I’d Like To Thank Allah, Lewandowski, Raphinha And Lamine Yamal For My Happiness And For The Fact That

❦ - one wrong digit.

summary:: joao wanted to call his ex, instead slipping up a digit leading to you. but was it really just a slip up?

warnings:: none! y/n mentioned tho

writers note:: RIGHT THIS IS MY RANG SPOT. how am i flopping this hard? excuse me. i’m lowkey gonna crash out i’ve fallen off and i haven’t even reached the height of my career yet?? also why is all of joaos delicious photos gotta be monotone bro step up! lmk if you want a part two of this.

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

you’re halfway through making a cup of tea when your phone rings. the number flashing on the screen isn’t saved in your contacts, but curiosity gets the best of you, and you swipe to answer.

‘hello?’

silence. then, a hesitant voice. ‘uh… hello?’

you frown. the guy on the other end sounds confused, almost unsure if he meant to call. ‘who’s this?’ you ask.

a pause. ‘i… uh… i was trying to call someone else.’

you let out a small laugh. ‘clearly.’

normally, you’d hang up. wrong numbers happen all the time. but something about his voice makes you linger, it’s deep yet soft, carrying a weight you can’t quite place.

‘who am i talking to?’ he asks, still hesitant.

‘you called me.’ you tease. ‘but since you’re curious, i’m y/n, and you?’

he hesitates, like he’s debating whether to tell you. ‘joão.’

‘nice to meet you, joão,’ you say, settling onto your couch. ‘you okay? you sounded kind of… off when you called.’

he exhales, the sound crackling slightly through the speaker. ‘yeah. just… long day.’

‘i get that.’ you shift, making yourself comfortable. ‘want to talk about it?’

he chuckles softly, but there’s something tired in it. ‘you don’t even know me.’

‘sometimes that makes it easier,’ you reply. ‘no pressure, though.’

for a moment, you think he’s going to brush it off. but then, to your surprise, he starts talking. not in long, drawn out sentences, but in small admissions, about football, about expectations, about the kind of loneliness that lingers even when you’re surrounded by people.

and you listen. not because he’s famous (though his name does sound vaguely familiar), but because he sounds like he needs it.

‘sounds like a lot,’ you say when he finishes.

‘yeah.’ his voice is quieter now. ‘sorry. you didn’t sign up for all that.’

‘i mean, i was about to watch a movie, but this is much more interesting,’ you joke.

that earns a soft chuckle from him. ‘what were you gonna watch?’

‘a classic,’ you say. ‘ever seen 10 things i hate about you?’

there’s a brief silence. then, ‘can’t say i have.’

you gasp dramatically. ‘that’s unacceptable. you have to watch it.’

he chuckles. ‘that good?’

‘it’s life changing.’

you hear a faint shuffling sound, like he’s moving on his end. ‘maybe i should.’

‘good,’ you say. ‘that way, next time you accidentally call me, we can discuss it.’

another pause. ‘next time?’

you laugh. ‘unless you’re planning on deleting my number after this.’

there’s something light in his voice when he replies. ‘no. i think i’ll keep it.’

you don’t expect it to turn into anything. but over the next few weeks, joão keeps texting you, sometimes after matches, sometimes just because. the conversations come easily, and soon, it’s not weird at all that a wrong number has somehow turned into a late night talking habit.

What about the opposite of the short reader Gavi fic and instead one where reader is taller then him? Maybe she's teasing him by not letting him kiss her and then with this prompt "I'm your boyfriend and I demand that you kiss me"? Only if you want to though of course❤️

✮ Mujer Bonita - Pablo Gavi

pablo gavi x taller!fem!reader

sy: what the request says.

a/n: this was so great like as a tall girl myself we need a little more recognition so thank youuuu❣️(sorry if this is a lil short)

warnings: no!

heels or flats. boots or barefoot. did it matter?

one thing you found ridiculously adorable in your relationship with pablo, was the incredulous height difference between you two.

whenever you mention a height difference to your friends, family—anyone for that matter—they’re always quick to assume that he’s the taller one.

it’s a societal standard in any existing community, that a relationship only ‘works’ or ‘lasts’ if the guy has the superior height dominance, but you two had shattered that stereotype.

that’s what made it so special.

but, to your utter dismay, he couldn’t resist using it against you.

