Hii!! I Just Want To Say That I'm Absolutely Addicted To Your Stories. Honestly, They've Become The Best

Pablo Gavi (FCBarcelona) - Ugly Sweater

Day 25 of Christmas

Prompt: Ugly Sweater Contest

25 Days Of Christmas

Happy Christmas!

The camera zooms in on the bustling training ground of FC Barcelona. The players are gathered for a unique challenge, and the atmosphere is electric with excitement. Pablo Gavi and Y/n Y/l/n are at the center of it all, surrounded by an array of colorful fabric paints, glitters, and other crafting materials scattered across a large table. “Hola culers, I am Y/n Y/l/n, here with Pablo Gavi and we are here to see who can make the ugliest Christmas jumper.”

“Vamos, Y/n!” Pablo exclaims, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Who do you think is going to make the ugliest jumper?” Y/n rolls her eyes playfully, a grin spreading across her face. “Please, Pablo. You’re the king of ugly. I’m just here to help you look good for once”

“Yo y lo feo no deberíamos estar en la misma frase. A veces me sorprendes, Y/n.” He responds with a laugh, grabbing a neon green paint. “This is going to be epic!” Y/n couldn't help but laugh at the new word he learned just earlier that week: epic. As they dive into the challenge, they begin painting and glueing random materials onto their sweaters. Y/n grabs a handful of googly eyes, sticking them haphazardly all over her sweater. “Mira, Pablo. Un monstruo.” She declares, giggling. Pablo, not one to be outdone, quickly snatches a handful of bright pink feathers. “Ves esto? I’ll make a flamingo sweater. Que original.”

“Original? Creo que quieres decir horrible.” Y/n teases, sticking a paintbrush covered in blue paint into his hair. “Ese es el punto de este desafío, no?” The crew laughed behidn the camera as Pablo tried dodging the paint, but failing miserably. “Oh my god, I am so sorry!” Y/n laughed, not meaning to actually paint his hair. Pablo laughs, attempting to swipe the paint off his head but only making it worse. “You’re going to regret that, Y/n. Just wait until I win this challenge!”

As the clock counts down, they both put the finishing touches on their creations. Pablo, with a shirt that looks like a flamboyant bird’s nest, and Y/n, with a monstrous creation covered in eyes and glitter. “Okay, time’s up! Muestra tu suéter!” Yhe crew shouts, eager to see their creations. They step back, proudly displaying their sweaters. Pablo poses dramatically, striking a pose that makes the crew burst into laughter. “Mira esto! El más feo del mundo!” He declares. “More like the most ridiculous.” Y/n laughs, sticking her tongue out at him. They both turn to the camera, their playful rivalry shining through.

“Okay, final round is a catwalk.” Y/n says, glancing at Pablo with a mischievous glint in her eyes. As they both momentarily turned around to put their jumpers on, the crew let out a few quiet laughs. They counted down from 3 and turned to face eachother, looking one another up and down. Y/n hummed. “You know, it’s hard to have an ugly sweater when you have a face like that.” She gestures playfully at him, her words laced with flirtation. Pablo’s cheeks turn a deep shade of red, and the crew erupts in laughter. “No te rías de mí!” He protests, trying to hide his embarrassment. But his playful smile gives him away.

“Sorry, Pablito, but you really can’t help it.” Y/n adds, leaning closer as she pretends to inspect his sweater. “Qué dices? I’m handsome?” He grins, his blush deepens. “Pero, mi suéter es más feo.” Y/n scoffs. “Más feo? Have you seen mine?” Y/n raises an eyebrow, unable to contain her laughter. “I think you've lost this challenge, guapo.”

“Alright, alright! Let’s just let the viewers decide who’s the winner.” Pablo says, regaining his composure, but the smile never leaves his face. “But we both know it’s going to be me.”

