now, reduced to the warmth of his hand on your back and the steady rhythm of his breath. You rest your head against his chest, his heartbeat calming and steady.

‘You know,’ he murmurs, his voice soft, ‘you’re the only one who gets to see me like this.’

‘Like what?’

‘Like I’m just a man. Not a ghost, not a name people fear. Just me.’

You look up at him, brushing your fingers against his jaw. ‘You’ve always been just you, Hector. That’s why I love you.’

His lips find yours, the kiss slow and grounding, like a promise sealed under the moonlight.

‘Don’t let go,’ you whisper.

‘Never,’ he says, his arms tightening around you. And in that moment, you believe him.

joao felix headcanons with a s/o who is very sassy and girly?

❦ - joao felix x sassy gf headcannons

summary:: you’re joaos sassy girlfriend (joao is apart of sassy man apocalypse so honestly it’s hard to beat him)

warnings:: none xx

writers note:: yet again another gorgeous request. where have i been you might be asking, and the answer to that is idek myself… guys i’m working on the fics / req it’s js gon take time also i had sm fun writing this bc i fear im sassy myself.! 🤍

ꨄ - first of all, the media EATS YOU GUYS UPPPP. tiktok and everything loves you two because you’re iconic?? and the outfits you two have are chefs kiss

ꨄ - your comebacks are insane, you’re always keeping him on his toes bc you could say something diabolical

exhibit a ; ‘score a hattrick and then MAYBE i’ll let you choose dinner’

ꨄ - he SPOILS you. dior, lv, you name it, if you even mention it, it’ll appear within 2-3 business days

ꨄ - following that up, flowers will appear at your doorstep after you finish work almost every day

(IM LIT RAISING MY OWN STANDARDS WTF)

ꨄ - oh you best believe that you’re dragging him to the nail salon w you. he protested against it at first but honestly he grew to like it.

ꨄ - he’s definitely jealous of the chicks sliding into your dms

‘you got a dm on insta’

‘oh check who it’s from’

‘who’s j2trappy, he looks like a child… why’s he asking if you’re single’

ꨄ - you’re supportive but absolutely extra, you need to be known as chelsea’s favourite wag. you rock up to matches in full glam, hair and makeup wearing joaos shirt but his number and name is bedazzled

ꨄ - he gives you princess treatment but only for you; he’ll open doors for you, carry your shopping bags and treats you as if you’re the queen.

ꨄ - you send him texts during matches so he can read them afterwards

‘why didn’t you pass it there… even i could’ve scored that goal??’

‘okay i’m sorry carino, i’ll pass to you next time’

ꨄ - whenever you’re out shopping you’ll drag him with you for him to give his honest opinion on everything but it always ends in ‘you look perfect in everything’

ꨄ - before big matches, you’ll give him pep talks but always include some sort of attitude

‘okay baby, if you win today, i’ll let you choose the next vacation spot.’

you always said it in a joking tone but he secretly took it to heart and he definitely worked harder

ꨄ - you have a range of nicknames for him, ranging from ‘golden boy’ to ‘my ronaldo in progress’

unmasked

credits to the owner!

summary: gavi wears a mask, but under your pressure he shows his true face

warnings: insecure!gavi

pairing: pablo gavi x fem!reader

request: maybe one where pablo was always playing cool around u as his first girl but one day he wasnt able to continue acting and he appear stupid in front of the reader but she did comfort him that she wants the real pablo not the actor one. i think its a anger then fluff

taglist: @paucubarsisimp, @barcapix, @joaosnovia

masterlist

It's been months since you first met Pablo, and in that time you've gotten to know him not only as a football prodigy, but as the good man he was in person. To the world he was a star, but to you he was just Pablo.

At first everything seemed like a whirlwind. You met by chance one evening at a cafe. He was just another guy, albeit a famous one, but as the days went by you saw what Pablo was like off cameras and spotlights. He was funny, smart and thoughtful in a way no one had seen on the field. But there was something that irritated you. He always wore this mask, this persona of the cool, untouchable guy. A boy who was always in control, a player who never cracked.

