#Barça

[pedripics]

💙❤️

[p8driesta]

❤️

[n0vazsq]

Playing with fire | Marc Bernal x Reader

pairing . . . marc bernal x gf!reader

summary . . . Marc pranking his mom by asking her if he could bring a girl over that is not you

request . . . yes!! based on this request!

word count . . . 1.1k+

warnings . . . badly translated spanish!

faceclaim . . . N/A

alexavia yaps . . . i had sm fun writing this omg

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaa ,, @notm4d1 ,, @httpsdana (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

. . . You sat in the passenger seat of Marc’s car, trying your hardest not to burst out laughing. You already knew what was about to happen, and honestly, you couldn’t wait to see how his mom would react.

Marc had been planning this prank for days, and you were more than happy to play along.

Marc dialed his mom’s number, his fingers trembling slightly with excitement. You could feel the tension in the car as you both waited for her to pick up. As the phone rang, Marc shot you a look, grinning like a maniac.

You bit your lip to keep yourself from giggling, knowing this was going to be gold.

The phone clicked, and his mom’s voice filled the car. "Marc, ¿qué pasó?" (What’s going on?)

Marc leaned back in his seat, all cool and collected. He knew exactly what he was doing. "Hey, Mamá. Just wanted to let you know I’m bringing another girl home today. She’s not my girlfriend, but you’ll like her."

You muffled a laugh behind your hand, but Marc shot you a look, signaling you to stay quiet. He was doing an amazing job of keeping a straight face.

His mom was quiet for a second, clearly processing what he’d just said. "¿Otra chica?" she said, her voice sharp and confused. "Marc, ¿estás bien?" (Another girl?) // (Are you okay?)

You couldn’t hold it in anymore. You stifled a giggle with your hand, but you saw Marc’s eyes sparkle with barely contained laughter. His mom was already freaking out.

"Mamá, relax," Marc said, his tone nonchalant but his eyes betraying the excitement bubbling inside him. "It’s not what you think. She’s not my girlfriend, I swear. But, uh… she’s cool. You’ll like her."

You glanced at Marc, still fighting to keep it together. His face was red now, his effort to stay serious becoming harder by the second.

His mom wasn’t buying it. "¿Qué estás diciendo?"she asked, now clearly concerned. "Are you out of your mind? What does your girlfriend think about this?" (What are you saying?)

You couldn’t keep it in anymore. You had to bite your lip hard to keep from laughing out loud. You sat back in your seat, trying to keep as still as possible, but your shoulders were shaking with the effort.

Marc glanced over at you, and you could see the corner of his mouth twitch. He held up a finger, silently telling you to stay quiet, then turned his attention back to the phone. "I… I haven’t told her yet, Mamá," he said, his voice betraying his amusement. "I’m just letting you know. I didn’t want you to be surprised, you know?"

His mom was getting worked up. "¡Marc, estás jugando con fuego!" she shouted. "You don’t think your girlfriend’s going to find out? What do you think she’s going to say when she sees you bringing another girl home?" (Marc, you’re playing with fire!)

You had to turn your head to the window, trying to hold back your laughter. Marc couldn’t stop himself either, he was shaking with silent laughter now, his hands gripping the steering wheel as he tried to act serious. His mom was in full on panic mode, but he was loving every second of it.

"She’s-she’s not here, Mamá," Marc said, voice faltering a little as he tried to explain. "I’m by myself. Really. I swear. It’s just a joke."

His mom didn’t sound convinced. "¿¡No está ahí!?" she asked, clearly confused. "Wait, she’s not there with you? You’re alone?" (She’s not there!?)

You looked over at Marc, who was practically shaking with laughter now. He was trying so hard not to crack. You could barely hold back anymore, your body trembling with barely contained laughs.

Marc cleared his throat, holding back his own laughter just long enough to answer. "No, Mamá, I’m alone," he said, voice a little strained. "It’s just-"

"Marc!" His mom’s voice was almost shrill now. "You’re playing with fire! You can’t just bring another girl over like that. What do you think your girlfriend’s going to say? Are you out of your mind?"

Marc finally lost it, and a burst of laughter escaped his lips. "I swear, Mamá, I’m not cheating on anyone," he said between fits of laughter. "It’s a prank! We’ve been planning this for days. I’m really sorry!"

You looked at Marc, laughing along with him now. His mom was still yelling on the phone, but you both knew it was over. She wasn’t going to let him live this one down for a while.

Marc laughed, rubbing his eyes as he finally managed to speak. "Mamá, seriously. It’s just a joke. No other girl, I swear."

There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and you could almost hear his mom trying to process what just happened. "Marc," she said slowly, "you are unbelievable. I can’t believe you just did that to me."

You were full on laughing now, clutching your stomach as you wiped away tears from your eyes. Marc had gone too far with this prank, but it was totally worth it.

He sighed, trying to get himself together. "I know, I know. I’m sorry. I’ll fix this. No more pranks, I promise."

His mom didn’t seem fully convinced but finally let out an exasperated sigh. “"ou better hope she believes that. Don’t make me come over there, Marc."

You couldn’t take it anymore and let out one final laugh as Marc hung up. He turned to you, finally catching his breath, and both of you were in hysterics. He wiped his eyes and grinned at you. "I don’t think she’s ever going to let me live that down."

You grinned back, your laughter finally dying down. "No, not a chance. You’re going to hear about this forever."

Marc shook his head, chuckling. "Yeah, I deserve that. But hey, it was worth it for the look I imagined on her face."

You just smiled at him, giving him a playful nudge. "I think you might’ve broken her heart a little, though. You really went all in on this one."

He shrugged, still smiling like a kid who got away with something. "Totally worth it."

[peligrosapopagain]

Gavi, Pere, Lamine, Pau Prim, Hector Fort, Vicky Lopez,Mapi León, Frido and Ingrid watching Barça Femení B

[alex1a-ps]

😮‍💨

[hotgirleclerc]

BARCELONA VS ATLETI. 21.12.24.

