So This Is For All The People On My General Taglist Bc I’ve Gotten Rq For F1 Fics And I Need Yall To

Can you write a drabble/fic about Kenan coming to ask for your hand/your nikkah?

❦ - ‘and we created you in pairs.’

summary:: love is long, everyone knows but that’ll never stop kenan. your baba is a very stubborn man but kenan is always his favourite.

warnings:: none..?

writers note:: loving the islamic requests! i have another nikkah fic in my requests as well so i really hope you guys like it! and again ramadan mubarak 🤍. ‘and we created you in pairs.’ - al Qur’an 78:8.

tags:: @barcapix @n0vazsq @httpsdana @paucubarsisimp

kenan had never been afraid of big moments.

he had played in front of thousands, taken penalties under pressure, carried his team when they needed him most. but standing outside your family’s home, palms damp and heart hammering in his chest, he felt something different. this wasn’t a match he could win with skill or speed. this was about sincerity, about proving himself in a way that no game ever could.

he inhaled deeply, exhaling a quiet bismillah before knocking on the door.

when your father answered, his expression was unreadable. kenan greeted him with a steady assalamu alaikum, the words feeling heavier than usual, like a bridge between where he stood and where he hoped to be.

your father stepped aside, letting him in without a word. kenan had been here before, but this time, everything felt different. the walls seemed taller, the space between the seats in the living room wider. your mother sat beside your father, her face softer, but still expectant.

he knew what they were waiting for.

so he sat with his back straight, hands resting on his knees, and met your father’s gaze.

‘i want to ask for her hand in marriage,’ he said, voice unwavering.

there was no point in hesitation. no point in dancing around it. he was here to be clear, to be honest, to ask for something he already knew in his heart was meant for him.

your father studied him, his silence pressing down on the room like a weight. then he leaned forward slightly, elbows on his knees.

‘why?’ he asked.

kenan had prepared for this, had thought of every possible way to explain how much he loved you, how much he respected you, how much he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. but now, sitting here, words felt too small.

‘because she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me,’ he said, and the truth of it settled in his chest. ‘because she makes me a better man. because i want to build something real with her, something that pleases Allah, something that lasts. i want to protect her, support her, and never let her question how much she’s loved and valued.’

he didn’t look away. he let every word settle between them, let your father see the sincerity in his eyes.

your mother glanced at your father then, something unspoken passing between them. kenan caught the slight shift in your father’s posture, the way his fingers tapped against his knee as if weighing his next words.

‘this is a big responsibility,’ he finally said.

kenan nodded. ‘i know. and i’m ready for it.’

your father exhaled, long and slow. then he sat back, folding his arms. ‘a husband isn’t just someone who provides. he leads. he protects. he sacrifices. you say you’re ready, why do you believe that?’

kenan thought about all the things he could say. about how he had grown, how he had worked on himself, how he had prayed for this moment, for you. but instead, he spoke simply.

‘because loving her is easy. but making sure she’s loved the way she deserves, that’s the real work. and i’m willing to do it. every day.’

a silence stretched between them. it was your mother who smiled first, her expression warm, reassuring. your father was harder to read, his gaze sharp, searching. then, after what felt like forever, he gave a small, considering nod.

‘we’ll think about it.’

it wasn’t a yes.

but it wasn’t a no.

kenan let out a quiet breath, nodding in understanding. he knew this wasn’t something they would rush into. it wasn’t something they would take lightly. and he respected that, respected them for it.

but as he stepped out of your home, feeling the cool evening air on his face, he didn’t feel discouraged.

because he had taken the first step toward forever with you. and he would take as many as it took.

the days passed slowly. kenan kept himself busy, training, praying, waiting. he knew your family would take their time, that this wasn’t just about him but about their trust, their belief that he was the right man for you.

then, one evening, his phone buzzed.

a message from you.

come over. baba wants to talk.

he barely thought before moving, grabbing his keys, slipping on his shoes. his heart raced the whole way there, but his mind was calm. steady. whatever happened, he had put his heart on the table. that was all he could do.

when he arrived, your father was already waiting for him, sitting in the same spot as before. your mother was beside him, her expression unreadable. kenan greeted them both, sitting with the same quiet respect as last time.

your father exhaled, folding his hands together.

