Aint No Way Lil Pablito Gavi Can Handle Allat,,, Give Me Your Man

family meeting

credits to the owner!

summary: it was love at first sight

warnings: none

pairing: pablo gavi x fem!reader

request: hi can you write something about pablo gavi? like his family has a family gathering and his cousin brings her best friend and he falls in love (like head-over-heals madly in love) and his behavior just changes from shy to super confident around her and everyone makes fun of him afterwards

a/n: MERRY CHRISTMAS TO EVERYONE ❤️🎄🫶🏻🎀

taglist: @paucubarsisimp, @barcapix, @joaosnovia

requests are open!

masterlist

It was a quiet Sunday afternoon, and Gavi's family had gathered at his family home for one of their usual family gatherings, enjoying the warm holiday sunshine. It was an intimate gathering, just a warm lunch, loud conversations and laughter echoing throughout the property. But for Pablo, it was a rare opportunity, because between his busy football schedule and his dedication to the sport, these family gatherings became something he looked forward to, even if he was usually the quiet one, sitting on the sidelines.

Pablo was shy, especially around people he didn't know well. His family understood this, so they never pushed him too hard to be in the spotlight. As usual, he was quiet and observant, sticking to his comfort zone and talking to close relatives. But today was different.

His cousin Blanca had insisted that she would bring a friend with her today - someone Pablo had never met before. However, Blanca mentioned her in passing many times and that he would definitely like her.

That girl was you, you gladly accepted your friend's invitation, having nothing better to do, and her parents liked you very much, so you went with them.

The moment you arrived, Pablo felt something change. You stood in the doorway with Blanca, laughing at something that had just happened on the way. Your long, shiny hair flowed and fell freely around your shoulders. Your bright, expressive eyes scanned your surroundings and your infectious smile seemed to light up the entire room. You greeted his family members, being so casual.

You were confident, funny, and effortlessly charming. The moment Pablo saw you, his heart started beating faster. He found himself staring at you. He was surprised by how beautiful you were, not only physically, but also how you made everything around you seem brighter.

You weren't like the other girls Pablo had met. There was something about your presence, the way you moved with ease and grace, that suddenly made him realize how nervous he was. He wasn't even sure why he was so drawn to you, he couldn't even take his eyes off you.

"Hola Pablo!" Blanca greeted him with a wave.

Pablo blinked, suddenly realizing that his cousin and you were looking straight at him. He waved to you shyly, his heart racing. "Hola" he managed to say, his voice a little too quiet for his liking.

You smiled warmly at his shyness. “Hola, nice to meet you! I've heard so much about you” you said, giggling lightly, but your tone was friendly and casual.

The words sent a wave of heat through Pablo's chest. He tried to find something to say in response, but he froze. For the first time, words failed him.

Blanca immediately noticed his awkwardness. "Come on, Pablo, stop being so shy. We're all family here!" she shouted and you just giggled.

Pablo laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yes, sorry. I'm just a little tired from training earlier" he explained.

"But it's the holidays" Blanca frowned, looking at her cousin.

"I did the training on my own" he explained and she nodded, looking at him slightly suspiciously.

But you didn't let yourself be discouraged. “I understand that” you said with a smile that made Pablo's heart skip a beat. “I play a bit of football myself, so I know how exhausting it can be” you confessed reassuringly, winking at him before going to greet the others.

From that moment on, everything seemed to change. Every time you looked at him, Pablo felt a surge of confidence he didn't know he had. It was as if something clicked inside him. He wasn't the same shy guy anymore. With each passing minute, he found himself speaking more freely, laughing more easily. As they sat down to eat, he joked with the others, even teasing Blanca, who seemed a little surprised at how at ease she felt now. She didn't recognize her cousin.

Pablo had always been reserved, but with you it was different. He wasn't just shy Pablo anymore, he found himself leaning forward during conversations, maintaining eye contact and participating in jokes. It was like you discovered a new side to him - one that wasn't afraid to step into the spotlight. You made him feel seen in a way no one else had ever done before.

Gavi became overly attentive, offering to help you with anything, asking if you needed anything, offering you drinks, sitting next to you. His family noticed the change in him - the quiet, shy Pablo was now the most talkative and outgoing person in the room, especially in your presence.

He even dared to talk to you to get to know you better, but the tremble in his voice betrayed how nervous he felt around you. You smiled at him and then started a conversation about football, and after a while the boy relaxed and started asking you about it, which you didn't complain about at all, you liked it.

Then, for the rest of the afternoon, Pablo couldn't help but steal glances at you. Every time your eyes met, he felt a spark in his chest and so did you, feeling yourself blush slightly as you realized that Pablo had been paying attention to you the whole time.

There was no hiding the fact that your friend's cousin was a handsome guy, very handsome indeed. You've seen him many times on TV, Instagram or TikTok and have always admired his flawless appearance. He was definitely your type, you liked him a lot, but you didn't want to do anything against your friend.

However, every time you met his eyes, you smiled widely at him, not knowing that it was like a wave of warmth that washed over him. He didn't want this day to end. He wanted to keep talking to you, laughing, admiring you, feeling the strange, thrilling excitement of being in your presence.

You didn't realize how much you inhabited his head. The rest of his family also noticed his change. His cousins exchanged knowing glances with each other, and Aurora even nudged him playfully.

"Looks like someone's in love here" Aurora whispered loud enough for everyone to hear, smiling from ear to ear as the others laughed.

Pablo's face turned red and he immediately tried to turn away. "Shut up" he muttered, looking away, but it was too late. The teasing had already begun.

"Oh, look at him" his Uncle Juan said, smiling. "He was so shy at first, but now he's the life of the party. Who's the lucky one, huh?” he laughed.

The teasing continued and soon everyone was making fun of him for his sudden burst of confidence, even his parents!

Everyone was laughing, but there was warmth in it - no one was cruelly mocking him, they were just amused at how his behavior had changed so suddenly, and it was all thanks to you. Pablo took all the jokes and even started joking along with them, admitting that he was madly in love with you. The teasing doesn't bother him anymore because he knows he's on the right track. His self-confidence increases as he realizes that being himself around you feels incredibly natural, and he wasn't previously aware of how much he needed it.

Blanca also noticed her cousin's change, so she walked up to him shaking her head, "Wow, Pablo, I think you've become a completely different person since Y/N showed up, huh?" she said half jokingly, but her eyes sparkled with mischief.

Pablo just laughed nervously, trying to stay calm, but inside his mind was racing. Did you feel the same? Did he really fall in love with you that quickly? He had no idea, but he couldn't stop his heart from beating faster when you laughed or when your hands brushed against each other as you reached for the same dish.

The little moments you shared between you made his heart swell. To him, you had a magical aura around you that attracted him like a magnet. When he looked at you in full sunlight, he sighed silently, unable to look at you. He thought you looked absolutely beautiful that day, wearing plain denim shorts and a pink, square-neck, short-sleeved blouse.

He felt that you had won his heart that day, without any real effort, and he couldn't ignore it. Because you noticed him in a way no one else had before. You looked at him as a normal person, not as a famous footballer who plays for a top club. You saw him as Pablo, not Gavi, and he appreciated that.

As the evening drew to a close and the last members of the family gathered their things to leave, Pablo stopped at the door, his heart still beating like crazy after everything that had happened. The teasing, the laughter, the way you made him feel like more than just the shy, quiet kid in the room, it all seemed a blur. He couldn't shake the warmth in his chest every time you smiled at him.

He only just realized it now, but he was really starting to care about you in a way that left him breathless.

You stood by the door, talking to Blanca as the last few guests said their goodbyes. Pablo watched you from the corner of the room, his mind still taking in how natural everything seemed. The confidence he found next to you today was unlike anything he had ever experienced, even on the pitch. It was as if in just a few hours he had become a different person, a person who could laugh freely, tell jokes and hold his own in conversation. It's all thanks to you. He never thought he would ever feel this way.

Blanca looked over her shoulder and caught Pablo's eye. She raised an eyebrow, smiling at her cousin. "Will you say goodbye?" she asked, her voice teasing but quiet enough for only Pablo to hear.

