#the numbers Gavi was pulling before his injury...

[ikram1909]

https://twitter.com/DataMB_/status/1826642484010635597?t=glCy6eui3enr28o14hPZzQ&s=19 gavi 🙂‍↕️ and pedri 🙂‍↕️

Not bad for Pablo "only runs around and fouls people" Gavi and Pedri "can't defend" Gonzalez 😒😒😒

[pavardscherie]

― what i deserve ;; pablo gavi & pedri gonzalez ;; part one

⤷ pairing: pablo gavi x f!reader ;; pedri gonzalez x f!reader ⤷ summary: your relationship with gavi ended after he cheated on you. time has passed, pedri always checked up on you with small messages until he invited you to one of the home games. somewhere between losing your heart to pedri; gavi still attempts to get you back. ⤷ warnings: curse words ;; injuries ;; mentions of blood ;; hand around throat ;; explicit sex scenes ;; asshole!gavi ;; cheating ;; violence in fights ;; spanking ;; dom & sub ;; dirty talk ;; teasing ;; very deep feelings & conversations ;; slight triangle thing but not most of the time ;; second chances kinda ;; friends to lovers ;; not proofread & probably horrible written kiss scenes lol ⤷ izzy's notes: first part here we go! it took me so long tbh, but like, i swear i got distracted by pedri (& reading other's imagines about pedri lol). tell me what you think if you want!

Seven Months passed. Multiple calls turned into none. Messages vanished from your lockscreen, and for the first time, when you stared down at your phone, it seemed more like a blessing than torture. The reminders of an unhealthy relationship rested in the back of your mind, stopping the painful memories of being cheated on to resurface.

It’s been almost a month since you found yourself, enjoying casual football games again. Raised by a very determined father, who cheered from the couch or in the middle of the fans for his favorite club, he passed his knowledge to you before he became the beautiful picture in the settling sun.

Avoiding Camp Nou to increase the distance between you and your former boyfriend, the stadium pulled you back one day. It all started with a call, you never expected to receive. On the other side of the line, waited a nervous Pedri with an invitation to one of his home games. After the awful break up with Gavi, the friendship between you and his best friend crumbled quickly.

At least, once in a while, you received a short text message, asking about your well-being but after answering, you never received another. The game of two messages in a month lasted until the surprising call reached you and suddenly, Pedri found himself in your inbox almost each day.

And somehow, even after declining his invitation multiple times in a row, you ended up in the secluded section of the stands, reserved for family members and people close to the players. It was new to you to be treated like a special addition in someone’s life as Gavi never offered you such a seat.

Your little flag draped over the bouncing legs, the anxiety had you trembling. An empty stomach caused your chest to tighten, as your eyes skimmed across the still empty pitch. It would be the first time of seeing Gavi again, after checking his latest social media posts once in a while. Snapchat let you in on the multiple parties he visited over the past months; in each picture another girl with high hopes of feeling his undivided love wrapped around his biceps. It was pathetic in many ways, especially that you still shed a tear while staring at the photo, and compared yourself to the different types of women.

Gavi never really had a particular type. He just enjoyed the thought of having too many gush about him.

Loud music boomed through the stadium, the announcer’s voice mixed with the beat as he welcomed the fans of both teams. After a quick speech about the upcoming match, the team was shown on the large four screen on each side of Camp Nou.

Fans shouted the last names of the players, some louder and some swallowed by the warm air of the early summer day until two faces appeared. Number Thirty, Gavi. His face appeared on the screen, the pillow-like lips without a curl and the arms crossed. He still looked like the guy, you met over a year ago.

Yet, the fans were equally excited when Pedri’s number was shown. Black hair carefully brushed down, the ends of his strands scattered across the forehead and the arms crossed like Gavi had before.

Eyes glued to the screen in front of you, you paid no attention to the players, running onto the pitch in their pre-match jackets and warming up for exhausting ninety minutes without additional time. Discomfort replaced the emptiness, and you suddenly wanted nothing more than to stand up, and run out of Camp Nou — away from the upcoming confrontation, and seeing Gavi question Pedri’s intentions.

Nervously, your trembling fingers brushed the loose strands of hair out of the face, attempting to forget about the little voice in the back of your head — shouting at you to run as fast as you could. You were close to the field, almost too close for your liking as it seemed so easy to notice your attendance.

Maybe it was a mistake to show up; even after Pedri’s words turned into a sweet begging. You should have declined his attempts, should have watched the match from home and switching channels quickly when Gavi appeared on the screen. Same routine as the past year.

“I thought you would dodge.” A familiar, gentle voice demanded your attention, the source standing right in front of the stands. Your head snapped around, almost quick enough to tear a muscle, as you were faced with Pedri. A ball tightly in one hand, his lips curled into a sweet smile. Black strands styled upwards on the front, dressed in the Barcelona kit and a pre-match jacket, his eyes glued on you.

“I accepted; how could I dodge then?” Your elbow propped up on your knee to stop the nervous bouncing of your leg, you placed your chin in your palm. “I’m not that mean.” Emphasizing the the second to last word, Pedri’s head dipped down, and chuckled mildly.

“I can’t judge that, it’s been a while.” The ball rolled out of his grip and bounced on the grass until being trapped underneath the studs of his football shoes. “I didn’t tell him, you’re here. He doesn’t really deserve to know about your presence.”

Pedri was Gavi’s best friend, they shared secrets with each other and even trained out of the club together. Through your relationship, you became close friends with Pedri as well. And you were thankful for it, as he forced Gavi into telling you how he messed up that one night. If it wasn’t for Pedri, you still would be trapped in a very toxic relationship with a man, who used your trust for nightly adventures.

“Thank you.” You mouthed, this time letting the small smile tugging on the corners of your mouth break through. “Score a goal for me, yeah?”

Pedri raised a bushy eyebrow, surprised by what you demanded from him after losing contact for way too long. Yet, nothing has changed, you were still irresistible in each possible way for him. Turning away from you to dribble towards the teammates, Pedri glanced over his shoulder for a second time and raised his hand to show you a simple thumbs up. Enough of an answer for the question, as the midfielder found his way to his partner in crime on and off the pitch.

The game was in the hands of Barcelona, holding the ball in their possession the longest, and playing in the half of the enemy team. Close to scoring the lead goal, they stood in the twenty-ninth minute when a particular, harsh foul coaxed a gasp out of your mouth. A frustrated defensive player from Villareal decided to slide-tackle Pedri, the studs on his shoes hitting the ankle of the midfielder with full force instead of the rolling ball.

With a loud scream, filled with pain, Pedri fell to the ground, clutching his ankle between both hands. Pain twisted in his expression, and you jumped up from the seat, throwing your hands in the air. Camp Nou was filled with Barcelona supporters who booed and shouted insults through the stands.

Pedri was the last friend you had left, the last person that actually attempted to ask about your well-being even if he never answered another message until writing again. Seeing him, crumbled, laying on the ground, triggered the bubbled-up anger inside of you.

"Idiots!" You suddenly shouted; the insult rolled off your tongue quicker than you were able to process in your head. The medical team hurried across the field, pushing the Barcelona players out of the way to take a closer look at the ankle. While your eyes glistened with worry, they drifted from the ground to another person, ruffling the hands nervously through the hair and staring down at his best friend. Gavi.

Delicate palms pressed against the cold, silver bars which were used as a railing, you stared at the horrific incident, and how the medical's started to help Pedri off the field. But the midfielder's mind changed with the first steps, shaking his head and hands to explain that he belonged on the pitch; and wanted to stay. The referee behind them, blew his whistle, pointing his fingers annoyed at the watch around his wrist. Waving him off, Pedri hobbled off the field and the game continued quickly. At least three minutes have passed, if not longer, and it would be added at the end of the first half.

Still leaning across the railing, you tried to steal a glance at the coaching bench to see if Pedri was truly doing better, or playing the tough guy while his ankle swelled in a deep navy blue and wine purple. The medical team focused completely on the midfielder, inspecting how harsh the contact was and how strong the pain was. Losing Pedri in the midfield position would be a devastating start into the game.