‘we’ve talked. we’ve thought about it. and we’ve prayed on it.’

kenan held his breath.

then

‘if she agrees, you have our blessing.’

relief hit him so hard he almost closed his eyes. he nodded, swallowing the sudden tightness in his throat.

‘thank you,’ he said, meaning it more than he could ever express. ‘thank you for trusting me with her.’

your father held his gaze, and for the first time, kenan saw it, the shift. the acceptance. the quiet approval behind his eyes.

and then, from the corner of the room, he heard soft footsteps.

he turned, and there you were.

standing in the doorway, eyes warm, a small smile playing on your lips.

his heart settled.

this was it.

this was the beginning of everything.

can you make one with Guille Fernandez again, where the reader is Hector Fort's little sister

fluff

❦ - hermanita.

summary:: what the req says.

warnings:: none?

writers notes:: istg on all upcoming fics, unless the req doesn’t explain what it is/i have free will, im gonna remove the summary section

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

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he knew from the beginning.

not because you told him, but because he’s your brother.

hector sees everything.

he noticed the way guille looked at you one afternoon in the kitchen, like he’d never seen anyone laugh so easily.
he noticed how you always sat beside guille on the couch now. how your voice changed when you said his name.
he noticed the lingering silence between you two when he walked into the room, like the air had shifted and neither of you had learned how to play it cool yet.

so one day he just… said it.

‘if you’re gonna date her, tell me. don’t be a coward about it.’

you and guille had frozen at the same time, like kids caught stealing candy.

but then guille stood up, cleared his throat, and said

‘i care about her. i wouldn’t touch her heart if i wasn’t serious about it.’

hector stared at him for a long second.
then shrugged.

‘don’t break her. that’s all.’

it wasn’t easy after that, but it was open.

no more hiding glances. no more awkward silences.

guille would text you mid-training with a ‘miss you already’ and hector would just roll his eyes.
guille would come over and sit next to you on the floor, and your brother would say something like ‘you have your own house, fernández.’
but it was light. teasing. tolerable.

because deep down, hector trusted him.

he’d known guille since they were kids.
shared locker rooms and long bus rides.
he knew what kind of man he was becoming.

and even if it drove him crazy to see you holding hands with his best friend, he knew you were safe.

one night, guille walked you home after a quiet dinner out. he held your hand the whole way.

when you reached the door, he looked at you for a long second before saying,
‘do you ever wish it was someone else?’

you frowned. ‘what?’

‘someone who wasn’t your brother’s best friend. someone easier. less complicated.’

you didn’t even hesitate.

‘never. i don’t care how complicated it is. it’s you. it’s always been you.’

and guille kissed you, soft and grateful, like he still couldn’t believe he got to have you, out in the open, without having to pretend.

inside, hector watched you both through the window.
sighed.

then muttered to himself

‘you better marry her.’

can u do a pau fic where he’s sitting down and reader comes to stand between his legs and he puts his hands on the back of her thighs (yk the thing that guys do idk how to explain it🤣) and her hands around his neck playing with his hair. and he just looks so in love and smiley and looking up and her and just listening to her speak.

maybe it’s at team dinner or something at the camp and everyone is like awww and teasing.

❦ - your hands.

warnings:: none

writers notes:: it’s safe to say that i didn’t survive yesterday and im sat at my desk at 7am rn and i’m chugging red bull

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

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it’s loud in the restaurant, glasses clinking, plates being passed, laughter bouncing off every corner of the table.

but none of it really matters.

because pau’s sitting in the middle of it all, quietly zoned out, eyes only on you.

you’d gotten up to grab something off the far end of the table, weaving through teammates and chairs and banter, and somehow ended up standing right between his knees as you reached across the table.

and instead of shifting or moving back, he just rests his hands gently on the backs of your thighs. casual. warm. his.