❦ - el mar, el sol y mi corazón

summary:: a day at the beach w your man (up to you if you’re married or not) and your little son as he tries to teach him how to use a kite. (i tried to make chat gpt summarise the fic for me but they ended up calling gavi a dilf?? bros 20)

warnings:: none!

writers note:: this is shorter than it should be mainly bc it was supposed to be a joao fic but i have sum else for him. ALSO GUYS GIVE ME REQ MY BRAIN ISNT FUNCTIONING RN.

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

gavi had always loved the beach, the salty breeze, the sound of waves crashing, the warmth of the sun on his skin. but today, it wasn’t just the ocean drawing his attention; it was the sight of your son sprinting across the sand, his tiny feet kicking up clouds of grains as he chased after a colorful kite.

'papá, look!' your son called, holding up the string as the kite wobbled in the sky.

gavi grinned, jogging over to help. 'hold it steady, campeón. like this.' he crouched down, guiding his son’s small hands. together, they managed to get the kite soaring higher, both of them laughing when the wind tugged it wildly.

you watched from a beach towel, sunglasses perched on your nose and a smile tugging at your lips. seeing gavi like this, barefoot in the sand, hair tousled, eyes crinkled with joy, was something you’d never get tired of. he looked up and caught your gaze, flashing you that grin that always made your heart flip.

'hey!' he called. 'you coming or just gonna admire me from there?'

'bit of both,' you shot back with a smirk, standing to shake off the sand before joining them.

after a while, your son abandoned the kite in favor of the ocean. gavi chased after him, scooping him up just before a wave could crash into his legs. 'too fast for me, huh?' he teased, spinning him around as your son squealed with delight.

'papá, again! again!'

'third time’s the charm,' gavi grinned, twirling him once more before gently setting him down. your son ran back toward the water, kicking at the incoming waves, tiny giggles echoing over the beach.

'he’s got your energy,' you commented, slipping an arm around gavi’s waist.

'yeah, but i don’t remember being that fast at his age,' gavi chuckled, pressing a kiss to your hairline.

after splashing around until your son’s shorts were soaked and his curls clung to his forehead, you coaxed him back to the sand with the promise of snacks. he plopped down on the towel beside you, cheeks flushed and eyes bright. 'best day ever,' he declared between bites of his sandwich.

gavi ruffled his hair. 'glad you’re having fun, campeón.'

after eating, the three of you set out to build a sandcastle. your son insisted it had to have "four towers and a moat," which turned into an ambitious (and messy) endeavor. gavi got way too competitive, carefully smoothing out the castle walls, tongue poking out in concentration.

'you do know it’s just for fun, right?' you teased.

'hey, if we’re building a castle, we’re making it the best one on this beach,' gavi shot back, flicking a bit of sand at you playfully.

your son cackled. 'get mamá!'

gavi grinned devilishly. 'you heard him.' before you could protest, both of them teamed up, tossing handfuls of sand (mostly missing but making you laugh until your sides hurt).

when everyone was sufficiently sandy and the "biggest castle ever" stood proudly (if a little crooked), you lay back on the towel, sighing contentedly. gavi dropped beside you, pulling your son into the space between you both.

'tired yet?' gavi asked, brushing hair from your son’s forehead.

'nooo,' he mumbled, though his eyes betrayed him, drooping with exhaustion.

'liar,' you chuckled.

as the sun began to sink lower, painting the sky in hues of gold and pink, your son fell asleep nestled against gavi’s chest, tiny fingers still clutching a stray seashell. gavi’s hand traced slow circles on his back, eyes soft.

'he’ll sleep all the way home,' you murmured.

'good. means we can blast music without him demanding his cartoons,' gavi joked, but his voice was gentle, gaze fixed on your son’s peaceful face.

you rested your head on gavi’s shoulder, your hand finding his. 'days like this...' you sighed. 'they’re the best.'

'yeah,' gavi agreed, squeezing your hand. 'nothing better.'

as the waves rolled in and the sky deepened into twilight, the three of you stayed there a little longer, sun-kissed, sand-covered, hearts full.

fuck racism .

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

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

I hope you racist fucks have a horrible year !!