He smiled that teasing smile, his eyes shining with confidence, and everyone around him swooned. But with you, when it was just the two of you, there was always something hidden. This frustrated you because you wanted to meet the real Pablo.

You were his first girlfriend, Pablo didn't know how to behave around you without looking like a fool. However, you were able to feel the distance between you, as if he was afraid that if he showed you too much of himself, you would leave. Maybe he thought that the real Pablo wouldn't be enough for you, that to keep you he had to be the perfect version of himself, the one everyone expected.

You tried talking to him about it countless times, but he always avoided the conversation. He joked, laughed or changed the subject. You couldn't help but wonder why he was afraid to show you his true self.

It wasn't that you wanted to change him. You've never done this and you had no intention of doing so. You just wanted him to trust you enough to stop pretending. You didn't want cool Gavi, the guy who made everyone swoon with his natural charm. You wanted the real thing. The one who was nervous before important matches, the one who stayed up late talking about his dreams and fears. One who didn't feel the need to pretend to be invincible, but who could share his vulnerability with someone who truly cared about him. You wanted Pablo, your Pablito.

But life went on and you still shared quiet moments, laughed together, and even shared moments of deep conversation. However, Pablo's true face was always out of reach.

One afternoon you were waiting for him at his house because he gave you his keys and texted you to come over. You thought that maybe something would change today, that maybe he wanted to talk about something. How wrong you were.

As soon as he got home, you could see the exhaustion on his face. It wasn't the typical tiredness he felt after a long training session - it was something deeper, as if he was carrying a burden that had nothing to do with football.

“Hi” he greeted you, kissing you lightly on the cheek before plopping down on the couch next to you.

"Hey, how's training?" you asked, running your fingers through his hair, but he didn't look at you.

“Fine, same as always” he shrugged and you frowned.

There was silence between you. You scanned him with your eyes, breathing shallowly, while he stared blankly at the turned off TV. His smile was absent and his eyes were duller than usual. His fingers absently scratched his beard, the air thickening.

You had enough, you wanted to end it. You looked at him for a moment longer before speaking.

“Hey, are you okay?” you asked gently, your voice breaking the awkward silence.

He looked at you, and for the first time you saw a hint of hesitation in his gaze.

Normally he would have turned it into a joke to avoid answering the question, but that wasn't the case today, he had no shield to hide behind.

For a long, awkward moment, he just stared at you, his lips slightly parted, unsure of what to say.

"I'm...fine" he said, though from the way his words hung in the air, it seemed like he wasn't. The mask was still in place, but there was something different about it now. She wasn't as convincing anymore, you could tell. "I'm just tired" he added, sighing heavily.

But you knew something was wrong. You had spent enough time with him to recognize when he was hiding, or at least trying to now, behind his mask of the perfect boy.

“You know you don't have to be perfect around me?” you said quietly, concern evident in your voice. “You don't have to pretend that everything is always fine when I see that it's not” you added, looking at him intensely.

He shook his head, trying to smile, but his usual freedom to avoid answering was gone. "It's nothing" he said, his voice now hoarse. “I guess I've been working too hard lately” he looked for an excuse.

He didn't manage to fool you into it. You could always tell when he was faking it, when he was trying to convince you and himself that everything was okay when it wasn't. Your heart tightened in your chest. You knew it wasn't exhaustion from training, it was something much deeper.

You leaned forward, closing the distance between you and looking straight into his uncertain eyes. “Pablo” you said, your voice softer now, more serious. “You don't have to pretend to me. "I know you're more than the 'nice guy' everyone thinks you are" you began.

“I want to see Pablo, not Gavi” you added. "Besides, you always tell me that when I feel unsure, I should talk to you, so why don't you want to do it with me when you're confused?" you asked quietly.

It took his breath away and for the first time you saw something in his eyes that you had never noticed before. Sensitivity. Fear. It was as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders and he didn't know how to carry it anymore. For a moment, you saw the cracks in his armor, and they were more beautiful than you had ever imagined.