“pablo! are you ready yet?” you shout from the top of the stairs, adjusting the strap of your dress.

he mumbled something of a reply, the scuttles of his trainers squeaking against the polished laminate. you didn’t need to see if you could hear.

after thrashing some last minute essentials in your purse, you pursued down the stairs and find gavi infront of the mirror, in your hallway.

smoothing down his hair like usual, the unholy amount of fidgeting with the smallest strands of hair, that were barely visible to the human eye.

“i don’t think the fried baby hairs need styling pabs,” you walked over, resting a hand on his shoulder. “they’re too short to even stand up.”

he mutely mimicked the movement of your lips as you spoke, twisting and turning his head just as you always do.

“fried?” he paused mid motion, before his hazel eyes flickered up to meet your in the reflection. “that’s rich coming from someone who nearly cremated her hair trying to curl it last week.”

your jaw palpably dropped. “that was one time!”

“one too many,” he proudly smirked.

sassy for a man that merely reached 5’8.

“are you gonna continue using that attitude with me?” you playfully threaten him in which he steps back in mock fear, but you saw the mischievous glint in his eyes.

laughing under your breath, you turned toward the front door, but before you could reach it, you felt his hands grip at your waist.

pablo had pulled you back, his chin resting against your shoulder as he huffed dramatically.

“you’re doing it again,” he grumbled, skimming his hands along the matte material of your dress.

you bit back a smile. “doing what?”

“you know what,” his arms tightened around you. “everytime i try to kiss you, you act like i need a damn step stool.”

you chuckled, placing a hand over his. “it’s not my fault you’re short.”

“i’m not short,” he whined, pulling away just to step in front of you. “im actually, nationally, the average height.”

you snorted. “yeah for women.”

his mouth fell open slightly, as if offended, before he squinted at you. “you think you’re funny, don’t you?”

“i know so bebé,” you boasted, and gave him a small tap to his chest. “somebody has to have humour in this relationship.”

pablo narrowed his eyes, straightening his posture and licking his lips. “i’m your boyfriend, and i demand you kiss me.”

you pretended to think about it, biting your lip to suppress another laugh. “demand? where did you learn that word? from pedri?”

gavi huffed, exaggeratedly flinging his arms away from you like he was being physically repelled.

“dios mío,” he grumbled under his breath, tugging on his suit jacket as he was about to walk off. “i hate you.”

“hey,” you giggled, reaching for his wrist to pull him back. “i was just messing with you amor, don’t be so serious.”

the spaniard turned his head, followed by a roll of his eyes. “yeah yeah, i’ve heard that before.”

“ohh well if your going to be so dramatic about it,” you hummed, pulling him close to your body and resting your hands on the front of his shoulders.

but were you going to satisfy him so easily?

just to tease him one last time, you leaned down like you were finally caving in—only to pull away at the last second.

pablo groaned in frustration before finally taking matters into his own hands, gripping your face and pulling you down to meet his lips.

the height difference never mattered after all.

🔖🏷️: @n0vazsq @hearzdiarx @paucubarsisimp @diarieeeelils @joaosnovia @httpsdana @universefcb

the awkward night

credits to the owner!

summary: it's just an awkward first night with gavi

warnings: none

pairing: pablo gavi x fem!reader

request: heeyyy can you do one where the reader is so shy person and one day she needs to sleep next to gavi but he sleeps always with only a boxer so she has nothing to accept the situation! thanksssss if you writed it 💖

a/n: oh my days, i hate that one 😭

taglist: @paucubarsisimp, @barcapix, @joaosnovia

requests are open!

masterlist

Relatively, you were an extremely shy person and had no experience in relationships. Your relationship with Gavi was your first and it was still quite new, you had only been together for three months and you had never once stayed at his place or he at yours for the night.

Today, however, he asked you to stay with him for the night, and you hesitantly agreed, not wanting to disappoint him with your strange behavior.

There was no hiding the fact that you were stressed. You were nervous and overthinking how the night would go. Sure, you had laid together before, but you had never slept next to each other, Gavi had accidentally fallen asleep on your lap after a tiring workout, but nothing more.

You were currently in the bathroom, taking deep breaths, trying to calm down. You finally grabbed the doorknob and saw Pablo already lying in bed, waiting for you.

He gave you a smile and opened the duvet for you to join him, which you did very hesitantly. You noticed that the boy was sleeping in only boxers, which made you tense and blush.

You felt awkward, you didn't know how to behave in a new situation for you, and there was no way to avoid it.

