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PEDRII PEDRII PEDRII

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I CREATED A COMMUNITY BY ACCIDENT 😭 HOW DO I DELETE IT, I CAN'T DO IT

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Could you write something about Pau Cubarsí going on a hike with reader but reader gets tired at some point and he’s sweet and understanding towards her but he still can’t resist to tease and annoy her a little. He also takes randomly pictures of her during the hike where he found her “cute” and “beautiful” in that moment? (Yes I got inspired by the pic he posted yesterday 😖)

A DAY WITH MY LOVE

→ Pairing: Cubarsí x reader

→ Warning: fluff.

→ Author's note: Feeling bad, because this request is from May, I swore I had posted it, sorry anonymous

And sorry if there are mistakes, English is not my language.I hope this is what you asked for. photos taken by me!

The sun filtered gently through the leaves, painting the forest floor with golden flecks and creating a perfect backdrop for the trail. For Pau, each step felt natural, an easy, comfortable rhythm. For his companion, however, the climb began to become a little more challenging with each meter gained.

He noticed it first in her breathing, a little more labored than usual, and then in her rhythm, which gradually slowed. When he stopped to wait and turned, he saw her a few steps back, her hands resting on her knees, her face flushed from exertion.

"Are you okay?" His voice was a sweet, calm trickle, filled with genuine concern.

She nodded, too breathless for many words. "Just... a minute."

Pau closed the distance between them in two long strides. His eyes, filled with infinite patience, met hers. "There's no rush. We can stop as long as we need." His thumb gently stroked her cheekbone, wiping away a trace of sweat. "You look beautiful, you know? All flushed."

She rolled her eyes, though a small, tired smile escaped. "I look like a poached lobster."

"Looks like my poached lobster, then. The cutest." He laughed, a low, warm sound that mingled with the rustling of the leaves. He opened his backpack and offered the bottle of water. "Drink. And rest."

As she drank, he couldn't resist. His sweet, understanding gaze took on a mischievous glint.

"You know, for a top-class couch athlete, that's a heroic effort."

Her eyes narrowed in mock warning.

"What did you call me?"

"A prodigy of rest. A champion of relaxation." Her smile was wide and disarming. "That's a compliment! Specializing in something is admirable."

She patted his arm weakly, but couldn't help but laugh. "It's unbearable. And stop being so... good at it!" She gestured toward the trail leading up.

Pau shrugged, amusement written all over his face. "Practical. But I love seeing my relaxation champion go on adventures. It's inspiring."

After a few minutes of rest, they continued, but at a much slower pace, dictated by him. It was during these quieter moments that he did something that caught her off guard. Without warning, his cell phone appeared in her hand. The click of the camera was discreet but unmistakable.

She turned around, surprised. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing." He tried to hide it, but the telltale smile betrayed him.

Further on, she stopped to admire a small flower sprouting between the rocks, leaning slightly. Click.

This time, she listened. "Damn! Stop taking pictures of me! It must be horrible!"

He stared at the image captured on the screen: her profile smooth against the rough texture of the stone, a tender expression on her face as she gazed at the flower, a few strands of hair escaping from her ponytail and framing her face.

"Horrible isn't the word I'd use," he muttered, showing her the screen. "Look."

She hesitated, but she looked. The image wasn't posed or perfect. It was genuine. It captured a moment of pure, exhausting authenticity. And he was right. There was something beautiful about it.

"It's just a picture," she said, trying to be nonchalant, but the silent compliment warmed her insides.

"This is my favorite one so far," he declared, tucking his phone away from any attempt she might make to delete it. "The next one will be when we reach the top. You'll be so tired and so happy that it'll be even better."

The rest of the hike was punctuated by more stolen photos—of her drinking water, of her facing the climb with exaggerated determination, of her laughing at a stupid joke he'd made. Each capture was a little secret, a treasure he'd collected.

When they finally reached the summit, the stunning view of green valleys and distant mountains was overshadowed, for Pau, by only one thing: the expression of pure, triumphant joy on her face, her arms stretched skyward as if she could embrace the world.

He didn't take a picture. Instead, he walked over and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. "See? It was worth every step, wasn't it?"

She snuggled against his chest, her breath still catching, but her heart full. "Thanks. Especially since you're here to tease me and carry me if I need to."

"Always," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. "And I can't wait to tease you on the way down."

“Oh no, Pau!”

Taglist: @paucubarsisimp @nngkay @meganesanchez @htpssgavi @merinottt @luvvpedri @moonvr @joaosnovia @httpsdana @ilovebarcaaaa @p4uul0vr @pedricando @barcapix @owala6789

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YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES 🤤😭

my love vibes so well w/ flamengo

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Please can you write about Lamine and RM women player reader.He notices her for the first time and falls in love with her.Good night ♥️🎀

RECOVERY IN EVERY LOOK

→ Pairing: Lamine Yamal x reader

→ Warning: no.

→ Author's note: I love him

And sorry if there are mistakes, English is not my language.I hope this is what you asked for. photos taken by me!

The Mallorcan sun poured its gold over Es Trenc beach, transforming the sea into a shimmering mirror and the sand into a warm, clear carpet. The salty air carried the sound of waves, laughter, and the joyful shouts of a group of young people playing soccer at the water's edge.

Among them, Lamine Yamal was pure energy. Barefoot, in beach shorts, his torso tanned by the sun, he dribbled past his friends with an ease that seemed as natural as breathing. His feet traced paths in the soft sand, and his laughter echoed, relaxed and free, a sound so characteristic of those days off. He was at home, surrounded by his family, and the happiness was palpable.

The play was set up: a powerful pass, a miscued deflection, and the white and blue ball slipped out of control, rolling with momentum away from the group, toward the quieter area of the beach, where umbrellas and beach chairs dotted the sand.

"I'll get it!" shouted Lamine, already running towards the ball, which kept rolling.

The ball had a destination. It rolled hard, hitting the side of a beach chair leg with a dull thud, causing the juice glass on one of the small tables to wobble dangerously. The chair in question was occupied by you.