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

can I request a fluff where reader is Pedri’s twin sister and her boyfriend gets her pregnant, but leaves, and so reader moves in with Pedri and Fer in their house and basically it’s just Pedri trying to figure out how to take care of his niece? thank youuuu 😀

❦ - complicated.

warnings:: none?

writers notes:: so as it seems, actually i DO have more fics that ive been sorta avoiding js bc these have been in my inbox for longer but i have started on them! so for marc bernal, joao felix, xavi simons and omar marmoush, you have to wait baby

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

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you had never expected your life to take such a turn. just a few months ago, you were living your life like any normal young woman, full of plans and dreams. then came the news, you were pregnant, and the father of your child, the one you thought would be there, walked away without a second glance. it wasn’t how you imagined things would go, but here you were, ready to raise a child on your own.

except you weren’t alone.

your twin brother, pedri, made sure of that. when you needed somewhere to stay, he opened his arms and his home to you. he insisted you move in with him, giving you a safe place to stay as you navigated this unexpected chapter in your life. pedri, especially, never hesitated. despite his busy career and lifestyle, he made it clear that his family always came first.

as the weeks passed, you found yourself adjusting to your new reality. the emotional rollercoaster of being pregnant was hard enough, but then there were all the practical things you never thought about, how to handle the sickness, the exhaustion, the constant worrying about your future and your baby. but through it all, you had pedri by your side.

pedri, especially, had always been the one to take care of you. no matter what you needed, no matter how much of a mess you were in, he was always there. but now, with a baby on the way, he was taking his role of “uncle pedri” to a whole new level.

one afternoon, pedri walked into the living room, looking unusually serious. you were sitting on the couch, your hand resting on your belly, feeling the baby move inside. he stood there for a moment, looking like he was trying to figure something out.

‘so,’ he said, his voice hesitant, ‘i’ve been thinking. we need to figure out how to take care of her when she’s here.’

you raised an eyebrow, glancing up at him. ‘you? take care of her?’

pedri plopped down on the couch beside you, looking more than a little nervous. ‘i mean… i’m her uncle, right? i have to help, but i don’t really know what to do. i’ve never… well, i’ve never had to take care of a baby before. like, really take care of one.’

you couldn’t help but smile at his nervousness. ‘it’s okay, you’ll figure it out. it’s not as hard as it seems, i promise. she’ll need the basics, like diapers, bottles… and a whole lot of love.’

he nodded, clearly relieved but still uncertain. ‘diapers, got it. bottles, no problem. but what about… i don’t know, when she cries or when she’s upset? how do i know what to do?’

you chuckled softly, giving him a reassuring look. ‘you’ll know. it’s all about listening to her. babies are just… they’re a lot of work, but they’re also so simple. when she’s hungry, you feed her. when she’s tired, you let her sleep. when she’s fussy, you just hold her until she feels better. i promise, you’ll pick it up.’

pedri looked a little more relaxed, but the concern was still there. he placed a hand on your shoulder, his voice soft. ‘i just want to make sure i’m doing everything right. for you, and for her.’

you smiled warmly at him, your heart swelling with gratitude. ‘you’re already doing great, pedri. just being here for me is all i could ask for.’

the weeks passed, and pedri became more and more involved in the preparations for your baby. he went from asking about diaper brands to learning how to swaddle a baby, and he never hesitated to ask you questions whenever he was unsure. it was endearing to watch him step into his role as an uncle, and it made your heart ache to know how much he cared.

one night, as you were sitting at the kitchen table, preparing a late night snack, pedri walked in, looking exhausted but still with that familiar warmth in his eyes. he leaned against the counter, watching you as you worked.

‘you okay?’ he asked softly.

you looked up at him and smiled, but this time, there was a hint of vulnerability in your gaze. ‘yeah, i’m fine. just… i don’t know, it’s a lot sometimes, you know?’

pedri’s face softened, and he moved to sit next to you. ‘hey, i’m here. we’re in this together, remember? i’m gonna make sure you have everything you need, and i’m gonna be the best uncle i can be. you don’t have to do this alone.’

his words hit you right in the chest, and you felt your eyes water. you’d never known how much you needed to hear those words until now. pedri wasn’t just being an amazing brother, he was being the support you needed, and you were so grateful for it.