[garciapimienta]

Pedri MVP but we lost

[millyh23]

Abuelita

Alexia Putellas x Reader

word count:

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Barça team was gathered at a lively café, chatting and laughing over coffee and pastries. Alexia was seated comfortably beside you, her arm resting on the back of your chair, as she listened to Vicky animatedly tell a story to Jana, Bruna, and Salma across the table.

Vicky’s words flowed quickly, with phrases that even you had to concentrate on to catch. But Alexia was nodding along, as if she understood every word—until she leaned in, eyebrows furrowing.

"Wait… what does ‘it hits different’ mean?” Alexia asked, looking between them, a bit lost. The younger girls exchanged amused glances.

“Ah, Ale,” Bruna said, barely hiding her grin. “You wouldn’t get it. Too old-school.”

You bit back a laugh, glancing at Mapi, who had also caught the teasing. She shot you a mischievous look before leaning in with a grin. “Hear that, Ale? Gen Z is trying to tell you something.”

“Excuse me,” Alexia protested, scandalized, her eyes darting between the girls and you. “Old? I’m not old!”

“Oh, sure,” you teased, patting her knee. “Next thing you know, they’ll be showing you how to use emojis, abuelita.”

Everyone burst into laughter, and Alexia’s mouth dropped open in exaggerated shock. “I am not an abuelita! Just because I missed a couple of phrases!”

Salma winked. “It’s okay, Ale. You’re vintage.”

Mapi leaned closer to you, laughing as she whispered, “And here I thought she was the queen of cool.”

Later that evening, you and Alexia were back home, winding down on the couch. She had one arm slung over the backrest, scrolling through her phone, her usual relaxed expression back in place. But you couldn’t resist one last tease.

You nudged her, hiding a grin. “You know, they had a point. You were really struggling today with the slang.”

Alexia narrowed her eyes, giving you a playful glare. “Don’t even start.”

You stretched your arms over your head dramatically. “It’s fine! I get it. You’re probably used to words like… I don’t know, fax machine and VHS—totally normal, classic stuff.”

She scoffed, setting her phone aside and shifting to face you. “Excuse me, I’m not ancient! I’m 30, Y/N.”

“30 is practically 40,” you said with a smirk. “And 40 is practically—”

“Don’t you dare continue.” She tried to look offended but couldn’t keep a straight face, her lips twitching into a smile.

You shrugged innocently. “Hey, I’m just saying, maybe you should start preparing. We can get you one of those pill organizers and a nice pair of reading glasses—”

Alexia scoffed again, though her eyes sparkled with amusement. “You’re hilarious, you know that?”

“I try,” you said with a wink. “But seriously, I could teach you some phrases. We can get you caught up with the cool kids. How about lowkey? Like, lowkey, you’re kinda cute even if you’re old.”

“Lowkey, you’re testing my patience,” she shot back, but she was laughing now, tugging you into her side.

“Alright, alright, I’ll stop… for now,” you relented, snuggling up against her, feeling her relax under your touch.

Alexia huffed, pretending to sulk. “I’m telling the team you’re a bully.”

“Oh, please. They already know I’m your biggest fan,” you teased, smiling as you felt her laugh under you.

---

It was a typical Saturday evening, and you and Alexia were sprawled out on the couch after a long day of training. You were scrolling through your phone, catching up on messages, while Alexia sat next to you, humming absently as she flicked through a magazine.

Suddenly, your phone pinged, and you saw the group chat lighting up. The usual suspects—Vicky, Jana, Bruna, and Salma—had started their usual banter.

Vicky: “Anyone up for dinner at 8? I’m thinking sushi 🍣.”

Jana: “I’m in! LFG! 🍻”

Bruna: “Same here, but gotta bounce early. Gotta get my beauty sleep 😴”

Salma: “Same, girl. TTYL!”

You smiled, seeing the typical chaos in the chat, but then you noticed Alexia peeking over your shoulder, trying to read the messages.

“What’s ‘LFG’?” Alexia asked, squinting at the screen.

You turned to her with a grin. “You don’t know?”

She straightened up, looking defensive. “Of course, I do. Just wanted to see if you were paying attention.”

You raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Right. Sure.”

Alexia leaned back with a casual shrug, trying to act like it wasn’t a big deal. “Well, what does it mean?”

You suppressed a laugh. “It means Let’s F*ing Go, Ale.”

Her eyes widened for a moment, then she quickly tried to recover. “Oh, right. Totally knew that.” She gave you a nod, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “Sure you did.”

The next message pinged up.

Vicky: “Yo, can someone get the S&P from the fridge? ASAP?”

Alexia furrowed her brows again. “What’s ‘S&P’?”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to keep a straight face. “Salt and Pepper, Ale. Obviously.”

Alexia looked at you, trying to keep her cool. “Well, I knew that,” she said confidently, though you could see the uncertainty in her eyes.

Another ping came through.

Jana: “BRB, gotta grab my OOTD for dinner!”

Alexia just blinked. “Okay, I know BRB means ‘be right back’… but what’s OOTD?”

You bit your lip to suppress a laugh. “Outfit of the Day, babe. Classic fashion lingo.”

She exhaled sharply. “Of course, I knew that.”

“Right,” you teased. “Totally.”

Another message came through, this time from Bruna.

Bruna: “That’s a mood, Vicky!”

Alexia stared at it for a long moment. “…What does ‘mood’ mean? Like, the weather?”

Now, you couldn’t hold it in anymore. You burst out laughing, clutching your stomach. “No, Ale. Mood means—well, I guess you can think of it as like when something vibes with you.”

Alexia looked horrified, but instead of admitting defeat, she crossed her arms defiantly. “Okay, well, I’m learning. I’m not old like you think I am.”

“Uh-huh,” you teased, ruffling her hair playfully. “Keep telling yourself that, Ale.”

Alexia rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips. “I’m definitely not as bad as you make it sound.”

You leaned over, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. “You’re adorable, Ale. Don’t worry, I’m here to help you with your cool kid education.”

As the next message came through, you saw Alexia’s eyes narrowing at the screen, but this time, she kept her mouth shut, likely trying to figure it out on her own.

Salma: “Catch y’all at 8, IRL. Can’t wait for the vibes ✌🏼”

You waited a moment, then turned to Alexia with a grin. “Do you know what IRL means?”