Pablo's heart jumped into his throat. He stood there, deep in thought, not even realizing that it was time for everyone to leave. He shifted nervously, suddenly unsure how to act. Is it just a fleeting moment? Did he really have a chance with you? Could he somehow make his feelings known without sounding completely ridiculous?

Before he could talk himself out of it, he took a step forward, his feet moving on their own. His palms were sweaty and his heart was pounding hard in his chest, but he couldn't let this opportunity slip away. He had to say something. Anything.

Blanca walked away, leaving the two of you alone, and you turned to face him as he approached, your warm smile lighting up your face when you saw him. “Hola Pablo” you said, your voice as nice as ever, it warmed his heart. “Today was really nice. Thanks for meeting” you announced.

Pablo took his breath away for a moment. He could barely think clearly, but he forced himself to speak. "Yes...yes, of course. I had a great time too. I...I mean, honestly, I don't remember the last time I had this much fun" he chuckled awkwardly, feeling his face getting hot.

Your smile widened and for a split second, it felt like the rest of the world disappeared. It was just the two of you in that quiet moment, and Pablo felt a surge of boldness. "Would you like to... go out sometime? Just the two of us?" his voice cracked slightly and he cursed himself for sounding so nervous before running his fingers through his hair.

Your gaze softened, and for a moment, Pablo wasn't sure what to expect. Did he say something bad? Is that too fast? But then your lips curved into a soft smile and his heart beat even faster.

“Yes, I would like to” you said in a warm and sincere voice. “I really would like to” you assured him, giggling slightly at his nervous attitude, although you were also nervous inside, even more than he was, but you didn't show it.

Relief washed over Pablo like a wave, but he didn't know what to do with the newfound confidence that washed over him. He cleared his throat, trying to calm down. “Okay, cool. I'll text you” he choked out, smiling awkwardly but realizing something. “Um, Y/N…” he turned to you awkwardly, and you signaled him that you were listening. “I can get your number?" he asked, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

You laughed quietly. “Yeah, sure” you said, scanning his face and a pleasant shiver ran down his spine.

He took the phone out of his pocket slightly clumsily, feeling how sweaty his hands were and nervously looking for the phone icon so you could add your number.

Once you handed it to him, he smiled gratefully, taking a deeper breath. "Thank you, I'll write to you" he said, looking down at the floor because he couldn't stand the intensity of your gaze any longer, and crimson shades took over his cheeks.

“Alright” you said, nodding. “I'll be waiting” you added more quietly, and Pablo looked back at your bright eyes, which sparkles danced in them. There was something playful and teasing in your tone of voice that made Pablo's pulse quicken.

As you turned to leave, Pablo instinctively took a step forward, reaching for the door. You both reached for the doorknob at the same time, and for a brief moment your fingers brushed against each other, sending sparks throughout your bodies. It was like an electric shock. Pablo froze, his heart pounding in his chest.

You looked up at him, your eyes shining with something he couldn't quite place. “It must be fate” you joked quietly, your voice playful as your fingers lingered for more than a moment.

Pablo swallowed, suddenly feeling a wave of courage he didn't know he had. "Yes" he whispered in a low voice. "I guess so" he added, chuckling nervously.

“See you later, Pablo” you said with a smile, walking slowly out the door.

“See you later, Y/N” he said to you, returning your smile.

You waved him away, joining Blanca and her parents, to which he, and others, waved back.

"Hopefully soon" he said to himself, then leaned against the doorframe.

The family chatter quieted down and Pablo stood there, watching you walk down the street with Blanca and her parents. His heart was still pounding, but he felt different now. Stronger. More alive.

Once he closed the door, he leaned against it, closed his eyes, and a smile spread across his face. Teasing, joking - it didn't matter. What mattered was that you saw him, really saw him, in a way no one else did.

For the first time, Pablo realized that his life would not always revolve around football. Maybe it was moments like this - moments where someone made him feel like he was enough. And as he stood there, replaying the scene from earlier in his mind over and over again, he knew one thing for sure - he couldn't wait to see where this new chapter with you would take him.

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

october is diabolical (i feel u bro 💔.)

anyways this definitely makes up for the obscure amount of time that took this is yummy it fed me good lord. está es una de las mejores cosas que he leído, DIOS MIOS tu talento está más allá de este mundo😍😍

Hey can you do one for Alejandro Balde where he's childhood best friends with reader. Some angst where other girls seem to come into the picture with his fame but he finds out how Y/N feels and reassures her!

✮ Don’t Shy Away - Alejandro Balde

alejandro balde x childhood bsf!fem!reader

sy: you become painfully overwhelmed by how your childhood bsf becomes swarmed and smitten with his own fangirls, as you become increasingly scared to admit your love.

a/n: this has terribly been in my drafts since oct and im actually ashamed for leaving it so long. i hope this makes up for it though <3

warnings: not really tbf.

the sky hung low with a suffocating greyness, and the wind nipped at your skin as you lingered on the outskirts of the pitch.

he’d asked you to be here.

you bounced on the heels of your feet, your fingers nervously etching across the leather purse in your grasp, scratching at the silk. you felt out of place, like you didn’t belong here, but then again—he asked you to be here.

the laughter reached you first, light and airy, floating across the pitch like the first taunt of a fight you couldn’t win.

there he was. alejandro—swirled up in the centre of a foreign crowd. instead, lavishing with women in head to toe with glam. their eyes sparkled with admiration, their voices like birdsongs when they exclaimed out his name.

that smile; the same one you knew like the back of your hand.

but him? he only basked in it. basked in the attention that he received, oblivious to the way it shredded you, piece by piece—leaving raw edges where your heart used to be whole.

the boy who once made pinky promises in the glow of streetlights, who used to scold you for crying over scraped knees and share his dreams with the kind of quiet fervor that only children possess—he felt so far away now.

fame clung to him like a second skin, and you weren’t sure you’d ever be able to peel it back and find the alejandro you knew.

“this is so stupid,” you curse yourself silently, your eyes magnate down to your shoes. let this be the last time you let yourself be humiliated.

you fumble with the watch on your wrist, clocking down the minutes that had you foolishly stood here, waiting. twenty-nine minutes.

it was pointless in waiting here still; you weren’t going to watch the clock tick to thirty as your self respect was slipping.

“hey,” balde called out, jogging to catch up to you, “your leaving so soon?”

when you didn’t turn around, he stopped you in your tracks by kneading his hand into your shoulder blade to prevent you from moving.

“alright party pooper, what’s with the rush? do you not wanna talk to me tonight or something?” he laughed, that same, familiar sense of humour creeping through in every worse moment.

with his help, you spun round, and instantly locked with his eyes. “what’s with the pout chica? im here, now, talk to me.”

“what’s there to talk about ale?” you inquire, brushing his hand from your shoulder. “you asked me to be here.”

“and you came,” alejandro pointed out with a grin, as if that alone made it better. “so i was thinking, if you wanted to stop by tonight.”

the way he said it, like he hadn’t just spent the last half hour entertaining other women whilst you stood around like an idiot.

you wanted to say yes. you wanted to just forget the hurt and walk away with him. but after tonight, after feeling like an insignificant background character, you didn’t have the strength to go.

“i’m just not feeling it today,” you whispered, avoiding eye contact. “sorry.”

“c’mon,” giving you playful jabs to your arm, “what’s the gloom? when do you ever reject me?”

there was a pause of silence. before you sighed, locking your hands behind your back. “it’s nothing.”

his grin faltered, his eyes examining your body language. “nada, no, see—now i know your lying.”

“just let it go ale.” you said, stepping back.

his teasing dropped almost instantly. “your upset? mad? definitely not happy,” he muttered the final words under his breath. “nervous?”

you grumble, crossing your arms. “seriously?”

he tilted his head slightly, examining your face carefully. “are you on your perio—?”

“no balde!” you finally snapped, which made his head instantly recoil back up. you couldn’t keep the anger from breaking through, even if you tried. “are you not aware of what you’ve just done?”

his expression stays blank, and if anything, he looks more shocked at your outburst than he does concerned. and that, more than anything, made the fire in you burn hotter.

“so your gonna stand there, mute, and act oblivious?!” you eventually screech, having no regard for who was listening. “as you always do i expect.”