‘thank you,’ you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. ‘you don’t know how much this means to me.’

pedri gave you a small, reassuring smile. ‘i’m your twin, y/n. i’ll always be here for you. always.’

you hugged him tightly, feeling the weight of everything start to lift, knowing that with pedri by your side, you weren’t alone anymore. together, you would figure this out, and nothing could take away the bond you shared.

epilogue::

a few months had passed since the day you moved in with pedri. the baby was almost here, and your life had started to settle into a routine, a new normal that you were slowly growing accustomed to. pedri had been everything you needed, more than just a brother, he was your rock, and he had truly stepped up to be the best uncle.

the day you had been anticipating had finally come. the hospital room was a whirlwind of activity, but all you could focus on was the tiny little life you were about to meet. pedri, as always, was right there by your side, holding your hand through every contraction, whispering words of encouragement, and making you laugh when you felt like crying.

after what felt like an eternity, your daughter was born, small, fragile, but perfect. you held her in your arms for the first time, tears brimming in your eyes as you stared at the miracle in front of you.

pedri stood by your side, his eyes wide with awe as he looked at the baby. he gently leaned down and kissed your forehead, his voice soft. ‘she’s perfect, y/n. you did it. we did it.’

you smiled up at him, the exhaustion from labor suddenly fading away as the overwhelming love for your little girl filled your heart. ‘we did it,’ you echoed, your voice shaky with emotion. ‘she’s ours, pedri. we’re gonna be okay.’

the days that followed were filled with sleepless nights, diaper changes, and a lot of learning. but through it all, pedri was there, always willing to help, always ready to step in whenever you needed him. he wasn’t just an uncle anymore, he was a protector, a guide, and most of all, a constant source of support for both you and your daughter.

one evening, as you were sitting on the couch, holding your baby, pedri came in from the kitchen with a bottle of water and a smile on his face. ‘hey,’ he said, sitting beside you. ‘how’s my little niece doing?’

you looked down at your daughter, who was peacefully sleeping in your arms. ‘she’s perfect,’ you said softly. ‘and so are you.’

pedri laughed and shook his head. ‘no, i’m just trying to keep up. i don’t know how you do it, y/n. you’re amazing.’

you leaned your head on his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his support and love. ‘i couldn’t do it without you, pedri. you’re the best brother anyone could ask for. you’re not just an uncle, you’re a father figure to her too.’

pedri’s expression softened, his eyes tender. ‘i’m just glad i could be here for you. for both of you.’

the days turned into weeks, and as the months passed, you began to see how much pedri’s bond with his niece grew. he wasn’t just an uncle in title, he was her protector, her playmate, and her biggest supporter. watching the two of them together, laughing and bonding over simple moments, made your heart swell with pride. pedri had become everything you knew he would be, an amazing brother and an even more amazing uncle.

life had a way of surprising you, but one thing was for certain, no matter what happened, you would always have your twin brother by your side. and together, you would continue to write this new chapter in your lives, full of love, laughter, and the joy of having a family that stuck together through thick and thin.

as you sat with pedri, watching your daughter sleep peacefully in your arms, you realized that despite the challenges, you were never really alone. you had the family you needed, and nothing could take that away from you.

i said i was gonna spam but i ran out of ideas so i'm gonna come back when i get more xx

take ur time bae i love you bro ur giving me life 🙏

can you make a story about Marc and reader, where he teases her about the height difference

❦ - short n sweet.

summary:: you didn’t choose to be short. but marc chose you. so therefore he can’t complain you’re short! but he does 💔.

warnings:: none!?

writers note:: lowkey gonna spam bc i always write my fics in my notes bc tumblr deletes drafts and i’ve written sm all i need to do is format 👅.

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

you weren’t even sure how the conversation started. one moment, you were waiting for him outside the training grounds, minding your business, and the next, marc was teasing you relentlessly about your height.

