Is There Coming A Part Two Of Love && War?

hi hello! do you write for kieran tierney? if you don’t feel free to ignore this. but if you do can i please request a one shot where they’re talking about the fact that kieran’s moving to celtic at the end of the season and if they’re at a place in their relationship where the reader would move with him and it’s all angsty? hurt/comfort maybe? have a great day!

❦ - moving on.

summary:: moving on is hard, especially when you’re expected to pick everything up and move. not everything goes to plan and life is the best example of that.

warnings:: i don’t think so…

writers notes:: never did i expect to be writing for him but ykw heck yeah 😍. anyways i love writing angst it’s my element i fear, others may disagree but i love it sm

tags:: @barcapix @n0vazsq @httpsdana @paucubarsisimp

the apartment felt quieter than usual. the soft hum of the city outside and the distant buzz of your phone were the only sounds that kept you grounded as you stared out of the window. it had been a long day, and all you wanted was some peace. but that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

kieran’s voice broke through the silence, though it was quieter than usual, almost uncertain. ‘i think i’m really going to go for it. celtic. end of the season.’

the words hung in the air, thick with unspoken tension.

you didn’t turn to face him immediately, afraid that if you did, you’d betray the way your stomach had twisted in response. you felt the air grow heavy with the weight of his decision. he hadn’t exactly asked you what you thought, but you didn’t need him to. you both knew what this meant.

celtic was his home. he’d always spoken of them fondly, of the pride in representing the club that had raised him, that had seen him grow into the man he was today. and now, after everything, after all the time apart, after the struggles, the ups and downs, it was finally happening.

the move.

your heart ached at the thought.

you swallowed hard, trying to steady your voice. ‘it’s... it’s a good opportunity, kieran. for you.’

it sounded almost dismissive, even to your own ears, but you couldn’t make yourself say anything else. because the truth was, a part of you was afraid. afraid that this was the moment that everything would change. that maybe you weren’t ready to let go of what you had here. or that, perhaps, you weren’t ready to follow him into this new chapter of his life.

kieran didn’t respond right away, and you finally turned to face him. he was sitting at the kitchen counter, his eyes fixed on his phone. his shoulders were tense, but his face, his face was the same as always. the face that had smiled at you in countless photos, that had comforted you when things felt rough, that had been the one constant in your life for so long.

but now, it was a mask. a mask you weren’t sure you could break through.

‘you don’t seem happy,’ he said softly, his eyes lifting to meet yours.

you took a shaky breath, the lump in your throat growing with every second. ‘of course i’m happy for you. it’s celtic. it’s everything you’ve worked for. but... but what about us?’

the words spilled out of you before you could stop them. you didn’t want to be selfish, but you couldn’t help it. his dream was becoming a reality, and you... you didn’t know where you fit into that anymore.

‘what about us, kieran?’ you repeated, your voice trembling. ‘are we at a place where... where i should follow you? can we keep doing this long-distance thing? or is this the end?’

the question hung between you, thick with all the unsaid words that had built up over the past few months. you’d both been busy, so busy, between his commitments, your own, that the time together had become sparse. and with this looming decision, with the inevitability of his move to celtic, you couldn’t ignore it anymore.

kieran was silent, his gaze falling away from yours. ‘i didn’t want to put that pressure on you,’ he said quietly. ‘i don’t want to make you feel like you have to come with me.’

‘but i’m not sure i’m ready to leave everything behind,’ you confessed, your voice cracking. ‘i’ve built my life here, kieran. my job. my friends. i can’t just pick everything up and go.’

his eyes softened, and he stood up from the counter, walking over to you slowly, carefully. when he reached you, he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the few stray tears that had fallen.

‘i didn’t mean to make you feel that way,’ he murmured. ‘i’m not asking you to leave everything behind for me. but you’re part of my future. that’s not something i can just... walk away from.’

you blinked up at him, trying to process the gravity of his words. you wanted to believe him. you wanted to believe that you could make it work, that love could conquer distance, could conquer time.

but it wasn’t that easy. not when you were being pulled in different directions, your own future uncertain.

