#pedri fic

[taasgirl]

physical

summary: as barcelona's newest physio, y/n's job becomes increasingly difficult through language barriers and awkward encounters; until the guide of a few players assist her in navigating Spanish life.

author's note: i am not a spainish speaker so please don't attack me because this is all translated.

NOT PROOF READ. Sorry if there are any mistakes lol

Why did I ever move here? Although Spain is gorgeous, I miss Sydney far too much. And to even consider applying for a job as physio for Barcelona, delusional. But here I am.

Notes in hand, I make my way through the main building, approaching a desk occupied by two women.

"Hola, en qué puedo ayudarte?" The blonde one says, skimming my casual attire. "Hola, hablo no espanol." The woman straightens her posture and repeats her question, but this time in English. "Hello ma'am, what can I help you with?"

A deep breath, and I begin speaking, "Hi, I'm here for the role as general physio - I'm Y/N L/N." Quickly, the woman begins typing into her computer, skimming blurbs of information until she finds what she needs. "Welcome to the club Y/N, please take a seat while I contact the head physio." I nod in response and take a seat facing towards the television.

After around five minutes, a man appears from the corridor. "Y/N, Que tal! Please follow me." I leave my seat and follow my new coworker, Beau Martine. "How are you finding Spain?" I pick up on a French accent, pleased to not be the only non-Spanish person. "Ah. it's definitely an adjustment for me." I pause before continuing. "I thought I'd pick up on the language a little easier but I guess that's something that'll improve while I'm here." Beau opens a door, allowing me in first.

"Take it from me, it does get easier." A smile quirked the man's face, instantly calming some of my worries.

We're in a small, but manageable room. "This is your office Y/N." I take a look around, it's nothing flashy, simply a desk with two chairs and a cabinet. "It definitely needs some decorating, but here you will be completing paperwork and doing general admin." He continues "Your programmes and duties will not be run in here, but further down the hall in the recovery room." Beau points to the door, signalling a further examination of the building.

Walking a few meters, we enter a large room. Already, there are two physios, a man and woman, massaging and rehabbing players. I smile at them before Beau introduces me. "Saludos, this is Y/N, our new physio." Before the two could introduce themselves, Beau speaks, "Maylin and Christos are our recovery coaches, both specialising in post surgery recovery." They smile at me, while still attentively helping their patients.

"Training begins soon, so we'll head out to the fields to supervise the boys."

Once we arrived at the ground, I could feel the eyes of a few players, obviously aware of my lack of Barcelona gear, confused by my presence. Now, more than anything, I am grateful that I don't need an introduction. I am so totally okay with just standing and observing.

While another coach directs the warm up, I evaluate the players, concluding how absolutely beautiful some of them are.

I would be lying if I said that I hadn't watched edits of the players before-hand. But to me, that was simply all research. Throughout the session, my gaze found it's way back to a certain player. A certain player whose aura mesmerised me. Pedri.

Sharp but smart moves were a constant by him, and I was in awe by his calmness on and off the ball.

With about twenty minutes left, a player fell to the ground with a high pitched yelp. Immediately engaging Beau and myself to his aide. Looking down, it was Ferran Torres. He clutched his knee in agony.

I put my hand on his knee, evaluating any type of inflammation. "Vamos Ferran, vamos a llevarte adentro" (Come on Ferran, let's bring you inside). Beau and I helped him up, ensuring no pressure was put onto his affected leg.

Making our way into the recovery room Beau says to me "He's all yours, work your magic Y/N." I smile appreciatively at him while we lay Ferran down. Soon enough it's just Ferran and I, and I can feel my heart beating erratically.

I've never been this nervous to evaluate an injury before, so why do I feel as if I'm about to vomit everywhere?

Ferran, now completely quiet looks up at me. "You new here?" I nod in response, praying that he won't speak to me in Spanish. "I'm Ferran." He holds his hand out for me to shake. "I'm Y/N." His smile fades when he remembers his pain.

While I assess his knee, he continues with conversation. "Are you American?" I look at him, slightly unamused. "Not at all. Australian born and raised." I touch his knee causing a groan. "I know this hurts, but you've hyper-extended your knee."

"Joder." His only response. As I search for ice, he breaks the silence again. "You know, a few of the guys out there were calling you pretty." I look at him, slightly blushing. "I think it was Balde who said he'd get injured just so he could talk to you." My eyebrows raise. For such serious athletes, they sure do have interesting perspectives.

"Well I guess I should be lucky to be in here with someone who is actually injured." Ferran looks towards me. "So if you're a graduate physio, how old are you?" Almost instinctively I reply, "Twenty. I did accreditations for university while I was still in high school, so I was able to graduate before my peers." Impressed, Ferran tilts his head. "Hm, you're similar to Pepi's age." The next sentenced he mumbled, although I could perfectly understand what he said. "Probably his type too." I look up, pretending not to hear his additional comment.

"Who's Pepi?" At that exact moment, two players had walked into the room. "Joder Ferran, what happened?" Alejandro had walked over to his friend and immediately diverted his walk when he saw me.

"Ella es igual de hermosa de cerca." (She's just as beautiful up close.) I smiled nervously, not understanding a single word. Ferran responded, making Pedri blush "Es el tipo de Pepi." (She's Pepi's type.)

I've never once envied people for speaking Spanish, more than I feel right now.

"Sorry for their interruption, they're just a little curious." Ferran had said, playfully pushing Pedri. "Ale, Pepi, this is Y/N she's the new physio." Suddenly Alejandro gripped his hammy.

"Fuck I think I tore it." Instinctively I rushed to him. I went to feel his leg before he and the rest of the boys began laughing. "Just kidding querida." I awkwardly laughed before placing ice on Ferran's leg.

Ferran, Pedri, and Alejandro continued to talked while I scribbled an outline of Ferran's recovery. It would involve consultation regularly, with physical therapy to assist his knee. Luckily he wouldn't need surgery, which meant he was my patient for the next few weeks.

Walking to Ferran, I explained his recovery process. He would be out for a few weeks and wouldn't be kicking a ball for at least another two. He attentively listened, and by the time I had outlined what we would do in our meetings, Pedri and Alejandro were lifting him up. I helped the boys out, while making my way to my office to write an article of review.

After writing a page or so, a loud knock came to my door. "Come in."

In walked the head coach, Xavi. "Please, have a seat." I signalled to the seat opposing my desk, allowing him to sit down.

"Lovely to meet you Y/N." He smiled at me. "I know this is your first day, but here we follow tight procedures in terms of injury reduction and recovery." I nodded, allowing him to continue. "To my understanding, Ferran has hyper-extended his knee. And according to him, you've already began a recovery plan." Wait, was I not meant to do that? Fuck I should've talked to Beau first.

"If you have a plan, I'd like to see it." I turned my computer to face him. He skimmed what I had written. "This is great. You should be proud." Unknown to him, I had written plenty of recovery plans for hyper-extended knees. This was second nature to me. "Do you mind forwarding it to me? Here I'll write my Email and number down so you can contact me."

Camp Nou. It was stunning. The crowd, the lights, the atmosphere. All of it. I sat on the bench, next to Beau and Maylin, watching the game closely, ready for any disturbances in play.

Ferran, still sidelined smiled at me occasionally, it was good to know that I had a friend. His recovery had been going well, however I hadn't allowed him to begin running yet, it would put too much of a strain on his body.

It was an incredible game, close between the two teams, however, Barca was victorious after the ninetieth minute. Xavi huddled staff and players into a circle, giving a quick talk before the players went to the showers.

"¡Qué juego! Jugaste de manera excepcional, estoy orgulloso de este equipo." (What a game, you played exceptionally, I'm proud of this team!) God I needed to brush up on my Spanish if I had any hopes of understanding anything here. I looked forward, locking eyes with Pedri.

His hair was wet with sweat, his cheeks an adorable shade of pink. We held eye contact through Xavi's short speech, and I couldn't help but blush at the attention. He was just so gorgeous. By the time Xavi had finished his speech everyone dispersed. Walking away, I felt a tap on my shoulder. Turning around, I realised it was Pedri.

"Hi." I shyly said. He smiled. God that smile was infectious. "Hey." We stood there for a few seconds until he began speaking. "A few of us are going out tonight to celebrate the win. I was wondering if you'd like to join us."

"Oh." I replied "I'm sorry but I'm going out tonight." It was true. I had agreed to go out for drinks with my barista. To me it was less of a date, and more of an attempt to make friends. "No problem. I'll see you around." He awkwardly walked away. I definitely just fucked up.

Once I had gotten home, I began getting ready for tonight. The barista, Elijah, was a fellow Australian, although he had been living in Spain for the past few years. I'd been going to the same cafe every morning since I landed in Barcelona, and once Elijah had picked up on my accent it was nothing but polite and short conversation about our hometowns.

Arriving at the bar, I found a seat right by the bartender. Now, I don't normally drink but today I wanted to let loose, I wanted to celebrate the success of my new job.

"I'll grab an old fashioned." The bartender nodded and began pouring my drink. Soon twenty minutes had passed and there had been no sign of Elijah. I pulled out my phone and began texting him, to no surprise there was no response.

As time passed, it became increasingly obvious that I had been stood up. After calling Elijah to no avail, I left the bar.

How shitty was that? To not even text and say that he couldn't make it... And especially considering that I am in a foreign country late at night. Classy.

Making my way through town, I noticed the flashing lights of a near by club. Similar to alcohol, I don't usually go clubbing, but with the amount that I've drunken tonight already, I deserve to at least check it out.

I get in easily and scope the crowd out. Lucky for me it's people mostly my age.

Walking up to the bar, I order a Margarita, swig the glass and walk onto the floor. The music was blasting a mix of Latin Pop and Old School Classics. Firstly my hips swayed, then my entire body. Soon enough I was dancing amongst plenty of people. All of which good looking.

After a solid ten minutes, I make my way out and successfully find an empty seat to relax for a few minutes. Fuck Elijah, this is already fifty times better then having a sophisticated chat over wine.

When I got back onto the floor, my shoulder was lightly tapped. I spun around. "Having fun?" My eyes focused on the figure in front of me. Then I realised who it was. Pedri.

Already tipsy, a shot of confidence sparked through me. "Oh my God! Pedri!" I hung my arms around his neck. "I'd much prefer to be out with you tonight." He looked down at me confused.

I began dancing while he stood their in shock "You're lucky you're a footballer because oh my you're a terrible dancer." I earned a chuckle as he placed his hands on my hips and began dancing with me.

"For a girl whose generally shy, I can't say that I'm surprised that alcohol loosens you up." I smack his shoulder. "Be polite! I'm pretty much your boss." He raised his eyebrows laughing to himself. "I don't think that's how it works Carino."

We continued to dance until we were interrupted by a loud voice and quickly removed our hands from each other's bodies.

"Y/N! My saviour!" For a split moment I sobered up and scolded Ferran. "You shouldn't be partying and dancing! You need to rest your knee otherwise you could end up more hurt."

"You crack me up, come on let's take a seat." I followed Ferran while Pedri followed me to the bar. We sat together, me between the two boys, and ordered our drinks.

"So, how was your little date tonight?" He nudged me. God I had forgotten that I told him about Eli.

"Uhh." I fiddled with my straw. "He was kinda a no show." Shocked, Ferran placed a sympathetic hand on my arm. "Trust me, baristas will never be someone's soulmate."

"Speaking from experience Fer?" Pedri chirped up. "Hmm something like that." Ferran responded.

"Hey Y/N, I want you to meet my girlfriend Sira, I think you two would make great friends." Ferran stood up to find his girlfriend, leaving Pedri and I alone.

Pedri looked at me and spoke. "Eres tan hermosa." I responded, rather annoyed with his choice to speak his native tongue. "Enough with everyone speaking Spanish here! Like okay I get it, you all have sexy accents and think it's romantic to converse with me in a language I don't understand. I'm getting lessons okay! It's just so hard to be here by myself." Soon enough tears began to stream down my face. I need to remember to stop drinking after my second glass.

Naturally, Pedri pulled me into a hug, allowing me to let all my frustrations out.

I didn't realise how upset I had become about my time here in Spain. Through the facade of cheap eats and my dream job, I forgot who I really was.

"I'm sorry for annoying you Carino. All I said was that you looked beautiful." I blushed, still not looking at him. "You see, I get nervous around pretty girls, and you happen to be the prettiest that I have ever seen." He knew exactly what to say to get my heart racing.

"I miss my home too. Especially my mother." At this I look up at him. He wipes the tears off my face with his thumb. "But I understand. You've come here all by yourself to work a new job without anyone supporting you. You're so strong." He smiled at me.

"I think we need to bring you home, I don't want you be late to work tomorrow." I sighed as he helped me out of my seat.

"Do you live nearby? I'm happy to walk you home." I accepted his offer.

Walking through the streets of Barcelona, Pedri made sure to explain his teammates and their personalities.

"Ale might just be the biggest flirt so don't mind him."

"Oh trust me, I can tell." I replied, still wandering through quiet lanes.

"And your best friend Ferran, he's a nutjob but such a good kid."

"Isn't he older than you?"

"Eh, to me he's a brother."

We began to approach my apartment. "This'll be me." I indicated towards the building. "Would you like me to walk you in?" I shook my head, not wanting to keep him out here any longer.

He grabbed my hand as we held eye contact. "Maybe we could do this again. I really enjoyed hanging out with you tonight. Even if it was a short amount of time." I smiled agreeingly.

Then it got quiet, we were both obvious to what should happen, so I leaned in. Immediately he took a step back.

Holy fuck he had just rejected me? Sweet talk all night and now he wouldn't even kiss me??

He looked down at me. "I'll see you tomorrow." I smiled awkwardly and took a step back.

God Spanish men weren't for the fainthearted.

"Are you okay Y/N." Looking up from my clipboard, Ferran was in my eyesight. "Yup, just slightly hungover."

"I heard a certain someone followed you home." He smirked while lying down on my physio bed. "Ha ha very funny." I sarcastically responded.

I began to unwrap the tape on his knee, making sure to not pull too aggressively. "I never got to introduce you to my girlfriend. Here let me find a photo to show you."

"Not now Ferran. Just let me do this." I snapped at him.

It had been two and a bit weeks since he originally injured his knee, and in my eyes, he was ready to begin training with the squad again, however with restrictions to ensure his safety.

"What's wrong doc?" He asked me, genuinely concerned.

"I'm just a little on edge." Continuing, "I don't know, I think I pissed Pedri off." Ferran laughed. "Yeah trust me you didn't." Sighing, I began to feel around Fer's knee. "You're all good to train." His face lit up. "Seriously!?" He was ecstatic. "You'll be doing a strict 15 minutes training to 5 minutes rest tempo. And no tackles yet. I'll talk to Xavi."

Ferran rose and gave me a huge kiss on my cheek. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I smiled at him, happy for him to be returning.

Once he left, I headed into my office, writing an integration plan for Ferran, to give to Xavi. My door was wide open, and in walked Gavi.

I hadn't really spoken to him much before so I was slightly confused as to why he was in my office. "Hey sorry to interrupt, but we're going out to the fields so..." I stood from my chair. "Right, yeah thank you."

As soon as I had gotten to the ground my eyes found Pedri, luckily, he hadn't noticed me yet.

"Hey Y/N, is Ferran ready yet?" Xavi approached me. I gave him the plan and explained to him what I explained to Ferran. Pleased, Xavi took my paper and walked back to his squad.

Throughout the session I made my way to players, taping a few shoulders and ankles, massaging a few calves. Watching Ferran get back on the grass was a happy moment. Although he'd only been out for a few weeks, his comeback proved my competence as a physio. people now trusted me.

I noticed Pedri limping after an awkward tackle with Raphina, however he insisted to his coach that he was fine to play on. I however, noticed that he was in discomfort so I watched his movement.

By the end of training, Pedri was visibly in pain. Truthfully, I didn't want to face him so I avoided him and Beau in an attempt to not be assigned to him. But Ferran had other plans.

"Yo, Y/N. Can you check Pepi's ankle?" Awesome. I made my way to the boys. Pedri leaned slightly on Ferran's frame. "Come on let's get you inside."

Pedri seemed okay to walk in with minimal assistance, and soon it was only him and I in the recovery room. "Take a seat I'll get you sorted." He sat up on the bed as I helped him remove his boots.

"Please don't let this be awkward." I looked up at him after his words. "Strictly professional." I felt his ankle and evaluated the bruising. "It's not good is it?" He asked looking at me defeated. "I'm not sure as of right now but I think I need to bring in the doctor."

"What do you think it is?" He asked my naively.

"I can't indicatively say but I think its a tendon tear." I could see him cringe at my answer. "But I haven't done any tests so I can't say for sure."

"I'm gonna go find the doctor." Suddenly he grabbed my wrist. "Wait, I need to speak to you." The emotion on his face indicating that he really needed me to stay with him. I didn't respond, instead sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"I wasn't lying when I said that I'd wanted to go out with you again." He looked at me sympathetically. "And I didn't kiss you not because I didn't want to. I wanted it to be at the right moment." I look around the room. The silence is killing me. "Now I know that I'll be injured for a little while but would you like to come around to my house tonight? There'll be a few of the guys over and I'm cooking." He smiled. That smile.

I couldn't say no to him but I wanted to keep him on his toes. "I'll let you know by the end of the day." Smiling cheekily he held onto my hands. "But first I do need to bring the doctor in, so hang tight."

By the time I had come back in, Ferran and Gavi were next to Pedri. Dr Nicholson evaluated Pedri's ankle as a torn ligament and sent him off for a few X-Rays. "Soooo anything happen?" Ferran asked me playfully. "No Ferran, now I need to get back to work and so do you. Get to the gym."

By the time I was packing up my files a shadow appeared in my doorframe. "Decided yet?" His smirk tugging at his lips, instantly causing me to do the same. "Good afternoon to you too." He walked forward to me, closing the door behind although not without some difficulties as a result of his crutches.

"You look pretty pathetic with those things. I don't know how you're going to be cooking." He took a seat in my spare chair as I continued filling. "Eh, I might get some help from one of my friends." God he was so flirty I genuinely couldn't keep up with this man.

"Now I would offer to pick you up, but unfortunately I'm in a bit of a predicament right now. Should I send someone to pick you up or would you like my address?" I could not stop smiling. "Send me someone."

I pulled out my phone. "What's your number? I'll send you my address." After we exchanged numbers Pedri stood by the door. "I'll see you later then Carino."

Okay so Pedri didn't exactly discuss with me what the dress code was. I knew that it would be his teammates and their girlfriends I seriously didn't know what to pick. Something casual? Something Classy? Barca merch??? I decided to play it safe and be comfortable.

I slipped on sweatpants and a white top and called it a day. Pedri had told me that I'd be getting picked up at 6:00 so I headed down to the street by outside my complex. I wasn't quite too sure on how the driver would know to collect me, but as soon as a reached for my phone a car pulled in front of me. I didn't recognise who it was, "Y/N?". I nodded and proceeded into the back of the car.

The drive was supposed to be thirty minutes, but a large pause of traffic delayed time. By the time I had gotten to his house it was 6:50. There were already three cars parked in the driveway and suddenly I felt an indescribable wave of nervousness.

So do I walk up to his door and knock on it? Or do I message him or do I try and get in. I stress too much.

Once at the door I knocked. It was loud enough to be heard from the story above, and soon enough the door was answered. An enthusiastic Ferran picked me off my feet, I made eye contact with Pedri.

"Sira ven rápido, ella está aquí!." (Sira come quick, she's here) While he ran to find Sira I met Pedri's gaze. "You look beautiful tonight, Carino." In an attempt to divert my blush, I focused on his ankle. "How are you holding up, does it feel okay?" Smiling, he replied, "You worry too much Y/N come in."

I walked into his home and oh my was it gorgeous. The ceilings were raised and huge windows adorned the frame. I can't believe he lives here.

"Everyone's just in the living room." As we walked in, I recognised Ferran, Gavi, Fermin, and the girl cuddled up with Ferran.

"Ayyyy she finally came!" Gavi said, raising his glass in the air. I took a seat on the couch facing the fireplace, and as soon as I had sat down, it felt as if I had found my place.

Pedri was in and out of the kitchen, cooking on an injured ankle while attempting to keep conversation. Bless his heart.

I had spoken to Sira a lot, and we had much in common. By 7:30 Pedri had called us to the dining room.

We sat down, a seat empty next to me (assuming it was Pedri's). He brought out the dishes and to say I was impressed was an understatement. Truthfully, I didn't recognise most of the dishes but by the looks of astonishment on Fermin and Gavi's face I knew it was impressive.

"Es una locura ver lo que te hace una chica bonita!" (It's crazy to see what a pretty girl does to you.) Gavi said aloud, cracking everyone up.

Pedri took his seat next to mine and whispered in my ear, "He said that beautiful girls make me do crazy things." My cheeks reddened, he remembered.

The meal was delicious, conversation was flowing effortlessly, you could tell that they all loved each other. Suddenly the chatter was drowned out as I felt Pedri's hand land on my thigh. I looked at him but he was still engaged in conversation with Ferran.

As we finished up, Pedri was banned from cleaning anything (specifically by me, doctors orders.) "Okay fine I'll take a seat, but I need the physio to check out my ankle so you're on your own guys." They all groaned in unison that I was allowed to rest.

He laid upright on the couch, signalling for me to place myself between his legs. Without a second thought, we were cuddling together, talking about our lives.

I found myself telling him about my home, and how much he'd enjoy it if he went.

He was playing with my hair and giving me scalp massages when someone walked in.

"Hey Pedri, we're gonna head home now. Would you like us to drop you off Y/N?" Ferran called out, the only one able to see what we were doing. Immediately I called out, "I'm all good, I'll grab a cab." Ferran smiled at us and the rest all called out their goodbyes.

"You're a great cook Pedro." His body jolted, shocked at what I had said. "I like how you say my name." He was so cheesy.

"Is that the only thing you like about me?" I reply in a sassy but playful tone. He knows that I'm trying to gage how much he likes me. "No, I also like how good you are at your job." I pretend to be mad, "Well with enough years of uni, anyone could be as good as I am." Standing up, I leaned slightly over his face.

"You're so beautiful that it hurts." Curious at what he said, I pry him for more. "I can't look at you, let alone in the eyes without my heart racing. You do something to me and can't tell what it is." He is going to be the death of men.

Before I had time to react, he kissed me, passionately. He held my chin in one hand, while both of mine reached for the spot behind his ear.

It was ecstatic, electric, nothing I had ever felt before. But then it ended.

"Wow." The only word that fell from his lips before we started laughing. By this point I was already on top of him, so I flattened myself on him as we held each other, shocked by our actions.

"I've been wanting to do that for a while." I say to him. He looked at me with a shy smile. "What do you man Carino?" Embarrassed, I told him about my 'research' that I had done prior to accepting the job at Barcelona.

He laughed at me but found it 'cute'.

After some conversation, I found myself getting sleepier. I could barely keep my eyes open. I rationalised with myself, just a quick power nap then I'll head home.

By the time I had woken up I was tucked under white linen, puzzled by where I was. Soon enough I realised what had happened. I searched for my phone to find it charging by my bedside. 7:42. Shit I was gonna be late.

I jumped out of bed and ran downstairs. I needed to get home. As I made my way down I found Pedri by the kitchen counter cooking up some eggs. "Morning Carino." He smiled sweetly at me.

"Can you call an Uber? I'm going to be late for work." Still smiling, he pointed towards the counter. "Sira brought over some clothes. I've also got a few Barca tracksuits if you wanted to wear that instead."

I looked at him puzzled, he still hadn't answered my question. "Gavi is gonna pick us up, I think he'll be here by 8 so you better start getting ready." Jokingly, I replied "You trust him to drive?" while picking up the clothes left by Sira and Pedri.

I was ready by 8, declining the eggs Pedri had cooked. I tried my best to look presentable with the minimal amount of beauty products left for me. I decided to wear the jumper from Pedri as it was an exact replica of my own one from the club, but opted for leggings that Sira had left for me.

By the time we had arrived to the training grounds it was 8:30. I was running late. Bursting in, I made my way to my office, writing up the plan I was supposed to make for Pedri.

It had been three months since Pedri had played minutes in La Liga. When Xavi waved for him to come on with twenty minutes left in the game, my stomach turned. I was so incredibly proud of him, but I was so fucking nervous. Since he was post-surgery he had no longer been my 'patient'. We rarely spent time together at work due to a clash of schedules, and barely went out. Only a few people knew of our situation and to not put either of our jobs in jeopardy we hadn't really defined our relationship, agreeing however, to be exclusive.

Although not officially dating, I knew how I felt about him.

Smiling back at me, Pedri changed from his warm-up gear into his match shirt, walking to Xavi who whispered instructions to him.

His entry to the field was applauded by a wave of celebration from the crowd. We were all so happy for him, although maybe not the away fans.

Tonight was decisive in the title race, Barca sat at 48 with Madrid on 50, a win would put Barcelona first. The game was tied 2-2, both goals from Lewa.

As we were approaching the final minutes of added time, Barca was building up from the back. Intelligent bounce passes gave them enough space to exploit, especially for Pedri. Frenkie raced down the flank of the field, cutting inside as he reached the box, carefully delivering a rolling ball. To Pedri.

The goal came so fast that everyone leapt out of their seats. We had got the points, and it was all thanks to Pedri. My Pedri.

Routine to his celebration, Pedri lifted his hands to make glasses, and while he ran back to the half for kick off, he blew me a kiss.

Undoubtedly the squad currently on the bench and the coaches spun around to see who his actions were for - my blushing cheeks probably didn't help.

When the whistle blew to signal full time, we all ran onto the field in celebration. Although it was a team that we were predicted to defeat, the number of injuries and tightness of the game really pushed the boys.

Making my way to the ground I went to find anyone to hug, I truly didn't matter who it was. But then I was suddenly lifted from behind.

"Carino!" Knowing who it was, I felt much more comfortable. As he put me down, he immediately picked me back up, wrapping my legs around his waist.

He pulled me in for a kiss which was cheered by Ferran.

"Is it the right time to ask you to be my girlfriend?" I looked down at him and nodded. He again attacked my face with kisses, and when he finally put me down, Ferran, Gavi, Fermin, and Sira pulled us all in for a group hug.

I had found my family.

"So Pedri, firstly, congratulations on the return to football. It is understood that your process of recovery was tiring and long."

"Ah yes, although I am so grateful to have the club and my beautiful girlfriend supporting me through it all."

"Now, I know you may be focused on the goal and the win, but currently everyone is freaking out over your girlfriend."

He laughed, "Yes Y/N."

"The people want to know, how did you meet?"

"You all didn't see me blowing a kiss to the bench?" The journalist laughed. "Well it definitely wasn't to Gavi." Again causing a laugh.

"But in all seriousness Y/N is a physio here at Barca. She was the sole reason as to why I was able to perform today. Without her, I'd have no motivation, and would definitely not be ready to play a match."

"She has made my days so much better. Every session I spend in recovery and training with the team, is for her. I want to make her as proud as she makes me."

I think I'm starting to like Spain.

Thank you for reading!!! Please give me suggestions on any footballer and trope so feel free to request!!

#football #football fanfic #football imagine #pedri #pedri gonzalez #pedri fic #pedri fan fic #fc barcelona #ferran torres #pablo gavi #fermin lopez #pedri x reader #pedri imagine #pedri x y/n #pedri x you

[gadriezmannsgirl]

Hi beautiful, are you ok? You could write where Gavi or Pedri (your preference) has a "best friend" who is really in love with him and purposely creates a situation where he is confused who to believe, leaving the hurt reader not wanting to see him for a while. It can be a anguish with a happy ending, please :) thank you.

Part 2 (Angsty Version)

Part 2 (Happy Version)

Warnings: Pretty long, some swear words, burns with coffee, angst, kinda asshole! Pepi. Don't really know about that😭💀 no proofread💀 I need to get better on the publishing time😭💀

Believe What You Want -P.G8

Summary: He doesn't know who to believe and you just can't take it.

Pedri knew about your non-liking towards his best friend, Victoria and often both of you had some exchange of words for it. But it wasn't your fault.

You were always nice and open to meet your boyfriend's family and close friends. She, being one of them. Nervous as fuck but you were positive to like all people around him, since you planned to stay by his side for a very very long time, only to be met with a eye rolling and a push on the shoulder from her part.

Since that very first moment you knew that a friendship with her would never work. In fact, it would never happen. And that little thought was proven correct when a few hours later you were both alone as the guys went to buy some food, she went ahead and told you how you and Pedri were never going to work, how he was only using you like a little toy and soon will be left forgotten, etc...

However, once the guys returned back, Pedri could read that something had happened while they were gone, you were serious, you weren't smiling as big as you were before and remained quiet most of the evening

Not only did he noticed that but the guys also did.

"Are you okay?" Adrián, his cousin asked you, you lifted your head to look at him and nodded softly

"Just a bit tired and with a headache" You murmured as they nodded understanding, they left you be for the rest of the evening but Pedri did knew you well.

"What's wrong?" He asked as soon as you both got into his car

"¿Qué?" (What?)

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. Why would there be something wrong?"

"You're not tired and you don't have a headache either" He said as you sighed looking down at your lap, you could lie to everyone... To everyone but him. "Mírame, por favor, bonita" (Look at me, sweetheart, please) You didn't so he sighed and with his hand pulled your chin up to meet his eyes "What's wrong?"

You stayed quiet for a few seconds before you took a deep breath "Victoria... She- I'm pretty sure she doesn't like me" You tight-lipped smiled

"She's difficult at the beggining but once she gets confidence and spends more time with you, she changes" You shook your head

"I don't think so, Pedro..." You sighed "She said some things about our relationship" He furrowed his eyebrows

"Like?"

"Like... You were only playing with me like a little girl with a doll and that once you get tired of me you'll throw me away, that things between us will not last... You want me to keep going?" Pedri stood still for a few seconds before laughing softly and shaking his head

"She probably was testing you. She also adores making jokes"

"That seemed pretty real to me, Pedro"

"She was just joking. She often does that when one of us brings a girl around, to see if she's good or worth... If you didn't screamed back at her then you passed her test"

"Yes but she wasn't joking"

"Relax, bonita. You'll soon see she opens up to you"

You pushed his hand out of your chin and rested your head into the window, both of your hands crossing around your chest. You shook your head

"Can you take me home, please?"

"I thought you were staying with me tonight?"

"Wanna go home, be with my dog and alone for a little while" You said softly not looking at him but rather looking at the houses that were in his friend's villa

"Are you mad?"

"I am tired and want to be with my dog"

"We can go pick her up and-"

"In my house" Pedri sighed nodding and put his hand on your tight but you crossed your legs before he could touch you. He got the hint and pushed his hand into his lap

"Entiendo" (Got it)

The rest of the drive was silent with only the radio playing up. Your chest was tight and all you wanted was your boyfriend to be at your side and not simply brushing it off

"¿Cómo puedo arreglarlo?" (How can I fix it?) He said right after he parked at the front of your house; you shrugged your shoulders

"Don't know" You sighed "As much as Victoria might love each and every single one of you, guys... I can assure you that what she said to me today and the way she said it, it wasn't a joke" You said "I'm a girl and I have a male best friend too. But I wouldn't say those kind of stuffs just as a friend or to see if she's worth and good for him" You shook your head "Es más, ni siquiera le diría algo de ese estilo a ella" (I wouldn't even tell her something like that)

"She likes you" You said after a few more seconds "And that's it"

"Mi vida, please-"

"I'm not making anything up" For the first time you looked at him "I'm a girl, I know things only a girl can. She likes you, Pedro"

"But I don't like her"

"Then let her know that" You said taking off the seatbelt, you grabbed his face and kissed his cheek, feeling his low stubble on your lips "Te quiero, guapo" You said softly and without the happy emotion you always carry when around your guy.

"Y yo a ti, bonita" He kissed the palm of your hand "I'm sorry for her, I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable because of it. I'll talk to her" You nod before getting out of the car "See you tomorrow?" You nod your head

"See you"

Your second meeting with Victoria was pretty normal but you could guess that she didn't wanted to make a bad impression with Pedri around and the fact he was eyeing both of you up and down, all of your expressions and acts, could've pulled her back a little bit.

"I was just joking!" She exclaimed a little too loud on your ear as you grimaced lightly "Sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable, it's just a little something I like to do!"

"Yes, well... It's not nice, please don't do it" Her response was an eye roll

"You're boring, girly" She said laughing as you tight smiled "Pepi, come on! We gotta show who the masters are!" And with that she took Pedri's hand and dragged him with her to play some ping pong against Adrián and Jesús (one of Pedri's friends)

The third one was your least favorite, you were on your way to the Ciutat Esportiva to pick Pedri up but first you went ahead and grabbed some coffe and pastries for the two of you to eat on your way home.

You were done with your order and were actually waiting for your two cups of coffee

"Be careful, miss" The girl said smiling softly "It's really hot"

"Thank you, I got it" You smiled and gave her a tip "Have a nice day"

She smiled back at you and once you were in the middle of walking out of the shop, you saw a woman come up to you and once you realized who it was, you felt your coffee being poured all over your front

"¡Puta madre, joder!" You screamed out in pain as people gasped and the same girl who attended you came rushing to you

"Miss what happend?" You couldn't speak at the tremendous pain you felt

"Some girl pushed her coffee up to her" A little boy said as you tried not to cry

"¡Cambiadle la ropa, ya!" (Change her clothes, now!) A woman said worried

"I got a spare shirt" A guy said going out running

"Échale un poco de agua fría" (Put her some cold water) An old man said

"Do you know who she was? Why would that girl do that?" The same girl asked worried taking you inside

"My boyfriend best friend's" You replied hissing feeling the cold water she was putting on you run down your body, it was both relaxing and painful "She hates me"

"Did you do something to her?"

"Date the guy she's in love with"

...

"Amor, if you couldn't pick me up, you could've told me" Pedri said once you got inside your house "I had to grab a cab since everyone left earli-¿Qué mierdas te pasó?" (What the hell happened?)

"Victoria, happened" You replied angrily "I was on my way to pick you up and I stopped at that little coffee shop we always go. She was there too and she poured on me my two cups of hot coffee, I had to go to the hospital to give me something for the burns"

"Oh my god"

"What?" You asked

"I can't believe you"

"Huh?"

"Victoria was all day long with the guys... I just ended a facetime with them"

"No, she wasn't. I'm not blind, Pedro. I know how her face is, I know how she looks like and I know what happened" You replied angry, you were angry at the fact he wasn't believing you "I don't have any reasons to hate her. She, on the other hand, does"

"She doesn't like me. I talked to her. It's crazy"

"No it isn't, Pedro. Otherwise, why the hell she would have dropped boiling coffee on me? Because she was testing me to see if I'm good or worthy for you?"

"I'm not up for this"

"You're not up for anything related to her lately"

"It's just something nonsense, Y/N! ¡Ella es única y solamente mi mejor amiga! ¡No tenemos sentimientos románticos, ni por su parte ni por la mía!" (We have no romantic feelings, neither on her part nor on mine!)

"Leave"

"What?"

"You're not up for this and you think I'm speaking nonsense, you can leave"

"She's not like that"

"And I'm not a liar, Pedro. I don't go around to get in trouble with people and you should know it. We've been together for a whole year and I have never lied to you. Not even once. I don't have anything against her but she does have something against me and if you can't see it then leave, but don't make me look as if I'm crazy because I'm not"

"Who's hoodie is this?"

"What?"

"This isn't mine and surely isn't yours. Who's this?"

"A guy offered me his hoodie, my shirt was drenched in coffee and if I stayed in it the only thing it would do was burn me more and I can't walk around the streets of Barcelona in bra, so I took it"

"Sure" He said nodding but you knew he didn't believed it

"I'm not lying, Pedro!"

"You're not lying, got it. But you want me to believe the person I have met since I was 10, the person who has supported me through everything is hurting the one I love the most?"

"Yes, because that's exactly what's happening!"

