make more Gavi dad plsss🙏🙏🙏
✮ Fútbol Play - Pablo Gavi
pablo gavi x fem!reader
sy: your husband and daughter play football together, but he wont let her win.
a/n: who else is in love with dad gavi 🙋♀️
warnings: 0
“mamá,” julia whined softly, clutching onto your hand. “papá is being mean again.”
you chuckled knowing what pablo was like. “what’s he doing amoricto?” you said, crouching down and tucking her brown curls behind her ear.
“he’s not letting me win!” she pouted, “he says i’m too bad at football…”
just as though he heard you both, gavi waltzed in with the ball loosely in his arms, grinning widely and dragging his muddy trainers onto the lament.
“hey niña, why did you run off? i thought we were playing.” pablo questions gently to the little girl hiding behind your shoulder.
“no! only you were playing,” she said in defense. “you don’t even let me touch the ball!”
you stifled a laugh at your daughter bickering with your husband for his agressive remarks. even for his child he didn’t change.
“pablo maybe you should just let her win some,” you suggested with a grin, whilst shooting him a knowing look.
“yeah! you should!” julia squeaked back at him.
“what? and lose my winning streak?” he scoffed playfully, letting the ball fall from his hands to cross them over his chest.
julia only frowned at your husband, muttering silly words like matón and malo quietly to herself.
“let her win,” you mouthed over to him. “don’t be so mean.”
gavi teasingly rolled his eyes, then began padding closer to the two of you on the floor.
“jules?”
“mmpf!” she grunted back at him, turning away to face the bottom of the counters.
“i’m sorry hermosa.”
julia stayed firm. she didn’t wince, didn’t move.
he then grabbed your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze and pulling you in for a light kiss. “i’ll take mamá out to play with me if you don’t.”
the sly side-eye she gave him made you grin, still facing him with her back. “no.. you won’t.”
a carbon copy of her dad.
stubborn.
“oh yeah?” pablo challenged, heaving you up from the ground and into his breadth arms. “c’mon bebè—”
“nooo!” she suddenly yelled, running to hit him on his knee and grasping onto your hand again.
“mamá is mine,” julia huffed, now wrapping her arms around your leg. “she’s not yours anymore.”
he tutted, repeatedly tapping his foot on the ground. “i mean, agree to disagree.” you could of punched him yourself as of now, cheeks flushed.
“it was a secret—she told me last night that she prefers me.” he teased, earning a scolding from you.
“really?” julia gasped, gleaming her beady hazel eyes up at you. just as you had predicted. pablo had already taught her how to use them against you.
i mean, fair play. you expected it to be later.
“no.. i’m both of yours, vale?”
“nuh-uh! he doesn’t deserve you mamà, he’s a meanie!” your daughter frowned, squinting her eyes at her father to appear mad.
“am not.”
“are too.”
he sighed. “bueno preciosa, we should play a game to see who loves mamá more, deal?”
“deal!” she quickly released her left arm from you and outstretched to her dad. “if i win, i love her more. you win and you love her more.”
OUTSIDE. “mamá, you watch sí?” she shouted to you from the other end of the garden. “si, si.”
you rested comfortably on the silk of grass, threading dandelion flowers through one another to create a chain. you might aswell get comfy, this was gonna be a long game.
the first 20 or so minutes, your husband was recklessly firing goals at your poor girl in goal; scoring 8 out of the 11 he shot.
although, she seemed quite composed and relaxed as the score was 8-7 to pablo. generally speaking, the score would have been 20-3 if you didn’t remind him to go easy on her.
it was julia’s turn for the next kick. pablo was stood defensively in goal, bouncing on his heels.
“watch this mom!” she tried to, subtly, half whisper across to you, a cheeky smile curving on her lips. she took a few steps back and swept strands of her hair away from her sticky face.
as jules went to kick the ball, she accidentally stepped forward before kicking it, sending it flying past gavi’s reach, in the bottom corner of the net.
“tramposa,” (cheater) he shouted, quickly swerving up from the grass; the muscles in his face contracting. “you’re cheating jules!”
“haha, daddy is a loserr!” she mocked, pointing and giggling at him. you couldn’t resist to laugh too. the grown nature of a man, 20 years old, getting angry at losing to a 4year old girl.
mocking him when he loses..
she learnt from the best.
pablo snorted, now chasing her with open arms. “c’mere you!”
she continued to scream; tried to outrun her father, hoping to reach you in time. “mamaaà,” she wailed, the panic in her eyes laughable.
“quick! quick jules!” you urged, subtly shuffling closer to her without having pablo kick up a fuss.
she swiftly jumped into your arms, tightly fisting your shirt and snuggling her head into your stomach, quirking her brows up at him.
you chuckled again at how she surprisingly outran gavi, something that you would definitely—now—wind him up about. “she’s already faster than you. that didn’t take long.”
“okay, that’s it,” he warned, before pushing you mellowly down on the grass, tickling both you of you until all you were spouting were pleads.
“papá stooopp!” she giggled, trying to smack away his hand.
you laugh with her, even by looking at the utter frown on his face. “you should get used to this angel, he does this when he doesn’t win.”
“ey!”
pablo crushed ontop of you both until julia wriggled out from under his weight and nestled on the left side of your chest, with gavi on your right.
he enveloped one arm around you, his other around his daughter and held you both close to him.
“las amo a las dos chicas,” (i love you both my girls) pablo said mid-laugh, placing a wet kiss on your cheek, and unstyling julia’s hair.
all three of you lay on the grass of your garden, keeping eachother near and warm, enjoying the wave of silence before they begin chasing each other round again and screaming like monsters.
moments like this you cherished. the two people you loved most in the world right next to you. it’s an honest thing to say you’d be lost without them.
pablo cleared his throat, shuffling his head closer along your shoulder. “so..”
“rematch?”