“qué i don’t—”

“no you never do. do you ale?” you spit, as he pushes you into a more secluded area underneath the tunnel; away from prying eyes.

“look,” he sighs softly, “can you explain it to me rather than screaming in my face?”

“you dont deserve my explanation,” you mutter, feeling the sting of tears at the brim of your eyes.

your throat burned, the fury dissolving, leaving only a raw, aching pain in its wake. if you didn’t leave now, it would only make you cry, and you couldn’t let that happen.

not after defending yourself so promptly.

you turned away again, ready to walk off before you lost whatever shred of dignity you had left. but ale was too quick, wrapping his hand around you wrist before you had the chance.

“why do you keep pushing me away?” ale’s voice dropped an octave low, almost shameful. “im just trying to help you.”

with a slow twist back around, you met his gaze with an expression he could quite decipher.

the conflict of hurt and frustration clear in your eyes made his grip tighten, feeling the desperation in his fingers.

“maybe i don’t need your help!” you exclaim, the contradicting nature between his words and actions making your eyes burn. “not now.”

“what do you mean not now?”

“isn’t it clear?” you shake your head, “can you really not see it… how i truly feel?”

“how you feel? no i didn’t even recog—”

you scoffed, pulling your wrist away. “exactly.”

balde exhaled through his nose, raking his fingers through his hair. “what’s this about huh? you could of just told me you didn’t wanna come over y/n.”

“its not that,” you huff, staring at your shoes.

“then what is it?” alejandro crouches slightly to look at your face, bringing his thumb under your chin.

when you didn’t reply to him, he carried on.

“please, whatever it is, i would rather us talk it out than you hating me for something i’ve done.” and this time, his tone carried sincerity.

not like before, where it was all light and jovial, like he thought everything was just a joke. but instead, something that said he truly cared.

biting the inside of your cheek, you tried to keep your composure. “you spent thirty minutes surrounded by them..”

the guilt in his eyes were immediate; the footballers shoulders dropped in regret.

“..and i stood there like a fool, waiting for you.”

you shuffled your feet against the concrete, finally bringing up the courage to look him in the eyes. “i didn’t have to come.”

“i know,” he replied—weak.

the words echoed in the tranquil air, closing in on you both as neither of you had the fight to say anything.

“i messed up,” he finally admitted, swallowing the lump in his throat. “i should’ve been with you. i should’ve seen you standing there.”

almost as a reflex, you squeezed your eyes shut in hopes to savour this moment if it wasn’t real. you wanted to trust that it was real.

“hey, im being serious y/n. for the first time ever.”

your lips parted in protest, your heart racing at the proximity as he pressed his forehead against yours.

the closeness, the way his breath fanned over your skin—it was everything you’d spent years yearning for, but never daring to confront.

“trust me when i say this,” he pulled back, brushing a stray hair from your face, “i don’t want anybody else.”

you gulped thickly, his words playing strings with your heart. why did he wait for so long to say it?

“you say that now,” you whisper, defeated. “but what about tomorrow? or even weeks from now, when your surrounded by them?”

his brows furrowed, eyes dark with something unreadable. then, as if making a decision right then and there, he took your hands in his.

“there won’t be a next time,” he promised, his thumbs tracing soft circles over your skin. “i don’t care about them, nor the attention, the cameras, the noise—it all means nothing without you.”

the words hit you harder than you expected, knocking the air from your lungs.

“i love you, nena. not them. not this life. you.”

your lips trembled, he was already pulling you in, pressing a lingering kiss against your forehead.

“i know i don’t deserve an answer right now,” he murmured against your skin. “but let me prove it to you, okay?”

a shuddered breath left you, your fingers gripping the front of his jacket as if letting go would mean losing him again.

“¿me dejarás?” (will you let me?)

you didn’t know what the future would hold, but for now, in this moment, you needed to let go of the fear. to let yourself trust him, fully.

“yeah,” you nodded, falling into the urge to rest your chin on his shoulder—your resolve finally melting.

balde chuckled, relaxedly. “that means you forgive me right?”

“i don’t know, your on a test for the rest of this week.” you hummed mockingly, although really, it wasn’t too bad of an idea.

alejandro shook his head disbelievingly, but deep down, he was just relieved that he had his best friend back, or even after this—something more than just friends.

the scrape on your knee had been healed, the wounds of the past, and he was the one who healed it.

❦ - kiss of life

summary:: 5am, extremely rainy morning in madrid except your boyfriend, jude thought bringing an umbrella was unnecessary.

warnings:: none!

writers note:: so this is the second fic of the song x player blurbs and i lowkey love writing these do you see me cooking bro… these are sm easier esp w my mocks starting soon so i’ll try and get a few produced !!

tags: @barcapix

The rain started halfway through the walk home. You weren’t expecting it, of course, but Jude had insisted you’d ‘be fine without an umbrella.’ Now, the two of you were drenched, trainers squeaking against the pavement as you half-jogged through the empty streets.

‘You’re such an idiot,’ you muttered, wiping water off your face.

Jude just laughed, his hair plastered to his forehead. ‘C’mon, it’s not that bad.’

‘It’s freezing!’ you shot back, pulling his hoodie tighter around you. It was far too big for you, the sleeves hanging past your hands, but at least it was warm, though it now smelled like wet fabric and regret.

Jude stopped suddenly under the awning of a closed café, catching your wrist to pull you out of the rain. ‘Alright, drama queen,’ he said, grinning. ‘Let’s take a break before you blame me for catching pneumonia.’

‘You’d deserve it,’ you huffed, crossing your arms.

His grin widened. ‘You’d still take care of me, though.’

You gave him a pointed look, but he was right. You always did.

Leaning back against the brick wall, he tilted his head, watching you quietly for a moment. ‘You know, you look kinda cute like this.’

‘Like what? A drowned rat?’

Jude chuckled, shaking his head. ‘No. Just… you. You’re always cute.’

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth creeping up your neck betrayed you. ‘Don’t think flattery’s gonna stop me from yelling at you when we get home.’

‘Noted,’ he said, stepping closer. His hands slid into the pockets of the hoodie you were wearing, tugging you toward him. ‘But for now, let me enjoy this.’

You raised an eyebrow. ‘Enjoy what?’

‘This,’ he said simply, dropping his forehead against yours. His voice was softer now, almost drowned out by the rain. ‘You. Us. Moments like this.’

For a second, the cold didn’t matter. The rain didn’t matter. It was just Jude, his eyes on you, his touch steady, his presence enough to make the world blur around you.

‘You’re lucky you’re cute,’ you murmured, your lips brushing his as you spoke.

He smiled against your mouth. ‘I know.’

And as the rain fell, you let yourself get lost in him, knowing he was your safe place as much as you were his.

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.

hmmm so i lowk want sleepy franco, bc i had a dream abt him last night no joke. let's see. okay. we're on a plane, his like travel director guy? idk what he's called, but he books the wrong ticket so franco has to sit in economy class (horror) and he's all grumpy and tired and his curls are peeking thru his hoodie (HEHE) idk if you wanna make us a fan of him or not, i truly don't care ill read it anyway, and then drumroll please, TURBULENCE, and we hold hands and end up talking and then fall in love mwah

❦ - ‘la concha de mi madre’.

warnings:: cussing.

writers notes:: IM SORRY IF YOU SPEAK SPANISH AND UNDERSTAND THE TITLE 🥀. if you get the reference then you get it but if u don’t then it’s bc he said it on team radio 😔.

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

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you’re already exhausted when you get to the gate. the kind of tired that settles behind your eyes and makes everything feel just a little bit blurry. it’s a late flight, barely-full, and you’re silently thanking the universe for that as you scan your boarding pass.

economy. window seat. quiet.

until he walks in.

it’s subtle at first. just a little wave of tension that passes through the gate area like a ripple, the way it always does when someone vaguely famous walks into a space not meant for them. people don’t scream or swarm, but you hear the hushed whispers, the occasional, poorly-hidden phone snap. and then you see him.

franco.

hood up. head down. dragging a carry-on with one hand and a coffee in the other like it might be the only thing keeping him awake.

he looks like he was just pulled out of sleep and shoved into an airport. grey hoodie. black joggers. a duffel slung lazily over one shoulder. and his curls, god, his curls, are peeking out from under the fabric like they’re trying to escape. messy and soft and unfairly pretty.

you try not to stare.

he looks grumpy. not mean, not rude, just tired in the way only someone who was promised comfort but got chaos instead can be. he stops by the flight attendant, glances down at his phone, then mutters something in spanish you don’t catch but feel in your soul. it’s giving: ‘how did i end up here?’

you turn back to your book, pretending you’re not watching him weave down the aisle, scanning seat numbers, getting closer and closer until

he stops. right beside you.

your row.

he double checks his pass. stares at the seat. stares at you. then groans, barely audible, and sinks down into the seat next to yours like it personally offended him.