"You're unbelievable" Pedri shook his head "She's not like that, she wouldn't hurt the one I love the most! She's my friend, friends who are happy with each others happiness and she knows you're mine"

"But she doesn't want me to be your happiness, she wants to be your happiness. You're too oblivious to notice it!"

"I'll take up on your advice, we'll talk once you're calm"

"I can't be calm!"

"Nos vemos" (See you later)

You laughed in disbelief and shook your head. Your turned around to see Felicity, your black cream dachshund of two years laid on the couch who once heard the door closing started barking and surprisingly started to pull the space next to her. You smiled forgetting for a few seconds of your anger.

"Don't fall in love with any boy, yes?" You said to her petting her as she crawled on top of your lap "You do know how to make me feel better, Feli" She licked your clothed chest and smell it repeatedly "Mommy got burn" You took off the hoodie, your bare chest in the air.

Your bra was also drenched, the doctor who took care of you told you it was better if you took it off, she recommended you some creams and gave you a recipe to follow so the burning marks could fade away quickly.

You sighed and sad smiled when your little girl licked at your stomach "Mommy will go and take a shower. Will you help me with the creams? Or will you make some dinner?" She looked at you "Or how about I do both?" She barked and you smiled "Girls night"

...

"Fer, I'm not going" You said shaking your head over the phone, even though he couldn't see you

"Come on, it's my birthday"

"I'm going to sound like a proper bitch but I'm glad"

"You did sound like a bitch"

"Pedri will be there and you two share the same group of friends, so it's more than obvious she'll be there. I'm not going"

"Come on, Y/N/N" Fer said "I will not leave you alone for a single minute but you need to come. I need my sis"

"I'm not sure if I'm still being your sister-in-law after everything"

"You'll be my sis one way or another. Although I'd love both" You laughed lightly "I'm not saying he's right and I'm not saying you're completely right. But eventually you two need to talk about this, you guys love each other more than anything. You can do this, you can fix this"

"I don't think we can fix it, not this time"

"You always can" Fer said as you sighed "He's been a mess without you, he's not himself"

"He has his best friend to help him with that"

"He doesn't need a best friend, he needs to open his eyes and see the right thing before it's too late" Silence went over the line before he spoke up again "You may have fight, ugly ones... But you always make it out. Love and communication it's your guys thing"

"Things change, Fer. You know?"

"Not you guys" You shook your head

"Everything can" You both fell silent before Fer sighed

"Please come. If you don't want to talk to him, don't. Just be there for me. I won't lose my friendship with you"

"If you ever leave my side even if it's just for one second, I'll kick you where the sun doesn't shine, González"

"Deal" You heard the smile on his face "I'll pick you up tomorrow at 5"

What were you getting yourself into?

...

"Long time not to see you, missy" Adrián said as you stepped outside their backyard. You smiled softly opening your arms to hug him, you hissed softly when he hugged you tighter, the fabric of your shirt started to hurt on your aching chest "Sorry, Fer told us you got burnt" You smile softly shaking your head

"It's fine. I'm good now" Adrián tight smiled before rubbing your shoulders a few times making you laugh

His girlfriend, Anabella came and hugged you as well and soon the guys were greeting you with smiles, hugs and jokes. Until you got to Pedri.

"Hola" He said softly

"Hola" You said

"Didn't know you were going to be here today"

"Neither did I" You admitted "I was planning to make up some excuse but Fer didn't have it" Pedro smiled softly

"Glad he didn't" You hummed softly crossing your arms over your chest "How are you?" You sighed

"Been better" You said "You?"

"Awful" You looked at him softly "I missed you... A lot"

"I missed you too, Pepi" You said "A lot as well"

Four days you had not speaking to each other, no calls, a few texts but in the end a few texts meant nothing with everything it had to be said...

"I'm sorry" He said after a few seconds. You sighed and hugged him tightly not really caring about the ache this time

"We need to talk" You said and it was his turn to sigh before hugging your waist tightly "We need to fix us because we can't keep going this way, I love you too much to let you go"

"Glad to know we are on the same page though..." You smiled inhaling his scent "We do need to fix us. I don't want us like this" That's all he said and after a few seconds of hugging, you separated enough from him to join your foreheads

"Shall we go home after this party? We can talk in peace and be just you and me" He nodded

"That's nice" He smiled softly "Can we go now?" His comment made you laugh "I really really want to fix things between us"

"As much as I want to, we can't. We can't just leave your brother"

"Bueno, pero que él es bastante mayorcito para cuidarse solo" (Well, but he is old enough to take care of himself)

"It doesn't matter. I'm here because of him. I wasn't going to come here, Pedro"

He sighed before nodding "Can we leave a bit early tho?" You smiled nodding.

"That we can"

"After singing Happy Birthday?" You nod

"Most likely"

"Fer! I'm kinda hungry for that pineapple cake, don't you want to sing happy birthday now?" You hit his bicep lightly as you both laugh

"Don't pay any attention to this guy, Fer. Enjoy your evening" You smiled softly "And you stop. I'm also nervous and excited at the same time but stop and let's enjoy this evening before we talk, it's something pretty serious" Pedri nods

"How are you?"

"I told you I've been better"

"I don't mean emotionally this time. I meant physically. How are the burns?"

"Hopefully if I follow each and every single thing doctor days, there will be no visible scars"

"Are they pretty bad?"

"Let's say half and half" You shrugged

"I'm sorry about how I reacted with the hoodie thing" Pedro looked down "I should be grateful someone who didn't know you took care of you. And mostly with something as dangerous as boiling coffee is"

And it was all thanks to your amiga. You wanted to say bit bite your tongue back

"Yes, well... We can forget about that for now" You hummed "What are you drinking?"

"Apple juice" You nod

"I'll be needing some alcohol for this day; I'll better go and look for some"

"You'll need it?" You shrugged

"I don't know why I have this weird feeling and I just-" You said brushing it off going to the kitchen where Adrián's girlfriend, Anabella, was there serving herself something "Can you give me a glass of whatever you're drinking?"

"Something's up? You never drin- well... You don't drink hard things"

"I think I'll need it today"

...

Two hours into the party and not Fer nor Pedri have left your side. It seemed like both brothers were synchronized. You were having a good time and kinda were glad you had come.

Until it happened.

Your third vase of the night was empty and you stood up to make yourself a refill, you thought you were alone in the kitchen and once you pulled the glass container out of the fridge, you yelped seeing Victoria in front of you.

"Why are you here?" She said but you ignored her "I'm asking you something"

"And I'm deciding not to answer it" You simply said making your drink

"I don't want you here" ... "You better leave Pedri alone"

"He didn't asked me to come" You said looking at her "I'm here for Fer" You grabbed your drink and took a sip of it

"You're still distracting him"

"So...?" You asked "Look, I don't like you and you don't like me. We know that. Let's stay in our own sides..."

"I'll stay quier after you break up with him"

"Amor" You heard Pedri speak, you turned around towards the sound of his voice but soon felt your hand being yanked

"Why did you do that?!" Victoria yelled as you looked in shock at your drink on her

"Why did you do that?!" You replied

"Wha the hell?" Both of your heads turned towards the voice... Pedri. "What just happened?"

"Y/N throw her drink at me!"

"I did not! You did it by yourself!"

"Why would I do that? On myself? And if I did, why you have the vase?" She almost fake cried

"Because I was making my own drink!"

"Y/N" You heard Pedri and you looked at him shaking your head

"No. You gotta believe me, Pedro. I didn't do it, she did it by herself. She grabbed my arm when she heard your voice and pulled on it"

You saw him looking in between the two of you, the doubt clear on his eyes

"Victoria" He said

"I wouldn't throw on myself some drink just to get your attention. It was clearly her own doing, you have been telling me she's been making up some stuffs about me! She's clearly wanting you to hate me since we met each other"

"You know that's not true, mi vida. I have never lied to you, not once. Please, Pedro, you've got to believe me..."

"How will he believe you when you made up an absurd story about me throwing coffe on you"

"It's not an absurd story, it's true, you- why am I talking to you? Pedro, please" You looked back at him "You and I both know I don't have the best creativity to create something like this" You shook your head "Please" Your voice cracked

Pedro shook his head after a few seconds, a tear fell from his eye. "You have the vase on your hand and you've been saying all these things..." He started and your heart fell

"No. Yo no soy así, tú lo sabes." (I'm not like that, you know it)

"¿Lo sé?" (Do I?) He shook his head "La tú de estos útlimos días no son la tú de la cual me enamoré" (The you from these past few days aren't the you I fell in love with)

His words slapped you. Hard.

"Pedro, por favor... No tengo ningún motivo para odiarla, para lastimarla o perjudicarle de algún modo. Es ella quien a iniciado todo esto" (Pedro, please. I have no reason to hate her, to hurt her, or harm her in any way. It is she who started all this)

"Because I love him?" She said "He's only my best friend. You made up the in love things" She shook her head "You, on the other hand, had to make up some lame excuse for using another guy's hoodie"

"Hey" You said stepping forward "Mírame" (Look at me) He looked into your eyes "Please, tell me you believe me" His gaze fell "Pedro..."

"It's Pedri" He said "Only my friends and family can call me that"

You stumbled backwards

"Are you really going to do this?"

"You did it first"

You looked at him, at the love of your life, your stomach fell to the ground and you were holding back the tears. Your head was spinning and you couldn't believe it. Not coming from him.

You looked at her, who had a little smile on her face. She got what she wanted. "You won" You said and you saw how her head lifted up a bit while yours went down, hurt. You returned your look to, your now, exboyfriend.

"I really hope you never know the truth" You said sniffing "Take care, Pedri"

And with that you left the vase on the counter and walked out of the González's brothers house.

As soon as your body met the Barcelona air, your tears flew down your cheeks and you pushed your hand out for the first cab that passed on the streets.

Your forever looked like it was just words now. That night you cried yourself to sleep feeling hurt, betrayed and lonely.

... 7 days later ...

"Hey bro" Fer called out Pedri who was laid in his bedroom more than always "Everything good?"

"Not completely"

Fer sat next to Pedri and patted his thigh "Venga, vamos. Habla" (Speak)

Pedri didn't said anything. Words couldn't come out of his mouth and describe his feelings.

"A ver... What's wrong, Pedro? I won't ask again..." Pedro shook his head shrugging his shoulders

"We all know you guys broke up, the why it's still a mystery" Adrián said "In fact, the breakup itself it's a shock for all of us but it was your relationship"

Pedro sighed and closed his eyes... Images of you ran in his mind, he opened his eyes and ran his hands through his hair

"I haven't seen Victoria either which is pretty weird considering how in love is she with you and doesn't let you be" Jesús said

"What?"

"¿Qué de qué?" (What? What?)

"Victoria isn't in love with me"

"Oh no, she is. Please, don't tell me you didn't knew" Jesús laughed "It was painfully obvious. And the fact you are head over heels with Y/N, doesn't make Victoria happiest at all"

Pedri stood up

"What do you mean?" He asked with fear in his voice

"She was really mad about it, she conforted Y/N, poor girl was just trying to ignore her"

"Were you there?" Pedro asked

"I overheard them speaking that night at Fer's birthday. Victoria was going on about you and her, that your things with Y/N would end up soon... Those kind"

Pedri's mind was racing in fear and agony.

"No" He whispered

I had it in front of me all this time along.

"Is there any possibility for Victoria to have made those burns in Y/N's skin?"

"Well, it can be... She got out of the house around noon so..." Pedri's eyes clicked up like lightning all the dots were connecting by your side.

You were right. All this time you were.

He had been too stupid to realize that "No" He whispered once more

"What's up, dude?"

"I fucked up bro. Big one"

The only thing Pedri could do now, was pray, pray and hope for him not to be so late.

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviypedrisbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld @http-isabela

#M. is writing #M. replies #fc barcelona #fc barca #pedri #pedri gonzalez #pedri gonzález x reader #pedri gonzalez x reader #pedri x reader #pedri gonzález #pedri gonzález fic #pedri fic

[barcaracing]

you’re wearing his kit pt. 2 | pg8

summary: pedri and y/n go public with their relationship and it doesn't take long before the media digs up her past with another barcelona player whose name happens to be on the back of her kit in one photo

pairing: pedri x reader ft. platonic!gavi

warnings: angst, fluff, language

a:n: here’s part two to you’re wearing his kit! it's been sitting in my drafts for FAR too long bc i couldn't figure out the ending, but i’m so excited to see what u think. it’s a lot. in every way. 6k words from my family to yours. enjoy!!

*******

"You're not Aurora," you say, frowning. The person on the other side of the threshold gives a small smile. He inclines his head a little as if he was caught in the act and stares at you almost shyly through his lashes.

"Sorry to disappoint. Some people say we have the same nose if that's any consolation."

You lean against the door frame and arch an eyebrow. "You do not have the same nose."

He tucks his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and shrugs. "I don’t see it either but it’s what they say."

"Well, if that’s what they say," you drawl and cross your arms in front of your chest. You both fall silent, glancing around awkwardly as you wait for the other person to speak first. To no one’s surprise, it ends up being you.

"Pablo?"

He meets your gaze with a questioning look.

"What are you doing here?"

He fiddles with his sleeves and shifts his weight from one leg to the other, practically squirming.

"And where's your sister?" You glance behind him. "She said she would pick me up at noon. It’s 12:30 and you’re obviously not her."

"No," he says, "but the nose—"

"Gavi."

He loosens a breath. "I wanted to talk to you, but you didn’t return any of my calls or texts. You even ignored the spam mails I sent you." He narrows his eyes accusingly. "I expected better from my mystery lover."

You make a face. "Mystery lover?"

"One of the nicknames the press calls you." He grins. "I also like Gavi's Kitmate and Number-Swapping Seductress. But my favourite is the Jersey Juggler. It's hilarious."

"It's mortifying," you say, sounding as exasperated as you feel.

Grimacing, you push yourself off the door frame and consider the brown-haired boy before you. He keeps fidgeting and it’s starting to make you feel nervous as well. You sigh. “Fine,” you say, nudging the door open with your foot. "Come in."

Gavi's eyebrows shoot up. He’s quick to enter your flat without question, kicking off his shoes and tailing you into the kitchen where he heads straight for the fridge.

"I'm glad you let me in." He scans the content and picks up a container with leftovers to smell it. "Your neighbours probably thought I was harassing you." He puts the lid back on with a grimace and rummages through the rest of your food.

"You were harassing me," you say, hopping onto the kitchen counter next to the fridge. You watch him pop a grape into his mouth before taking out the entire bowl and two water bottles. He places one of them next to your legs, which are propped on the kitchen island, then sits on it and opens the other bottle to take a sip.

"So," Gavi says, balancing the bowl of grapes on his legs as he settles his feet beside you on the counter. "How have you been?"

Your head falls back against the cupboard and you stare up at the ceiling. "I was looking forward to seeing Aurora again. We wanted to grab some food before our flight later, but you know how that worked out."

Gavi hums. "You know, it still weirds me out that you're friends with my sister when I knew you first."

Your lips twitch. "You're aware we can have other friends besides each other, right?"

"Have some faith." He snorts. "I’m fully aware that you're dating my best friend and teammate."

His eyes widen.

He clamps his mouth into a thin line and shifts awkwardly. "Sorry," he mutters. "I wanted to ease into that a lot smoother but, er, yeah. I don’t think it worked."

"It's fine," you say half-heartedly, choosing to ignore how your chest rapidly fills with anxiety. "I appreciate the effort."

"How have you been dealing with that?" He twists the bottle between his palms, looking at you carefully. You really do appreciate how he powers through this. Gavi has never been much of a talker. If it was up to him, he would rather just give you a hug and offer you gum.

Still, you can't bring yourself to meet his effort with an answer, so you raise your shoulder in a weak shrug. There's not much that comes to mind. These past few days have bled into each other until all you can recall are tear-stained pillows and stuffing almost everything you own into a box in your closet because they remind you of Pedri.

"I haven't really dealt with it, I guess."

"You haven't?" Gavi looks surprised.

"No." You frown, staring at your socks. "I don't even know what’s left to deal with."

You hate how fragile you sound. You especially hate how every word holds some truth that you’ve been avoiding with every fibre in your body. The uncertainty is crushing you. There is no more of the anger and frustration that gripped each nerve of yours after you had left Pedri's flat.

It only flared up again when you saw the video of him accepting the girl's number. For days, all you could see was red. You felt betrayed and hurt. God, so hurt. You haven't let yourself truly think about it because the moment you do, it will turn into grief and that's the last thing you want.

You know grief is just love that no longer has a place to go, but you don’t want to carry that with you. You won't mourn anything yet. Not before someone calls an end to this relationship. That's the least Pedri can do.

"I don't know what happened between you, but I can piece it together seeing how he hasn't talked to me in days. Hasn't talked much to anyone during practice, to be honest. He also keeps losing every rondo." He scratches his jaw in deep thought. "I didn't even know that was possible for a midfielder. He also looks like shit if that makes you feel any better."

It doesn't, you think miserably to yourself. You shake your head. "I’d hate for him to play badly because of me. I still want Spain to win tomorrow, you know.” You knock your legs into his with a small smile. “Speaking of, shouldn’t you be in Málaga?”

Gavi bumps his legs into yours as well. “Ansu’s covering for me. They probably think I’m in my hotel room, resting like a saint.”

“You’re insane,” you say because he is. “Aurora knows?”

The corner of his mouth tugs up. “Knows that I’m insane? Hopefully. I’ve got it from her.” You roll your eyes and stretch out your hand, asking for some grapes. He dumps a few in your palm. “She knows I’m here, yes. I’m actually here to pick you up for your flight. She’s already in Málaga.”

“What?” The grape nearly falls out of your mouth. “Why?”

Gavi shrugs. “Didn’t say, but she probably knew that you needed someone to talk to and that it should probably be me.”

“That’s betrayal,” you say, completely fond of her.

He hums. “She also wanted to make sure that you still come to the match and she knew you could never say no to me.”

“That’s not true,” you sputter, although it is, sadly, very true.

Gavi knows that as well, so he just grins like the idiot he is. His smile lingers and for a moment, you’re just looking at each other.

Beach strolls in the winter and kicking a ball around on a random pitch at midnight come to mind when you look at the familiar brown of his eyes. You’re grateful to have a friend like him. His presence is comforting. But it doesn’t take long for the air to grow thick. His gaze drifts to his lap.

“Remind me again why we were never together,” he says jokingly, but his voice is gentle and earnest and it doesn’t quite feel like he’s teasing.

You let the last grape roll around in your palm as you think about his question. “We went on one date and it was the most awful thing that ever happened to us.”

“Right.” Gavi chuckles, delighted by the memory of you two sitting in a stuffy restaurant, talking about things that you already knew about each other.

You laugh softly. “We were awkward, bored, and sick of each other after 10 minutes. At some point, I considered climbing out the window while you ripped every napkin they gave you to shreds because you couldn’t stop fidgeting. So we just promised to stay friends. Very wise decision.”

“Wise beyond our years,” Gavi agrees. “No offence, but I nearly puked that night from how wrong it felt to be on a date with you. If I learned anything, it’s that some people are just meant to be friends.”

You nod, smiling easily. “At least we got that part down.”

He winks and offers you another handful of grapes. “We make a good pair. Completely platonic pair.”

You hum supportively and pick at your grapes. You sit in comfortable silence as you eat. Then he clears his throat and you find him already looking at you.

“It is, right?” He asks carefully, adjusting the bowl in his lap. “Completely platonic, I mean.”

You blink at him. “Are you joking?”

“I–“ He clears his throat again. “I’m just wondering.”

“Oh my God, Gavi.” You stare at him in disbelief before aiming a grape at his face. He swats it away. Couldn’t even have the decency to let it hit him.

“Of course, it’s completely platonic! I haven’t felt anything for you since that cursed day.” He nods to himself and exhales in relief, prompting you to narrow your eyes. “Except maybe disgust and intense dislike like right now. I can’t believe you asked me that when I have a boyfriend.”

“Sorry, I was just—” He holds up his hands when you chuck another grape at him. It bounces off his chest. “I just needed to make sure we’re on the same page here because someone clearly thinks we aren’t. Again, I have no idea what happened. I’m just here to feed you and get you on a plane.”

"Not doing the best job, are you?" You hold up the grapes and fix him with a look.

“We'll get something to eat on our way there.” He shrugs and sets the bowl aside, running a hand through his hair multiple times, obviously wanting to say more. Gavi’s eyes drift to the ceiling. He closes them with an exhale.

"I just need to know that you weren't fighting because of me. I really did like you for some time, Y/N, and I know it was reciprocated, but that was a long time ago and before we realised we'd never be anything more than friends. When Pedri asked you to be his girlfriend, I saw how happy he made you and I just knew no one would ever come between you. I'd really, really hate for that person to be me.”

You gawk at him. This is the most honest and rambly you have ever heard him, and you can't put into words how much that means to you. But you won't even have to do that because the great thing about Pablo Páez Gavira is that you don't need words to talk.

All you have to do is slide down the counter and sit beside him on the kitchen island. You lay your head on his shoulder and feel him wrap an arm around you, squeezing once before letting go.

"It wasn't your fault," you say quietly into the room, prompting Gavi to glance at you. "You did nothing wrong. Pedri just...there are some things we need to talk about, but we'll be fine, I think." You cringe inwardly at how unsure you sound. Gavi arches his brows in a way that tells you he heard it too.

He knocks his shoulder into yours and cracks a smile. "Very convincing. Now tell me what happened because I can't think of any more ways to make you understand that I don't know—"

"What happened. Got it," you say, rolling your eyes playfully. It wasn't your intention to keep this from Gavi. It's just that you haven't told anyone anything yet. In retrospect, you haven't really spoken much at all these past few days. So when you do, it feels relieving. The words simply tumble out of your mouth without any order or purpose, and you let them carry you through the events that took place almost two weeks ago.

How Pedri posted a beach selfie of you grinning into the camera with him sitting behind, arms wrapped around you and pressing a kiss into your shoulder. How he tagged you in the photo and threw his phone across the room in a panic only to walk back over to delete the app and turn off all notifications before pulling you close by the waist, spinning around the room, laughing. How liberating, nerve-wracking, and terrifying it felt to have the world know of something so precious and lovely and only meant for you two.

You don't realise you've been smiling the entire time until your face gradually drops and you start talking about the moment where everything went wrong.

How you wanted to scream and rip your hair out when Pedri and Fer looked at you like you were a stranger, but you still had no clue what had happened. How you felt betrayed and hurt that your own boyfriend didn't trust you and never gave you the chance to explain, making you feel helpless because you saw how hurt he was, but there was nothing you could do except let him try to inflict the same pain by flinging words at you that still clawed holes into your chest.

By the time you're done, Gavi is visibly simmering and you have to call his name twice before he snaps out of it.

"I’ll talk to him," he promises, his voice unusually hard.

"Okay?" You say, taken aback. "And what are you going to say?”

-✩-

"You're a dickhead, you know that?" Gavi slams the door behind him. He locks it, then strides into the dressing room, stopping a few steps away from Pedri who's sitting on a bench and taking off his cleats, barely reacting to his teammate's entrance.

"Still not talking to me." Gavi huffs, throwing his hands in the air. "Of course, you aren't. And here I thought I got lucky after you knocked me over right in front of Xavi. A real gem you are, by the way."

Pedri keeps his gaze on his shoes as he unties them—or rather yanks on the laces with a lot more force than necessary. Gavi watches him manhandle his footwear a moment longer before his patience runs thin. He snatches the shoe from his hand and casts it aside.

Pedri's head snaps up. He narrows his eyes at him, then turns around to toss the other shoe into his locker. While going through his stuff, he shakes his head and mutters, "Unbelievable."

Gavi glares at the back of his head. He's got to be kidding. One word. That's all he gets after nearly two weeks of silence. One word mumbled under his breath. Oh, he really is a dickhead.

"What is?" Gavi snaps, sounding as irritated as he feels. "Just fucking talk to me. I'm so sick of—"

"You ran into me five times today!" Pedri cuts him off, spinning around. "Five times in a 40 min practice session. You know that’s insane, right?”

Gavi halts.

He didn't really expect to get a response. But now that he got one, he realises that he'll just have to do anything to keep him talking. Easy enough.

He shrugs. "So what?"

Pedri blinks violently. "What do you mean so what? You just kept barreling into me like a mad person. Jordi wouldn’t even leave my side anymore after you tackled me to the ground."

Gavi coughs to conceal his laughter. Perhaps he did overdo it. He waves him off. "It's football."

Pedri stares at him in disbelief. "You shoved me over during recovery."

"Yes, well." He shrugs again. "Serves you right."

Pedri gapes at him. Then, he rolls his eyes and goes back to looking for something. "I don't have time for this."

Gavi swears his eye twitches. If there's anything that pisses him off more than being ignored, it's being dismissed. Especially by a teammate and friend. Apparently, he'll just have to drop right into it.

"We need to talk," he says firmly. Pedri simply takes off his training kit and puts on a fresh shirt, apparently back to ignoring Gavi who is close to strangling him. "Why haven't you apologised to Y/N yet?" He continues, and that seems to get Pedri's attention.

He stops, hand hovering at his locker. Gavi can practically see his brain short-circuit as his shoulders grow rigid with tension.

"What?" Pedri asks, gaze fixed on the locker door.

"You were an asshole to her and I refuse to believe you don't know that," he says, eyeing Pedri as he winces and stares down at his feet. At least he’s reacting to it. Gavi loosens a breath and takes a step forward. "I know you and I know her—"

"Seems like it," Pedri mumbles before shutting his locker.

"Look," Gavi says, treading carefully, "she told me what happened and it's shitty of you not to believe her, but I swear that nothing ever happened between us. We’ve always just been friends and you know that. Those pictures are old and she's only wearing my kit in them because I gave it to her, but—"

"You gave it to her?" Pedri looks up with a frown.

Something about his demeanour shifts. Gavi isn’t sure why but he gets the distinct feeling that whatever is approaching is important to him. It's huge. He's just missing some information on what it is. Pedri continues, "So she didn't buy it. That's your actual kit that you gave her and she wore?"

"Well," Gavi scratches his cheek, still failing to see the point. "Yeah? I don't understand—"

"You told me once that you'd only give your kit to the girl who would be it for you," Pedri says, his voice growing quiet as the room falls silent.

Gavi stiffens. There it is.

"You thought it'd bring bad luck if you didn't give it to the person you know you’d want to see wearing it for the rest of your life.” Pedri’s gaze is hazy as he’s recounting the memory. “You said it to me last year.”

Gavi stares at him, feeling stupid for not having seen it coming. It's ridiculous how he got blindsided. His mind is loud—a stark contrast to the deafening silence. It rings in his ears. All it takes is one look at his face before Pedri drops to the bench with his head in his hands. "So it's true."

"Pedri."

"I know I messed up, okay?" He runs his hands over his face and through his hair. "I know it. The way she looked at me broke my fucking heart, and it's been killing me that I did that to her."

Gavi decides to take a hesitant step forward. Every conversation he's had today didn't go as planned, so he's not certain about anything anymore. Less than he usually is with words, anyway. But something tells him that his best friend is about to spill his guts. He wants to be there for him. So he sits beside him and waits.

"I tried to call her," Pedri goes on quietly, eyes still fixed on the ground. "But it was only once and she didn’t pick up. And even if she did, I still have no clue what to tell her. I mean—I believe her. Of course, I do. I would trust her with my life, but I'm just…" Pedri bites his lip, brows knitted.

He sighs. "It hurts. It fucking hurts to see her wear your name and number, not caring that everyone can see it. But when I asked her if she wanted to wear my kit to a game, she said no. Every time. She gave her reasons, and I understand and respect them; told her it was fine, but what you said just kept repeating in my head and I thought, here I've found the person I want to see wearing my kit for the rest of my life and she doesn't want it." He looks away and swallows.

Gavi's heart breaks for him.

"She wanted yours. And now I find out you wanted her to have it as well." Pedri shakes his head. He finally looks up and meets his gaze. "Well, fuck, I want her to be happy, don’t I?"

The look in his eyes is devastating. Gavi furrows his brows and wracks his brain for the right words. Any words, really.

"Hermano, this is a conversation you should be having with Y/N," he mutters more to himself than to Pedri. He rubs the back of his neck. “I did say all that, yes, but I wasn't thinking of it when I gave her my kit. She went to a few matches with Aurora and wanted to support me as a friend."

Gavi pauses to think about how he can best put into words what he's about to say. The last thing he wants is to kick a guy who's already on the ground.

"I think some part of me liked seeing her in my kit," he says, carefully. "I guess I got used to it. But I never imagined actually seeing her wear it for the rest of our lives because I just never felt anything that intense for her. It was just a crush. A temporary thing. And whatever my feelings were, they disappeared anyway after that date we went on. You know the one we told you about that was so bad, Y/N considered never speaking to me again? That one."

When Pedri doesn't respond, Gavi adds, "Look, I know for a fact that Y/N doesn't have any feelings for me either, and that's exactly how we want it and how it's supposed to be."

Pedri fiddles with the hem of his shorts. "What makes you so sure?"

"The way she looks at you," Gavi answers right away. "She never looked at me that way. Anyone who has spent less than a minute with her knows she's in love with you."

Pedri stops fidgeting and Gavi swears he can see him blush. Finally, he meets his gaze. "I’m in love with her too."

"Of course, you are."

"I'm terrified."

Gavi can't help but snort. "Are you?"

Pedri's brows draw together.

"When you think of her, what do you feel?" He gives him a knowing look. "Because I don't think it's fear. And I think you know that as well. Don't lose her over this, Pedri. Don't lose her ever but especially not over this. You're good for each other."

Gavi is almost relieved to see him ponder his words. Gradually, his face clears and there's a small sparkle in his eyes that Gavi recognises from when Pedri sees an opportunity during a match. A space that holds endless potential and no matter what, he can't help but rush towards it. He can't even count how many times he has caught Pedri looking at you like that.

"I want her to be happy." He says it with so much conviction and finality that Gavi doesn't feel like it needs an answer.

"She is happy," he insists anyway and adds, "With you." Because he really is Cupid himself today.

Pedri nods, absent-minded, and rises to his feet to pace the room as he mumbles numbers to himself. Gavi watches in amusement as he gestures around, counting off things he's going to say and do. Finally, he comes to a halt and turns around, eyes twinkling.

"It takes less than two hours to get to Barcelona, right? If I leave now, I can make it back by 4. That's still 5 hours of sleep. It will only work if there's a flight leaving right now, but I'll make it. I have to. I'll probably be late for morning practice and it'll likely just be 4 hours of sleep, but it's fine because Norway—"

"Okay!" Gavi stands up, helplessly grinning. "None of that will be necessary."

Pedri frowns. "But I need to see her before the match or I’ll explode or score an own goal because my head’s a mess."

"That'd be embarrassing," Gavi says. "Especially in front of Y/N."

"What?" Pedri slowly shakes his head as if Gavi is the one who doesn’t understand. "I'm lucky if she'll ever want to see me again. I don't think she'll come all the way out here to watch a match if I'm playing in it. She wouldn’t."

"You're not wrong." Gavi chuckles. "But she promised Aurora she'll go with her to the game since my parents can't."

Pedri blinks, mouth opening and closing. "Oh."

"Exactly." Gavi’s cheeks hurt from how much he's smiling. "She's in Màlaga. Hotel room probably."

"Is it—"

"Yeah."

Pedri dashes off. Only to trip over his discarded shoe and go flailing to the ground. Gavi wheezes with laughter as he helps him up.

"My bad," he chokes out but Pedri barely even hears it, already out the door.

-✩-

"Oh," you say, staring at the hunched-over figure that just knocked on your door like the hotel was on fire and you were all going to die. "You're not Aurora either."

Pedri looks up and blinks through the sweat dripping from his forehead, gasping for air. "Huh?"

"Nothing," you mumble to yourself, "just mourning the fact that I'll apparently never see my friend again." You shake your head and shift on the spot. Pedri is still breathing heavily, hands resting on his knees and staring at you with a dazed look on his face.

His face is flushed the way it is when he plays football and somehow that just seems especially cruel. Your mind is still trying to grasp that Pedri is standing in front of you. Here. Right at your door. You were actually delusional enough to think that you’d somehow be able to avoid him.

Now, all you can think about is how the pink of his cheeks brings out his cheekbones and how his damp hair curls at the front and clings to his forehead. He looks really, really lovely.

Clearing your throat, you force yourself to look away. That seems to shake him out of whatever stupor he was in as well.

"Alright," he stammers, nodding supportively although he has no idea what you're talking about. "I'm sure she'll come around."

Your lips twitch and Pedri's gaze drops almost reflexively. You can't help but look to the side, running a hand up your arm as he clears his throat.

"Sorry, er, I...actually don't know what to say." He straightens and rubs the back of his neck as though it just dawned on him. He smiles sheepishly. "All I could think about on my way here was that you're in Màlaga and how happy I was that you came because I am—happy about it, I mean. I should've thought about what I wanted to say because now I'm just rambling like an idiot but I'm just—I'm so happy. That you’re here. I'm really happy you're here."

You nod hesitantly, not sure how to respond. For some reason, you feel the need to say, "I'm here because of Aurora. She asked me to go to the match with her tomorrow."

Pedri's eyes flickers between yours before they widen. "Oh no, yeah, I know. I knew that. I wouldn't have assumed—I didn't think you came because of me."

You nod again. "Okay."

He looks around the hallway, apparently keen on basking in the awkwardness before his eyes meet yours, seeming almost shy. "Hey, er, can we talk?"

Something inside you rips. The emotional whiplash almost cuts off your airways. You feel blissfully relieved because, yes, of course, we can talk. Always. You've been waiting for this moment. You want this. But the other half is prickling with dread and anxiety about how this talk will end. You have the willpower of a divine being when you force yourself to answer with a steady voice.

"Sure."

God, you're strong. So strong.

Giving you a small smile, Pedri makes to enter your hotel room, but you shake your head and step forward, pulling the door close by a centimetre. "No, not in there."

Pedri steps back robotically, looking puzzled as he glances behind you through the crack of the door. "Er, okay, that's fine. Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, it’s just—" You gesture aimlessly as if that would make him understand. "I just have to stay here for two more nights and depending on how this will go, I won't be able to put it all into a box. Since it's not my stuff," you add after a beat although that seems to only confuse him more.

"I'm sorry—what box?"

You wave him off and turn to grab the keycard before closing the door. "Doesn't matter. Do you know another place?"

Pedri blinks a few times. You can see him cast another confused look at the door before nodding. "Yeah, I know a place. Come on, I’ll show you."

He holds out his hand.

You look at it.

Before you can react, Pedri curses under his breath and retracts his hand, running it through his hair instead. "Sorry. Habit," he mutters, then turns around briskly, starting down the hall.

You follow without a word, not saying anything about how the tips of his ears are burning red. Or how he's walking around in training shorts and socks. You don't comment on his shirt that is inside out either.

You just keep your gaze ahead and focus on your heartbeat as it pounds like crazy. You barely even notice that you've arrived if it weren’t for the gust of wind that leaves a trail of goosebumps on your arms.

"The rooftop," you say, looking around. "Planning to push me off?"

"If you wish," he says. The ghost of a grin blooms on his lips. The wind blows again and you reflexively take a step forward to escape the cold. Distractedly, Pedri comes closer as well, his eyes on the sky above. "I don't think it's going to rain, but we can go inside if you want."

"I'm fine," you say, letting your gaze drift around. "The view is stunning."

"So are—" Pedri coughs. "So are the clouds."

"Hm?" You look up. "Oh yeah, they're pretty." A soft smile settles on your lips as you squint at the clouds, trying to make out any shapes. You can feel his eyes on you, and you try very hard not to think about how that makes you feel.

"Do you want to sit?" He eventually asks in a gentle tone. You tear your gaze away and nod, following him to the edge of the roof.

"So," Pedri starts once you're sat beside each other, legs dangling above the streets below. "I'm a dickhead."