‘and what if this doesn’t work out, kieran?’ you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. ‘what if you go to celtic, and things change? what if we change?’

he closed his eyes for a moment, as if the weight of your question was too much to bear. then, with a slow breath, he replied, ‘i don’t have the answers. i don’t know what the future holds. all i know is that i want you in it. i want us in it. but i can’t ask you to follow me if you’re not ready.’

the silence that followed was deafening. you wanted to reach out to him, to hold him, to reassure him that you didn’t want to lose him. but you also needed to be sure of yourself. you needed to know that you were making the right choice, for both of you.

‘kieran...’ you started, but the words caught in your throat.

he kissed your forehead gently, and you melted into him, allowing yourself the brief comfort of his touch. ‘whatever you decide, i’m not going anywhere,’ he whispered. ‘but i’m here for the long haul, and i need you to know that.’

you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to feel the warmth of his words, even if they didn’t fully ease the uncertainty in your heart. for a moment, you allowed yourself to lean into him, to breathe in the scent of him, to just be with him. you weren’t ready to make a decision, but you didn’t want to let go of what you had, either.

the future was uncertain, but in this moment, you had each other. and maybe that was enough to keep you going.

for now.

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

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

❦ - hidden in plain sight.

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

warnings:: uhhh none

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

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

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

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

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

but today, he doesn’t just let it go.

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

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

‘this. us. hiding like this.’

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

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

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

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

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

‘kenan…’ your voice is soft, uncertain.

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

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

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

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

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

two days later.

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

then, out of nowhere, your dad calls.

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

your heart stops.

kenan’s game.

the universe has a twisted sense of humor.

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

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

his reply is instant.

finally.

match day.

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

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

you don’t breathe.

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

then the screen shifts.

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

your stomach drops.

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

you force a smile, but your pulse is racing.

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

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

and kenan?

he’s livid.

later that night.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Balde fic where hes normally super smooth and confident but the reader has him all nervous and stuttering for the first time ever and his friends are teasing him for it 👀

Unscripted~Alejandro Balde

・❥・prompt list

・❥・masterlist -> part 2

・❥・who I write for

・❥・a/n: I LOVED writing this so much!!

Balde was known for his charm and confidence between his teammates, especially when it comes to the topic of girls. However, when he met y/n, it was as if all his confidence vanished in seconds.

y/n was the best friend of Berta, Fermin’s girlfriend, and while she and Alejandro only exchanged a few polite words at one of the matches she had attended with Berta, something about her lingered in his mind.

Maybe it was her beauty, or kindness, maybe even confidence. He couldn’t exactly point out what it was, but ever since their first encounter, Alejandro found himself bringing her up to conversations more than he would like to admit.

And of course, his friends noticed.

“I swear she’s all you ever talk about,” Gavi once said, as the group of them were sitting at Pedri’s apartment, enjoying a chill evening.

“That’s not true,” Alejandro scoffed, knowing damn well he was lying.

“Yes you do” Lamine joined him, smirking as he gave Pedri a wink. “Last week you asked Fermin if she was single four times. In one conversation,”

Alejandro groaned before speaking again. “I didn’t–”

“You did,” Fermin interrupted with a smile. “Don’t worry though. It’s cute to see ‘Mr smooth with the ladies’ being shy about his crush”

“Leave him alone,” Pedri added with a teasing smile.

“It’s fun watching him malfunction for once,” Ansu said, making the others laugh.

“I’m not malfunctioning! You guys are annoying” Alejandro shot back, glaring at his friends

“All I’m saying is that if she’s going to be at the barbeque, we’re gonna need some popcorn for the show,” Gavi said, leaning back on the couch with a smirk.

“Please y/n. Fermin’s friends are pure chaos, and I need you to be here with me. Plus Balde is gonna be here” Berta’s teasing voice said through the phone , making y/n roll her eyes.

“I’ll come, but only because I know you can’t handle any set ups on your own” she said, making Berta hum in sarcasm

“Mhm sure” she teased making y/n chuckle

“Shut up. I have to go now” y/n said before hanging up.

“Hey guys?” Fermin said, approaching his group of friends. “Berta said that y/n is gonna be with us at the barbeque” 

Gavi let out a whistle as Pedri laughed, watching how Alejandro nearly dropped his bottle, the plastic container slipping from his hands and spilling on his shorts.