your breath catches just a little.

you glance down at him and smile, hands instinctively finding his shoulders, then sliding up into his hair.

his hair is soft. his eyes are softer.

and god, he’s looking at you like you’re made of light.

like he’s not in the middle of a team dinner with half the squad watching.

like you’re the only sound he hears.

you start rambling about something, what someone said earlier, a joke he missed, how chaotic the other end of the table is.

and he just listens.

quiet smile on his lips. fingers still tracing slow, lazy shapes on the backs of your thighs. head tilted just slightly so he can look up at you better.

he nods at all the right moments, gives little mhm’s and amused half laughs, but mostly?

he’s just watching.

like he’s memorizing you. like he already has.

someone down the table calls his name.

he doesn’t even flinch.

you finally stop talking, a little breathless, a little shy under his stare.

‘what?’ you whisper, laughing softly. ‘why are you looking at me like that?’

he just smiles.

‘you’re the best part of my night. that’s all.’

and yeah. you feel it. all the way down to your fingertips.

i wanna yap, my stpumach hurts and idk how to spell that word so ill just leave it how it is, also neymar jrjr might have a crush on my sister?? i thought we was friends but that ho was tryna get to my sister. hmm what else... oh yes i might be getting sambas here soon!! my parents told me they'd take me to go get them for Christmas but they're liars 💔 so it's all in due time. omg i love that song, joshua bassett slander was so stupid like goddamn take your washed brain somewhere far from me you cunt. also i did a face mask and im so glowy hehe wait omg should i confront neymar jrjr on sunday??? tf do i say, 'yo so there's a rumor floating around that you like my sister, is that true ho?' 'yes' '...' LIKE WTF DO YOU SAY AFTER THAT?? oh my god i just remembered when we were both in middle school this chick named allison liked him and told me to ask for his number and he REJECTED IT. and i had to run away like an idiot and i couldn't sleep without it popping up in my brain making me want to kms, but tbf he didn't reject me he rejected her thru me..? aye yi yi anyways im going to sleep now buhbye MWAH

i love how my inbox is full of yap and uhm what an interesting day!! neymar jrjr needs to get his act together BUT ARENT YOU LIKE 3 YEARS OLDER THAN HIM??? okay cougar… but like he’s also like 2 years older than your sister so atp i think you should just be lesbian again bc if you don’t make a move on dom then you’ll lit suffer. i hope him and ariya work out ig??

SOOOO YK WHO IT IS BBG BUTT maybe like jude x reader where shes an influencer for adidas and her and jude have to do a COLLAB FOr the brand and stuff i trust ur imagination❤️❤️

❦ - all eyes on us.

summary:: you’re a famous influencer who’s been paired up with jude for adidas pr.

warnings:: none!

writers note:: i love this hello? i love you babe this is such a yummy request i love writing this!! 😍 also i’ve clocked that i write sm in my writers note so uhm anywho this is my first jude fic so i hope my jude girlies like it!! btw this is my first time trying this style of writing ig so tell me if it’s good xx

word count:: 2,708

You never minded the fast paced world of being an influencer. You’d built your brand around effortless style and relatable charm, snagging deals with top-tier companies like Adidas. Campaigns like this were nothing new to you - until Jude entered the picture.

He was charming, no doubt. Tall, confident, and with a way of making everyone in the room laugh, he had that kind of natural magnetism that couldn’t be taught. From the moment he walked into the studio, you felt the shift in the air.

But it wasn’t just his presence that threw you off, it was how easy he made everything look, even while you were secretly trying not to embarrass yourself.

You both stood under the spotlight for your first set of shots. The creative director had explained the vibe they were going for: young, edgy, and fun. This meant capturing moments of banter, mock rivalry, and flirtation.

‘I’m not used to being outshined,’ you muttered to Jude as the photographer adjusted their camera.

He leaned down slightly, just enough to meet your gaze. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll let you win this one.’

The nerve of him.

‘Alright, Jude, throw your arm around her shoulder,’ the photographer instructed.