You and your friends chatted animatedly, enjoying the warmth and the stunning scenery. Over your bikini, you wore a piece that was a statement of purpose: an oversized blouse, light and fresh, but in immaculate white, and, above your chest, the unmistakable Real Madrid crest proudly embroidered. It was your fan uniform, even on enemy soil, even in the middle of the holidays.

The shock was minimal. You pushed your sunglasses up onto your forehead, brushing away the strands of hair the wind had blown into your face, and looked at the ball that now lay inert at your feet.

It was at that exact moment that Lamine arrived, a little out of breath, an apologetic smile ready on his lips.

"Perdón, no era la intención..." the sentence started to come out automatically, but it got stuck between his brain and his voice.

His eyes, which had initially been on the ball, rose. They saw her feet in the sand, her tanned legs, her discreet bikini, and then... the blouse. The white. The shield.

Lamine's apologetic smile slowly transformed into something else entirely. A mischievous grin, a defiant, deeply interested glint in his dark eyes. He stopped a few steps away, his body still warm from the exertion of his run.

He didn't bend down to pick up the ball. Not right away.

Instead, his expression changed to one of pure defiance. One eyebrow rose subtly, and that same smile that scored goals on the field now turned to you.

"Vaya, vaya..." he began, his voice a tone lower, filled with intimate amusement. "I thought everyone on the beach was wearing your stadium's colors. Or maybe you picked the wrong beach, Real Madrid fan?"

He finally crouched down, catching the ball with one hand, but without breaking eye contact. His posture was relaxed, confident, but there was genuine curiosity behind the teasing.

You felt heat rise to your face, but it wasn't just from the sun. It was a mixture of surprise—it was him, it really was him—and that automatic instinct to defend yourself from a friendly provocation. Your lips curved into a small, equally defiant smile.

"Nothing," you replied, your voice firmer than you expected. "I'm just showing you what real colors look like. That blue and maroon will fade with all the sun and sea."

The laugh that came out of Lamine was genuine, surprised, and adorable. His eyes narrowed, glaring with amusement. He leaned back on the ball, which was now at his waist.

"Oh, yes? Nice words for someone in Culé territory," he retorted, taking a step closer. His friends, in the distance, shouted something to him, but he just raised his free hand, ignoring them completely. His attention was now all his own. "Aren't you afraid of a little invasion?"

"What doesn't challenge, doesn't transform," you shrugged, feigning an indifference you didn't completely feel. Your heart beat a little faster. "Besides, everyone needs a little class around, right?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. His gaze made a quick journey from your face to the shield on your chest and back again, and this time there wasn't just teasing, but a slow, deliberate appreciation that made you feel completely seen.

"Classy, huh? I like that," he admitted, his voice soft. "So what? Are you really into it, or is it just a fad?" The challenge was there, but now it sounded more like genuine interest, an attempt to make conversation.

"Champion of the Undécima," you replied immediately, citing Real Madrid's last Champions League title with pride. "Need I say more?"

His eyes sparkled. "It has history. I like it. But we write history in the present, don't we?" He was clearly referring to the eternal clash between the two clubs. "The next chapter is promising."

"We'll be waiting. In white."

The silence that followed wasn't awkward. It was charged. Electric. He just stared at you, that smile still playing at the corners of his mouth, as if he were memorizing the moment.

"Lamine! The ball, man!" the shout of one of his friends finally reached him, more insistent. (The ball, man)

He seemed to come out of a trance. He took a step back, but his eyes never left you.

"Looks like they're calling me," he said, spinning the ball between his fingertips with a skill that was second nature. "I guess this match will have to continue another time."

You just nodded, unable to form words.

"Take care of that blouse," he said, starting to back away, his smile still wide and irresistible. "I might want to win it from you next time. A trophy."

And before you could answer anything, he was already running back to the water's edge, but not without looking back one last time, his gaze meeting yours for one last second that seemed to last an eternity.

Her friends, who had been completely silent, burst into excited whispers as soon as he was far enough away.

"OMG, he was literally ogling you!" "Did you see the way he looked at the shield? I thought he was going to have a fit!" "So? What did he say?!"

You leaned back in your chair, trying to look composed, but your hand trembled slightly as you adjusted your sunglasses on your nose. You picked up your juice glass for something to hold on to.

The sweet, icy taste of the drink barely registered. All you could feel was the warmth of the sun where his shadow had been moments before, and the echo of that voice, that taunt, that unspoken promise.

Lamine Yamal rejoined the game, but his passes seemed a little less precise, his gaze straying a little more frequently toward the beach chairs. And you, wearing the rival's colors, had the distinct feeling that this wouldn't be the last time your paths crossed on that beach. The game, after all, had just begun.

Taglist: @paucubarsisimp @nngkay @meganesanchez @htpssgavi @merinottt @luvvpedri @moonvr @joaosnovia @httpsdana @ilovebarcaaaa @p4uul0vr @pedricando @barcapix @owala6789

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I have an idea for Ferran Torres x Reader where they are enemies but she Fell pregnant by him and now they have to get along with eachother and he is there for her. He loves the way she Looks with the bump and knowing its his Child.🥰

SWEET LOOK

→ Pairing:Torres x reader

→ Warning: no.

→ Author's note: Please give him a son 😭🙏🏻

And sorry if there are mistakes, English is not my language.I hope this is what you asked for. photos taken by me!

The air in the luxury apartment was heavy, charged with the unspoken silence of months of hostility. She stood in front of the panoramic window, gazing at the Barcelona skyline, but without really seeing anything. Her trembling hands rested on the firm, round bulge of her belly. Twenty-six weeks. Six months of a silent revolution happening within her, and a noisy whirlwind outside.

The key turned in the lock, each click echoing like a gunshot in the silent hallway. She didn't need to turn around to know who it was. Only he had that key, a right he refused to give up, despite everything.

