fedrifan78

[fedrifan78]

this is now updated with all my new fics!

my masterlist.

ao3. wattpad.

all fics are mlm! (player x player or m!reader x player) angst - 🖤 comfort - 💙 suggestive - 💚 fluff - 🩵

blurbs (800-2k words): what the world doesn't know. - 🖤 more than a dumb game. - 🖤🩵 matching. - 🩵 a little jealous, a lot in love. - 🩵 don't let go again. - 🖤💙 "are you ready?" - 🩵 MY man. - 🩵 (+ eric garcia) yours, even if you doubt it. - 🖤💙 scraped knees and kisses. - 💙 ferran's tattoos. - 💙🩵 amore? - 🖤💙 horror game. - 💙 short blurbs (0-800 words): deja vu. - 🖤 magic 8 ball. - 🩵 (can be read as part 2 to ferran's tattoos) full fics (2k+ words): crossing the invisible line. - 🖤🩵 plátano de canarias. - 🩵 (nutritionist!pedri au) six times it was all too much for pobre pedri. - 💙 (mpreg pedri)

blurbs (800-2k words): safe with me. - 💙

nothing yet!

more than maybe. - 🩵

- sofía ✎ᝰ.

[fedrifan78]

I read all the new fics you shared and I loved them all😍 you write them exactly as I imagined them

thank you so much! sorry to everyone that requested and it took so long 😭

[fedrifan78]

hiii hope you’re doing well! maybe as a follow up to the tattoo one shot, something about how ferran gets a tattoo dedicated to pedri but he doesn’t tell anyone and it’s very lowkey and pedri doesn’t realise it’s for him until like one day he connects the dots <3

posted here!

[fedrifan78]

hi <3 hope you’re alright! i was thinking maybe a fic about how a summer/ vacation romance turns into something more serious (can be m!reader or ferran, totally up to you) and his teammates notice that he’s way happier and relaxed after the summer break and try to find out why/ tease him about it 💕

posted here!

[fedrifan78]

this is kind of silly, and maybe out of character, but fic where pedri watches a horror movie or plays a horror game whilst home alone and can't sleep, so he has to call ferran to come and comfort him ??

-🎀

posted here!

[fedrifan78]

hi hope you’re doing fine! i am not sure if you’re taking requests at the moment but i got inspired by ferran’s ig story about plátano de canarias providing ferran’s football camp with their products. what about pedri being a nutritionist working for them and ferran shows up one day at his football campus to surprise the kids but instead finds himself being distracted by nutritionist pedri 🫶🏼

i loved this idea sm!!

it's up here now!

[fedrifan78]

everybody should read it’s literally the best fedri fic I’ve read EVER and it ate down so hard

some shameless advertising: here you can find my first and maybe only fedri work (i’m lazy). it’s a one shot total of 12.4K words

remember when i used to joke about me having like 13 fedri drafts and not finishing any? this is why. i can’t be normal when writing and have to pull 10K+ words out my ass for a simple single-prompt

anyway give it a read if you got time, maybe give it some kudos and leave a comment if you’d like thank you

(for my spanish speakers, i will be posting it in spanish on wattpad very soon!! still, leave kudos on this one)

[fedrifan78]

lowk i will forever mourn the away kit/black training kit because what is this neon purple going on this season 😭

[fedrifan78]

FEDRI IS BACK

LIFE IS GOOD AGAIN

[fedrifan78]

hey everyone!

i know i have kind of disappeared off tumblr, but i’ve been updating a lot over on my ao3!

currently, i have a fedri slow burn and am writing a series about fedri as parents!

i have linked them there if anyone’s interested 💚💚

[fedrifan78]

this man and his girl dad vibes are so damn cute 😭

[fedrifan78]

manifesting pedri with a full beard again 🤞

at least keeping the stubble

[fedrifan78]

[fedrifan78]

do fic readers know that their comments actually influence the course of the story sometimes? i don't mean in a "you need to write it this way because i say so 😡" type of comment, i mean when people are asking questions or really engaging with the plot and the themes in the comments they sometimes bring up things that i didn't even think of, or dig into parts of the story that i've overlooked, or get really interested/fixated on something i was going to just kind of glance over--and it has me going 'oh wait that's actually really interesting, that's a good point' and fully adding or tweaking or changing things about the story going forward. i'm literally adding an entire additional chapter to something right now because someone's comment had me like "oh i didn't dig into that as much as i could have." you have impact!