Gavi didn't notice your discomfort and just pulled you closer to him, sighing loudly in pleasure. You lay still, as if paralyzed, you couldn't shake the feeling of discomfort, even though he was your boyfriend and you shouldn't feel like that.

At some point, Gavi sensed some anxiety coming from you. He raised his head, looking at you questioningly.

"Is everything okay, honey?" he asked and you sighed. He was so cute and you were complicated.

“Yes, don't worry” you said, smiling slightly, but he didn't believe you.

“Tell me the truth” he said, looking at you with puppy dog eyes.

“No, that's stupid” you said flustered and he clucked, shaking his head.

"It can't be stupid if you're uncomfortable" he announced. "I-Is it me?" he asked uncertainly.

“No, it's just-” you started. "You sleep in boxers and I've never slept with a guy and it's kind of... awkward" you finally confessed, feeling your cheeks heat up with embarrassment.

“Oh” he opened his mouth, but smiled at you. "If you feel better then, I can put on shorts" he said.

You nodded slightly, and the boy stood up from the bed and complied with your request. He put on his shorts before climbing back into the bed with a smile, pulling you close to him again and you giggled.

“Tell me next time, I want you to feel safe with me” he whispered, looking into your eyes and you nodded.

"I just have to get used to it. It'll be better next time" you announced, and he smiled and placed a sweet kiss on your lips.

After that you went to sleep, Gavi fell asleep before you and you could finally feel at peace.

And like you said, the next time was better. You started to be more open to the new situation, and Pablo started to pay more attention to you, especially taking care of your comfort. The awkwardness was forgotten, it was just you and him in your bubble where you found complete understanding.

if you like this, please like, reblog or comment🫶🏻

i am SICK of my user but idk if i shoudk change it bcc im lowkey a hypocrite bc i silently judge people w users like mine but in english

i am screaming crying throwing up to the point words can’t describe my emotions in english bro. oh dios mío, esto me ha hecho querer sollozar porque necesito un hombre así, en realidad has elevado mis estándare 🤯 i’ve never seen a fic this good im flabbergasted you’ve made my day.

joao fic with he stays sober at a forge in italian club in milan, so reader can get drunk and he’s trying to take her home because she can’t walk straight but he’s struggling because he knows no italian at all (i also know your italian so thought this would be a good idea)😛

Milano & L'amore - João Felix

joao felix x fem!reader

sy: milan comes with its fun, but also its less appealing moments. tonight’s an example.

a/n: although i hate the abbreviation of the ‘mafia’ and even mentioning it i couldn’t think of anything else as a placeholder so💔 plus this is not proofread idk im tired so sozsoz for any mistakes ..

warnings: portuguese and italian and the use of alcohol

the bartender slides you another shot of tequila across the marble countertop, and you catch it surprisingly easy.

the club is a kaleidoscope of green and pink, the flashing lights sending you into a drunken void.

“another one?” your boyfriend, joão, comes up from behind. his aftershave is overwhelmingly strong, which makes you even more nauseous.

“yes, another one,” you mock, taking a swig.

the liquid burns down your throat, the addictive wave of alcohol scorching into your head. your slumped over the bar, barely sitting upright and the stool is nothing but a flimsy cushion underneath you.

“y/n, i think you’ve had enough for tonight,” joão tries to snatch the drink, but you slide it away.

“i decide when i have enough,” you counter, almost falling backwards but joão’s swift enough to catch you on time.

“really?” he scoffs. “your gonna play this game with me? you know this isn’t healthy.”

with a second gulp of your drink, you slam the glass down onto the table to look up at your sober boyfriend who looks merely amused.

“your always acting like this,” you lazily mumble. “always lecturing me at… parties.”

you mimic him whilst swaying your hands in the air. “no y/n you can’t drink this, don’t do that. come over here, don’t go there.”

joão looks at you with an jovial expression—in the way your still able to form a sentence despite the amount of churning alcohol pitting in your stomach.

“now,” you fist the glass up to his face. “stop being so boring and have some!”

his grin falters, now unimpressed. “i’ll pass.”

“we’re in milan joão!” you lazily squeak, pulling him down by his half unbuttoned shirt, faces now inches apart. “you need to have some fun.”

he pinches his nose. “yeah and you need gum.”

your smile is carefree, joyful. you sling your arms around the nape of his neck, littering sloppy kisses over his tanned skin.