The match continued, with Barcelona forced to play with one man less; and the opponents immediately tried to use the fact to their advantage. You couldn’t find a second to glance away from the painful twist on Pedri’s face. Eyes squeezed close, the bottom lip assaulted by his teeth as the medic’s pressed their fingers deeply against different spot around his ankle.

Minutes passed, and Xavi decided a substitute for the struggling Pedri was needed on the pitch. Displeased by the quick exchange, he rolled his eyes but swallowed the unattractive curse words which wanted to escape his mouth. Cheerful sounds rang in your ears, the fans around you jumping to their feet with the arms stretched into the warm spring air. Lewandowski once again scored a goal for Barcelona; with an assist from none other than number thirty. Gavi, who ran over to the much taller man, jumping straight on his back for a piggyback ride.

Pedri clapped his hands from the sideline, still seated in the grass while a bandage was wrapped around the swollen ankle; a thick pack of ice hidden between the layers. While the team hugged, and congratulated Robert for another perfect lead goal, Gavi jogged along the sideline towards his best friend for their very own celebration. Head tilted to the side, acknowledging the different aged females that screamed his name in a high-pitched, loud voice, with a wave and a smile.

But the curve of his mouth dropped, when his gaze drifted through the front row of the stands, bathing in the applause; and suddenly, drawn in by your presence.

A black, woolen jacket over the shoulders, the sleeves in your delicate palms. Underneath the thin material of a cardigan was a tight-cropped shirt, showing a small line of exposed skin until the charcoal-colored cargo pants perfected the chosen outfit. Hair, partly in a messy bun, the loose strands falling freely over your shoulders.

An appearance that reminded him of the first nights, you spent together. You were never a person for the tight dresses, or the overusing of makeup, and the confessions immediately drew Gavi in. But this time, your worried gaze wasn’t focused on him, you were staring at the injured man next to the coach’s bench. Concern twisted your features, eyebrows pulled down in a frown when Pedri winced as the ice bag was pressed tighter against the purple marks.

You visited Camp Nou for Pedri; for Gavi’s best friend. Unfortunately, the thought of seeing his mate touch you, kiss you, or even more, bothered him. A sudden wave of jealousy overcame Pablo, turning away from the sidelines as the referee blew the whistle for the third time, and already rummaged through the little pocket on the front of his polo shirt.

Trembling fingers brushed through the damp, chestnut strands as Gavi received the first booking of the night. And all he had left as an answer, was a subtle shrug of his shoulders instead of throwing a fit. He did not understand the sudden, unknown pinches in his heavy-breathing chest, or the reason behind the drifting gaze of his eyes to see if you were still in the stands and not already by Pedri's side.

A trail of thoughts, seeing you with his best friend entangled, bothered his mind and increased the difficulty of focusing solely on the last minutes of the first half. In seconds, he remembered the scent you carried around like a shield of protection, a fruity mixture of raspberries and vanilla. It was never a perfume like he assumed in the beginning, it was just a tube of shower gel. Those memories never bothered his concentration before, all it needed to remind him, was a glance at your face.

The referee blew the whistle once more, ending the first half of the match with a leading goal for Barcelona. And it did not take you longer than a minute to find a way out of the stands and to the catacombs. Your face was a familiar one, the security guards were still the same from the time you were by Gavi's side. An advantage for you, as they casually nodded their heads and let you through to the entrance of the tunnels. Brushing the thin strands out of the face while jogging down the corridor, the hem of your sleeves tightly between the delicate palm and soft fingertips.

Anxiety burst through your body in irregular waves when you reached the entrance to the pitch. Greeted by multiple familiar faces, your unfocused gaze drifted through the crowd, trying to find the injured midfielder. "How ironic." The rough voice twisted your stomach, the all-too-familiar melody, you once loved to listen to for more than six months. Stopping in your tracks, like the soles of your shoes were rooted to the tiled floor, you swallowed the breath you held without notice. Before you had a chance to find Pedri, and assure yourself that the concern was deeply unnecessary, Gavi found your worked-up self. „Can‘t stay away from me, huh?“

Arrogance infiltrated Pablo‘s voice, showing off the admiration he received over the past months as a shield and a new part of his personality. Confidence always lingered in his body, but the way he spoke, wasn’t similar to what you remembered. Teeth gritted, the anger bubbled in the pit of your stomachs. Anger twisted your insides, tainted your gentle heart and attempted to push you into a blinded rage. Accusing him of what he has done, how easily he played with your heart and tossed you away, but the worse part was the way, he tore your soul apart with his lies and words. Delicate fingers clenched into tight fists, the manicured nail dug into the sensitive skin of your palms.

Little needles pierced your heart, and the pain tightened your chest. You wanted to scream at him, make a fool out of yourself in the middle of the faces, you became all too familiar with. Turning around to face the arrogant curve of his mouth, Gavi stood against the wall. Studs against the stones, arms crossed over the Barcelona Jersey with the number thirty and his name. Chestnut strands in a devilish mess, thick hairs stuck to his sweaty forehead but the curl of his lips, the smugness written in the corners was the only part of him, you were able to focus on. It did not matter how attractive he was in any situation, the actions he did turned him into an ugly person for you. "Hermanito, she's not here for you. I invited her to the game." Pedri's gentle voice echoed through the corridor, capturing the attention of the two ex-lovers. Gavi rolled his eyes, tilting the head to the side while yours snapped in the direction of the entrance to the pitch at the first tone.

One arm draped over the shoulders of a medic, Pedri was carried inside on one foot. Your heart hammered against your ribcage, he was still in pain, but he did not intend to show an ounce of it. Pedri's gaze drifted away from the glimpse of annoyance in Gavi's expression, and to your face. Gentle features twisted by emotions, anger, and confusion, but also concern overshadowed the pureness.

„Are you okay?“ Carefully, you took a step towards the injured player, who assured the medic‘s that he was fine enough to walk further on his own. „That looked harsh, is it broken? I hope not.“ You rambled on between questions and expressing your concern as the distance closed between the two of you, and Pedri stepped into your little personal bubble.

Gavi‘s existence was not acknowledged by you anymore, the groan that slipped past his lips swallowed by the thick air in the catacombs. "No, it's swollen but it's nothing too serious. I'm benched for the rest of the game though."

"At least, it's nothing too bad! I almost jumped off the stands after hearing your scream." The words she attempted to hold inside, spilled out of her mouth, and admitted the intense moments of concern she went through. "Don't worry, again." Pedri chuckled, waving the worry away with his hand. "But it's flattering to know that you declined my invitation way too many times, just to sit in the stands weeks later and jump out of your seat because I got tackled.” While Pedri did not leave a second to spare to share a flirtatious comment with you, Gavi swallowed the heavy mixture of breath and oxygen. A lump in the throat, the need to leave the hallways indescribable but his hooded eyes were glued to the scene. Curiosity forced him to stay in his place, curiosity about how far the encounter would evolve.

„Well..“ You trailed off, swaying from your weight from the left to the right while deciding what words to say. „You’re my friend.“ A gentle smile plastered over your face as the answer slipped out so easily. But what you didn’t see, was the little flinch in Pedri‘s proud posture, the way he almost considered taking a step back and leaving your personal bubble again after hearing the word friend. For him, you were always irresistible, he never understood how his best friend chose hundreds of others when the perfect example of a caring girlfriend was right in front of him.

But the scene, the awkwardness that unfolded between the two of you caused a loud laugh to slip out of Gavi‘s mouth. Suddenly, he was relieved that he stayed to witness how you called him a friend with such ease. “All that work for being pushed into the friend zone again.“ He clapped his hands together, pushing himself off the wall to walk towards the changing rooms. „Maybe, she‘s still too much into me, hermanito.“ Pablo disappeared, including himself in the round of multiple conversations between his teammates. Thoughts vanished when you confessed Pedri was just another friend; leaving you alone with him in the corridor suddenly did not bother Gavi anymore. Satisfied by your words, satisfied to see that you just could not move on from what he gave you, plastered a wide smirk across his face. At least Pablo told himself that you weren’t able to leave him in the past to smooth his growing ego. Glimpses of confidence and pride written over the curl of his mouth.