You felt the weight of his arm drape across you, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. The warmth of his skin through the fabric of your hoodie was distracting; almost too distracting.

‘Now laugh, like he just said something funny,’ the photographer added.

Jude didn’t miss a beat. ‘I didn’t realize fake laughing was part of your influencer requirements,’ he teased under his breath.

You tilted your head back and laughed anyway, your genuine amusement mixing with the forced effort.

The real chaos started after the shoot. Adidas had planned a tiktok segment where you and Jude would compete in challenges to promote the campaign.

The first challenge was simple: a lip-sync duet to a viral audio clip. Jude was awful at keeping up, missing half the words and breaking into laughter when he saw your exaggerated expressions.

‘Do you even know how tiktok works?’ you asked, barely able to hold back your laughter.

‘Not really,’ he admitted, grinning. ‘I’m more of a football guy, remember?’

‘Clearly. Let me handle this part.’

But when it came to the second challenge, a reaction test where you had to slap each other’s hands before the other could dodge - Jude’s reflexes as a professional athlete completely ruined your chances.

‘You’re impossible,’ you huffed, swatting at him as he casually held his hands just out of reach.

‘Don’t hate the player,’ he replied, his grin widening.

By the time the day ended, you were sitting on the studio’s couch, scrolling through some of the footage on your phone. Jude plopped down beside you, his body radiating warmth even in the air-conditioned room.

‘Let me see,’ he said, leaning over your shoulder.

You tilted the phone so he could watch the clips. The two of you looked so natural together, laughing, teasing, and bantering like you’d known each other for years instead of hours.

‘This one’s my favourite,’ he said, pointing at a video where you’d accidentally tripped over a cord mid shoot. Instead of falling, Jude had caught you with an arm around your waist, and the moment had turned into a perfectly awkward laugh caught on camera.

‘Yeah, that’s real ‘effortless cool,’ you said sarcastically.

He leaned back, his smirk softening into something more sincere. ‘You’re good at this. Like, really good. It’s not just the cameras. You’ve got... presence.’

You turned to him, surprised by the compliment. ‘Thanks, Jude. You’re not bad yourself, you know. For a footballer.’

As you both walked out of the studio, Jude fell into step beside you. The evening air was cool, the streets of the city buzzing with life.

‘You hungry?’ he asked casually, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie.

You glanced up at him, caught off guard. ‘Are you asking me to dinner?’

‘Maybe,’ he replied, that boyish grin creeping onto his face. ‘Unless you’re too busy for a post shoot celebration.’

You pretended to consider it. ‘Depends. Is this dinner part of the campaign, or is this just you trying to get to know me better?’

He laughed, shaking his head. ‘Off the record. No cameras, no Adidas logos. Just you and me.’

You hesitated for a moment before smiling. ‘Alright, Jude. You’ve got yourself a deal.’

The restaurant Jude chose wasn’t flashy, which surprised you. No cameras, no fancy decor, just a tucked away little spot that smelled like garlic and freshly baked bread. It was soft, warm, and nothing like the high-energy day you’d just had.  

‘This is unexpected,’ you said, sliding into the booth opposite him.  

‘What? Did you think I’d take you to some five-star rooftop spot?’ He smiled, setting his phone facedown on the table. ‘Not my style.’

‘I don’t know, you football types always seem... I don’t know, extra?’

Jude leaned back, one arm draped casually over the booth. ‘I’m not exactly your average footballer. But you already knew that.’

You laughed, shaking your head. ‘Alright, I’ll give you that. You’re different.’

The waiter appeared, and you both ordered, Jude insisting you get the house special because ‘it’s the only reason I come here.’ Once the waiter disappeared, there was a brief silence, the kind that could’ve been awkward if Jude wasn’t so effortlessly comfortable.  

‘So, do you always nonchalantly get your way through shoots like that?’ you teased, resting your chin on your hand.  

His eyebrows shot up. ‘Nonchalance? That’s what you call it?’

‘What else would I call it?’

