Where’s Man Going

ღ - WHO I WRITE FOR. 💕

okay so like the title is quite deceiving but also i wanna say like i will write for any footballers or f1 drivers (i love being a tifosi) anywho so i hope this helps when requesting bc i know some of you have been hesitant bc ydk who i write for!! 💓

are we being deaduzz 🥀 @n0vazsq

NO BUT THAT WAS A LEGIT QUESTION?

what does one do with such brainrot gems..

i just have to get these out, my inbox is drowning

@n0vazsq @joaosnovia

Hi! I'm going crazy after that Juventus vs. PSV match. Could you write something where the reader comforts Yildiz after this terrible game? He gave his all, even though he was put in during the final minutes, and his teammates seemed a bit slow.

❦ - in your arms, always.

summary:: kenan is frustrated after juventus’ tough loss against psv, feeling like he didn’t do enough despite giving his all in the final minutes. you’re there to comfort him, reminding him of his worth beyond a single match and offering the quiet support he needs. sometimes, being held is all it takes to ease the weight of disappointment.

warnings:: not really but it’s a bit angsty / comfort & mentions of self doubt.

writers note:: i saw this and instantly started writing loooord i love ts, anyways that’s so real bc i accidentally caught my reaction on camera and i was deadass going insane, anyways enjoy this fic as always!

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

the locker room was silent, the kind of silence that pressed against your eardrums and made your chest feel heavy. even through the walls, the muffled cheers of the psv fans outside the stadium stung. juventus had lost.

you stood outside the players’ tunnel, waiting. you had seen it all, how kenan was put in late, how he tried, sprinted, fought, but his teammates felt a step behind. and now, after all that effort, defeat still clung to the air like a storm cloud.

the moment he stepped out, your heart ached. his head was down, damp hair falling over his forehead, shoulders slumped under the weight of frustration. he hadn’t even taken off his jersey yet, the fabric still clinging to him from sweat and exhaustion.

‘kenan.’ your voice was soft, but it was enough to make him look up. his eyes, usually filled with that spark of determination, were dull.

he let out a heavy sigh, raking a hand through his curls before walking over to you. ‘that was terrible,’ he muttered. ‘i barely got any minutes, and even when i did… it felt like no one was on the same page.’

you reached for his hand, fingers wrapping around his, grounding him. ‘you did everything you could.’

his jaw clenched, and he pulled you into a quiet corner of the hallway, away from the noise of staff and players moving past. his grip tightened slightly, frustration evident in every part of him. ‘but it wasn't enough,’ he murmured. ‘i wanted to change the game. i wanted to..’ he exhaled sharply. ‘i should’ve done more.’

‘kenan,’ you whispered, reaching up to brush the damp strands of hair away from his forehead. ‘you barely got time to make an impact. and still, you played with your heart, you tried. i saw it. everyone watching saw it.’

his eyes met yours, searching, like he was trying to believe your words but struggling to let go of his own self-criticism. ‘it just.. it hurts,’ he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. ‘i hate feeling like this. like no matter what i do, it's not enough.’

you cupped his face gently, thumbs tracing slow circles against his skin. ‘you are enough,’ you said firmly. ‘one match doesn't change that. one loss doesn't erase all the talent, all the passion you bring to the game.’

he leaned into your touch, eyes slipping shut for a moment as if he was letting himself believe you, letting your warmth seep into the cracks frustration had left behind.

‘i just…’ he sighed again, but this time, his shoulders relaxed slightly. ‘i need to get better. i need to work harder.’

‘you will,’ you assured him. ‘but not tonight. tonight, you need to breathe. to rest. to let go, just a little.’

a small, exhausted chuckle left his lips as he shook his head. ‘you always know what to say, don't you?’

‘that’s because i know you,’ you said, squeezing his hand. ‘and i know that no matter what, you'll come back stronger. you always do.’

he exhaled, and then, without warning, he pulled you into his arms, burying his face into the crook of your neck. his embrace was tight, desperate, like he needed you to hold him together. you wrapped your arms around him just as firmly, fingers tracing soothing patterns along his back.