‘la concha de mi madre… wasn’t supposed to be here,’ he mumbles, more to himself than you.

you don’t say anything at first. you just glance sideways, taking in the way his knees hit the seat in front of him. he’s clearly too tall for this. he exhales sharply through his nose and tilts his head back, letting it thud softly against the wall.

‘rough night?’ you ask gently.

he peeks one eye open.

‘travel guy booked the wrong class. s’posed to be business.’ he sounds like he’s explaining a grave injustice. and honestly, to him, maybe it is.

you bite back a laugh. ‘and now you’re slumming it with the rest of us.’

he looks at you properly now. eyes sharp despite how sleepy he is. ‘you make it sound like i’m gonna die in here.’

‘you might,’ you tease. ‘depends how dramatic you get.’

he cracks a smile, small, sleepy, but real, and pulls his hoodie tighter around him. then it’s quiet again. the kind of quiet that fills a plane before takeoff: muted announcements, seatbelt clicks, the soft shuffle of passengers settling in.

you go back to your book. or try to. it’s hard to focus when an f1 driver is breathing softly beside you, head tilted toward the window, lashes brushing his cheekbones, hands folded loosely over his stomach.

he looks peaceful like that. tired, yes, but soft in a way you didn’t expect. like he’s finally stopped fighting the chaos and just let himself be still.

you’re almost asleep yourself when it happens.

the plane jerks. a sudden lurch. not violent, but sharp enough to pull you from the edge of sleep and snap your heart into alert.

your hand flinches toward the armrest, gripping it tight.

and then another bump, this one stronger. someone across the aisle lets out a small yelp.

your stomach twists.

and then

warm fingers slip over yours.

it’s so casual, so easy, like he’s done this before. his hand is big, firm, grounding. he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even open his eyes, but the pressure of his palm against yours is enough to slow your breath just a little.

‘just turbulence,’ he murmurs, voice low, raspy with sleep. ‘happens all the time.’

you don’t know why you believe him. maybe because he sounds so calm. maybe because your hand fits stupidly well in his. or maybe because, deep down, part of you likes that this stranger, this famous, hoodie-wearing, grumpy stranger, is the one keeping you steady.

when the turbulence fades, you think he’ll pull away.

he doesn’t.

you glance over. his eyes are open now, just barely, looking at your joined hands with an unreadable expression.

‘you don’t have to keep holding it,’ you say quietly.

he shrugs, thumb brushing against your skin. ‘you looked scared.’

you don’t answer. just look away, heart thudding a little too loud in your chest.

after a beat, he shifts in his seat, turning slightly toward you.

‘i’m franco, by the way.’

you blink. not because you didn’t know. but because it feels strange, intimate, for him to offer it like that.

‘y/n,’ you say back, voice softer than before.

he nods once. ‘pretty name.’

you smile, small and a little shy. and for the first time, you notice how close you are. how your knees almost touch. how your fingers are still tangled like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

somewhere over the clouds, in a cramped economy seat beside a boy who was never supposed to be here, something starts.

it’s quiet. unexpected. but it’s there.

and neither of you let go.

you land just after sunrise.

the light filters through the little oval window in soft streaks of gold and peach, brushing over franco’s curls as he stretches beside you with a sleepy groan. his hoodie’s slipped a little down his shoulder, revealing a white t-shirt and a glimpse of collarbone, and you don’t mean to stare, but also, maybe you do.

‘how’d you sleep?’ he asks, voice gravelly and barely awake.

you smile. ‘not much.’

‘same.’

you both sit there for a second, still tangled in the strange bubble that formed somewhere midair. he shifts, glancing down at your hands, still close, not quite touching anymore, but close enough to feel the leftover warmth. his fingers twitch like maybe he wants to reach back.

you beat him to it, brushing your pinky against his.

he looks over, and he’s smiling.

‘you hungry?’ he asks, suddenly casual. like you didn’t just hold hands for three hours in silence. like you didn’t fall asleep with your shoulder brushing his in the middle of the sky.

you blink. ‘what?’

he rubs the back of his neck, curls wild now, sticking out in soft little tufts. ‘there’s this café i always go to when i fly through here. their croissants are insane. i can… show you?’

your heart does something stupid.

‘yeah,’ you say, voice softer than you mean it to be. ‘sure. croissants sound good.’

you gather your things. he waits for you. and as you walk off the plane, into the cool, early morning quiet of the airport, something about it feels like a movie. the way your suitcases roll in sync. the way his hoodie sleeve brushes your arm every few steps. the way people glance over, eyes widening slightly, not because of you, but because of him.

he doesn’t seem to notice. or care. he’s too busy walking beside you like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

‘so,’ you say, just to fill the silence, ‘did your travel guy get fired yet?’

he snorts. ‘he’s on very thin ice.’

you laugh, and he grins, bright and sleepy and a little crooked.

the café is tucked in a quiet corner of the terminal. tiny tables. warm lights. the smell of espresso thick in the air.

he orders two croissants and two coffees like he’s done it a hundred times before.

‘you bring all your turbulence buddies here?’ you tease as you settle into a table by the window.

he smirks. ‘nah. just the brave ones who hold my hand mid-air.’

you roll your eyes, but your cheeks are warm.

the coffee is good. the croissant is better. and the company, well, that’s the best part.

you talk. about little things. stupid things. favorite movies. airport horror stories. he tells you about the time his luggage got sent to a completely different continent. you tell him about the time you missed a flight because you fell asleep at the gate. he laughs, really laughs, and you catch yourself watching the way his face lights up, the way his eyes crinkle, the soft edges of his tired smile.

you’re both halfway through your second coffee when his phone buzzes. he glances at it, then groans.

‘my ride’s here.’

you nod, trying not to look disappointed.

he stands slowly, stretching again, hoodie riding up just a little, and then looks at you like he’s not quite sure what to do.

you break the silence first.

‘it was nice flying with you.’

he huffs a laugh. ‘yeah. it was.’

you expect him to walk away. just wave, say bye, disappear into the crowd.

instead, he hesitates. looks at you like he’s debating something.

then

‘can i see you again?’

you blink. ‘what?’

he runs a hand through his curls. ‘i mean… if you want. i know it was just a weird flight and some turbulence and coffee, but…’ he shrugs, like he can’t quite explain it. ‘i liked this. i liked you.’

your heart stumbles.

‘yeah,’ you say, quiet but sure. ‘i’d like that too.’

he grins. pulls out his phone. you exchange numbers, fingers brushing as he hands it back.

‘don’t ghost me,’ he says, teasing.

you smirk. ‘only if your travel guy doesn’t mess it up again.’

he laughs again, starts to walk backward toward the exit, still facing you.

‘see you soon, turbulence girl.’

and then he’s gone.

but your phone buzzes thirty seconds later.

franco: next time i’m booking us both business class. just saying.

you grin.

yeah. you’ll see him again.

it starts with texts.

a few here and there. late at night. early morning. sleepy updates and little inside jokes. a photo of his breakfast one day. a screenshot of your playlist the next. nothing dramatic. nothing loud.

just a slow, easy kind of beginning.

and then one day, he sends you a message that says:

‘are you free this friday? i owe you dinner. and business class. but we’ll start with dinner.’

you say yes.

and that’s how you end up outside a small restaurant tucked between quiet streets, heart thudding in your chest as you spot him leaning against the wall, hoodie up, curls peeking out just like that first night.

but this time, he looks up and smiles as soon as he sees you.

‘you came,’ he says, stepping forward, pulling the hood down.

