#fedri

[emmapaucubarsi2]

[fiveeatseight]

https://www.tumblr.com/fiveeatseight/775562086048727040/httpsvmtiktokcomznd189gvo-thats-so-fedri?source=share

i LOVE that you also like fedri 🥹💖 that ship is so overhated and pure 😭 pedri x jude and pedri x ferran are my absolute fav pairings 🛐

aren’t they cute!!! 🥰🥰🥰

shipping aside, their relationship is so precious and healthy. you can see how pedri genuinely goes 🥰🥺😳😆 every time he’s with ferran. eyes never lie chico. he’s in love and they 100% kiss each other in private

[hugs4pedri]

btw this is literally me (Pedri) and my lowkey crush (Ferran). I act the same around them, like Pedri acts around Ferran. They are just as goofy as Ferran, it's so similar. This picture right here is me and them in my evening spanish classes

(Therefore Pedri has something for Ferran, bcs I said so /j)

[vittmara]

Proposal. (I'm talking nonsense)

[mycutelionharry]

The same exact second the journalist says 'Pedri was given the MVP' (instead of him). Oh, he is SO IN LOVE 💕🥺

P.S. He is supposed to look bad with the hit on his lip, but he looks hotter than ever 😩

[ftorres-9]

We all need to start taking bets as to when the hard launch is going to be because it’s getting insane these idiots aren’t even being subtle no more

[agardenofbasil]

“you’re easy to love.” + pedri/ferran (ferran says it) thank you ❤️

A little angsty...

Ferran told them this is a bad idea. 

Somewhere out on the dance floor are their other teammates, who are finally letting loose after weeks of games and practices and media responsibilities. One weekend of rest before they have to gear up for the next La Liga matches. Hansi Flick warned them to be careful but otherwise, the world is theirs. And Ferran had every plan to be on the dancefloor with them, to think of anything until he saw Pedri at the bar. 

Ordering another drink. 

“This is a bad idea,” he warned Fermin, who ordered Pedri’s first drink and swore up and down that he’d keep an eye on him. Because Ferran remembers what happened in Berlin.

History has a way of repeating itself, Ferran thinks as he watches Pedri drain the glass.

“Everyone else has someone except me,” Pedri slurs.

“No. Half the team's single.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why don’t I have anyone?”

“I don’t know,” Ferran sighs. “Maybe because you stay  at home and play with your dog all day?”

Pedri makes a face. “Is that a euphemism?”

“That’s the truth.”

“Can I get another-”

“No,” Ferran cuts in, looking the bartender dead in the eye. “He’s had enough.”

Another face. “I can decide when I’ve had enough.”

“Pedri.” Ferran shakes his head at the bartender, who, having seen God, walks towards another patron.

Pedri folds his arms, but stumbles forward. Ferran catches him swiftly, straightening him up even though the midfielder is still mad. “You have it easy,” Pedri insists. “You can… be tall.”

Ferran tries not to laugh. “What?”

“You’re tall,” Pedri yells, eyes bright like it’s the first time he’s noticed his height. 

“That’s not-”

“You could get anyone you want! I message one girl on Instagram and I get ghosted after five messages. What gives?”

Ferran swallows the hard lump in his throat. “I can't get anyone I want,” he grits out. 

“Then it's me.”

“It's not.”

“Maybe I'm too hard to love.”

“Stop.”

“That has to be it, right?”

Here we go. Just like Berlin.

“Pedri, you’re not-”

“There has to be!”

It’s not fun anymore. Being here. It’s worse than Berlin, where Pedri was moping about his leg. This time, Ferran’s watching Pedri slide straight into the hell that is self-doubt. 

Wait. No. Pedri’s literally sliding.

The midfielder’s head thumps against Ferran’s chest.

“For fuck’s sake-”

“I’m always alone.”

Among the noise, Pedri’s words send a chill down Ferran’s spine.

“Do you really feel that way?” Ferran asks. Pedri doesn’t answer. “Can you hear me?”

Still no answer.

“Dumbass thought he could handle three drinks. Idiot. Dumbass.”

Silence.

“You’re easy to love.”

Nothing. 