“awh aren’t you the sweetest?” you mistake his comment for a compliment. “i’m so lucky to have you bebê waby.”

joão purses his lips, rolling up his sleeves. “c’mon, enough. we’re going home right now.”

as he tries to lift you up, you vividly protest.

“ey antonio,” you call to the bartender, using the first name that comes to mind. “don’t make him take me away! we’re friends, right?”

the bartender solely spares you a glance, continuing to pour drinks like he’s heard this exact situation play out a hundred times before.

before you can resist further, you’re suddenly lifted off the ground, swung over joão’s shoulder like a misbehaving child.

“joão! put me down this instant, traidor,” you yell, kicking your legs.

joão, clearly, has more strength than you will ever possess, when he doesn’t even phase at the wriggling your doing to try and escape.

“joão! estou faland—serious,” you babble. “this.. não é justo.”

any words that spring to mind, you voice, even if it was a mix of both english and portuguese. you still somewhat have a smidge of conscious left, and you use it to snatch a fresh glass of vodka from a passing waiters tray.

joão catches on, glancing up at you. “y/n, where did you get that from—no!”

your mid-sip, when he forcefully slides it from your grasp and tosses it into a nearby waste bin.

“what’s wine ever done to you?” you slur, poking him in the chest as he finally sets you back down outside the club.

“for starters, that wasn’t wine,” he corrects. “and second of all, it stole my girlfriend from me.”

your eyes widen dramatically. “you have a… girlfriend? oh, so when did you meet her, huh?” you gasp. “you’re using me.”

joão runs a hand down his face. “no, amor, i don’t have another girlfriend.”

there was in fact, no other girl, but obviously you had way too many to drink than he anticipated.

“hmm,” you squint at him like you’re trying to read his mind.

visibly stressed, he runs his fingers through his hair as he pulls out his phone for a taxi. whereas, your too busy playing with the buttons on his shirt to notice.

“joão,” you spout, reaching up to squish his face between your hands. “you’re so… handsome.”

he sighs deeply, gently prying your hands off. “obrigado, amor. now let me find us a taxi, okay?”

but before he can even look up from his phone, you gasp dramatically. “wait. wait. where’s my bag?”

joão’s heart nearly stops. “what?”

you twirl around in circles, patting your sides. “i had a bag. where’s my bag? joão, my bag—”

“anjo, hey look at me,” he says, firmly locking your shoulders down. “you didn’t bring a bag.”

“oh.” you pause. “are you sure?”

“yes, i’m sure,” he groans, raking a hand down his face, almost on the brink of having heart palpitation. “we have more important things to worry about. like getting you home.”

as if the universe is mocking him, not a single car is in sight. the street is presumably quiet, as it is almost 3am and most people are already inside the club or stumbling off in different directions.

the portuguese looks around desperately, until spotting a driver leaning against the streetlamp.

“come on,” he tugs on your hand. “let’s see if he’s free.”

but you, in your drunken wisdom, come to a halt and dig your heels into the ground. “wait.”

joão groans. again. “wait for what y/n?”

you nervously grab onto his wrist with your spare hand, and whisper (noisily). “what if he’s part of the mafia?”

he stares at you, blinking so fast that he hopes you’d snap back into reality. the mafia?

your confident in your conspiracy, staring back with all of the faint seriousness you had left. not that you had much tonight, though.

“y/n,” he erupts flatly. “he’s a taxi driver.”

you hiss. “that’s what they want you to think.”

joão closes his eyes for a long moment, breathing in so deeply like he’s summoning for any patience that god can offer him. then, his nostrils flare determinedly, and without another word, he drags you along.

the driver looks up as you approach “sì?”

“uh.. possiamo eh,” he gestures vaguely. “possiamo.. prendere un taxi?” (can.. we get a taxi?)

“dove vuoi andare?” the driver now turns to face you fully. (where do you want to go?)

joão blanks. well shit. did he really expect a local in milan to be fluent in english? luckily, he briefly understood what he’d said but knowing how to form a response was a new challenge.

“uh.. to our hotel?”

“quale hotel?” the driver gives him a pointed look. (which hotel?)

joão’s mouth opens and closes. of course he knows the name of the hotel. but right now? right now, when you were clinging to his arm and sputtering some nonsense about ‘dangerous italian gangsters’(?). his brain was fried.

for you, this is nothing short of in awe. “awh baby you sound so smart right now.”