‘you asked,’ you reply.

he holds the door open for you, and it’s something about the way he looks at you, like he’s been waiting to see you again since the second you left, that makes your stomach do something ridiculous.

the restaurant is small. warm. dim lighting and quiet music. you sit across from him, nervous at first, picking at the edge of your napkin.

but he’s soft. all soft.

asking how your week was. telling you how training’s been. joking about how he’s still haunted by the flight. and you both laugh, really laugh, like it’s been forever since something felt this easy.

somewhere between dinner and dessert, the conversation shifts.

you’re talking about the places you want to visit. the little corners of the world that live on your bucket list. he’s leaning in, chin resting in his hand, eyes never leaving you.

‘so what you’re saying,’ he murmurs, ‘is that you’d need a travel buddy.’

you raise a brow. ‘you offering?’

he smiles slow. ‘i already know how you handle turbulence.’

you toss a sugar packet at him. he catches it.

and when the night ends, and you’re outside again in the cool air, he walks you to your car without saying much.

just before you open the door, he stops.

‘can i—’ he rubs the back of his neck, like he’s nervous now. ‘i wanna see you again.’

you tilt your head. ‘another flight?’

he chuckles. ‘hopefully without economy class.’

you step closer. your hands graze.

‘i’d like that,’ you say.

and this time, this time when he leans in, it’s not your hands that touch first. it’s his forehead resting lightly against yours. soft, sweet. the kind of almost-kiss that says everything without rushing it.

his voice is barely a whisper.

‘goodnight, y/n.’

and you smile, feeling weightless.

‘goodnight, franco.’

you fall asleep on facetime the first time it happens.

you’re both in bed, screens glowing in the dark, him in a hoodie again, hood up, hair a little messy from running his hand through it too much. you’re curled beneath a blanket, barely lit by your lamp, yawning as he tells you something dumb one of his teammates said in the locker room.

you’re not sure when you drift off, only that when you open your eyes again, the call is still going.

his camera is angled up now, like he fell asleep too. his face half-buried in a pillow, breathing slow. the little rectangle on your screen shows the soft rise and fall of his chest, a peek of his collarbone, the edge of his hoodie slipping down one shoulder.

you watch him for a moment.

just… watch.

something tugs at your heart. soft and sure.

you end the call before your screen dies, and sleep comes easier after that.

the next morning, he texts you:

‘slept better than i have in weeks. you?’

you type:

‘same. weird.’

he sends a photo. his pillow, a bit messy. the corner of his hoodie in the frame.

‘blaming you. don’t leave next time.’

and you want to tell him you won’t. that you’ll stay on the line until the sun rises if that’s what he wants. but you just reply:

‘no promises.’

he calls you that night too.

and the one after that.

the first kiss comes later.

not during a date. not at dinner. not even with music or city lights or anything remotely romantic.

it’s raining.

you weren’t supposed to see him. just dropped by his place to return something, a hoodie you stole without realizing. but he opens the door and grins like he hasn’t seen you in weeks instead of days.

‘you’re wet,’ he says, brushing a hand over your shoulder.

‘yeah, well, the weather’s rude.’

you’re about to hand him the hoodie when he steps back and says, ‘come in. or you’ll catch something.’

and you do.

you sit on the edge of his couch, water dripping from your sleeves. he disappears for a second, returns with a towel and a mug of something warm. tea. maybe. you’re not sure. you’re too busy watching the way his lashes stick together from the rain. the way his hoodie is half-zipped, revealing the curve of his throat.

he crouches in front of you, drying your hands first.

‘you didn’t have to,’ you murmur.

he shrugs. but his hands linger.

‘you’re kind of important,’ he says, soft. like it’s not a big deal.

you look at him. really look.

his curls are damp. his eyes are tired but bright. his thumb is brushing along the back of your hand like he doesn’t want to stop touching you.

and you lean in first.

not much. just a little. but enough.

his breath catches, and he moves with you. quiet. slow. no rush.

his lips find yours like they’ve been waiting.

just the softest pressure. the rain still pattering outside. his hand resting against your jaw, thumb grazing your cheek like you might disappear if he doesn’t hold you right.

when you pull back, he stays close.

forehead to yours.

‘finally,’ he whispers.

and you smile.

epilogue::

he’s already seated when you get there.

hood up. headphones around his neck. hoodie sleeves bunched up on his forearms. curls peeking out messily. the most him he’s ever looked.

you stop in the aisle for a second, grinning.

‘you’re in the window seat?’ you tease.

he peeks up at you with that sleepy half-smile, eyes already warm.

‘wanted to watch the clouds. but i’ll trade if you want it.’

you shake your head and slide into the seat beside him. ‘nah. wanna lean on you.’

he makes a soft sound, half a chuckle, half a breath, and reaches for your hand almost immediately. it’s instinct, at this point. the way his fingers find yours without looking. the way his thumb brushes over your knuckles like he needs to remind himself you’re here. his.

you tuck your bag away, get comfortable, rest your head on his shoulder as the plane starts taxiing.

‘remember our first flight?’ you mumble.

he hums. ‘economy class. tragic.’

you laugh, sleepily. ‘you were grumpy.’

‘you held my hand during turbulence.’

‘you fell in love.’

he turns his head a little, presses his lips to your hair.

‘yeah,’ he says softly. ‘i did.’

you close your eyes, smile against his hoodie.

there’s no rush. no uncertainty. no almosts anymore. just his hand in yours, the hum of the engine, and the quiet thud of your hearts keeping time.

somewhere in the sky, between time zones and cloudlines, he whispers:

‘i’d sit in economy again if it meant meeting you.’

you don’t open your eyes. you just squeeze his hand and whisper back:

‘good thing you don’t have to.’

and he smiles, forehead resting against yours, while the plane lifts into the sky.

Hii!! I just want to say that I'm absolutely addicted to your stories. Honestly, they've become the best part of my day, i get to escape the world for a bit. I hadn’t been able to find a book that truly hooked me, but your writing is simply incredible!! I’m completely obsessed ❤️❤️❤️

THANK YOUUUU ❤️!! you guys don’t know how much this means to me! every single bit of praise honestly makes my day. i love you all so much 🤍.

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

through the storm

credits to the owner!

summary: gossip clouds your mind so much that your relationship hangs over the abyss

warnings: angst, argument

pairing: pablo gavi x fem!reader

requests: 1. hey i would like to request about pablo x reader were the reader is so jealous and upset about the girl that rumored pablo... and pablo keep telling her that there were just friends but the reader wouldn't believe it. and it turned out to have their biggest argument and 1 day ago they sorted it out.. and can you please make it long HEHEH (take your time and thank you so much💘)

2. i loovveddd your prom fic it was really good!! could you write an angst fic for gavi? any storyline you wish, thank you🫶🫶

taglist: @paucubarsisimp, @barcapix, @joaosnovia

masterlist

It was a Thursday night and you should have known something was wrong from the very beginning. The air was heavier than usual, the silence in apartment was unbearable. You were sitting in the kitchen, idly scrolling through your phone, when you saw the notification. It was from your friend from college, her name flashed on the screen, and it had a link to an article attached to it. You didn't notice it at first, but then you saw the headline.

"Pablo Gavi and Alice: Sparks fly in Barcelona's newest friendship"

Your heart jumped and then dropped completely. The world around you seemed to lose its color. Alice. This name. You had heard them many times before, but you always ignored them. You never thought about it. But now, seeing them in bold, your chest tightened and you couldn't breathe.

You stared at the headline, each word felt like a punch to the gut. "Sparks fly." Your eyes welled up with tears before you could even process the rest. Pablo. Pablo, the person you trusted and loved with all your heart. And now, the realization hit you like a freight train, he wasn't just your Pablo anymore.

He wasn't the one who came back to you at night, laughing at your stupid jokes, holding you close like you were the only person who mattered.

The article continued. Details, too many details, about how Pablo and Alice were inseparable. As always, they seemed to gravitate towards each other, even in the most mundane moments. “Always seen laughing”, “always talking closely during practice”, “even spending time together off the field”.

Your stomach turned, nausea creeping in as you read. Your throat felt tight and the burn of betrayal crawled up your spine, threatening to drown you. Each sentence was a fresh blow. Every new detail made the ground fall away from under you. A pit began to form in your chest and spread throughout your body like ice, sharp and cold.