"Maybe, you can watch the second half from the stands with me?" You fiddled with the ties on your cargo pants, avoiding as much eye contact as possible. Gavi's words triggered another wave of pure anger, and it was difficult to decide if calling Pedri a friend was the wrong or a good choice. "Just you know, if your coach allows it." Shrugging the shoulders, asking such a question felt oddly weird. And waiting for an answer gave rise to your nervousness.

"I have to change first, then there shouldn't be a reason not to be able to." Asking for his company in the stands, with the almost invisible watermelon-pink tint across the span of your cheeks, allowed another spark of hope to ignite in Pedri's stomach.

Taking a liking to his best mate's ex-girlfriend wasn't the greatest move, but Pablo knew the best, that Pedri fancied you for much longer than he actually said. With a quick nod, the injured midfielder stumbled into the changing room and immediately received a warm welcome, and questions about his foot from his teammates. Except for his best friend, Gavi stayed in the corner of the room, drowning a bottle of water while his intense glare never left Pedri's smiling face. And the number thirty of the Barcelona Football Club was the first to leave the locker room again, leaving behind a confused Balde, and stumbling straight into your gaze again.

Somehow, his features moved on their own. Furrowed brows relaxed, and the corners of his mouth lifted, much to your dismay. “You could have done anything.” Gavi pointed a single finger at you, closing the distance with slow steps. The woolen cardigan suddenly felt too warm, too tight wrapped around your numb limbs at the sight. For months, you avoided social media, the news and even football as a whole to not come in contact with regret. Remorse for not answering his incoming text messages about spending time together again, the multiple question marks that filled your inbox and even worse, the filthy words he sent without hesitation, which your body accepted and reacted to way too quickly. “And yet, you chose my best friend as a reasonable excuse to watch me again.”

Shaking your head to answer his words without having to use your trembling voice, defending the leftovers of your pride, you failed ultimately when Gavi caged you between his sweaty body and the cold brick wall. Calloused palm placed beside your head, he used his free one to let his warm fingertips dance over the span of your cheeks. “Still so beautiful, even after I ruined you so many times.” The whispers triggered the memories, the moments you locked away in your mind — yet, not deeply enough for Gavi to easily access them.

Nights, you spent at his newly bought house. Wrapped tightly in the comfort of the black blanket, his naked chest pressed against your bare, arched back. Rough fingertips dug into the sensitive skin around your throat, pressing your windpipe barely together. It was never meant to hurt you, the ecstasy was his greatest reason. His hips snapped against your ass, diving deeper into the warmth of your walls. Moans filled the in darkness drowned bedroom, the dim light of the moon illuminating the side of your face. Lids fluttered close, just like those nights when Gavi was in the mood to ruin you.

But he chuckled, nonchalantly and pulled your mind out of the daydream that played like a movie in front of your closed eyes. Forcing the lids open, your pupils dilated in slight shock. Months of preparation weren’t enough to decline Gavi any access to your mind. But what was worse was the rapid pace of your heartbeat or the painful hammering against your rib cage that he was able to feel. The hand on your cheek started to travel south, fingertips caressed along your jaw, over the side of your throat, and towards your chest. Palm softly pressed against the material of your shirt, fitting perfectly between your breasts, his lips curled upwards in satisfaction when your heart boomed against his sprawled-out hand. „Still the same reaction and yet, you think Pedri could offer you what I‘ve given you.“ Head tilted to your height, just a couple of centimeters smaller than him, his warm breath fanned over your glossy lips

"Tell me that you're still mine, carino." Gavi muttered into the thin air that was caught between your mouth and his. Shaking your head with the last bit of willpower, and the unsettling feeling of shame in the pit of your stomach as he played his little mind games with you, your lips brushed over his repeatedly but never closed the gap. „You ruined me one too many times, darling.“ You hissed, wiggling yourself out of his trap and stepping to the side as the door to the locker room opened, and multiple players walked outside. It was the last piece of self-confidence that slipped out of your mouth and defended your honor. Mistakes were made, repeated way too often and kept as long-term secrets throughout the relationships. Gavi's disrespect to you as a woman was enough to turn him into an unattractive person. Yet, you questioned yourself if the sentence you spoke, wasn't too harsh.

Suddenly, your shoes became an interesting view to avoid Gavi's lingering gaze and the quick glances of the passing players. But Pedri's appearance went by unnoticed, his white sneakers the first thing you see. Taking in his body, the left hem of his cargo pants settled underneath his knee to decrease the pressure on the swollen ankle, the charcoal color an extravagant sight on his tanned skin. Paired with a hoodie, he adjusted the pieces of clothing to the warm weather, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. A small black bag underneath his arm, keeping the most important essentials like his phone, and money inside of it. "You look a little flushed." Pedri used one of his hands to show with his long fingers the strawberry red tint across your cheeks, on his own face. Unfortunately, his words did not help to calm down your irregular breathing, or the intense pounding in your chest.

Any second longer at Camp Nou spread the discomfort in your body, shifting the weight from your left foot to the right to overshadow how much you trembled from the minutes with Gavi alone. Telling Pedri about his best friends' assault on his former lover would be absurd, after all, he was just a piece between Pablo and you. A friend for the two of you, but quietly cheering for your side. Clothes, way too tightly wrapped around your heavy limbs. Pedri's gentle face, radiating too much for your comfort.

"I think, I might just skip." You muttered, tilting the head to the side to avoid witnessing how the disappointment and the surprise twisted Pedri's features. Guilt bubbled in the pit of your stomach, inviting the midfielder first and then immediately taking back your words, and wanting to leave the stadium. Just in the span of five minutes, the glimpse of hope in Pedri's body vanished. Your sudden confession was a surprise to him, already attempting to find the mistakes he made that caused any discomfort to your figure. But the search never found a reasonable result. "Oh, I can sit at the coach's bench if you don't want to watch the game with me, it's fine." Pedri suggested immediately, trying to take the blame for the ways she felt without knowing what kind of emotions mixed in the pit of her stomach. "What?" You reacted quickly, the question tumbling out of your mouth as your eyebrows rose in confusion. Just for a simple second, you were clueless why he offered such a proposition but it hit you quickly.

"You said, you want to skip." Pedri's calloused palm placed over his neck, the fingertips scratching over the small hair and tanned skin. "I guess, you meant watching the game with me."

"Oh my gosh." You facepalmed yourself, letting your soft hand caress over you face. Strawberry red tint spread further across your cheeks and the bridge of your nose, showcasing a sign of shame. "I didn't mean watching the game together, it was more about the entire second half. I think I will skip the rest of the game, I don't really feel prepared enough to watch Pablo longer than needed after his rude interruption." Palm pressed to your flushed cheek, your tried to hide the hues of bright crimson red tainting your smooth skin.

“Oh.” Pedri chuckled, a very calm and light-hearted sound as the relief washed over him. “Understood. He can be a real pain in the ass.” Since Gavi transferred to Barcelona Football Club underaged, and him and Pedri became best mates. Driving as the passenger of the midfielder’s forest green mini became a ritual, the fans always knowing if they saw Pedri’s car, Gavi wouldn’t be way too far. “I really hope you don’t mind. Maybe next time, the circumstances are better.” You almost apologized for looking after yourself once again, offering Pedri a gentle smile as you turned around to leave the cursed corridors of Camp Nou.

“I can drive you home.” Pedri was quick with his suggestion, taking a step forward to wrap his long fingers around your wrist and stop the distance from growing. The little contact; just the way his warm fingertips carefully pressed against your pulsating veins, caused another blush to creep its way across the span of your cheeks and increase the heat that already put your body on flames.

Like the watermelon pink attempted to tell you that the ignited fire wasn't a usual feeling. Admiration resurfaced, the slight crush you had on the midfielder before Gavi asked you out prominent in the way your face twisted. Letting the sensation linger, the warmth spread over your skin, you tried to tug your arm away from his embrace. Instead of another attempt to convince you of his offer, Pedri's finger loosened, your limb slipping out of his grip and out of reach, without taking a step forward. "Only if you feel comfortable enough to share a car with me." Pedro added to his suggestion, witnessing how your body language changed. Muscles tensed with his touch, your voice barely audible as your heavy breaths overshadowed the words. And for merely a moment, Pedri questioned the way he almost tried to persuade you into spending time with him — even if it was just a lame car ride.