Ferran Torres entered with the caution of someone entering a minefield. His silent shoes echoed on the marble floor. He saw her from behind, her once athletic figure now softened and transformed by pregnancy. The oversized coat she wore could no longer hide the evident curve of her belly. To Ferran, it was the most magnificent and terrifying sight in the world.

The war between them had begun on corporate turf. She, a brilliant marketing consultant hired to manage the image of a new sports line; he, the star endorser, accustomed to having his every whim catered to. There were months of heated arguments, passive-aggressive emails, and a tension so palpable it could have fueled the city. The attraction was undeniable, a dangerous thread pulsing beneath the anger. And one night, after a major victory and too much champagne, the fine line between hate and desire was blurred. It was intense, passionate, and the next day, treated as a mistake by both.

Until her world came crashing down with two lines on a drugstore test.

She turned slowly, her eyes meeting his. His, melancholy, were fixed on her stomach. He looked older, the youthful arrogance she knew replaced by a heavy seriousness.

"You came," she said, her voice softer than she intended.

"I said I'd come after practice. I did," he replied, his voice a little hoarse. He dropped his keys in the porcelain bowl by the entrance and approached, not like the adversary she knew, but with an unfamiliar hesitation. "How... how are you? The baby?"

"Active," she murmured, placing a hand on her belly. "Very active today."

Silence fell again. Ferran stopped a few feet away from her, his fists clenched slightly. He seemed to be waging an internal battle.

"¿Puedo?" the word came out almost as a whisper, her eyes begging for permission.

She hesitated, but then nodded, a barely perceptible movement. That was what confused her. Since she'd discovered she was pregnant, the arrogant man had disappeared. In his place was someone persistent, present, and... frighteningly devoted. He didn't pressure her, didn't demand anything, he simply showed up. He scheduled all her doctor's appointments, stocked her fridge with the foods she craved, and read the same books on parenting as she did.

Ferran closed the distance between them. Slowly, as if approaching something precious and fragile, he knelt. He didn't touch her immediately, just stared, his expression a mix of reverence and disbelief.

"God," he sighed, his breath catching. "Look at you."

She felt a chill run down her spine. "I'm huge."

"You look... radiant," he corrected, his voice filled with an emotion she'd never heard before. Finally, he lifted his hands and placed them on her stomach, his palms warm even through the fabric of her coat.

She held her breath. It was the first time he'd touched her like this, with an intention that wasn't medical or practical. It was pure.

Just then, the baby kicked, a strong, purposeful movement right into the palm of Ferran's hand.

His eyes widened, and a sound somewhere between a sigh and a laugh escaped his lips. He looked at her face, and for the first time in months, there was no trace of their old rivalry. There was only awe and pure, raw admiration.

"He kicked me," Ferran whispered in wonder. "Or her. Wow. This is... this is ours."

Those two words echoed in the room. Ours. It wasn't his problem or yours anymore. It was theirs.

He leaned forward, kneeling again, and pressed his face against her belly, closing his eyes. He lay still for a long moment, listening, feeling.

"I know we didn't plan this. I know I was an idiot...that I might still be an idiot," he said, his voice muffled by the fabric of his coat. "But I look at you, carrying our child, and something inside me...changes. All the anger, all the pride, seems insignificant."

He pulled away enough to look into her eyes, and she saw stubborn tears welling up in his eyes.

"I don't want to be your enemy. Not anymore. I want to be here. For you. For him. For her. For whatever it takes. Let me prove it."

She felt her own ice barrier crack. For months, she had prepared for the battle, for the custody argument, for the hostile negotiation. She wasn't ready for this. For this vulnerable, complete surrender. For the look in his eyes that wasn't just one of responsibility, but of something deeper, more primal. It was possessive, yes, but in a way that made her feel protected, not threatened. It was the look of a man who saw the woman carrying his child and placed her on an untouchable pedestal.

She lowered her hand and placed it over his, which was still on her stomach. Her fingers intertwined with his.

"I'm scared," she admitted, her voice breaking.

"Me too," he confessed immediately, shamelessly. "But let's be afraid together. It's better than destroying ourselves separately."

He stood, still holding her hand, and gently pulled her into a hug. She fit perfectly under his chin, her belly between them, a palpable reminder of why they were here. He wrapped his arms around her, an embrace that was both a safe haven and a promise.

She didn't know what the future held. Old habits die hard, and the road ahead wouldn't be easy. But in that moment, with the setting sun bathing the room in golden light and their son kicking between their embraced bodies, hatred seemed a distant memory. There was only that fragile, powerful moment, his scent, the safety of his arms, and the quiet, overwhelming beauty of a new beginning neither of them could have ever imagined. Ferran whispered into her hair, the words she never knew she needed to hear:

"I'm here. Forever."

Taglist: @paucubarsisimp @nngkay @meganesanchez @htpssgavi @merinottt @luvvpedri @moonvr @joaosnovia @httpsdana @ilovebarcaaaa @p4uul0vr @pedricando @barcapix @owala6789

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What lingers

a/n: idk if I nailed it or not, but I just hope y’all catch the vibe

pov - you

i didn’t believe it when i saw you. i hated my body for reacting, for trembling, for wanting. as if it still remembered the touch of your hand on my waist, the sound of your low laugh against my ear. and i hate to admit it, but i felt the ache of missing you. missing someone who is no longer mine, yet still manages to hold me captive with just one look.

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I already miss Hector 😭💔

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I open Instagram and the first photo I see is Hector on another team 😭 even if it's on loan

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heyy, could you write about Marc Bernal and reader being in a secret relationship but fans were thinking they were nothing so they kept making edits of them [seperate clips] until one day when reader decided to make a live on Insta, Marc accidentally appears in the background for a moment, making the media blow up [you can finish it how you want to!]

accidental soft launch.

masterlist requests word count: 990

a/n: i actually really like writing for bernal lol genre: fluff. warnings: none.

summary: while on an instagram live, you accidentally soft launch you and marc's relationship, which you'd previously been keeping a secret.