“Just friends” you muttered under your breath, but the words seemed empty, like a lie you kept trying to convince yourself.

Your hands shook violently as you scrolled down, each sentence sinking into you. Each new revelation, a new crack in the foundation of everything you thought you knew.

It wasn't just friendship. You knew it. You felt it in your bones. And what scared you more was that you saw the signs, you saw them all, but you ignored them. The way Pablo smiled into the phone, his eyes lighting up when Alice's name appeared on the screen. The way he never hesitated to respond to her messages, the inside jokes, the laughter that seemed to echo in the background but you never questioned it. You never let your insecurities creep in because you trusted him. You trusted him completely.

Now, as you sat there, staring at the screen, everything changed. The love you thought was unwavering, the bond you thought would never be broken, suddenly felt fragile, like broken glass beneath your feet.

Later that night, you tried to push away the thoughts that were consuming you. "Maybe I'm exaggerating too much?" you thought. Maybe it was nothing, just harmless friendship, but deep down something was gnawing at you. You couldn't shake the feeling that you were losing him, even if you didn't know why.

When Pablo finally returned home, the silence between the two of you was deafening. You didn't even look at him when he walked through the door, his smile fading the moment he saw the look on your face. It wasn't the way he usually greeted you like always, full of warmth and affection. No, this time it was different. You felt as if a cold void had opened between you.

"Hey, what happened?" his voice was soft, filled with concern, but there was a note of uncertainty in it that cut deeper than any harsh words.

"So...Alice, huh?" the words left your mouth before you could stop them.

They were sharp, cutting, and when they hit the air, it felt like the world stopped. Your voice cracked at the end, the jealousy, the pain, the betrayal spilling out in a way you couldn't contain. Pablo blinked in surprise, his face turning pale.

"What about Alice?" he was confused, clearly off balance, but there was something else in his eyes, something that made you feel like you were standing on the edge of a cliff, ready to fall into something you couldn't control.

Then you stood up, the tension in your body unbearable.

"The girl you spend all your time with? The one they call your new best friend? The one I wasn't supposed to worry about?" you scoffed, looking at him from under the bull.

His expression faltered, and then a wave of guilt washed over his face.

"Amor, I... I don't know what you're talking about and you definitely have nothing to worry about" he stated calmly.

But now you couldn't stop. You couldn't hold it in any longer. The pain poured out of you like a flood.

"Don't lie to me, Pablo!" you growled, your voice shaking with anger, frustration, and pain you couldn't put into words. “I saw the way you looked at her. You're constantly texting her, laughing, sharing inside jokes. You're not the same with me anymore” you said in one breath, sadness radiating from you.

He frowned, frustration creeping into his voice.

“Y/N, you're acting ridiculous” he growled, but even then there was a note of hurt in his words. “I love YOU. Alice and I just-”

"What is it, Pablo?" you interrupted, raising your voice. "Just friends? You don't understand that, do you? I'm your girlfriend! Not her!" you screamed.

There was a silence that was suffocating. He clenched his jaw and his eyes seemed to darken, trying to find the words to fix this, but there were none. Eventually his voice softened, though it still carried the weight of something unsaid.

"I already told you. She's just a friend. Why can't you believe me?" he asked impatiently.

“Because you're not showing me that you care” you snapped, tears now streaming down your cheeks, your breathing ragged. “You're so wrapped up in her that I feel invisible, Pablo. I don’t even know who you are anymore” your voice cracked.

"I don't-" Pablo started, you interrupted him, every word you said now feeling like a dagger.

"No, don't you dare! I sat here and watched you. I watched you talk to her, watch you smile at her like she was the only person in the world. And I was too blind to notice, but now... Now I don't I can unsee this” your voice cracked.

His face hardened. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words died on his tongue. He closed his eyes as if trying to gather his thoughts, but you were already too far away.

“Please, Y/N” he said quietly, walking up to you, his voice barely above a whisper. “She's just a fellow staff member, someone I talk to, nothing more. I'm telling you there's nothing between us. Please trust me" he explained.

“Amor, you have to believe me. She's just a friend. I don't know why people say such things, but you're the one I want! It was always you!” he spoke desperately but calmly, trying to calm you down.

You shook your head, tears now flowing freely down your cheeks.

“I don't believe you anymore” you whispered, the words seeming to choke you. “I don't know how to believe you anymore,” you sobbed, shaking your head, slowly backing towards the door.

Pablo's face fell, pain written all over it. His hand reached for you, but you recoiled, every instinct telling you to run.

“No, don't touch me” your voice was rough, barely a whisper, but it was enough to make him freeze in place, feeling hurt.

"I'm sorry, okay?" his voice broke. “Please, you have to believe me. I love you, Y/N! Alice is just a friend” he said, contrite.

Your chest ached, the pain was unbearable.

"How could you love me and still do that? How could you let her take control like that? How could you let me feel like that, like I wasn't enough?" you threw out everything that was on your heart.

Pablo flinched as if the words physically hurt him. He stepped closer, but you shook your head violently, backing away.

"No, Pablo. You don't understand. I'm not second choice. I'm not a spare. I'm your girlfriend. I shouldn't even be competing for your attention! I'm the one who counts, not her!" you screamed, desperate and angry.

His jaw clenched, anger flashed in his eyes for a moment, but then it turned into something much worse, regret and helplessness.

“Y/N, please... I didn't want this to happen” a tear rolled down his cheek.

“I don't care what you meant” you blurted out, raising your voice, pouring out the weight of your broken heart. “I care about what you did. And I can't go on living like this" you choked out.

“Please” he said, his voice breaking, he tried to grab your hand again, but you kept pulling away. “Don't say that. Don't say you're leaving. We can fix this. We can-” you interrupted him.

"No!" you screamed, unable to hold back the surge of emotion. “I can't do this anymore. I'm not going to sit here and watch you fall in love with someone else. I’m not going to be the one you leave” you sobbed, a waterfall of tears falling from your eyes.

He looked at you as if you had just shattered him, his face pale, his eyes wide, a deep, unbearable sadness overwhelming him.

He looked at you as if you had just shattered him, his face pale, his eyes wide, a deep, unbearable sadness overwhelming him.

"Y/N, please don't go. I need you. I love you! Only you!" he screamed in despair, he felt his world collapsing.

You shook your head, your heart breaking in a way you never thought possible.

"You should have thought about it sooner. I'm done" you choked out, turning your back to him.

You couldn't look at him anymore. Not with the suffocating weight of everything unspoken between the two of you. Not with the reality of what he did.

You grabbed your coat, the material like a barrier between you and the raw pain that twisted in your chest. Once you ran out of his house, you didn't look back. You couldn't. You couldn't bear the sight of him, standing there, broken.

After you closed the door, Pablo fell to his knees, burying his face in his hands. He began to sob, feeling his chest sink and his heart clenching in pain. He couldn't believe what had just happened. You left him.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

The next day was a suffocating void. Silence. She was pushing from all sides. You haven't heard anything from Pablo. The thought of hearing his voice pained you. Of course you missed him. You couldn't believe that everything fell apart in just a few minutes.

The awkward tension of trying to make sense of it all made your skin crawl. But you couldn't stop thinking about the article, about Alice, about the distance growing between you and the person you thought you knew, the person you loved.

"Maybe you overreacted?" you thought. Maybe it wasn't as bad as you thought. But you couldn't shake the gnawing feeling in your stomach. Jealousy twisted inside you, something deep and primal that you couldn't push away, no matter how hard you tried.

Hours passed. Pablo called once. Then the second one. Tenth. But you couldn't bring yourself to answer. You didn't want to listen to his explanations, you didn't want to hear him tell you that everything would be fine, that Alice was just a friend. You couldn't stand it anymore.

Only late in the evening, when night had already fallen, you heard a knock on the door. Hesitantly, you opened it, but there was no mistaking the pain in his eyes when he saw you standing there, red-eyed, shaking.

“Y/N” Pablo said quietly, his voice full of emotion.

His usual confident demeanor was gone, replaced with something raw, something real.