‘can you even see over the dashboard when you drive?’ he smirked, looking down at you as you both walked toward his car.

you rolled your eyes. ‘yes, marc. i don’t need a booster seat.’

‘are you sure?’ he nudged your side, laughing. ‘i can get you one, you know. i’ll even make it barca themed.’

‘oh, you’re hilarious,’ you deadpanned, shoving him lightly. it barely did anything, considering he was literally towering over you.

marc had been on this for weeks. every chance he got, he’d make some comment about how much smaller you were compared to him. it wasn’t even like you were that short, he was just unfairly tall.

‘wait, stand next to me for a sec,’ he said, stopping in his tracks.

you groaned. ‘marc—’

‘just for a second,’ he grinned.

you sighed but humored him, standing beside him as he straightened his posture. he looked down at you, then burst out laughing.

‘oh my god, i swear you’re getting shorter.’

you smacked his arm. ‘or maybe you’re just a freakishly tall human being.’

he ignored your insult, clearly enjoying himself. ‘i bet if we took a picture, people would think i’m your bodyguard.’

you gasped. ‘you did not just say that.’

he was dying of laughter at this point, barely able to breathe. ‘no, no, seriously. imagine me in a suit, standing behind you, all serious. people would think i’m protecting you from the paparazzi.’

you groaned dramatically. ‘you’re the worst.’

‘no, you’re the worst,’ he shot back playfully, slinging an arm around your shoulders with ease. ‘but it’s okay, i still like you, even if i have to break my neck looking down at you.’

you huffed, but you couldn’t hide the small smile creeping onto your lips. ‘you’re so lucky i like you too, otherwise i’d trip you in the locker room.’

he grinned. ‘i’d like to see you try, shorty.’

and just like that, the teasing continued.

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.

could you please please please write a cute fic about joão x reader and it’s like reader is graduating university or something but joão has a game so he can’t make it so then reader is annoyed at his but he ends up ditching his game for her🥺😫

love your writing so much!!!!

❦ - priorities.

summary:: atp i’m gonna stop summarising it bc the req is lit the summary 💔.

warnings:: none

writers note:: i’m not writing these in order i’m lit doing in in whatever’s easiest bc i have LOADS in my drafts that i need to finish but im setting it aside bc it’s ramadan

tags:: @barcapix @n0vazsq @httpsdana @paucubarsisimp

the moment you saw the text, your heart sank.

joão: babe, i’m so sorry, but i can’t make it to your graduation.

you stared at your phone, reading the message over and over, hoping it would somehow change.

you knew this was a possibility. football was his career, his life, and sometimes that meant missing important things. but this? this wasn’t just anything. this was your day. the one day you wanted him there more than anything.

you: seriously?
you: joão, this is my graduation.

three dots appeared. then disappeared. then reappeared again.

joão: i know, amor. i hate this. but it’s an important game.

you clenched your jaw, shoving your phone into your pocket before you said something you’d regret.

fine. whatever.

if he wanted to put football first, that was his choice.

but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

you went through the motions, getting dressed, fixing your cap, taking photos with your family, but your heart wasn’t in it. the whole time, you kept thinking about how there should’ve been an extra seat saved for joão. how he should’ve been there, cheering for you, smiling at you with that proud look he always got when you accomplished something big.

instead, he was miles away, playing a game that would happen a hundred more times, while you only graduated once.

but fine. fine.

you weren’t going to let this ruin your day.

except.

when you walked onto the stage, shaking hands, accepting your diploma, when you looked out into the crowd, scanning the faces,

you saw him.

right there, sitting between your parents, looking slightly out of breath but beaming at you like you’d just won the champions league.

your steps faltered. for a second, you thought you were imagining it. but no—he was there.

your stomach flipped. your heart pounded. and then you had to keep moving, walking off the stage, back to your seat, your mind reeling the entire time.

he ditched his game.

for you.

after the ceremony, you found him before he could find you.