You had always known being with Marc meant secrecy. Not because he was ashamed, not because you were scared, but because the timing just felt delicate. He was young, breaking into Barcelona’s first team, and you knew eyes were always on him. If the world found out about you two, it would no longer be just the two of you. It would be a million opinions, headlines, and judgment from strangers who thought they knew better.

So you kept it private. The stolen glances when cameras were around, the quiet phone calls late at night, the shared playlists you both had to hide from public Spotify profiles. Your relationship existed in the negative spaces, between the shadows and the silence.

What made it both easier and harder was the way fans unknowingly made it into a game. They loved Marc. They loved you, too, since you had your own little online presence through fashion, lifestyle vlogs, and the occasional football-related post. The internet loved connections, so your names got tossed into edits sometimes. The edits were always harmless, side-by-side clips of Marc laughing in a post-match interview and you laughing in a TikTok, with captions like “same vibe” or “if only they knew each other.”

You would watch them with Marc on his couch, the two of you doubled over in laughter at how dramatic the music was. “This one says we’d be soulmates,” you said once, scrolling through fan edits while Marc rested his chin on your shoulder.

“They’re right,” he whispered, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before you could complain about him distracting you.

Every time fans paired you up like that, you both swore the universe was playing a cruel little joke. They had no idea how close to the truth they were.

Still, you and Marc stayed quiet. The secret became yours to protect, and for months, you did it flawlessly.

Until one lazy Sunday afternoon.

You were sitting on Marc’s bed, hair in a messy bun, no makeup on, the softest hoodie you owned wrapped around you. He was moving around the room behind you, switching between folding his clothes and trying to beat you at whatever music quiz game you had put on the TV. You had decided to go live on Instagram, something you hadn’t done in a while, to chat with your followers while sipping on a smoothie.

“Hi guys,” you greeted, smiling into the camera. The comments flew in instantly, people spamming emojis and asking questions about your week. You started answering them casually, joking about your latest vlog, chatting about skincare, even ranting a little about how Barcelona’s match the night before had nearly given you a heart attack.

For the most part, Marc was quiet in the background. He had put his headphones in, humming to himself as he sorted laundry. You were so used to his presence that you almost forgot he was there.

Until he wasn’t just in your world. He was in everyone else’s.

It happened so fast you almost missed it. Marc had walked across the room to grab his phone, and for a split second, the camera caught him in the corner of the frame. His profile was unmistakable - the slight blonde in his hair, Barça training shorts, the way he carried himself. He noticed right away and froze like a deer caught in headlights, eyes flicking toward you before ducking out of sight.

But it was too late.

The comments section exploded.

“WAS THAT MARC???” “NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY.” “you casually have a barça player in the back??? 😭😭” “girl explain.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach. “Uh,” you laughed nervously, trying to keep your tone light, “what are you guys talking about?”

But the internet wasn’t stupid. Screenshots were already flying around. People were clipping the live and slowing it down, circling Marc’s blurry figure in the corner of the frame like amateur detectives.

Marc peeked his head out from behind the doorway, biting back a grin at your panicked expression. “You’re cooked,” he mouthed silently.

“Don’t,” you whispered, covering your mic with your hand for a second, glaring at him.

The live carried on for another five minutes before you excused yourself and ended it abruptly, tossing your phone onto the bed with a groan. “We’re screwed,” you muttered, burying your face in your hands.

Marc sat beside you, calm as ever, his arm slipping around your shoulders. “We’re not screwed,” he said softly. “It was bound to happen at some point.”

“Marc, they’re going to go insane. Look at them.” You gestured at your phone, where notifications were already spiraling out of control. “There are Twitter threads, TikToks, edits. It’s everywhere.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple. “And what’s so bad about that? They already thought we’d be good together. Now they just know we are.”

You peeked at him through your fingers. He looked completely unbothered, like the weight of the world wasn’t about to crash onto your heads. His calmness was infuriating but also grounding.

“They’re going to ask questions,” you said quietly.

“Then we answer them,” Marc replied. “Or we don’t. It’s our choice.”

The way he said it made you feel lighter. You realized he was right. This wasn’t some scandal. You weren’t doing anything wrong. You were just two people who cared about each other, who happened to get caught in one blurry Instagram Live frame.

By that evening, “MARC AND Y/N” was trending. The edits were back, only now with proof, the old clips spliced together with the moment Marc walked through your live. Fans were losing their minds, half screaming about how obvious it had been all along, half celebrating like they had personally set you up.

Marc scrolled through them on his phone, laughing at the captions. “‘They’re endgame.’ That’s my favorite one,” he said, showing you the screen.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your smile. “You love this, don’t you?”

He shrugged, leaning in to kiss you again, slow and deliberate. “I love you. And if people know, they know. I’m not hiding that anymore.”

And just like that, the secret no longer felt like a burden. The internet could scream and theorize all it wanted. At the end of the day, the edits had been right from the start. You and Marc were always going to be each other’s favorite storyline.

Summary: You and Marc Bernal keep your relationship secret, laughing at fan edits pairing you together without knowing the truth. During an Instagram Live, Marc accidentally appears in the background, sparking a media frenzy. Instead of panicking, Marc reassures you, and the two of you embrace the reveal, knowing your love was never meant to stay hidden forever.

Do you want me to extend this to show like a little “day after” scene with fans reacting in public, or do you prefer it ending with that quiet moment of Marc deciding he doesn’t want to hide anymore?

[universefcb]

Hello queen, could you make a fic about Ferran X reader, where her apartment leaks and she needs a place to stay. A mutual friend lets her share it temporarily with... Ferran. Between games, movies and fights over the air conditioning, an unlikely romance begins.

Xoxo, MelMel 💋

A/N sorry this too so long I’ve been busy with life and had awful writers block but I’m back!!! After a long and frankly disastrous day all I wanted was to just rot in bed until the morning but of course with the day I've had it couldn't be that simple. I knew something was wrong as soon as I got to the floor my apartment is on and there were multiple plumbers going up and down the stairs. Then I got to my door and found it open and water on the carpet outside. Looking inside the whole place was flooded there was a good few inches of water everywhere and the ceiling was dripping. Many people would've cried and on any other day I would do the same but today I'm just numb it just feels like another thing that's gone wrong. 