“I need to talk to you. I'm here to fix it. Please” he begged, Pablo’s voice firm but gentle, his hands trembling and his gaze softening as he looked at you.

You crossed your arms but didn't look away. The wound in your heart still hurt, but there was something in his eyes that made you want to listen.

“I don't know if there's anything else to say, Pablo” you said quietly.

“Please” he said again, his voice cracking.

You hesitated, but you let him into your apartment, and when you closed the door, he immediately turned to you.

"I know I messed up. I should have made you feel safe. I should have shown you that you were everything to me, and instead I let you doubt. I let her get in the way" he said.

You took a shaky breath, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall.

“I don't know how to trust you again” you whispered, your voice was fragile, you were on the verge of tears. The pain still too fresh to ignore.

Pablo's gaze softened and he took a small step towards you, his eyes pleading.

“Y/N, I never wanted to make you feel like the second option. I love you. I love you so much. You are my whole world. Alice, she is nothing. Just a friend. But I was stupid and let my actions speak louder than my words. I'm very sorry, it will never happen again" he said in a desperate voice.

His words hit you like a tidal wave and for a moment you couldn't breathe. He took another step closer, extending his hand, but you pulled back, not ready to give him that much more. You had to listen to him first, he understood.

"I need to hear you say it, Pablo. I need to know that you're not just saying it because you don't want to lose me. I need to know that you're serious. You need to prove to me that I'm the one you want" You hoped that everything would work out.

He nodded slowly, his eyes shining with emotion.

"I need you, Y/N. I will do whatever it takes to make things right. If you want time, I will give it to you. If you want space, I will stay away. But I will never stop fighting for you" he looked deep into your eyes, and sincerity shone from his warm brown eyes.

The sensitivity in his voice shattered something inside you. He wasn't perfect and maybe there will always be insecurities, there will always be moments of doubt, but the love in his eyes was real. The sincerity in his words was too strong to ignore.

“I believe you” you finally whispered, the weight in your chest lifting just a little. “But it won't be easy, Pablo. It will take some time” you said quietly but gently.

He smiled softly, a small, broken smile, but it was enough.

"I know. And I'll spend every day proving it to you" he announced.

You took a deep breath and without thinking, closed the distance between the two of you. His arms immediately wrapped around you, holding you tightly, desperately, as if he was afraid you might slip away from him again.

You felt his warmth, his steady heartbeat, and for the first time in days, you allowed yourself to believe in him again. For the first time in what seemed like forever, you saw the real Pablo. The one who was a man who made mistakes but tried, really tried to fix it.

“I love you, Y/N” Pablo murmured into your ear, his voice full of emotion. “I love you more than anything” he whispered.

You clung to him, burying your face in his chest, your fingers gripping the fabric of his sweatshirt as a sob escaped your throat.

"I love you too, Pablo. But I need you to show it to me. Every day. Not just with words" you sobbed, and he stroked your hair soothingly.

"I will" he promised in a firm voice. "I will, I swear" he said with tears in his eyes, but with relief in his heart that you gave him a second chance.

And in that moment, as his arms held you tighter, you realized that love wasn't perfect. It wasn't always smooth. But it was worth fighting for. And you knew, deep inside, that despite the pain, despite the suffering, you and Pablo had something worth saving.

"I never, ever wanted to hurt you. I'm sorry I didn't do enough to calm you down back then. I love you, mi vida, and I'm not going anywhere" he spoke again after a short silence.

You swallow hard, feeling tears begin to form.

"I'm sorry too. I should have trusted you. My jealousy got the best of me. I don't want to lose you over something so stupid" you said, your voice broken.

Pablo took your hand and squeezed it gently.

“You won't lose me. I promise. I'm always here for you and I won't let anything come between us, neither gossip nor uncertainty. It's just you and me, okay?” he asked, pulling away slightly to look into your eyes.

You nodded, then snuggled into his chest again as he held you tightly in his arms and kissed the top of your head. The tension was starting to melt away. Healing takes time, but you both knew you could handle it. Because you had each other and that was all that mattered.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

In the following weeks, everything slowly returned to normal. Pablo tried to show you how much he loved you, always putting you first, always assuring you that you were the one he wanted. Alice was still nearby, but you no longer felt threatened. You learned to trust him again, and he learned to be more open with you, no longer allowing misunderstandings to build up.

One evening, you and Pablo were sitting on the couch in his living room. The night was quiet, and the faint hum of the city was barely audible through the open window. You spent hours talking, really talking about everything that was weighing on your hearts. Misunderstanding with Alice, jealousy, doubts. You were finally starting to feel like the distance between you was closing.

Pablo turned to you, his gaze soft but intense. The way he looked at you now was different, full of love, sincerity, and something that made you feel a sense of relief in your chest. He was so patient with you, so understanding. He apologized to you countless times, reassured you time and time again, but it was his actions, not just his words, that made you feel that everything would be okay.

You felt a little shy under his intense gaze, but your heart was full. The air between you was heavy, not from tension, but from something much more powerful.

"But are you sure?" you asked again, your voice barely audible above a whisper. “That it was just me? That you love me and that I am the one you want?” you asked, still unsure at some points.

He nodded, smiling at you, his hand slowly reaching up to cup your cheek gently.

"Always you, Y/N. Only you. I can't imagine life without you. I've never been more sure of anything than this" he confessed, his eyes shining with pure sincerity and unimaginable love for you.

A lump formed in your throat, your heart swelling at his words. You were so scared, so unsure, but now it all made sense. Pablo loved you, more than you could ever imagine. Now you knew it deep in your bones.

“You mean everything to me, Y/N” he murmured, his thumb gently brushing your skin. “I never want to hurt you again” he said firmly.

You closed your eyes for a moment, leaning into his touch, allowing yourself to feel the warmth of his presence. Then, opening your eyelids slightly without thinking, you leaned forward slightly, closing the distance between you and Pablo.

The world seemed to stop, and when your lips met his, everything inside you ignited. At first it was gentle, shy, almost as if he was asking for permission. But you deepened the kiss, your hands reaching up to touch his face, your fingers combing through his hair as you pulled him closer.

His lips tasted of relief and love, and in that kiss you could feel the weight of everything you had been through together. The jealousy, the misunderstandings, the pain, all of it melted away, replaced by an undeniable connection between the two of you, a longing. There was no longer any room for doubt, no room for uncertainty. It was just the two of you, wrapped in this moment of pure love.

When you finally pulled away, your foreheads rested against each other, both of you out of breath. You smiled to each other, your heart racing, but uncertainty still crept into your mind.

“I was afraid, Pablo” you finally whispered, feeling bad for interrupting the romantic moment. “I was afraid that I wasn't enough for you, that you would find someone better, someone who wouldn't be so insecure. And then there was Alicia, always around, always so perfect. And the rumors, my God, the rumors… They made me think I was losing you” tears of terror gathered in your eyes again.

Pablo's face softened as he sat even closer to you, his hand reaching for yours.

"You'll never lose me, Y/N. I promise. I'm not perfect, but I know I love you. I want to be with you, always. You are more than enough and I will do anything to make you feel safe, to make you trust me again" he stroked with his thumb your hand.

You looked at him for a long moment, your heart pounding in your chest. And then you slowly walked into his arms, letting him hold you tightly.

“I'm sorry again, too” you said quietly. “I should have trusted you more. I was just so scared...” you whispered.

“It's okay” he whispered, kissing the top of your head. “We'll get through this together. We always do this” he rubbed your back.

“I love you, cariño” you said softly, a smile curving your lips.

"I love you more, mi amor" Pablo replied, his voice equally quiet but full of promise.

And when he kissed you again, this time with more passion and confidence, you knew everything would be okay.

There were no more doubts, no more fears. You learned that love requires vulnerability, and sometimes even the strongest relationships have to go through a storm before they can shine brighter.

You were his and he was yours and nothing or no one could change that.

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

❦ - the alchemy

summary:: jamal wins bundesliga with his girl by his side.

warnings:: none!

writers note:: expect this series to be done today!! bc these are concerningly easy to write esp when you have the idea clear in your mind! i was gonna make it that he won ucl as per @hearts4musiala request but i’m a culer so that doesn’t work w me.. 😔.