"I don't know how to do this" he confessed quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don't know how to be anything other than the guy everyone expects me to be. It's easy on the pitch because I know what I'm doing. But as for… then…” he gestured between the two of you, his eyes falling to his hands, unable to meet yours. “I don't know how to be real. It's just... I'm afraid that if I show who I really am, you won't want it” his voice cracked.

"I act like I'm always fine, like I'm the perfect player, the perfect guy. But... I'm not. I'm just... tired. Tired of pretending" he buried his face in hands.

Your heart ached for him, the weight of his words hitting you harder than you expected. You always knew that underneath the surface, Pablo wasn't as untouchable and indestructible as he seemed, but today he showed you something no one else had ever seen - the truth.

But hearing him admit it, seeing him break down in front of you, it all felt real in a way you hadn't expected.

His words hung in the air, raw and vulnerable. Your heart ached with the pressure he carried alone, to this day.

"You are also my first girlfriend and... I don't really know how to behave, I don't want to scare you or disappoint you, much less lose you" he said contritely.

You slowly wrapped your arms around him, leaning on his shoulder, looking at him with tears in your eyes. He froze, looking at you as if he couldn't believe that you didn't pull away after his confession. On the contrary, you grabbed his hand and squeezed it, naturally intertwining your fingers, offering him comfort with this gesture.

“None of this will happen, Pablo. I won't leave you when you show your true self because I don't want a "perfect" Gavi" you said quietly, your voice confident. “I don't want an actor. I want you, Pablo. The real you. The one who is not afraid to be afraid sometimes, to show that he is human. This is the person I care about. Not the cool guy everyone else sees” you said in a soft voice.

His eyes searched yours, uncertain, as if waiting for you to take back your words, but you didn't. You had every single one of them on your mind, and finally, after what seemed like an eternity, a small, genuine, hopeful smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He was shy at first, but he widened as he squeezed your hand tighter.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice full of emotion.

You nodded, your heart filling with emotion. That was it. The moment you've been waiting for for so long.

“I've never been more sure of anything” you whispered, looking tenderly into his eyes.

Then there was silence, a calm, loving silence as the weight between you lifted. For the first time, you saw Pablo as he truly was - not a star, not an untouchable hero, but a man who could laugh, stumble, show fear and still be worthy of love. And he saw you, not as someone who admired him for his fame or skill, but as someone who cared for him exactly as he was.

He leaned in slowly, his face was only a few inches from yours, and kissed you softly and lovingly. This time it's not for to impress you. This wasn't a show, this was finally real, and you couldn't be happier that he had broken down the walls and finally let you in.

When you broke apart, Pablo leaned down, cupping your cheek in his hand, his forehead gently pressed against yours. There were no ostentatious gestures, no need for words. Just you two.

"I love you" he whispered, his voice full of sincerity.

The words seemed to have been coming for a long time, but now they didn't seem rushed or forced. They were real and you smiled wholeheartedly, responding in kind.

“I love you too, Pablo. Just who you are, not the actor you pretended to be. I love the real you more than you know and more than words can express" you confessed, seeing the sparkle of happiness and relief in his eyes, then kissed him again.

As the weeks passed, things changed between you and Pablo. He became more open, more authentic with you. It wasn't a dramatic change - more like a steady, gentle unraveling of the man he had always been beneath the layers of his public persona. He no longer shied away from asking you for help when he was struggling through a tough game, or how he unhesitatingly reached out to you for a silent reassurance that you were there for him, that he didn't have to be perfect to be loved.

He no longer tried to wear the cool guy mask. He realized that with you he could be tired, scared, be himself, and with each passing day you fell more and more in love with him - not with an actor or a superstar, but with the real Pablo, the one who needed comfort, who laughed freely and shared his fears without shame. He needed your love, and he had no problem showing it fully to you.

But it wasn't just about grand gestures. It was also about the quiet, tender moments you shared, like late night conversations that turned into long passionate discussions, cooking dinner together in his apartment, laughing about stupid things that didn't matter to anyone but the two of you. Every day you learned more about him, for example he had the courage to tell you about his childhood in Sevilla, what it was like before everything started.