‘Survival,’ he said with a laugh. ‘You don’t understand, I’m used to kicking a ball around, not posing and trying to look cool.’

‘Well, you pulled it off,’ you admitted. ‘Even if you were hopeless at TikTok.’

‘Hopeless?’ He leaned forward, grinning. ‘You’re crazy, you know that?’

‘Just honest,’ you said, matching his energy.  

The banter flowed as naturally as it had on set, but there was something more intimate about it now. Without the cameras and the crew, Jude wasn’t just the Adidas poster boy or the football sensation, he was Jude, the guy who couldn’t stop making you laugh.  

As you left the restaurant, you didn’t notice the group of fans across the street until one of them shouted his name.  

‘Jude! Over here!’

You glanced at him, expecting him to be annoyed, but instead, he smiled and waved, walking over to sign autographs and take a few pictures. You hung back, not wanting to steal his moment, but one of the fans pointed at you.  

‘Is that your girlfriend?’

Your cheeks burned, and before you could even respond, Jude turned to you with a smirk. ‘What do you think? Should we let them guess?’

You rolled your eyes, trying to play it cool. ‘Let’s not start rumors on a Wednesday night.’

The fans laughed, but your heart raced as Jude returned to your side, his hand brushing against yours.  

‘Sorry about that,’ he said once you were out of earshot.  

‘Does that happen a lot?’

‘All the time,’ he admitted. ‘You get used to it. But I guess that’s your world too, huh? Fans, cameras, people watching your every move?’

‘It’s... different,’ you said honestly. ‘I mean, I don’t have people yelling my name on the street, but yeah, there’s pressure to always be ‘on.’’

He nodded, his expression softening. ‘Yeah, I get that.’

You woke up the next day to your phone buzzing non-stop. Half-asleep, you grabbed it off your nightstand and squinted at the screen.  

Your notifications were flooded.  

FootyUpdates: ‘Jude Bellingham spotted at dinner with influencer yourusername last night 👀 Fans are already shipping it!’

AdidasOfficial: ‘Name a more iconic duo than JudeBellingham and yourusername. We’ll wait.’

yourfanacc: ‘Wait, are Jude and Y/N a THING?!? They look so cute together!!!’

You groaned, scrolling through the dozens of comments, edits, and conspiracy theories. One clip in particular was gaining traction, a TikTok of you and Jude laughing during the campaign shoot, set to a romantic song.  

Your phone buzzed again.  

Jude: morning darling. you seen the chaos yet?

You laughed, typing back. 

oh, you mean the part where we’re trending? yeahhh, just saw it.

think adidas planned this?

wouldn’t put it past them

There was a pause before his next message came through.  

Jude: you alright with it? 

You hesitated. The attention was overwhelming, sure, but there was something exciting about it too.  

mhm, as long as you’re ok being shipped w me?

Jude: could be worse. you’re kinda hard not to like.

The buzz from the campaign only grew, and Adidas wasted no time capitalizing on it. Within a week, you and Jude were booked for another event, a live Q&A streamed on Instagram.  

‘You ready for this?’ he asked as you both sat down in front of the camera.  

‘Not even a little,’ you admitted, adjusting your mic.  

The questions started off innocent enough, favorite Adidas pieces, funniest moments from the shoot, but it didn’t take long for fans to steer the conversation toward your ‘chemistry.’

‘So, what’s it like working together?’ one fan asked.  

Jude glanced at you, a playful glint in his eye. ‘Terrible. She bullies me non stop.’

You gasped, swatting his arm. ‘That’s a lie! You’re the bully.’

The fans ate it up, the comment section exploding with heart emojis.

As the weeks went on, you and Jude kept crossing paths, for more Adidas campaigns, promotional events, and even the occasional text conversation that drifted into late night time. The more time you spent together, the harder it became to ignore the spark between you.  

But with every laugh, every lingering glance, there was always that voice in the back of your head reminding you of the cameras, the fans, and the fact that you were both living in two completely different worlds.  

One night, after a particularly long shoot, Jude turned to you as you were packing up your things.  