[fedrifan78]

scraped knees and kisses.

masterlist requested by: @facesblurry summary: after scraping his knees badly during a celebration, pedri cares for ferran's wounds. word count: 1010 genre: fluffy-ish

based on these pics:

The final whistle blew with a crackle of noise through Estadi Olímpic Lluís Companys, sealing Barcelona’s win against Mallorca. The crowd was still roaring, riding the high of Ferran’s second-half goal that had tipped the balance. His celebration - dramatic as ever - had been a knee slide across the slightly too-dry grass. At the time, it had looked badass. Cool. Powerful. Iconic.

Now, though?

Pedri was following him into the changing room, absolutely fuming.

“You scraped off half your knees for a celebration?” Pedri hissed the second they passed the threshold. His voice was low but tight, pressed with that thin, deadly calm that said he was actually mad.

Ferran shrugged, still grinning from ear to ear, adrenaline bright in his eyes. “It was worth it. That slide was clean.”

“Clean?” Pedri stopped in front of him, arms folded. “Your left knee looks like you went through a cheese grater.”

Ferran sat on the bench and started peeling his socks down, like none of this was a big deal. Blood had smeared a lazy trail over the top of his sock, dried dark around the edges. “It doesn’t even hurt, hermano. I’m fine.”

“Stop moving. Let me see. And don’t ‘hermano’ me.”

Ferran raised both brows but obeyed, leaning back on his palms while Pedri crouched in front of him. The left knee was worse, ripped open in an angry strip, skin raw and exposed like pink marble under the blood. The right one was scraped, but more surface-level.

Pedri blew a breath out of his nose. “Madre mia. That’s not fine, Ferran.”

“I’ve had worse,” Ferran said, the grin fading only a little. “It’s nothing. Grass burn is just... dramatic looking.”

“This is not grass burn. This is ‘congrats, now you need a skin graft’ level dumb.” Pedri gently brushed the skin around the scrape with the edge of his thumb, careful not to touch the wound itself. “You’re lucky it isn’t worse.”

Ferran whistled. “Sounds like someone’s jealous they didn’t get to score and do a sexy slide.”

Pedri looked up sharply. “I’m serious.”

That shut Ferran up. His grin dimmed, not gone, but tilted into something softer as he watched Pedri closely. The younger man stood up with a quiet sigh and walked over to the team’s medical kit in the corner, rummaging through it with purpose.

“Pedri-” Ferran tried, but Pedri held up a finger.

“You don’t get to joke right now. You could’ve at least done it on your thighs or something. But no, let’s go full bone-on-grass for the aesthetic.”

Ferran chuckled quietly. “You’re being dramatic.”

“You’re bleeding on both legs,” Pedri snapped. Then, more quietly: “And you didn’t even notice until we were in here.”

“I noticed,” Ferran lied.

Pedri turned, finally finding the little plastic container of bandaids. He didn’t even grab the gauze - just the cartoonish, oversized ones usually used for scraped elbows and little kids. Ferran caught sight of the stickers on the wrappers - little footballs and stars.

“You’re gonna put those on me?” he asked, tone teasing again.

Pedri gave him a deadpan look. “Yes. Because you’re acting like a child, so you’re getting the same treatment as one.”

He crouched back down, one hand bracing under Ferran’s thigh as he cleaned the edge of the scrape with a little sterile wipe. Ferran flinched slightly at the sting but said nothing.

“I’m serious,” Pedri mumbled, a frown stitched between his brows. “You have to take better care of yourself. You can’t keep getting banged up for nothing.”

“For nothing?” Ferran repeated, incredulous.

“I mean it wasn’t a goal in a final,” Pedri corrected, eyes still on the bandaid as he carefully centered it over the worst gash. “It was a knee slide in March.”