Delicate and soft palms wiped over your face, probably ruining the layers of make up you covered your blemished skin with. Choosing Pedri’s company could be a chance to feel a moment of mild comfort again. After all, he cared enough for your well-being to ask many, many times. Even when you decided not to answer the first text messages because you thought Gavi would be the reason behind the sudden interest. But it wasn’t, it has never been. “Sure, it’s better than being alone right now.” You accepted with hesitation as your mind traveled through the worst-case scenarios. While you walked through the corridors towards the parking lot where the signature green mini waited, you heard how the fans chanted Gavi’s name like a beautiful melody as another goal extended the lead. Another ball hitting the back of the net, another time number thirty scored for Barcelona.

Bathing in the applause, the attention and how needy the girls at the front of the stands tried to reach out, Gavi smiled at the cameras. The curl of his mouth plastered across his face, the burst of happiness faded when the drifting gaze of his deep hazelnut orbs didn’t find your face in the crowd. Empty seats in the secluded section, his head snapped to the coach’s bench to find Pedri. But his best mate was missing too.

Unfortunately, the realization and the negative thoughts forced Gavi into a wave of blinded rage. He knew immediately, he would leave the pitch with another booking — just no one knew if it would be a simple yellow as usual, or a deeply crimson red one.

[pedrisbanana]

Hey how's it going? I hope you are well, my request and where Pedri asks the reading to go to the match for El Clasico, where he will return after the injury, she said that if she has time she will go, since she does not have time due to the recording of a film in who acts. Obviously Pedri is upset, but he understands. In short, she manages to go to the game and he scores a goal for her, if you want you can use obscenity. Thank you even if you don't respond to my request

Scoring on and off the pitch...

Enjoy 🍌

El Clásico

„Do you really not have time ?" Pedri pouted, laying his fork on his empty table. 

He invited you to his favourite resturant tonight. Pedri was really sweet, after having met during a adidas event, you and him got introduced. You liked him, maybe even a little more than just friends and by the signs he was sending, the feeling was mutual. 

„I told you already, we're starting the rehearsals in that week. I can't just skip. This is a really big opportunity for me." You frowned. 

You would love to watch Pedri play, but this movie could boost your career to the next level, making you an established actress and not just the telenovela star. 

He reached to hold your hand on the table, playing with your fingers. „I know. I would've just loved to see you cheer me on. Celebrate with me. Especially after this big injury."

His touch was calming. Your heart fluttered. 

„I will be right here-„ You pointed to his chest where his heart is. „-supporting you. You won't even notice I'm not there." 

Pedri smiled. „I have something for you."  He dropped your hand to reveal a wrapped gift. You took it from him and began to rip the wrapping open. 

„You don't have to take it if you don't like it..." he seemed nervous. 

It was a Barcelona home jersey. You unfolded it and held it up. His name and the number 8 sparkled in golden letters. Something dropped into your lap. 

„Thank you, Pepi. I love it." A special feeling spread warmth in your chest. He really wanted you to wear his jersey.

You folded the jersey to see what had dropped into your lap. A small golden chain. A sparkling 8 charm was dangling from it. 

„I really like you and I hope you feel the same way, so I wanted to ask you if you would be my girlfriend." 

The blush that crept upon Pedri's cheeks made him look cute. Your heart hammered in your chest. 

„Yes. Pedri I would love to be your girlfriend." You practically jumped out of your chair to hug him. His hands pressed you close. He felt warm. 

You couldn't help but grin. He pulled you into a kiss. All the unresolved chemistry mixed into your lips moving against one another. Pedri made butterflies erupt in your stomach. 

„Will you help me ?" you handed him the necklace and turned around so he could put it on you. The 8 charm fell right above your cleavage. 

"It's beautiful, thank you." 

His lips were plush and warm against yours. You could definitely get used to this. 

That night you fell asleep in your boyfriends arms. 

-

Smiling, you clipped your ticket pass back to the top of your skirt. You wanted to surprise Pedro with your visit.

The rehearsals were surprisingly delayed to next week. You were glad, so now you could be here and support Pedri for the El Clasico. 

For the past ten minutes you had been trying to talk the security into letting you access the mixed zone and when he finally broke, you nearly did a little happy dance. Sadly it was only five minutes before kickoff so you needed to find your boyfriend as soon as possible. 

The players were already lining up when you spotted him. 

"Pedri !" 

The midfielder turned around and flashed you a big smile.

"Mi amor. You've made it." 

His hug spread warmth through your body, making the butterflies flutter. Your lips found his cheek after you told him the change in your schedule. Wishing him good luck you separated from him and he mixed back into the pool of players.

Finding your seat on one of the VIP balconies, you saw that Aurora, Gavi's sister sat next to you. You were glad to see a familiar face and smiled at her.

The match was as heated as expected. After the first half the score was 1-1. Lewandowski and Benzema scored. 

The last three minutes went on and both teams tried to seal the deal by scoring a last minute goal. Gave passed to Pedri who stood next to the line of the penalty box. He nutmegged the defender and Balde took the ball inside. Passing back to Pedri, he shot the football into the top left corner of the net, making Courtois look like a fool. 

Pedri ran towards the bleachers were you were seated and blew a kiss towards you. He dedicated the goal to you. 

You cheered and Aurora hugged you. 

After the match Pedri joined you in the VIP lounge. You both ordered dinner and chatted. This time you sat next to him. 

You felt the need to be as close to him as possible, arms and legs touching, hands brushing, a kiss on the cheek, neck or lips once in a while. 

It was addicting. He was addicting.

Walking to his car, he offered to take you home. A friend had dropped you off earlier so you accepted. 

He put his hand on your thigh during the ride and you intertwined your fingers. You felt happier than ever. 

"Pepi, that's your house, not mine." you said laughing. 

He leaned over to give you a kiss. "I know, hermosa, but I want to keep you close. Stay with me tonight ?" 

You giggled. "Of course I will." 

He lead you into the apartment. You remembered the familiarity from your last visit. 

"I'll give you my clothes to sleep in. You can change in the bathroom." he said and disappeared into the bedroom. 

You put your handbag on the small table next to the front door and took your phone out. 

"Here you go. Do you need anything else ?" he asked. 

"No thank you, Pepi. I should be fine." you replied. 

After changing you joined Pedri on his bed, cuddling into the duvet. He held you to his chest, legs entangling. 

He leaned forward to kiss you. It was chaste at first, then his tongue asked for entrance, which you gladly granted. You fell back into the pillow, pulling Pedri half on top of you. His tongue explored your mouth and massaged yours. 

You moaned as he pulled your hips closer, your core brushing his soft bulge in the process. Electricity shot through you and your hands slid up into his hair. He started to grind his hips against yours, seeking friction. 

You broke the kiss to catch your breath. Pedri lit your whole body on fire. 

He continued to kiss down your neck, finding your pulse point. You wanted to contemplation how far this would go, but Pedri easily took that decision from you. 

The feeling of his lips on your throat fogged your mind. Usually you didn't move this fast in a relationship. With Pedri it was different. He made it easy for you to trust him. The connection was deeper from the beginning.

You knew Pedri wanted to be respectful, so you started to lead this further by moving your hands down and pull the hem of his sleep shirt up. He pulled away to look at you. His eyes were clouded with lust. 

What a sight.

He removed the shirt and you scratched your nails against the defined muscles of his V line. 

What a sight indeed.

He sucked in a breath at the feeling and took hold of your wrists. You looked at him with surprise. In this position he kneeled above your hips, trying not to crush you. 

"If you want to tease, you have to go all the way, princesa." His voice had your panties dripping wet with anticipation. His bulge grew bigger.

He wanted this as much as you did.

"I always finish what I start." you said, making eye contact. 

Having your consent, he started to move your hands down the trail of hair peeking into his briefs. Leading your hands past the waist pants, you held your breath. 

His cock was big and warm and his balls were heavy. You wrapped your hand around it and started to pump a few times, making Pedri hiss and swear in spanish. 

"I need you, amor." he moaned and thrusted into your hands. You bit your lip and removed your hands from his pulsing member. 