“Joder” Balde mumbled, furiously patting the wet spot on his shorts (fuck)

“Oh man he’s already losing it” Lamine burst into laughter

“Relax, Romeo,” Ansu said, smirking. “You’re gonna be fine, just don't faint when she talks to you”

“I hate you all” Alejandro said, throwing his water bottle away and going to the other part of the team, the ones who didn't know about his secret crush

By the time the boys arrived at Fermin's house, Berta and y/n had already set up everything in the backyard. Balde spotted her from the door, watching how she laughed at something Berta had said.

“She’s right there” Pedri whispered in his ear, nudging his shoulder

“I have eyes” He hissed, making Gavi chuckle from behind them.

“So go say hi to her,” Lamine urged, grinning like a kid who's just been given candy

“yeah let's see that famous Balde charm you've been bragging about in action”Ansu teased, making the group laugh once again

“I haven't been bragging–”

“Oh please,” Pedri interrupted, “I've lost count of the times you've said ‘i don't get nervous around girls’,”

Alejandro groaned, shoving his sweaty hands in his pockets

“can you guys just…stop?”

“Oh not a chance,” Fermin grinned. “you’re gonna go talk to her”

“I’m not doing it right now,” He shook his head, making Gavi snicker from behind.

“This is gonna be an interesting night,” Gavi said, rubbing his hands against each other as if getting ready for some action.

Throughout the evening, Alejandro tried his best to act normal, but it was impossible with her being so close to him.

She seemed to float through the party in her sundress so effortlessly, helping Berta out with last-minute details and chatting with everyone.

Everytime she looked his way, his heart rate skyrocketed, and he looked away immediately.

“you've been awfully quiet tonight,” y/n said with a curious smile, walking up to him as he stood awkwardly by the grill 

“I'm fine!,”he said way too quickly, his voice cracking slightly

She raised an eyebrow, her amusement evident.

“you sure about that?”

Before he could respond, Lamine appeared beside him, grinning from ear to ear 

“He's fine. just distracted by a very specific person”

Alejandro groaned, running a hand over his face.

“Lamine stop,”

“What?” Lamine grinned, “I’m just trying to help you”

“By embarrassing me?” Alejandro muttered under his breath

y/n tilted her head, clearly entertained by the exchange, “you guys are fun” she said with a soft laugh.

“Fun is one word for it” He said, shooting a glare at Lamine as he walked away, chuckling.

And as the night went on, the teasing only got worse. 

“He hasn’t tripped over his feet yet,” Pedri said, watching as Alejandro nervously handed her a plate of food before starting to make his way to them

“Give it time,” Ansu added, barely holding back a laugh.

“He’s definitely going to mess up soon,” Lamine chimed in, grinning.

“Can you all stop?” Alejandro hissed, his ears burning red.

From across the yard, Berta caught y/n's eye and gave her a knowing look. She blushed slightly, biting her lip.

Berta leaned closer and whispered something to Fermin, who burst into laughter.

“She knows,” Fermin said, nudging Alejandro. “You’re doomed, bro.”

“shit”

As the night started to wind down, y/n found Alejandro leaning against the fence, staring out at the backyard with a faraway look in his eyes.

“Hey” she said softly, walking up to him.

He jumped slightly, turning to face her with wide eyes. “oh, uh, hi”

“So you're gonna tell me what got you in the mood tonight?” she teased, a small smile playing on her lips.

“yeah…uh just tired, I guess” he said, scratching the back of his neck.

She laughed softly, before speaking again. “you're a terrible liar”

He let out a nervous chuckle, shrugging. “maybe”

“Well,” she said, stepping closer to him. “we should hang out soon. you know, just us”

Alejandro blinked, clearly caught off guard. “really?” he started, watching how she raised her eyebrows in amusement.

“I mean…yeah that'd be great. I'd like that”

She smiled at his shy state, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

“Good night Ale”

Before he could recover, she turned and walked away, leaving him frozen in place.

From across the yard, Gavi let out a loud whistle. “She made the move, and he’s still standing there like a statue!”

“He’s broken,” Pedri added, doubling over with laughter.

“I think she likes you, mate,” Fermin teased.

Alejandro groaned, burying his face in his hands. But even with all the teasing, he couldn’t stop smiling.

my taglist: @barcapix @paucubarsisimp @spidybaby @mxryxmfooty @n0vazsq @joaosnovia @ilovebarcaaa (lmk if you want to be added!!)