‘i'm proud of you,’ you whispered into his shoulder. ‘not just for what you did tonight, but for the player, and person, you are.’

kenan didn’t say anything for a while. he just held you, grounding himself in your presence, letting the frustration slowly melt away. when he finally pulled back, there was still disappointment in his eyes, but there was something softer there too, something like hope.

‘come on,’ you said with a small smile. ‘let’s go home.’

and for the first time that night, he nodded without hesitation, lacing his fingers through yours as you walked away from the echoes of the match, into the quiet comfort of each other.

MY FAVE WRITOR 😍😍 i love this and everything you do babe you’re amazing 💔💔

could u do a hector fort x reader where he’s at training and during the break, one of his teammates show him multiple social media posts uploaded by his mom of her and his gf of 2-years having a girls day without him knowing prior. the whole team is teasing him and saying how locked in they are and he’s just so happy asf saying that’s wifey and stuff like that xx

✮ Tú y Mamá - Hector Fort

hector fort x fem!reader

sy: hector’s mood had been low all day, from your absent messages for hours. what he doesn’t know though, is your date with his mother was what you were up to.

a/n: this was a little crammed into my schedule to write, so im really sorry if it’s a lil stiff but ty for the req 🧡(ifykyk @n0vazsq)

warnings: nope!

the ciutat esportiva was electric, barça players scattered out amongst the pitch, immersed within a full spectrum of excersise and activities.

hector was completing goal warmups, firing past numerous balls beyond inaki. nearby, cubarsí and lamine were atop a cooler box, following every movement hector made.

“he looks sorta angry doesn’t he?” lamine nodded over, grabbing pau’s attention. “i wonder what’s up with him.”

“did you not hear what he was talking to balde and ansu about? his girl hadn’t messaged him this morning.” pau noted in all solemnity.

“what?” lamine grinned, “are you serious? de ninguna manera.”

“im serious.” pau scoffed, shaking his head. “he’s crazy over that girl.”

lamine let out an exasperated sigh, watching as hansi blew out his whistle to signal the first water break of the morning.

hector kept his head low, strutting past the two guys in a seemingly rushed hurry. his eyes were locked onto the ramp to the lockers, as lamine and pau instantly followed his footsteps.

their cleats were in a rhythmic motion, the clicks bouncing from the concrete walls onto the otherwise silent hallway. hector’s movements had stopped at this point, an eerie silence lingering.

“hey hermano?” lamine called out, his voice echoing off the bricks. they meet face with the locker room, sighting hector’s figure silhouetted in the dim light. he sat on the bench below his locker, head in hands.

his curls were messy and crumbled, his jersey clinging to his sweat-drenched body—his toned abs on display.

“why are you in here man? your bottles outside.” pau walked on closer, gently swatting his head.

hector let past a low murmur, tugging his shirt over his head. lamine frowned, taking a seat next to him.

“what’s the matter with you amigo? you don’t seem yourself today.” he further pressed, as they exchanged a knowing look.

“im alright, just tired.” he grumbled. it probably would of been believable if his voice wasn’t so threaded with tension.

“ey, the usual im tired gimmick,” pau teased but tone firm. “seriously hector, what is it?”

as hector was about to retaliate, a follow-up echo of shoes clacked against the floor, revealing a wide-eyed gavi, pedri, casado and olmo.

“coach has been looking everywhere for you three!” dani exclaimed, flailing his arms. “why are you all in here?”

pedri sighed in relief whilst muttering a small, “i told you so,” to gavi who didn’t seem to hear.

“ask him that,” lamine gestured to hector, inviting the four players near. the group drew closer, with raised brows and curious expressions upon hector’s uncharacteristic gloom.

“we saw you with that dopey look on your face earlier,” gavi tried to lighten the somber mood, grinning. “wipe that glare off man.”

hector didn’t comment, he just kept his gaze onto his lap where he was fidgeting with his jersey.

casado huffed, trying to bring reassurance. “it’s not personal H, she’s just busy with your mom.”

the words rolled off his tongue simultaneously, though by the look on hectors face, he immediately regretted it.

“she’s what?” hector abruptly stood up, voice rising and laced with confusion.

“uh, yeah, she’s been with your mom all morning.” the spaniard mumbled, stepping back ever so subtly.