‘you’re insane,’ you said, staring at him.

joão grinned. ‘nice to see you too, grad.’

‘joão.’ you crossed your arms. ‘you had a game.’

‘yeah,’ he shrugged. ‘but you had this.’

your heart melted. ‘but your coach—’

‘will kill me? probably,’ he admitted. ‘but i don’t care. this was more important.’

and just like that, every ounce of frustration you’d felt earlier vanished.

because this was what mattered. not the missed game, not the schedule conflicts—just this. him choosing you.

so instead of arguing, you did what you’d been wanting to do all day.

you kissed him.

right there, in the middle of the crowd, with your diploma still clutched in your hand.

and when you pulled back, breathless, joão just smiled.

‘congrats, amor.’

would you write a Pablo gavi x Supercars!reader and he travels to Australia during one of his breaks to watch her in Bathurst?

❦ - vroom vroom.

warnings:: none

writers notes:: ignore the title i didn’t know what to make it 💔. also my asthmatic ass is dying rn bru im not making it out alive

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

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the weekend sun was hot, beating down on mount panorama, as the bathurst 1000 kicked into full gear. the atmosphere was electric, buzzing with anticipation and the roar of powerful engines echoing through the mountains. spectators lined the track, eyes glued to the high, performance cars tearing around every curve, weaving in and out of the iconic corners.

but amongst the crowd, there was one face you were searching for.

a few days earlier, during one of your brief breaks in between qualifying and race day, you’d received a message from pablo.

‘i’m coming to bathurst. i want to see you race. no more excuses.’

and there it was, the familiar grin on his face even through the phone screen. it was typical pablo, always full of surprises, always there when you needed him most.

now, as you prepared for your final laps in the race, you couldn’t help but steal glances over to the grandstands. your heart was a little lighter knowing he was somewhere out there, waiting for you, even though you had no idea where he’d be.

there were a million thoughts in your head, but one thing was clear: he was here, supporting you, cheering you on like he always did in his quiet, steady way. a part of you felt invincible knowing he was out there, and that alone was enough to push you even harder.

your team was making final adjustments to the car, and as you climbed back into the driver’s seat, you heard the familiar sound of a car engine roar to life from the pit wall. you turned, and there he was.

pablo. he had somehow found his way down to your pit, now standing just a few feet away, a wide grin on his face, looking as though he hadn’t just traveled halfway across the world to see you. he was in his usual casual attire: a hoodie, jeans, and his signature sneakers, but something about seeing him here, at your race, made your heart skip.

‘is this how it’s going to be every time?’ you joked, pulling your helmet down and adjusting your gloves. ‘you’re just going to pop up everywhere i go?’

he laughed, taking a few steps closer, keeping his eyes on you the entire time. ‘i thought i’d try and make an appearance at your biggest race of the season. plus, i’m curious about how you’re going to win this one.’

‘don’t worry,’ you said with a wink, ‘i’ve got this.’

‘just remember, i’m here cheering you on,’ he added, his voice soft but filled with undeniable pride.

his words settled in your chest, and it was almost enough to erase the tension you’d been feeling all week. with him here, it felt like you could take on anything.

the team was signaling for you to head to the starting grid, and with one last glance at pablo, you shot him a quick thumbs-up before stepping into the car. the sound of the engine fired up, and soon, you were on your way.

as you sped through the corners of bathurst, weaving between competitors, every turn was just a little bit sweeter knowing pablo was watching you. he wasn’t just some guy sitting in the grandstands, he was your biggest fan, the one who believed in you when you didn’t believe in yourself.

the race was intense, and with every lap, your confidence grew. you knew the track, the car, and most importantly, you knew you had someone special in your corner. and that thought kept you going.

after a nerve wracking final lap, you crossed the finish line in first place. the roar of the crowd was deafening, but the moment your car came to a stop, you couldn’t wait to take off your helmet and look for one person in particular.

pablo was already at the barriers, waiting for you, his face a mixture of excitement and pride. as you made your way over to him, he opened his arms and enveloped you in a tight hug, lifting you off your feet in the process.