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!!)

stop my blind ass confused my alt and your acc and i was like "SAIRA DIDN'T UPLOAD IN 8 WEEKS?" then realised smh

BYE IVE NEVER LAUGHED THIS HARD IN MY LIFE AT SUM HOW DUD YOU MISTAKE US THAT BADLY 💔

https://www.tumblr.com/joaosnovia/776758335281168384/ykw-i-was-watching-a-video-of-gavi-walking-and-ive

Guys he just has bow legs 😭

it happens to a lot of footballers when they’re kids because when they’re having growth spurts and when their bones are still developing, there’s a lot of stress on their knees!

The action of kicking mostly uses the inside leg muscles, when can sometimes make an imbalance that can pull the knee joint inwards, which makes the shin bone to angle outwards/inwards!

(sorry for the physio yap 😭 long story short he’s alg but he has a higher risk of knee injuries and knee arthritis 😃)

LMAOOO IKKK I MENTIONED IT BC I SAW A TT AB HOW GAVI HAS REALLY FUCKED UP LEGS AND I JUST NEVER NOTICED IT @barcapix

Hi! Sorry to bother you

Can i ask for one of joao were reader helps him to forget about his ex but later she founds out They are still talking from time to time but Its actually no how she thinks? Like angst with reader being totally insecure but with happy ending

Thank you!!

❦ - silver springs.

summary:: he said he was over her. u believed him, until u saw her name light up his phone. you tried not to care. but it’s hard to love someone who still lives in their past. you just wanted to be chosen. fully. completely. loudly. and in the end… he did.

warnings:: angst?

writers notes:: TIME CAST A SPELL ON ME. BUT YOU WONT FORGET ME? anyways yea

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

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you didn’t ask about her.

not when he first told you there was someone. not when his voice got tight talking about her. not when you noticed the way he paused before answering questions like “how long were you in love with her?”

you just listened. held his hand. let him exist without pressure. because god, you knew what heartbreak looked like, and his had barely scabbed over when you walked in.

you didn’t ask for more than what he could give. just stayed close enough to be steady. never too much. never too loud.

and he started smiling again.

he laughed with you. he kissed you like he meant it. he held you like he didn’t want to let go.

so you told yourself it was real.

even when something in your chest whispered, not quite.

even when his phone would light up with her name late at night and he’d pretend he didn’t see it.

you found out accidentally.

you weren’t snooping. not really. you were just grabbing his charger off his nightstand while he showered, and his phone buzzed, and it was instinct to glance. just a glance.

"hey. i saw your interview. you looked good."
from her.

your stomach dropped.

you didn’t open the chat. didn’t need to. your hands were already shaking.

you hadn’t heard her name in months. he hadn’t mentioned her in even longer.

and now… this?

your mind spiraled quietly. you didn’t say anything when he came out of the bathroom, towel slung low on his hips, smile lazy and soft when he saw you. you smiled back.

but it didn’t reach your eyes.

you started noticing more after that.

the way he’d text with his phone tilted away from you. the way he’d get quiet sometimes, scrolling, jaw tense. the way he’d answer a call in the other room and come back like nothing happened.

it could’ve been anyone.
but it wasn’t.
you knew.

still, you didn’t say a word.

you started pulling away in small ways. cancelling plans. not staying the night. letting his calls go to voicemail. when he noticed, you just said you were tired. busy. nothing’s wrong.

and he believed you.

or maybe he didn’t. maybe he was just waiting for you to say it.

you almost did one night, when he took you to dinner and held your hand the whole time and kissed your forehead and said “i love you” like it was a truth he’d always known.

your heart cracked.

because you wanted to believe him.

but her name still sat in your bones. still itched under your skin. still whispered you’re second best. always were.

you cried that night when he fell asleep beside you, arms around your waist, breath warm on your neck.

silent tears. shaking shoulders.

he didn’t wake up.

you told yourself you were overreacting.

that maybe they were just friends. maybe they talked sometimes and it didn’t mean anything. maybe he’d moved on and you were the one stuck.

but you knew what heartbreak looked like.
you knew what grief looked like.
and sometimes, you still saw it in his eyes.

like he was still waiting for her shadow to disappear.

and you?
you were just holding the light.

you didn’t mean to see it.

again, you weren’t looking.

you were sitting on his couch one rainy afternoon, one of those quiet days where the world feels far away. he was in the kitchen making you tea, hoodie sleeves pushed up, soft music playing from his phone.

it buzzed once.

then again.

your name was on the mug he was holding.

her name was on the screen.

and you looked. again.