Ferran let out a laugh that echoed slightly off the lockers.

Once both knees were covered in slightly ridiculous football-themed plasters, Pedri paused for a moment, then leaned in and kissed each one quickly. Left knee first. Then right.

Ferran’s heart absolutely flipped.

Pedri stood up again, brushing his palms on his shorts. “There. Maybe now you’ll stop acting like a stuntman during games.”

But Ferran wasn’t listening anymore. He was just watching Pedri, soft and overwhelmed and still a little buzzy from the win.

“What?” Pedri asked.

“You kissed both my knees.”

“Yeah, because they’re injured. That’s what people do.”

“That’s what mothers do,” Ferran corrected with a smirk. “You’re being so cute right now and pretending it’s just practicality.”

Pedri flushed slightly, then rolled his eyes and turned away, heading for his own locker. “You’re the one looking like an idiot who did a knee-slide across a parking lot.”

Ferran stood slowly, knees stiff. “So what I’m hearing is, I’m forgiven.”

“You’re not.”

“I am, though.”

Pedri didn’t turn around, but his voice carried just a bit of a smile in it. “You’re just lucky I like you.”

“Like?” Ferran teased, walking over behind him.

“Don’t push it, Torres.”

“I got two kisses for one goal. I’m pushing it all the way.”

Pedri finally looked at him, dark eyes warm. “You better be limping at least a little tomorrow. If you’re magically fine, I’m going to take off those band-aids myself and revoke my ‘kiss-it-better’ kisses.”

“You won’t kiss them again?”

Pedri sighed and nudged Ferran’s shoulder lightly. “No. I’ll let them scab.”

But Ferran could see the grin threatening to take over his face. Could feel the love in every exaggerated scold. So he leaned in, resting his forehead against Pedri’s temple.

“You’re cute when you worry.”

“And you’re reckless when you win.”

“Balance.”

Pedri scoffed under his breath but let Ferran wrap an arm around his waist, tugging him close.

“Next time,” Pedri said, low, “just do a fist pump or something. Run and hug someone. Or, here’s an idea: act like you’ve scored before.”

“But then I wouldn’t get Band-Aids with little footballs on them.”

Pedri shook his head, the grin finally breaking through. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You love it.”

Unfortunately for Pedri, he really did.

- sofía ✎ᝰ.

[fedrifan78]

More photos of Ferran in Ibiza🥵

https://x.com/gossipfcbbr/status/1937632609347207677?s=46&t=cUm7VxyRwaQP1uIJSXZZaw

https://x.com/barcagossipgirl/status/1937639912569741815?s=46&t=cUm7VxyRwaQP1uIJSXZZaw

https://x.com/gossipfcbbr/status/1937645051590640052?s=46&t=cUm7VxyRwaQP1uIJSXZZaw

this is so funny because i was just seeing these 10m ago LSDKDKJDJ

horrible ferran outfit. necklace eats as always tho. he needs to groom that beard better on the top it looks a bit messy. those glasses ain’t it ngl😭 He’s still hot (eric’s titties??? hell yeah)

[fedrifan78]

what about a fic of pedri tracing ferran's tattoos as a way to comfort him and calm him down after a long day 🥰 thank u in advance!

ferran's tattoos.

masterlist requested by: anon! summary: pedri traces ferran's back tattoos after a long day to help him relax. word count: 834 genre: very fluffy

The house was quiet. Not silent, exactly, Barcelona was always humming in the background, but the air inside felt heavier somehow, like the day had laid its full weight across Ferran’s shoulders and refused to let go. He sat on the edge of the bed, shirt discarded somewhere on the floor, elbows on knees, head bowed.

Pedri hovered in the doorway for a second. Watching. Noticing the way Ferran’s back rose and fell with slower breaths, how his hands clenched loosely around nothing. He didn’t say anything at first. He just walked over and sat behind him on the bed, one leg tucked up, one foot brushing the floor.

Ferran didn’t flinch when he felt Pedri’s fingers ghost across his back. If anything, he seemed to lean into it, subtly, instinctively. Like his body already knew what came next.