“y/n, please.” he feigns.

the driver sighs, patience thinning. “l'indirizzo?”(the address?)

he quickly fumbles for his phone, trying to pull up the hotels location. his hands are full because of your constant swaying against him, always looking to grab his attention.

“joãoo,” you pout, pressing your cheek against his chest. “why is your heartbeat so fast? is it normally this fast?”

“um, no,” he presses his lips into a thin line, still struggling to get the location. you continue to ramble about something else, but ignores you.

after a painful few seconds, he finally grabs the address, showing it to the driver.

the man squints at the screen, then exhales heavily, like he’s deeply regretting taking this job tonight. but he nods. “va bene. venite.” (okay. come)

you snort. “look at you, my multilingual king.”

he helps you into the backseat, making sure you don’t hit your head in the process, before sliding in next to you.

when the engine starts, your head hits his shoulder, he cuddles you closer, his arm around your waist like a crafted seatbelt.

after a few beats of silence, you grumble. “you still love me after all this right?”

joão ushers a breathy laugh, resting his chin atop your head. “more than anything mi vida.”

🔖🏷️: @n0vazsq @hearzdiarx @paucubarsisimp @diarieeeelils @joaosnovia @httpsdana @universefcb

❦ - the alchemy

summary:: jamal wins bundesliga with his girl by his side.

warnings:: none!

writers note:: expect this series to be done today!! bc these are concerningly easy to write esp when you have the idea clear in your mind! i was gonna make it that he won ucl as per @hearts4musiala request but i’m a culer so that doesn’t work w me.. 😔.

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

The stadium was alive with chaos, golden confetti falling like a storm, the roar of fans echoing through the Allianz Arena. Jamal Musiala stood in the middle of it all, his hands clutching the Bundesliga trophy, the weight of it almost surreal. This moment had been everything he’d worked for, dreamed of, but somehow it felt even better because you were here.

You watched him from the sidelines, beaming, your chest swelling with pride. He’d worked so hard for this. You’d seen every late night, every self-doubt he barely let himself voice, and every time he pushed himself beyond what you thought was possible. Now, as he stood at the center of glory, you could see it in his eyes, the quiet disbelief, the golden glow of triumph.

He found you instantly in the crowd. His eyes softened in the way they always did when he looked at you, like you were the only thing grounding him in the chaos. Without thinking, you pushed through the barriers, weaving past teammates and staff who barely noticed your presence in the delirium of celebration.

When you reached him, Jamal didn’t say a word. He pulled you in, one hand still clutching the trophy while the other found your waist, holding you tightly against him. His forehead fell to yours, and for a moment, it was just the two of you, the noise of the world fading into the background.

‘You did it,’ you whispered, your voice catching.

‘We did it,’ he murmured back, his voice low and soft.

You shook your head, tears threatening to spill. ‘This was all you.’

He laughed under his breath, pressing a kiss to your temple. ‘Couldn’t have done it without you.’

You knew he meant it. The nights he’d called you after a bad game, the moments he felt the weight of the world on his shoulders; you’d been there. But this wasn’t about you. It was about him, about the magic he created every time he stepped onto the pitch.

‘Proud of you, Jam,’ you said, your voice barely audible over the noise.

His smile grew, but there was something else in his eyes, something tender and unspoken. ‘Feels like alchemy, doesn’t it?’ he said.

You blinked at him, confused.

‘All the doubt, the pain; turning it into this,’ he explained, lifting the trophy slightly. ‘It’s like gold. It’s like… us.’

Your chest ached at the way he said it. At how easily he compared this golden moment to the love you’d built together.

You kissed him then, soft and fleeting, the kind of kiss that didn’t need words. The world cheered around you, but Jamal only kissed you back, as if this was the real win of the night.

And maybe it was.