"still can’t believe it’s you in the red kit. i always thought you'd wear blue."
"you still look good."

your hands curled into fists.

it was always her.

her voice in his phone.
her ghost in his ribs.
her name on the edge of every silence.

you stood before you could think about it. grabbed your coat. didn’t wait.

you didn’t answer when he called.

not that night. not the next morning. not after the fifth voicemail where his voice got quieter, sadder, more confused.

you couldn’t do it.

you couldn’t be the one he loved when he was lonely. the one who kissed him back while he kept someone else alive in the back of his mind.

you weren’t a substitute. you weren’t a second choice.

you wanted to be the one.

he showed up three days later.

hair a mess, hoodie half-zipped, dark circles under his eyes like he hadn’t slept since you left.

you didn’t open the door at first.

he knocked once. then again.

then softly: ‘please, baby.’

and you opened it. because even though you were angry. even though your chest ached. even though your pride begged you not to—

you still loved him.

and he looked at you like he was afraid you didn’t anymore.

‘why didn’t you tell me you still talk to her?’

his face fell.

he didn’t lie. he didn’t deflect. he just said quietly, ‘because i knew how it would look.’

you didn’t speak.

‘i should’ve told you,’ he said. ‘but i didn’t know how. i didn’t want to hurt you.’

‘but you did.’

he looked down. ‘i know.’

he stepped closer, hands open, not touching.

‘i don’t love her anymore,’ he said.

you blinked.

‘i don’t want her back. she was my past. you—’ he exhaled. ‘you’re my now. my always, if you’ll let me be that.’

‘then why talk to her at all?’

he hesitated. then, gently:
‘because closure’s not always clean. sometimes it lingers. sometimes people try to keep a piece of you even when they shouldn’t.’

‘and you let her?’

his eyes met yours. honest. hurting.

‘i let her talk. but i didn’t answer back in the ways that matter. not anymore. not since you.’

you didn’t say anything for a long time.

the rain tapped on the windows. the silence filled every crack in your chest.

then you whispered, ‘do you still think about her?’

‘not the way i think about you.’

he reached out. touched your hand.

‘when you laugh,’ he said, ‘i don’t think of her. when you fall asleep on my chest, i’m not dreaming of anyone else. when you kiss me, i forget what it felt like to lose before you.’

tears filled your eyes.

‘i never wanted to be a replacement, joão.’

‘you’re not,’ he said, voice breaking. ‘you’re everything i didn’t know i needed.’

you let him hold you after that.

not because it fixed everything.

but because love, real love, is messy. it stumbles. it bleeds. it breaks open and still reaches forward.

and he reached for you.

held you like he’d never let go again.

whispered i’m sorry into your hair a hundred times.

kissed you like he meant forever.

and maybe it wouldn’t always be perfect.

but for the first time, it was real.

and this time, it was yours.

❦ - a quiet kind of love.

warnings:: none!

summary:: after years together, love has settled into something softer, quieter, but no less powerful. in the midst of gavis busy career, you both find comfort in the small things.

writers note:: i lowkey have to stop myself and put me in my place whilst writing so ignore that…

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

You wake up to the sound of rain against the window, the soft pattering a familiar comfort. The sky outside is overcast, casting a grayish hue across the bedroom, but the warmth beside you makes up for it. Gavi is still asleep, face turned toward you, dark lashes resting against his cheeks. His breathing is slow, steady, the kind of peace he rarely gets when football demands everything from him.

You take a moment to watch him, something you don’t often get to do. Most mornings, he’s up before you, rushing to training, pressing hurried kisses to your forehead before disappearing out the door. But today is different, today, he doesn’t have anywhere to be.

Carefully, you reach out, fingers tracing lightly over his cheek. He stirs at the touch, eyes fluttering open, still hazy with sleep.

‘Morning,’ he mumbles, voice thick and drowsy.

‘Morning.’