Alexia’s face betrayed her confidence now. She stared at the screen and then looked back at you, frowning slightly. “It’s… not important.”

You raised your eyebrows in amusement. “You don’t know, do you?”

“I know! It’s… I’m Really Lame,” she said, her voice rising a bit as if she was trying to convince herself more than you.

You burst into laughter again, earning a playful shove from Alexia. “You’re so full of it, Ale.”

“Fine,” she huffed, slumping dramatically. “Maybe I’m a little behind. But I’m catching up!”

You smiled, wrapping your arm around her. “Don’t worry, I’m here for you. You’re not that old.”

“Ha ha, funny,” she muttered, giving you a sideways glare. “I’m going to learn all the abbreviations, and then I’ll make you feel ancient.”

“Good luck with that,” you grinned, kissing the top of her head. “In the meantime, I’ll just keep you up to date on all the latest slang.”

Alexia mumbled something, but you caught her trying not to smile. It was cute—though she’d never admit it, you knew she was secretly enjoying being the student for once.

After a long week of intense training, you dropped onto the couch beside Alexia with a dramatic groan, sinking into the cushions like you were trying to become part of the furniture.

“Ugh, my back is killing me,” you muttered, rubbing at a sore spot between your shoulders.

Alexia raised an eyebrow, the corners of her mouth curling up in a smirk. “Who’s old now, hmm?” she teased, giving you a light nudge.

You glared at her, feigning offense. “Excuse me, my back pain is from being overworked, not from old age.”

She chuckled, stretching out beside you and crossing her arms over her chest. “Sure, keep telling yourself that. You sounded like a grandma just now.”

“Alright, abuelita,” she cooed in a teasing tone, grinning as she patted your hand like you were ancient.

You gave her a playful shove, trying to suppress a laugh. “Listen, just because I have one tiny backache doesn’t mean I’m old.”

Alexia tilted her head with an exaggerated look of sympathy. “Do we need to get you one of those heated blankets? Or maybe a nice back brace?”

“Oh, you’re hilarious, Ale,” you said, rolling your eyes, though you couldn’t stop smiling.

She leaned in, clearly relishing the moment. “I mean, I could help you schedule a physical therapy appointment. Maybe get you into some gentle yoga?”

You laughed, trying to hide how much you were enjoying her teasing. “Please, I’m still in my prime! You, on the other hand, are the one struggling to keep up with Gen Z slang.”

She raised her hands in surrender, feigning innocence. “Fine, fine. I’ll let it go… for now. But I’m just saying, if you need me to fetch you some extra pillows, just let me know.”

You groaned, reaching for a pillow to toss at her, which she dodged easily, laughing.

“Alright, maybe I’ll go see the team physio,” you admitted, finally giving in. “But only if you promise to stop calling me abuelita.”

Alexia leaned back, crossing her arms with a self-satisfied grin. “We’ll see, grandma. I- I mean amore," Alexia quickly corrected.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The End

[zombvic]

hi, i love your writing can you do one where marc guiu is secretly dating lewandoski's daughter and he finds out?

MR LEWANDOWSKI (marc guiu x lewandowski!reader)

summary : in which the polish barcelona player finds out his daughter is dating his teammate

face claim : no-one exact

notes : ty for the request !! im gonna do some requests asap (theres like twenty so plsplspls be patient <3) also im gonna go on vacation soon so ill be less active.

pairings : marc guiu x fem!lewandowski!reader

BEING THE DAUGHTER of the Polish striker, Robert Lewandowski, came with its perks. Some of the benefits was the opportunity to meet your favorite players, attend exclusive events, and see important matches, such as the World Cup and UCL Finals. But managing the constant media attention and living up to the Lewandowski name were only two of the challenges that came with it. The hardest challenge of them all was keeping your relationship with the Barcelona striker, Marc Guiu, a secret.

You knew dating Marc was going to make you slightly insane. The constant hiding and sneaking around was annoying, tbh.. But if you managed to keep this a secret for over seven months, you sure weren't going to fuck it up now.

Hector quickly caught onto your little facade. All three of you were classmates, and it was clear by the looks you exchanged across the classroom, the way Marc spoke to Hector about you, and just the overall way he admired you. Hector was certain you were dating.

Him knowing would actually come in handy. It was a little easier to keep the secret when Hector was on your side. When needed, he helped cover for you by coming up with excuses in case your dad was on the edge of figuring things out.

One afternoon, while your father was out, Marc came over to your house. It was a unique chance for the two of you to have the house to yourselves, and you both wanted to make the most of it.

You were in your room, cuddling on your bed with Marc as a movie was playing on your laptop. It was relaxing, finally a moment of comfort without any worries or the anxiety of getting caught.

"This is nice," Marc murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "I wish we could do this more often."

"Me too," you replied, pulling in closer to him. "But you're aware of my dad's history with my ex-boyfriends. If he found out, he would freak out."

Marc sighed as he played with the strings on your hoodie. "I know. Yet, sometimes I picture us going out on a typical date night. No concerns about your father catching us. You know maybe if he got used to our relationship, he could come along."

Playfully poking Marc with your shoulder, you mocked, "Are you using me to date my father?"

Marc gave you a gentle giggle and an amused look as his eyes met yours. "Maybe I am," he answered. "But in all honesty, I just want to go out with you—no sneaking around, just a regular 'I'll have her home by nine, sir' type date."

"Wow, real cute, Marc." Just as you were about to lean in for a kiss, you heard the front door open. Your heart stopped, as you and Marc exchanged panicked and confused looks.

"Oh fuck. He's not supposed to be back yet," you whispered urgently, scrambling off the bed. "You have to hide. Like now."

Marc quickly got up, looking around the room for a hiding spot. "WHAT?! Where should I go?!"

"Jesus Christ, Marc. I don't know just.. just get under the bed or something!" you whispered, trying to keep your voice down.

Just as your father yelled something from the living room, Marc dove under the bed. "Y/n? You home?"

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself before opening your bedroom door. "Yeah, What's up?"