"Hello miss is this your apartment?" One of the plumbers asked 

"Yes it is what happened?" I asked 

"The apartment above had a leak and all the water came through to your apartment the only room that isn't flooded is the bedroom but there is some water on the floor from the living room" he explained 

"So what do I do?" I asked 

"You can't stay here the whole place needs to be dried out and re done to stop mould forming your landlord already knows but it's up to them what you do so I'd call them" he said

"Thank you I'll do that then I'll be right back to collect some of my things" I said 

As always my landlord was the most frustrating person to talk to but eventually after I threatened to sue him we came to an agreement although this agreement didn't give me somewhere to live. We agreed that he would pay to replace all my stuff that got damaged and I wouldn't have to pay rent until the place was liveable again but I have to find somewhere to stay on my own. It's in times like this that I regret moving so far away from home because I can't just stay with my parents or siblings all I've got is my friends but most of them live with roommates and have no spare rooms. The only person I could think to call was my best friend Aria who I know is out of town but her boyfriend plays for Barcelona so I just have to hope one of them knows someone who can help me. 

"Hey girl how are you?" Aria asked as soon as I called 

"I've been better my whole apartment is flooded and I have nowhere to go that's actually why I was calling I know you're out of town but I was hoping you or Eric would know someone I could call" I explained 

"Oh god girl I'm so sorry I'll call Eric right now and call you back I promise we'll find you somewhere to stay" she said 

While I waited to hear back from Aria I packed up as much of my stuff as I could in the suitcases I have. Luckily most of my clothes were all fine and so was my laptop which is one positive to come out of this whole thing so far. By the time I had packed I got a call back from Aria telling me that one of Eric's teammates was coming to pick me up and he already had my address so all I had to do was take all my stuff and wait. I took my stuff out to the front of the building then it begun to rain. Just as I was moving all my things back under cover in the lobby I stopped feeling the rain on me and when I looked back Ferran was stood holding an umbrella over me. 

I've met Ferran a few times when with Aria but we aren't exactly close. I should probably be more opposed to staying with him seeing as we don't know each other that well but at this point I'm desperate. If Eric and Aria trust him and if he agreed then surely things can't be that bad, plus I don't plan to stay there long I just need a few days to sort something out. Ferran had a sympathetic smile as he handed me the umbrella leaving himself in the rain while I stayed sheltered. 

"Hey are you doing ok?" He asked 

"As ok as I can be thank you for letting me stay with you it'll only be for a few days until I get something else figured out" I said 

"Don't worry about that you can stay as long as you need I just want you to make sure you're safe" he said 

"On the way back we can stop at the store if you need anything I have some basics in the bathroom but I don't know what you were able to take" he added 

"The bathroom was a disaster so I haven't got anything from there they wouldn’t even let me go in" I said 

"Then we'll go shopping" he said 

He grabbed all my stuff for me and put it in his car I didn't have to do anything and he opened the passenger door for me. I'm sure this level of kindness won't last and I don't expect it to as we both have our separate lives to live but after the day I've had it's nice to have someone be so kind. Like he promised we went to the store and I got all the things I absolutely needed which isn't too much luckily as I don't have the money to spend on all new toiletries. I asked Ferran to find some toothpaste while I got some other things and when he came back I was done so I headed towards the tills but he stopped me. He insisted I replace everything I would have in my bathroom and he'd pay for it. I tried to tell him I couldn't let him do that but he insisted and wouldn't take no for an answer so I gave in. 

When we made it back to his place Ferran brought my things inside and gave me some towels so I could shower and change. By the time I came back down he had almost finished making dinner so I set the table so we can both eat together. Eating together was actually really nice we got to know each other better and realised we actually have a lot in common as we are both from Valencia and have similar interests. After dinner we both sat and watched a movie together while still talking until it got late and we both had to get some sleep. 

~~~~~~~~~~

When my alarm went off I panicked slightly not recognising the room I was sleeping in but I quickly remembered everything that happened yesterday and calmed down. When getting ready I hadn't taken into account the extra time it would take me to figure out where everything is so by the time I made it downstairs I was running late. Ferran was already awake and in the kitchen with a cup of coffee for himself and another one which he handed to me as well as some toast. 

"Good morning I don't know what you usually have for breakfast but I thought coffee and toast was a safe bet" he said 

"Thank you I don't usually have breakfast so this is an upgrade" I said 

"Well I have to have breakfast before training so I'll always make enough for you" he smiled 

"I really appreciate that thank you I'll have to make time to eat it every day but I'm already running late today so I've got to go" I said 

"Wait before you go I have a key for you so you don't have to worry about me being around to let you in" he said 

Something about this morning felt weirdly domestic and it was all I could think about while on the bus to work. I always knew Ferran was a good guy but he's been exceptionally nice to me and really made me feel welcome in his home even though he has no reason to. Before I was skeptical about staying with Ferran but now I'm not so worried about staying there until I can find somewhere else to stay. 

~~~~~~~~~~

It's been a week since my apartment flooded and I'm still staying with Ferran. I tried to look for somewhere else to stay but every place I looked at was way too much money so he told me to stop looking and that I should just stay with him until my apartment is ready. I didn't want to do that as he won't take any money from me and I don't want to get in the way but he insisted so here I am still here. 

We've had a lot of fun over our first week together we've had a couple movie nights together and tonight Ferran planned a game night with a few of his teammates which he told me I have to join. I had the day off so to try and do something to repay Ferran for everything has has done to help me I took myself to the grocery store to get some stuff to make a load of snacks for everyone. I've always loved baking so I got the ingredients to make cookies and cupcakes which of course I decorated in barca colours. By the time I finished, cleaned up and got myself ready Ferran was walking through the door with Pedri with him. 

