#pedri

Pairing: Pedri Gonzalez x Reader

Word Count: 1221

Request open!

Pedri’s sitting cross-legged on the couch, scrolling through his phone with a grin that can only mean trouble.

You lean over the back of the sofa, towel still wrapped around your wet hair.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing,” he says way too fast. His thumb flicks across the screen. “Just posted a picture.”

You narrow your eyes. “Pedri. What picture?”

He turns the screen toward you, all innocent. It’s a photo of his breakfast spread , pancakes, orange juice, and two mugs of coffee.

Your mug. The pink one with the little chipped heart.

“Pedri!” you gasp. “That’s mine! People will notice!”

He shrugs, utterly unbothered. “So? Maybe I just drink two coffees now. I’m a growing boy.”

You groan and toss your towel at him. “You’re impossible. You promised we’d keep things private.”

He catches the towel mid-air, smirking. “Private, yes. Secret, no. There’s a difference.”

“There’s not a difference when your fans have CSI-level detective skills,” you retort, grabbing your phone. “Wait,oh my god. They’re already talking about it.”

You scroll through Twitter , or, as Pedri calls it, the battlefield.

@pedrilover97: “two mugs?? who’s he having breakfast with 😭😭😭”

@barcagirlx: “that’s definitely a GIRL mug. I recognize the nail polish color from his story last week 👀”

@footballtea: “he’s SOFT LAUNCHING someone I just know it.”

You look up, half horrified, half laughing. “You’re trending again. #PedriSoftLaunch.”

Pedri’s grin widens. “#PedriSoftLaunch? That’s actually a great tag.”

“Don’t encourage them!” you say, swatting his arm.

He leans back, smug and far too calm for someone who’s just sent half the internet into a frenzy. “You have to admit, it’s funny.”

“You’re enjoying this.”

“Maybe,” he says, biting back a smile. “A little.”

That evening, you find him on the balcony, wearing one of his Barça hoodies and scrolling through fan edits of his own posts.

“They made a whole thread analyzing your kitchen tiles,” you say, holding up your phone.

He laughs. “My kitchen tiles?”

You nod gravely. “Someone zoomed in and matched them to a photo you took last summer. They know everything, Pedri.”

“That’s impressive, actually.” He scrolls again, face glowing from the screen. “Wait,this one says you’re secretly a chef. I like that one.”

“I’m a psychology major, not Gordon Ramsay!”

“Eh,” he says, waving you off. “Close enough. You’ve psychoanalyzed me while I eat your cooking. That’s balance.”

You cross your arms. “You’re impossible.”

Pedri looks up, grin softening. “But you love me.”

You sigh, fighting the smile tugging at your lips. “Unfortunately.”

He laughs, leaning in to kiss your temple. “Come here, mystery girl.”

The next day, the soft-launching gets worse.

You wake up to another Pedri post , a blurry mirror selfie of him in the hallway. Your reflection is barely visible behind him, holding your phone.

“PEDRI!” you yell from the kitchen.

He yells back, “What? I blurred it!”

You storm into the room, waving your phone. “I can still see my silhouette!”

He peers at the screen. “That could be anyone.”

“It’s me! I’m literally wearing your hoodie!”

He grins, completely unrepentant. “Good. Now they’ll think I have great taste.”

You throw a pillow at his head. “Stop being cute when I’m trying to be mad at you!”

He catches it, laughing. “Sorry, amor. Can’t help it.”

You flop down beside him with a dramatic sigh. “You’re going to break the internet at this rate.”

“That’s fine,” he says, sliding an arm around your shoulders. “As long as they don’t find you.”

You snort. “They already have a spreadsheet of possible candidates. I saw someone saying I’m a makeup artist from Madrid.”

Pedri grins. “Well, you do my eyebrows sometimes.”

“That doesn’t count!”

He shrugs, pulling you closer. “I like keeping them guessing.”

By midweek, the fandom’s gone feral.

People are analyzing his playlists, your nail polish, the background furniture , even the way his smile looks “happier lately.”

You both spend the evening doomscrolling and laughing on the couch.

“Listen to this one,” you say between giggles. “‘The mystery girl has small hands based on reflection physics, probably around 5’3”’.”

Pedri laughs so hard he nearly drops his phone. “Reflection physics? No way.”

“Oh, there’s more. Another one says you’ve been soft-launching for seven months based on the presence of a second toothbrush in your bathroom.”

He wipes tears of laughter from his eyes. “They’re not wrong, though.”

You blink at him. “Wait, are you admitting it?”

He shrugs. “What can I say? I like having my girl’s toothbrush next to mine.”

You groan. “Stop being sweet when I’m trying to yell at you!”

He grins, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “Can’t help it.”

But things take a turn when you make a mistake.

It’s late , you’re curled up on the couch in Pedri’s jersey, watching highlights from the last match. You post a quick Instagram story: your legs on the couch, the TV showing Pedri’s goal, and his hoodie draped on the armrest. You don’t even think about it.

Thirty seconds later, your phone explodes.

DMs. Mentions. Notifications.