He walked down the hallway, a frown on his face. "I thought I left my other keys here. Have you seen them?"

You shook your head, trying to look casual. "Nah, I haven't seen them. Maybe you left them in the locker room after training?"

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Maybe. I'll call someone to check if someone found them. Are you okay? You seem... off."

"I'm good, Dad," you said quickly, hoping he couldn't hear the nervousness in your voice. "Just tired, I guess.."

He looked at you for a moment longer before nodding. "Alright. Well, I'm going to head back out then. Let me know if you find the keys."

As he turned to leave, you heard a muffled cough from under the bed. Your eyes widened in horror as your father stopped in his tracks, his brow furrowing.

"What was that?" he asked, turning back to you.

"What do you mean" you said quickly, desperately trying to think of an excuse. "I didn't hear anything. Is your hearing alright?"

"Hey, I'm still only 35 years young. Anyways, I'll just head out, I guess. See you later, honey." He said as he walked out the front door.

As you walked down the hallway to reach your room, you exclaimed, "Marc, what the fuck was that? The one time you NEED to be quiet, you actually cough. How on earth is that possible?"

"Hey, I didn't put all that dust under your bed," he playfully said while hugging you. "Calm down, babe. He didn't even see me."

"Yeah, but he heard your silly ass. Anyways you should just go. He might come back soon."

At least three hours had passed before your dad returned, which was kind of annoying because you had the chance to finish the movie and still had two hours left to hang out without interruptions.

"Hey honey, I'm back home," your dad said as he walked into the house. You were sitting on the couch, watching Suits (a goated show btw).

Your dad's voice startled you, making you jump slightly. You quickly paused the show and turned to face him. "Hey Dad," you replied.

He looked around the living room with a curious expression. His eyes fell upon the hoodie that Marc gave to you. The hoodie that exclusively Barcelona players got. His brow furrowed slightly as he picked it up, examining it with a puzzled look.

"Whose hoodie is this?" he asked.

You swallowed nervously, trying to come up with a plausible explanation. "Oh, uh, that's Marc's," you said, mentally cursing yourself for not changing beforehand. "He gave it to me last week."

Robert's gaze shifted from the hoodie to you, his expression unreadable. "Marc's?"

"Yeah," you nodded, trying to keep your voice steady. "We… we've been hanging out a lot. Last week i was cold so he gave it to me."

He studied you for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to gauge your sincerity. "Hanging out," he echoed, more a statement than a question.

You nodded again, feeling the weight of his scrutiny. "Okay, yeah. So, Dad, we've been dating for.. a while now."

His eyes widened in surprise, shocked expression on his face. But he didn't look angry. Instead, he let out a slow breath and nodded.

As he stared at you for what felt like an eternity, processing the information, he finally spoke out, his voice calm yet tinged with disbelief, "You and Marc... have been dating?"

"I… I didn't know how you'd react," you admitted, feeling a pinch of guilt for keeping it from him. "And I didn't want you to worry."

Robert leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. "I see," he said. "And how long has this 'while' been?"

Marc cleared his throat, speaking up, "About seven months, Mr. Lewandowski."

Your dad looked at Marc with a mix of surprise and curiosity. "Marc? What are you doing here?" he asked, seeing him in the living room unexpectedly.

"I'm sorry, sir. Y/n messaged me to come over, so I did," Marc spoke out, trying to explain his sudden arrival.

"Sorry for not telling you sooner, Mr. Lewandowski," he said earnestly. "We didn't mean to keep it from you."

Robert eased his expression and laughed. "I understand," he softly said in response. "While I can't say I'm not surprised, I appreciate your honesty. Also, Marc, we've known each other for some time now. Just call me as usual." Your father joked with his teammate, your boyfriend.

You felt a wave of relief when you realized he wasn't upset. To be honest, he looked more interested than angry. "So, what do you think, Dad?" You questioned him.

Robert leaned forward, a small smile playing on his lips. "Well, if Marc here has managed to win your heart for seven months without my knowledge, he must be doing something right," he said, his tone teasing yet approving.

Marc and you exchanged a relieved smile as you felt the tension ease. Despite his reputation for being serious, Your dad has surprised you today by showing you compassion and comprehension.

You said, "Thank you, Dad," appreciating his understanding.

He chuckled loudly and replied. "Please just promise me that you will keep me updated. I'm happy for you both."

It was impossible not to feel an overwhelming feeling of relief. The secret was finally out.

[dehlicia]

girls...we need to talk about pedri after summer break last year

[emmylksblog]

I’LL LOOK AFTER YOU // HÉCTOR FORT

summary: even though héctor is upset with you, he still cares for you, staying close and protective. his actions show that he cares more than you thought. based on this request

genre: slight angst, fluff

warnings: none i can think of

a/n: yes the title is inspired by the song, someone edit him with it! i only see hot edits of him where are the fluffy cute ones?? like… he’s cute too 😔

The tension had been lingering all day. Héctor wasn’t as talkative as usual, his responses shorter, his tone distant. You’d noticed it, of course, but you brushed it off. Maybe he was tired, or maybe the game earlier had drained him. Either way, you didn’t push.

Deep down, you knew why. It was about earlier this week when you’d dealt with everything alone—just like you always did with your problems.

Not because you didn’t want him to help, but because he was always so busy, and you didn’t want to burden him. “It’s fine, I handled it,” you’d told him, but the way his jaw clenched told you he wasn’t convinced.

Now, here you were, walking side by side through the crowd, his silence feeling heavier than the noise around you. The streets were packed, and you felt the familiar weight of unease creeping in.

People were everywhere, moving too close, too fast. Your steps faltered for a moment, and before you could steady yourself, you felt his hand brush yours.

Without a word, Héctor slipped his hand into yours, his grip firm but not harsh. The small gesture made your chest tighten—not from anxiety, but from the way it grounded you instantly.

You glanced up at him, his expression serious as his eyes scanned the crowd. He didn’t look at you, but his thumb lightly brushed against your knuckles, a silent reassurance that he had you.

“Stay close,” he said, his voice low, barely audible over the noise around you. The slight edge in his tone reminded you he was still upset, but his actions told a different story.