“how do you know?” hector advanced onto him, his face now inches apart from marc’s. hector’s jaw tightened, the muscles in his cheek twitching.

“oh si.. she posted it on instagram,” he gulped, the colour drained from his face. “earlier.”

hector’s glare intensified, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “my question is, why do you follow her?” he interrogated.

“no reason.. i follow everybody.” he said weakly, hurriedly shoving his phone into his pocket.

hectors eyes narrowed, the type of look that made marc shift uncomfortably. as though he was about to burst, pau quickly intervened, slinging his arm over his shoulder. “don’t worry hermano, he followed my sister and her friends who he’s never even met before.”

marc let out a sigh of relief, dropping his tense shoulders. a few of the boys snickered, poking fun at casado for his internet obsession.

pau continued, slowly steering hector’s attention away, “and get this, he liked so many of her posts that her boyfriend had to step in.” pau proceeded laughing, causing casado cheeks to blush.

“ey! i was admiring her aesthetic!” marc tried to defend, though that never really stopped the rest of them making fun of him.

“can’t you do that with your own sister? i don’t blame irene for blocking you!” pedri clapped his back.

“what? irene blocked you?” lamine doubled over laughing, clutching his stomach for air. “no way!”

“okay whatever whatever, show me again.” hector interrupted the guys’ gig, motioning for gavi’s phone.

pablo protested, although dani elllbowed him into submission. reluctantly, he pulled up the post on his phone, as hector took it from his hands.

hector flicked through the numerous posts, images of you and his mother laughing, posing, and seemingly drunk off merriment.

they featured everything from coffee dates and endearingly charming selfies, to affectionate boasts about your latest matching nail sets together.

each photo possessed a natural setting, no forced chemistry, no pre-practised techniques or no false smiles. hector couldn’t shake the swell of his heart that was multiplying with each swipe, his grin only growing wider.

the simplicity of all of the candid shots, brought an unwavering, flustering emotion over him—his earlier frustration melted away. who knew that all he needed was a few coupled images of the two women he loved most in this world, to cure his dishevels.

“look at that smile on his face,” lamine teased. “he’s so happy, it’s disgusting.”

“see the way he’s invested in them,” gavi added, him and pedri similarly leaning into eachother by snickering. “he’s completely gone.”

“she’s got you hooked man,” dani commented, also grinning ear to ear.

laughter filled the room again, but this time, hector joined in. he ran a hand through his hair, with pablo’s phone still in hand, gazing fondly at the screen.

“at least we now know who really runs your life,” pedri qipped finally.

“she’s worth it though, they both are,” he said simply, the sincerity in his voice silencing any further teasing.

the others nodded, their teasing softening into gentle ribbing. “of course she is,” marc stated. “just don’t let her forget it.”

hector chuckled, his heart now infinitely lighter than it had been all morning and his mind no longer foggy. “believe me, i won’t.”

i love you and this might seem like a broad ask do feel free to skip but could you possibly do a post on just joao felix

ofccc! Thank you for requesting!

This is texts with João Félix!

Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: a little brain rot 😛

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

MY SHAYLA 💔🫂

hi baby 😔

Can you write angst about kenan asking for your fathers phone number because he has interest in you. But your father doesn’t deem him fit/has worries about his potential loyalty to you because he’s surrounded by allot of woman because of his fame. Or because he probably won’t be around a lot?

❦ - but baba.

summary:: what the req said.

warnings:: none

pairing:: kenan yildiz x hijabi!reader

writers notes:: uhh so i made one where baba did end up accepting kenan but why not make one that contradicts that! this req was sent before the other one so im sorry this took like 2 months. also this was so refreshing to write omg.

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

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

‘can i have your father’s number?’

the question fell in the middle of a quiet walk home, your scarf slipping slightly with the wind.

you blinked. ‘what?’

kenan looked nervous, hands deep in his jacket pockets, gaze low.

‘i know this isn’t… light. but i’ve been thinking about it a lot. about us. and i want to do this properly. not in secret. not behind anyone’s back.’

he paused.