‘Hey,’ he said softly. ‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Of course,’ you replied, pausing.  

‘Do you ever... wish things were simpler? Like, no cameras, no pressure. Just normal?’

His question caught you off guard, but you nodded. ‘All the time. Why?’

He hesitated for a moment before giving you a small smile. ‘Just wondering.’

You didn’t push, but the way he looked at you in that moment stayed with you long after you’d gone home.  

It was late. You were sitting at a café, hunched over your laptop, trying to get some work done before the next event. The world outside was quiet, the kind of peaceful night that made everything feel suspended in time.  

Your phone buzzed again.  

Jude: you still up?

You smiled, quickly typing back.

always. got a shoot tomorrow. what’s up?

A few seconds later, his response popped up.  

Jude: wanna grab a drink rq?

You hesitated. There was something different about tonight. Jude had been subtly pulling away lately, nothing obvious, just an undercurrent of distance. Maybe it was the pressure of the campaign, the media frenzy, or maybe he was just being careful not to blur the lines between your professional relationship and whatever else might be brewing.  

But the truth was, you’d been feeling the same thing. The moments you spent together were becoming harder to ignore. Every time you caught his eye, or when he touched your shoulder in passing, your heart would skip a beat.  

i’d love to.

The bar was quiet, tucked into a side street away from the chaos of the city. It was dimly lit, with soft jazz playing in the background. You both sat at a small table near the window, your drinks untouched as the conversation flowed between easy laughter and deeper silences.  

‘I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous around someone,’ Jude confessed, swirling his drink with a half-smile.  

You raised an eyebrow. ‘You? Nervous?’

He nodded, a subtle vulnerability in his gaze that you hadn’t seen before. ‘Yeah. I guess I don’t really know how to... handle this.’

‘Handle what?’ you asked, your voice softening.  

‘This.’ He gestured between the two of you. ‘Whatever this is. I mean, you’ve been a part of my life now for what, a few weeks? But every time we’re together, it feels like something... more.’

The words hung in the air, and you felt your breath catch in your throat.  

You set your drink down and leaned forward, heart pounding. ‘Jude, I get it.’

His eyes flicked to yours, searching for the sincerity behind your words.  

‘You get what?’

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment. ‘The pressure. The cameras, the fans, this whole world we live in. But I think... I think I’ve been avoiding this whatever this is between us, because it’s too complicated. I don’t know how to work it either.’

There was a long pause before Jude finally spoke, his voice low and steady. ‘I don’t want to keep pretending like it’s nothing. Like this isn’t affecting me. Because it is. Every time I see you, every time we talk, I can’t help but feel like I’m falling for you.’

Your heart hammered in your chest. ‘Jude, I...’

But before you could finish, he leaned in, his hand brushing against yours on the table. His touch was light but electric, sending a shiver up your spine.  

‘I don’t want to fight this anymore,’ he whispered, his eyes locked on yours. ‘I don’t want to pretend that I don’t want this. I want you.’ 

The tension between you both was insane. You could feel the weight of his words, and something inside you clicked. It was as if the floodgates had opened, and you finally understood that all the moments of hesitation, the awkwardness, and the teasing had been building up to this one point.  

Slowly, carefully, you leaned forward, closing the space between you. The kiss was gentle at first, almost tentative, like you both were unsure, testing the waters. But then Jude’s hand cupped the back of your neck, pulling you in closer, and everything about that moment felt right.  

Your heart raced as you kissed him deeper, the world around you fading away. There was no camera, no pressure, no fans, just you and him, two people who had been dancing around this moment for far too long.  

When you finally pulled back, breathless, Jude rested his forehead against yours. ‘I’ve wanted to do that for so long,’ he murmured.  

You smiled, a little breathless yourself. ‘Me too.’

He laughed, that familiar spark returning to his eyes. ‘Guess it was worth the wait, huh?’

You nodded, still caught in the whirlwind of emotions. ‘Worth it.’

There was a comfortable silence as you both sat back in your seats, the world outside still unaware of what had just shifted between you.  