"It smells amazing in here" Pedri announced as he walked in 

"Wait did you make all of those?" Ferran asked as soon as he saw the cookies and cupcakes 

"Yeah I had time and I love to bake plus I thought you guys might like a treat" I said 

"They look delicious thank you" Pedri said 

"Thank you so much your the best" Ferran said going to grab a cupcake 

"You can't have one yet wait for everyone to get here" I said swatting his had away 

"Fine but only because I know you'll kill me if I take one" he said 

"You bet I will" I laughed 

There was still a few more things to set up before everyone else arrived so Ferran and I worked together to get drinks and games ready like a well oiled machine even though we've never done it before. When we were done everyone else turned up and within minutes everyone had a cookie or cupcake in their hand and I received endless compliments on my baking. They were all talking about football which I don't know enough about to join in so I just sat on my phone until Ferran put an arm around my shoulders and changed the topic so I could talk with everyone too. 

After we all talked and ate snacks game night began. Seeing as there was so many of us we had to get into pairs to play together which worried me until Ferran claimed me as his partner. First we played fifa which I'd never played but Ferran taught me how to play and we did a pretty good job after I got the hang of it. Playing against a bunch of footballers made me realise I'm not competitive at all I was just happy to learn how to play but they all wanted to beat each other more than anything. We played a load more games including mario kart which I'm an expert at before Ferran suggested Pictionary. It was only once we started I realised Ferran can't draw to save his life which made it next to impossible to guess what he was supposed to be drawing. 

"Why would you suggest Pictionary when you can't even draw a stick man" I said after a particularly bad drawing 

"I though my drawing was perfect" Ferran said feigning offence 

"The stick figure had no arms" I argued 

"It was my artistic interpretation" he argued back 

"You two argue like a married couple" Eric laughed 

"We do not" Ferran snapped back

"You do you argue then you make up then you argue again then you crush us all at mario kart" Pedri said 