"No, you're not," you mumble, eyes set on the view ahead. "It takes a lot to be a dickhead. You're just an idiot."

He gives a quiet laugh. "I'm serious."

"I thought you were a dickhead."

"I can be both," he says, gaze still locked onto the side of your face. "Look, I want to apologise—which I should've done weeks ago."

You can't bring yourself to meet his gaze, but he doesn't seem to mind. "I know it wasn't fair of me to say those awful things to you and then not let you explain, but I did it anyway and I have never regretted anything more. I hate that I wanted to hurt you. And I really hate that I'm capable of it, but I need you to know that I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm so fucking sorry."

You let his words linger between you. Taking a deep breath, you shift your gaze. The look in his eyes almost catches you off-guard. It's sincere and bare.

"You don't have to accept my apology right now," he goes on, "but I know a lot of things were left unsaid that day, so you can say them now and I'll listen. Yell at me if you want. Honestly, shove me off this building, I won't judge."

A smile tugs on your lips.

"Can't kill you now," you say, "still got a game to play." The corners of his eyes crinkle as he chuckles. You missed that sound. Pulling your legs up to your chest, you lean your cheek on your knee and lose yourself in his eyes. For a moment, it's quiet. There are cars below and birds above, but there's also quiet. Serene. Softly, you say, "You really hurt me, Pedro."

He nods slightly and adjusts his body so that he's fully facing you.

"I've never seen you get so mad before," you continue. "You barely lose your temper when you get a yellow card, but you did over those pictures and I just don't understand." You shake your head. "I know you get jealous sometimes but not like that. Not over Gavi. I've told you everything you wanted to know about our friendship, and you said you didn't mind any of it. You said you liked how close we are and that you trusted me."

You swallow the lump in your throat. "I want to know why you stopped. I know there's more to it than just me wearing Gavi's kit and I've been trying to figure it out every day because I keep thinking it must be something big and awful in order for you to just leave me." Your voice cracks. Your vision blurs and in the back of your mind, you know you're tipping over and you should probably reel it back but honestly? You don't want to.

"I want to accept your apology, I really do. I missed you so much, Pedri. So fucking much." He opens his mouth to respond before thinking better of it. You're grateful for it because you don’t doubt for a second that you’ll simply break down if he says it back. "But you hurt me so much more than that. You left me."

The words feel like venom on your tongue and by the look on Pedri's face, they burn like it too. "You know I was terrified of making our relationship public. There's nothing more terrifying to me than attention on that scale, but you said it would be fine and people could say whatever they wanted because you'll be by my side. Well, it happened. We did it. People said horrible things to me; to my friends and family. And you weren't there."

Pedri closes his eyes briefly, sucking in a sharp breath. You almost want to take it back and tell him it's not that big of a deal because you know you were close to mending things, but you feel so much lighter now that it's out. That has to count for something.

You feel fingertips brush your cheek. Dazed, you realise that Pedri has come closer to wipe away a tear you didn't even know was there. You don't lean into his palm and he doesn't let it linger either. Instead, he holds it out in front of you. Hesitantly, you reach out. The tips of your fingers graze the inside of his hand. His hand closes, gently holding onto yours.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I really am." He holds your gaze even if his voice cracks. "You're right, I shouldn't have left you alone after convincing you to go public. I was horrified and ashamed of what I did and said just to hurt you in the same way I felt hurt. I couldn't bring myself to face you afterwards. I know it's not an excuse, but you deserve an explanation."

He takes a deep breath and squeezes your hand, seemingly without meaning to.

"A while ago, Gavi said something to me that kept bothering me. It crossed my mind every now and then when we talked about posting that photo, but it only really hit me when I saw those pictures and articles. That's when it became real and I guess I took it as confirmation of something I've always been insecure of." Pedri falters and looks to the side.

When you don’t respond, he quietly explains, "Gavi said he'd only give his kit to the person he knew he wanted to see wearing it for the rest of his life. That having anyone else wear it to matches would bring bad luck, so he’s waiting for the right person."

You stare at him.

Slowly loosening a breath you didn't know you were holding, you try to find your voice. "He said that?"

Pedri nods. You can feel him loosen his grip on your hand.

"Okay," you say, shaking your head to clear your mind. "Alright then."

You pull your hand back and let it fall into your lap, biting back a scoff. "You really are a dickhead."

*********

okokok i know u probably hate me rn, but i promise there's a part three :)) i wouldn't just leave u hanging like that lol i just wanted to get this out sooner than later and tbh there's still so much missing. the grovelling! the anger! the grovelling, people!!! anyway, feel free to leave some feedback, so i know if anyone even wants a third part. stay hydrated guys x

#pedri x reader #pedri #pedri imagine #pedri one shot #pedri fluff #pedri gonzalez #pedri fanfic #pedri fic #pedri x y/n #pedri x you #pedri angst #pablo gavi imagine #pablo gavi fanfic #pablo gavi #gavi x reader #gavi #gavi imagine #pablo gavi one shot #fc barcelona #barca #fc barca fanfic #fc barcelona fanfic #fc barca

[pedriscroquettes]

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄. PEDRI

summary. you’d always claimed pedri as yours while he always found you as a disturbance to his life. here’s the timeline of your relationship.

warnings. angst, fluff, asshole!pedri, kind of annoying reader(?), virginity mentions, and a love triangle?

a/n. this goes out to all the delusional girlies like me. gif by pedripics

september 2007

the look of horror on your teacher’s face contrasted your calm demeanor. you thought she was overreacting when in truth she was not. you were too calm for what had just happened to you. doña rosy’s son had just cut off a huge chunk of your hair and was currently running around the class displaying it like a prize. the fact that you weren’t as upset as you should’ve been shocked your teacher.

the reality of it is that you thought pedro was cute and somehow instead of crying about your loss of hair you were rather flattered about it. you were quite literally insane for thinking that somehow this demonstrated that pedro liked you. at least that’s what your older cousin would say.

“boys are mean because they like you.” her words echoed in your mind.

soon the two of you along with your parents and pedro’s older brother fer were in the principals office. your mother was in shock and couldn’t believe that you’d have to start your hair growth process all over again. meanwhile, pedro’s mom was full of embarrassment and of course both father’s couldn’t help but laugh at the scene in front of them. after all you were both just kids who didn’t know better.

“well it seems your daughter isn’t too upset about the events that occurred therefore i have no reason to suspend pedro.” the principal decided.

“what? he cut off a chunk of my daughters hair! it will take months for it to grow back! surely there’s got to be some form of punishment for him?” your mother yelled.

“but mom i’m not mad at him.” you tried to tell her but she wouldn’t listen to you.

“fine. pedro is designated table cleaner after lunch for the rest of the month and no recess for a week.” the principal sighed.

“but mrs. dominguez we play football during recess hour i can’t miss it!” pedro whined.

“you should’ve thought about that before chasing your classmate with scissors and almost leaving her hairless.” she scolded him.

on the way out of mrs. dominguez’s office pedro’s parents couldn’t stop apologizing for what he had done. meanwhile, all you could do was stare at him. he was the cutest boy you had ever seen, given that you were only six and didn’t know any better obviously. it didn’t take long for him to notice your glare and he began to approach you slowly. you lifted your shoulders thinking this was finally going to be the moment he declared his undying love for you like men did in the movies. you stood there stupidly with a smile plastered on your face.

“i should’ve cut off the other side of your hair if i knew you’d stop me from playing football. i hate you.” he told you before chasing after his older brother.

any other girl would’ve started crying, well more like any other smart girl. they would’ve realized he meant what he said but not you. you simply thought he was bluffing that he still wasn’t ready to confess his feelings. so, you simply brushed it off and picked up your book bag. you couldn’t wait for saturday, the day your family always went to his parents restaurant to have dinner. maybe he’d confess then.

october 2013

the humid hot air of the island almost made you turn around and go back home but your foolishness made you continue your walk. it took you almost fifteen minutes to make it to the local football field but alas you had arrived on time for kickoff. you sat next to fer, someone you had somehow gotten close with the last few years. it also helped that he was pedro’s brother and allowed for you to be close to him.

“why are you here?” fer turned around to face you.

“geez, didn’t know i was such a bother to you.” you joked.

“oh, come on! i like you my brother hates you which is why i’m so surprised as to why you’re here.” he looks back onto the field spotting his brother.

“pedro doesn’t hate me he’s just too scared to confess his feelings for me.” you playfully hit fer on the shoulder.

“yeah, okay. just don’t give him too many children i don’t want to take care of too many kids in the future.” he jokes.

the both of you chat for a bit catching up on your day to day when all of a sudden the ball hits the back of the net and the local crowd, which consists purely of parents and siblings, goes wild. you notice it’s pedro who has scored as he starts running towards the area you and fer are located and blows a kiss to the crowd. like the delusional girl you are you pretend it’s meant for you. no, you know it is because you’re still stuck on the idea that pedro is devotedly in love with you.

the referee blows the whistle and tegueste takes the win with a score of 4-1. you immediately follow fer onto the pitch to congratulate his younger brother and find him chatting with his teammates. pedro immediately goes up to his brother and starts thanking him for coming as their parents couldn’t since it was a busy night at the restaurant. you get ready to tell him how well he played but as soon as he sees you he walks away.

you’re supposed to be embarrassed but somehow you think he’s the one who is. you think that he’s too nervous to be around you and that’s why he left so suddenly. you’re about to walk back home when one of his teammates stops you.

“hey!” he seems excited to talk to you.

“hi.” you greet him back.

“i’m xabi, does your brother play here?” he asks curiously.

“uh no. my friend does. pedro.” you explain.

“oh! pedro! he’s great! he’s going to be good i think. do you go to-” he’s interrupted by pedro himself.

pedro is too quick and silent you don’t even notice that he’s been sneaking up on you until he’s standing right in front of you. he’s staring at you with a devious smile on his face and you wish you knew what he was thinking.

“you know what we usually do after a win?” pedro asks you.

“we grab the buck-” xabi is once again interrupted.

“shut up xabi.” pedro turns around to shut xabi up.

“we usually grab the bucket of water and pour it on all the scorers but today i proposed that we do something differently. i think you were our lucky charm and that’s why we should pour it on you.” his smile somehow grows wider.

you’re flattered at first but then realization hits you. the dress you’re wearing is too cute to end up drenched. most importantly you didn’t want to get sick. your smile falters when you see his teammates approaching you with the large bucket of ice cold water.

“no, pedro please.” you beg.

he tries to hold you still but your instincts kick in and you immediately kick his ankle. he lets go and you immediately start running. you don’t realize it but he starts chasing after you. you’re about to cross the street when he grabs you from behind and pushes you against the wall. he has a smirk on his face again. you panic not wanting to get soaked. you try to kick him again but this time he doesn’t budge and you’re about to give up when suddenly an idea pops up in your mind.

you grab his cheeks and kiss him.

“what?” he’s confused.

you can’t help but smile at the way his cheeks turn pink but you don’t have a lot of time so as soon as his grip on you loose a you take a run for it. you arrive home exhausted and out of breath. you dramatically fall on your bed with a smile on your face excited that at your wedding you’ll be able to tell all your guests about today.

november 2019

it had been around a year since pedri, as they now called him, left the island in pursuit of a football career. it had also been six months since you gave up on the relationship you had hoped to have with him and it had been approximately three weeks since you had started seeing xabi. something you would’ve only thought would happen if pedri had stopped existing. fer told you to be more optimistic about xabi and that he actually liked you because he would’ve never pranked called the local pizzeria and sent forty pizzas to your house.

the three of you were currently gathered at the beach alongside some of pedri’s friends patiently waiting for him. fer had told you that he would be staying for a week before going back to preseason with las palmas. being the kind person you were you had organized a welcome back party for him with the help of fer. you’d paid for the food, drinks, and the cake that would be delivered later that night.

fer watched you carefully decorate one of the wooden tables with all the snacks and drinks. it was so obvious you still cared about his brother and it somehow made him mad that his brother never reciprocated your feelings. even though pedri didn’t owe it to you to feel the same way it just made him mad that he had always treated you bad for no reason. you had never done anything wrong to pedri prior to his teasing so fer always wondered where his brother’s hatred for you came from.

fer doesn’t have much time to wonder about his brother because said person was already making his way towards him. he’s about to run towards him when he notices somebody else behind him, a girl. he quickly turns around to look for you but you’re too distracted with making sure everything looks nice that you don’t notice pedri or the girl with him. it’s not until everyone starts greeting him that you notice his presence. you don’t expect him to talk to you so you stay back with xabi and that’s when you notice the girl next to him.

you’re surprised at yourself for feeling jealous and hurt because you thought you had finally moved on from your stupid childhood crush. xabi’s arm wraps around your waist at the sight of pedri as if the midfielder’s presence threatened him. you turn around facing the beach not wanting to see pedri and his girlfriend, you assumed that’s who she was. you’re too entranced by the waves to see the look he sends your way and more specifically the way he glared at xabi’s arm around your waist.

who did he think he was? just because he was named after one of the greatest spanish players of all time he was some hotshot? pedri mentally scoffs at the fact that his old teammate had finally been able to ask you out. he had practically drooled over year since the first time you showed up to his games. he grabs alba’s hand in spite. alba was just his friend but felt the urge to rub her in front of your face. he didn’t know why he felt so mad at seeing you with xabi or why he was also upset that you weren’t looking at him in admiration anymore.

“xabi! it’s been so long.” he greets your boyfriend.

you can smell his cologne, the one fer had bought for him last minute when he had visited his younger brother in las palmas. it was intoxicating. you finally turn around to face him and it’s like primary school all over again. you mentally slap yourself for still feeling flustered around him especially after all the damage he’d done to you. the girl he brought offers you a smile and you can only giver her a weak one back not knowing how to feel. xabi treated you so well yet he wasn’t pedri.

as soon as he’s done speaking with your boyfriend he walks away as expected. you don’t feel embarrassed nor angry anymore but rather relieved you don’t have to face the feelings you thought you didn’t have anymore. you took a step back fixing your skirt and making sure your appearance was okay. xabi notices how you fidget. he always does. he notices the smallest things and you hate that you can’t reciprocate how he feels to the max.

“he’s an asshole.” he whispers making sure the two of you are the only ones who hear.

“xabi, come on.” you whine not wanting anything to break out tonight.

“what? it’s true! he’s treated you like shit since we were kids and he still does it now. he didn’t even say hi to you when you planned this whole thing.” your boyfriend claims.

he’s right but you’d never stop making up excuses for the man you’d probably love for the rest of your life.

“i mean i did annoy him every single day of his life until he left. he doesn’t owe me anything.” you replied.

“yeah, you were like 10 with a little girl crush on him so it doesn’t give him the right to act like that. he should just tell you that he doesn’t like you and leave it at that. he probably doesn’t even know that you help out doña rosy at the restaurant, or that you helped fer with his exams, or that you had convinced the principal to not take away his recess time to play football! it’s not fair to you!” xabi exclaims.

“you’re right but i just don’t want to fight him. not today. so promise me you won’t start anything?” you beg him.

he scoffs but then offers you a weak smile himself.

“yeah, okay but if he pulls some messed up shit tonight i can’t promise i won’t beat him up.” you both laugh at his words.

the two of you are unaware that you’re being watched by said asshole and that he’s gripping his cup to the point that the sofa starts dripping out of it. he starts looking for his brother leaving alba alone. in fact he completely forgets about alba when he can only notice how infatuated you are by xabi. what did xabi have that he didn’t? besides compassion and kindness since pedri clearly had the looks.

“when did they start dating?” is the first thing he asks his brother.

“wow, not even a i missed you or how have you been?” his brother scoffs.

“i missed you so much.” pedri pretends to care. “now answer my question.”

“why does it matter? you hate her?” fer continues to pour himself a drink oblivious to the fact that his younger brother is completely losing it.

“so? doesn’t mean i can’t ask about her?” pedri scoffs. “plus, look at him he’s such a loser. she could do better i guess.”

“better like who? you? please, don’t make me laugh. you’ve treated her like shit your entire life just because you knew how madly in love she is with you and now you’re interested? now, that’s she moved on with someone who cares about her? she is doing better. now go attend the guest you brought. it’s bad manners to leave her alone.” fer taunts his younger brother.

“fuck you.” pedri was always determined on having the last word.

on the way back towards alba an idea forms in his mind. it doesn’t take long for him to get everyone together. he brings an empty bottle and places it in the middle of the circle everyone had formed. the midfielder had decided to play spin the bottle with his old friends.

“so, here are the rules!” he speaks up. “when it’s your turn you spin the bottle and you get to ask them truth or dare. but if you ask a stupid question for truth i’ll skip your turn. now, who wants to go first?”

the game starts out light and fun but as the game goes on it becomes more intense and interesting. fer had somehow ended up skinny dipping with the girl next to him and an old friend of yours had confessed that she was the one who gave your old principal food poisoning with the cupcakes she had made. before you know it, it’s pedri’s turn. you stare at the bottle intently hoping it doesn’t land on you but as if the universe heard you it lands on you. the smirk he has on his face reminds you of the one who always had when he was about to do something to you.

“truth or dare?” he asks.

“truth.” you decided to go for the lighter option.

“is it true that you lost your virginity to xabi?” his first question takes you by surprise.

“what the fuck pedri?” xabi yells at him.

“shut up xabi and let her answer.” pedri glares at him.

“i don’t understand why that’s any of your concern-” you start.

“just answer the question and we’ll move on.” he urges.

“no.” you reply simply wanting to get this over with and go home.

fer is about to spin the bottle before pedri stops him. he looks back at you with a sly grin. your stomach churns and you start getting a bad feeling.

“wait, i’m not done. is it also true that you’ve had a crush on me since you were five and thought we would end up together even though i find you repulsive?” pedri started ranting.

you feel everyone’s eyes on you and soon you feel your eyes brim with tears. you don’t know why he’s suddenly putting you on the spot when you hadn’t spoken to him in a year. you’d thought he would’ve left you alone now that you were with xabi.

“well, don’t be shy now. come on? do you think about me when xabi kisses you or touc-” you don’t let him finish because you slap him, hard.

“maybe i was a pathetic little girl then who had no self respect but i do now so don’t ever talk to me like that again. i don’t care if you’re a future football star or the future prince of spain you have no right to speak to me like that. go to hell pedro.” you pick up your things getting ready to leave.

you take out thirty euros and hand them to fer.

“for the cake delivery. he should be here at 9.” is the last thing you say before you walk away with xabi closely following behind.

“what the fuck is your problem? did you just come back here to say all that bullshit to her?” fer confronts his younger brother.

“she shouldn’t have been here in the first place. she’s like a parasite.” pedri scoffs.

“without her i wouldn’t have planned this! she paid for everything and spent the whole day decorating this for you! she helps mom and dad out at the restaurant now that we get tourists there almost everyday. she helped me pass my exams and most importantly all those gifts i gave you when i visited where picked out by her. so, go to hell. i don’t wanna see you for the rest of the night so go home.” fer let’s him know.

pedri stands there in shock not knowing what to say. suddenly he feels horrible but he doesn’t want everyone else to notice so he picks up his shoulders ready to go home.

“oh and stay away from her. she finally found someone who cares about her and i don’t need your jealousy ruining that. xabi is going to play for girona next year and he’ll take care of her. i don’t need you fucking up anything else.” is the last thing his brother tells him.

you wake up to loud knocks on your door. you notice xabi isn’t next to you anymore meaning he’d probably left for training already. you yawn before slowly making your way towards the door. you don’t even check before opening the door something you regret when you see who’s on the other side. it’s pedri but now he’s rocking a black eye.

“your boyfriend paid me a visit last night.” is the first thing he says to you.

“shame.” you reply.

“huh?” he questions

“shame he didn’t get the other one as well.” you cross your arms.

“okay, i deserve that.”

“look pedri you have five minutes to tell me why you’re here before i call your parents and tell them you’re harassing me.” you say.

“i came to apologize. i was out of line last night and i fucked up. in truth i think i realized that i was jealo-”

“don’t pedri. you’ve had twelve years to tell me that you liked me or had a crush on me and instead you spent every single one of those humiliating me. maybe i was annoying but i have never disrespected you. now, leave. i’m happy with xabi and you’re not going to ruin that.” you interrupt him.

“but-”

“leave. we were never meant to happen. xabi is my person and i hope you find yours. hopefully someone nice and not full of hatred like you.” you slammed the door closed in front of him.

that day you call in sick for work and the day after that and so on until you heard news that pedri had gone back. his parents didn’t even question your absence after fer had told them what happened. you cried the first two days and then spent the next few days with xabi. in the span of those days he had asked you to move with him to girona and you didn’t even hesitate before accepting. maybe if you moved you’d loose all memories of the brown eyed boy you had once worshipped.

present day

the adjustment to barcelona wasn’t hard. the few years you were in girona were enough to learn catalan easily so you could communicate with almost anyone. the only problem was getting used to your new job at fc barcelona as a physical therapist. most of the players at girona barely stopped by opting to have surgery and recovering with their own staff. but at barça it was different, you were always busy with injured players as well as recovering players.

xabi and you had parted ways roughly six months ago when he transferred to roma. you couldn’t make the move not wanting to be too far from your home and you were surprised that he understood and took it likely. it was a rough breakup but not because he treated you bad or anything but because he had cared so much and now you felt alone. like you were missing your best friend.

you had stopped keeping up with pedri so you had no idea where he was now and had even stopped talking to fer to which he understood why. he wasn’t mad but he was upset that your friendship had failed because of his asshole brother. alas you shake your thoughts away when a knock on your office door interrupts you.

“come in!” you pick up the file that had been dropped off earlier about the player you’d be seeing today.

the door opens but you’re too engrossed by the files to notice who it is. you’re halfway into the summary of his injury until you notice you don’t even know who you’re treating. when you see the name up top your mind goes blank. you almost walk out the door at the sight of pedro’s name. you spend a few minutes panicking before remembering you’re being paid to be a professional so you gently get back into that mindset and set the file down.

“so the process of your recovery will include-”

“so, you’re just going to pretend that we don’t know each other?” pedri asks you.

“for the remainder of the time that i will work here? yes. now shut up and let me explain how your recovery process will go if you want to play again this season.” you scold him.

he just scoffs and shuts up.

“i assume the medical staff has already told you that you need to apply ice packs to the injured area several times a day as well as taking pain medicine?” you ask him.

“yeah.” he replies staring at the roof wanting to avoid your glare.

“okay so, as part of the healing process i’ll advise you certain gentle hamstring stretches to strengthen you and when the pain begins to subside we’ll move on to harder strengthening exercises. we’ll start working on them on tuesday. i believe that’s all so unless you have any other muscular issues or problems please let me know now.” you reply as stiffly as possible.

“are you and xabi still dating? i mean i assume you’re not or else you’d be in roma. unless you’re doing long distance but i doubt it, it never works out. he’s probably cheated on you by now.” pedri simply starts blabbering nonsense.

“don’t really understand why any of that concerns you.” you turn around to type up his file to the database.

“because you’re too good for him and quite frankly i don’t think you should be with him.” he stands near your desk.

“who should i be with? the asshole that let everyone back home know i was a virgin? don’t make me laugh pedro.” you look up at him to meet that same mischievous smirk from twelve years ago.

“i’ve changed.” he admits.

“good for you pedro. there are plenty of other people in the sea that you could go after. unfortunately for you i’m not one of them. so please be professional and leave me alone. i have to see gavi in an hour so i have to get ready for that.” you urge him to leave.

“please, gavi isn’t even in need of physical therapy he just thinks you’re cute.” pedri laughs.

“like you? at least he’s professional and doesn’t throw soup all over me when i approach him for lunch.” you give him a smile.

pedri steps back realizing how much of a bad person he had been to you. he couldn’t even remember all the things you were accusing him of. he suddenly feels bad for that night at the beach where he had humiliated you in front of everyone just because he thought you were too good for xabi. when in reality he was perfect for you.

“look i’m really sorry for what i did to you. for all of it. i’m not the same person i was at the beach four years ago. and you don’t owe me anything but i’d really like to take you out to dinner and make it up to you.” he begs.

“pedri, you constantly made me feel insecure about myself, humiliated me, made me wear a bob cut so short i might as well have gone bald, and bullied me for my whole childhood so a simple i’m sorry isn’t going to cut it. now, get out of my office please.” you point towards the door.

pedri simply sighs in defeat before making his way out of your office. but he doesn’t give up because as soon as your sessions with him start you’re met with flowers on your desk, links to random memes he finds on the internet, and invitations to all the fancy and expensive restaurants in the vicinity. although what finally makes you give in are the coldplay tickets he offers you.

“what the fuck, pedri?” you jump up at the envelope on your desk. “i can’t possibly accept these? they’re like the best seats as well? oh my god.”

“yes, you can and you will. my recovering process is going much faster than expected because of you and you always mentioned how much you loved the band growing up. please take them.” he urges you.

you don’t know what comes over but you’re suddenly that little girl trying to cross the street and you grab him by the cheeks. you kiss him without a second thought but this time he kisses you back. it’s a short but meaningful kiss.

“i should buy you coldplay tickets more often, huh?” he teases you.

“oh, shut up.” you blush.

he slowly creeps up next to you and wraps his arms around you before removing a strand of hair from your ear.

“in five years when we get married i’ll tell our guests about this.” he whispers into your ears.

a sudden rush of heat is felt near your cheeks and you can’t believe that six year old girl inside of you has won. you stare in awe at the midfielder, not the one you hate and despise but the one you’ve learned to love. the one who will cherish you for the rest of his life. he kisses you with so much fervor and passion you forget to breathe. his hatred for you the hatred that had never existed is now replaced by adoration and love. and you smile once again at the thought of telling this lifelong story to your wedding guests.

#pedri imagine #pedri x reader #pedri fic #pedri fanfic #football imagine #football fic #football fanfic #ash writes

[sports-on-sundays]

omgg i'm so relievedd,😭😭 anyway here's the request

can you please do an enemies to lovers with pedri wherein the reader is frenkie's sister and pedri and her have beef with eachother and fight like cats and dogs all the time but pedri is lowkey in love with her and sneakily keeps dropping hints but the reader is too oblivious to notice them, then gavi, sick of their banter tries to get them together by pretending to be interested in the reader and pedri get's furious with gavi cuz he's in love with the reader?

anyway i hope you're doing well, sending you lot's and lot's of lovee 💗💗

she's mine / Pedri González

Summary: Pedri x de Jong!female!reader - Enemies to lovers - Pedri can't help but feel more than hate towards his enemy. And he won't stand for it when it seems her attention is being given to anyone else but himself.

Warnings: censored swearing, reader is SO oblivious haha, I'M SO SORRY FOR THE CHEESY ENDING BUT IT FELT SO RIGHT OKAY, her being Frenkie's sister didn't end up becoming a part of the plot so sorry if you wanted it to be anon

Author's Note: Thanks so much for the request, and I hope you're doing well also. :)

Requested?: yup!

A gust of warm wind blows your hair in your face as you enter the Barcelona training pitch. You tuck it behind your ear as your eyes scan the green field, searching for someone.

You tell yourself you're looking for your brother, Frenkie, but your eyes only stop searching when they fall on Pedri. He's sitting on one of the coolers, talking with Robert Lewandowski and Sergi Roberto. You smirk and saunter over, slipping down to sit on the cooler next to him. "Hey. Why aren't you out there playing, Pedri?" you say with a condescending smile.

His head snaps over to look at you, and his jaw visibly clenches as he demands, "Where did you come from? You weren't there a second a-"

"Maybe you just weren't paying attention, idiot. I didn't know you were that unaware of your surroundings..."

"Would you stop?" he snarls, gently shoving you. "Why are you always here, anyway? Do you think you have rights to walk right on in just because you're Frenkie's sister?"

You shrug cockily. "Pretty much. Everyone loves me, including Xavi. You're the only idiot that doesn't."

At this, Sergi (mysteriously) gets up and says, "I'll leave you two to fight this one out."

Robert nods and follows close behind, calling over his shoulder, "Don't be too aggressive with each other now!" You hear a snicker in the more experienced player's voice, which only fuels you more to bug Pedri.

"You aren't being too aggressive," you turn back to Pedri. "What kind of weak shove was that, anyway?"

"I just didn't shove you any harder because you're delicate and weak." He glanced up, meeting your eyes as he added, "Shame you've got no boyfriend to take care of your damsel self."

"Oh, for f***'s sake! Shut up- you know you're pulling crap out of thin air now!"

"That's what you do every single argument we have," Pedri comments with an eye roll. He bends down to tie his shoe, but then looks up, meeting your eyes again in that annoying way, and says, "Wait, you have a boyfriend?!"

"Don't say it like that!" you snap. "I don't, but I don't need one. I'm just fine without a stupid man to boss me around!"

He snorts and comments softly as he stands up, "I wouldn't say I'm stupid, and I certainly wouldn't boss you around..."

"Huph! Yeah, right!" you snap, the intention of his statements blowing straight over your head. "I bet you'd be the worst of them all! My God, no woman deserves an ass like you! Sure hope you never get a girlfriend- any would be too good for you."

"So sharp with your comebacks!" Pedri looks back. "But you use the same ones every time. You're so predictab-"

"Hey, Pedri."

Both of you look up to see Gavi sauntering over to the two of you. He pulls a water bottle from the cooler Pedri just stood up from and tells him, "Quit all the chit-chatting, for God's sake. Break time is done for you, Pedri."

"Yeah!" you grin, calling after him as he sulks away, "Lazy!"

Some days later, you walk down the hallway of the training centre. You're waiting for Frenkie, since you're going with him to visit with him and Mikky and some friends after training, when suddenly your nerves are hit simply by a familiar voice calling behind you, "Hey, Y/n..."

You swivel around to meet the obnoxious brown eyes of none other than Pedri. Your jaw clenches, but you're always ready to pick a fight with him- especially if he's up for it.

There's a flash of emotion in his eyes, and all the sudden he goes from walking toward you to being right in front of you. Your back hits the wall it's facing, and you gasp as the scent of his cologne fills your nose. You open your eyes slowly to see only Pedri's eyes. You exhale slowly. He's got you here, with his hands leaning on the wall behind you. You can't read him- you can't tell if he's about to slap you in the face or playfully tease you. All you know is that your nose is about six centimeters from the face of your rival, whom you've hated on a countless number of times.

"What the hell?" you snap. "What's your problem?"

"You know what you did!" he snaps right back, his eyes flashing again.

"What did I do?" you ask innocently as you replay all the rude comments about him and obnoxious tricks played on him.

"You know!" he says, jabbing his elbow into your shoulder- not enough to hurt, so you don't bother with him. He's a coward. He never really hurts you.

You smirk, eyebrows raised, and say, "Was it the chewing gum in your football boot or the 'Kick Me' sign on you last away game?"

"It was the gum-! Wait, 'Kick Me' sign?!"

At this, you break into hysterical laughing at his frightened face. You laugh and laugh, until you finally get out, "You take yourself so seriously, and that's why I know stupid pranks like this really will work in getting under your skin!"

"Tell about the 'Kick Me' sign!" He actually looks quite nervous.

"I managed to give you a 'friendly' pat on the back before you walked the red carpet to the hotel. All the away fans saw. I guess after getting a high-five from their hero, Pedri, they saw he would've rather been kicked in the ass!"

"Wait, it was on my ass?" His eyes widen, and you laugh more, practically wheezing now as Mr. Tough Man is getting dethroned- again. By you, as always.

"No! Lower back, idiot. I guess someone must have taken if off of you before you noticed, and didn't tell you because your pride is so delicate..."

"...Is not!" Pedri snapped, shoving you softly again. "Anyway, the f***ing gum on my expens-"

But you interrupt, showing you really couldn't care less. "Why don't you shove me harder, huh? Weak."

His face twists. "If I did, you might fall over. Clumsy."

"Oh, yeah? Am I? Am I clumsy, or are you just too scared to hurt a woman? Well, I'm not too scared to hurt a man, and I'm also not slamming men into walls to assert my dominance!"

Pedri gapes a little, which feeds your mean-spirited ways.

You grin, and suddenly shove him away. He stumbles back, and reaches back to steady himself on the opposite wall of the hallway.

"Alright, I've f***ing had it with you!" he barks, reaching for you. But you grab his wrist, twisting it. He, with his other hand, clutches the collar of your shirt, and you raise your fist, about to hurl it at his-

Suddenly, another hand grips your wrist, mid air.

Both your's and Pedri's heads flip to the new presence and rest your eyes on the younger Gavi.

Pedri's hand slips off your collar in unison with your hand slipping off his wrist.

Gavi sighs and walks past, in the middle of the two of you, calling behind, "You two, always fighting like cats and dogs! Won't you ever leave each other be? It's starting to get out of hand, with you two wrestling in the halls, and all."

You watch awkwardly as Gavi walks away, both feeling called out at how foolish you were acting.

You sit next to Gavi, swiveling back and forth on a bar stool, in a club. You sip your drink, looking down, because of the slight headache you're starting to obtain from the flashing lights around you, when suddenly someone sits on the other side of you. You look up, seeing that it's none other than Pedri. Again. Now you sit between Gavi and Pedri, and ask obnoxiously to Pedri, "Why are you here?"

He smirks, his eyes glimmering in the flashing lights. "I was here all along. But I could be asking you the same thing, baby."

You snort as Gavi looks over with unimpressed raised eyebrows at Pedri.. "Baby? Your insults are getting worse and worse every day," you remark back snidely, taking the name in a completely different way than most people- including Gavi- probably would.

Who knows how Pedri meant it?

Pedri falters for just a moment, and a strange look of slight confusion and maybe... disappointment?... flashes across his face, before he blinks away the dazed look and replaces it with that stupid smirk again. "You're a stupid baby because I don't think you can handle..." He gently takes your glass from your hand, and it's so sudden, you just watch him do it. "...that."

You glare. "What the hell, Pedri?" you snap. "I'm not anywhere near drunk! Give that back!"

He lifts the quarter full glass above his head, but leans his face close to yours and mutters, just loud enough for you to hear over the blasting party music, "Make me."

You glare more fiercely and snarl, "You know full well I'm capable of beating your ass! Now give me the glass!"

His grin just grows wider, and it annoys you that, for whatever twisted reasons, he's genuinely having fun. Enjoying himself. When you tease him or play pranks on him, you guess you have some fun, but it's mostly just about going out of your way to make his life harder because he's annoying. But he's genuinely having fun right now. Anyone could see that much.

The nerve!

You grab at Pedri, trying to wrestle the drink down, but fail, and just end up stumbling into him. He laughs and very gently elbows you, saying, "Be careful, baby. You've got no prince to catch you if you fall..."

"I don't even get your jokes anymore!" You say in frustrated annoyance. You grit your teeth and double back, ready to ram yourself to his stomach, but suddenly stop yourself when two hands grip your shoulders, and a body slips in between your's and Pedri's. "Gavi!" you say in exasperation. "Stop doing that!"

"You guys stop doing this! These arguments are getting out of hand, for God's sake!"

Pedri sighs, setting your glass down, but says, "It's really none of your business, Gav-"

"It is when you constantly do this with me and every-f***ing-one else around! It becomes our business!" He sighs witha little grunt, sitting back down. You swipe your drink off the table and sit back down next to Gavi, saying, "I'm sorry, Gavi... You see, Pedri's just so stupid..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Gavi rolls his eyes.

And little to either Pedri or you know, but the gears in Gavi's brain start spinning.

You sit on the bleachers, typing something up, enjoying the sunshine, when you hear footsteps. You sigh, knowing it will be Pedri approaching, but refuse to look up.

So you're surprised when Gavi says, "Hey, Y/n."

You look up and watch as Gavi sits close next to you, putting his arm around your shoulders. You don't think much of this, and don't mind that Gavi sits with you for a while, just chatting about whatever. He speaks softly, making the conversation personal. You respond in your regular tones, because why would you do anything different?