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

The stadium was alive with chaos, golden confetti falling like a storm, the roar of fans echoing through the Allianz Arena. Jamal Musiala stood in the middle of it all, his hands clutching the Bundesliga trophy, the weight of it almost surreal. This moment had been everything he’d worked for, dreamed of, but somehow it felt even better because you were here.

You watched him from the sidelines, beaming, your chest swelling with pride. He’d worked so hard for this. You’d seen every late night, every self-doubt he barely let himself voice, and every time he pushed himself beyond what you thought was possible. Now, as he stood at the center of glory, you could see it in his eyes, the quiet disbelief, the golden glow of triumph.

He found you instantly in the crowd. His eyes softened in the way they always did when he looked at you, like you were the only thing grounding him in the chaos. Without thinking, you pushed through the barriers, weaving past teammates and staff who barely noticed your presence in the delirium of celebration.

When you reached him, Jamal didn’t say a word. He pulled you in, one hand still clutching the trophy while the other found your waist, holding you tightly against him. His forehead fell to yours, and for a moment, it was just the two of you, the noise of the world fading into the background.

‘You did it,’ you whispered, your voice catching.

‘We did it,’ he murmured back, his voice low and soft.

You shook your head, tears threatening to spill. ‘This was all you.’

He laughed under his breath, pressing a kiss to your temple. ‘Couldn’t have done it without you.’

You knew he meant it. The nights he’d called you after a bad game, the moments he felt the weight of the world on his shoulders; you’d been there. But this wasn’t about you. It was about him, about the magic he created every time he stepped onto the pitch.

‘Proud of you, Jam,’ you said, your voice barely audible over the noise.

His smile grew, but there was something else in his eyes, something tender and unspoken. ‘Feels like alchemy, doesn’t it?’ he said.

You blinked at him, confused.

‘All the doubt, the pain; turning it into this,’ he explained, lifting the trophy slightly. ‘It’s like gold. It’s like… us.’

Your chest ached at the way he said it. At how easily he compared this golden moment to the love you’d built together.

You kissed him then, soft and fleeting, the kind of kiss that didn’t need words. The world cheered around you, but Jamal only kissed you back, as if this was the real win of the night.

And maybe it was.

Hiii! I have a joão request, this may be a little too out there but if you’re comfortable enough with writing ab joão and the reader having a one night and end up with an accidental pregnancy?

❦ - ours.

summary:: nothing really goes to plan. and your offspring definitely wasn’t a plan either.

warnings:: implies previous activities… ones that i can’t write bc im not of age but yk!

writers notes:: anyways so like i made the lovely @cherryloveshs do the moodboards for this fic and for some reason the only context i gave her was ‘joao didn’t wrap before he tapped’ so this fic is a surprise for her 💔. IF YOU WANT A PART 2, MY REQS ARE OPEN FOR THAT

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

it was supposed to be a one time thing.

you told yourself that the morning after, when you slipped out of his apartment before the sun had fully risen. you told yourself that again two weeks later, when your chest felt tight every time you thought about him.

you weren’t dating. it was never serious. it wasn’t supposed to mean anything.

but then you missed your period.

then the nausea started.

then the two pink lines stared back at you.

you sat on your bathroom floor, test in hand, heart racing so loud you could barely hear your own thoughts.

pregnant.

with joão’s baby.

you didn’t even know how to tell him. he was focused on his career, training, matches, traveling constantly. you hadn’t even spoken since that night. a few texts here and there. polite. short. distant.

but this? this wasn’t something you could hide.

so you texted him.

can we talk?

his response was almost immediate.

of course. you okay?

you stared at the screen for a long time before replying.

not really. can you come over?

he showed up at your door half an hour later, hoodie pulled over his head, hair slightly messy like he’d rushed straight out.

‘hey,’ he said, eyes scanning your face like he was already worried. ‘what’s going on?’

you stepped aside and let him in, your hands trembling slightly. he noticed, of course he did.

‘you’re freaking me out,’ he said gently. ‘what is it?’

you sat down on the edge of the couch, trying to steady your voice.

‘i don’t really know how to say this,’ you started. ‘but… i’m pregnant.’

he blinked. once. twice.

you watched as the words settled in, slow but heavy.

‘what?’ he asked, voice quiet. not in disbelief, just trying to make sure he heard you right.

‘i’m pregnant, joão. it’s yours. from that night.’

he sat down across from you, elbows on his knees, hands folded tightly.

‘okay,’ he said. just that. no anger, no denial. just calm acceptance.

‘okay?’ you echoed, confused. ‘you’re not… mad?’

‘no,’ he said, meeting your eyes. ‘scared? yeah. shocked? yeah. but not mad.’

you swallowed. ‘i didn’t plan this. i swear, i wasn’t trying to trap you or anything—’

‘hey,’ he interrupted gently, scooting closer. ‘i know. and neither of us planned it. but that doesn’t mean i’m walking away.’

you blinked, tears stinging your eyes.

‘you’re not?’

‘of course not,’ he said, reaching for your hand. ‘it might’ve been a one-night thing, but you’re not just some girl to me. and this—’ he gently touched your stomach, ‘—this is ours. we’ll figure it out together.’

you looked at him, really looked at him. the way his jaw was set like he was already taking responsibility. the worry in his eyes, but also something softer.

something kind. something real.

‘i don’t want to do this alone,’ you whispered.

‘you won’t,’ he promised. ‘i’m here. for you and the baby. every step of the way.’

and when he pulled you into a hug, warm and steady and safe, you believed him.

because maybe it wasn’t how things were supposed to happen. but maybe, just maybe, it was how they were meant to.

it had been three weeks since you told joão.

and in those three weeks, he hadn’t missed a single doctor’s appointment.

he texted you every morning ‘how are you feeling today?’ and every night ‘do you need anything?.’ he read every article, asked questions about everything, and kept showing up with random things like ginger tea, prenatal vitamins, and the softest blanket you’d ever felt.

he wasn’t just present. he was trying.

but still, it was complicated.

you weren’t together. there were feelings, sure, lingering glances, quiet comfort, a weird kind of softness that had always existed between you, but neither of you had said anything about what this all meant.

so you existed in this weird space. almost something. not quite.

and that space felt even smaller one evening when he showed up at your apartment, carrying a small bag of groceries in one hand and a folded piece of paper in the other.

‘brought snacks,’ he said casually, walking in like it had always been his place to.

‘you don’t have to keep doing this,’ you told him, even though you didn’t mean it.

he raised an eyebrow. ‘you say that, but i know you’re running low on those strawberry ice cream bars.’

you blinked. ‘how do you know that?’

‘you texted me yesterday at 2 a.m. “strawberry. gone. sadness.”’

you snorted. ‘okay, fair.’

he grinned, dropping the bag on the counter before holding out the folded paper.

‘what’s this?’

‘list of baby names,’ he said, casually like he hadn’t just handed you the thing that sent your heart into orbit.

you opened it slowly.

some names were simple. a few were portuguese. some were… definitely football inspired.

‘did you really put “ronaldo” on here?’ you asked.

‘just for fun,’ he said, already smirking. ‘but i put your last name first. figured the baby should have both.’

you went quiet at that, the weight of it hitting you in a way that words couldn’t quite carry.

‘joão…’

he turned serious almost instantly, stepping closer, his voice quieter now.

‘i know it’s not what we planned,’ he said. ‘i know we weren’t supposed to end up here. but we are. and i don’t want to just… be the guy who shows up every now and then. i want to be there. really be there.’

your heart thudded in your chest.

‘are you saying that just for the baby?’ you asked, voice small.

he hesitated for half a second.

then, softly: ‘no. i’m saying that because of you.’

you looked up, eyes meeting his. and in that moment, it wasn’t confusing anymore. it wasn’t just fear or responsibility or doing the right thing.

it was real.

‘i want to try,’ he said. ‘not just to be a dad. but with you. if you’ll let me.’

and suddenly, the weird in-between space you’d been living in didn’t feel so cold or lonely anymore.

you nodded slowly, heart full.

‘okay,’ you whispered. ‘we try.’

and when he pulled you into his arms, hands gentle over the curve of your still-flat stomach, it felt like maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t the wrong timing.

maybe it was just the beginning