But in that moment, it didn’t matter. You’d crossed a line, one that couldn’t be uncrossed. Whatever happened next, you both knew it wouldn’t be easy. The cameras, the fans, the expectations, they’d all be there. But for the first time in weeks, you felt certain of one thing: you wanted this.  

And maybe, just maybe, he did too.  

The next day, you and Jude had to face reality. The media frenzy about your ‘relationship’ reached new heights, with every tabloid, Instagram post, and fan account speculating on what the kiss meant.  

But for once, it didn’t faze you. You were sitting next to him, the two of you quietly sipping coffee in the hotel lobby, exchanging glances and small smiles like you hadn’t just turned your world upside down.  

‘You know they’re gonna talk about this for days, right?’ you said, half-amused.  

Jude chuckled, reaching for your hand under the table. ‘Let them. We’ve got something real, even if they don’t get it.’

‘I’m okay with that.’ You squeezed his hand gently, the connection between you undeniable.  

And maybe that was the point. No matter what the world thought, you and Jude had found something real in the chaos. Something that couldn’t be captured by a camera, something just for the two of you.  

And for the first time in a long time, you felt free.  

If you get a star ⭐️ in your inbox. It means your moot appreciates you, and your efforts in the community. Send this to 10 mutuals to continue the love! <3

I LOOOOVE YOU ok bai 🙏.

kali uchis’ “your teeth in my neck” is my new obsession. the song isn’t lyrically phenomenal but the way she can make a song about wealth inequality so sultry is amazing 😭 her voice is so smooth and raspy and the way she pronounces her vowels is so satisfying 😻

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

❦ - ours.

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

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

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

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

it was supposed to be a one time thing.

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

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

but then you missed your period.

then the nausea started.

then the two pink lines stared back at you.

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

pregnant.

with joão’s baby.

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

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

so you texted him.

can we talk?

his response was almost immediate.

of course. you okay?

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

not really. can you come over?

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

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

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

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

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

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

he blinked. once. twice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you blinked, tears stinging your eyes.

‘you’re not?’

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

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

something kind. something real.

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

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

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

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

it had been three weeks since you told joão.

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

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

he wasn’t just present. he was trying.

but still, it was complicated.

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

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

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

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

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

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

you blinked. ‘how do you know that?’

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

you snorted. ‘okay, fair.’

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

‘what’s this?’

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

you opened it slowly.

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

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

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

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

‘joão…’

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

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

your heart thudded in your chest.

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

he hesitated for half a second.

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

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

it was real.

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

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

you nodded slowly, heart full.

‘okay,’ you whispered. ‘we try.’

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

maybe it was just the beginning

You gotta give us more dad!joao content! Maybe a fic inspired by the girl dad head cannons you did before! Orrr maybe one where the club hosts a family day for the players!

❦ - la rainha de cobham

summary:: family day at cobham and joao decided to bring you and your two year old daughter

warnings:: none!!

writers note:: dad joao has me WEAK so yk im gonna have fun writing this!! respectfully i love this idea yall are masterminds keep it upppp 😍 also ive started to be more organised w the fics so are we liking it???

word count:: 925

Joao crouched beside his 2 year old daughter, Maya, who stood next to him, proudly wearing her Chelsea kit, clutching her tiny football. Her tiny foot tapped the ball uncertainly before she kicked it, the ball wobbling a few feet away.

‘Golazo!!!’ Joao cheered, lifting his arms dramatically as if she’d just scored in the champions league final.

Maya squealed, chasing after the ball, her brown curls bouncing as she went. Joao laughed, glancing over his shoulder at the sound of your voice calling out his name.

‘There’s my star player,’ you teased as you walked up to him.

‘And there’s my biggest fan,’ Joao shot back with a wink.

‘Number one fan? I’m pretty sure Maya took that title as soon as she was born.’ you teased again, raising an eyebrow.

He laughed, picking Maya up and propping her up on his hip. ‘We’ll call it a tie then.’