You squeezed his hand, a quiet acknowledgment, letting him guide you through the chaos. Even in the middle of a crowd, with emotions tangled between you, he made you feel safe.

Throughout the day, Héctor stayed close, his earlier frustration giving way to quiet care.

At lunch, he pulled out your chair before sitting beside you, his hand resting lightly on your knee as he joined the conversation with his teammates.

Later, when you felt overwhelmed again, he handed you his jacket without a word, draping it over your shoulders like it was second nature.

By the time you both got home, the tension from earlier seemed like a distant memory. Héctor unlocked the door and held it open for you, his usual soft smile finally making an appearance.

Once inside, the weight of the day hit you all at once. Héctor had been so patient, so kind—more than you felt you deserved.

The thought sat heavy in your chest as you watched him move around the room, his effortless care only making the guilt worse.

He’d spent the whole day putting you first, even when you knew you hadn’t made it easy. You sank onto the couch, pulling your knees to your chest, the doubt creeping in.

How could someone like him—a person so thoughtful and good—put up with someone who always seemed to fall apart?

Héctor was heading to the bathroom, ready to take a quick shower, but he stopped in his tracks when he saw you curled up on the couch.

Without a second thought, he walked over and sat down next to you, his hand gently pulling yours away from where you’d been clutching your knee.

“What’s going on amor?” he asked softly, his brows furrowed in concern.

You shook your head, unable to meet his eyes. “It’s nothing,” you mumbled, but your voice cracked slightly, betraying you.

Héctor didn’t let it slide. “Hey,” he said, tilting his head to try and catch your gaze. “You’ve been quiet all night. Talk to me.” His thumb brushed over your knuckles, grounding you in a way that made the lump in your throat harder to ignore.

Héctor waited for a moment, watching your silence, before gently turning your body toward him.

Without a word, he pulled you into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around you as if to shield you from everything. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, and that simple act broke the dam.

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you clung to him, guilt and regret overwhelming you. “I’m so sorry,” you whispered, your voice shaky. You felt his arms tighten just a bit more, his chin resting lightly on your head.

“Shh, mi niña,” he murmured, his voice low and tender, though you could hear the ache in it. “I’m not mad at you anymore, okay? Just don’t do this alone again. Please.”

The crack in his tone made your chest hurt even more. Héctor was everything—too good, too patient, too kind—and you realized then that you should’ve trusted him all along. He was your safe place, your person.

Héctor gently pulled back just enough to cup your face in his hands, his thumbs wiping away the tears as they fell.

His eyes, soft and full of emotion, searched yours like he was trying to say everything he couldn’t put into words.

“You don’t have to be strong all the time, amor,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “That’s why I’m here, for you. Always.”

The way he said it, so steady and sure, made your heart ache in the best way. You nodded slowly, leaning into his touch as he pressed another kiss to your temple.

“I don’t care how busy I am, or what’s going on,” he continued, his forehead resting gently against yours. “If something’s hurting you, it matters to me. You matter to me.”

In that moment, surrounded by his warmth and his words, it felt like the weight of the world had lifted. You didn’t have to carry it all alone anymore—not when you had him.

Héctor’s eyes flicked to yours, his gaze lingering for a moment that felt like it stretched forever.

His hands were still cradling your face, his thumbs brushing softly against your skin. Slowly, as if giving you every chance to stop him, he leaned in.

When his lips met yours, it was gentle but full of meaning—like he was trying to remind you with every second that you were loved, cherished, and never alone.

The world seemed to quiet around you, the weight of the day melting away in the warmth of his kiss.

When he pulled back, his hands still craddling your face, a small, soft smile playing on his lips. “You’re stuck with me, ¿vale?” he whispered, his tone teasing but full of affection. “No more shutting me out, mi niña.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head. “God forbid,” you teased, your voice playful as you leaned into him just a little more.

Héctor let out a laugh, shaking his head as he pulled you closer. “Qué graciosa, ¿eh?” he said, his voice full of mock exasperation. “Still stuck with me, though.” (how funny)

Héctor chuckled, shaking his head before throwing his arm around you and tugging you closer, playfully but firmly.

“See? No escape, ni siquiera lo intentes,” he said with a teasing grin, his tone exaggerated like he was making a point. (don't even try)

You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips gave you away. “Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, letting yourself lean into him, and, without warning, you pressed a quick series of kisses to his neck.

His immediate reaction—a sharp inhale followed by a burst of laughter—made you grin wider.

“¡No seas tramposa!” he protested, trying to pull away but failing miserably as his laughter gave you the upper hand. (don't cheat)

“Who’s stuck with who now?” you teased, still giggling as he tried to recover, his cheeks slightly pink from both the laughter and the closeness. did yall see his red cheeks after training?? like he's so cute i wanna eat him

Héctor finally managed to catch his breath, his hand coming up to lightly tap your cheek in mock disapproval. “Eres un caso,” he muttered, though the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him. (you're something else)

You just shrugged, resting your head against his shoulder like nothing had happened. “Told you, you’re stuck with me too.”

He let out a soft laugh, his arm tightening around you again as he kissed the top of your head. “Yeah, and I wouldn’t change it for anything,” he said quietly, his voice softer now, the teasing replaced by tenderness.

[pedripics]

[p8driesta]

pedri trying to get our forwards to score from his chances

[n0vazsq]

Close to me | Hector Fort x Reader

pairing . . . hector fort x gf!reader

summary . . . When someone attacks you while you're out with Hector, he doesn't think twice about defending you

request . . . yes!! based on this request!

word count . . . 1.2k+

warnings . . . none!

faceclaim . . . N/A

alexavia yaps . . . this legit might be one of my fav fics ive ever written. anon ilysm pls dont stop with these amazing ideas

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaa ,, @ann6ella ,, @notm4d1 ,, @httpsdana (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

. . . The streets outside the venue had become a catastrophic warzone of flashing cameras, pushing bodies, and shouting voices. The crowd surged like a tidal wave, making it nearly impossible to move.

Hector’s hand had a firm grip on yours, his fingers wrapped protectively around yours as he navigated through the swarm.