‘you did it! i knew you could!’ he said, his voice full of emotion.

‘i couldn’t have done it without you,’ you whispered back, feeling the weight of the race finally start to leave your shoulders.

you pulled back slightly, looking up at him. there was something in his eyes, something more than just admiration. it was pure love, the kind that came with knowing you better than anyone else.

‘now,’ he said, a mischievous smile creeping onto his lips, ‘i think we deserve a victory celebration. how about we take the rest of the weekend off?’

you laughed, feeling the exhaustion start to catch up with you. ‘i like that idea.’

epilogue::


a few days later, you and pablo found yourselves relaxing in a quiet corner of a rooftop bar, overlooking the stunning sydney skyline. bathurst was behind you, but the adrenaline of the race was still coursing through your veins. you leaned back into his arms, your head resting on his shoulder, the sounds of the city mingling with the soft breeze.

‘thanks for being here,’ you said, your voice full of gratitude. ‘it really means a lot.’

‘i wouldn’t be anywhere else,’ he replied, kissing the top of your head gently. ‘you’ve got this fire in you, and i’m just lucky to be here to witness it.’

you smiled up at him, the quiet contentment of the moment filling your heart. ‘so, when’s the next race? i think i can get used to you showing up for all of them.’

pablo grinned, his arms tightening around you. ‘i think i’m going to make it my mission to be at every single one from now on. starting with your next one.’

‘deal.’

and with that, you both relaxed into the evening, knowing that whatever the future held, you’d always have each other.

MAMA MIA DIOS MIOS MADRE MIA 😍

Hey love!

I was wondering if you could write something for Max Verstappen with a super soft, quiet little girlfriend? She’s a chunky little thing, all round and cute, with blonde hair, and she’s just very… pink. Everything about her is soft and feminine—her clothes, her nails, even the way she speaks. She’s also a little dumb (in the most adorable way possible), always getting confused about things, and Max just finds it endearing. Maybe some fluff where he’s super protective over her because people underestimate her a lot? Thank you so much!

Softer than Sakura~Max Verstappen

・❥・prompt list

・❥・motorsports masterlist

・❥・who I write for

・❥・a/n: this HAS to be my fav fic EVER. I love max sm yall don't understand. pls don't let it flop 🙏🏻🙏🏻

She was the total opposite of Max. Opposites attract, they say. Max, the serious, sarcastic Formula One champion, dating her; the short, blonde girl whose whole life was pink and ribbons.

But Max found everything about her so endearing.

The way she got confused over the smallest things, the random questions she asked out of nowhere, and mostly, the way she managed to be the most adorable person when he asked her to go to her first Grand Prix with him: to Japan.

“Well, everything is pink, and it’s all flowers and stuff there. I think you'll like it,” he said softly, his smile unwavering when she jumped up and down before climbing on him.

“Oh my god, yes! I have the perfect outfit for race day. Should I do my nails too? When are we going? Do I have time to pack?” she rambled, unable to hide her excitement, and also nervousness.

Max chuckled, putting his finger on her lips to stop her from talking.

“Don’t worry, schatje. I already booked your nail appointment. We’re leaving Tuesday morning, so you have plenty of time to pack,” he mumbled before brushing his lips over hers.

Max took his headphones off as his engineer finished telling him the new updates on the car. His eyes scanned the garage slowly until they found her.

She stood by the corner, carefully reading the schedule on the paper that was on the wall. The pink ribbon sat perfectly in her blonde hair, while her hands clutched her small bag tightly.

He smiled softly before quietly making his way to her. He sneaked his hands around her waist gently, which made her flinch for a second before relaxing in his arms.

“Maxie,” she mumbled, her eyes still fixed on the paper, her head tilting in confusion.

“Hey, baby,” his fingers brushed against her pink dress as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“I’m confused,” she stated, turning to look up at him. “The schedule says you have media duty from ten till twelve. It’s eleven-thirty now. Are you breaking the rules?” she gasped softly, her voice lowering as if afraid someone might hear her.