“Loving you is so damn easy. I would know. Been doing it for years.”

Pedri mumbles, and his head digs heavily into Ferran’s sternum.

“What?”

“I said, can we go home?”

Ferran tightens his arm around Pedri's shoulder, the same way his chest tightens when Pedri’s phone lights up from another Instagram notification. “Yeah. Let’s go home.”

...but good news, you get a full Ao3 version. Hope you enjoy. 🍃

[subscribeduser]

… fedri fanart? (really outside your usual stuff ik)

hope you like it :)

i love these two as well. ferran really adores pedri

[71078]

Look at how he’s staring at ferran… up-and-downing him and then licking your lips in PUBLIC have some shame 🤭🤭

[pedrigavi]

why do they look like they’re holding hands

[hugs4pedri]

the way Ferran grips him. Like relax!!! Nobody is taking your princess Pedri away from you

[vittmara]

ok pedri and ferran training as a two men group together😭 love this😭😭😭

[mycutelionharry]

He is the happiest in Ferran's arms

[ftorres-9]

Proof Ferran was there

[agardenofbasil]

Happy valentines ❤️ can I request ferranpedri and "i'll help you change" 🤭🫶

This is probably going to be extended and posted to Ao3 at some point. I hope you enjoy this little bit first.

Ferran knows something’s wrong by the 75th minute. 

Why is he still on the grass? Why isn't he asking to come off?

Probably for that stupid MVP recognition. Which, of course, Pedri nabs. Was there any other choice?

Pedri applauds his teammates. There's not a single trace of discomfort in his features, even when he takes his jacket off for the post-match interview. Yet, throughout it, the midfielder keeps his arm at an awkward elevation. 

Ferran has seen enough. He walks into the locker room and waits. 

Pedri is the last to come in. Everyone else is already in the showers or getting whatever post match treatment they need after Sevilla tried to break their legs. And no doubt de Jong and Lewan are trying to keep Fermín level headed. 

It's just him and Pedri. 

“Hey,” Pedri says breezily. 

“Your arm,” Ferran comments coolly. It's enough to make Pedri stop. 

“It's not bad. It'll be bruised tomorrow. That's all.”

“Can you move it?”

“Yeah.” But he winces while opening his bag.

Ferran gets up.

“I'm okay, Ferran.”

“You're not. I should've talked to the ref.”

Pedri shrugs. “He wouldn't have done anything.” When Pedri tries to take off his kit, his face mangles with pain. 

It's the final straw for Ferran. 

“I'll help you change.”

Pedri doesn't fight him. Just sits on the bench, tired from it all. “Okay.”

Ferran starts with his peds, unlacing and pulling them and Peri’s socks off. He unwraps his shin guards, taking care to put them into Pedri's bag. The right guard has his family’s names etched into them. 

There's only one name on the left guard. 

Ferran guides Pedri's arms up. “Hurts?”

“No. It's just my forearm.” 

Ferran grasps Pedri’s kit and pulls up. A quick glance at Pedri’s left arm reveals nothing, but Ferran knows better. Pedri doesn't bruise quickly; it will take hours for his tan skin to go that ugly shade of black and blue. And it's going to hurt. 

When he looks away from Pedri’s arm, he sees the midfielder is back to being rosy cheeked. “What? It's not like I haven't seen this before.”

“Saw it all last night, didn't you?”

The comment is so un-Pedri like that Ferran’s anger is nearly absolved. “Are you flirting with me in public?”

“Maybe.”

“Ass. I'm helping you change.”

Pedri runs his hand through Ferran’s hair. “Thank you.”

Ferran nods. The way Pedri pets him… Ferran’s no fucking knight in shining armor. Undressing Pedri is purely selfish on his part. He can only stay away for so long, can only go so long without needing Pedri’s heels digging into the small of his back, needing Pedri panting in his ear.

But then Pedri does this. Looks at him with gold eyes and nothing short of gunfire in the way it pierces through him. And then Ferran realizes he’s never bothered with the armor. Not when it’s Pedri.

“Hey.”

“Yeah?”

Pedri takes his chin. “You should help me shower too.”

Ferran grins. 

[peligrosapopagain]

Fedri comic

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