For weeks after this incident, Gavi keeps doing things like this, and, strangely, you've realized Pedri's been bothering you less. And you've been bothering him less.

But he keeps sending you the most venomous glances, it's almost worse than his occasional antagonizing.

Gavi's been getting kind of touchy with you, and you're not sure why, but you assume it's just because... you don't know. But you figure there must be a good, normal reason for it.

So you don't mind it. You enjoy your talks.

Today, you sit on the grass next to Gavi. You can't tell if it's just in your head, but you keep catching Pedri's eyes. And he doesn't look happy.

Well, Gavi's sitting quite close to you, so your shoulders are bumping, and has an arm around you, gently touching your lower back. You watch as Pedri starts walking towards you, and automatically a soft sigh escapes your lips.

Right then, Gavi gently slips his hand onto your thigh.

Automatically, your muscles clench, but you don't even look at Gavi.

Because you're watching Pedri.

He looks livid.

You swallow, and glance to Gavi, but as soon as you do, Pedri reaches him, knocks his hand off your thigh, doesn't even glance to you, and says directly to Gavi, "Come with me."

His tone is hard and cold.

Gavi stands up a little too casually (which seems to just feed Pedri's anger even more) and follows Pedri without a fight.

You stare, watching them go, in kind of a shock.

Once they're gone, you give it a minute or so, before standing up and immediately following. Snooping and eavesdropping are not below you. Can't hurt a girl for being curious, right? Besides, you've become pretty good at not getting caught.

You slowly walk down the stairs into the building, light on your feet, and peek behind every corner, listen through every door.

Finally you freeze when you hear voices, coming from behind a closed door. You lean against the wall slowly, intently listening, and grin softly when you can make out the sentences, before your face becomes serious again.

Gavi is saying, "...you've been the nicest person to her anyway!"

Pedri growls (which makes you swallow nervously), "But it's like you're taking her... She doesn't even like you... I saw the look on her face... Get your hands off of her, anyway... She's mine."

Your eyes furrow in confusion. Clearly he's talking about you, but what does this all mean...? Whatever it does, it certainly makes you feel a little angry, along with the utter uncertainty.

"Yeah? Why haven't you gone for it, then? Shoot your shot? You've just been being rude to her to get her attention without even showing how you really feel- I went about it in the-"

"She doesn't like you!"

"Yeah? Prove it?" Gavi says, just as fiery as Pedri himself, but it sounds a little different. You can't place your finger on what's different about Gavi's tone, though, from Pedri's...

There's a few seconds of silence, before a huff and a smaller comment from Pedri: "But I bet I like her more than you."

"Then prove it. I don't believe you."

"How the hell-"

"Whoever pulls her first."

You stare ahead, eyebrows knitted together.

And suddenly it clicks in your brain that was so opposed to believing anything even close to that, and it all makes sense.

All the stupid comments from him.

This conversation itself.

His dumb nicknames.

Has Pedri really... felt that way... all along?

Then why has he been acting like that?

There's silence between the boys, too, as you consider these things.

And, suddenly, you hear the doorknob turn, and your stomach drops to your knees. You try to swallow down a lump in your throat, looking for anywhere you can go to hide so that they don't see y-

"Y/n-!" Pedri stares at you, frozen.

Oh God. What... What is he going to do? Pick a fight, walk away? Lash out on me or Gavi? Pretend nothing happened?

He whispers, "You heard all that..."

You don't respond. And you're not sure if you could, even if you tried to, anyway.

But he does the most unlikely thing. The thing you weren't ever expecting.

Maybe someone else would. Maybe your brain just doesn't work that way.

But suddenly he pulls you to him, in a half-hug kind of thing, his muscles soft, and whispers, "I'm sorry, but... Maybe this will convince you to give me a shot..."

Suddenly, before you can react, he pulls you into a steamy kiss. You gasp, shocked, and although you don't want it to be happening, you don't want it to stop. You stare ahead, but slowly find the strength to close your eyes.

He pulls away and mutters, "Anyway, let me explain now..."

But suddenly Gavi walks by, casually, a smug look on his face, and he says, "I would have done it differently, but with someone like Y/n, you never know, Pedri... I mean it's funny you two are so immature about the way you're going about this, when I'm younger than both of you."

"You-"

Gavi glances back and interrupts, "Oh, and by the way, it was all a show. I'm not really into Y/n, and I know she's not really into me. It was just to make you jealous. You know, so maybe you'd finally admit your damn feelings and quit bothering her so much. Looks like you still haven't done it though. I've leave you two to that."

Pedri starts gaping as Gavi saunters away, and you stand just as shocked, but for more things than what Pedri's shocked about.

"For God's sake, Gavi," Pedri mutters under his breath, turning back to you. "Well, anyway," he breathes. "I've got a lot to explain... And say sorry for."

"Why were you..." you trail off.

He snorts. "I thought you'd be into that. I thought you'd like that sort of attention."

"I might've..." you chuckle nervously. "If I understood what you were doing in the moment..."

All the sudden, those glimmering brown eyes look deeper than they did before. More complex. Interesting. Beautiful.

Captivating.

Perhaps even... enchanting?

You swallow, and find yourself gripping to his shoulders tighter- which you didn't even know you were holding onto until now.

Now he mutters, but it doesn't seem mean.

You would say it was sexy, if that didn't mean you'd be calling him sexy.

"I've got a lot of work before I can call you mine..." he swallows. Usually a comment like this would disgust you.

But the way he just kissed you makes you not dread, but anticipate (just very, very, very slightly) eagerly all that work he needs to do in order to call you his.

Well, in other words, that set off butterflies in your stomach you didn't even know existed.

And now he whispers, "Sorry if it's too soon, but... Can I kiss you again?"

You grin stupidly and remark, "Only if you're not a coward."

He leans in, and his lips meet yours once again.

#pedri #pedri oneshot #pedri one shot #pedri imagine #pedri imagines #pedri fanfiction #pedri fan fic #pedri fic #pedri fan fiction #pedri fanfic #pedri x reader #pedri x female!reader #pedri x female reader #pedri x y/n #pedri x you #pedri gonzalez #pedro gonzalez lopez #pedro gonzález lópez #pedro gonzález #pedrito #fcb #fcbarcelona #fc barcelona #fc barca #fc barça #barcelona #barca #barça #barcelona one shot #barcelona imagine

[mywrittengartgallery]

PEDRI - Toute première fois

Words : 1,4k 

Warning : Fluff / mature theme

Summary : You were ready to reach a new step in your relationship with Pedri

☁️ 

“Why do you have so many hoodies anyway ?” you asked as you threw yourself on Pedri’s bed, taking his pillow from under him. A whine escaped him before he grabbed it back.

“Maybe because you keep stealing them?” he said with a sarcastic tone. You only laughed at that. 

“I do that because you have too many, I’m actually doing you a favor!” Pedri could only roll his eyes at that and went back to his phone, probably scrolling on instagram or twitter. You hoped it was the first one because the blue app could be quite harsh on people, especially on football players. You would hate it if he were to read mean things from people who wouldn’t be able to do a quarter of what he does. However your worries were pushed aside when you saw him showing you his phone: he was on instagram, enjoying cute videos of small puppies and was apparently delighted with this one where the small white ball of fur was scared of its own reflection. His eyes formed their usual creases on the side, the ones that would appear when he smiled, and a soft laugh could be heard. Why was he so adorable? You mirrored his grin and got closer. 

His eyes were fixated on you, taking in every ounce of your face. He was intense, his gaze was intense, his entire personality was intense and that made you feel weird. Not in a bad way, but still, you never knew what to do apart from blushing, which was exactly what was beginning to happen. So, while avoiding any eye contact, you pulled your hood, well his hood, up and hid your cheeks in the soft fabric. 

“Don’t do that.” he whispered while trying to remove the hood. Yet, you tried to resist, holding it tight with both of your hands. The small game lasted for about twenty seconds before he gave up and resumed his previous activity: looking at you with his intense gaze which was so destabilizing. 

“I forgive you though” he said, twisting the white strap of your hoodie around his finger. You finally met his eyes, a confused look on your face. “For stealing them... You look pretty cute in them.” And it was back, the hot red hue on your cheeks and probably at the tip of your ears. It was not the biggest compliment you’ve had ever received, especially from him, and it was one that could be pretty common in your relationship, but tonight, it wasn’t the same. This one was pure, directly taken out of his heart and you could feel it, from the way his gaze had softened when the words had left his mouth and the way he had brought his head closer to yours. This boy, he had you wrapped around his finger. That’s why you kissed him: a soft peck that didn’t last, practically shy, but meaningful. 

However, the young athlete had other plans. He delicately placed his hand on your face, cupping your cheek while he initiated another kiss. This one was a little deeper, overflowed with tenderness and a warmth that would heat up the current winter weather. A small grin appeared on your lips as you let yourself being guided in it. Seconds passed and your bodies were now pressed together, your hand sliding under his T-shirt, finding some sort of grounding against his soft skin. You couldn’t resist the urge to make your fingers dance against his side: you were using your finger tips, grazing them, your touch feather like. A shiver ran down his spine as you felt him laugh in the kiss. He broke the loving gesture to look at you, his eyes sparkling, weirdly again and you felt a a type of good nervousness forming in your stomach. It was something different than the butterflies he was used to give you. No, it was denser, fuller and expectant this time. You couldn’t think about it, and even though some sort of ideas had crossed your mind, you weren’t able to really dig into them because Pedri nuzzled your nose, trying to catch your attention.  You looked up, awaiting. 

“Y/N...” he sighed. You nodded, the atmosphere had shifted. “I know that, well, that...” he gulped as if it helped easing his nerves, which only added to your own. “Well, I’m your first real boyfriend.” again, you nodded. It was true, you had had flirts before, in high school, even at the beginning of university, mostly from parties, and most of them weren’t serious or you would only find yourself disappointed. The only time it had been bound to lead to something meaningful, the pandemic happened, forcing you into confinements and it’s like the guy had disappeared. Then, the crisis had went on and blocked all of your chances to find love. Until Pedri. And Pedri, he was nothing like the guys you had met before. 

“I want to keep your pace, I mean... I care, I just-” he was stuttering like crazy so you did what you thought was the right thing to do; you interrupted him.

“I’m ready, Pedri. I think.” 

“Are you sure ?” his voice was soft, and that made you melt because this boy was everything you could have asked for. You had placed all your trust on him and more. So if anything, he was the perfect person to be with during your life changing events. 

“Yes Pedro!” you stated confidently. “I am.”

“I can wait...” he murmured but you placed a simple peck on his lips. 

“I know.” you mimicked him by murmuring close to his ear. “I know because you’ve waited for months, for me.” another soft peck was pressed against his lips. “I’ve never felt pressured, or rushed or like I was not enough.” you got closer. “I know you can wait, but I’m not sure I want it...” you finally said, avoiding his eyes as a deep red colored your cheeks. 

He nodded, and that’s all it took for you to kiss him passionately, giving your soul into the moment. It began with a simple make out session, you knew how to handle that, what it was like. You had had many of them with Pedri, many where you even had the entire lead, so you exactly knew what to do. However, after some times, Pedri gently took the lead as he toppled you on your back, a hand behind your neck. And the work began: he slowly undressed you, taking the time to admire you, moving tenderly and taking steps after steps while making sure you were okay with everything. 

“You can tell me if you want to stop, alright ? Anytime.” he said seriously, meeting your gaze with such fondness. You could cry with the amount of love you felt. So you lightly nodded and brought your hands around his neck, mixing your breath with his. 

It hurt, it sure did, but it wasn’t entirely bad. Actually, there wasn’t just pain, there were other sensations that were new to you. The feeling of his feverish skin against yours, the goosebumps that would electrify your body, his muscles flexing under your hands, the soft pantings. It was so intimate, just between him and you. And, even though you couldn’t a hundred percent relax, you still enjoyed it. 

A shy wave of pleasure washed through you as Pedri was trying not to go too fast, not wanting to make it uncomfortable for you: you were oversensitive now. Not long after, he finally finished and dropped on top of you, sighing near your ear. You were drained, but still found it in you to wrap your armes around him, pressing your nose in his hair, taking in the soft scent of his shampoo. He hummed in contentment, his eyes closing. You looked around the room: your clothes had been dumped at the foot of his bed in a messy lump, and that made you blush. A picture of the two of you laughing was sticked on the wall, just above his desk, next to all the pink post-its you would leave in his room to tell him you loved him. Then your eyes went to the window, it was night and the streetlights reflected on the glass of the window but something caught your attention. Small white drops were slowly falling and you couldn’t believe it.

“Pedri!” you said excitedly. He hummed and you smiled calming yourself, that was the effect he had on you. “It snows” and he propped his head on your chest, checking his window. You could see his dark orbs sparkling, you loved it.

“It’s not near as beautiful as you” and you laughed, this man was crazy. 

☁️ 

I hope you liked it! English isn’t my first language so I hope I didn’t make too many mistakes!

Don’t be shy and tell me what you thought of it. 

PS: This was obviously protected sex, and IT IS REALLY IMPORTANT!! Kids, make sure to go out fully covered!

#pedri #pedri imagine #pedri fic #barca #fcb #la liga #spanish nt #gavi #football fanfic #scenarios #fluff #football imagines #pedro gonzalez #barcelona

[joaosluvvth]

Incoherent with Pedri I

Non-sense chats of pedri and his gf

#pedri x reader #pedri x you #pedri x y/n #football #pedri gonzalez x reader #pedri gonzalez #pedri gonzalez x you #pedri fic #pedri fanfic #futbol #soccer #pedri gonzalez x y/n

[spidybaby]

Not the romantic type

Summary: You tried to give him as many chances as you could. But when he keeps choosing other people over you, you are done.

Warnings: asshole!Pedri, cursing, manipulation, gaslight, suggestive moments.

Part two

Since the beginning of your relationship, you noticed that Pedri wasn't the romantic type of boyfriend.

When it comes to planning things or saying things to you, he was very basic.

You remember your first anniversary, he invited you to dinner at his house and you watched a movie.

You appreciate everything. He was very caring. He loved you. He was just not the type to throw out his feelings at you or show them every time.

But you can't lie, that did bother you sometimes.

The memory of you telling him excited about a goal becoming a reality to you, you expected more than just a kiss and a congratulations.

Maybe not a party, maybe nothing crazy, just a little more.

Comparison wasn't also a good thing. The pictures of your friends with their boyfriends on trips, cute picnics, date nights.

You wanted that.

"Hey, I was thinking that now that you have the next two days. We can plan something romantic, maybe?"

He lifts his eyes from his phone. Your shiny eyes are the first thing he sees. Then back to the phone again.

"Olvidé decirte, my parents are coming, and I planned this restaurant thing with Fer and them."

He planned.

"Oh, you did?" You ask. "What about if we go to the movies, it's early and there's this movie I've been dying to see."

"I mean if you want that, let me get my keys and we can go." He says, getting up from the couch and walking to you. "Te quiero"

You smile, you love him very much. Kissing his lips quickly and picking your things while he walked upstairs.

You run quickly to the bathroom, not wanting to miss the movie. While you're there, you check your hair and makeup.

"Preciosa, le dije a Fer, irá con nosotros." He yells while walking downstairs. You force a smile.

"I heard Henry Cavill was on the cast, I'm in." Fer jokes, opening the door for you. "And maybe that Dualipa was also in the cast."

You smile at him, not feeling like joking back. When you sat in the back and didn't even play any music, Fer notice that something was wrong.

"You okay?" Fer asked, the two of you are waiting for Pedri. You nod, not wanting to say anything.

When Pedri was out of his car, you offered your hand to him. He high five you, letting your hand go. You squint your eyes.

"I was thinking." You say as you see the movie display. "I want to see Anyone but you." You smile.

"What about Aquaman? I like aquaman," He says, also looking at the display. "And maybe Fer won't like that movie you want to see."

"Well, I already see Aquaman. And I've been wanting to see this movie for about three weeks now."

He turns to where Fer is. He was buying the popcorn and soda. "He won't like that, amor."

"It's Sydney Sweeney. He will be too busy looking at her boobs instead of the movie itself."

You were tired. This was supposed to be a couple's thing and not a bring your brother with you kind of thing.

"Let's do this. What if you see the movie and Fer and I see Aquaman." He offers.

You want to smack him with your purse. Did he really think this was a good idea?

"Why can Fer see the movie alone, and you see this one with me?" You lower your tone, trying to show him your discomfort.

The thinking was getting to you. Why did he have to think between watching a movie with you or without you?

"Bebé, you know I've been waiting for you to have time to come with me to this movie."

"I just don't want Fernando to see a movie alone."

"Oh, but I have to?"

He sighs. Not wanting to start a fight. "No. Let's watch Anyone but you." He kisses your hand and walks to the front to buy the tickets.

You can even say that you're happy. You don't want to fight or beg for him to do something with you.

You were in the middle of Fer and him. The conversation between them was easy. You feel like it's been a while since you had such an easy conversation with him.

The sour aftertaste of the small argument made you uncomfortable.

"I'm going to get an ICEE drink. I'll be back." You say, getting up, feeling like you can finally breathe.

You don't like feeling this way. You don't like the guilt that builds inside of you every time you feel jealous about him planning something for everyone else but you.

You waited for your drink, checking instagram to distract yourself. The first picture you see is your friend and her boyfriend cooking together.

You don't feel well about it.

You don't want to be the second option.

You want to be the person he plans outings with.

You want him to be as interested in your life as you're in his.

You understand, he's a footballer, he doesn't have time to do all these dates, and plans.

But he does.

He has time for Ferran and Gavi, and he has time for his teammates' parties and celebrations.

He just didn't have time for you.

"Just in time, the movie is about to start." Pedri lift the arm thing on the seat and pass his arm around your shoulders. "My love." He kisses your cheeks.

You can't help the sadness inside. With so little you're so ready to forgive the things that make you feel bad.

"Love you." You kiss his lips.

You love the way he smiles into the kiss. It makes you feel dreamy.

The movie was awesome. in the end, even Fer was happy about it and loved the unwritten song.

"But I definitely think she was the hottest of them all." Fer says, you are walking back to the car.

"That's why she's the star of the movie." You laugh at him.

Pedri was quiet. That was his new mood.

You turn your face to him. His eyes are glued to the pavement. "Pepi, did you like the movie?" You ask. He just nods, not even a single word answer. "Okay."

The drive was silent but not an uncomfortable one. Fer was playing his music, something nice.

Pedri drops Fer at their house, telling him that he was driving you home and then coming back.

You stayed at the back, you feel like joking with him. "So, Mister driver, where to now?"

He laughs, you love his laugh. "I was thinking maybe I can take you for a walk." He extended his arm to the back. "Does the beach sounds good?"

You nod excited, your hands caressing his own while he drives you to the beach.

The moon and the stars were shining so much, leaving a nice and peaceful glow on the sand.

"Oye, I mentioned that I was inviting my parents to this thing and I was wondering if you want to come." He says, pulling away from your hug.

You smile at the proposal. You wanted to spend more time with him, and his family being there was a plus since you're close to them.

You nod, hugging him back again. Your face on his neck, the smell of his perfume making you drunk in love.

"Can you wear that beautiful blue dress?" His hands are now on your ass, pulling you closer. "I love it when you wear that dress."

"The one that ended on the floor after you won LaLiga?" You mess with him, kissing his neck.

The feeling of his beard against your lips, the way his throat vibrates with every moan and sound he makes when you kiss his sensitive areas.

"Preciosa, we're at the beach." He says, pulling away from your kisses. "But we're inside your car." You say, kissing his nose. He smirks, making you sit properly on top of him.

In a quick motion, he reached the door and slammed it shut, making sure to lock the doors.

"Come here." His lips meet your lips in a very hungry kiss.

The way your tongues dance together is making the burning sensation of your body even harder to control.

His hands undo the buttons of your shirt while your lips are kissing his neck. With every kiss, you lick the place. Marking him without actually marking him.

He pulls your shirt to your elbows and kisses from your right shoulder to your neck. He can't have a visible love mark, but you do.

So he takes the time to suck onto that specific place on your neck, your hands gripping on his hair softly.

You began moving your hips slowly in circles, his groaning making you smile, knowing you're doing a good job.

"We need to stop. We're at the beach." He breathlessly says, hands on your waist, guiding the movement. His head is thrown back into the seat.

You want to feel him all the way. You crave him, but you know that if someone recognizes the car and finds you two doing that, it was going to be a big thing.

You fall on his chest. He opens his arms to you, hugging your body and caressing your back. His lips on your hair, trying to calm himself in the process. Once you're calmer, you move to your seat, legs still on his lap.

"Te prometo que voy a compensate por esto, te quiero." He says, kissing your lips and turning the car. (I promise I'm making up to you, I love you.)

The drive to your home was silent. The calm music from the radio was low but enough to make the vibe more relaxing.

One of his hands was managing the wheel, and the other one was squishing your thighs. You can't keep your eyes away from his face, he notice this, blushing a little.

When you're outside your house, you stay inside the car for a little "We're leaving at five, but mom probably wants to steal you from me a little, so what if you get ready at my place?"

You kiss his cheek, undoing your seatbelt. "Si, can you pick me up?" You wait for his answer, getting a kiss from him and a small nod.

"Te quiero." He says, kissing you again.

"You do?" You tease him. He follows you lead, nodding his head. "Won't you show me how much? I mean, you don't have to wake up early tomorrow."

He laughs, turning the car off and undoing his seatbelt. "I have to pick my parents but we can do that together." He grabs your face and places a kiss on your cheek.

🍃🍃🍃

"Dale, guacha, suelta," you sing the famous quevedo Bzrp session while you both cook something.

"Suelta," Pedri sings, doing the background voice.

"Vente pa' Canaria' sin el equipaje y sin viaje de vuelta por la isla te vo'a dar una vuelta."

"Bebé, solo avisa-" His singing got interrupted by his phone ringing and making the music stop. "Hola?"

You lower the speaker volume, knowing that as soon as he hits hang, the song will blast. "Try this." You whisper, spoon feeding him with a little mix of your food.

He gives you the thumbs up, stealing a little more with his finger. "Hey, stop." You laugh, slapping this hand away.

"No, que va, muchas felicidades y suerte en el partido de este viernes." (Nah, no problem, congratulations and good luck on this Friday's match) he laughs. You focus on the food in front of you but can't help to wonder who he's on the phone with. "Vale, adiós."

"Listo." You turn the stove off and turn to him, opening your arms for him to join you in a hug. "Bring some plates, ojitos lindos." You kiss his nose.

He does as he's told, helping you with serving the food and trying to make it look cute. "I was speaking with Aitana." He says, leaving the plate in front of you.

"The player?" You wonder, even tho you were sure it was her cause there's not many girls out there called aitana that your boyfriend knows, and that has a match to play.

"Yes, she won an award, and I forgot to congratulate her for her Ballon d'or, so I sent her some flowers."

"Oh."

You're not jealous. It's very sweet of him to support the feminine team as much as his teammates. It's just that he has those sweet gifts and congratulations for everyone except for you.

"Si, she was so happy."

You nod, smiling. You can't help the feeling of sadness washing you over. Has he ever given you flowers? No, he hasn't.

"Also, Adrian graduation is this weekend. My aunt is throwing him a party, and you, beautiful lady, are coming with me."

"That means you and I are matching colors for the party?" You ask, joking. He never liked the matching couple thing.

"Amor, that's so tacky." He shakes his head no. "Plus, you always wear vibrant colors, and I'm more of a black and white kind of dude lately. "

You just smile, knowing that he always says the same thing. "I can wear something black so you can match me with a black shirt."

"But you look amazing with vibrant colors, like that blue dress, or you beautiful orange top that you wore on my birthday."

It was no surprise to you that he always found excuses for you, even when you tried to accommodate to him.

"Okay, I just thought it would be cute."

"You would be cuter with something that is your style." He taps your nose, changing the topic quickly. "Do you want to see the last chapter of prison break with me?"

"Are you on the last? We were like half the show a few days ago."

"I've been free lately."

You agree, in the end, you were only watching the show for him, so the last chapter meant that you were done with the show.

While he enjoys his show, you search for a nice outfit, you wanted something simple but not that simple to look too lazy.

You find something cute on Zara, planning to go to the mall on your way home. After all the party was in three days and you always prepared at the last minute so a quick change of plans was nice.

"Amor, I think I'm leaving, I still have to study for this test." You move from your position on the couch, now being on top of him. "Te quiero, our food was yummy and the show was good."

"I thought you were staying." He pouts. Arms around you. "Stay"

"Pedri, I've been here since yesterday."

"One more night." He beg, kissing your temple. "Just one."

"If I say yes, I'm not studying for my test."

"I'll help you study. We can go pick your notes." His kisses go from your temple to your cheek. "Por favor."

You fight the urge to say yes. Knowing that you actually have a test coming up and you really need to pick up your books and study for it.

"I'll see you tomorrow after practice." You remove yourself from his arms. Turning to kiss him goodbye. "Come home to me after practice, and I'll make you some healthy salmon."

He smiles, kisses your hands, and gets up to go with you to your car. "Drive safe and please text me when you're home, okay?" He kisses your lips one last time and close your car door.

You wave him goodbye and turn the radio, passing to the Dunkin Donuts drive thru for your favorite drink. You wanted to keep looking for an outfit.

Pedro's family are simple people. They prefer company than material things, something you loved. You wanted to be pretty for Pedro and also look good but not like the center of attention.

You search different stores for the outfit, finding something you consider perfect to wear, it was simple but pretty.

You also find a shirt for Pedri, something black and plain but with a simple quote. Very him.

When you're home you text him, sending him a picture of your books in your desk. Telling him that you will be off line and to call you if he needs anything.

He replied with a picture of him and Fer playing something, asking you to not stress out and to take breaks here and there.

The rest of the week you chose to stay low-key with the communication. Your test went extra well on Friday. You were happy and excited about the weekend because you needed the distraction.

You woke up and started yo get ready, taking a well-deserved full shower, taking your time. You wanted to feel extra clean cause it was a hot day.

When you're out you turn on a movie while getting ready, deciding to do something with your hair instead of letting it down.

When you're almost done with everything, you decide to do something very light with makeup. You don't want to feel gross if you sweat.

Your makeup session is interrupted by your phone, Pedri's name can be read on the screen.

"Hola amor." You say, keep applying some powder to your face. "Are you almost here?"

"About that, I wanted to tell you something."

"Yes, tell me"

"I was thinking, since you're busy with your exams and working on the project. I don't want to be a distraction, and I invite Ferran to the party."

You pause what you're doing to stare at your phone screen. Was he for real?

"Wait, what?" You snorted, thinking maybe he's joking. "C'mon, be serious. Don't play like that."

"Amor, I'm not." He says, serious tone. "I just don't want to bother your study session."

You let the brush fall, placing your hands to your face to try to calm yourself down. "Pedro." You say, voice tired. "What are you even on?"

He just stays quiet. He's not even considering that maybe he could have asked you before taking that decision.

"He pasado toda la mañana arreglandome, para que tú ahora vengas a decirme que tú piensas que es mejor que no vaya, dejándome saber cinco putos minutos antes de la hora en la que me pensabas recoger." You say, low and angry voice. (I've been all morning getting ready, for you to tell me that you thought it would help me to not go, letting me know five fucking minutes before you're supposed to picked me up.)

"I didn't think you would mind it that much."

"Pedro!"

"Okay, I mean, I can ask Adrian if you can come, I don't think he'd say no."

"You told everybody but me that I wasn't coming?" You can't even feel any more anger, just disappointment. "Pedro, that's so not okay for you to do to me."

"Can you not exaggerate?" He asks frustrated, he obviously doesn't care as much as you do. "It's not like you don't have to study. If something, I'm helping you here."

You hang up the call, not feeling like talking to him anymore. You can feel the tears in your eyes.

You don't want to cry but here you are, tears rolling down your cheeks. He didn't care about your opinion, he doesn't care about all the time you spend getting ready or anything you ever do.

You hear your phone ringing again, his name on the screen. Declining his call. You take your makeup remover wipes, cleaning your face.

You undo your hair and change into your pajamas. Not feeling like doing anything you throw yourself in bed.

After fifteen minutes you hear your front door getting opened, you lift your head from your pillow.

Your door is next, and a frowny Pedri walks into your room. "Get up, we're leaving." He's mad, you can tell.

Why was he mad when you're the one who got left out?

"I'm not going anywhere with you, Ferran and you can have a nice day. Go." You turn your back to him, throwing the blanket over your head.

"Y/n, I don't have time to play. Plus, you're not even ready. Stop the drama." He takes the blanket off your body in a movement.

"I was ready, but then you called me and told me that you prefer to take Ferran cause I was busy, so keep thinking that and go."

"Why are you acting this way? Are you on your period or something?"

You scuff, mad at his stupid sexist joke. "Why are you." You point at him. "Acting this way? Can't you see that I'm hurt by what you did?"

He rolls his eyes, you feel hurt by his action. He definitely doesn't care. "You don't even care." You cry. "Pedro, It took me a lot of time to get ready, I went out and bought a nice outfit and did all of this to look good for you and you treat me like I'm your booty call or worse."

"Is it about the money?" He asks exasperated, he pull out his wallet, throwing a few hundreds on the bed. "There, so you can be done with whatever this is."

You're speechless, not sure if you're dreaming or if he actually just did that.

"This isn't about money. This is about you not caring about me or how I'm feeling." You throw a pillow at him. "Get out, have a lot of fun and forget we even had this conversation."

You get up from bed, pushing him to the side and hiding in the bathroom. You cry as soon as the front door slams shut.

You thought that he would come to his senses later on the day, but when the night came and there was no text or calls from him, you were more mad than before.

The next day, he did call, and he texted you. But you were mad, you don't like how he treats you like you're nothing.

A few days pass by like that, you don't answer any of his calls, focusing on your studies like he wanted you to.

"So you're still not in speaking terms?" Your friend asks. "He hasn't even reach?"

"He tried." You sigh, he did try to reach to you, but you didn't answer any calls. "I'm just not ready to forgive him."

Your friend understood that you didn't want to talk too much about it, changing topics to something different she told you about her recent trip.

You spend all evening with her, dropping her home you went back to your house. You were in a blue mood.

The last fight left you with a sour aftertaste, it took him days to realize that he fucked up.

When the anger pass you understood that you weren't going to give in as easy as before.

You notice the black Porsche parked in front of your house. You opened the garage door and parked the car.

The doorbell rings, making you sigh. Were you giving him the benefit of the doubt?

"Hey." You whisper. Opening the door to find him. "Do you need something?" You block the entrance with your arm.

"Can we talk, please?"

"About? You ask , prentending to be confused. You wanted him to admit that he did wrong, you wanted him to see that you weren't going to allowed him to be like that again.

"Amor, can I come in?" He take a step closer.

"Oh, I'm your "amor" now?" You scoff, rolling your eyes at him. "I thought that I was just Y/n."

"Please." He begged. You can tell he hasn't had the best week, those bags under his eyes. "I don't want you to be mad at me."

"Why would I be mad?" You pretend confusion again. "I was just dramatic and probably on my period, remember?"

He brings one hand to his face. He's embarrassed by his actions. He wasn't like that to anyone, shouldn't be with you.

"I bought this for you." He hands you the bag of your favorite food place. You hesitate to take it, not wanting he to see this as a peace acceptance. "It's your favorite."

You take it, putting the bag away in the little table inside your house and next to your door. "Thank you." You whisper. "If that's all, you can leave."

You were about to close the door. Not wanting to deal with his lack of words. But his foot doesn't allow it.

"Amor, please, I just want to apologize. Let me."

You sigh, opening the door and moving for him to walk inside. "Five minutes, I'm counting." You say checking your watch.

"I'm fucking sorry, the way I talked to you was fucking wrong, and you're right, I shouldn't just do something without you knowing or deciding first." He tries to get closer, you lift a hand for him to stop. "Amor, I'm fucking sorry, I was an asshole. You're not a booty call. You're my girlfriend, and I didn't give you the respect you deserve."

"Why did you do that?" You ask, wanting for him to explain himself. "You treated me like my time and opinion didn't matter, that hurted."

He feels his heart breaking at the sight of your sad eyes, he fucked up real bad. "Mi amor, perdón." He walks over to you, wrapping his arms around you. "I do care about your opinion and your feelings. Your time is as valuable as mine. I'm sorry I was a fucking asshole."

"I just don't get why would you do that to me." You whisper, head buried in the crock of his neck. "You treat me like I'm not important."

"You're very important to me." He tightened his hug. Kissing your shoulder.

You hate to give in so easily, you hate to feel like you will take anything to keep your relationship.

But he wouldn't do it. He wouldn't be the one forgiving you if that was the case. He wouldn't be the one opening your door. And you know it.

"Let me make it up to you. Let's watch your favorite movies and I can go get your favorite drink to make it up." You nod, closing the door with your feet and walking hand in hand to your room.

🍃🍃🍃

"Now add some salt, but try it to see if a little is enough of if you need more." Rosy says, passing you the salt and helping you with the mixing of the food.

Rosy was teaching you how to do some typical Tenerife food. You once tried it and you loved it.

You enjoy cooking with her and with Fer, both taught you a lot, making you a better cook.

"Well I kinda eat with a lot of salt, so will you help me with trying it." You grab a spoon, taking a bit of the food and passing it to her to try it.

She nods, giving you a thumbs up and turning the stove down. "Perfect" she smiles.

You help wash the dishes and put away the rest of the ingredients. You were having a fun day with his family while he was in Napoli.

Your family was in Madrid spending the last days of a festival. You were invited to go but wanted to stay in Barcelona due to study.

"Fer, you have a new competition." Rosy says, proud of you for learning so quickly. "because this, mijo." she points at her plate of food. "it's amazing, and she was only following instructions."

Fer compliment your food, telling you that you did an amazing job, he was on his second serving.

"I'm impressed that you didn't want to go with Pedri to Napoli, I think some of the girlfriends of the players are going." Rosy confess.

You notice how Fer started coughing, and changing the topic. You had this twisted feeling in your stomach.

You want to say you weren't invited, but you don't want to bring Rosy into that. Maybe she heard the wrong thing and Pedro couldn't invite you.

"Fer, you'll be the one washing the dishes. Don't think I don't remember that." Rosy says, leaving Fer and you alone.

He knows his mom fucked up by saying the wrong thing, but he can't actually blame her.

"Are you taking the rest home?" He's feeling awkward. "I can put it away for you." You shake your head no.

"I actually have to go back home, I've been here bothering you two since early today." You don't even feel comfortable anymore.

Were you overthinking?

"You don't bother us, we love you."

Was he being honest? Or just saying that to fix things?

You smile, not wanting to engage in the conversation, but he did notice that, he can sense the change in you.

"Do you need help or should I get going?" You collect your things, putting everything on your bag.

"No, don't worry. Be careful on your way home."

Waving him goodbye and asking him to say goodbye to his mom for you was all you did.

You knew some of the players invited their partners, like Sara, Mikky, and Katrine; but you thought that maybe they were the ones who planned the trip.

You chose to play potato and stayed in bed the rest of the day, watching some romcoms and texting your family on your group chat.

Fer texted him, informing him about what his mom said to you. He immediately pick his phone to call you.

You were interrupted by the FaceTime call. "Hola, guapa." He smiles, his beard was making him look more mature. "Were you busy?"

"Noup, just watching TV."

You were serious, putting the phone in your nightstand so you could keep watching your movie.

He told you about everything he did, you only hummed in response to what he's saying. He was nervous, he noticed the way you're not even interested in hearing about his day. "What are you watching?"

"Just go with it." You sigh, wanting to hang up and not have to pretend you're not kinda mad. "It's almost done."

He nods, even when your eyes are not on him. "Sara says hi."

You scuff, he definitely had a nerve. "If you see her again, tell her I say hi." You grab your phone, ready to say goodbye. "Si sabes que no tienes que fingir que no me estas llamando por lo que dijo tu madre?" (You know you don't have to pretend that you're not calling me because of what your mother said?) You left out a bitter laugh.