Max chuckled, his heart melting at the pure confusion in her expression.

“No, darling. I finished early and had some stuff with the engineers,” he said, making her lips part as realization dawned on her.

“Let’s get you seated in the garage before qualifying,” he gently tugged her hand as he took her to the back of the garage where families and guests usually sat. He helped her up on the stool before handing her one of the big blue headphones.

“For me?” she asked, confused, making him hum.

“It can get loud, so you’ll need it,” he placed it on her neck before brushing her hair away from her face to admire her soft makeup that she always did—the one he always adored.

“But it doesn’t match my outfit,” she frowned, making him laugh with a shake of his head.

“Sweetheart, the sounds are pretty loud. You need it,” he insisted, making her frown deepen even more. He smiled before leaning down to kiss her pout away.

As soon as his lips touched hers, she quickly gasped and pulled away.

“Someone could see us,” she whispered, making him pout.

“Just one?” he asked, leaning in again. He kissed her softly, and she couldn't help but kiss him back.

When he pulled back, he hummed in satisfaction. She opened her eyes and giggled at the sight of him.

“What?” he asked, an amused smile on his lips.

“You’ve got some lip gloss on your lips,” she murmured, reaching over to wipe it off with her thumb.

“Do I look pretty?” he teased while she hummed.

“You always look pretty,” she whispered shyly, making him smile.

“Only because I have you by my side.”

“Hey, where's my girlfriend?” Max asked one of the mechanics, who he saw a while ago talking to her.

“They told her to go to your driver's room after quali. She was asking way too many questions,” he chuckled, expecting Max to laugh with him, except he didn’t. Max scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Yeah? So what? This is her first race and she's still new to everything here,” he said defensively, eyes narrowing as the mechanic started squirming nervously under his intense gaze.

“I-I didn’t mean-” Max interrupted by rolling his eyes.

“Whatever,” he mumbled, already walking away to his room.

He opened the door gently, peeking his head into the room slowly. He saw her sitting there, his plushie, which she had bought him, tucked under her chin while she scrolled through her phone silently.

“Hey baby,” he said softly, afraid to scare her away.

“Hi Maxie,” she mumbled, her voice a bit down and softer than usual, the usual bubbly and excited tone not evident.

His face twisted in anger, knowing that she was upset by something someone had told her.

“What did they say?” he asked calmly, but his fists clenched by his sides as he walked closer to her.

“Mhm, who?” she avoided looking into his eyes, still scrolling on her phone.

Max took the phone gently out of her hand to have her look at him. Her eyes were dull, the usual light in them faded out.

“What did they say?” he asked again, this time more gently.

“Nothing… they just said that I should come here because they can’t stand someone asking so many stupid questions,” she shrugged, but her teary eyes showed how much she was affected.

“Oh darling,” he murmured, pulling her into a hug as he sat next to her. He tucked her head under his chin, securing it by holding the back of her head. His other hand soothed her back, mumbling sweet nothings into her ear to help her calm down.

After a while, her body relaxed more and she let out a sigh into his neck.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, her arms tightening around his torso.

“Don’t be, schatje. They’re assholes who don’t deserve to listen to anything you say. If you have anything to ask, I’ll gladly answer you, even if it was the silliest question,” he said, pulling her head back to look at her.

“I love you,” he held her gaze, his fingers threading through her blonde strands as he spoke.

“I love you more, Maxie,” she said, her smile finally finding its way back to her face.

He held her more in his arms, watching some TikToks with her on her phone, ignoring the fact that he had already skipped two interviews.

She pulled away then, making him look at her, confused.

“So... what does DRS mean?” she asked sheepishly, making him chuckle.

“I’ll tell you everything. Just let me hold you some more, sweetheart.”

my taglist: @barcapix @paucubarsisimp @spidybaby @mxryxmfooty @n0vazsq @joaosnovia @ilovebarcaaaa @f1lover55 @jajajhaahaha @universefcb @mariejuli (lmk if you want to be added!!)