‘i want to speak to him. ask for permission to get to know you, with respect. with intention.’

your heart slowed.

because you believed him.
you believed in his kindness, his faith, his effort.
and it meant something that he wanted to go through your wali.

you nodded. whispered, ‘okay.’

you gave him the number and you didn’t expect the silence that came after.

not from him.

not from your father.

but the hours stretched long, your phone quiet, your chest heavy.

until kenan finally texted.

‘can we talk?’

he was pacing, hoodie up, hands shaking just a little.

‘he said no.’

the words hit you like cold water.

‘what?’

‘not no, exactly… just not yet. not now. maybe not ever.’

your throat tightened. ‘why?’

kenan looked at you, really looked. eyes full of something like guilt.

‘he said my lifestyle doesn’t match yours. that i’m too public. too distracted. surrounded by temptation. he said… he’s seen brothers like me before. ones who say all the right things but can’t commit. who get caught up in the dunya and forget what matters most.’

you stared at the ground, fighting the ache behind your eyes.

silence. heavy and aching.

‘i don’t need perfection,’ you whispered. ‘but i do need truth. and a man who’ll fight for this without dragging me into anything haram.’

he nodded. eyes soft. chest open.

‘i want to do this right,’ he said again.

but wanting and being allowed to are two different things.

and right now, your father wasn’t convinced.

your dad didn’t speak much after the call.

just a quiet ‘inshaAllah, khair,’
like he was trying to let it go.

but you didn’t. not really.
because kenan stayed on your mind like a lingering dua.
not loud. not desperate.
just… constant.

he didn’t message you for days. maybe out of respect. maybe shame. maybe both.

until one afternoon, your father came home with a strange look on his face.

you watched him remove his shoes, hang his keys, wash his hands.

and then he said it.

‘he came to the masjid.’

you looked up.

‘kenan?’

he nodded. calm. unreadable.

‘he came to pray, i saw him. we spoke again.’

you didn’t say anything. your heart was already too loud.

‘he said he doesn’t want to go further without your wali’s consent. said he’s working on his deen. asked if we could meet properly. with boundaries.’

you held your breath.

‘he looked me in the eye,’ your father added. ‘didn’t flinch. didn’t fold. just told me straight, he wants to marry you. not now. not in a rush. but when the time is right, when he’s the man he’s meant to be.’

you whispered, barely audible, ‘what did you say?’

your father sighed. not annoyed. not disappointed.

tired.

but there was a softness under it.

‘i said we’ll see. and that if he’s serious, he won’t disappear. he’ll grow, and he’ll do it with Allah in mind, not just you.’

you told kenan that night.

not with big words. not with promises.

just:
‘thank you for not giving up.’

and he said:
‘i don’t want your heart if i’m not ready to guard it the way your father would.’

it wasn’t fixed.

there were still glances from your father.
still silence between them that needed softening.
still moments when your chest ached with waiting.

but kenan kept showing up.

he prayed beside your dad every friday.
he sent questions to the imam about nikkah and mahr.
he texted you only when necessary, and never late.
he didn’t ask to see you. didn’t flirt. didn’t cross lines.

he made it easy to trust him.

because this time, he wasn’t chasing love, he was chasing permission.

months passed.

your father called you into the living room one evening.

he didn’t say much. just handed you a folded prayer rug.

‘he gifted this to me today. said he wanted you to have one just like it. said when he finally makes sujood next to you… he wants the rugs to match.’

you blinked through tears.

and your father, the man who never cried, said:

‘i’m not saying yes yet. but if this is the man Allah wrote for you…
then maybe, just maybe, he’s starting to look like the kind of man i’ve been praying you’d marry.’

epilogue::

your dress was simple, stunning. your hands trembled. your heart was quiet, but full.
you signed your name with your breath caught in your throat.

it was done.

you were his.

you didn’t have music or a big crowd. just soft smiles, warm food, your mum crying, your friends giggling behind their hands.

kenan kept looking at you like he couldn’t believe it was real.

‘you’re my wife,’ he whispered once, in awe.

you grinned. ‘alhamdulillah.’

Charles Leclerc Masterlist

Written Fics

Achilles Come Down

A Crime Against Fashion

All Locked Up

Bet on It

Black Magic

Blackmail Material

Blow Out the Candles

Boop!