"You guys are just mad you lost" Ferran said 

All the guys left around 2am leaving just me and Ferran to clean up which he said I didn't need to help with but I did anyway. By the time we were done it was nearly 3am and I was exhausted so I flopped myself down on the sofa and Ferran did the same right next to me. I knew I needed to get up and go to bed but laying down just felt so good that I didn't want to move. One moment I was laying on the sofa telling myself I'd just rest my eyes for a minute then the next thing I knew someone was carrying me up the stairs. My eyes opened slightly to see Ferran as he placed me in bed gently and placed a kiss to my forehead which sent sparks flying around my body then he left like nothing ever happened while I laid awake thinking about the way he kissed me. 

~~~~~~~~~~

My time at Ferran's has gone by so quickly it's been three months but it's felt like 3 weeks. At the end of last week I got a call to say my apartment would be ready this weekend. Since then a lot has happened, when I told Ferran about my apartment being ready he admitted he had feelings for me. It was the last thing I expected him to say but I was happy to hear it because I've developed feelings for him too. I feel like it was inevitable after we spent everyday together cooking, watching movies even working out together. Aria tried to tell me Ferran liked me and that he was flirting with me but I just saw it was friendly banter but looking back she was right we were both flirting with each other without realising. 

Since then we have been exploring our feelings for each other by going on a few dates. One night he took me to dinner, then we had a day at the beach together and then last night we spent the night outside under the stars. Ferran has turned into a proper romantic since we admitted our feelings for each other he got me flowers the next day and since then he's made me breakfast every morning and brought me lunch during work twice. It's probably too early to say but so far I have to say he's perfect he treats me right but he also truly cares about me which is something I've not had in my past relationships. 

Things have been perfect for the last week and now I'm going back to my apartment and things are going to change which I'm a little scared of. Our relationship has definitely started in an unconventional way as we've been living together and sleeping together in the same bed for the last week so not doing those things is going to change the dynamic massively. I know it will be good for us to have some time apart and build our relationship properly but I don't want to leave this little bubble we have found ourselves in. 

Ferran had training early this morning so while he was gone I finished packing and brought everything downstairs ready to load up into Ferran's car as he's helping me. When he came back he had lunch with him for us to enjoy an our last little date before have less time when we go back to our separate lives. Even though it was just lunch Ferran really made the effort to make it special and he was very affectionate giving me lots of kisses and cuddling up with me. We had a great time but eventually we both knew we had to start moving my stuff so we did. 

It felt weird to go back to my apartment as I haven't seen it in three months but I have to say it looked so much better and had a lot less water in. I gave Ferran a little tour and showed him all my pictures and things I've kept over the years so he could get to know me better. We actually had fun discovering things I'd forgotten about as we were unpacking as I got to reminisce and Ferran got to laugh at my cringy school photos. Sadly all good times must come to an end and I only have so much stuff so when we finished unpacking it was time for us to say goodbye. 

"God I hate this I don't want to go back home without you" Ferran said 

"Who would've guessed we'd be here three months later not wanting to leave each others sides" I said 

"Yeah its been crazy and I'm going to make it even crazier by asking if you'll be my girlfriend" he asked 

"I can’t think of anything I'd like more" I said 

"Also you better come stay with me a couple nights a week otherwise I'll have withdraws" he laughed 

"Oh I'll be there I can't go too long without our movie nights and late night talks" I said 

"Good I'll see you tomorrow" he said 

"Tomorrow?" I questioned 

"I've got tickets waiting for you for our game tomorrow and I may have put a shirt in your wardrobe for you to wear" he smiled 

"I'm excited to wear it and I'm excited to see you play" I said 

"I should go but know I'm going to miss you more than you know my place is going to feel so empty without my new roommate" he said 

"Your new roommate is going to miss you too" I said 

[universefcb]

Fill me with requests! From any player, except RM😭✊🏻

[universefcb]

Hey could you write about reader being at Marc Bernal’s family dinner/party and him being clingy/affectionate towards her and realising that she is the ONE and if you can do an moment where Marc’s family also realise she’s the one and how much they love each other please ? :))

RECOVERY IN EVERY LOOK

→ Pairing: Marc Bernal x reader

→ Warning: fluff.

→ Author's note: I love him

And sorry if there are mistakes, English is not my language.I hope this is what you asked for. photos taken by me!

The Bernals' apartment was filled with the chaos characteristic of a family dinner. Loud voices in Catalan and Spanish mingled with the clatter of cutlery and laughter, while the aroma of paella and saffron permeated the air. You were in the center of it all, seated at the long table, surrounded by Marc's parents, his sisters, uncles, and cousins.

Since arriving, Marc hadn't moved an inch away from you. His hand, large and warm, rested on your thigh under the table, a constant, reassuring point of warmth. His arm was constantly draped around your shoulders, gently pulling you into his side whenever you laughed at one of his dad's jokes or told a story.

It wasn't unusual for Marc to be affectionate, but that night there was a different intensity. An almost palpable need to keep you close, as if he feared you would vanish into thin air like smoke if he let go even a little. His touch was lingering yet gentle; possessive yet deeply protective. A kiss on the top of your head as he talked to your younger sister, his chin resting on your shoulder as he listened intently to a story from your grandfather, his fingers intertwined with yours on the tablecloth.

You smiled, squeezing his hand in response to one of these gestures, and he looked at you. And that's when you saw it. His eyes, normally playful and full of light, were serious, deep, fixed on you with an admiration so great and so genuine that you almost lost your breath. There was a universe of certainty in that look. He wasn't just looking at you; he was seeing you. And deep in those brown eyes, you read the clearest truth you'd ever seen: to him, you were the only one. The only person in the noisy room who truly mattered. The only one with whom he wanted to share every noisy dinner, every laugh, every silence.

And his family noticed.

It was the grandmother who caught it first. Her wise eyes narrowed into a soft smile as she watched her grandson, usually so outgoing and energetic, completely absorbed and serene beside her. She gave her husband a gentle nudge and inclined her head discreetly toward the couple.

Marc's mother noticed as she brought another platter of seafood to the table. She saw the way her son, without even taking his eyes off you, automatically picked up the napkin that was about to fall from your lap, arranging it with a care she'd never seen in him before. Her mother's heart clenched with happiness. This wasn't the boisterous boy she'd raised; he was a man, completely captivated.

His father noticed late in the evening, when the conversation was flowing and the wine glasses were nearly empty. Marc was leaning back in his chair, you nestled snugly under his arm, your head resting on his shoulder. He wasn't participating in the lively football discussion; instead, he was whispering something in your ear, something that made you blush and chuckle softly, a sound that made Marc smile as if he'd won the lottery. He saw the peace in his son's face. He saw the silent complicity between the two of you. And he nodded, satisfied, to his wife.

They exchanged glances—the grandmother, the parents, the sisters. And in a silent, collective agreement, they all knew. The person standing beside Marc wasn't just another girlfriend. She was the one. The only one.

When you got up to help carry some dishes to the kitchen, Marc held your hand for a second longer, reluctant to let you go. Your younger sister took the plate from your other hand with a smile.

"Leave it, I'll take it. You keep my brother's sticky one," she said with a fond laugh.

And everyone laughed, but it was a laugh of acceptance, of welcome into the clan. Marc pulled you back to his side, and you fell back into the chair beside him, laughing. He wrapped his arms around you, buried his face in your neck, and whispered, just for you to hear, in a husky tone of pure adoration:

"It's you. Only you."

In that moment, surrounded by your family—who were now our family—there was no doubt. To Marc Bernal, you were, and always would be, the only one.

Taglist: @paucubarsisimp @nngkay @meganesanchez @htpssgavi @merinottt @luvvpedri @moonvr @joaosnovia @httpsdana @ilovebarcaaaa @p4uul0vr @pedricando @barcapix @owala6789

[universefcb]