He knew you were not the most direct person, that's why he never expected you to be this direct about the topic. "Guapa, listen."

"You don't have to invite me, just don't tell other people you did and that I said no. That made it awkward for me and for your brother even."

"Can you not do this?" He sighs mad. "I forgot and when mom asked me about it I just lied."

"I'm not doing anything, I'm just saying that it was awkward for me, that's all." You were calm, much calmer than he thought.

"I just want to talk. Can we pass this?"

This was a pattern. He promised to change, pretend for a while, and then go back to his old self.

"I don't feel like talking to you right now."

"Joder, this is why I don't say shit. You just want to always be the center of attention, such a bother."

You stop breathing. That was so unnecessary of him to say. Specially when he was the one who fucked things up.

"If I am a bother, then why are you with me?" You can feel that pain in your heart, pain that has been with you since this attitude started.

"Sometimes I ask myself that."

"Pedro." You whisper, hurt by his words.

Just hung up the call, block him and don't go back. But it was easier to think than to actually do it.

"You want full attention and I can't, I'm not a nine to five kind of guy, I have a much harder job."

"Pedro." You try to interrupt him.

"And fuck, my friends are right, I'm missing a lot because I chose to lock myself down with a serious relationship, you don't even support me."

"I don't what?" You ask loud. "I support you more than your stupid brain actually acknowledges." It's your turn to be mad, leaving the feeling of pain being replaced by anger.

"Don't call me stupid."

"I know you're working very hard on growing your career, I've always accepted for you to give me the crumbs of your time, I'm the one making and effort to keep whatever this shitty relationship turned into."

"Oh, so we now have a shitty relationship?"

"You just called me a bother, Pedro." You remind him his own words. "At this point, I think it is better for both of us to admit that you can't give me what I need, and I'm not what you'll ever need."

"What exactly do you need?" He yells, you're not surprised by that. "I'm trying, I really am."

"No, you're not." You cut him off. "I don't want to keep this going on."

"No, amor, let's calm down. This is blowing out of proportion.- "

You let him talk. You let him pretend he didn't just tell you he questioned himself about you two. You let him excuse his friends about telling him how wrong is for him to he in a relationship.

"No."

"No, what?"

"No, Pedro. I don't want to be a bother to you anymore." You try not to cry. "I don't want to keep you away from fun with other girls like your friends say."

"Amor, that's not.-"

"I don't want to be your last option. I don't want to be in a relationship with you anymore." You're breaking your own heart, but you need this more than you care to accept. "I'm letting you be free to have all the fun in the world, to have all the girls, to not have to overthink every night about how much of a bother you have in life."

"Y/n, please no."

"Good luck on your game tomorrow. You're going to be amazing. Te quiero." You cry, hanging up the phone, you quickly turn it off.

Taking your necklace with his initial on it and letting it rest next to you on your nightstand. You were finally done.

🍃🍃🍃

🏷: miss @gadriezmannsgirl ✨️

#football fanfic #football angst #football #pedri #pedri gonzalez #pedri x reader #pedri angst #pedri x y/n #pedri x you #pedri smut #pedri drabble #pedri headcanon #football x you #football drabble #football smut #football fiction #football fluff #pedri fics #pedri fluff #pedri x ferran

[trcpicoz]

¹⁵⁾ “go on, baby. ride my thigh.” + Pedri

please i love your smut so much, btw a little context how about the reader is being needy the entire time so instead of fucking her pedri tell her to ride him??

𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐌𝐞

masterlist | prompts

warnings: smut 18+, thigh riding, fingering, cuddling, spooning, grinding

being without pedri when he played away games was the worst and when he came back home you couldn’t help but throw yourself all over him being needy for his touch.

while you were getting ready to go to bed you couldn’t get over the absence of pedri’s touch. he was turned to the other side scrolling through his phone trying to wind down from a busy wednesday but you weren’t having it. you pressed yourself against his back getting a chuckle out of him. he then turned over to spoon you pressing his bulge covered with nothing but boxerless pajama pants. “you’re so needy for me the way you rub your ass against my cock”.

pedri reached from behind sticking his fingers in your mouth “get them wet for me”. he slipped his fingers down your pants slowly rubbing between your folds letting you feel every bit of his cold touch against your core as you whimpered into the sheets.

you began moving your folds against his fingers and he let you do the work yourself. “get up and get on top of my thigh” pedri insisted caressing you breasts from behind. “go on baby ride it, i want you to soak those pajama pants on my leg before i fuck you”. the teasing from your boyfriend was a bit bothersome but the feeling of his thigh was something you needed for two days and you couldn’t resist.

climbing on top of him, you began to ride his thigh slowly moving your hips against his moaning his name. “pedri papi mmm” his jaw clenched at your moans, he could feel how wet you were through your pants soaking his thigh. “you like the way you clit feels rubbing on me don’t you?” you nodded barely being able to talk from the friction against your core sending pulses through your body.

your breathing intensified as you reached your climax wetting your pants letting the arousal seep onto his leg. “you did such a good job my needy princess. now do you wanna ride something else?”

#pedri #pedri fanfic #pedri gonzalez x reader #pedri smut #pedri x y/n #pedri x you #pedri x reader #pedri imagine #footballer fluff #footballer fic #footballer x reader #footballer smut

[taasgirl]

say something pt 1.

summary: although playing for the same club, pedri and y/n cannot stand the thought of being around each other. enemies to lovers for all my girlies out there - i got u

a/n: not proofread and all in english + more installments coming soon!!

"I told you I can't go out." Salma hadn't stopped bothering me about some party with the men's team. I had so much school to catch up on.

"Come on don't be a party pooper. You study every night and train every day." I spun my chair to face my laptop. "Seriously Y/N, it's only one night." Rolling my eyes, I continued writing my paper.

I had been at university for the past year or so, while simultaneously playing football. For Barcelona. I know, pinch me moment. But I was so determined to graduate high school, and get a degree. I wasn't going to let anything stop me.

Even if it was my dream profession.

The coaches and staff at Barcelona were very understanding, however they weren't too happy when I had to leave training early for lectures.

But I guess I make up for it, I'm the league's top goal scorer, currently on 21 in 9 games. A feat slightly unbelievable to my lecturers and classmates - they think it's insane that someone 'famous' would even bother with university, but I love journalism. Something about writing is so me. Especially topics that I love.

"Don't be a bum Y/N." Truth is, I really wanted to go, but I had already agreed to help one of my classmates with some work.

"I'm supposed to be studying with Alex." Salma instantly spun me around. "The hot one?" I didn't respond.

Alex and I had our fair share of flirty kisses and almost intimate moments, with Salma being our first and only 'fan'. Seriously her words not mine.

"Well bring him then. You two should loosen up. Literally everyone will be bringing a plus one." Now that would actually be a good idea, but he seemed like he really needed my help, and lucky for me, he didn't want to bother me so it would all be through facetime. I could study in the comfort of my bed, in my pyjamas.

"Sorry Sal, you have fun but I'm staying back." She scoffed, this happened a lot, she'd invite me, I'd reject, and then say, "You look really hot though."

"Wait so what did you write about?" I would be lying if I said this wasn't awkward. We had hooked up a few times, and yet each time we spoke to each other it was just as awkward as the last. The term 'friends with benefits' was definitely not applicable to us.

"Umm, mine's just about some of my teammates. You know, sports injuries and that sort of stuff." He smiled when I spoke.

"It's so cool knowing you." Awkward silence soon followed. "Hey uh, I'd really like to take you out. To dinner maybe? You know, when you're not busy being a professional and all that." Well I can't really reject the guy who's made me orgasm multiple times.

"Yeah sure. I'm sure we could go out after class one day." Yeah I was not going to go out with him.

After a few hours of studying with Alex I got a call from Salma. "Hey Alex, I'm getting a call, I'll message you later." Hanging up our facetime, answered Salma's call.

"How's hot boy? Have you fucked yet." She was slurring her words. Definitely off her face drunk. "Hey is this Y/N?" I replied to the voice, one of a man's. "Listen we need you to come pick Salma up, she's drunk." The boy on the other side of the phone said it almost annoyed.

"Who is this?" Immediately he replied, "Pedri. Now can you hurry? I'm sending over the address." The notification popped up on my phone, she was at a club downtown.

"I can't." Pedri didn't speak. I knew him from our minimal media interactions, but other than that, he had a reputation as a dickhead fuck boy. "What do you mean you can't?" Because I was so preoccupied with school and work, I never had the time to get my license.

"I can't drive, I don't have a license." I could almost hear him roll his eyes.

"Are you serious? How do you expect her to get home?" He was clearly pissed off. "Maybe be a gentleman and drive her home?" He groaned, obviously unwilling to do so.

"Don't put her in a cab. Drive her home, here I'm sending you the address." As soon as he received my message through Sal's phone he hung up. What a dickhead.

After about fifteen minutes, I heard loud banging at my door. Rushing over, Salma practically fell in my arms. "Y/N you won't believe the night I had." She needed to sleep, we needed to be at training by 6 tomorrow for fitness testing. I have no idea why she'd pick tonight as the time to get wasted.

"Thank you Pedri, I'll see you tomorrow." As I went to shut the door, he stuck his foot in, pushing the door wide.

"So I leave a party with beautiful women to drop your lightweight friend off, and you don't even offer me a glass of water?" His tone was condescending, as he followed me through our apartment.

"Yeah well, sorry for ruining your night." As I helped Salma into her bed, he leaned on her doorframe. "You know usually when I take a girl home it doesn't end like this." He smiled, that kind of dickhead-fuckboy smile. I didn't respond, walking under his arm as I made my way to the front door. I opened my wallet and handed him €10. "For the petrol, now please leave." I pushed the money against his chest as he scoffed. "I don't need your money." He looked me up and down. "See you later Y/N."

Salma and I successfully made our way to the Barcelona grounds, a round of water and plenty of bread slowly sobered her up.

"So how was your date with sexy classmate." I smacked her lightly. "Awkward as fuck. You'd think that someone who's seen me naked plenty of times would know how to talk to me, but I guess not." We walked past the front desk. "Morning. And it wasn't a date, just a study session."

Making our way to the changerooms, I made eye contact with a certain somebody. That certain somebody came over to us. "What do you want?" He looked at me puzzled, in a dismissive way. "Oh I'm not here to talk to you." He diverted his gaze to Salma. "You were quite the partier last night." She smiled at him, I have no idea how.

"We gotta go. Bye Pedri." I pulled Salma away from him. "You're literally gay stop making eyes at him." She looked at me as we sped walked through the hallway. "Doesn't mean a girl can't look." I rolled my eyes. I can't take this girl seriously sometimes.

By the time we had made it out to the field, everyone could tell that Sal was hungover. She wasn't hitting anywhere near her top speed and was very slow at our reaction training games.

Jonatan pulled her aside, and soon enough, she was escorted inside by our assistant coach. "Bring it in girls." I stood next to Lucy as Jonatan began a speech.

"It has come to my attention that there was a party last night." The girls began looking around at each other. "And I understand that you are young and want to have fun, but when alcohol or even drugs are involved, it becomes a problem for the club." Lucy looked down at me.

"I need you to all be aware of what you're doing. You are professional footballers, and now is not the time to be partying let alone drinking." The girls started to whisper to each other.

"And I especially need you to look after the kids here. They're young and vulnerable. If you see them in a less than ideal situation, you need to help them out." Jonatan didn't raise his voice, one of the reasons why he has been my favourite coach. "Now get back out there."

Training was tense, and by the time we had arrived inside Salma was lying on one of the physio beds fast asleep. "Sal are you alright?" She groaned, covering her face. "Lucy said she'd drive you home, but I really need to get to class." I gave her a quick hug before I headed for the showers and prepared myself before class.

It's hard being a student-athlete, or an athlete-student depending on how you look at it. As I left the building I saw Gavi standing outside.

"Hey Pablo." He turned around, immediately hugging me. Gavi was my first friend here in Barca when I joined the academy, and although we haven't kept in contact as much, I still consider him one of my best friends.

"Looking good Y/N. You off to school?" I nodded, signalling to my laptop bag clutched in my hand. "You're seriously the hardest worker I know." After a short conversation a car pulled up to the kerb. A short honk alerted us.

"Get in Gavi. Y/N." Hey, at least he didn't dismiss me. "Can Y/N come, we just need to drop her off at the uni. It's down the road." Before I could reject Gavi's idea, Pedri spoke up. "Yeah no. Come Pablo." Gavi didn't get in the car.

"Seriously Pepi, let her come with us. It'll be a short trip." Soon enough, Pedri agreed, unlocking the back door for me.

Pedri didn't speak the entire ride, and even though it was short, I felt completely unwelcomed. By the time we had arrived on campus, Pedri drove right to the communications building. I thanked him, and stepped out of the car.

As I began to walk away from the car a familiar voice called out to me. "Y/N wait up!" Alex ran up to me, and immediately pulled me in for a hug. I could feel Pedri and Gavi's eyes on me, the car hadn't moved.

"Thanks for the help last night." We walked into the building together and found our seats.

After a boring three hour lecture, I quickly made my way down to the exit. "Y/N wait up." I spun around, facing Alex. "Is now an alright time to ask you to lunch?" I could help but blush. Now normally I would've politely declined, but I am so unbelievably hungry, so I agreed.

"As long as you're driving I'm up." He smiled and brought me to his car.

"I told you that class boy was your guy!" Sal yelled at me after being dropped home by Alex. "When you aren't preoccupied by the dick-"

"Yuck don't say that Sal!"

"It's true, see he's a good guy. Hot too."

I pushed a pillow to her face. She was really too much sometimes. We were sat on the couch, relaxing until it was time to sleep. She was telling me about this incredible girl from last night when I heard a knock on the door. I got up and answered it. To my surprise Pedri was standing there.

"Uh, um you left this in my car." He handed me over an unfamiliar plastic bag, but after a quick look inside, I could tell that it was my sports bra and socks from training.

"Oh yeah, um thanks." We stood there awkwardly in the frame of the door until Salma came up. "Left them in his car huh?"

Pedri immediately tried to speak but his mumbles were cut off by Salma. "Leaving your clothes in one guys car and then going out with a different guy the same day is truly boss energy." Pedri looked at me concerned.

"He and Gavi drove me to class ok, so let's get inside. Thank you Pedri, I really appre-" "Come in Pepi! Take a seat." Salma cut me off and ushered him in. Looking down at me, he made his way to my seat on the couch.

"You know what guys, I'm actually gonna head to bed." Salma pouted at me. "Come on, it's only for a few minutes." I shook my head and went into my room, grabbing my clothes so I could take a quick shower.

By the time I finished my shower, I could still hear Pedri and Salma talking. I wrapped a towel around myself and made my way to my room. That was of course, until I bumped into him.

"Maybe look where you're going next time." He said to me, a look of disgust plastered on his face. "Get the fuck out of my house." He laughed.

"Yeah cause this two room apartment is a house. You seriously need to get a life." I pushed past him, opening my door. "Oh and maybe you should try and be welcoming for once. God knows it'll do you a world of good." I slammed the door after hearing his comment. I have no idea why I even gave him the time of day.

He's such a piece of shit. I'm literally a university student who also happens to be a footballer - a women's one at that. I have no choice but to live in a shitty apartment with my teammate. I don't have the type of money he has.

pls let me know if you like this! i'll update as often as possible and pls give me some requests! i'll write about anyone (m+f)!! thank you!

part two!

#football #football fanfic #football imagine #enemies to lovers #pedri x you #pedri #pedri x reader #pedri enemies to lovers #fc barcelona #barca femeni #pablo gavi #pedri fic #pedri imagine #pedri gonzalez #football fic #soccer #la liga #footballer #slow burn #angst with a happy ending #jealousy

[gadriezmannsgirl]

Ok so... I've gotten a lots of asks for a part 2 of Believe What You Want, however... I don't know what ending to do... Happy or angsty? Forgive Pedri or not? So...

#M. is writing #M. asks #pedri #pedri gonzalez #pedri x reader #pedri gonzález x reader #pedri gonzalez x reader #pedri gonzález #pedri fic #pedri gonzalez fic

[barcaracing]

bye you’re one of the best writers on here for pedri😭 could i request a one where his girlfriend meets his parents and brother for the first time at a football match?? You’re amazing!!!

pairing: pedri x fem!reader

warnings: none

a/n: ahh tysm :,))<3 sorry it took me so long to respond to this ask, i have no excuse. i’m just bad at checking my inbox and great at forgetting tumblr exists. hope u like this one!

******

"Mi vida, I love you, you know I do, but if you don't stop bouncing your leg, I will swerve into Lewy's car and we'll both die with no money and a lawsuit for a legacy." Pedri puts his hand on your thigh while looking over his shoulder to reverse the car into the parking spot. Meeting your eyes, he winks. "And that's usually not what football players get sued for."

You can't help but laugh, pushing his shoulder lightly before forcing yourself to relax. You know there's no reason to be nervous about meeting his family, especially since they're probably the nicest people on this planet given that they literally raised your boyfriend, the kindest and most down-to-earth person you know. But that doesn't change the fact that you need them to love you. There's literally no other option. It's either that or death.

"Sorry," you say sheepishly, glancing at the expensive vehicle parked next to you. You're not sure how much it's worth, but getting sued by the striker for property damage would probably leave you dirt-poor. "He wouldn't actually sue you for hitting his car, right?" You muse. "It's not like needs the money. Or the car."

Pedri shakes his head. "No, but he'd do it to get back at me for flinging the gymnastic ball at his face yesterday."

"Oh," you say, wincing. "Sounds fair."

Pedri snorts and turns off the engine before unbuckling himself. He turns to you with a gentle smile and those big, earnest eyes of his and you feel your heart stutter.

"Ready?" He says and for a second you need to remind yourself that he didn’t ask if you wanted to run away with him and start a cute little family on a island somewhere, but if you were ready to leave the car. That silly mind of yours.

"No." You laugh helplessly. "But can't back out now, can I?"

"You could," Pedri says slowly, thumb rubbing circles into your thigh. "But they'll love you. You've talked to Fer on FaceTime and my parents are fond of you already. You have nothing to worry about and there's nothing you could do wrong. I promise.”

You can see that Pedri genuinely means every word, and it warms your heart to know how important this is to him. You're important to him, you realise, and just like that, you'd do anything for him. That’s crazy, right? He really has you wrapped around his finger and that is one mortifying and reassuring realisation to have right before meeting his parents. Leaning forward, you capture his lips in a kiss before mirroring his smile when you pull back.

"What if I start cheering for Atlético?" You ask innocently.

Pedri pecks your lips again. He pulls the keys out of the ignition and pats your knee, the metal feeling cold against your skin. "Then I'll sue you for property damage."

"What did I damage?"

"My heart."

You burst out laughing. Pedri shoots you a cheeky grin before exiting the car and a moment later, the door on your side opens. You step out, shaking your head at your boyfriend's crooked smile. "That was horrible."

Pedri closes the door and pulls you closer by the loop on your pants, pressing a kiss into your hair. "Anything to hear that pretty laugh of yours." He leaves his hand on the small of your back and rubs the familiar fabric of his kit between his fingers. "Nice kit," he comments as you make your way to the entrance.

"Thanks." You hum, looking down at it. "I wanted to get Gavi's but they didn't have it in-store so I got this. Player 8 is alright."

Cutting you a sideways glare, Pedri pinches your skin, making you yelp. "I take it back. You're horrible." He crosses his arms. "I hope they dislike you and Fer pushes you down the stairs."

You look at him with wide eyes. "Pedri!"

"That's what you get. I hope you get a good tumble in. Toppling down those steps like a cartoon character until there are birds flying over your head." He manages to keep a straight face for a moment longer before he completely dissolves into giggles. Like actual giggles and it's the cutest thing you've ever seen even if you want to kick him.

You both come to a slow halt at the entrance. It leads to the changing rooms, but you need to go through another door to get to your seats. Mikky and the others are probably already inside and so is his family, which is honestly terrifying to think about. You really wish Pedri could at least come with you to introduce you or just stand there and look pretty, but he's already running late.

"I'm sorry," Pedri says with a hint of remaining laughter. He takes both your hands into his and meets your gaze. "Just breathe, yeah? You'll be fine, princesa. My parents and brother will finally meet the beautiful, smart, funny, and kind girl that I've been talking about since March. It’ll be special." He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest. For a moment, all you hear is his heartbeat and things don't seem as dire anymore.

“I’m excited to meet them too, amor," you say softly and pull back to kiss him, whispering against his lips, "Go win this, campéon. We'll be cheering the loudest in there." You poke his side. "Only if I don't crack open my skull and bleed out on those stairs, of course. You fucking sadist."

Pedri chuckles and lowers his face into the nape of your neck, shoulders shaking with laughter. After some encouraging words and a few more kisses, you part ways and find yourself moving on autopilot while going to your seats. Weirdly, it calms you. Camp Nou always has. You've walked through these halls so many times now and every time, you feel like nothing bad could happen at a place this magical.

Your heart gets stuck in your throat anyway when you approach your seats and a familiar-looking dark-haired boy in a Barca kit takes one look at you and his whole face lights up. "Y/N, hola!"

This gets the attention of Pedri's parents, who spin around and immediately greet you with warm smiles and kisses on the cheek. "It is so nice to finally meet you," Rosy says, hugging you tighter. "Pedri has told us so much about you."

"He really did," his father teases, giving you a hug as well. "Can't get him to shut up even if we wanted to."

You laugh, feeling your face heat up at his words. "He's been telling me so much about you all as well, I'm so happy we finally get to meet." Rosy squeezes your arm and Fer flashes you a smile so familiar, it makes you feel like you can actually, genuinely do this. "So when did you arrive? I hope you haven't been waiting for too long."

"Oh, not at all," Pedri’s father replies, "we just got here ourselves. We were hoping to talk to Pedri before the match, but it's fine. We'll see him afterwards."

"About that," Rosy swoops in, and you notice how soft her voice is. “We were hoping to go out to dinner with you two if that's alright with you both. And if you don't have other plans, of course."

You shake your head, warming up to the idea of spending more time with them. "We'd love to join you. Especially after that lunch fiasco today."

"That's great," Rosy answers at the same time that Fernando asks,

"What happened at lunch?"

Sighing, you shake your head and sink to your seat. "It's too terrible to talk about." You glance at them conspicuously before leaning forward as if to share a secret. God knows where the confidence suddenly comes from. "Pedri tried to cook for us."

Horrified gasps meet your statement.

"What did he make?" says Rosy, sounding concerned. "I'm so sorry, mi niña."

"Don't ever let him do that again if you don’t want to get food poisoning. He cooked for me once and I nearly saw the light," Fer warns with a shake of his head.

"Pedri can cook?" Fernando asks, looking extremely confused.

“Can’t,” all three if you say at the same time.

“Oh.” He blinks. “Well, that’s a shame considering we have a restaurant.”

“At least he’s got football going for him. Plus, a beautiful girl who eats his deadly food,” Rosy says.

“Ah.” Fer sighs. “Young love.”

You join their laughter and let your gaze wander down to the pitch as more players start warming up. Honestly, you haven’t even noticed that they’ve come out, but you suppose that can only mean that you’ve gotten along pretty well so far with Pedri’s family, which is a good thing. Very good.

Your eyes land on your boyfriend, who is already looking up at where you’re sitting with his parents and brother. There’s a wide smile stretching across his face and when he gives a wave, you all cheer and wave back. Pedri’s eyes meet yours and you could swear there’s a twinkle in them. He holds up a thumb and arches an eyebrow.

Smiling brightly, you nod and mirror his thumbs up. A dopey grin break out on his face and he touches his lips to send you a kiss. It’s embarrassing how you can’t even pretend not to be absolutely giddy and smitten by this.

You are quick to send a kiss back, which he catches and presses into chest while walking backwards, eyes still locked onto yours. He nearly trips over a ball and you can’t help but laugh, his parents and brother joining in and teasing the both of you relentlessly. The smile your face is hard to wipe off. You really had nothing to worry about.

*****

feedback is always appreciated, stay hydrated kids :)

#pedri one shot #pedri x reader #pedri imagine #pedri x y/n #pedri #pedri fluff #pedri x you #pedri gonzalez #pedri fanfic #pedri fic #fc barca #fc barcelona fanfic #fc barca fanfic #pedri blurb

[sports-on-sundays]

you can do one where the reader and Pedri are best friends and she ends up declaring herself to him but he says he doesn't feel the same way, so a while later she starts getting closer to one of his friends and Pedri gets jealous and realizes his true feelings feelings for the reader💓💓

make up your mind / Pedri González

Summary: Pedri x female!reader - In which Pedri changes his mind.

Requested?: For sure!

Author's Note: Pedri anons 💓 Also I'm a sucker for picnic scenes; theyre my go-to when I can't think of a good setting. Send help.

This is it. This is the day. We'll sit in the sun, I'll take his hand, tell him the truth, and...

Hopefully he'll feel the same way.

As you park your car, you gradually reach out to switch off the radio and glance at Pedri, who is seated beside you. Just as you are about to say something, he flashes a grin and reaches over to switch the radio back on. With a slight chuckle, he explains, "I like this song."

You can't help but smile back. "Quevedo is your favorite." It's less of a question and more of a statement.

He agrees with a nod, turning off the radio after the song ends. "By the way, where did the idea of a picnic come from, anyway?" He opens the car door as you get out together.

What you want to say is Well, honestly, Pedri, because it's a beautiful day to admit to your handsome face in the sunshine that I'm in love with you. What you do say is: "I don't know. Just wanted to hang out with you, and I didn't have any better ideas."

You have formed a terrible habit of not saying what you're thinking to Pedri.

Today that's going to change.

As you walk alongside Pedri, swinging your arm, you let your hands brush on purpose. That doesn't stop you from blushing, so you look at your feet. You carry the blanket, and he carries the food. Finally you find a nice spot by the water, under the shade of a tree and lay down the blanket. You plop down and look up at Pedri with a playful grin. He sets the food down and sits down, criss-cross, across from you. You both kick off your sandals, and you smile giddily as you start taking out the food.

Pedri has, of course, realized your nervous excitement by now, and asks with an amused tone, "So, what is it? What's got you in such a good mood?"

A part of you desperately wants to just let it spill now, but the smarter part of you says that's not a good idea. That this isn't the best timing. You want to say, Well, Pedri, the thing that has got me in such a mood is that for years now I've been holding back my feelings for you and I've finally decided today is the day I'm just going to tell you, because I've got this hunch you might just feel the same way as I do.

Instead, you shrug. "Just a beautiful day. It's sunny, the water is beautiful, I made myself my favorite sandwich, and I'm enjoying all of it relaxing with my best friend in the shade. What is there not to be in a good mood about?"

Pedri seems to accept this answer with a nod, and replies, "Good point. It is quite lovely. I appreciate you inviting me."

You nod, and hand him the little lunch you promised you'd make him. He smiles, pleased. You grin back, watching him take a bite, and feel a little swarm of butterflies in your stomach as he congratulates. "Very good! Thanks so much for offering to bring me some lunch."

It, truthfully, is completely your pleasure. Seeing him enjoying anything you've done for him or said to him pretty much fills you with pure joy. If you could explain this to him, you would. But instead you respond with a simple, "You're welcome."

So you eat together, and as you do this, you subtly try to move closer to him. Eventually, you end up sitting side by side on the blanket, gazing at the water, legs stretched out, and sharing a gentle touch. With the meal done, you're now simply basking in the warmth of the sun.

And you know it's now or never. You swallow. It's silent. This is the time.

"Hey, uh, Pedri...?" you ask slowly, looking up toward his face.

"Yes?" he's smiling. You smile back as your eyes meet his.

You feel as confidence gradually grows in you. You swallow but say, "There's... there's something that's been on my mind for a while now. Something I've had on my mind. I've had it on my mind to tell you..."

He nods, looking slightly concerned, since you're now speaking in a softer, more serious tone.

You deeply inhale and exhale, before letting it go. You grab Pedri's hand as the words, "Pedri, I like you. Like, as more than a friend. And I have for a while now," tumble out from your mouth.

He stares. His mouth opens and closes. His face flushes. Your heart skips a beat.

Say something.

Tell me you like me back.

You watch as he swallows. He softly slips his hand out of yours. You swallow.

"Y/n... that's... I'm sorry... that's very sweet... But I'm afraid, I, uh..."

You feel a lump in your throat.

"...I'm afraid I don't feel the same way."

You cough. Stare ahead. "You... don't...?"

He speaks quickly but quietly, as though it's awkward to say, and he's trying to be gentle and honest at the same time.

No matter how much of a gentle tone he uses, nothing about that honesty can make you feel better.

"You're a lovely girl," he begins. "And I do love you, but as a friend... You're... You're like a sister to me. I've known you for years. I love spending time with you. I love you. Just... not in that way... I'm sorry."

You stand up and slip on your sandals, looking down. You can't let him see you cry over this. You need to understand. You can't let him feel bad over it, because he's done nothing wrong. He's just being honest. You wouldn't want him to pretend to like you.

You just want him to really like you.

But he doesn't.

The fact that he flat out said he sees you as a sister.

That hurts.

"Wait," Pedri says, standing up with you. He takes your arm. "I'm sorry- I-"

"It's okay," you respond. "Don't be sorry. You didn't do anything wrong."

It was you who messed up. You shouldn't have told him. You shouldn't have been so confident that he would feel the same way.

You grab hold of the blanket, which feels too soft. And the birds' chirping is overly shrill, and the water is too loud, and its waves are terribly big. And the grass and the trees are too green, and there are ants scurrying over your feet and the blanket, and you have a mosquito bite, and there's an empty soda bottle that someone carelessly tossed into the water, now floating away. Everything that was a flawless day just moments ago has turned, suddenly, utterly dreadful.

You almost throw up that delicious lunch in your mouth.

Pedri is saying something, but you can feel tears threatening to fall.

You interrupt him and say blandly, "I think I should go now... Bye."

As you walk off, Pedri calls after you. He follows you, and he doesn't want you to go. But you tell him to leave you alone, and he does. And you get in your car, leave him there, and go home.

It's ruined. Its all messed up and awkward with Pedri. You're aware he's trying not to have it that way, but it still is, anyway.

And you're pretty sure you're not imagining that all the sudden when you hang out together, he'd prefer to have someone else with him.

Well, sometimes it's some of his friends outside of football. Sometimes, more often, it's his teammates, because you already know them. You and Pedri met because of football. You like his friends/teammates in Barcelona.

Most of the time, it's Ferran or Gavi, which makes complete sense, since those are his closest buddies on the team. They're both sweet, and you get along well with both. Ferran, perhaps, more so, for whatever reason. He's got a great sense of humor and comes up with interesting conversation topics.

That's the thing, though. You feel more inclined, when it's you, Pedri, and Ferran hanging out, to relate with and talk with Ferran, just because there's not that terrible awkwardness between you and him.

Gavi's super nice too, but usually he doesn't have much to talk to you about, and then you just end up feeling like the tag-along.

Nothing against him, though. You get it.

He just wants to hang out with his friend.

You just wish Pedri would choose one way or another. He's always inviting you, but seems to have these strict walls he's building. You get it. Maybe he's just nervous. Maybe he doesn't want to give you hope.

But really, it's your fault. If you hadn't let the stupid confession tumble out, you'd still be good, normal friends like you have been for years.

You wish Pedri would either be that good, normal friend to you like he always had, you just cut you out of his life. Then at least you'd (hopefully) just eventually move on and get over him.

But, no. Instead, he's balancing in this weird in-between place. And you hate it.

And then, one day, you get a surprising text. Ferran had your number in a group chat with a few other people, but now you're getting a private text from him.

Ferran Torres: Hey, do you want to hang out?

Me: Why are you asking me, and not Pedri?

Ferran Torres: Because this doesn't have to do with Pedri. Im wondering if you want to hang out with me.

Me: No one else with us?

Ferran Torres: I was thinking just you and I. Unless you don't think so.

You stare at the screen, unsure. What is he getting at? You wouldn't want him to think you like him any more than a friend, but at the same time, spending some time together sounds nice.

Well, you already have your heart set on Pedri, whether he feels the same or not.

But you remember when, years ago, you were first getting to know Pedri, you were considering these same sorts of things. You finally sigh, shrug, and type back,

Me: Sure. What have you got in mind?

That's just the beginning. As time goes on, you and Ferran continue to grow closer, while the whole time you and Pedri are drifting farther and farther apart. While you enjoy Ferran's friendship, it's a different dynamic compared to your relationship with Pedri. Pedri was more open and understanding, providing a sense of comfort and security. He would hold your hand, lend a listening ear, and offer advice only when requested. Ferran, on the other hand, is more of a lighthearted friend with whom you have a good time. If you encounter any difficulties, he'll ask you questions about it, or try to come up with a solution, or distract you.

It's just different.

You lost your friendship with Pedri, but gained one with Ferran. But in the end, it feels more like a loss in the end. Your heart aches for Pedri.

You're not sure how Ferran feels about you, but you're careful about boundaries. You can't let your feelings get away from you after getting your heart broken so recently.

But from Ferran's point of view? Who knows how he feels?

One day, as you walk Ferran to your car after his training, since you're planning on going for lunch somewhere, you pass Pedri. Unexpectedly, Pedris eyes meet yours. In that fleeting moment, his eyes reflect a mix of contrition, confusion, and overall just strong emotion. It's as if he carries the weight of countless questions, yet only one manages to escape his lips, spoken in the gentlest of tones, "Hey, Y/n. I understand you're busy, but... Would you mind sending me a text later, when you're free? I'd like to talk it over."

You're not sure what 'it' is, but you nod.

When Ferran questions you about it, you admit that you're not even sure what Ferran's friend meant, but you feel nervous and excited about it at the same time.

Later, in the evening, you do text Pedri, telling him you can talk now. And he immediately asks if you'd like to come over to his house for dinner.

You say yes.

He tells you when he'll pick you up.

And you spring up off the coach, a strange hyper-excitement suddenly filling you. You go to your room and fix up your hair and makeup nicely. Nicer than you usually do. But of course, you always do that for Pedri. By the time you're done, the doorbell rings. You slip on your shoes and open the door, and there's Pedri.

His hair is a little messier than usually, strands falling over his forehead, but you find that cute. In the glow of the porch light, his very dark brown eyes shine, and he looks angelic. His cheeks and lips are a light pink color, and he's clean-shaven. He wears a navy blue hoodie, black sweatpants, and black gloves on his hands. You smile. He looks so comfy! "Are you chilly?" you ask.

He smiles back. "A little... Anyway, want to come to my car?"

"Well, have you started making dinner at your house yet? Because if not, we can just stay here...?"

He nods, looking (strangely) a little relieved by this suggestion. "Yeah, I haven't started on dinner yet. Maybe we should just stay here?"

You nod, opening the door wider for him. You walk in together, and he slips off his shoes as you say, "I'll just put a pizza in the oven. You can just go in the sitting room and wait for me."

He nods with a little smile and does just that.

You're fairly quick with the pizza.

And when you come back to the sitting room and see Pedri sitting there all comfortable, the thing you want most to do is sit down right next to him on the big grey couch and cuddle up. But instead, you walk to the blue chair on the other side of the coffee table and sit down on that.

But you're surprised when Pedri shakes his head. "No, no. You can sit next to me." He pats the spot, right next to himself.

You swallow but nod and sit down, still making sure you don't touch.

But Pedri wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer to his side, and gently prods your head to rest on his shoulder. You're feeling flustered now as you mutter, "Pedri...?" For such a long time, there's been such a distance between the two of you, and you're assuming that's because he didn't want you to think he liked you. He wanted to keep those boundaries.

Now, as he gently rests his head by the top of yours, all of that is gone. He whispers softly, "I've just missed you, Y/n. A lot."

You swallow and mutter, "But I see you weekly, at least."

He nods slowly, but then says, "But I miss talking with you, being able to touch you, and hold your hand." He gently takes your hand.