He shifts, pulling you closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck. His arms tighten around you, and you laugh softly. ‘You’re warm,’ he mutters. ‘Stay like this.’

You do. You let him hold you, let the quiet settle between you. There’s something about these moments that makes everything else feel far away, the stadiums, the fans, the flashing cameras. Here, he’s just Gavi. Your Gavi.

Eventually, though, hunger wins out. You press a kiss to his temple before slipping out of bed, ignoring his grumbled protests. ‘I’m making breakfast,’ you tell him.

‘Come back.’

‘You can join me in the kitchen.’

He groans but follows you not long after, appearing at the doorway in his sweatpants and one of his hoodies.

‘You look good,’ you tease, pouring him a cup of coffee.

‘Obviously.’ he says, smirking as he takes the mug from your hands. He kisses your cheek in thanks before sitting at the counter, watching as you move around the kitchen.

Breakfast is easy, eggs, toast, some fruit. Nothing extravagant, but it feels like something special just because it’s shared. Gavi reaches for your hand at some point, absentmindedly tracing patterns on your palm while he eats with his other hand. It’s a habit of his, one you don’t think he even notices.

‘You’re staring,’ he says after a while, amusement flickering in his eyes.

‘I like looking at you.’

He huffs out a laugh, cheeks tinged pink. Even now, after years together, he still blushes when you say things like that. ‘Corny,’ he mutters, but he squeezes your hand anyway.

The rest of the day passes in a comfortable blur. You lounge around the apartment, curled up together on the couch while a movie plays in the background. It’s one you’ve both seen a hundred times, but neither of you really care. Gavi’s head rests in your lap, fingers toying with the hem of your sweater, and you run your hands through his hair absentmindedly.

‘Are you happy?’ he asks suddenly, voice quiet.

The question catches you off guard. You glance down at him, brows furrowing slightly. ‘Of course I am. Why would you ask that?’

He shrugs, eyes still on the screen. ‘Just wanted to make sure.’

You pause, then lean down to press a kiss to his forehead. ‘I’m always happy with you.’

That seems to ease something in him. He turns his head slightly, lips brushing against your wrist as he exhales. ‘Good.’

Later that night, as you’re getting ready for bed, he pulls you into his arms again. He’s always been like this, clingy when he’s tired, when he doesn’t have the weight of expectations on his shoulders.

“I love you,’ he murmurs against your skin.

“I love you too.”

It’s simple. No grand declarations, no need for anything extravagant. Just the quiet, steady kind of love that lingers in the spaces between words.

And that’s more than enough.

i js washed my hair so like what if you do a joao fic where he's home early from training and he comes back to see reader has washed her hair and it's all like curly and stuff

since his hair is more wavy-ish he's like surprised by the amount of care and products it takes to do to get the curls to be healthy and pretty yk?

so he's asking reader about the products and trying to add them to his hair and reading the labels on the packaging to get to understand what is the process

so yeah idk i hope this was understandable

(bonus is him being horrified by the amount of hair loss (totally not reflecting my own pain))

❦ - my girls curls.

summary:: what the req says

warnings:: none

writers note:: OMG I GET YOU BC TS WAS WHY I WAS BALD FOR AGES 💔. anyways i don’t have that issue anymore bc of a long long story from some bangladeshi hair salon… anyways yea… also i always write my fics b4 formatting so im doing this as i’m watching the portugal match and istg i keep on hallucinating that vitinha is joao.

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

joão wasn’t supposed to be home this early. training usually ran late, giving you plenty of time to go through your whole hair routine in peace. but today, for whatever reason, things had been cut short, which meant he was now stepping into your shared apartment much earlier than expected.

the first thing he noticed was the smell, sweet, floral, and slightly fruity. not your usual perfume, but something that smelled like you.

the second thing? your hair.

his eyes widened the second he saw you.

you were sitting on the couch, scrolling through your phone, your curls still slightly damp but fully defined, soft ringlets cascading down your shoulders. joão had seen your hair like this before, but something about catching you right after wash day made him stop and stare.

‘woah.’

you looked up, amused. ‘woah?’

he set his bag down, stepping closer. ‘your hair looks… really good.’

you smiled. ‘thanks, i just washed it.’

joão flopped down next to you, still looking at your curls with fascination. he had wavy hair himself, but nothing like this.