Borrowed Time

Brake Balance

Break In, Breakdown

Breaking Point

Changing Lanes

Danger Noodles

Daydream

Eurovisionaries

Fairytale

Family Feud

Fit for a Queen

Gilded Cage

Going Once, Going Twice

Head Over Heels

Hydrate or Diedrate

Inked

La Regina

Lessons in Anatomy

Live Like We Want To

Lover

Made with Love

Make Them Proud

Man’s World

Mesaytara

My Brother’s Father

Never Have I Ever

Newsflash

Oscar Jack Piastri-Leclerc

Ours to Protect

Prince of Monaco

Prove Them Wrong

Puppy Love

Roll the Dice

Ruin You

Sink or Swim

Sleepyhead

So Good to Her

So Good to Me

Something Sweet

That’s That Me, Espresso

The Center Cannot Hold

Theories of Relativity

Ties That Bind

Time to Kill

Under the Influence

Use Your Words

What’s the Worst That Can Happen?

Your Friend Steve

Social Media AUs

In My Blood (series with Senna!Reader)

architect!Reader

author!Reader

black!Reader

Brazilian!Reader

celebrity crush!Reader

CEO!Reader

college student!Reader

crazy rich!Reader

endurance driver!Reader

fashion designer!Reader

fan!Reader

Ferrari driver!Reader

Ferrari engineer!Reader

Ferrari team principal!Reader

footballer!Reader

girlfriend!Reader

Horner!Reader

Måneskin!Reader

model!Reader

nepo baby!Reader

Newey!Reader

newlywed!Reader Part I

newlywed!Reader Part II

New Year’s Edition

pop star!Reader

pop star!Reader II

PowerPointless Part II

Princess of Monaco!Reader

pr manager!Reader

protective!Reader

revenge era!Reader

royal!Reader

Sainz!Reader

scandalous!Reader

shameless!Reader

single mother!Reader

socialite!Reader

Vettel!Reader

widow!Reader

wife!Reader

Wolff!Reader

Wolff!Reader II

Wolff!Reader x Max Verstappen

kenan yıldız headers

like/reblog if you save x

- requested!

4th times the charm (atp i’m js saying anything) gavi gets transported to morocco for a game, BUT while he’s there thru the shops he sees this BEAUTIFUL moroccan princess and they fall in love 😻🙏

❦ - stadium lights in casablancan nights

summary: gavi is called for international duty against morocco and finds love in the stands.

warnings: none!! however there’s a slight plot chance that was dmed to me afterwards xx

writers note: i love this idea and don’t ‘4th times the charm’ me mate your last 3 requests were diabolical?? who would read culpa mia but w gavi and snow white but gavis the princess?? 😭😭 also did someone say overwriting 😱

word count: 2k

The overwhelming roar of the crowd in Casablanca’s Mohammed V Stadium was quite deafening, but that made gavis pulse raise even more. His heart raced not because of nerves, but for the fact that he wants to prove himself. Back in the world cup 2022 he scored a goal against costa rica that showed that he wasn’t just another kid from la masia, he was truly a star. However, a few matches later his first world cup dream came to a crash. Round of 16 vs morocco.

As the anthems faded to an end and the refs whistle blew, he jogged into place and let the game get into its usual rhythm, clear chances, passes, tackles and fouls. And there it was. a goal! Perfect goal may i add by lamine yamal. The stadium erupted into cheers as gavi made his way to the corner flag to celebrate with his teammate, not only internationally but from his club that’s always been by his side.

However, this wasn’t just a normal celebration, something pulled his gaze upwards, and that’s when he saw it, her. Throughout the wave of opposing fans, one face stood out to him, a gorgeous girl, hands gripping the railing with her jaw dropped. It was obvious she wasn’t cheering for spain though, her kit and flag proved that inference. Yet her gaze found his, holding it for longer than it should’ve.

Eventually, half time pulled around as gavi made his way to the locker room. But that didn’t stop him from looking for her though. She hadn’t moved from that spot, instead she was stood up, laughing with her friends leaning against that very same railing, but her focus wasn’t on her friends. Her gaze was on the pitch, as if she was looking for something, making gavi wonder if it’s him that she’s looking for.