Pedri dragged his fingertip gently along the top of Ferran’s shoulder blade, where the intricate wings spread out across his upper back.

“Rough day?” he asked, voice low, tracing the curve of a feather.

Ferran hummed. “Long.”

Pedri didn’t press. He knew how training had gone. Flick barking instructions, everyone just a little off rhythm, and Ferran, always too hard on himself, had stayed late to shoot on his own until the sun dipped below the rooftops of Ciutat Esportiva. He came home like this sometimes. Quiet. Worn thin.

“These still look good,” Pedri said, fingertip gliding along the edge of the wing. “You’ve had them forever, but I don’t think I’ll ever get bored of them.”

“Yeah?” Ferran asked, tone dry.

Pedri smiled. “They suit you.”

His hand drifted toward the center, brushing over the FT7 logo tucked between the wings, just below the crown.

“You’re not subtle, though.”

“I’m consistent,” Ferran muttered.

Pedri leaned in, breath warm at the base of his neck. “You’re something.”

He let his finger drop lower, tracing the script beneath the logo, lo intentas, te equivocas, te levantas.

“You try. You fail. You get back up,” Pedri murmured. “You’ve always done that.”

Ferran didn’t reply. He didn’t have to. His posture softened just enough for Pedri to notice. So Pedri pressed a kiss to the center of his back, right above the tattoo of the gladiator, steady and proud.

“This guy’s dramatic, though,” Pedri said, fingertip outlining the shape. “Like, he’s been through it.”

“Guess I like a bit of drama.”

Pedri snorted softly. “No kidding.”

His hands shifted to the sides, brushing lightly over gratitude and faith inked on either side of the gladiator. He didn’t say anything this time. Just left his palms there, grounding them both.

He leaned forward and pulled Ferran gently back, until Ferran rested against him fully. His spine curved naturally into Pedri’s chest, and his head tilted slightly when Pedri’s lips found his hair.

“I know this whole thing by heart now,” Pedri said after a beat, quieter this time. “Every line. Every word.”

“Yeah?”

Pedri nodded, chin brushing Ferran’s shoulder. “Right side’s the brain, left side’s the heart. Balanced, but barely.”

“Bit rude.”

“Bit true.”

That pulled a soft laugh from Ferran, his eyes closing. His fingers reached down and found Pedri’s, lacing together without looking.

Pedri’s thumb swept lower now, tracing across the two bay leaves curling along Ferran’s lower back.

“And then there’s the full philosopher moment,” Pedri said, voice dipping playfully. “Veni vidi vici. You went all in, huh.”

Ferran shrugged. “Felt right.”

Pedri kissed the back of his neck. “It fits.”

They sat like that for a while, wrapped in the hush of the room, the kind of silence that felt earned, not awkward. Pedri kept tracing, slow and steady, retracing paths he already knew. Past the chess piece, the bible verse, the eyes of Ferran’s sister, all of it worn into his memory the same way he knew Ferran’s laugh or the way his mouth twitched when he was trying not to smile.

“You’ve got a lot of stuff inked on you,” Pedri said eventually, his voice soft but steady, fingertips trailing one of the bay leaves again. “Does it ever feel like… too much?”

Ferran opened his eyes, glancing over his shoulder. “Not really. They’re just reminders.”

“Of what?”

Ferran shrugged lightly. “Things I believe. Stuff that matters. People I care about.”

Pedri nodded, his thumbs brushing along the edges of the gladiator again. “You’ve got all this history on you.”

“Yeah. I guess it helps me feel grounded.”

Pedri didn’t say anything for a second. Just held him a little closer.

“I like that,” he said. “That there’s a story to all of it. Makes me feel like I know you better.”

Ferran turned around then, shifting until they were face to face, knees bumping, hands settling around Pedri’s waist.

“You already know me.”

Pedri’s lips curved, just barely. “Yeah. But I like the way you tell it.”

Ferran kissed him then, slow and unhurried, like there was nowhere else he needed to be.

And for once, there wasn’t.

- sofía ✎ᝰ. taglist: @facesblurry rio @facesblurry helped me write