With every word from him, your face heats up furthermore. Would a friend really say thing like that? Friends don't talk like that, do they?

Well, Ferran sure doesn't.

You entwine your fingers, slowly, around his, and as if reading your mind, he asks, "So... How's Ferran?"

You look up in confusion, meeting his eyes. Your faces are so close... "You know. You spend more time with him than me, still. It's not like my whole life is centred around Ferran Torres. If anyone's was, that'd be sad for them," you chuckle, teasing your friend.

Pedri chuckles and says, "Wow. That's harsh. But, no, I mean, like, your... relationship with him." He seems to be choosing his words very carefully.

You blink in puzzlement. "It's... fine. We get along great..."

Pedri sighs, seems to consider something, and then finally says, "Alright... I guess I'll just ask it straight-out then." He swallows and says much softer, "So... are you and Ferran dating...?"

Your eyes widen. You open your mouth, close it, and then open it again to say, "No. Not at all. I don't like him that way, and I don't think he likes me that way, but if he did, I'd say no."

"Much like how I said no, huh?" he mutters.

You stare at him blankly, and you feel a little hurt, but nod. "I... I guess so..."

Suddenly, in the other room, the timer starts going off, indicating that the pizza has finished cooking. You rise slowly and stiffly, utterly perplexed about what on earth Pedri is trying to accomplish in this conversation, yet completely sure what it is doing is absolutely messing with your head.

When you come back with the pizza and two plates, Pedri grabs your hand and practically pulls you back down to sit next to him again. He wraps his arm around your back as you give yourself and him each a piece, feeling strange. He finishes his portion quickly, which compels you to do the same. Once he's finished, he thanks you, saying it was delicious, before a slightly awkward silence settles in once again.

Pedri slowly sets his plate down on the coffee table, before looking at you again, locking eyes. He hesitates, before asking, "So... do you still feel the same way about me?"

You nod slowly, blushing. "Yeah..."

He nods back, before murmuring, "What would you do if I said I feel the same way?"

Your heart skips a beat, but your eyebrows crinkle together. "If you do, then..."

"Then why didn't I say it when you confessed it to me?"

You nod. "R-Right. Exactly."

He sighs. "I don't know... It's just- I didn't know. I thought this was just a friendship, and that I didn't need a relationship any deeper. I was happy with what we had and didn't want to change it, and any feelings I had for you I honestly ignored because I didn't want to feel that way... I wanted to just be friends. But then you said it and I didn't accept it and we grew apart because I was confused and didn't know how to deal with any of these emotions... And then you started to get closer with Ferran, and even hanging out with him more than with me, and... Honestly, Y/n, I felt jealous. I had no reason to, because I was the one that rejected you, but as soon as I saw that, I thought 'No, that's Y/n. I'm the one who should be spending that time with her. I'm the one who has known her for years.' And then I started thinking maybe I really do like you back, and the only thing that could make stupid me realize it is when we started growing apart and you started spending a bunch of time with some other guy. Even if the 'other guy' is one of my best buddies."

It's a strange feeling, because you're shocked, happy, and also your head is spinning and your stomach is absolutely full of butterflies. You swallow, and at first when you try to speak nothing comes out, but on the second try you manage to murmur, "So..." you squeeze his hand. "Does that mean you'll give me a shot...?"

He nods right away, and suddenly pulls you into a hug. He wraps his arms around your back, you can feel his muscles, despite the gentleness of the touch. The smells of his cologne fills your nostrils, and it feels familiar, like home. He pulls you closer to himself, gently rubbing your back, holding you closely. You let your head snuggle into his shoulder, and he whispers in your ear, "Yes, please... I'd love that. I missed you so much..."

For some reason, you feel yourself getting a little emotional. You sniff and mutter, "Pedri, I missed you too. I'm so glad you made up your mind about me..." You giggle a little, trying to push away the strange tearful feeling coming on.

When you finally, slowly lean away from the hug, your hand rest against Pedri's chest, and he looks at you with the most shining, happy, contented eyes you've ever seen. It makes you feel warm inside. He gently kisses your cheeks, which makes you smile and blush, before pulling you close to him again for more cuddles.

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[mywrittengartgallery]

PEDRI -Elle a brisé son coeur sur moi

Words : 18,5k+

Warning : heavy angst, mention of depressed states, drug/alcohol use, mention of addictions

Summary : Pedro is losing himself, accepting the bone crushing feeling you would inflect on him because you had broken your heart, and he was on the receiving end of it. 

☁️ 

“Fuck, Pedri!” shouted Pablo as he threw his hands in the air, an annoyed expression stuck on his face. It wasn’t his first complaint of the day towards the midfielder and he was beginning to get fed up with the older’s lack of involvement in today’s training. Pedro nodded and went back to his former spot, tugging at his yellow bib as if the fabric was uncomfortable. He had lost the ball, offered an easy point to the other team, but he hadn’t seemed fazed by it one bit, which was unusual. Even if Pedro wasn’t the most demonstrative person and was actually from a calm nature, he would still let his frustration sip out with a grimace or a groan. None of it had happened today, not even the rise of a brow. And this indifference, that the islander was showing, just added to Pablo’s irritation, while the older was calm, the Sevillian was everything but that. He lived football through passion, even during practices, and someone not giving their whole was unbelievable to him. Especially if this person was Pedro. It was unusual and he probably should have questioned it, but he was young and he favored his bold angriness over some psychological reflection.

Robert passed the ball to Gavi, starting the game again. Pablo dribbled past Jules and he was finally near the goal, eyeing Marc-André with a quirk in his brow. Alejandro was coming onto him, he knew a tackle was also coming. He couldn’t keep the ball so he looked around, as fast as he could and caught a glimpse of Pedri who had miraculously gotten the memo. He passed him the ball, avoiding Balde’s tackled in a same movement. he sighed, happy with his strategy. However, it quickly faded when Jules tackled Pedro and stole the ball, now sending it to one of his team’s players. Pablo didn’t really care at this point, he was seeing red. It would be the third goal conceded to the other team thanks to Pedri. He huffed, and stomped towards the older who was still lying on the ground, grass staining his kit.

“What the fuck?” he attacked, looking down without an ounce of pity in his eyes. He hated losing, even though he knew it was only some practice and it wouldn’t mean anything at the end of the day, he hated the feeling of not being enough. And his team was an extension of himself, therefore he hated his team losing. He normally wouldn’t actually be this pressed but Pedri had gotten way too much on his nerves since this morning, and the cold weather wasn’t helping at all.

“Try to focus, you are playing like a fucking toddler!” he added, crossing his arms on his chest. Pedri had finally gotten up, his fists hidden under his sleeves.

“Stop screaming, you psycho...” he said, low tone and empty eyes looking right at Pablo. Pedro was ready to leave him right here and finally do something productive, or at least more productive than being screamed at by a boy two years younger than him. But the strong grip on his wrist prevented him from doing so.

“I’m the psycho?” Gavi asked, offended. “You are the one who’s not taking it seriously while it’s your damn job, Pedro! You are the one who put zero effort in this fucking training and acts like it’s fucking normal while it should be your fucking passion!” he was really working himself up on this, but Pedri’s behavior had been too much and Pablo couldn’t recognize him. “You are the fucking psycho!”

Pedro huffed and also crossed his arms over his chest, creating a barrier between himself and the younger. His brows had furrowed a long time ago and the blush he would normally sport thanks to the effort he would put in football was replaced by an angry red that was the telltale of the fuming rage he was feeling.

“You don’t even know what psycho means, Pablo! I did nothing that would make me a psycho, you on the other hand... You have been screaming hysterically for hours now, acting like a damn child throwing a tantrum. For what? For just some football! There are other things in life than football, maybe you should get your head out of your ass and take in your surroundings. And maybe buy a fucking dictionary?” alright he had mixed things up in his rant but god, he hated being on the receiving hand of harsh criticism. Pablo had been poking at him since they had arrived at training, telling him he did this or that wrong, that he wasn’t pushing himself like he should and it had just piled up. Pedro was suffocating under all of that. Of course, he knew he had been doing everything wrong from the moment he woke up to this moment right now, he knew he was somehow lethargic and it seemed like he couldn’t care less. But hearing it from the younger, he didn’t know why, he couldn’t take it. And if Pablo wanted to be childish, then Pedro would be.

“If you have to buy a dictionary for you to be relevant, then it means your football is not enough for the team. You are not doing enough!” the younger’s anger wasn’t dissolving anytime soon, everyone could see it. That’s probably why Robert tried to pull Pablo away, asking him to calm down with a firm voice. Pablo didn’t seem to care, too agitated to actually understand what the Pole was telling him. He wasn’t used to be this angry, especially against Pedri. The other had always made sure to deflate the situation, to keep Pablo calm even when they were fighting. Pedro hadn’t today. He had pushed Gavi further, and Pablo wasn’t sure where he was standing now, how to regulate his emotions.

‘You are not doing enough’ that’s the words Pedro had whispered back, feeling his world crumble because how could it not? His best friend had thrown the words that were the main insecurity in Pedri’s mind: not being enough, not doing enough, not meeting people’s expectations. His breath was caught in his throat and every voice around him were muffled by his own train of thoughts. He was not enough, he was doing everything wrong and hearing it only confirmed what he had been thinking for a few days now.

Pedro wasn’t reacting anymore, he hadn’t responded to Gavi, neither had he flinched when Sergio had put his hand on his shoulder. On the outside, he looked as stoic as one could, eyes completely void of emotions, everything perfectly concealed inside him. His fists had even loosened just like his frown. Maybe they should be worried at how well the Canarian was able to hold everything together, but no one noticed, no one cared about that. The fight was the only thought around the pitch.

“Pablo, watch your mouth! And please, learn how to manage your anger, we cannot have problems like that again!” said Xavi, who had finally taken things in hands. His gaze was strong as he looked deeply angry at Gavi. It looked like he wanted to add something, but thought better of it and kept his mouth shut. The coach nodded at Robert so the Pole could take Pablo somewhere else, probably at another practice spot. As he let out a sigh, the legendary midfielder turned around while pinching the bridge of his nose. He took a deep breath and looked at Pedro.

“He is right about one thing... You haven’t been great today. I usually expect more of you, Pedro. I will let it slide because a bad day can happen, but tomorrow you are at your top form.” Disappointment was sipping out of Xavi, rolling down his figure to come crashing against Pedri like hard waves, hitting him right where it hurt. He hadn’t found his words back, everything stuck in his pharynx. The only thing he was able to do was looking down, hands clasped behind his back as he took in every word, repeating them in his mind like a sermon he would have heard at church.

And that’s how Pedro went through the rest of training: on shaky legs and short breath. He wouldn’t talk to anyone, scared that his voice would break, and he would only look at his shoes because he knew that if he met anyone’s eyes, especially the caring ones, salty water would escape from them. So, he had closed himself off, shutting the world out and focused on football, counting the minutes until this hell would end.

---

Then he was home. His home dipped in silence. No lights could be seen, just the streetlights trespassing inside to create shadows on the floor. He felt cold like that, not recognizing his own place, so he quickly switched the lights on. He noticed that no shoes other than his littered the entry, no coat thrown on the couch, no food or drinks discarded on the kitchen island. That could mean two things and he wasn’t sure which one he favored. With these thoughts running a hundred miles an hour in his mind, he went up, making sure his stairs wouldn’t crack and waited in front of a closed door, in silence. Always. He had to calm himself down because he was working himself up and nothing good could come out of it. He took a shuddery breath and finally found the courage to open the seemingly heavier door than the day before.

What he saw was exactly what he had imagined. How could he still be disappointed when every time it was the same thing?

He sighed and slowly came closer, delicately placing one of your stray strands behind your ear to have a look at your face. Your mascara had been smudged, staining your normally rosy cheeks with its dark umbra. The deep frown you were sporting had seemed like a permanent thing for a while now and, even in your alcohol induced sleep, it wouldn’t leave. His insides churned at the thought, because nothing seemed to erase it, not even all his efforts. It wasn’t enough.

After another shaky breath, the midfielder tore his gaze away from your sight, the sight that would bring an unwanted feeling of anxiety, squeezing his stomach until bile could be felt at the back of his throat. He, instead, focused on your shoes that were still tightly tied on your feet, and with practiced fingers, he undid the knots and took the pair of sneakers off, quietly deposing them next to him. Then, he tried to shake you awake, eyes fixed on your shoulder, he wanted you to catch a sliver of consciousness so he could take off your coat and put you under the thick covers of his bed. But you wouldn't budge, it must have been an especially hard night, he thought. So, he did it all without your help, moving you around like a rag doll, blinking tears away when he would see your head loll a little. When he was done, he left for the bathroom to bring a blue basin that had whitened because of the bleach it would often meet. The corrosive substance used to disinfect the plastic material but mostly to get rid of the putrid smell that would float around. He had set the blue recipient on the floor, on your side of the bed and made sure that you were lying on your side, facing it. That’s how he left you, making sure to not fully close the door so he could hear if anything was going on, and stepped in the living room.

Everything seemed so cold and even with the TV on, Pedro felt as if a thick darkness was surrounding him. The sound was off, figures moving around the screen in total silence as lights changed from cold to warm to electric then back to cold. It reflected on the youngster’s face, highlighting the deep hollows under his dark eyes. It took just enough of Pedro’s attention to soften the edge that was poking at him. Just enough for him to not be entirely consumed by his intrusive thoughts that seemed to linger longer and longer every time. A kiss was shown under an orange sunset, them on the rooftop of some city: the girl had the most loving smile he had seen in a while and the man looked shy, blush high on his cheeks. He wanted to hate this scene, to resent it even, but he couldn’t even muster that.

Then he heard it, the wrenching sounds coming out of your throat followed by gags. He wasn’t even sure of how long it had lasted, time notion slipping right through his fingers, him unable to grasp at it. He just knew that when your session had been done, long seconds of silence had plagued the room before your sobs had resonated. It hadn’t been near as loud as the noises you had let out before, but it was harder for Pedri to hear. He unconsciously bit his lower lip as he stood up, turning off the TV and going up the stairs. He wasn’t even aware of his movements, too used to this charade. He could have predicted your curled up figure on the bed, your head tucked against the crook of your arm and tear tracks crackling on the skin of your cheeks. A bit of drool mixed with the acidic vomit caked the corner of your mouth because you hadn’t cared enough to wipe it. You hadn’t even registered his presence, even though he had slid under the covers, spooning you as he whispered words of affection. He had only one goal, it was soothing you. He would try until he would fall asleep of exhaustion.

---

The door on the passenger’s side slammed, making the small Mini Cooper tremble with the force of it. Pedro only rolled his eyes at his friend’s antics and sighed, before starting the car while Gavi fiddled with his seatbelt. It was raining hard, offering an easy way out for the two Barca’s midfielders as practically no fans were waiting for them. And even though he felt awful to think that, Pedro was glad to be left alone today, no touching, no screeching and no cameras in his face, catching his deep dark circles.

“So Fifa, is it?” asked the Sevillian. His tone was light, clashing with the mess of feelings spreading through Pedro’s chest. He was also glad for that, for Gavi. He wasn’t even aware of how much his cheerfulness meant to the older, how much he needed it to stay grounded. But Pedro wouldn’t tell him, not when it meant telling more to him. It was not his place, he thought. So, as he had been doing a lot recently, he kept his mouth shut and nodded, flashing a small smile in his direction. Gavi accepted it and toyed with Pedro’s playlist, trying to find anything that would suit his taste.

That’s how they found themselves on the road, stopping at red lights and starting again when the lights turned green, under the heavy droplets of water that fell with an incredible speed. Pedri wanted nothing more than to get to his house and make himself comfortable on his couch, Gavi next to him, screaming about his loss. A faint grin appeared on his lips when he thought about the moment, it felt so familiar, he was used to it and he couldn’t wait to live it once more. To beat the shit out of Pablo on the screen and annoy him while the other would whine and pout like a child. The lightheartedness of the situation made him dizzy, because he felt like it had been decades since he had spent a night with his friends, doing things without caring of tomorrow. His insides were trembling with impatience.

“I practiced, so don’t be too surprised if you lose Pedri!” Pablo was bathing in cheekiness, throwing it at the older without a care. But deep inside, he knew he would lose, because it really wasn’t Gavi’s thing, however, he felt the need to put a show on. Whatever work he would put in, the results would remain the same. It was all it took for Pedro’s former grin to widen and squint his eyes.

“Stay humble, it will soften the blow when I’m going to destroy you...” he retorted, avoiding a quick jab from the younger. He stifled a laugh because of how easy it was to rile up the other.

However, his smile faded as fast as the rain washed chalk drawings off on concrete, when an incoming call appeared on his Bluetooth station. The name, all too familiar, glaring at him, daring him to pick up. He really didn’t have another choice, so with a wide intake of air, he pressed the green emoticon and answered the phone, getting ready for whatever was to come, whatever Pablo would hear.

“Pedro?” Isabela’s voice was unsure, like saying his name was already the hardest thing to do. He knew she knew. He knew that she was aware of how much she had been asking of him lately, he knew that she knew she was putting another stone on the already shaky pile.

“Yeah?” he responded, with fake assurance. It was just an image to maintain for the moment.

“Could you come? It’s like last time...” and the strength in her words diminished after every words. He understood with ease what she was talking about. Without any further information, he turned left on the next intersection, avoiding the confused gaze of Pablo on him.

“She would probably feel better with you...” and he hated those words, the ones she felt obligated to add. Because he knew there was a deep truth to them, but he also knew that wasn’t all. He knew that it would be easier on everyone to come and get you. Easier on everyone but him. He gulped, nodding slightly but she couldn’t see him, and he wasn’t trusting his voice to not break so he kept his mouth tightly shut and hung up, not adding anything to what had already been said.

In the eyes of Pablo, the older had shut off, harboring a cold demeanor that hadn’t been there minutes ago. His eyes had become darker, steelier, as if he had built a wall around himself, so high he wasn’t sure how someone could see past it. And it worried the Sevillian. Pedri wasn’t the type to be this closed off, especially with him, even when they fought. There would be screams, harsh words and sarcasm to top it all, but silent treatment wasn’t one of their things. And when one of them was upset with something, they would talk it out. Pablo wasn’t sure how he should act with this Pedro, this Pedro that he didn’t know and had never met.

“What’s going on?” he dared to ask when he had not recognized the road they were taking. His voice had been soft, trying to not set off the older.

“Y/N doesn’t feel well, so I’m picking her up.” and that’s all the Canarian said. Not elaborating on the true reason he had to pick you up. Many questions were bursting into Gavi’s brain, but he couldn’t ask. He knew it wasn’t the moment, and he wouldn’t get answers anyway. In the end, he would see by himself what was going on when they would arrive.

That’s how a tense silence filled the car, putting Pablo on edge and making Pedro slightly panic. The sky was becoming darker, minutes passing, buildings changing colors under the downpour, people rushing to keep themselves dry, streetlights turning on. Then the car had stopped. In total silence, Pedro had unfastened his belt and put his hood up, opening the door. Pablo wasn’t sure what he should do, not even knowing where Pedro had brought him. He wasn’t familiar with his actual surrounding, no buildings looked like ones he had seen before and it was nowhere near where you lived. So, he had stayed inside, watching as Pedro took quick steps towards the entrance, getting drenched. Something wasn’t adding up.

And things felt even weirder when he saw Pedro exiting the building with you under his arm, trying to hold you up in a straight position. You were laughing under the rain, tripping over your own feet while making him lose his trajectory. The window was blurred with water, so Pablo couldn’t quite grasp Pedro’s expression, but the older didn’t seem as enthusiast as you. When the both of you got close enough, Pedro reached out to open the backseats door, while you leant against the green car. If the Canarian hadn’t had the fastest reflexes, you would have fallen in a dirty puddle: water mixed with fuel and dead leaves. He had slid his arm around your waist, bringing you against his side. You giggled, throwing your head back as if this had been the funniest thing you had lived. And that placed a smile on Pablo’s lips, your happiness contagious. Pedro had settled you in the back seat, fastening your belt and throwing your bag next to you. No words had been uttered.

You would spurt nonsenses at the back, gaining laughs from the youngest midfielder. The drunk-you was the funniest thing he had been blessed to see, thought Pablo as you explained another dumb thing that your mind had created. However, entranced by your idiocy, he hadn’t seen the way your boyfriend hadn’t reacted to anything that had left your mouth, not even a rise of a brow.

A light suddenly turned red, forcing Pedro to brake forcefully. Everyone in the car was slightly projected towards the front. This had you wheezing, and Pablo following. His nerves were getting eaten bits by bits by the sharp sounds and the puffs of air.

“That was rough babe!” you had exclaimed in a funny tone. You stretched your arms towards the back of his seat, sneaking your hands around until they met his tense shoulders. Your head had followed, making your voice loud and clear to him and Pablo.

“If you could get that rough in bed I wouldn’t say no, the opposite actually!” and if your words were slurred, they still cut right through him, like a blade meeting skin. Bile rose up his throat and if it wasn’t for Pablo’s laugh, he was sure you would have heard his sharp intake of air. “I mean, can you believe it, Pablo? He thinks he is going to hurt me, if anything I just ask for more spices! Like, vanilla is fucking boring...” and his knuckles turned white, gripping the wheel like his last lifeline resort. But no words would come out. Sometimes, Pedro thought he had used up all of the words in the world to say what he felt, there was nothing else out there he could mean. And anger was all that stayed, raging under his skin when he had nothing to express it. It was fueled by every sentence that left your mouth, every giggle and snicker, the outright mocking laugh of Pablo that was there to tease Pedro and his said vanilla habits in bed. And if he knew, if he knew that he was far from the vanilla portray you had depicted. He could be rough, shove you around when you asked, shock you with brutal waves and deprive you from a sense or two when he knew you needed it. It had been spicy, he could explore new things. But he couldn't hurt you, that was a limit he wouldn’t ever be able to cross. You asked for a lot, always more, you wanted to bruise in a nasty way, to bleed and soak the sheets red. You wanted tear tracks and gasps to find the air back. You wanted a monster that wasn’t Pedro, he wouldn’t give you that. So, he would deny it every time, shaking his head and leaving the room if you were too upset to do anything else with him. There were limits he wouldn’t cross, but you would always push for him to do so.

And if Pablo had known all of that, maybe he wouldn’t laugh but he would cry next to Pedro. Maybe he wouldn’t be trying to stabilize his breathing right now while Pedro was patiently trying to keep his calm, biting the inside of his cheek. Only a frown was visible on his impeccably neutral face, the deaf role played perfectly. That’s only when Pablo had caught on that, that his laugh vanished and a confused expression painted his features. Why was he annoyed?

You continued to throw harsh words hidden behind jokes and light tones, giggling and requesting the follow of Pablo. But the younger was now hesitant, politely grinning at you but softening when his eyes would dart to the Canarian. He was more than worried now.

When he parked the car, Pablo asked if Pedro wanted his help to get you up the stairs, until you reached his apartment. He had refused, with only a shake of his head, before gently grabbing your arm and firmly holding your waist, giving everything to make you walk straight, even if it had costed him to bump his arm or hip on walls. Pablo didn’t understand why his friend was so obstinate to do this on his own. It only added to this weird uneasiness blooming inside him. But he hadn’t dared commenting on it, sensing the abrupt refusal he would face. Now he just looked at Pedro, hosting you up the stairs of his apartment once you had finally gotten inside. You would use your hand to hold yourself up against the wall, letting your nails graze the white surface. No movements of Pedro were harsh or rough, only gentleness filled his motion. But his face was still closed off, none of his features had softened since the call. Pablo feared that the deep frown creeping in the middle of the width between his brows would stay permanently like this. He didn’t like the idea, because it would make his joyful expressions less sparkling, they would be faded. He hated it, actually. But he hadn’t said anything as he had watched, standing in the middle of his living room.

He tried to analyze the room, wanting to know if something had changed. something had definitely changed in his best friend’s demeanor. He just couldn’t quite grasp it and it was starting to freak him out. Maybe answers would be there? His apartment was still spotless, nothing out of place. The same pictures were hung on the wall, with his family, with his brother, with his friends, with his teammates, with you. You... He tripped on the thought. Maybe your relationship wasn’t as thriving as he thought? He knew it was healthy to fight for two lovers, it helped to express hidden feelings and to actually improve the relationship. But were you fighting too much? Or Pedro just hadn’t liked you getting drunk at your friend’s place. You were old enough to make your decisions and to enjoy a night with your friends. But the older was a fan of control. He hated losing it and not be able to understand his surrounding or be out of his depth, it would make him anxious the next morning when he would remember things he wouldn’t have normally done sober. He wouldn’t say anything to his friends when they would let go, had never lectured Pablo for getting shit faced at a party. Yet again, you weren’t Pablo. The youngest was sure you were the love of Pedro’s life, you were one of his source of happiness and maybe he just wasn’t used to see you like that. He could understand where his best friend was coming from: it’s hard to let your lover make potentially dangerous decisions, especially if it meant not recognizing them.

However, his thoughts were soon interrupted when he heard a door being softly closed and feet hitting the floor. Pedro was going down the stairs, avoiding any eye contacts with Pablo. He was holding a plaid and his pillow, his lips still sealed. He had gotten used to silence at this point, again, not daring asking questions. The older of the two threw the poor bedding on his couch, not caring arranging it nicely and then, finally, looked up to meet Pablo’s eyes. He had never seen these brown orbs this void of emotions, or drained. Maybe this word was more appropriate, Pablo thought, as he saw nothing inside. There had been something there before, it had been taken away.

“It’s a little bit complicated tonight, I’m sorry... Is it okay if I bring you back at your place?”

Pablo could only nod, he wouldn’t impose his presence to him. He wouldn’t put something else on Pedro’s already heavy shoulders.

“Are you going to sleep there?” and that’s the only thing he dared asking, the only thing that scratched enough the surface to give an idea of the depth of it all to Pablo.

“Yes.” and that was it. The only word that had left the midfielder’s mouth, in a hushed tone, before he grabbed back his keys and went to the door. Wanting to get as fast as he could to his car. Pablo followed, a feeling of urgency overwhelming his senses. Why all of it felt so abnormal. Why did it feel like he was discovering something that had been rotting away for some time already?

He had scratched the surface, now he wanted to dig. In a swift motion, he grabbed the other’s forearm and tugged on it, making hum turn around, just enough for their eyes to meet again.

“If you need anything, I’m here Pedro.”

---

“You okay alone ?”

Pedro had asked that with a concerned tone, worry sipping out of him. Pablo couldn’t hear what you had answered, but your words had slightly calmed his friend down. A sigh had escaped his chapped lips and his hand that had been gripping a handful of the blanket fabric had loosened.

Gavi frowned at those words, looking up at Pedro who was face timing you. He had his hood up while lying under the sheets of his bed. Xavi had made them room together for this clàsico, maybe the coach had sensed the weird thing going on with Pedro. Maybe he had thought that Gavi would be the solution, but clearly the younger wasn’t even aware of how he could help.

“We will talk tomorrow ?”

Another thing you had said that Pablo couldn’t hear. But Pedro had ended the face time not moving, weirdly focused on a spot on the wall. The shadows under his eyes had never been darker, and Pablo did try to find possible reasons that wouldn’t directly mean that his friend had a hard time sleeping. Pedro had been used to the Canary’s sun, the hot weather in winter and so had been his skin. He had probably lost his glow because he hadn’t been getting enough vitamin D, so on his now pale skin, the dark circles were darker, bluer. Or maybe it was the beard accentuating it. But Pablo was aware that it was just thoughts to comfort himself, because he had seen Pedro last year, and the year before and he hadn’t ever looked this tired, this grey. He sighed, and stood up wanting to meet the older boy on his bed. To talk? He wasn’t sure, but the nerves under his skin were pushing him to do something, anything. As he was about to move, asynchronous knocks were heard on their door with what he assumed was Ferran’s voice booming behind it. Bad timing, he thought.

With another sigh, he deviated his former trajectory to go and open the door. Pedro hadn’t reacted one bit at the ruckus. It had made his insides churn, it wasn’t normal. However, he quickly put the thought away, he would have time to dissect it later. Now, he had to manage his older friends who had five years old mindsets. He swung the door open, frowning at Ansu and Ferran who were standing outside in Nike slippers and barça’s tracksuits. The tallest of the two had a wide smile, proudly shaking his Playstation’s controller while Ansu was behind, a smile just as big and hands in his pockets.

“Hello hello, lover boys. We’re here to kick your ass on Fifa!” said Ferran, nudging Pablo so he would move aside, allowing them to enter. They did so, throwing themselves on Gavi’s bed and already fiddling with the TV.

“Eric and Ale should come down in half an hour, they were going to take showers when we asked them.” Added Ansu before turning his attention on Pedro. The said boy had barely acknowledged them, too focused on his phone for that. This had Ansu frowning.

Pablo nodded, dejected. He loved his friends, but he had wanted to talk and get things straight with Pedro, to finally know what is eating his friend away. They couldn’t read a room and he should’ve said something but that meant admitting to other people that something was clearly wrong with their midfielder. He wasn’t sur how much aware they were of the situation, or if they had noticed anything at all. He hadn’t wanted to explain it, in a rush, while Pedro was on his bed not even ten meters away. But now, he wished he had because they were being their hyperactive selves and it seemed like they couldn’t feel the tension in the room.

“Pedri! You playing?” asked Ansu, desperately wanting some sort of reaction from the younger. His frown hadn’t budged but his smile was still there, forming an unusual expression on his youthful face.

“Ask Pablo…” if the other 2002’s smile had slightly faltered, he had tried to hide it as fast as possible. He shrugged, feigning indifference and turning around so he could face the TV. Ferran had finally plugged his controller in and chosen his team. In the end, Pablo and Ferran played together for a while, the older winning easily. Ansu had excused himself, saying they were already making themselves at home in the two midfielders’ room, so he should let the youngest enjoy some videogames. Pablo was far from thankful for this, the older had just turned him away from his frenetic watch over Pedro. He had been so close to prod at Pedri’s bruises, so, so close, and now he was sure he would be back to square one once they would leave. Because that’s how it would always work with the islander: him letting one of his many defenses fall, allowing a glimpse of what would trouble his mind, just so he could rebuild his wall higher, thicker. And every second used to delay the feared conversation, was a step away from the issue.

What Gavi didn’t know, was that Ansu had taken over. He had settled himself across Pablo’s bed, facing Pedro’s, head propped up on his forearms as he analyzed him. The uneasiness he had felt regarding Pedro only deepened the more he took him in. He saw what Pablo saw, the dark circles, the exhausted look in his dark eyes, the mussed hair that would normally fall in small curls bathed in sea water across his forehead, his unusual paleness. But most of all, the constant frown that had settled between his dark brows, how it had created a small crease there, only adding to the pure weariness the younger was displaying. He wasn’t a frowner, nor a pouter, he was so open with his face, giving out shy smiles and sparkling gaze to everyone. Even when he had arrived in Barcelona, two or three years ago, Ansu wasn’t sure, he had never looked so worn out. It had been hard though, he had had to get used to the life in the mainland, especially in Barcelona where everything was stressful, always setting higher expectations. He only had his brother with him, leaving his family and his childhood friends on his small Island, hours away. Homesickness had been the main theme in the first months of his life there and Ansu had watched all of it happen right in front of his caring eyes, the way his smiles wouldn’t reach his eyes, the way he would linger on his phone when everyone would celebrate with their families. He knew how hard it could get, had went through La Masia and had given up on a big part of his childhood for his dream, but he thought that separating from what you had always known was harder the older you got. It must have been harder for Pedri, in that sense. Still, hope found a way to sip out of his irises, reassuring everyone who worried over him. They knew he was strong and was only falling under the long process of adjusting.

Ansu had also been there during the hellish year 2021 had been, for him and for Pedro. The amount of time the younger had spent on the field was astronomical, a little too much for the lack of reward it had brought. All of this for nothing. Obviously, it had taken a toll on the midfielder, how could it not when you give so much but receive so little? Yet, soft smiles and promises for a better future had slipped from his lips, again, reassuring everyone around him.

But what Ansu had in front of him was nothing he had known or seen yet, and he wasn’t sure how he should go about it. Sure, he had been there during these tough times before, had offered a shoulder to lean on, an ear to listen, and had found ways to comfort the younger. But he had never really been his first confident, Pedro reserving this role to Ferran principally, maybe Gavi now. But with the lack of concern the Valencian was showing, he wasn’t even sure Pedro was actually confiding in someone. This thought formed a knot in his stomach.

Pedri’s phone lit up again, deepening the frown already there and this caught the forward’s attention. This also was a new habit, being an awful lot on his phone. This was some type of addiction usually attributed to Pablo, who could never leave his phone even to go to the toilets, but Pedro had always been more laidback, able to separate from it easily. The artificial hit his tired features, weirdly showing off the storm of emotions dancing in his eyes, normally so well concealed. He was typing fast, chewing on his bottom lip while he waited for something, a text maybe? Ansu noted how he seemed to get even more closed off. He hated this feeling of being too far to reach him all the while being so close. When did their Pedro build this high wall between him and them? Somehow, this had to stop and Ansu knew what he had to do. He copied the midfielder by swiftly taking out his phone, texting Alejandro to wait for them in their room, changing the place of their Fifa tournament. Then, he proceeded to nudge Pablo with his covered foot, showing him the text. He knew that Pablo was more aware about the issue than all of them combined. Despite the credit people gave him, the youngest was observant and had set his eyes on Pedro practically as soon as all of that began. Pablo was aware and wanted to make things right again, so Ansu decided to help. A flash of understanding passed by his pupils before he nodded, conveying his gratefulness with a tight squeeze on his thigh.

“What are you both gossiping about?” chimed in Ferran, seeing how Pablo had turned his attention somewhere else, letting him score a goal without a complaint. He squinted at the duo, trying to pry the electronic device from Ansu’s hands.

“Nothing, Ale asked if we could meet up in our room, his lazy ass doesn’t want to come down.” Lying was bad, not in phase with his religion, but he believed God would forgive him for this white lie if it meant allowing some peace to their friend. Well, at least he hoped so.

“Really? But we’re all set there!”

“Yeah, but Ale doesn’t want to play if he has to move around, plus Eric is siding with him… It won’t be fun if it’s just the three of us.” Ferran had to stop there because Ansu was a bad liar and he was not sure he could keep up if another question was asked.

“I’m on this with Ansu, and Eric is the only one I’m sure I can beat, so…”

With the help of Pablo, Ferran gave up and agreed, turning off the TV and retrieving his things scattered around the room. A wave of relief hit the two youngsters.

When both intruders were finally out of the room, Pablo turned around, eyeing Pedro. He hadn’t moved one bit, still huddled under the heavy blankets of his bed, hood on and eyes fixated on his phone. The Sevillian sighed and came closer, quickly snatching it from his hands. This caused the other midfielder to look up, anger showing on his face.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“You need to sleep, you look like a zombie. This means you have to let go of that one.” He said, shaking it in front of the other’s eyes. “I’m taking this up with me just to be sure you sleep. You will get it back when you wake up.” He added, tone firm. Pedro knew he wouldn’t be able to negotiate and he hadn’t enough energy to try to fight Pablo on this. So, he sighed, pissed off, and slid further down his bed, turning around so only his back was visible. Pablo hated doing this, but he knew he was doing the right thing. Even if it meant being slightly hated by his best friend.

When he came back, three hours later, Pedro was waking up. He had tried to be as quiet as possible, but the heavy hotel door was anything but that. Pedro was a light sleeper, Pablo had anticipated that. Still, he didn’t turn the lights on, didn’t talk until he heard Pedro’s voice. Small. Unsure.

“Thank you.” That’s all he had said when the younger had finally sat down on his bed. Pablo looked up confused, not sure what this was about since he couldn’t decipher the older’s expression through the penumbra. Sensing that Pablo wouldn’t answer, Pedro continued. “For making me rest.”