Hii sorry for the bother but I have a fuc request with Pau cubarsi I thought about reader is slightly older him (about a year or two) and she's stressing out because of her uni finals, maybe she's studying with something medicine related. Only if you comfortable with it thank you for the future

MENTAL FATIGUE

→ Pairing: Pau Cubarsí x reader

→ Warning: Mentally tired reader, anxious reader, fluff ending.

→ Author's note: Not gonna lie, this has been in my drafts since May😭

And sorry if there are mistakes, English is not my language.I hope this is what you asked for. photos taken by me!

The apartment was plunged into a tense silence, broken only by the frantic turning of pages and the muffled click of pen on paper. You were hunched in your desk chair, an intimidating stack of anatomy and physiology books spreading like a fortress around you. Your eyes burned from staring at diagrams of muscular systems and endless tables of drug interactions. Fatigue weighed heavily on your shoulders, and anxiety about your medical school finals formed a tight knot in your stomach.

You took a deep breath, trying to contain the wave of panic that threatened to overwhelm you. It was 3 p.m. on a Saturday, and you'd been there since 7 a.m., and everything still felt like it wasn't enough. The feeling that you'd never be able to absorb all that information was overwhelming.

The soft knock on the door almost went unnoticed amidst his inner turmoil.

“Can I pass?” The voice was low, melodic, a serene contrast to the cacophony inside his head.

You didn't need to answer. The door opened slowly, and Pau Cubarsi appeared in the doorway, his clear, expressive eyes filled with immediate concern. He wore a comfortable sweatshirt and carried a small cloth bag in his hand. He watched you for a moment, saw the tension in the back of your neck, the way your fingers gripped the pen like a lifeline.

“My God, my love,” he murmured, closing the door softly. “You look like you’re going to faint at any moment.”

He didn't wait for an answer. He placed the cloth bag on the bed and approached you from behind. His hands, firm yet incredibly gentle, rested on your shoulders. You involuntarily arched your back, a deep, shaky sigh escaping your lips as his thumbs began to make slow, precise circles on the tense muscles of your neck and shoulders.

“It’s freezing,” he commented, his voice a whisper close to her ear. His hands were warm, dispelling the chill of stress. “Standing here for hours. This isn’t healthy.”

“I have to finish,” you argued, your voice weak and cracked with exhaustion. “The pharmacology exam is on Monday, and I don’t remember anything. Nothing.”

"Shhh," he soothed, continuing his masterful massage. "Remember, you just need a break. Your brain gets tired too, you know?" He leaned down and pressed a light kiss to the top of her head. "Five minutes. Trust me."

Your resistance crumbled. The perfect pressure of his hands was dissolving the knot of anxiety rib by rib. You let your head fall forward, allowing yourself, for the first time that day, to simply feel and not think.

After a few precious minutes, he stopped.

“Come,” he ordered gently, taking your hand and gently pulling you up. He guided you to the bed and sat you down on the edge. “Close your eyes.”

Intrigued and too exhausted to question, you obeyed. You heard him open the cloth bag and the sound of a lid being unscrewed. A calming scent of chamomile filled the air.

“What is this?” you asked, eyes still closed.

"A gift from my mother. She says it's for stress," he explained, and you felt his fingertips, now smeared with slightly warmed oil, gently touch your temples. "She sent it when I told her my older, very intelligent, and very dedicated girlfriend was working too much."

His hands began to move, massaging your temples in hypnotic circular motions, then sliding to your forehead, smoothing the space between your brows, which you hadn't even realized were furrowed. The pressure was perfect, the scent was soothing, and his meticulous care was almost too much to bear. A hot tear escaped the corner of your eye and rolled down your cheek.

“Hey, hey,” he whispered, stopping immediately. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

“It’s just…” you choked, opening your eyes and seeing his face, full of empathy and affection, so close to yours. “It’s so hard. And you’re so good to me. I don’t deserve it.”

He looked at you with a seriousness unusual for a boy his age.

“Don’t say that. Never say that. You’re the strongest person I know. And if I can be your rock when things get tough, then that’s what I want to do. It’s my job.” He wiped the tear away with his thumb. “Now lie on your stomach.”

Once again, you followed his instructions. He sat beside you on the bed and resumed the massage, this time on your back, shoulders, and arms. He didn't speak, focusing entirely on the task of relieving the physical tension building in your body. The outside world disappeared. The exams, the books, the fear—everything dissolved under the soothing, secure touch of his hands.

After a time that felt like an eternity and an instant at the same time, he stopped. “Now, the most important part,” he announced, standing up.

You turned onto your side, propping yourself up on your elbow, and watched as he reached into his backpack and pulled out a small cooler. Inside was a plastic bowl with a lid and a thermos cup.

“Food. My other specialty,” he said with a mischievous smile, opening the bowl to reveal a fresh pasta salad with grilled chicken and colorful vegetables. “The club nutritionist always says carbs and protein are good for energy. And this,” he opened the cup, and the rich aroma of hot chocolate filled the air, “is for the soul.”

He tidied up his desk, pushing the books aside to make room, and placed the food in front of him, handing him a fork.

“Pau, you… you cook?” you asked, completely surprised.

He shrugged, a modest blush creeping up his neck. “I’ve learned the basics. It’s nothing special. But it’s better than not eating at all.”

You took your first bite. It was perfect. Tasty, nutritious, and, above all, prepared with such care that your heart ached. While you ate, he sat on the floor, leaning against your leg, and picked up one of his pharmacology books.

“Read to me,” he urged, flipping through the pages filled with dense text. “Sometimes saying things out loud helps.”

You hesitated. “But it’s so boring. And you won’t understand.”

He looked at you, a stubborn glint in his clear eyes. “It doesn’t have to be interesting to me. It’s important to you. So it’s important to me. Please.”

So, you began reading quietly, explaining the complex metabolic pathways of a beta-blocker. He listened with fierce concentration, asking surprisingly insightful questions that suddenly forced your brain to process the information in a new, clearer way. He wasn't a medical student, but he was an elite athlete, and he understood discipline, focus, and hard work. His mind was agile, and he now used it as a tool to help you organize your thoughts.

For almost an hour, you studied like this. You explained, he questioned, and the material that had seemed like an insurmountable monster began to organize itself into digestible and understandable chunks. Anxiety gave way to a fragile but real sense of confidence.

When you finally closed the book, the sun was already beginning to set, casting hues of orange and purple across the room. The exhaustion was still there, but that sharp despair, the feeling of drowning, had vanished.

You glanced at Pau, who was now clearing away the dishes, his soft profile illuminated by the evening light. He was young, yes, two years younger, but in that moment, with his quiet maturity and unwavering compassion, he seemed like the most solid anchor in the world.

“Pau,” you called, your voice thick with an emotion you couldn’t contain.

He turned around immediately.

“Yes? Do you need anything else? More chocolate? A blanket?”

You shook your head, standing up and crossing the small space to him. You wrapped your arms around his waist and buried your face in his chest, in the familiar scent of his sweatshirt and his soft perfume.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your words muffled against the fabric. “Thank you for… for everything. For being you.”

He wrapped you in a tight hug, resting his chin on top of your head.

"No hay de qué, mi vida," he whispered back, his voice a soothing vibration against you. "Always. Whatever you need, I'll be here. Now, promise me you'll get some sleep before you get back to your books."

You groaned against his chest. For the first time that day, you believed everything would be okay. Not because of the books or the grades, but because you had someone by your side who, with simple acts of kindness and a huge heart, reminded you that you weren't alone in the battle. And that was the greatest strength of all.

Taglist: @paucubarsisimp @nngkay @meganesanchez @htpssgavi @merinottt @luvvpedri @moonvr @joaosnovia @httpsdana @ilovebarcaaaa @p4uul0vr @pedricando @barcapix @owala6789

[universefcb]

sooo cute

[universefcb]

Fill me with requests! From any player, except RM😭✊🏻

[universefcb]

Hey love, would you Write a smutty Oneshot about Marc Bernal? I imagined me being someones sister for example, Frenkie De Jongs. I came here with him and his wife when he started playing for Barça. There has always been tension between us and we started sleeping with eachother a while ago. It could be some sort of Season opening Team Dinner where Theres a lot of sexual tension between us and we then leave together and have mind blowing Sex as always. I also think he would love giving Head.

I don't write smut, it's in the rules for making a request. Go there and read it, to request something other than smut :)