Today was special, not just any day at training but the clubs first family training day. Players had bought their nieces, nephews and kids, filling the fields with laugher, squeals and the occasional flying football. For Joao, it was a perfect combination of two things he loved most: football and family.

‘Alright, princesa,’ Joao said, setting Maya down on the grass. ‘You’re in charge of warming up.’

‘Warm up?’ she repeated, her tiny voice filled with curiosity.

Joao nodded, taking her hands and moving her arms in big exaggerated circles. ‘Like this. Big circles, like you’re flying.’

Maya copied him, giggling as her arms flailed. You watched, amused, snapping a few photos on your phone as Joao lead her through his own toddler friendly version of stretches.

‘Can’t let my star player pull a muscle,’ he said with a grin.

When the warm up was over, Joao jogged over to join his teammates whilst you stayed on the sidelines with Maya. She watched her dad intently, her big eyes following him as he weaved through cones effortlessly and passed the ball with his usual finesse.

‘Papa’s fast,’ she said, her voice full of awe.

‘The fastest.’ you agreed, brushing a curl from her face.

A whistle blew, and the coaches announced that it was time for a mini game featuring the kids. Joao immediately jogged over, scooping Maya up and tossing her up in the air.

‘You ready, princesa?’ he asked.

‘Ready!’ she squealed.

Joao and a few other players formed an impromptu coaching squad, dividing the kids into two teams. Maya, of course, was on Joao’s team, and he crouched beside her as he explained the game.

‘Okay, Maya, see that goal over there?’ he asked, pointing to the small net.

She nodded seriously, her little face scrunched in concentration.

‘Kick the ball into the net, and then we celebrate, okay? Big celebrations, like this..’ Joao jumped up and ran in a circle, flailing his arms like he’d just scored the most important goal of his life.

Maya burst out laughing and mimicked him, spinning in circles until she plopped onto the grass, dizzy but happy.

The mini-game began, and the field turned into a delightful chaos of tiny feet chasing after oversized soccer balls. Joao cheered loudly every time Maya so much as touched the ball, his pride evident in the way his face lit up. When she finally managed to kick the ball into the net, he swept her up into his arms, spinning her around.

‘Goal!’ he yelled, his voice ringing out over the field. ‘That’s my girl!’

Maya laughed so hard she had to catch her breath, her cheeks flushed with excitement.

You couldn’t help but smile at the scene, your heart full as you watched Joao seamlessly blend his two worlds.

By the time the game ended, Joao was drenched in sweat but grinning from ear to ear. He carried Maya on his shoulders as you walked back to the sidelines, where the families were gathering for snacks and water.

‘Did you have fun, princesa?’ Joao asked, tilting his head to look up at her.

‘Yes, Papa!’ she chirped, patting his head like he was her personal horse.

‘She’s ready for her contract,” you joked, handing Joao a water bottle.

He laughed, taking a long sip before responding. ‘Give her a few years. She’ll be breaking records in no time.’

Maya let out a tiny yawn, leaning forward to rest her chin on Joao’s head. ‘Tired already?’ he asked, his voice softening.

‘Papa… carry me,’ she mumbled sleepily.

Joao’s expression melted, and he adjusted her on his shoulders, his hands steadying her little legs. ‘Anything for my princesa,’ he murmured.

As the sun began to set, the coaches called for a group photo. Joao joined his teammates, keeping Maya perched on his shoulders. You snapped a few extra photos on your phone, capturing the way her giggles lit up Joao’s face.

‘Send me those later,’ he said as you all walked toward the car, Maya dozing off in his arms.

Joao carefully buckled Maya into her car seat, her tiny body still wrapped in her Chelsea kit. Once she was settled, he leaned against the car door, looking at you with a soft smile.

‘Days like this,’ he said quietly, ‘remind me why I play.’

As you drove home, Maya’s soft snores filled the car, her tiny hand still clutching the mini soccer ball she refused to let go of. Joao glanced back at her in the rearview mirror, his eyes full of love.

‘Best team I’ve ever had,’ he murmured, and you smiled, knowing exactly what he meant.