“It’s alright”

Then, silence covered the room. The two were facing each other, not knowing what to say, if there was anything more to say to begin with. Anxiousness could be felt, tensed movements and breath held in. This was uncomfortable and unusual for the both of them. But Pedro was sitting there, head hanging, toying with his fingers, probably hurting the inside of his cheeks with his teeth, and Pablo understood that this had nothing to do with him. That’s probably why he stood up and went to the other bed, sitting next to him. He slid under the covers, four feet bumping together. Everything was easier when you didn’t have to face the difficulties frontally.

“Isabela sent many texts…” he hadn’t brought up the phone yet, but he had to talk about it at some point. Perhaps, beginning with this was the best way to get something out of Pedro.

“Hmm?”

“You both seem close”

“We are not.” Pedro had defended himself directly, slamming the idea down as fast as possible.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

Like that silence returned, sitting there like a king on its throne. Pablo hated silence. They waited and waited. Someone had to break first and the Sevillian was impressed by the way Pedro was holding on, like used to this.

“I believe this has something to do with Y/N… That’s what I meant.”

“Hmm”

And God, did he hate it when he didn’t receive straight answers. But this lack of direct response was the hint he needed to know that he had hit the nail. That’s why Pablo pushed, and pushed and pushed, prodding and toying with words just to put his fingertips on the guarded truth inside of his best friend’s heart. He kept going until the other would break, until the questions would be too much for him. And it had seemed like an eternity before the older let out a faint trace of reality. He had said it with all the calmness he had, concealing his emotions like a professional, explaining all sort of things. Allowing Pablo to meet his deepest insecurities, fears even.

He wasn’t enough, didn’t feel like enough. He felt like his shoes were too big for him, the world too wide and like everyone around him saw it. He wasn’t enough for you, hadn’t been for a while and whether it’s his fault or not didn’t change a thing, he couldn’t do more and you had distanced yourself from him for that. He felt alone, had been left alone in his apartment, dotted with traces of you. And he wasn’t even enough for himself now, unsure of what to do, there by himself. He also knew he was vanishing little by little from his friends’ backgrounds, not being present enough, hiding away. He wasn’t enough for his friends. And even in football, he wasn’t enough, for the team, for his fans, for his teammates. All of that was weighing him down and he was waiting for the breakpoint.

Pablo understood, knew he had had a part to play in that. He knew words could affect someone and he knew, while angry, he could throw them without a care, slicing through the other’s skin. He felt incredibly guilty right at this moment. He remembered what he had said weeks ago, using these exact words to describe Pedro, wanting to hurt as much as possible to vent his frustration. He hadn’t known, never would he have said that if he had an idea of what was going on inside his friend’s head. But these words had left his mouth and had hit right where he had aimed at. They hadn’t talked for days after that, yet it had still been Pedro who had come back, asking for a truce, always the mature one. It made something churn in his stomach, so ugly and uneasy. Pedro had gone to him, put aside his overwhelming worries, just to get his Gavi back. The more he thought about it, the worse it was. He had pushed his friend further down the dark alley the young man had already been pried in.

An apology was on the tip of his tongue, screaming to be said. But he kept his mouth shut, not sure if he had to make this about this fight, about himself. Pedro was next to him, putting all his energy into keeping his tears at bay, forbidding them to fall.

Now, Pablo wasn’t even sure if he could touch him to relieve him from this burden, even a little bit. Touches were his love language, using it to sooth people around him and to show them how much he cared. But that wasn’t Pedri’s.

Pablo didn’t know what it was now.

---

“Y/N...” the way he had dragged your name had you looking up from the couch, brows furrowed. You tried a smile, making it as natural as possible, wanting to ease the closed off expression on your boyfriend’s face. It hadn’t worked. He had sat down on the floor, in front of the couch, but had let quite the distance between the two of you. His knees were up in way that allowed him to circle them with his arms. You copied him, feeling as if it was the right thing to do. One of the right things you could do, for him? Maybe.

“I saw Isabela’s story.”

How much you had hoped that he hadn’t.

Tears gathered at the corner of your eyes when you connected the dots, when you understood what it meant. You wouldn’t let them fall though, it wasn’t your right to do so. Maybe, that could be the thing you owed him. Strength and honesty.

“Why?” the way he had croaked out this small word told you how much strength it had taken from him, he felt drained. He hadn’t ever known how much a word could represent and hold, before.

You were looking at him without moving, trying to swallow a sob that was coming up your throat, ready to erupt and break the silence that enveloped the room. You had no answers, or maybe you had but you refused to force them on Pedro. His ears should never meet your rotten words. It would be unfair. He was such an important part of your life, the healthiest one. He was your anchor, the one that kept you afloat when the waves hit you so harshly that it felt like you were drowning. But every time, he would hold on tightly, for the both of you because, of course, you couldn’t help but drag him with you, down in the Abyss that was the nauseous path of your life. He had never complained, always mediating things and reassuring you. How much longer before you would be the one drowning him?

“Please, YN...”

You hadn’t known your heart could break again. You had pushed him so far, he had to let out pleas. You were a monster, how could you put him through that? Why did he stay? The heartbreaking sound that had passed his mouth was enough to finally let the tears flow, running down your pale cheeks. Your eyes hadn’t dared leaving his, but you wished you had. Because, right at this moment, you were seeing how much you had taken from him. His beautiful, hazel eyes, were supposed to hold the world, shine under the soft sun rays and sparkle at everything. They weren’t supposed to look this somber, like nothing could bring back the amused glint that made you fall in love. They weren’t supposed to look like they had been drained from everything they held, and now only two dots remained on a fatigued face. You took a deep breath, wanting to calm down so you could explain. He at least deserved that. He deserved so much more. Through the tears, you had opened your mouth, working around your abused vocal cords and the lump that felt all too suffocating.

“I wasn’t myself, I was stoned and drunk and he was there.” another intake of air filled your lungs. You could feel a sharp sting on your thumb where you had torn a dead skin, blood circling your nail by trailing down its curve. “I was so lost, Pedro. I didn’t know what I was doing, but I needed to feel something and I don’t know why my brain didn’t scream at me when I agreed. I regret it!”

He had turned his head, preferring the sight of the foot of the couch rather than your curled up form. You were able to see his knuckles, white from the force he was gripping his elbows with. Now, unable to see his eyes, you understood you had lost the right to delve into his soul. It had been only a question of time, he should have taken that right from you a long time ago.

“You have to believe me when I say that! I regret it, I don’t know why I did it! But you have to believe me, Pedro!” and sobs were racking your body, making your voice tremble. You had never been this desperate. You wanted him to know that you were beating yourself up over that. That he was irreplaceable, the most important constant in your life, and nothing that had happened last night meant a thing next to him. You hated yourself for it, for everything you had done. “Please, believe me.”

“How far did you two go ?”

His voice was uneven and if his hands were shaking, you tried to erase it from your memories. Because you couldn’t be the one to bring him to this state. He couldn’t be your relief in life while you were his poison. That’s why you had diverted your eyes, instead focusing them on the fabric of your jeans. It was uneven, or maybe it was the thick droplets your eyelashes had collected that made it hard to see. Silence was filling the room and you knew you had to explain yourself, he deserved it. But you were such a coward, he should have known by now.

“Ok...” and the sigh he had let out, murmured and shaky, made you look up. He couldn’t stay with false information. He couldn’t believe what his mind had created, even though your truth wasn’t much better.

“We... It wasn’t all the way” God, why was it impossible for your voice to be stable ? You hated yourself for looking this weak when you should be the figure of force, you had inflected such pain on him. You should be rotting in hell, not sitting here, in front of him while you knew he was only waiting to understand. You knew he was too good for you, too good to be in your life. He hadn’t moved one bit. “It was just some teasing, with our hands...” you had whispered the last part, feeling incredibly ashamed by the person you were. You were describing the foreplay you had done with a random guy to your boyfriend, the boy you were supposed to love. You had to hide most details, you couldn’t hurt him more. He should never know how much you had enjoyed it, easily chanting a name that wasn’t his, easily adapting to another body. What was so wrong with you, that you couldn’t deny having taken pleasure with someone else while perfectly knowing you were inflicting torture on Pedro.

He had snorted. Had shaken his head.

“Just some teasing...”

"That’s not what I wanted to say!” you exclaimed, seeing how awful your phrasing had made it look like. It hadn’t been nothing. “We didn’t make love, Pedro.”

“I hope so. Making love is normally reserved to the people you actually love. I do hope I’m still that to you.”

His voice had been so cold. You had never heard his voice be this flat, not letting out any emotions. Your Pedro was supposed to be an open book, venting his frustration when he needed to and always having this mischievous glint dancing in his eyes, his voice a testimony of his usual happiness. Your tears had stopped when you had heard his tone, so shocked that you didn’t know how to respond.

“Am I, though?”

The question hurt so much more than everything else because you were slowly becoming aware that your betrayal hadn’t only been a physical one, but you had pushed him so far that he wasn’t even sure that you loved him. However, your lack of answer told him the opposite of what you were feeling. His guard came up, so high, higher than you had ever seen. You quickly stood up, wobbly on your legs and breath short. One step, a second one, and a final third before you finally squatted down so you could be eye to eye. Your shaky hand took a hold of his but you knew he wasn’t responsive. Usually, his fingers would caress the back of your hand in slow and small circles. It was just a dead weight now, one you were desperately holding on.

“I do! I love you so much, Pedro!” and sobs were being inserted between your words. “You are the love of my life.”

The way he had retracted his hand when you had said the intimate sentence, the one usually whispered in between your bedsheets, secured in the dark of the night and only your two breaths present, was all you needed to understand how fucked up all of it was. His frown had deepened but you knew that it was to make the tears pass, so he could go back to being the strong young man, stable and healthy, Pedri everyone knew. He pushed himself up so he could stand, taking steps back away from you. He had never felt farer.

“Forgive me, please” sobs wracked your body. Your hands were twisting the fabric of the dark hoodie you were wearing, crinkling it. “I will do anything, literally anything! I can’t live without you.”

Pedro shook his head, thinking, racking his brain with confusing thoughts. He passed a hand on his face, letting a shaky sigh out before ruffling his hair. Those were his anxious tics, you knew it. His curls were a mess, his fringe sticking to his forehead and with the way some strands seemed to stick out, it was evident he had tugged on them. And that broke you, completely, unforgivingly, shattered your heart and all the butterflies that Pedro had introduced to your stomach. They had all died with his trust and faith. Now you were a shell that had sheltered his love, your heart a Roman pit displaying the remnants of your relationship, buried under months of hurt and distance. You had done this, just like Pompei had shrouded Napoli with its thick cover of ashes, suffocating every ounce of life there was. Maybe, in the years to come, you would find perfectly conserved pieces of what you had had with Pedro, but now you could only see devastations, what you had selfishly destroyed.

“I can’t do it if you’re not there” you had whispered it and you knew, that you were again putting it on his shoulders. Asking for more, taking more than you should ever have in the first place. But how could you help it? He was your anchor, one of the rare things that still linked you to life. He knew it too. You hated holding him with that, using culpability and fear, but you had to. You weren’t sure you would survive if not.

“We never talk about that again, ever. Tomorrow, we will pick up where we were, and this has never happened.”

As his words had left his mouth, he left, not looking at you, never. He hadn’t slammed the door, just shutting it softly so only the faint click could be heard. He had bent, and weirdly, this made you feel even guiltier. There hadn’t been shouts, nor violent movements, just pure sadness in sideration.

That night, you went to bed, sliding under the thick blanket but still feeling cold and you had inhaled his scent on his designated pillow, not messing his side of the bed so when he would come back, he would make himself comfortable. You didn’t want to refuse him his pleasures. That night, you fell asleep looking at your window, trying to see if you could see his shadow reflecting on the road’s concrete, if he ever passed under the streetlight right under your room. That night, you fell asleep without ever knowing that he had come back, hours later, getting next to you but not daring touching you. That night, you were sleeping while he was awake.

---

“Is your brother in town ?” the physiotherapist asked Pedro. The midfielder looked away, his gaze fixed on the space the door wasn’t hiding. he could see the corridor and the staff moving around, his teammates still on the pitch.

“No, he’s coming back in a week I think... He had to help my parents at the restaurant.” he shrugged as he let himself be prodded at, poked around and stretched. He hated this part of his job, even though he knew his body needed it, especially now, with an injury straining his muscles, burning under his skin. The physio sighed as an apologetic expression appeared on her face.

“Do you have anyone who could stay with you? I believe that you can’t really put pressure on your thigh for now and I would be reassured if I knew you would be staying with someone who could keep you still.” she continued, pressing at the front of his thigh with cold fingers. It had stung, so hard, but in a fucked-up way, he relished in that. The way every press of fingers felt like needles piercing his skin.

“I will find someone.” he said, not meeting her eyes, still focused on the corridor. If he had watched her face, he would have seen the deep frown, the worried feeling emanating from her green orbs, everything that transpired concern. But he hadn’t. She knew injuries weren’t that greatly accepted by players, especially the younger ones, but Pedro was usually calm and mostly collected. It was rare to see him so out of touch with his own emotions. She didn’t like it, and she wanted to know that he wouldn’t withdraw himself from the rest of the team during his healing time. She knew how the new generation, Gavi, Baldé, Ansu, him, felt like no mistakes were allowed and wanted to give their best. She knew that an injury meant time off, she wanted them to relativize. It was easier said than done.

She let him off the hook so he could go change, and maybe process everything that had happened and would most likely happen. He had limped towards the changing room, accepting in silence the half hugs of the staff and the encouraging words, only nodding and trying to smile. Once inside the large room, alone, he sighed and began to take off his kit, wanting a warm shower.

The hot droplets of water hit his skin, sliding down every bump and crease, some would trail at the tip of his fingers, holding on before letting themselves fall and crashing against the white tiles. His brown curls were flattening against his forehead, long enough to peak in front of his eyes. He knew the physio was right, he shouldn’t stay alone. He was already mobilizing his thigh by standing there when he should stay sat. But he couldn’t call you, ask you that. You were already a mess, Pedro was the one who was supposed to take care of you. He couldn’t demand that of you when you were struggling so much. So, he would keep you free, and not put something else on you. He hoped that Ferran would be alone this week, until his brother came back, so he could at least dare to ask him if he could stay at his place to keep an eye on him. How was he going to make sure you were safe ? Another worry settled under his skin, it all felt too much.

When the skin of his fingers had wrinkled and the hotness of the water hadn’t seemed to be enough to warm him up, he decided to get dressed. His movements were slow, careful to not abuse his thigh. Socks on, shoes tied, hood up. He was now sitting on the bench, inside the changing room, waiting for his teammates to come back. He hadn’t checked his phone once, not wanting to see worried messages from his parents or pity comments on social medias. His ears perked up when he heard the happy chatter of his team in the corridor. There were shouts of “vamos” and laughters. He would have lied if he had ever said that right at this moment, his insides weren’t painted green with jealousy. He wanted to be out there, with them, celebrating and chanting Barça. He wanted the carefree spirit that seemed to surround them and bath in the same light as they were. He wanted so much, had dared to take it at some point, but now he seemed content with the sour taste of envy and didn’t care enough to try to grab it too. So, he stayed there, waiting for them to burst in the room, all sweaty. And they did, seconds later, with wide smiles and jerseys already off.

“Sorry for your injury bro, hope it’s not too serious!” Ansu said, genuine worry visible in his eyes as he patted Pedri’s shoulder. He had been the first one to come closer, and break Pedro’s bubble by touching him.

“It should be okay... They want to run more tests though.” He tried to show confidence, wanting to keep all of them collected when he was falling apart himself. That was enough to satisfy the foreword who had let out a “thank god” with an appeased smile. He had left to change not long after. And a chorus of the same questions and remarks followed, each by a different player, even Xavi. He answered the same way, for each of them. He knew the coach would have his medical file anyway, they would discuss it later.

Ferran finally entered, a wide smile playing on his lips and eyes shining. His facial expression had softened once his eyes had settled on Pedro’s form, but the glint was still there. he came closer, his jersey hanging on his shoulder. “You good?” he had asked, squatting down so he could entirely face the midfielder. Pedro couldn’t really lie to him, Ferran had been such a constant in his life that he felt like he owed him the truth. However, the words of truth wouldn’t live his mouth, so he shrugged, sighing heavily. The older nodded, trying to put himself in his friend’s shoes, squeezing the other’s knee. He wasn’t sure what else he could add to that other than offering a needed silence to his best friend.

“What’s gotten you so happy?” Pedro decided to ask, wanting to switch topics and divert the attention to Ferran. He wanted to know why he was happier than ever, surely his joy could be felt miles away.

“Sira came to the game and I saw her just before... You know, it had been some time since we last saw each other, so you know... Got me feeling all mushy inside!” he had laughed while saying the last part of his sentence, a faint blush painting his cheeks. Pedro didn’t know. It had been a while since he had felt all ‘mushy inside’ because of you.

“Oh...” he frowned, avoiding the other’s eyes. “I thought she had to be away for a competition ?”

“Oh, yeah! Well, it had been delayed because the weather is way too harsh out there right now.” Ferran had said that while throwing his sweaty jersey on the floor, right where the others were. It had created a pile of smelly, red and blue fabrics, all wet and scrunched up. “I’m so happy man, you have no idea!”

And Pedro had tried to give him one of his bright smiles, he really had. But it had seemed all too hard to do, too close to fake. He had only been able to muster a faint grin. He was relieved to know that Ferran was so absorbed in his own bubble of love that he hadn’t detected the deflect on Pedro’s shoulders. neither the trembling sigh that had left his lips once he had decided to leave him alone in order to get changed.

He surely couldn’t ask Ferran to stay at his. Not now. He had madly missed Sira, always complaining about the remaining days that kept them apart. And Pedro wouldn’t ever steal this moment from him, the moment where he could finally reunite with the girl he loved so much that he had completely changed for her. Pedro wouldn’t dare take that away. It’s okay, really. He would just do it on his own, a week wasn’t that long. He could easily spare his thigh during this short amount of time. He had to plan it all, but he could do it. And a white lie wouldn’t hurt the physio, he hated not being honest, especially with people who were there to care for his health but he didn’t really have any other choice anyway.

He had stood up, readjusting his hood. He was ready to leave, wanting to be as quick as possible back at home to crash in his bed and sleep it all away, until next morning. However, the firm hand on his forearm had prevented him to do so. With furrowed brows, he looked up, finding Pablo standing in front of him, wet hair from his shower and practically fully dressed.

“Wait for me...” he said, eyes boring into his, as if trying to make his point across.

“Wasn’t Aurora supposed to bring you home ?” he was sure he had seen the oldest Gavira before the game had begun, he was also sure that Pablo had told him not to wait for him once the game was done. The younger shook his head while sitting down in order to put his shoes on.

“Yeah, but we need to grab your things at yours, so I’m going with you.”

“What are you talking about, Pablo ?” Pedro’s brain was slow, slower than it should be and he couldn’t quite grasp what his best friend was saying. He had an idea nagging at the back of his brain, but he certainly didn’t want to entertain it. Not when he had resigned himself just minutes ago.

“Well for your stay, obviously. I love you bro, but I don’t really feel like offering you my closet, especially my boxers, that’s crazy disgusting.” and Pedro had still a confused frown etched on his face, eyeing Pablo as if he was spouting nonsense. Gavi sighed, eyes softening at the lost sight of the Canarian. “The physio asked Xavi with whom you were staying. Sira is here, and I know you, I know you would hate it, putting yourself between them and since you aren’t one to ask for help, I’m doing it for you.” he rented while messily tying his shoes, knots weirdly formed but apparently it worked for him. “You’re staying at mine, and I won’t take ‘no’ as an answer.” he finally declared, standing up again to face Pedro.

Silence was what got Pablo after his long speech. The older hadn’t moved an inch, but his face showed how much he was absorbing all of these words. Pedro had thought about asking Pablo, when he had understood that Ferran’s place wasn’t going to be possible. But he couldn’t rely on the younger too much. He was young, so young, and having Pedro staying at his place seemed like a burden. Pedro felt like a burden and he would hate it to be Gavi’s ankle ball. He was younger, by two years, and if anything, it was Pedro who should take care of him. Pedro had to take care of a lot of people, he knew it, and Pablo was one of them. The other way around was barely acceptable in his mind. So, he had resigned himself and decided to not ask, avoid the topic overall with the Sevillian. But he hadn’t thought of how relieving it would be, to not have to ask and to have someone do it for him. Pablo had taken care of him without asking, without demanding of him to make the effort and ask for help. It was such a weird feeling that a thin shin of water had gathered at the corner of his eyes. If Pablo had seen it, he wouldn’t be one to comment on it.

Just like he wouldn’t comment on the whispered ‘thank you’ he had received in the car, when they had collected a bag full of Pedro’s things, on their way to Pablo’s. Just like he wouldn’t comment on why staying at yours wasn’t a possibility. Just like he wouldn’t comment on why Pedro hadn’t even mentioned you.

Pablo had a heart made of gold, he proudly wore it on his sleeve and prided himself on understanding other’s feelings thanks to it. Pedro thought that nothing in the world could be truer than that.

His murmured ‘thank you’ wasn’t just for the coming week. It was for everything the younger was and had done. These two words couldn’t even come close to what Pedro had really wanted to say.

---

“Oh my god, Pablo! How many times do I have to tell you to not leave your shoes in the middle of the entrance!” Aurora yelled as fumbling could be heard. “I almost tripped, you idiot!”

Then she finally appeared in the living room, one of her hands holding onto a steaming coffee cup while the other was gripping her phone and a not so tidy binder. She had her hair down with golden hair clips to keep the locks at the front to get in her eyes. So dressed up, so put together and it was still so early in the morning, well not that early but for his overworked mind, nine A.M was too early, he wasn’t sure how she was able to be this hyped.

“Oh, hi Pedro! Sorry, I thought you were still asleep…” she laughed as she finally settled everything down on the coffee table. He shrugged, straightening a little bit to make some sort of good impression. He had known Aurora for as long as he had known Pablo. She had been such a strong presence for her little brother, always babying him, making sure everything is going well. Pedro would see her at every game at home, screaming and clapping with a giant smile on, probably flaunting her brother’s talent to her friends. Then she would be here every morning, when he would be pick up the youngest of the team, dragging him outside, excusing him to Pedro for his tardiness. She cared so much, and he knew his own brother cared as much, and in his biased mind, he was even sure that Fer cared more than Aurora. But their love language wasn’t as soft as the Gavira’s one. Because a punch in the arm and a teasing remark was the equivalent of a forehead kiss and a hand running through brownish locks for them. And sometimes, he would love to have it too, having these genuine and feminine marks of affection that are characteristic of a mother or a sister. He missed his mom. And he wasn’t sure how, nor since when had he started craving the softness of love, the gentle touches and the soothing words. He had never needed it much before, plenty aware of the love that was surrounding him, but now it felt suffocating to be without it. Like the world was too cold, too hard, too violent to continue without healing touches.

“No, it’s okay, I couldn’t sleep much anyway.” She nodded and moved around, getting her blazer off, tying her hair up. She then slumped on the couch, right next to him, a sigh of contentment leaving her lips.

“Where is Pablo?” she remarked after minutes of being here and not having had a glimpse of her younger brother. Which was weird since she had nagged, the exact attitude that would get him riled up and ready to fight back, smart responses on his lips. She frowned, turning around to see if his jacket was hung on the coat hanger, but the beige clothe wasn’t.

“He said something about seeing Ana before training.”

“Ah, right! She’s in Barcelona for two days, I think?” she said, unsure of what Pablo had told her. “Be ready to not get a glimpse of Pablo the entire time she’s here, this boy acts like they haven’t seen each other for years, when she had been there last week.” she added, rolling her eyes. But Pedro could easily decipher the fondness in her tone. He knew Aurora loved Ana for Gavi, she loved the fact that her brother was secure, feeling complete and loved and even though the relationship was long distance, nothing compared in her heart to the beaming smile Pablo would wear every time Ana was mentioned. She knew they had something solid and beautiful. Aurora knew how to share and she would gladly give up a little bit of Pablo for that.

“I would know…” she had said, after seconds of silence. This had Pedro facing her, confused about what she had meant by that. The girl rose a brow, a knowing smirk playing on her lips.

“Oh my god!” he exclaimed, a weird blush creeping up his neck when realization hit him. The airy laugh of Aurora met his and it only added to the giggling mess they formed, his hands covering his face when he felt like he was dying. Dying of laughter. She was also losing herself, wanting to talk through her hysterical fit but the lack of air made her voice go higher and higher, impossible to form coherent words. There it was, another wave of laughter thanks to her. She grabbed his forearm, tugging at it so she could see his face. He tried to escape, wriggling and catching his breath at the same time.

“Thank you but I really didn’t want to know that!” he said, still giggling. She opened her mouth to respond but she laughed again, slapping his knee.

“You think I wanted to ? It was so weird to hear it!” he snorted at that, making a disgusted face which had her laughing again. They had let this joyful tide nip at their skin, trying to get through it and inject serotonin in their veins, making them euphoric. They were finally regaining their breath when the comic situation had settled, allowing them to stay sat, a content smile on their faces.

“And ? What exactly did you hear?” she rolled her eyes, slapping his knee again. He was sure he would gain a bruise or two by the end of the day if she persisted on hitting him. “No, really! Did it sound fake?”

“Do you think I tried to analyze it? We are talking about my little brother, Pedri! This shit, he already disgusts me on a daily basis, knowing he indulges in these kind of activities makes it worst!”

“You do know that she is not his first, right? He has been dipping his wick for a long time, nothing new.” He teased, eyeing her, noticing the scarlet color on her cheeks.  Oh, what a great audience she was, so receptive and ready to pounce. A Gavira, he would say. If he hadn’t known the two were related, he was sure he still would have been able to make the connections.

“Do you want me to puke?”

He snorted, nudging her. Such a dramatic woman. She exhaled with a faint grin on her face, relaxing and looking at him fondly. She was now completely facing him since she had turned around on the couch, bringing her legs up so she could sit cross-legged.

“And you?”

“What? Want to know since when I’ve lost my V-card?” she rolled her eyes, slapping his knee, again. Did she want to injure his other leg? That crazy woman… He really had to stop hanging out with Pablo, he was beginning to speak like him, about his sister. Yes, the younger was definitely rubbing off on him.

“Gross!”

“As if it didn’t cross your mind…” he teased, poking her cheek.

“I was asking about you and Y/N” her voice was above a whisper, soft yet still prying. Never in his life had he felt his emotions change this fast. It was like a switch had been flipped, passing from day to night in a matter of seconds. He knew that she had been suspecting some things, but he couldn’t fathom the idea that she would bring it up.

“We can talk about it” she added, her eyes softening so much that it was overwhelming to Pedro. He felt so much compassion from her and he couldn’t understand why. Why was she looking at him as if he were bound to break any moments? He hated it, he hated bringing attention especially this way.

“There is not much to say, really” he responded, trying to ease his answer with a smile. It fell flat, her serious expression telling him she wasn’t believing him one bit.

“I’m not dumb, Pedro” she frowned but she hadn’t moved other than that. “Why aren’t you at hers?”

He sighed, turning his head to look at the kitchen and the wide window there. He could see trees that hid the rest of the buildings surrounding Pablo’s, big and luxurious. “We are just going through a rough patch. It will get better soon.”

“I believe it’s more than a rough patch… How come it’s been months since I’ve seen you laugh this genuinely?” and he had no answers to that statement. Aurora was correct and a gnawing feeling was invading his stomach, letting the sour taste of bile climbing his throat. If she had remarked, everyone else probably had because sure they were close, but he was far from spending all of his time with her. The idea made his head spin with worry and he absolutely had to find a way to get out of this conversation.

“Look, Gavi actually told me some things…”

“What?” he turned his head quickly, finally meeting her concerned gaze. If he hadn’t felt this betrayed, he might have caught on the frown that had settled on her lips and the nervous habit of hers of playing with a dead skin around her finger. “Are you both talking about me behind my back?”

“It’s not like that!”

“Am I your good deed? So you can feel at ease with yourself, so God can be proud of you?”

He was becoming hysterical, irrational, standing up, so he was way taller than Aurora, so he could grasp a little bit of the control she had egoistically taken away from him. She also stood up, fury evident on her face.

“What the fuck are you talking about? We just want to take care of you! We care for you, Pedro!”

And, magically, those words slightly appeased the wild storm that had formed in his brain. He knew he had made no sense, and the two siblings wouldn’t ever see him like that. But it was soon replaced by guilt and the nauseous feeling of being caught. He was trapped and she wouldn’t let go.

“Well, I don’t need it. I appreciate the effort, but it’s not your role.” His tone was harsh, wanting to scare her away. Hurt her? Aurora was strong and impossibly stubborn. She wasn’t the type to give up because Pedro had used condescending words.

“And why wouldn’t it be? As a friend, it is in fact my role.”

“No! Your role isn’t to be burdened with my problems.”

“So when I told you about being homesick, missing Sevilla and all of the other things that were wrong in my life, I was burdening you?”  and if it had been a game, she would have scored, hitting the right corner, deforming the net while the goalkeeper wouldn’t have stood a chance.

“It’s not the same!”

“Stop that! With the ‘I’m older, I have to shoulder everything and bottle things up because I don’t want to burden my friends who happen to be younger’ trope. Pablo is strong, he is clever even if he doesn’t look like it. He can understand things and be there for you, actually I believe he is more loyal than some of your older friends. You have to give us credits, we are younger, not dumb or too sensitive for life, Pedro. We can help you: you can confide in us and rely on us. You are only punishing yourself by keeping to yourself.”

She was panting by the end of her rant, worry mixing with anger. The sight was so unusual that swallowing was hard, feeling so small under her passionate eyes. She was intending to make her point come across, breaking through his skull.

“Yes, I’m younger than you. But I still see you as a little brother. Is that weird? Is it because you are like glued to my brother or is it because you remind me so much of him? I’m not sure, but I do have this sentiment that pushes me to protect you, to keep you safe and happy. It’s the same one I have every time I see Pablo frown. But Pablo vents, he runs his mouth and can’t keep shit to himself, so I know what’s going on and it’s easy to help him. On the other hand, you are so closed off, Pedro. And I don’t know how to be here for you, because I have to be there. I have to look out for you because how can I not? We are a family, the moment you chose to take my brother as your passenger princess you were a part of our family. Not to mention you prevent him from getting his head chopped off every games. And as a part of my family, I have to protect you at all cost, younger or not!”

He was pathetic. He must be a sight, right? The Barça golden midfielder standing in the middle of a living room, tears gathered in his eyes, threatening to fall, hands trembling with the sick need of running away from a small woman who only wanted to give him the help he desperately needed.

“I’m sorry…”

“No, you’re not. And that’s okay! I’m prodding right where it hurts. But it’s beginning to take a toll on you, you have to let people in. Pedro, please.”

She had slid a firm hand down his arm, grabbing his hand so gently that his shakiness seemed to transfer to her. She tugged at it, trying to coax him on the couch and he obliged because she had poured so much for him. Ranted and exposed her own feelings and opinions so he could find comfort in them. He owed her that. So, he had sat down, not letting go of her hand and sniffing, trying to keep the salty water at bay. After a deep breath, words and sentences he had buried deep inside him slipped out, meeting Aurora’s full attention. The months of hurt were finally known along with feeling of not being enough, never being enough. His insecurities, yours too, the no man’s land your relationship was now. It all spilled. And with a little push, Aurora had made him say what he thought deep in the night, scared and sick of his own need, but never acting on it. He didn’t want to be selfish, especially not with you because at some point he had been sure he would give up on his life for you, and he had believed you would do the same. Before, you would have. But it all had went to hell five months ago, and Pedro knew the reasons, he understood. He knew you had given up on yourself, not directly on your relationship, but it still hurt and he wanted so much to hold onto it. He sincerely believed it had only been a rough patch and you would go back to being yourself, but one month had passed and you were more outside than in your own place, less with Pedro, your home. The second month held hope because you had tried so, so hard to heal, for him, and you were filled with proudness when you saw him at the World Cup, he was shining and your heart had been beating for him. But they had lost and when Pedro had come back home, the person you were was far gone. He had buried his own doubts and hurt to try to keep you afloat, bottling everything up so he could be available. He had had no time to reflect on their loss, on what it had meant and not processing it made the sting come back, sometimes. He hadn’t had a healing touch from you, you hadn’t reassured him or told him it was alright and things would be fine after a while, you hadn’t and he had felt like something was missing. Then December came, family time, right? You had refused to spend Christmas with his family, even if he had told you that it was alright, that last year you had spent it with them and it had been great. And when Eric had asked him if he wanted to come to the new year’s party him and Ferran were throwing, he had denied, preferring staying with you. They didn’t have to know that you had went at Isabela’s and came back around four in the morning, completely drunk and a giggling mess. You had forgotten about him, but he hadn’t said anything. It had been alright, maybe you had needed the time out. But then it had been the same the next Saturday, and the next, and the next and you wouldn’t show up at any of his games and as time passed, you were more drunk and partying than sober and with him. He had tried, he had cleared his schedule as well as he could to go back to your place rather than at his, he had asked his manager to just focus on his principal sponsors and his club, so he could have time. But it had been no use. He couldn’t count how many times he had opened your door to nothing but emptiness. You had said sorry, but it sounded blend in his ears.  Maybe he should have shaken you before, making it clear that you also had to take care of him at some point, that you couldn’t take him for granted. But he hadn’t and it was his fault, really. Plus, he was far from being the one who suffered the most, if anything, all of that was because of how much pain you were in. He had no rights to want to let go and give up on what you had.

“She has no one, Aurora. No one.” His tears were falling freely on his skin, but slowly, the kind of tears that bore witness of relief. It was so appeasing to let go of the eternal pressure that had been squeezing his insides that he hadn’t moved to dry them. He let it be. “And I’m here, crying while thinking about myself. I have so many people who care for me, I have my family, I have Pablo, I have Ferran, I have you. She has no one. I’m horrible.”

“No.” Aurora seemed so confident here with her hands cradling his face, trying to let her sleeves soaking the dampness of his skin. “Listen to me, it’s okay to let go. You are also a victim of her condition, and it’s okay to not know how to manage it. You can let go, it doesn’t mean you are a bad person. It’s not selfish to put yourself first.”

And he hadn’t even brought up the idea of leaving to the young Sevillian, hadn’t mentioned it. But she had and maybe hearing that he wasn’t guilty, that it wasn’t his fault and he had the right to choose for himself, maybe hearing it, was soothing. Because someone knew and understood. He was legitimate.

“If she loves you, she will understand.”

---

The sun had set a long time ago, leaving the city in a heavy penumbra, perfectly matching with the coldness of winter. Only the fog was missing, thought the young midfielder as he looked around, searching for your figure in the street. He would be reassured if only he would be graced by a shadow of you, just the sound of your voice would suffice. But he had been there for half an hour, sitting on the steps of your building, under the yellowish glow of the streetlights. He had his hood up, hiding his face, hands in his pockets, clutching his phone in case you called. You never did.

God, did he seem pathetic.

By now, even the stars were hidden behind the thick clouds, only offering a black patch in the sky.

He sighed, leaning his head on the cold wall behind him. He couldn’t even feel his fingers now, his muscles numb. Numb. Everything was numb, his muscles, his limbs, his mind, his heart. It was like he had been put under anesthetic and the world around him was asking for him to move, to interact with it. He couldn’t, didn’t feel like doing this extra effort. So, he had decided to stay there, limply sitting against the building where his lover should be right now, safe and sound. You weren’t and he had been done worrying, even frustration wasn’t a part of the equation now. He was done feeling, he thought. He knew that it wasn’t true, that he could feel things, but right now he wished to stay in this unmoving side, where the sea was calm and still, where the wind stopped blowing and the Earth stopped spinning. He craved for the emptiness his mind could offer sometimes, the void, even if it meant being entirely disconnected from his surroundings. He wasn’t sure how it was possible for him to dissociate so much, every time he heard or saw something that should ignite infinite anger and wrench, he would put a wall between them and just stand there, reacting with his mind. Doing what he should do, in a logical way. That wasn’t healthy, he had heard many people talk about that. He wasn’t down to a bad habit anyway.