"I need you more." you replied and pulled at the waistband of your panties. Pedri removed his briefs and kissed up your thighs. When he reached your core, he kissed you above the thin fabric and pulled it down with his teeth, which made you giggle. 

Pedri continued his journey until he could remove his shirt off your body. Your lips found his again, connecting in a passionate battle for dominance. 

His hands encircled your waist as he entered you. Your bodies found a synchronized rhythm, embracing each others lust. Being this close didn't feel like enough. You dug your nails into his bag pleading for more. 

His thrusts sent you into oblivion. Pedri whispered sweet nothings into your skin, clarifying his own pleasure. The pleasure you gave him. 

His fingers found your pulsing clit and your nipples rubbed against the hard pecs of his chest. You clenched around him, bringing him closer to his release. 

He held you when your body rode out the orgasm he gave you. His hands caressed your arched back when he pumped his seed inside of you. Pedri stroked your hair when you fell limp against him, tired and exhausted from the impressions. 

You felt cold when he stood up to clean you up. He urged you to go to the bathroom before falling asleep with him. 

That's all you needed, falling asleep being surrounded by his body warmth. 

He whispered you into sleep with declarations of love. 

A/N: I'm doing very well thank you !

A more cute fic. I know I said smut at Camp Not, but I rewrote the smut part bc I didn't think a locker room smut fit into the vibe. Sorry.

I'm kind of disappointed with this after the last two fics. I also didn't have the motivation to proofread.

Let me know what you think !💕

[milawritesstuff]

I want Y/N and Pedri. Him seeing her on his game, they took picture after, they chat and tease each other after taking picture, him being stupid not to ask for a name and than him looking for her all night on instagram. Finally finding her and then exchanging messages and them having a date at his place 🥰

A/N: I forgot I had some drafts ready to go lol ��� I have one more saved which I might post tomorrow. Enjoy!!

•••

The match had just ended. It was Pedri's first match since he had suffered an injury about two months prior. You had showed up to Camp Nou every match since, hoping he would soon be better and you could see his magic on the field. You tried to rush towards the lowest point in the stands possible to get a picture with him but the security guards stopped you as you pulled your little sister behind you.

-Es para la niña.- It's for the little girl, you said in hopes they would let you go through. You knew they were nicer to kids wanting pictures and autographs than to grown women wanting a picture with their favorite footballers. The security guard stared at you and then looked behind at your little sister, both of you wearing the number 8 jersey.

-Wait.- He said as people continued to leave the stands and walk out of the stadium. Finally the guard looked at you and nodded. - Vamos, but make it fast.- He said.

You ran down to the edge of the seats and yelled for Pedri who was one of the last ones walking back towards the tunnels. You put your little sister in front of you and had her yell to get his attention. The dark haired boy saw the two of you and smiled waving to let you know he would be there soon, but before going to the other end of the tunnel and signing some shirts and taking other pictures.

-Hola.- He said to your little sister and he high fived her with a huge smile. You smiled at him and asked if he could take a picture with her. He agreed. She asked if he could sign her jersey which he did but had difficulty because she couldn't take it off. He gave her back the marker and then he looked up at you.

-Una foto con la hermana también?- One picture with the sister, too?  You said as you handed your phone to your little sister and walked towards him. He chuckled. -Una hermana guapa- A pretty sister.- he said as you stood next to him and smiled for the picture. You felt your cheeks begin to burn as a response to his words.

-Good thing you didn't say she's your daughter.- He commented as you stood in front of him. You laughed. -I'm too young for kids.- You responded as he shook his head.

In a sudden wave of confidence you continued ... -But I can practice making them.- He looked at you with his eyes wide open and the two of you began to laugh uncontrollably. 

-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that.- You said as he stared at you with a smile.

-No, don't worry about it.- He said.

-Good game, Pedri. It was nice to see you back. Now we have someone who can control Gavi again.- 

He laughed. -I'm glad to be back. Although I'm not sure anyone can control him.-

He stood there staring into your eyes. You felt butterflies in your stomach because his stare was intense. It felt comfortable talking to him, almost as if you had known him your whole life. Although there were still fans walking out and music blasting through the stadium speakers, this felt like your moment. A moment of silence as the two of you felt something undescribable.

-Can you sign my jersey?- You said interrupting the moment. He agreed and you began to pull your jersey up to give it to him when you felt his hands stop yours. -Keep it on.- He said as he grabbed the marker from your little sister and he began to leave his autograph on the upper part of your chest. Your heartbeat was racing and he could feel it. Your hard breathing caused by how close he was, hitting his arm.

-Estas bien?- Are you okay? He asked with a smirk which caused you to roll your eyes.

-Es que eres tan guapo, no me puedo controlar.- It's just that you are so handsome, I can't control myself. You said in a sarcastic tone as you raised your eyebrows and began to laugh. He chuckled and shook his head. -You know how to keep me humble, niñata.- He said as he put the top back on the marker and handed it to your little sister.

-Gracias, feo.- You responded as he began to walk away. He turned to look at you one more time before entering the tunnel and offered you a smile with a wink giving you butterflies in your stomach.

You and your little sister headed home, you with a huge smile on your face from the interaction with Pedri. -He's handsome, why did you call him feo?- Your little sister asked as the two of you walked into the metro. You laughed and looked over at her. - He called me as spoiled brat.- She shook her head. -I'm probably more mature than the both of you.-

Meanwhile at home Pedri continued to look through instagram, thinking of your laugh. As soon as he had entered the tunnel he rushed back to get your name but you were long gone. He wanted a name to your face, to your laugh, to the butterflies in his stomach after talking to you.

He knew you would, hopefully, eventually post on instagram but as he continued to look at everything people were tagging him his hope began to dry out. It wasn't you. Your sister and you arrived home and you put her to bed while you went to your room and began to work on homework for uni. It was around 1am when you finally gave up because you couldn't concentrate. You picked up your phone and looked at the picture your little sister had taken of the two of you. You smiled at how he looked at you the moments prior to the final picture. Finally deciding to post it on your instagram.

Por fin se me ha dado conocer a este feo. I was finally able to meet this ugly guy.

You posted the picture with the funny caption and your friends all began to comment. You laughed at the different comments as you felt your heart stop and you saw someone had messaged you.

P : I've been waiting for you to post this, niñata. What took so long.

Y/N: You know the world doesn't revolve around you, right?

P: It doesn't?  You rolled your eyes as you read his messages and chuckled.

Y/N: Are you stalking me now? How the tables have turned.

P: Are you confessing to stalking me?

Y/N: I wouldn't call it stalking, more like gentle following. He chuckled as he read your messages in his bed, the light of his screen being the only thing that shined in the dark room.

P:  This might be random but, would my stalker like to go out on a date?

Y/N: You're willing to go out with a niñata?

P: If you're willing to go out with a feo.

TAG LIST: @cinderellawithashoe @httpswiftie @simpingmyassoff @bubblebeep69 @fictional-l0v3r @httpspedri26 @0alanasworld0 @l0verl4ne @gaviypedrisbride @footballerficsposts @fashphotolife @beaschampagneproblems @jvsgnjrtpdar5stkd-tv-m @ikkehehe @jjishotasf @quemirasboboandapaya @maricciardo @gaviswh0re @pedriwifefrfr @dustell @elijahslover @formula1mount

[futbolfanficpunk]

Panicked clarity

Player's fan fic: Gavi, Pedri Word count: 2690+ Gavi and Pedri's friendship is tighter than ever, soon after his 18th birthday Gavi starts noticing his feelings towards Pedri change, meanwhile Pedri has been going through his own journey Warnings: Flirting, Fluff, Angst, Heartbreak, Secret Love

Gavi was turning 18 and everyone was making a huge deal out of it. His family came over from Los Palacios and they were planning a big party in his Barcelona apartment, his club had brought a birthday cake with 18 number candles for him to blow it for videos and social, and his agent told him the heads of the club were ready for him to sign his first team contract, finally. That last one was the most important for him. Being 18 years old meant finally getting an adult, professional contract. He might even get to play with the number 6 on the back of his jersey by the end of the winter transfer, his agent told him. He was excited about all that, more than just turning 18. But being 18 also meant he could get his driver’s license, go to clubs and other adult-only situations where he was always being excluded and it had started to annoy him because most of his friends were now older than him. Not anymore.