For the first time, he allowed himself to be vulnerable with you. And each time you felt your heart fill with a mixture of love and admiration. This was the real Pablo you wanted from the very beginning. A young man who had dreams, doubts and fears, just like everyone else.

You broke down his walls and in return he gave you the most precious gift, his true self.

And that was more than enough.

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

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

❦ - cut my hair.

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

warnings:: NO HAPPY ENDING.

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

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

You wish he would just say it.

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

Because maybe then it wouldn’t hurt so much.

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

Maybe it is.

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

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

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

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

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

And maybe that’s the real problem.

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

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

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

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

It never is.

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

He stays quiet.

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

❦ - one wrong digit.

summary:: joao wanted to call his ex, instead slipping up a digit leading to you. but was it really just a slip up?

warnings:: none! y/n mentioned tho

writers note:: RIGHT THIS IS MY RANG SPOT. how am i flopping this hard? excuse me. i’m lowkey gonna crash out i’ve fallen off and i haven’t even reached the height of my career yet?? also why is all of joaos delicious photos gotta be monotone bro step up! lmk if you want a part two of this.

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

you’re halfway through making a cup of tea when your phone rings. the number flashing on the screen isn’t saved in your contacts, but curiosity gets the best of you, and you swipe to answer.

‘hello?’

silence. then, a hesitant voice. ‘uh… hello?’

you frown. the guy on the other end sounds confused, almost unsure if he meant to call. ‘who’s this?’ you ask.

a pause. ‘i… uh… i was trying to call someone else.’

you let out a small laugh. ‘clearly.’

normally, you’d hang up. wrong numbers happen all the time. but something about his voice makes you linger, it’s deep yet soft, carrying a weight you can’t quite place.

‘who am i talking to?’ he asks, still hesitant.

‘you called me.’ you tease. ‘but since you’re curious, i’m y/n, and you?’

he hesitates, like he’s debating whether to tell you. ‘joão.’

‘nice to meet you, joão,’ you say, settling onto your couch. ‘you okay? you sounded kind of… off when you called.’

he exhales, the sound crackling slightly through the speaker. ‘yeah. just… long day.’

‘i get that.’ you shift, making yourself comfortable. ‘want to talk about it?’

he chuckles softly, but there’s something tired in it. ‘you don’t even know me.’

‘sometimes that makes it easier,’ you reply. ‘no pressure, though.’

for a moment, you think he’s going to brush it off. but then, to your surprise, he starts talking. not in long, drawn out sentences, but in small admissions, about football, about expectations, about the kind of loneliness that lingers even when you’re surrounded by people.

and you listen. not because he’s famous (though his name does sound vaguely familiar), but because he sounds like he needs it.

‘sounds like a lot,’ you say when he finishes.

‘yeah.’ his voice is quieter now. ‘sorry. you didn’t sign up for all that.’

‘i mean, i was about to watch a movie, but this is much more interesting,’ you joke.

that earns a soft chuckle from him. ‘what were you gonna watch?’

‘a classic,’ you say. ‘ever seen 10 things i hate about you?’

there’s a brief silence. then, ‘can’t say i have.’

you gasp dramatically. ‘that’s unacceptable. you have to watch it.’

he chuckles. ‘that good?’

‘it’s life changing.’

you hear a faint shuffling sound, like he’s moving on his end. ‘maybe i should.’

‘good,’ you say. ‘that way, next time you accidentally call me, we can discuss it.’

another pause. ‘next time?’

you laugh. ‘unless you’re planning on deleting my number after this.’

there’s something light in his voice when he replies. ‘no. i think i’ll keep it.’

you don’t expect it to turn into anything. but over the next few weeks, joão keeps texting you, sometimes after matches, sometimes just because. the conversations come easily, and soon, it’s not weird at all that a wrong number has somehow turned into a late night talking habit.

what do yall think abt franco x alonso!reader

“ur so pretty i almost forgot you colonized my country”

that’s so franco smh

guys i’m having heart palpitations wtf gavi goal w balde assist?? it’s like i predicted it by making a balde fic after my gavi one 😈😈

stay delusional girls 🤍

JOAO FELIX TO BARCA??? guys trust im manifesting it