"Stay close to me," he muttered, his voice rough but steady. He pulled you tighter to his side, his broad shoulders blocking some of the relentless paparazzi who pushed in closer with every step.

The questions and shouts came fast, punctuated by the endless bursts of camera flashes.

"Hector! Look this way!"

"Who’s the girl? Is this serious?"

"Over here! Are you engaged?"

You flinched at the invasive questions, ducking slightly as someone thrust a microphone too close for comfort. Hector noticed immediately.

His hand slid from yours to your waist, his body shifting in front of yours like a shield. His dark eyes burned with irritation, his jaw clenched so tightly it could’ve cracked under the pressure.

"She’s not answering any questions," he snapped, his voice like a blade cutting through the noise. "Leave her alone!"

The crowd only grew more aggressive, sensing the tension as an opportunity to stir more drama. They surged closer, the air thick with shouts and shoves. And then, just as you thought it couldn’t get worse, you felt it; a hand grabbing your arm, pulling you back with startling force.

You gasped, stumbling as your balance wavered. The touch wasn’t rough, but it was unwelcome and jarring, panic instantly flaring in your chest.

"Hey! Let me go!" you cried out, struggling to twist free.

Hector’s reaction was immediate, instinctual, and furious. He whipped around, his eyes locking onto the man who had grabbed you. In an instant, the calm, collected Hector you knew was gone. Replaced by someone seething with protective rage.

"Get your hands off her!" he yelled, his voice louder and sharper than you’d ever heard. He stepped forward, his body bristling with barely contained anger.

The man raised his hands defensively, mumbling something about 'just trying to get her attention,' but Hector wasn’t hearing any of it.

"You think that’s okay?" Hector said roughly, his tone dark, each word laced with venom. He took another step closer, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. "Touch her again, and I swear-"

"Hector!" one of his teammates called out, suddenly appearing by his side. "Hey, hey, calm down."

But Hector wasn’t calm. His eyes stayed locked on the man as though daring him to make another move. His chest heaved with the effort to restrain himself, but his fists remained balled, ready to strike if provoked.

"Don’t touch her!" Hector shouted again, his voice cutting through the chaos. He gestured toward you, his anger protective rather than violent. "She’s not a zoo animal for you to do this, and you have no right to lay a hand on her!"

His teammates rushed forward then, one of them gripping his arm while another stepped in front of him, trying to break his line of sight to the man. "Hector, come on," one of them urged. "Not here. Let it go."

"Let it go?" Hector snapped, his voice incredulous. "He grabbed her!"

The teammate tightened his grip on Hector’s arm, pulling him back slightly. "I know, but you’ve got cameras everywhere. Don’t give them more to work with. Let’s go."

"Hector, please," you managed to call out, your voice shaky and strained.

Hearing your voice snapped him out of his anger like a bucket of cold water. He turned to look at you, and his expression immediately softened, concern overtaking the fury. But the chaos didn’t relent.

Security was already stepping in to move you both, and in the confusion, Hector’s teammates began pulling him toward the side entrance while another ushered you in a different direction.

"No, wait- she’s with me!" Hector protested, his voice rising in panic as he realized they were separating you.

"It’s just for a second!" one of his teammates reassured him, though Hector’s anxious expression didn’t ease.

Your heart sank as you lost sight of him, the crowd closing in again despite the security barrier. The noise, the flashes, and the sheer weight of the moment were too much.

By the time you were inside, your legs were shaking, and your chest felt tight. You found yourself in a quiet corner of the building, but the calm of the space did little to ease your nerves.

Tears welled in your eyes as you scanned the room, desperately searching for Hector. You didn’t care about the cameras or the chaos outside. You just needed him.

The minutes stretched unbearably long, but then, finally, you saw him. Hector came rushing through the door, his eyes scanning the room with a panicked focus. The moment he spotted you, he crossed the space in seconds, his long strides urgent and hurried.

"Amor," he breathed, his voice cracking slightly as he reached you. He cupped your face with both hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had spilled over. "Are you okay? Did anyone hurt you?"

You shook your head, but your lip trembled. "I’m fine. I just…I was so scared, Hector."

His arms were around you in an instant, pulling you into his chest. "I’m so sorry," he murmured into your hair, his voice thick with guilt. "I should’ve stayed closer. I should’ve kept you with me."

You clung to him tightly, the fabric of his shirt bunched in your fists. "It’s not your fault. You were protecting me. You always do."

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes filled with regret and something deeper, an unspoken promise. "I swear to you, I’ll never let anything like that happen again. I don’t care if I have to fight through a thousand crowds; I’ll protect you, always."

His teammates had followed him inside, lingering a few steps away, their expressions a mix of relief and curiosity. The entire interaction was being filmed by someone nearby, but neither of you noticed. All that mattered was him.

"You’re all I care about," Hector continued, his voice low but steady. "Nothing else matters. Not the cameras, not the headlines. Just you."

You nodded, your hands still gripping his shirt as though letting go might cause the world to collapse. "I just want to go home," you whispered.

He kissed your forehead gently, his lips lingering as he whispered, "We’ll go. Right now. I’ve got you."

He kept his arm securely around you as he led you toward a private exit, the noise of the outside world fading with each step.

But even as the chaos diminished, the cameras had already captured everything; the protective fury in Hector’s eyes, the way he held you like you were his entire world, and the soft reassurances that followed.

By morning, the internet would be flooded with clips and photos, fans and media alike praising the way he protected you so fiercely. 'Boyfriend of the Year' some would call him. Others would gush over how deeply he cared, how obvious his love for you was.

But in that moment, as the two of you slipped into the quiet sanctuary of his car, none of it mattered. Hector held your hand tightly, his thumb brushing soothing circles against your skin, and whispered, "I’m never letting you go again. You’re mine to protect, always."

And for the first time that night, you felt safe.

[peligrosapopagain]

it happened fam. 🥲💙❤️

[coolemmasulivan2]

Public Secret

Pairing: Pedri Gonzalez x Reader

Summary: You're not together, but everybody knows that you're together.

Word count: 2409

Author's note: It's my first time writing about Pedri. I had another idea in mind but as I was writing it, it came out like this. Tell me what you think.