Another sigh left his chapped lips, leaving his mouth in a white steam. And his absent mind was brought back when he felt something bump on his foot. A pair of Stan smith, matching with his own.

“Need some money?”

Your voice had been light, a slight lull at the end of your question which hinted that you were in a euphoric state. He looked up, a frown marking his brows. Your coat was zipped up, showing how cold you were, cheeks flushed and nose running. But something in your eyes wasn’t adding up. They were unfocused and dilated, in a way he had never quite seen. That was probably why he hadn’t responded to your jokes, hadn’t laughed.

“Did you smoke?” he finally asked, standing up as he said it. He was hovering over you, his frame wide next to yours. You were facing each other, gazes fighting for the truth. You shrugged, rolling your eyes. That wasn’t a big deal in your mind.

“Shit? Weed?” venom was dripping from his voice and maybe if you were more yourself, you would have heard worry meeting disgust.

“Weed” a giggle had left your lips. You wanted to rile him up, to make him so angry so he could rough you up. You stepped on the side, pressing your key’s magnet on the door of your building to open it, ignoring Pedro at the same time.

“Oh, at least it’s natural, huh?” how much more sarcastic could he get? You nodded, proudly.

Why were you doing this to him? So harsh in your reactions, that all the worry and the relief from seeing you safe had vanished, replaced by white anger.

He had to calm down, he couldn’t let you eat his nerves like that. He couldn’t let you push him on edge every time, unsure if he would fall or not. He had to stay stable and collected. He had to keep on being himself. So, he followed you, silence filling the space you were sharing as you climbed up the stairs, reaching your front door. You opened it, not caring if he was coming in or not, not even taking off your shoes. You took off your coat, letting it fall at your feet and slumped on the couch. Dirty clothes were pushed on its side, creating a small pile of dark shades, replacing the giant velvet heart pillow you had bought in your favorite indie store. Cups of what he had imagined being tea were collected on your coffee table, the former hot liquid now cold inside the white porcelains. Your bed, visible behind your couch, was unmade, the blanket rolled on the side he usually used and his pillow on your floor with your spoilt blankie. All of the pictures that had been adorning your walls had been taken off, taking residency in your bin, some torn. A weird relief washed through him when the ones with him were intact, under the trashed one. The roses he had offered you last month were still in the vase on your kitchen table, completely dead. The red had turned brown, petals nibbled, thorns robbed from their defenses.

He hadn’t set a foot here in two weeks.

While he had been focusing on your small apartment, you had stood up, opening the window to let the steely air enter. You were searching for something, rummaging in a drawer under your TV. He rolled his eyes, now used to your frantic mimics. Redirecting his gaze next to your bed, where was your desk, left untouched since Christmas. University was a sore subject, one he had never dared bringing up. But he knew, he had guessed you were done with it. You had dropped out.

“Another one? You’re still high from your previous one!”

You had lit another blunt, the acidic odor perfuming the room. A grimace had settled on his face at the sight, the heavy smoke filling his own lungs and squeezing his heart. You brought it to your lips, breathing in the euphoriant plant. “Why?” and for the first time this night, you dared really looking at him, deposing your eyes on his dejecting form, matching his tone. Guilt appeared in your stomach, closing it around its ugly shape. You took another hit, blowing it out towards the window, stealing all the courage the synthetic happiness had to offer before looking at him.

“My mom called…” he frowned, getting closer. “Same old, Pedro, that’s it.”

“Why didn’t you call?”

“Why didn’t you tell me? Getting high won’t help”

You turned around again, now definitely facing the window. You weren’t the most rational right now, but the need to hurt him, as much as you were hurting, seemed primitive. You wanted your words to cut as deep as the ones you had heard hours prior, making him bend over, asking for a break. But you knew he had nothing to do with it, that it was so unfair to him. Instead, you focused on the street outside, plunged in the dark and settled for something you deemed less hurtful.

“Oh, because you can help?” and your flat voice couldn’t sooth what you had implied.

His breath caught in his throat, the weight of the situation finally crushing him. It had pushed him down, applying an incredibly heavy pressure on his sore shoulders. Another blow, another hit that made him stumble. And in this mix of pure pain, his anger, contained for months, asked for release.

“What do you think?” his tone had lowered, calm anger was the worst and hurt you the most. He wasn’t aiming at that, but it had reached a point where the spikes were too sharp for him to raise his voice. Flat anger was the calm before the storm.

“Nobody can help me. Certainly not you.” you stumped out the tip of your blunt on the hard surface of your window frame, turning around, letting your ugly side win. Tonight, you would shred him, making him bleed on your pale carpet. His confused eyes, darker than you had ever seen, met yours and you scoffed. “You and your perfect little life, with your perfect little family, your perfect loving parents and loving brother and your perfect little friends, huh? How could you help?” a giggle, accompanied by a pointed index, pinned him. “You cannot understand and your stupid attempts are futile, they won’t ever help me. You’re just making it worse by always nagging. There is nothing to do anyway, so leave me alone!”

“Nagging? I’m taking care of you every fucking day! I’m the one who has to pick you up every night, when you decide to get trashed, I’m the one cleaning after you. No, I’m not nagging, I’m making sure you’re safe, can’t you see that?”

He was losing his calm, you were close to making him fall, so you pushed, again. You wanted to see him wobble on the edge, catching the moment where he would lose balance and succumb to the ugliest things in his heart. So, you opened your mouth, delivering the fatal blow. “Oh please, I’ve never asked for your help. Don’t blame me for what you wanted to do!” a roll of eyes, the perfect picture of indifference. “Your life is so bland that you cling to me so you can taste a little bit of adrenaline. I cheated on you, Pedro! But you’re still here, fussing over me. I humiliated you, screamed someone else’s name and you did not leave. Don’t you have self-respect?” you saw his eyes darkening, glistening under the artificial lights. But you couldn’t stop, not now. You were close to get what you so desperately wanted. “No, you don’t. You’re twenty, fucking rich, and here you are, crying over me. You could do anything you want, getting shit faced at parties in villas with your little footballer friends, travelling the world and cheat on me with any chicks around Barcelona. But no, no, you religiously follow your diet, you call your parents every two days and you fuss over me. That’s your life. Pretty sad, no? You live like you’re in your forties with kids. You can’t even get angry! You’re a coward.”

“Shut up!” his voice had resonated in your apartment. You both were looking at each other as you were completely shocked by his outburst, yet it had been what you had wanted. He was panting, fists tightly clenched at his sides. “Just shut up!” he got closer, red high on his cheeks and his hot breath fanning your skin. “You don’t want my help? I’m a coward? Without me, you would be dead, Y/N. Be realistic, if I were not here, you would probably have sliced your wrists open already. Not being able to face life without getting high or being drunk isn’t living in my books. That’s pitiful. Don’t lecture me on how I live my life when all you do is destroying yours.”

“You’re the coward, you’re such a coward. You cheated on me, because you cannot love correctly. I don’t cheat because I’m not some freak who can’t deal with my emotions. Be honest with yourself, for once. Admit it, Y/N! You’re fucking unstable, and I’m not like you. I’m not interested in throwing everything away and hurt the ones I love.”

You had never thought that he would go this far, spilling all his swirling thoughts to you, everything he had kept hidden at the back of his head, desperately trying to not prod at it. You had pushed him too far and now that you had obtained what you had asked for, you regretted it. Hearing these words coming out of his mouth, it had hurt, because you knew there was some truth to it. “You really think that?”

After your question, a tense silence had enveloped the room, every corners. Both of you were staring at each other, eyes full of sorrow, unshed tears trapped in your lower lash lines. Even the street had kept quiet, not wanting to disturb the time you needed to process things. It felt like hours, it could just have been seconds, but your breath was short and you were suffocating. A dull ache behind your heart was pushing, and pushing, making a clawing feeling course your body. Was it guilt? You knew you had to add something to this, it screamed for it to come out.

He wouldn’t answer. You knew.

“I wouldn’t kill myself”

Pedro sighed, his shoulders slumping while he let go of one of his dozens of worries. Still hidden behind his shell, the one he used to protect himself with from the prying eyes, the scary ones that would search for his depth, everything he wanted to keep to himself, he had sighed. Had accompanied it with a firm hand running over his tensed face. Then, he had let his limb fall at its side, hanging there without any moving attempt.

“Y/N, I think we should stop this…” he had whispered it. Yet, the words had cut deep enough. However, you would lie if you ever said it was a shock to you. It hadn’t been. You had been wondering for months when would it be coming, when he would finally allow himself some peace. Even if these words were the blade across your skin, you couldn’t even fathom the idea of resenting him for that. You would let it slash, make your scarlet blood dribble at the tips of your fingers while leaving angry red streaks on their track. He could even add salt if he wanted to, you would let him, leave your wound in open air being washed down by the rain. You would let his words hurt you, but you weren’t sure if you could let him act on it.

“Yes, let’s stop fighting. We can discuss about it tomorrow, when we are calmer.” You played dumb. It was always the easiest way to get away of something in your mind, contouring the problem and continuing as if it had never happened.

“No…” His eyes had locked with yours, shining under the artificial light of your rusty chandelier. “Let’s stop us.”

You saw how much these words had also affected him, his voice had wavered by the end of his sentence. You weren’t capable of letting any sounds out, looking at him with a crushed expression because your world was crumbling around you. You were finally losing him.

A honk was heard outside, then an airy ‘bye’ mixed with a feminine giggle. A car door had slammed for your building’s to open, hinted by the faint sound of the digits combination. And here you were, holding yourself up against the frame of your window as the boy who had given up so much of himself for you was two feet away.

“We should break up, Y/N.”

You had nothing to answer to that. He was right, the toxicity that had seeped between you was taking more place each day and even for you, you knew it was the best thing to do. You had to heal, to try to love yourself and go on without leaning on someone. You had to fight for peace and it was not fair to bring him into this, not when it meant stealing his light. You had to learn and he couldn’t do that for you. But it hurt so much, even if it was what should be done, your heart still felt like it had been ripped out of your chest. Your quietness only comforted him in his decision, proving his point. You weren’t fighting for it.

In a haze, he left your apartment. He hadn’t uttered another word, scared to break the brittle agreement you had come up with in silence. He didn’t quite remember how he had moved, if he had looked at you one last time or if he had heard anything, even a simple sob that would let him know you were as broken as him. He didn’t remember, everything was a blur mixed with unshed tears, blocked out to protect his soul. He was pretty sure he had skipped a step in your stairs, wasn’t aware how he had caught himself, had he closed your door while leaving? He had no more control, he hated it. He hated himself.

Now, he was standing in the middle of the street, under the same streetlights that casted a yellowish glow over him, wind numbing his skin. It felt as if the world was falling on his shoulders, crushing him. Everything he had tried to repress while talking to you came back full force, clutching his lungs and making his head spin. He had put an end to your relationship, he had thrown away what you had. It all felt too much, coming up his throat and strangling him. The tears he hadn’t shed finally ran down his face, dampening his cheeks, drained of colors. He was sobbing, not able to keep every ounce of emotion inside. With a trembling hand, he took his phone and called the first person he thought of, the only person who would comfort him without asking too much questions. The sound of the call, right before he picked up, resonated in his mind with all the hurtful things he could think of. Then, the soothing voice could finally be heard.

“Fer, can you pick me up?” he was sobbing, his voice slurred, barely intelligible, cut by hiccups. Fernando could hear him working himself up and he was scared that his little brother was going to pass out. After every cry, his heart pace picked up.

“Where are you? What’s going on?” he tried to keep himself composed, couldn’t risk to bring Pedro to the edge he was already dangerously dancing with. He had already put his shoes on, skipping steps towards his car.

“I’m at Y/N’s”

“Stay there, I’ll be here soon.”

But he could still hear the agitated breathing, the sniffling, the chocked-up whines. He knew that Pedro was heartbroken, had never really seen him in this state. He didn’t need to answers to his questions to understand.

Once his feet touched the car’s pedals, he whispered in the most comforting tone he could muster the words he knew his brother craved. “I’m coming, Pedro. I’m here.”

☁️

I need to say it there, because it is really important to know that. You deserve help, you deserve people surrounding you and holding your hand while you go through the hardships life throws at you. You are not less deserving, less lovable. And you are certainly not a problem. But sometimes, the help you intimately need, is the one coming from a professional and nobody can replace that.

That’s why, if you are the helper, you also have to know that it’s okay to leave. You deserve to leave and put your health first, it’s okay to give up, not on the person but on the role you play in their life. You deserve appeasement and healing as well, you deserve to say stop when it’s too much. You are not guilty, nor a bad person. You cannot be the sole support of someone’s life, and if you can’t handle that, leaving is okay. You can change your role, step out but still be there. Of course, you can. Nobody has the right to blame you, because you did your best and you tried.

Both of these cases deserve love, appeasement, healing, care. Both of these cases are strong, deserving of the best. Every feeling of yours are legitimate and putting yourself first isn’t you being egoistic.

All the love to everyone ♡

#pedri #Pedro Gonzalez #pedro gonzález lópez #Gavi #Pablo Martín Páez Gavira #pablo gavi #ansu fati #fcb #barca #FC Barcelona #football #spain nt #pedri x reader #pedri x you #pedri imagine #pedri fic #angst #TW #la liga #football scenarios #scenarios #fic #football one shot

[cher-rei]

prompt 9 or 10 w pedri 🙏🏼

pack it up- pedri gonzalez [ P.G ]

you and me, always forever [always forever- cults]

pairing: pedri gonzalez x fem!reader

summary: watching the football match with pedri starts off cute, but you've said felix's name one too many times.

genre(s): flufffffff

[wc: 2.5k] masterlist

notes: I changed the plot of this a bunch of times for no reason I swearrr

"amor the match is starting!"

your call had pedri rushing from the kitchen with his hands occupied by the assorted candies that you asked for. he set it down on the coffee table just in time and settled down next to you on the couch, pulling you closer to his side underneath the blanket.

"I can't believe you're making your injured boyfriend run around for some sweets," he said in disbelief and looked down at you, but yours eyes were glued to the tv screen.

this was a match that you couldn't afford to miss, athlético vs barça was not something that anyone took lightly. that's why you prepped a little more for this match than usual and your boyfriend decided to join you at home instead of going to the stadium with the excuse that it was too cold outside.

you didn't complain though, having pedri at home was a gift from heaven but of course you still wished for a speedy recovery and all that... but he was home and got to spend time with you, so it was okay right?

your lack of response had him dumbfounded, he stayed at home for this? he clicked his tongue and faced forward, mumbling about something under his breath but you were quick to shush him.

"shush babe." you softly hit his arm. "you can complain later."

this wasn't the first shocking thing that has happened today at all. just before kick off, you told him that you forgot to put your barca jersey on and rushed to your room which had pedri smiling from ear to ear, thinking that you would be coming out in one of his jerseys.

and oh how wrong he was.

his smile immediately dropped at the sight, not just because it wasn't one of the jerseys he gave you but rather your own, but also because of whose name and number were flaunted at the back.

your boyfriend blinked up at you, and you asked him what was wrong, clearly not seeing an issue. "is there something wrong with my face?" you put your hand to your face, walking over to the mirror hanging on the wall to check but nothing was there.

"uh no," he said through a forced smile. "but there's something wrong with what you're wearing right now."

your head tilted in confusion and you looked down at your outfit, not seeing an issue with it all. your shoulders slumped and you looked at him in confusion. "there's nothing wrong with what I'm wearing."

"last time i checked, felix isn't your boyfriend, i am." he pointed to himself for emphasis but you only rolled your eyes at his childishness.

"are you serious right now?" you sat down beside him and he shot you a look of judgment buy your were adamant on not changing.

"last time I checked you're not on the pitch right now, felix is." you gestured to the tv yet pedri remained stubborn, saying that it didn't matter whether or not he was playing or not.

where did you even buy that jersey?? he needed to burn it asap.

he was upset but all it took was a quick peck on the lips to ease his mind, reassuring him that you wanted to give felix some extra support because he was playing against his own club. and that made sense to pedri, the support was needed and it was appreciated.

so for the first 20 minutes of the game, your yelling was held at a minimum but the closer you got to halftime time the more restless you and pedri got. the team's play was just too messy, there was no communication or stability.

the ball was lost every other touch, barca could barely make it past the halfway line and they kept on passing the ball back instead of taking their chances. it was frustrating, to say the least, especially for pedri because he was supposed to be there.

he was supposed to be running on the pitch, ensuring that the midfield wasn't a total wreck but he wasn't. he just had to get injured again. you felt his body tense up beside you and immediately knew what he was thinking.

"hey," you called softly and flashed him a small smile. "are you okay?"

when he looked at you his mind immediately eased— one look and a smile from you and he felt so much better. sure he was bugged about the whole jersey thing but you still looked so adorable cuddled up to him that he forgot about everything.

he gave you a reassuring hum and a kiss on the forehead before turning back to the match. his fingers ran through your hair soothingly, your eyes daring to close but you wouldn't dare tell him to stop.

it was now 35 minutes into game time and nothing had happened which had pedri scoffing. "I think you're jinxing us."

"as if, just you wait," you countered but he wasn't too sure about your answer. it wasn't playing in your favour by the looks of it and he swore that it was your jersey, it had to be and when he told you that it was you shook your head, swearing that felix was going to score.

pedri was still I'm disbelief, shaking his head until you shot up when gundogan got the ball, choosing to pass it to lewandoski who was already in the box. it all happened to fast that you barely saw it, both you and pedri holding on to each other until the ball went into the net, by none other than felix himself.

"let's go felix my boy!!" you leapt from the couch and stood in front of your boyfriend who sat silently in disbelief until it sank in.

he looked up at your smiling face with his eyebrows raised. "your boy?"

you chose to ignore him and pat the barcelona crest on your jersey. "pack it up, lover boy. I called it."

the commentators were going crazy, everything happening so fast but you were still standing in front of the tv with your phone in your hand, happily adding the moment to your instagram story and replying to gavi's message about the goal.

"xavi got a red card," pedri said in hopes of redirecting your attention away from felix and his goal. he was happy for his teammate obviously— he was ecstatic, but not about the part where his girlfriend was celebrating as if he was her boyfriend.

he didn't know why, but he was in a rather jealous mood today. he wasn't the jealous type, and you knew that which was why you couldn't help but tease him with the opportunity given.

you put your phone back down on the coffee table. "I don't care about xavi right now. this is about felix and his redemption. the clubs redemption too-- but mostly felix's."

something about the way you said felix's name made pedri's jaw tick. it was like a broken record sounding from your lips, over and over again until he finally let up and pulled you onto his lap which had you all too amused.

"do you know how many times you've said his name tonight?" he asked with a quirked brow.

you tried to ignore the feeling of his hands trailing up your shirt onto your bare skin. it was so rare to see him this riled up, this adamant because pedri was a baby. your baby, who preferred to be the little spoon and smothered in kisses.

so you couldn't falter. not now.

your shoulders shrugged innocently. "the normal amount."

the normal amount? as if.

that wasn't even remotely close to what he wanted to hear and you felt it in the way he looked at you. the living room was dark— the only source of light being from the tv that you'd lost all interest in because your boyfriend was staring you down.

his eyes dropped from your eyes to your lips and you felt your face heat up in anticipation.

"6 times," he muttered just above a whisper and inches towards you achingly slow, only to pull away at the last second because second half had starterted by the sound of it.

he pat your thigh lightly and set you back down beside him, your body still in shock at the fact that he pulled away before kissing you. you looked up at pedri with your lips slightly parted, not sure of what to say.

"what?" he asked with a chuckle and gestured to the tv. "felix is there not here. you're supposed to be supporting him."

oh so he was playing like that tonight? your boyfriend loved to tease you whenever he got the chance. he was playful sure but this was a tad bit too far for your liking. anyway, you brushed it off and continued to enjoy the game, but with less talking.

not too long after second half started lewandoski was able to make the score 2-0 , and this time pedri was the one to jump up in victory whereas you just watched him. you weren't upset, not by a long shot. if he wanted to play, then you'd join in.

your boyfriend spared you a few glances every so often and noticed the bit of space that was left between you two. he watched you silently and began to wonder what the issue was and when he asked if you were okay, a nod was sent his way.

ten more minutes had passed with little to no words exchanged and he was starting to grow restless, whereas you continued to watch the match unbothered. if there truly was an issue then there was only way to make sure of it.

your hand was free, resting on your thigh so naturally his hand slipped into it but you were quick to pull away and instead bent over to reach for your phone on the coffee table.

it was his turn to be shocked— his lips parting and a scoff of disbelief exiting but you paid no mind and continued to go through your phone, only looking up at the tv when you heard that fermin scored.

"how long are you going to keep this up for?" pedri suddenly asked out of the blue and your best act of nonchalantly confusion and asked him what he meant.

his eyebrows quirked up. "you're not talking at all and when I tried to hold your hand you pulled it away."

you raised your phone into the air, "because I wanted to get my phone--"

"oh so you can hold my hand now then?" there was a twinge of anger in his tone, it was almost unnoticeable but you caught it and carried on with the act and shook your head to the side.

"I'm still using my phone pedro--"

pedri's body tensed up at the name that fell from your lips as if this night couldn't have gotten any more confusing. he turned to face you fully. "what did you just call me?"

you squinted, trying your best to suppress your smile because you knew that he hated it when you said his name. it meant that he was in trouble which was rare so for you to say to so casually had him panicking.

"your name?"

"did I do something wrong? are you going to tell me that you want to sleep in the guest room tonight too?"

he began to get riled up and it was seen in the way that his eyes began to wander and never met yours. he had officially gone into full panic mode which you hadn't expected at all, so now it was your turn to let up the act to try and calm him down.

your hand immediately found his and you urged him to calm down, saying that you were just teasing him. you went on like this for however long, spewing apologies and reassurance because having him upset was the last thing anyone wanted.

that was until you saw his lips curve up ever so slowly. your blood began to boil in the realisation that he wasn't being serious at all and had you feeling as guilty as ever for absolutely no reason. without a second thought, you let go of his hand and hot up from the couch.

pedri couldn't stop smiling, a soft chuckle leaving his lips while he tried to pull you back down but you already had your phone and started walking away. "baby wait," he called out after you but no second glance was spared from your side.

"where are you going?" he watched as the figure began walking up the stairs, each step filled with more irritation than the last but he couldn't push aside how adorable you looked.

you scoffed. "the guest bedroom."

your answer had him running after you in a matter of seconds, his laughter echoing through the house as he called out your name and luckily he caught you at the top of the staircase. pedri's arms wrapped around you but you fought it and tried your best to escape his embrace.

"amor I was only teasing you," he said in between his laughter and spun you around to look at him. the pout on your face had his heartstrings tugging but you only rolled your eyes.

"is it because I didn't kiss you hm?" he asked playfully and leant down to kiss you but you turned your head away from him stubbornly. did that stop him? not in the slightest, because he opted for the next open space— your neck which had you in a fit of giggles.

featherlight kisses trailed from your collarbone to your neck— each kiss more delicate than the last and placed so carefully to the point where you couldn't fight it any longer and admitted defeat.

"okay I said you won," you repeated but he didn't stop, a low hum sounding against your skin instead.

"I haven't won until this," he tugged on the hem of the jersey you were still wearing, felix's name at the back. "is on the floor."

#footballer imagine #fanfic #footballer x reader #football imagine #footballer x you #fc barcelona x reader #fc barcelona imagine #fc barcelona #pedri gonzalez #pedri x reader #pedri imagine #pedri gonzalez x reader #cherrei rambles #cherrei writes #writers on tumblr #fic rec #pedri

[spidybaby]

Can I ask for part II of "Not the romantic type"? Please, I need Pedri getting some sense and realize that he did wrong😭😭

Not the romantic type | part two

Part one | Part Three

"Ferran!" Pedri yells, knocking violently on his friends door. "fuck, open the door."

"I'm literally with my mom on the phone, what the fuck do you want?" Ferran whisper, pulling him from his t-shirt and making him enter the room. "wait a damn minute."

Ferran says his goodbyes to his mother and sister. Sending them all the love. Pedri was passing around like crazy, phone in his hands texting frenetic.

"What's wrong?" Ferran asks, making him stop by grabbing his arm.

"I fucked up, I told her she was a bother and that my friends told me that I was an idiot because I was with her in a serious relationship and now we're done, she won't answer to me, to Fer, to no one and I can't think straight. This is my fault."

Ferran didn't understood one single thing, Pedri was talking at a very fast speed. "Qué?"

"She broke up with me, I have to go back to Barcelona." he walks over to the door, opening it to run to his room.

"Pedri, there's no way Xavi is allowing you to go back before the match." Ferran stops him, closing the door before he's out. "Wait, you just said that you called her a BOTHER?"

The way Ferran screams the word bother makes Pedri squint his eyes. He fucked up big time.

"I wasn't thinking, and I was mad at something not at her and that was out of the blue."

"Dude, I won't ever forget you if I was her, you literally just make her believe that everything she did for you was bothering you. Do you even understand that?"

He let out a scream, fist impacting against the door. Ferran can't even understand what is going on with him.

He punched the wooden door, once, twice and more until Ferran who was too stunned to react quickly stopped him.

"Joder, Pedri stop." he hug his body to make him stop. "Calm down, Pedri. Breath."

"I can't lose her." he says, angry at himself. "I have to go back."

"No, you're not leaving before the match. We cab calmly plan something that doesn't include you getting a thousands of euros fine for leaving the hotel and abandoning the team"

Ferran won't even let him speak, shutting him down and walking him to his room, he was tired and hurt due to the door thing.

He advised him to go to sleep, taking his phone with him to force him to actually rest. "Please, sleep, we have to play tomorrow."

He forced himself some sleep, not really wanting to keep thinking about his actions.

When the time of the match was getting closer and the team moved from the hotel to the stadium.

Xavi motivates the team with a speech. Asking the players to be strong and to play their best. He notices his eight was down and distracted.

"Pedri, don't be nervous. You will do amazing." He pats his back and walks with the technical team.

Pedri was not on his element, he felt so out of place, not sure how to work with the ball. "Pedri, let's go more up, Lewandowski is asking us to."

When they do, Pedri gets to stole a ball from the forward of Napoli, but his excitement was taken when the same forward tackle him.

He let it pass, noticing that the referee didn't even give a yellow. He tried his best to focus on stealing the ball and creating an opportunity to score or assist a ball.

When the second tackle came from the same player, again he found himself on the floor of the stadium.

He gets up from the floor, mad the other player is smirking like crazy. "Ve aprendiendo a jugar, hijo de puta." He push the player, making him fall. (Learn how to play, son of a bitch)

He wins his first yellow of the night. He laughs at the referee giving him a yellow for that but not a yellow to the other player for the tackle.

Frenkie protects him with his body, taking the midfielder from Napoli away from him. "Pedri, walk away now."

He respects Frenkie as a captain, doing what he's told he walks back with Koundé and Cancelo.

"Pedri, relax. You don't want to get a red."

A red card

If he gets red, that means he has to leave, and probably Xavi would send him to the hotel. Making him free to go back to Barcelona.

He just shakes his head, letting the game keep going. He tries his best to stay away from the forward of Napoli.

He never got more than a yellow in his career. Not being used to fight on the field, he leave that to Gavi.

But when the forward tries to make him fall, he knows this was not only about you anymore. This fucker has to learn.

He sees the opportunity, sliding to "catch" the ball away from the player, making him fall as his feet get tangled in the process.

The referee stops the game. Giving him his second yellow of the match. "Venga que él me ha tirado dos veces." He talks to the referee. (C'mon, he tackled me twice)

"Pedri, vamonos." Araujo pulls him by the arm.

But when another Napoli player decides to push him from the back, yelling at him for "hurting his forward," Pedri turns and push him too.

Araujo is doing everything in his power to keep the Napoli players away from the eight, Pedri got pulled by his shirt by the forward.

When he free himself and sees the ball he grabs it and does a very Koundé move and throws the ball at the players face.

The field looks like a WWE encounter, players yelling, and technical teams are already involved. He saw a red card, a referee pointing at him.

"Pero si lo hacen en todas las jugadas ellos." Cancelo yells, defending Pedri from the red.

He got pulled from the shoulders, turning to see Xavi. "Let's go, kid." He walks him to the tunnel and to the dressing room. "That mother fucker provoked you, don't worry. Take a shower and go back to the hotel. We can talk later." nodding and thanking Xavi, also apologizing for the red.

He shower before leaving to the hotel, running to his room to pick his things. He purchased the first flight he finds to go back.

He needs to go back, can't lose more time away. He's scared you won't take him back, he's mad that he even spoke to you in that way.

The way you whisper his name and the way your eyes were dulled, those shiny eyes he remember meeting when he was fifteen.

Back in Barcelona you're getting ready for a big presentation. You can't let this get you down.

People break up everyday, people stop loving each other, people sometimes hurt you that bad that you don't want to be near them.

People is he.

You love him with all your soul, he was always that person for you, your go to person, your everything is going to be fine person, but that was one sided.

You weren't that to him, he had friends who were more important than you. He had a family that loves him and visits him and you were alone.

He knows you're alone, he knows you can't just go home and have a prepared meal, a person to talk to, someone who can listen to you or hug you when you cry.

He was to you that person you could trust, that person you could cry to, that person who wasn't going to judge you.

But now you wonder if every time you call him about something making you happy, sad, angry were a bother to him, if every time you shared a goal with him, every time you went crying to him about being stressed or just sad were a bother.

Were your presence a bother to his family too? Were their hospitality fake? Were they just faking smiles?

Was he uncomfortable when you told him you love him? Was he uncomfortable with you when his friends were over and you were there? Was he uncomfortable with you all this time?

You can't help but cry yourself to sleep, feeling empty and alone. Being far from home is hard, being heartbroken with no one to talk to is hard.

While you rest on one side of Barcelona, he landed at the airport. Ferran scolded him for leaving without the rest.

Fer was waiting for him, he felt guilty about the breakup, he felt like a bad brother. He knew Pedri was fucking things up, he knew by the look on your face when you two were together.

He heard you two fight, he heard how Pedro treated you and talked to you like if you were nothing.

He never got into that, mostly because the only time he did Pedro ask him to stay out of it. He did, but every time he heard you two, he just put some music or put on a movie.

When he heard Pedro and his Tenerife friends talking him out of the idea of him taking you to Napoli, he just told his opinion about it being wrong.

Pedri wasn't a cheater, he couldn't do that to you and certainly he wasn't raised like that. But he also wasn't raised like the way he was treating you.

Most of the drive home is silent, the discomfort can be cut with a knife. Fer is not even making conversation with him about the red card.

"I need you to help me plan something." He talked so calmed like if everything is cool.

"You're a fucking idiot, you know that?" Fer says, he's mad about the red, he knew he did it on purpose, he was mad about everything. "That red is just the crown of everything."

"Can you stop?" Pedri was annoyed, he's not a kid who needs to be scolded by his older brother. "Don't mind it."

"I've been not minding things for too long to keep myself quiet." He shouts, acting like a father. "You're such a fucking idiot, treating this girl like she's trash for God knows how long, when I told you that it was wrong you told me that it wasn't like that. Then you call me late at night and ask me to help you fix things but don't want me to mind it."

"Fernando, stop."

"No, I'm done with you. Honestly, I hope she doesn't take you back. She really deserves something better. She deserves so much better."

Pedro slams the door of the car as soon as they're home. He feels rage inside because of the words of Fernando.

On the inside, he knows that everything his brother shouts at him is true. He did treat you badly, he did hurt you in ways he didn't even mean, but he did.

Xavi texted him back after the news of him leaving to Barcelona, he informed his coach about him leaving, telling him that he needed a few moments to cool down and take on what he did, and Xavi agreed.

It was almost two in the morning, his plan was to go to your house and talk to you, fix things, and when you take him back, enjoy the day with you.

But something stopped him, he remembers that you had this big project presentation, and he can't fuck up things. He already mess things up. He doesn't need for you to be more mad at him than you already is.

He sleep more calmly than when he was in Napoli, he had a good feeling about the situation.

When the light hit the city, he woke up, ready to get you back and to be the best he could be with you. He has to be at the club after lunch, so he has time to go pick you up from college and to be with you.

You were happy that morning, you did an amazing presentation and you have a perfect grade.

"Hey, Y/n. We're going to go get some brunch, want to join us?" Your friend Pamela asks.

"Yes, I just have to go home to change and I'll see you guys there"

You hurry home, ready to change into your bikers and a t-shirt. The day was fresh, but the weather was unpredictable.

The doorbell sounding made you hurry with brushing your teeth, you thought it was the ups guy.

When you open the door you can feel the cold shiver running down your spine.

"Please, let me talk to you." He steps closer to you. "Let me fix things, amor."

You don't want to fight, you want to get this over with, for once you're not giving up on your feelings with him.

You move, letting him into your house. He feels confident at how you let him in, he knows he can fix things.

"Listen, I know I fucked things up, I know I'm an asshole and that you have all the right to be mad and to want to scream at me. Please just believe me when I say I want to fix myself for you, I haven't been a good boyfriend and you are the best thing I have, you don't even know how much I love you and how much I think about you when we're away.-"

You block the rest of his speech, you can't think of anything else but his own words. "Such a bother."

He hasn't been a good boyfriend, that is true. But you never once told him how much that did bother you because you didn't want him to feel the way you're feeling right now.

"I bought this for you." He hands you a bouquet of flowers.

You smile a little, how ironic.

"All this time, I always wanted you to give me some flowers and you had to lose me to give them to me." You laugh lightly, not wanting to cry.

"What?" He's confused. "But you never asked me for them."

"Exactly." You shrug. "I never did because I expected you to come see me with some. Not a bouquet, just one." You leave them on the table next to you. "But you never did."

His breathing became irregular, he's nervous. "Amor, I never knew you felt that way."

"I didn't mean to be a bother." You say, feeling like being fully honest to him. "I just wanted you to love me the way I love you. I just wanted you to support me the way I support you." You can't help but let some tears wet your cheeks. You wipe them away as you begin speaking again. "I know I can be too much sometimes, but I've always been so proud and happy for you, couldn't you be that with me?"

He can't think about something to say, he's hurt that you feel that way, hurt that he caused you to feel that way.

"I hope you understand that I can't be with you." You grab his hands. "I love you so much, you were my many firsts, my first love, my first time, my first thought in the morning, my first person to go to." You smile at the memories. "But I'm not the person you need, I can't pretend I'm fine just to keep you happy, I can't pretend your words don't hurt me when all I want to do is cry."

"Amor, I'm sorry."

"Sorry doesn't fix it." You step away from him. "I have to put myself first, I have to fix myself to even think about you again. Pedro, I love you but I have to love myself first."

You want to hug him, seeing his red tearful eyes, but you can't.

"You're so talented and amazing, amor mio." You smile to him. "And your career will blow much more than now, I'm so sure you're going to win a Ballon D'or and that so wanted champions league." You walk to your door, unsure if you want to open it. "And I'm sure you'll find someone who can grow with you and supports you all the way, cause you deserve that."

You open the door, moving to the side of it.

"I love you, and I hope you understand that what I'm doing is for the both of us. Have a nice life, Pedro. You deserve that as much as I do."

He's crying, tears wetting his face, heart breaking from all the feelings. "Can I hug you one last time?" He asks as he's almost out of the house.

You nod, opening your arms to him, his hands hug your waist. He's going to miss it, he's going to miss your smell, your hair, your body, you smile. You.

"Te amo, I'm sorry I'm not what you deserve."

"Te amo." You kiss his cheek.

You hand him something, and he keeps his hands closed. He walks away and enters his car.

He open his hand, his house key shining on his palm. It's done, he knows he can't fix it. He'll have to accept that you deserve better.

✨️✨️✨️

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