All I Want - (João Felix) Sweetmas

Warnings- FLUFF, Christmas love, puppy lovers only

“João! Wake up!” You yelled, jumping up and down on yours and your boyfriend’s shared bed. “Huh? Wha-“ Before he could finish his sentence, you kissed him. “Morning, baby. It’s Christmas.” He smiled and nodded “I have something for you… I think you’ll like.” Your smile widens to a grin, jumping off of the bed, “Lead the way!” He chuckled and got out of bed, throwing a shirt on and fixing his hair. “Let’s go.” He grabbed your hand, leading you through the silent house into the living room. “See that box?” There was a big box with a big, red bow. “Yeah?” He smiled and nudged you towards the tree, “Open it.” You giggled and walked over to the tree, looking back at João before crouching down and slowly unwrapping the bow around the box. You slowly lifted the lid, revealing a golden, small figure. It jumped out of the box, that’s when you realized- “IT’S A PUPPY!” He laughed and nodded, smiling so bright and sitting on the couch. “João! You got me a puppy?!” You exclaimed, petting the puppy on your lap. “A golden retriever.” He said, sitting on the floor next to you, “You like it?” You nodded in response, kissing his cheek. “Your too sweet.” He chuckled and brushed some hair out of your face, “Only for you, amore.” He sighed, placing a kiss on your forehead. “I love you.” You said, holding his face. “I love you too. You make Christmas so much more better.” And that was THE best Christmas that you two ever had. You, João, and your new baby.

❦ - valentines surprise.

summary:: being gavis girlfriend always comes with surprises, but it’s different this time because it’s his first valentines with you.

warnings:: uhm none!

writers note:: i’m so sorry this came the next day but i’ve lowkey been busy asf yesterday and i also had to write part 3 of the fic! anyways uhm that’s all i have to say

tags:: @barcapix @n0vazsq @httpsdana @paucubarsisimp

valentine’s day wasn’t something gavi thought too much about. sure, his teammates joked about their plans, the romantic dinners, the extravagant gifts, but for him, it was just another day, until this year.

this year was different. this year, he had you.

you weren’t flashy about valentine’s day either, which made planning a surprise for you even harder. he knew you’d insist that you didn’t need anything, that just spending time together was enough. but gavi wanted to do something special, just this once.

so here he was, pacing back and forth in his apartment, double checking everything. the candles were lit, casting a warm glow over the room. the dinner, well, it was mostly takeout from your favorite place, but he’d set the table himself. and on the couch sat the small, neatly wrapped box that had him more nervous than any game he’d ever played.

the sound of your key in the lock made his heart race.

‘gavi?’ your voice was soft, questioning.

‘in here,’ he called out, trying to sound casual.

when you stepped inside, your eyes immediately took in the scene, the dim lighting, the food on the table, the nervous way gavi rubbed the back of his neck. a slow smile spread across your lips.

‘you did all this?’

‘yeah,’ he admitted, watching your reaction carefully. ‘i just… i know you said you didn’t need anything, but i wanted to. you know, for you.’

your heart melted at his sincerity. stepping closer, you wrapped your arms around him, feeling the tension leave his body as he hugged you back.

‘i love it,’ you whispered against his chest.

dinner passed with laughter and easy conversation, the comfort of each other’s company better than any five star restaurant. afterward, gavi hesitated for a moment before handing you the small box.

‘open it,’ he urged.

inside was a simple gold bracelet, delicate yet strong, just like the way he saw you.

‘gavi,’ you breathed, running your fingers over the smooth surface. ‘it’s beautiful.’

‘there’s something on the inside,’ he said, suddenly shy.

turning it over, you read the small engraving: ‘siempre contigo’ always with you.

tears pricked at your eyes, and when you looked up, gavi was already searching your face for a reaction. you didn’t say anything, you just kissed him, soft and slow, pouring every unspoken word into it.

when you finally pulled away, he grinned. ‘so… does that mean you like it?’

you laughed, wiping at your eyes. ‘i love it. i love you.’

and as he pulled you into his arms again, gavi decided that maybe valentine’s day wasn’t so bad after all.

OKAY SO LIKE HEAR ME OUT yk how joao went to a grand prix once? (idek if thats true i js saw a pic of him with hugo on what i think is the spa track) anyway for this req we'll pretend that's true

so ferrari invites him to his garage (bc we're both tifosi ykyk) anyway and he's like curious and stuff about the car and kind of gets close to it to inspect and stuff

and then reader (who is a ferrari engineer) is like watching him from afar and basically in love (idk bro)

so then hes like looking around to see if someone is there he can ask and he sees reader and he js starts bombarding her with questions and she's answering all of them and yeah !!

idk what to do with the rest of the plot so i trust you to make it better than what my shitty ass mind can put into words <33

❦ - forza ferrari.

warnings:: i wrote this in between history and math revision

writers notes:: running out of things to say! typical me 🤍. anyway the body in the moodboard is tea 😮‍💨.