No me alcanza el tiempo Cuando estoy contigo Faltan tantos momentos Sobran los motivos Pa' que ya no llore

Everybody knew! Everybody.

It was no secret that you liked Pedri and that he liked you back. People could see how you felt about each other, clear as day. Except for you two, of course. You were both totally blind to it.

You'd been working together at Barcelona and with the Spanish National Team for five years. You worked in the Medical and Performance department, and you had a good relationship with everyone.

Pedri was three years younger than you, but when you met you hit it off right away. He was always so easygoing and had this calming way about him. And there was something about his voice that made you feel safe.

You were really close, but things changed after his injury at the Euros. Seeing him in pain was heartbreaking, and when he found out he'd miss the rest of the tournament, he was devastated. Since then, you'd been working together almost every day to get him back on the pitch for the start of La Liga.

"You'll come back stronger than before!" You'd reassure him, your words a constant source of encouragement and he'd always return your smile.

Back in Barcelona after the injury, and his vacations, the reality of his feelings for you hit him hard. It was time to stop hinting and take a leap. But every attempt to ask you out was interrupted by either another person or his own crippling fear. And then Dani Olmo joined the team, and everything changed.

"God, she's really beautiful!" Dani exclaimed as he saw you walking by when the the locker room door swung open.

"Who?" Ansu asked, curious.

"The physiotherapist. Y/n!" Ferran looked at him, a smirk playing on his lips. A few of the other players exchanged knowing glances. "Do you think she's single? I'm thinking about asking her out." Dani added, a cocky grin spreading across his face.

Ferran chuckled slightly. "That's a bad idea."

"Why?" Dani asked, genuinely confused.

"Well, how can I put this... She and Pedri are kind of a thing." Ferran explained.

Dani's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Pedri? And Y/n? Are you serious?" The boys nodded, a mix of amusement in their eyes. "No way!" Dani exclaimed.

"Todo el mundo lo sabe!" Ferran continued. "They act like best friends, but it's clear they're into each other. Everyone can see it except them, apparently." (Everyone know!)

Dani whistled. "Damn!"

Just as Dani was going to say something else, Pedri walked into the locker room, greeted everyone with a friendly smile. As he scanned the room, he noticed the odd looks being exchanged.

"¿Qué?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. (What?)

The boys quickly looked away, trying to appear nonchalant. "Nada!" Ferran replied, a bit too quickly. (Nothing!)

Pedri shook his leg nervously in the physio room while waiting for your arrival. He was still recovering from his injury and had been undergoing treatment with you. The thought of asking you out made him even more anxious than usual. He'd never had trouble asking girls out in school, but this was different.

"Hi, Pedri!" You greeted him, your voice warm and friendly.

Pedri looked up, a smile spreading across his face. "Hey!"

"How was practice? Did you experience any discomfort?" You put on a pair of blue gloves to examine his knee. His intense gaze made you blush. "Ahm-- Pedri?"

"Perdona. ¿Qué has dicho?" He shook his head, clearly distracted. (Sorry. What did you say?)

You chuckled. "How was practice? Any discomfort?" You gently touched his leg.

Pedri shook his head. "No! Everything's fine."

"Good. Let's take a look and see if it's healing well." You sat down on the stool and inspected his knee.

Pedri couldn't take his eyes off you, lost in your beauty. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words wouldn't come out. Every time he was about to ask you out, something seemed to block him.

"If it's so difficult to ask her on a date, just ask her if she wants to have dinner! As friends." He remembered Ferran's advice. But even that simple task seemed impossible.

"It seems like everything's fine." You said, stepping away to write something on the computer. "Just be careful, and in no time you'll be training with the team and playing."

"¡Ese es el objetivo!" Pedri replied, finally looking away from you to focus on his knee. (That's the goal!)

Unknown to him, you were in the same dilemma. Asking a guy out wasn't something you normally did, but it shouldn't be this difficult.

"Pedri?" You began.

Pedri looked up. "Hmm?"

Just do it! "Do you wa--" You interrupted yourself, your mind filled with doubt. Why would a famous footballer agree to a date with you, a simple woman? Rejection would be humiliating, and it could make working together awkward. "Do you want a lollipop?" You took one from your drawer.

Pedri laughed. "Do you always keep sweets in your drawer? You know we can't eat those, right?"

You shrugged. "Si tú no cuentas, yo tampoco." (I won't tell if you don't.)

Pedri hesitated, glancing at the door to make sure you were alone. "You'll be the death of me!" He said, grabbing the lollipop.

A knock on the door startled both of you. "Come in." You called out.

The door creaked open, and Ferran poked his head inside. "Hola!" He greeted you, and you returned the smile. "¿Mano, estás pronto?" (Are you ready?)

"Si!" Pedri jumped off the stretcher and grabbed his phone from your table. "Thanks, Y/n!"

You smiled. "De nada. Bye, Pedri!" (You're welcome.)

"Bye." He mumbled, his voice barely audible.

As he left the room, Ferran pushed him against the corridor wall. "Did you do it?" He whispered.

Pedri looked away. "I can't. Let's just forget it!"

"No! Come on, just do it." Ferran insisted.

Inside the room, you could hear them talking outside, but their voices were too low to make out the words.

"Mano, no puedo. Cada vez que lo intento, me rajo." Pedri confessed, his head against the wall. "She makes me so nervous." (Bro, I can't do it. Every time I try, I chicken out.)

Ferran rolled his eyes and let out a sigh. He grabbed his friend's arm and knocked on your door again. Pedri's eyes widened in panic. "Trust me!" Ferran assured him. You told them to come in, and Ferran opened the door. "Hey, Y/n, do you want to have dinner at my house? I'm inviting some of the players and the staff, just to celebrate the beginning of the session."

You hesitated, but eventually agreed. "I'd like that." You replied.

Ferran smiled, and for some reason, you saw Pedri blush. "I'll text you the address." He said. You nodded, and he closed the door.

You smiled, looking at the computer. This was your opportunity to ask Pedri out. Maybe outside of work, it would be easier.