Pedri, who was standing right next to him, nudged him and said, ‘Focus hermano, she’s way out of your league.’, in a teasing tone, making gavi smirk but no response came out of him. He knew this wasn’t the last time their paths would cross.

The final whistle blew, the score ending in a 2-1 narrow victory to Spain, with players exchanging handshakes and shirts. Even though they had a successful match, that didn’t shift his mind from the mystery girl, his eyes shifting to her every couple of minutes.

After plucking up the courage to approach her, he noticed her still laughing with her friends, her smile lighting him up.

Without giving it a second thought, he jumped over the barrier, passing security and approached her. Some may call him cocky for the confidence but she noticed and found it amusing that he tried to get her attention. Although security refused to let him get any closer, he ushered her to come closer, and she complied, with her friends teasing her.

‘Hola, did you enjoy the match?’, he asked in almost a whisper to avoid attention from others.

She tilted her head, and her lips formed into a smile, laughing to herself and replied with, ‘Even though Spain won? I guess so’ she said in a playful tone, with her soft accent coming out.

They exchanged names however it caught Gavi off guard.

‘Wait you don’t know my name?’ asked Gavi in an almost concerned tone.

‘No, I know your name.. I just wanted to hear you say it.’ she said, her soft smile widening.

‘Gavi’ he said, chuckling, in a quiet voice.

Her friends called her from behind and she glanced back, reluctant to leave. ‘Looks like I have to go..’ she said.

‘Wait.’ Gavi said quickly, removing his shirt, and handed it to her, the faint smell of grass clinging to it. ‘Something to remember this match by.’

She took the shirt, her fingers brushing his for a small second, ‘Gracias, Gavira.’ she said, making his heart race.

There was one thing he knew for certain, he had to see her again.

The next few days in Casablanca was an absolute blur for him, media videos, training sessions and team meeting, but she couldn’t get out of his mind. Her smile, her laugh and how her gaze lasted for longer than even she wanted it to.

That’s when he realised, it wasn’t the match, it was her.

After hours of practice, the team had some downtime before their flight back to Madrid. Gavi found himself roaming the streets with Pedri, just so he didn’t seem like a loner.

‘So you’re really attached to this girl, hermano?’, asked Pedri almost with genuine concern.

Gavi sighed and yet again, didn’t have a reply for that and continued walking.

That’s when he saw her, for the second time, except she was alone in a small cafe.

He hesitated for a moment, Pedri staying outside, as Gavi made his way over.

‘Mind if i join?’ he asked, grabbing a chair from a nearby table.

She looked up, surprised as a smile was spread across her face. ‘Gavi’ she said ‘How come you’re not with your team?’

‘I mean, I was..’ he said, taking a seat opposite her. ‘But I figured i’d explore some more. Seems like I found the right place’

She raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. ‘So you spend your free time chasing random girls that you see during matches?’

He smirked, leaning back into the chair, ‘Only the interesting ones.’

She laughed softly, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the edges of her teacup. ‘Not sure if that’s flattering or too forward’

Gavi’s smile softened, ‘A bit of both, cariño.’

‘Well i’ve seen you play, you’re good. But i’m sure you know that by now.’

He chuckled, ‘I don’t need compliments, but i’ll take them’

She smiled again, ‘So what’s a footballer like you doing in this small cafe in Casablanca?’

He looked out the window for a second, and then back at her, ‘I guess i’m looking for things that matter besides football’

Her gaze softened, ‘And have you found that yet?’

‘I’m getting closer.’ he paused, ‘Listen, I don’t know how long i’m gonna be here, but I want to see you again’

Unsure of how to really respond to that, she said ‘Maybe. If you’re lucky.’ in a mysterious tone.

And that’s when he knew he wouldn’t be leaving this city any time soon.

Due to the weather in Spain, their trip extended a few more days, but she didn’t need to know that.

On the last night of their stay, Gavi slipped away from the hotel and didn’t tell anyone, not even Pedri that he was going back to that very same cafe.

The night air was cooler than he expected but the night life still stayed active.