Pedri and Gavi got into’s the elevator in Gavi’s apartment building, and as Gavi pressed the button for his floor Pedri said “Okay, It’s official! Congrats, Gavi! Feliz cumpleaños” and gave Gavi a big hug. He wanted to be the first one to celebrate him tonight.

“¡Gracias, hermano!” said Gavi as he patted Pedri’s back and gave him a kiss on the shoulder.

“We can finally go to a club or something” said Pedri as he pulled back

“Like you ever go dancing or drinking, you dork” Gavi said while bursting out a laugh. 

Pedri shoved him as the elevator opened in front of Gavi’s apartment door. 

As they walked towards the door Pedri put his arm around Gavi’s shoulder and said “Just try to have fun, and don’t be shy! It’s your party” “I’ll try, but help me if you see struggling” replied Gavi making a pleading face.

Pedri laughed, nodded and assured him by ruffling his hair. Guys from the club and La Masia were coming with their girls and some people the family invited. A lot of  attention on him made Gavi feel a bit awkward, but he always felt more comfortable in social things when Pedri is around. They went into the apartment, music was already playing and Gavi’s family all screamed “Pabloooo!” when they came in. 

Gavi and Pedri’s friendship had started getting closer the past season, just after Pedri got better from his first injury they started hanging out more. Especially after Pedri became Gavi’s official ride to and from home on training and game days. When Pedri got injured for the second time, Gavi visited him sometimes to show him support and they even spent a few days of vacation time before pre-season in Barcelona with Eric.  For Pedri, it was easy to be his friend, he loved teasing Gavi, he was easy to talk to and joke around with. They shared the same interests and they respect each other but most important he was a loyal friend. Gavi was a Pedri fan, he really admired him and wanted to be around him all the time. He loved that Pedri was a jokester but also a good listener, he never felt judged by him for being the baby of the group and always gave him sound advice but most of all that Pedri was just a good friend, who always had his back. They were pretty close, they were always together.

A few days after the party, Pedri asked Gavi if he wanted to go out before their day off, to something adult, as Pedri put it. “Adult like what?” asked Gavi

“Like a bar, or a club or something” Pedri shrugged “ something that you couldn’t do before and now can, I mean” he said while gesturing with his hands.

“Well, I don’t drink and neither do you, so, a bar seems stupid” Gavi said as he looked to the side trying to think of something to do “but a club seems like an okay idea, but only for like an hour or two. And only if convince Ansu or Eric to come!” he concluded “Eric is like a retired old man, he doesn’t like clubs” Pedri said “but I think Ansu would say yes, plus I think he might be a good dancer, and might teach not to be so stiff” he said smiling and making a stiff dance move

“Fuck off, I’m not stiff” Gavi protested

“¡No! ¡Que va! No, of course not!” Pedri said sarcastically

Ansu, Gavi and Pedri got to one of Barcelona’s most exclusive clubs and went straight to the VIP booth section they reserved after zooming past security. Piqué recommended the club because they had a strict cellphone policy when it came to the VIP area, plus the main dance floor was so big you usually got lost in the crowd anyway. Ansu announced a champagne bottle and 3 shots as he got into their booth while a waitress served them. “Bueno, Gavi, I know we don’t usually drink, but we have to, at least, have a shot and a glass of bubbly to celebrate your birthday and your official first club outing. Don’t worry! We will take care of you”

“Oh my god, Can I say no?” asked Gavi

“No, you cannot! Right, Pedri?” insisted Ansu

“Fuck it! It’s not that much! Let’s do it!” agreed Pedri

They all had a shot after screaming “Salud!” Gavi fucking hated it, it was straight gold tequila. He shooked his head. “Ok, I’m gonna try to be your wingman but first, we gotta work on your dance moves,” Ansu said as he poured a glass of champagne for each  “might be better after a bit of this.”

They spent the next hour making fun of each other, Ansu failing to make Gavi dance like him, then they danced on the VIP dance floor when a Quevedo song came on. They all sang and danced, while some girls joined around them, who eventually ended up dancing with them on the next reggeaton song that came on. Ansu was a natural dancer, Pedri was comfortable swaying his hips to reggeaton and Gavi did all right in his reserved manner. After the song ended Pedri gave the signal for them to go back to their booth area and invited the girls they were dancing with to tag along. They all started talking and Ansu asked for new glasses for the girls and gave them the rest of the Champaign while they all talked. The girls were visiting from Madrid and had decided to go clubbing, they explained. Gavi was sitting next to Penelope as she smiled, stared at him, and said “You have a baby face, you know? I’m 20, and I feel like sitting I’m next to a little kid” as she pulled away from him. Pedri, who was on the other side of Gavi, heard her and said “Yes, he does, doesn’t he?” grabbing Gavi’s chin “just look at those big eyes, they look at you and you just want to squeeze his face” Pedri joked “Oh, my” Penelope teased, “you noticed the power of the eyes too? Cute. Maybe you two should kiss”

Gavi’s stomach instantly got knotted up, and his heart skipped a beat, Why was she saying that for? he thought. Pedri gave Penelope a mean stare and said  “Or maybe, you should be the cute one that gives me a kiss”. The alcohol had made Pedri feel extra bold. “Hostia,” said Ansu under his breath, shocked by Pedri’s cockiness Penelope climbed over Gavi’s legs and kissed Pedri in front of everyone. They progressed from a small kiss to intense french kissing while Pedri held Penelope’s face with Gavi stuck in between them. Gavi was having a moment of panicked clarity while the rest of the group cheered them on in awe. Gavi fucking hated Penelope, he didn’t want her or wanted to kiss her but he definitely didn’t want her to be kissing Pedri. He didn’t want to kiss Pedri either, he thought, he didn’t like boys that way. Then, why was he so mad? He felt so jealous as he saw Pedri open his mouth to kiss Penelope. Sometimes he did feel warmer inside when Pedri was around or smiled when Pedri texted him. He started breathing harder and faster while his heart was racing, the room moved in slow motion. He felt a bit nauseous. “Can you two fuck off?” he shouted as he pushed Pedri and Penelope back to get out from between them, and stood up. 

“I’m going to the bathroom, I’ll be back” Gavi said as Pedri and the rest looked up at him a bit confused. He rushed into the bathroom and went into a bathroom stall. He used his hands to fan air onto his face. Gavi felt a rush of anxiety, he felt so confused by what he was feeling. Pedri was his friend, and a guy. He always liked girls, right? But he was confused about Pedri. Maybe he did want to kiss him, he wanted to the one who climb on top of someone else legs and kissed him. He told himself to get it together, he tried to control his breathing for a minute, he punched the bathroom stall wall and got out. He went to the bathroom sink, splashed some cold water on his face, dried himself and tried to fix his hair and outfit. 

He told himself in a whisper while looking in the mirror “Nobody will know, you can’t tell him, this is just a thing that will fade away. Let it go, Pablo.” He sighed.

As he approached the booth he saw Ansu was dancing and talking to Ines and Lucia, the two other girls, while Pedri and Penelope were smiling and talking to each other. Penelope had her legs over Pedri’s and he had his hands on her thighs. Gavi felt like someone had punched him in the stomach when he saw them. 

“Gavi! Sit! Penelope says she doesn’t follow football but her family is full of Atleti fans” said Pedri

“I’m going home, hermano, I’m calling an uber” Gavi said

“ What? Why?” asked Pedri as he moved Penelope and stood up.

“I don’t feel well” Gavi replied

“Then, I’ll go with you”

“You don’t have to, thanks”

“But I want to”

“It’s fine”

Pedri got closer to Gavi and said

“Stop being so fucking stubborn, I’m coming with you” 

“Are you leaving?” asked Penelope

“Yes, we are. Gavi’s not well. Send me a DM on IG with your number. I’ll look you up. When we go to Madrid next time we’ll see you, yea?” assured Pedri “I’ll DM you but I don’t believe you, at all,” Penelope said while smiling “Gracias por el beso .Thanks for the kiss” said Pedri and he pressed his lips on hers as a goodbye kiss

He turned to Gavi who had bigger and sadder eyes than normal. 