On the other side of the door, Pedri hid his face in his hands as Ferran placed his arm on his shoulder. "Tonight is your chance. Stop running away and ask her out." Ferran urged.

You paused in front of Ferran's house, taking a deep breath. Tonight was the night. You were going to ask Pedri out, even if he rejected you. At least then you would know. You were out of work, in a different and comfortable environment, with all the ingredients to work in your favor.

"What are we waiting for?" A voice whispered in your ear, making you jump. You looked behind and saw Raphinha.

"You scared me!" You said, hitting his shoulder.

"That was the point! Anyway, what are you doing outside? Waiting for someone special?"

You rolled your eyes. Raphinha was the only one you had admitted you liked Pedri. Others had asked you, teased you, but you had never admitted to anyone else.

"I'm going to ask him out, tonight!" You told him.

Raphinha's face lit up. "It's about damn time." You blushed. He put his arm around your shoulders. "Come on, let's go find your lover boy."

Pedri was already on his third beer, he didn't know why, maybe to calm his nerves. This night had to go perfectly. He couldn't mess it up, it was finally his opportunity.

"Slow down!" Ferran said, taking the beer from his hand. "¿Qué cojones te pasa?" (What's going on with you?)

"Estoy nervioso! Have you seen her?" He said, looking around. (I'm nervous!)

"No, I haven't." He told him, grabbing his shoulders to make him look at him. "Hermano, cálmate! She's your friend, you talk to her all the time. Just take a deep breath. Everything is going to be alright." (Bro, relax!)

"If I mess this up, kill me!" Pedri said.

"Deal!"

You knocked on the door, and Ferran opened it, giving you a big smile.

"Y/n! I thought you had lost yourself." He said, giving you a hug and bumping fists with Raphinha. "Come on in."

"Nice house, Ferran! Who's the decorator?" You teased.

Ferran rolled his eyes. "I am! Stop assuming I don't have good taste." You laughed.

On the other side of the room, Pedri stopped listening to the new coach and turned his attention to the sound of your laughter. He knew your laugh anywhere.

He saw you talking with Ferran and Raphinha and instantly smiled.

"Excuse me!" He said to the group and walked away. As he approached, you saw him and smiled at him. "Hola!" (Hello!)

"Hola, Pedri!" You sounded like an angel to him. You always did. "¿Cómo estás?" (How are you?)

Without either of you noticing, Raphinha and Ferran had left you alone.

"Bien!" He replied, a smile spreading across his face. "For a second I thought you weren't coming." (Good!)

You smirked. "Why? Would that be so bad? Not having my company."

"It would be terrible!" He played along, his confidence unwavering. "With who would I talk? And enjoy the actual conversation?"

You laughed at his joke. Pedri was loved by everyone, and everyone loved Pedri.

"Says the man that's loved by all!"

Not you! Pedri thought to himself.

Even me! You thought to yourself.

"You know I like your company. It's always easy to talk to you." He admitted.

You blushed. "And you know I feel the same way."

It's now! You both thought.

"Everybody? ¡Vamos a comer!" Ferran shouted, his voice interrupting your moment. (Let's eat!)

If looks could kill, Ferran would be lying on the floor by the way both you and Pedri looked at him. He seemed to notice, because he quickly looked away from you.

You and Pedri sat down next to each other at the dinner table, closer than necessary. You found yourselves falling into conversations, completely forgetting about the other people around you.

"Pedri is going to ask her out, tonight!" Ferran whispered to Raphinha next to him.

Raphinha looked surprised, a smile growing on his face. "Are you serious?" Ferran nodded. "Y/n's is also going to ask him out, tonight!"

Ferran's eyes widened. "Puta Madre!"

"Well, I got to go!" Raphinha said, getting up from the sofa. "Y/n, do you want a ride home?"

After dinner, everyone had left except you, Pedri and Raphinha. The three of you along with Ferran sat together in the living room, talking about the next matches and about Pedri recovery.

You needed a ride home indeed, but you hadn't done what you were supposed to and before you could accept his offer, Pedri spoke.

"I can give you a ride home!" You looked at him, blushing, while Ferran and Raphinha exchanged knowing smiles. "I mean, we're going in the same direction."

"Oh, okay. Gracias, Pedri!" (Thank you)

The truth was that he didn't even know where you lived. He had no idea if you were going in the same direction as him, but the ride home was an opportunity to be alone with you and so be easier to ask you out.

As you and Pedri drove home, a comfortable silence settled between you. You were both lost in your thoughts, each of you trying to find the courage to say what you were feeling.

Finally, Pedri broke the silence. "I actually have no idea where you live, so I'm going to need the directions."

You looked at him and laughed. "So why did you say that?"

He scratched the back of his neck, nervously. "I just wanted to be with you. Since the Euros, we haven't been together that much and I miss it."

Your heart pounded in your chest. "I miss it too!" You said, your voice low.

With a smile on your face, you gave him the directions to your house. When he parked in front of it, you couldn't bring yourself to step out.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. "Pedri?"

"Y/n?" You both said at the same time. "Sorry. You first."

"I… I've been wanting to ask you something," you said, your voice trembling slightly.

Pedri swallowed a lump in his throat. "What is it?"

"I… I have feelings for you." You finally admitted, your voice barely audible.

Pedri's eyes widened. "What?" He asked, his voice filled with disbelief. "I mean… really?"

"I've tried to hide it, but it's been getting harder and harder." You admitted. "And I've been wanting to ask you out… like, on a date."

Pedri took a deep breath and looked at you astonished. "I… I've been trying to ask you out since we came back from Germany!" You couldn't believe it. You had been so afraid of rejection that you hadn't dared to admit your feelings. But now, here you were. "I've liked you since the first day we met."

"Me too!" You replied.

There was a long moment of silence as you both took in the significance of what you had just said. Then, Pedri leaned in and kissed you softly.

Your heart raced as you cupped his face and kissed him back. It was a gentle and sweet kiss. Even better than you had imagined.

When you pulled away, you were both breathless. "I've been wanting to do that for a long time!" Pedri said.

You bushed. "Me too."

"So, what do you say? Want to go on a date?"

You smiled. "Yes, I'd like that."