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

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the ferrari garage smells of oil, rubber, and the sharp scent of metal. it’s familiar to you, your second home, really. a place where everything moves in a rhythm, a choreography of machines, engineers, and the relentless hum of technology.

you’re focused on your task, checking over blueprints, ensuring everything’s in order for the next big race. the noise around you is a constant buzz, but it fades away as you work. that is, until you feel a shift in the air, a subtle disturbance, like the way the world changes when something important is about to happen.

you look up just in time to see joão walking into the garage.

it’s surreal, really. he’s here. in your world. the world of precision and speed.

you try not to stare, but your eyes follow him anyway. his presence is hard to ignore. you’ve seen him on the pitch countless times, but here, in this space, he’s a different kind of curious, a different kind of focused. he’s not playing football; he’s inspecting a car. and the way he steps around the ferrari SF90 with wide eyed interest makes your heart skip a beat.

he leans down, inspecting the tires, his fingers grazing the rubber as he mumbles to himself. he’s clearly fascinated, but there’s no one around to give him answers. and that’s when his eyes scan the room, searching for someone to help him out.

he sees you.

and just like that, it’s as if everything else disappears. his focus shifts from the car to you, a flicker of recognition crossing his face. for a second, you think he’s going to keep walking, but instead, he strides over to you with that easy confidence of his.

‘hey,’ he says, a warm smile spreading across his face. ‘can you explain this to me?’

you blink, a little caught off guard. you’ve never been that close to him before, not like this. but you swallow down the nervous flutter in your chest and nod, trying to focus on the task at hand.

‘sure,’ you say, clearing your throat. ‘what are you curious about?’

he gestures toward the car. ‘everything. how does it work? what makes it so fast? these tires, they look different from what i’ve seen before. are they special?’

you chuckle softly, glad for the distraction. it’s easy to talk about something you love, and despite your nerves, you find yourself answering his questions one after another. he listens intently, nodding and leaning closer as if he can’t get enough.

it’s almost adorable, how much he’s into this. how interested he is in something that’s not football, something that’s all yours. he’s not just asking questions for the sake of it; he’s genuinely intrigued, and it shows in the way his eyes light up with every answer you give him.

you talk about the aerodynamics, the engine power, the design, everything you’ve spent years learning. and with every word, joão leans in just a little closer, his gaze never leaving you.

you’re trying so hard not to blush under the weight of his attention. it’s a little too much, if you’re being honest. and then, when you explain the tire specs, he laughs, a low sound that makes your heart race.

‘you really know your stuff, huh?’ he says, his voice teasing but warm.

you smile, shrugging. ‘i guess so. it’s my job.’

he studies you for a moment, as if weighing something in his head. then, with a slight smirk, he leans even closer, his hand grazing the side of the car. ‘so… do you work on this exact car? or are you just the tire expert?’

his teasing tone makes you laugh, and you find yourself more relaxed than you thought you would be around him.

‘i’m involved in pretty much every aspect of the car,’ you say, trying to sound casual, but it’s hard when he’s this close, his breath warm against your skin.

his eyes flicker between your face and the car, and there’s something in the way he’s looking at you now, something a little different. it’s more than curiosity about the car,it’s genuinely enjoying your presence. and before you can think of anything else to say, he breaks the silence with that grin of his.

‘that’s incredible,’ he says, and this time, his smile is softer, more personal. ‘i never really thought about everything that goes into it. it’s more than just speed, huh?’

you nod, feeling that quiet connection spark between you both. ‘a lot more. it’s a lot of people working together, engineers, designers, mechanics, everyone.’

‘and you’re one of the people making it all happen,’ he says, his voice quieter now. almost like a secret between you.

you’re not sure why, but his words make your heart race. and it’s then you realise, he’s not just curious about the car. he’s genuinely interested in you, in your world.

‘yeah,’ you say softly, a smile tugging at your lips. ‘i guess so.’

there’s a brief silence, just the two of you standing there, the hum of the garage all around you. you can feel his gaze on you, the way he’s looking at you now. it’s not just admiration for the work you do, it’s something more. and before you can think of anything else to say, he breaks the silence with that grin of his.

‘well, in that case, i guess i’ll have to keep asking you questions then,’ he says, his voice light, but there’s something else behind it, something that has your chest tightening in anticipation.

you’re not sure what to say, but you can’t stop smiling. ‘you’re welcome to.’

and as you stand there, caught in his gaze, surrounded by the roar of engines and the soft hum of ferrari’s world, you realise, maybe, just maybe, this curiosity between you and joão? it’s just the beginning.