It wasn’t that long until he saw the cafe again, although it was late, it was still open and a few people were still in there.

He hesitated for a moment before entering again and the owner looked up at him and said,

‘Gavi, right? You’re here for someone I figured, and if so you’re in the right place, habibi.’

Gavi, uncertain by her words, followed her over to the table, where he saw here for the third time.

He sat opposite her, letting his eyes linger on her for a second before she broke the silence.

‘Gavi, I thought you wouldn’t turn up.’, she said, following with the familiar smile that Gavi loved.

‘I couldn’t stay away.’ he replied

And to that she chuckled and said, ‘You’re a lot more complicated than i thought Pablo.’

He grinned, trying to hide his emotions, leaning back into his chair, ‘I’ve been told.’

She stood up and said, ‘Listen Gavi, it’s getting late, I need to get going, and you should too.’

‘Wait,’ Gavi said ‘Can you please see me play again.’, he asked in an almost pleading tone.

She looked back, with an unreadable expression and said, ‘And you think i’ll say yes?’

‘I was hoping that you’ll surprise me.’

‘Maybe.’

And with that, she left.

A few weeks passed by, and the memory of you lingered in his brain. He hadn’t seen her since that night in the cafe, but your time together was the only thing on his mind.

Now he was in the Montjuïc, at a home game for laliga, as the stadium was packed with culers from all over the world as usual. But this match felt different.

As the game kicked off, Gavi instantly fell into the usual match rhythm yet his thought remained on her.

There was a small pause in play, as he re adjusted his socks, someone caught his eye. It was her.

There she was, in the VIP section, her barca scarf tucked around her shoulders.

He froze for a second, his heart hammering in his chest. She was no longer a memory, she was there in real time. Eventually, he snapped back into focus.

The scoreline was 1-1 and he knew that he needed to be the change that he wanted to see, so he took a risk and shot it in the direction of the net, bracing himself for the result. And there it was, a goal to put barca in the lead.

Pablo sprinted to the corner to celebrate and he looked up to see her in the stands with her hands over her mouth in shock. Then she smiled, her face full of pride. He noticed that, and made a small gesture, pointing towards her.

After the match was over, he saw her waiting with security by the players exit.

‘You made that goal look easy’ she said, her voice with a teasing tilt.

Before he could answer that, he had a question in his head.

‘You came all this way, why?’ He said, his eyes searching for hers.

‘I wanted to see if you’d keep your promise’

‘And did I?’

‘Yes.’ she replied with a subtle smile.

It had gotten to the point where they finally exchanged numbers, making his heart flutter.

The next laliga match was against sociedad which was quite a big match if you think about it. He had just completed his pre game superstitions until he received a message

‘i heard you’re not as bad as they say, wanna prove it? 😉’

He grinned, feeling a rush of excitement.

‘i thought i already did that’ he typed back.

‘okay, meet me at the cafe tomorrow.’

He arrived at the cafe as soon as the match was over and he was lost in thought. What were they? He knew they weren’t a fling but he didn’t know what to label it.

‘You’re early’ she said as she walked in.

‘Came as soon as the match ended’ he replied.

‘Okay Pablo, i’m gonna start off with why i asked you to come here. You’re the first guy who’s come into my life with a smile and a promise. But i’m not interested in that.’ she started.

He leaned in, ‘What’re you interested in then.’

‘Something real.’

‘So am I, and i’m not going anywhere.’

‘So prove it.’

And with those three words, the barrier between them was broken.

They went for a walk on the quiet streets of Barcelona, the night air brushing their faces. Neither of them spoke but the silence was enough for the both of them.

He turned to face her, ‘Listen. I don’t want you to go, just stay.’

She looked back at him and said, ‘Gavi.’

He didn’t let her continue because he felt like he already knew the answer to that and closed the gap between them.

Eventually, she found her way into extending her stay and renting an apartment in Barcelona to stay wiyh Gavi

Months past until they decided to make it official to the public, they both figured it out, the fame and distance.

One evening, they both sat on the balcony until he turned to face her.

‘So this is what i’ve been looking for. I’ve finally found what matters besides football.’ Gavi said.

She smiled back at him, realising that this is all she wanted too.