“Let’s tell Ansu and leave.” “Don’t order an uber. I’ll order one for us” -Pedri instructed Gavi when they walked out.

“What? We’re going to different places, Pedri” said Gavi “No, I think you should stay at my house tonight. You can stay in my guest room, I got a bunch of new clothes you can borrow. I’ll get Fer to make us breakfast or I’ll invite you to breakfast at this nice French place a few blocks from my house. I know tonight ended bad for you, a bust. I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you. Vale?” Pedri asked

Gavi looked confused but his lips formed a smile. “Okay” he replied

It was 9:45AM and Pedri has been up for an hour. He had drunk some water with lemon, he had already cleaned up and showered, got dressed, and even got some clothes ready for Gavi in a bag but the lazy bum hadn’t woken up yet. When it what 9:55 he decided to knock on the guestroom’s door to see if Gavi was almost up or beginning to get ready.  Nothing. He knocked again

“Gavi?” he inquired.

Silence. He decided to get the bag of clothes and just go in to wake him up. He was getting hungry, and honestly, bored of waiting. 

Gavi was still passed out, topless under the covers, sleeping on his left side on the left side of the bed with messy hair and some half curls touching his forehead. He actually looked quite peaceful, and sweet thought Pedri. He wanted to wake him up but instead, he just looked at him while he was sleeping. Unbeknownst to Gavi, Pedri had been battling with his own crush on Gavi for a month now, and it had been very painful. He felt guilty sometimes because Gavi was a very affectionate guy who was constantly hugging him and being playful, and he would get butterflies in his stomach every time it happened, but Gavi was clueless about his feelings. Pedri would stare at his light brown eyes and soft mouth every time he was telling a story, or talking to him in his car. He looked forward to seeing him at training or on game day. Goosebumps would show up on his skin every time Gavi kissed his neck, shoulder, or face whenever they celebrated a team goal. Every night, in bed, he would dread the idea of Gavi figuring it out and ruining their friendship. And yet, there he was, just standing over Gavi, watching his soft breathing. Pedri wanted to touch his hair, caress his cheeks and run his fingers down his neck and shoulder and just tell him “Please, wake up. I’m hungry” while Gavi slowly opened his eyes. Instead, he took a pillow from the bed and said 

“Wake up, cabrón” as he hit Gavi on the head with the pillow.

Gavi turned to cover his head “No!” he whined

“It’s almost 10 am and I’m hungry, you know I get hangry. Wake up!” scolded Pedri

Gavi sat up and stretched then said with a whine “Ok, just let me get cleaned up” while he rubbed the back of his head. “There’s a bunch of clothes here in this bag and new towels in the guest bathroom. Hurry up, we’re going down to the French place two blocks from here, Fer already left”

“Vale, vale. Avanzo. Ok, ok, I’ll hurry” 

As they both walked down to the French cafe they were mostly silent, each assuming the other was tired but they were both in their heads thinking about the other. As they sat down on an outside terrace table of the restaurant, waiting for their food and drinks after ordering at the register, Gavi sighed. “What’s up?” Pedri inquired

“Nothing, just tired” Gavi replied but couldn't help himself from making a sad face

“Oh” Pedri looked around trying of what to say next but just blurted out “So, what happened last night?”

“What do you mean?” said Gavi frowning

“Well, when...you disappeared to the bathroom?”

“Um.The alcohol didn’t mix well with me, I didn’t want to be sick in front of everyone”

“You puked?!”

“No, idiot, I didn’t puke”

“Oh, so, that’s why you wanted to leave so early? I thought it was kinda fun” Pedri shrugged

“Fun for you, obviously” Gavi snapped, frowning “¿Estás celoso? Are you jealous?” said Pedri while smirking 

Gavi blushed and flipped him off

“You’ll get to kiss whatever girl you want, Pablo Gavi from FC Barcelona, don’t worry” 

“Fuck off, Pedri,” said Gavi, angry that he couldn't even try to kiss the one he wanted

Pedri snickered and pushed him from the side. 

Just then a waiter came with their order as Gavi was trying his hardest to not lose it. Pedri’s questioning had made him nervous, he felt knots and butterflies all over his body. He couldn’t deny that what he felt last night was real because it was lingering on but he could never admit it to Pedri, he was too afraid, for himself and for their friendship. Meanwhile, Pedri sipped a bit of coffee and thought about how something between Gavi and him could never work out, even if he wanted it to with all his heart. He would just have to stay secretly in love with his friend. Pedri told himself to just keep acting normal.

“Do you need a ride to training, tomorrow? Or is Ansu taking you?’ asked Pedri

“You’re taking me” responded Gavi before drinking some water

“Obviously” affirmed Pedri with a grin on his face as he watch Gavi devour his breakfast.

[vagrantblvrd]

Rewrite All the Rules (3/?)

Summary: A series of fics and ficlets based on this list.

Warnings: Implied/referenced torture in this chapter.

AO3 - Chapter 3 - The Seams are Torn

Gavin is a bit of an enigma to Ryan.

It's difficult, sometimes, for him to resolve the grinning, devil-may-care idiot with the steely-eyed motherfucker with steady hands and a ruthless streak to rival his when it comes to protecting the things he cares about.

6. - Any tasks that are always left to one person?

Gavin is a bit of an enigma to Ryan.

It's difficult, sometimes, for him to resolve the grinning, devil-may-care idiot with the steel-eyed motherfucker with steady hands and a ruthless streak to rival his when it comes to protecting the things he cares about.

Ryan knows that kind of ruthlessness well. The kind that makes the hard choices when others can't, won't, and maybe it damns them a little bit more each time but it seems that's a price they're both willing to pay.

Geoff is cold, hard, when he needs to be. Can make a choice for the good of the crew even if it costs, but every time he does it leaves a mark. Sends him searching for redemption he's never going to find at the bottom of a bottle. Jack is a professional, knows damn well the things they do aren't nice, aren't pretty, but he draws a line long before the others do. Michael is fury and fire and passion, but it burns out when it comes to the things Ryan, Gavi, have done, had to do, and there's no shame in it.

Jeremy hasn't crossed the line yet, but he's on the edge. Just one gentle push from falling over to their side of it, and Ryan and Gavin do what they can to make sure that doesn't happen because Jeremy deserves better than that.

Better that they carry that burden than the others, the two of them, with their masks. Both broken in ways the others could never understand, and God, it had taken Ryan so long to see it, to realize.

“There, there, love,” Gavin says. Something soft, gentle in his voice as he pats the poor bastard's cheek lightly, hands covered in the man's blood. “That wasn't so hard now was it?”

There's a soft wheezing coming from the mess of a man in front of them, soft drip of blood falling on the floor of the empty office. The man's making a pained noise, low, terrified, as he stares at Gavin.

Spatters of blood on Gavin's face, on that designer shirt he'd bought earlier in the week for his part in the heist that had gone so horribly wrong. Left Michael with a bullet in his leg, and Jack with a slew of injuries from the crash. Left Jeremy with a broken arm, and Geoff with a fractured cheekbone and too many damn stitches marching along his jaw into his hairline. All of them lucky to be alive, although you wouldn't think it to hear them bitching.

Ryan shifts, drawing the man's attention. He can see the way the man's breathing picks up, like he'd forgotten Ryan was there. Los Santos' very own bogeyman, and he'd forgotten him in favor of Gavin.

Ramsey's Golden Boy, all flash and no substance and voted most likely to shoot himself in the foot, according to Michael and Geoff when they're being unkind.

Gavin throws a look over his shoulder at Ryan, eyebrow raised as the corner of his mouth ticks up. Something mean, dark in it as he turns his attention back on the poor bastard slowly bleeding his life away.

“Just imagine,” Gavin says, goddamn coos. “Just imagine love, if the Vagabond over there had gotten his hands on you.”

Borderline cruel with the way the man's eyes widen in panic, scrabbling uselessly against the restraints binding his arms to the chair. Breathing so fast he starts to hyperventilate because Gavin?

Oh, Gavin's done a number on the poor bastard.