‘so, like…’ he gestured vaguely at your head. ‘how do you get it like that? because my hair just… exists.’

you laughed. ‘it takes work, joão. a lot of work.’

he frowned, suddenly curious. ‘what kind of work?’

you got up, motioning for him to follow. ‘come on, i’ll show you.’

he trailed behind you into the bathroom, eyes immediately going wide when he saw the chaos on the counter.

bottles. everywhere.

leave in conditioners, curl creams, mousses, oils, gels, things he had never seen before in his life.

‘…this is all for your hair?’

‘yep.’ you grabbed one bottle and handed it to him. ‘this is my leave-in.’

he turned it over, reading the label like it held the secrets of the universe. ‘intense hydration for dry, damaged curls…’ he looked at you. ‘is your hair dry and damaged?’

‘no, because i use that.’

he hummed, grabbing another bottle. ‘curl defining custard? custard? like the food?’

you snatched it from him before he could say something even dumber. ‘not the food, joão.’

he moved on, picking up a tiny bottle of oil. ‘and this?’

‘that’s my hair oil. it seals in moisture.’

he popped the cap off, sniffing it. ‘smells nice. can i try some?’

you raised a brow. ‘you wanna try my products?’

he shrugged. ‘i mean, my hair’s wavy, right? maybe it needs moisture too.’

you smirked, grabbing a small amount of leave in conditioner and running it through his hair. he stayed perfectly still, watching you in the mirror as you gently scrunched his strands.

‘see? it enhances your waves,’ you said, fluffing his hair.

joão blinked at his reflection. ‘oh. oh, this is nice.’

you laughed. ‘told you.’

just as you were about to grab the oil, you heard a dramatic gasp.

‘amor,’ he whispered, eyes locked on the sink. ‘you’re losing hair.’

you sighed, already knowing where this was going.

‘joão—’

‘there’s so much.’ he turned to you, horrified. ‘are you okay? are you sick? are you dying?’

‘oh my god.’ you dragged a hand down your face. ‘i shed hair, joão. it’s normal.’

he didn’t look convinced. ‘but this is a lot’

‘do you panic every time you see hair in your barber’s cape?’

he opened his mouth, then closed it.

you smirked. ‘yeah. exactly.’

joão sighed, shaking his head. ‘this is too much. all these steps, all these products, all this hair loss… how do you do this every wash day?’

you leaned against the counter, smiling. ‘because when it’s done, i look good.’

he grinned, reaching out to pull one of your curls, watching it bounce back into place.

‘you look really good,’ he admitted.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in. ‘i know.’

he laughed, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. ‘can i borrow your leave in?’

‘absolutely not.’

he pouted but didn’t argue, still fascinated by your hair. his fingers twirled a curl around lazily, watching it spring back every time he let go.

‘so, how long does this all take?’

‘on a good day? an hour and a half.’

his jaw dropped. ‘an hour and a half?’

you rolled your eyes. ‘it takes time to look this good.’

‘i don’t even spend that long in training some days,’ he muttered, shaking his head.

you snorted. ‘you also don’t have curls that need hydration and definition.’

he looked back at his own hair in the mirror, scrunching his waves. ‘maybe i should start a routine. do you think my hair can look like yours?’

you tilted your head, studying him. ‘with the right products? maybe. but you’d have to actually commit to it.’

he hummed, still scrunching his hair like he was testing it. ‘what if i just let you do it for me?’

you smirked. ‘absolutely not.’

he groaned. ‘but you’re so good at it’

‘then i’d have to do this twice every wash day. no thanks.’

joão sighed dramatically, still staring at his reflection. ‘fine. but you are helping me find the right products.’

‘deal.’ you grabbed your oil and rubbed some onto your hands, working it through your curls.

joão watched you carefully, his eyes soft. ‘you know, you’re kinda cute when you do all this.’

you snorted. ‘kinda?’

he grinned, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

‘okay, really cute.’

you leaned back against him, smiling. ‘good answer.’

he pressed another kiss to your cheek, sighing. ‘i still can’t believe you go through all this every wash day.’

‘well, now you kinda have to, too,’ you teased.

joão groaned, burying his face into your neck. ‘what have i gotten myself into?’

you laughed, threading your fingers through his waves. ‘moisturized hair, that’s what.’