Gotten them all the information they'd needed to track down the people who'd sold them out, every last one of them, but it hadn't been clean. Hadn't been easy.

Gavin grins, and stands.

“I need to call Geoff,” he says, brushing at imaginary lint on his shirt. “You mind finishing up here?”

Ryan nods, looking at the man, who's eyes are so wide he can see the white around the irises. “My pleasure.”

He means it more now than any other times he's said the words, played up his reputation and done what needed to be done because that's how it works in their world. How Los Santos works, but this time.

This little bastard is one of the ones who got their crew, their family hurt. Almost killed them.

It's one thing when shit goes wrong because of botched timing, or sheer dumb luck, but when someone actively sets out to screw them over, get them killed? Well that's another thing altogether, isn't it?

Ryan follows Gavin's slow, steady progress as he leaves the office, impressed in spite of himself. Gavin's hiding a limp, and it's easy for Ryan to read the way pain has his shoulders drawn tight, back impossibly straight to take the strain off his injuries.

Ryan's right arm hangs useless in a sling, teeth locked tight against the pain from his broken collar bone and other injuries he hasn't bothered to pinpoint because none of it mattered when they were the last two standing, however unsteadily, after everything.

He hates this, that his own injuries made it necessary for Gavin to take over this little interrogation session. Hates that he wouldn't have been able to put enough force into it, into making this bastard hurt, break, to get what they needed. Hates that that dirty little job had ended up in Gavin's hands this time around.

The man's watching him, and honestly, the way he's acting Ryan probably doesn't have to touch him to kill him. Just let him hyperventilate until he passes out and dies from bloodloss and call it good, but.

“See you in hell,” Ryan says, quiet, clear, because there's no way this bastard isn't headed there after everything he's done, and God knows there's a special place there for Ryan for what he's done, what he will do in the future if it means keeping the crew safe.

The man starts protesting, pleading, the way Gavin had over the comms, begging the others to fucking answer, just one fucking word, after things had gone to shit, but Ryan isn't listening. Isn't interested in whatever deal he's trying to swing, what he's trying to offer Ryan in exchange for his small, pitiful life.

Ryan may not have had the strength to wring answers from this bastard. Body weak where his mind isn't, but it doesn't take a lot of physical strength to pull a trigger, now does it? Anyone can do it, it's just that easy.

It's the rest that makes it hard.

The moral implications of taking a life, heavy weight that pulls on you, drags you down for the rest of yours because you decided your life or some other fucking thing was more important than someone else's, and that's something that should stick with you. Make you think about it before you do it a second time, or a third, or however many times you pull that trigger or use that knife or whatever method you use to end a life.

But Ryan, see.

He stopped thinking about that kind of shit a long time ago. Stopped letting that weight pull him down when bastards like this guy started coming after the people he cares about.

Ryan pulls out his gun and aims, does a little countdown because that's how thing like this go, isn't it?

Draw out the tension, the suspense a bit little longer.

3,

Let him see it coming before it happens.

2,

Let it really sink in that there's no last minute rescue coming, not for this bastard.

1.

Ryan pulls the trigger, easy as anything.

[pavardscherie]

― what i deserve ;; pablo gavi & pedri gonzalez ;; first snippet

⤷ pairing: pablo gavi x f!reader ;; pedri gonzalez x f!reader ⤷ summary: your relationship with gavi ended after he cheated on you. a year has passed, pedri always checked up on you with small messages until he invited you to one of the home games. somewhere between losing your heart to pedri; gavi still attempts to get you back. ⤷ warnings: curse words ;; injuries ;; mentions of blood ;; hand around throat ;; explicit sex scenes ;; asshole!gavi ;; cheating ;; violence in fights ;; spanking ;; dom & sub ;; dirty talk ;; teasing ;; very deep feelings & conversations ;; slight triangle thing but not most of the time ;; second chances kinda ;; friends to lovers ;; not proofread & probably horrible written kiss scenes lol ⤷ izzy's non-sense talk: a little, first snippet of what's coming, soon soon. my obsession with pedri is becoming unhealthy. loved the responses on the pov, so we're starting this & i really hope, the responses are good lol

Gavi was forced to watch, how Pedri's strong arms engulfed you in a comfortable, and tight hug. Lips pursed, blowing gentle kisses on the crown of your hair. Lips stretched out, a sweet smile appearing on your crimson-red colored mouth.

He never felt anxious around people, being in the middle of a crowd always was a large part of his current occupancy. But he was, as soon as you appeared close, and yet, so out of reach, to him.

Before you stepped into his life again, Gavi didn’t miss an inch of you. And even if it sounded brutal to state speak the truth, as the fame rose around the midfielder, he quietly enjoyed the attention of multiple women more than being bound to one. He was too young, too dumb to even realize what he threw away.

You could be in the middle of the stands, like the past games, wearing a jersey with his name on the back, with his number, and screaming his name so loud and cheerful. Instead, Pedri’s name decorated the Barcelona jersey, and he dedicated each goal to you after the Pedri Potter gesture. A heart in your direction, giving Gavi a reason for the aching pain in his chest afterwards.

It was brutal to see Pedri with you, he wished him the entire happiness of the world — just not with you by his side. You belonged to him first, his property, he marked all the places Pedri touched at night. The thin material of his jersey in one hand, Gavi pulled it up to wipe away the beads of sweat across his face.

And yet, he did not think about the fact that he flashed his trained stomach to the cameras, and the quick glance of your eyes in his direction. Merely seconds to take in the muscular package, before your attention focused completely on Pedri’s gentle touch again. Unfortunately for you, your gaze drifted way too slowly over Gavi’s frame, and he caught the small glance. Lips curled, a smug smirk plastered across his face when he realized, you still felt something, anything, for him.

A little spark must still burn in the pit of stomach, in the far corner of your chest, when he stepped into the room. The cold mask you applied over your sweet face for him didn’t match the genuine personality your carried like featherlight weight on your shoulders.

But Gavi walked out on you way too many times, taking a piece of your love with him each night. You wasted all your tears on him, until they dried quicker than they could fall down your cheeks. Somehow, over the months, it became easier for you to say goodbye to people than greet them in your life. You never wanted to feel this kind of pain again, attempted to lock yourself away from any feeling related to loving someone, because the fear of being pushed into the dirt over again, would be too much for your innocent soul.

Unfortunately, your plans failed ultimately when you accepted the first invitation to the game at Camp Nou. Pedri declined the choice you made, breaking down walls that were created over months, and opening his arms to let you fall again. What a fool you were, to believe, you could avoid Gavi, ignore his presence, or completely forget the feeling that still lingered, locked away, inside of you.

But he broke your heart too often, too careless; and the chance of winning you back slipped away when he walked out the door of your apartment that one night.

Rough fingertips placed underneath your chin, tilting your head upward to connect your unfocused gaze with Pedri's attentive stare. "Am I allowed to kiss you, or do you fear getting called my girlfriend by the newspapers?" The question was a gentle whisper, not just asking for your permission but also, the desire of wanting to know your deeper thoughts about what happened between the two of you.

Declining the gesture, the addictive taste of his pillow-like lips; would cause an unwanted amount of friction; and new questions in Pedri's head about what your honest intentions with him were. Accepting the kiss without sharing a doubt would put a title over your person, giving the confused fans and reporters exactly what they wanted for another headline about the popular midfielder.

It would cause Gavi at least a slight amount of pain, a piercing pain in his chest while witnessing the loving interaction between his best friend, and the woman he refused to keep by his side.

And somehow, the last thought of fucking up Gavi's confidence, his unchanging opinion about getting you back without doing anything, gave you enough confidence to stand on your tip-toes, lipstick-covered lips pressed against Pedri's. His arm draped over your shoulders, pulling you into his chest within the first second and gently kissing you back.

The fans that stayed behind for the celebration, hoping to capture the attention of one of the younger players, shared their opinions with loud screams and cheers. Words flew through the warm evening air but never reached your ears. The camera's around the pitch clicked, taking multiple pictures with flashlights to capture the perfect moment of the surprising action.

All over the newspapers, where you never wanted to read your name or see your face. Yet, you felt a warm, comforting feeling bubble in your stomach as Pedri pulled you as close as possible.