@barcafangirl: “THE JERSEY. THAT’S PEDRI’S JERSEY. SAME NUMBER. SAME ROOM.”

@pedrilover97: “the couch matches his last pic 😭😭😭”

@footballtea: “SHE SLIPPED. SHE POSTED. CONFIRMED.”

“Oh. My. God.” you whisper, watching it all unfold. “I just soft launched myself.”

Pedri walks in from the kitchen, bowl of cereal in hand. “What happened?”

You look up at him, horrified. “I think I just… hard-launched our relationship.”

He sets the bowl down, eyes widening. “You what?”

“Look!” you shove the phone at him. “They found me! It’s everywhere already!”

Pedri scrolls through the chaos, then bursts out laughing. “You lasted longer than I thought, cariño.”

“This isn’t funny!”

He grins, utterly calm. “It’s kind of funny.”

“Pedri!”

“Okay, okay,” he says, holding up his hands in surrender. “What do you want to do?”

You bury your face in your hands. “Delete everything. Move to Antarctica. Change my name.”

He chuckles, tugging your hands away gently. “Or… we could just post a photo.”

You blink. “A real one?”

He nods, smiling softly. “Might as well. You look too pretty to hide.”

Your heart stutters. “You’re serious?”

“Completely.” He scrolls to the camera app, flips it to selfie mode, and pulls you close. “Come here, mystery girl.”

You laugh, cheeks warm, leaning into him. “You’re going to cause chaos.”

“Good chaos,” he says, snapping the photo , both of you smiling, cozy and unfiltered.

Within minutes, he posts it.

Caption: No more soft launch 💙.

Your phone explodes instantly. Comments flood in.

@barcagirlx: “I KNEW IT! SHE’S SO PRETTY 😭”

@footballtea: “soft launch era is over 🫶”

@pedrilover97: “they look so happy together 🥹”

You read a few aloud and glance at Pedri, who’s scrolling too.

He looks up, eyes warm and shining. “See? Not so bad.”

You smile. “You’re right.”

He grins. “I usually am.”

You roll your eyes, nudging him playfully. “Don’t push it.”

He laughs, pulling you closer until your head rests on his shoulder. “For the record,” he murmurs, “I liked the soft launch. But I like this better.”

You look up at him, smiling softly. “Yeah. Me too.”

He tilts his head, lips brushing your forehead. “Told you. Private, not secret.”

You chuckle, closing your eyes. “Whatever you say, influencer.”

Summary: You decided to prank your boyfriend and see how he would react to you leaving late at night.

A/N: Prank inspired by @chriskeverian on TikTok. My Request Are Open. Please Follow, Like, And Reblog.

Lamine Yamal -

Lamine was half asleep on the couch when he heard your bedroom door open. At first he didn’t pay attention but then he looked up. And immediately sat straight up. You were fully dressed with your hair and makeup done. And in a cute outfit with a matching purse. You looked like a goddess but then he checked the time seeing it just struck midnight.

“…Amor where are you going?” You looked at your phone casually. “Oh, I’m going out.” “Out?” “Yeah.” Lamine checked the clock again and seeing its 12:03 AM. His brain visibly stopped working.

“OUT WHERE?” You shrugged. “Just meeting someone.” The silence was deafening. “Someone?”“Yeah.” Lamine immediately stood up. “Who is this someone?” You bit your lip to stop yourself from laughing.

His eyes narrowed then he spotted your phone recording. “…You’re annoying sometimes.” You burst out laughing hugging Lamine as he wrapped his arms around you. “I almost had a heart attack.”

Pedri -

You called out to Pedri from the bathroom saying you were about to head out. Pedri looked up from his book then looked at you. And he looked at the clock and back at you.

“Why are you dressed like that?” You smiled innocently.“I told you I’m going out.” “Now?” “Yep.” Pedri blinked.“It’s midnight.” “I know.” “Well are you meeting anyone or are you going to be alone?” You pretended to think. “Hm.” Pedri immediately closed his book.

“Don’t do that.” “Do what?” “Don’t ‘hm’ me.” You laughed and his suspicion grew. “You’re filming this.”You failed to hide your smile and Pedri sighed.

“I knew it.” Then he grabbed your hand and pulled you onto the couch. “Sit down.”

Gavi -

The moment Gavi saw you he froze. You looked absolutely amazing which was the problem because it was midnight.

“Where are you going?” “Out.” “No.” “No?” “No.” You stared and stared right back at you. Which was hard because you tried not to laugh.

Gavi pointed toward the window. “Do you not see how dark it is outside?” “Yes.” “Then why are you dressed like that?” You immediately lost it and Gavi groaned.

“You’re pranking me.” “Maybe.” “I knew it.” He absolutely did not.

Joao Félix -

Joao was scrolling through his phone when you walked into the room. His jaw dropped as you stood infront of looking gorgeous. Then his brain processed the time and he saw it was 12:01 AM.

“Meu bem?” “Yeah?” “Where are you going?” You picked up your purse. “Out.” Joao frowned.

“With who?” “A friend.” “A friend?” “Yes.” He just stared at you while you put on your heels. Then João stood up.

“No.” You laughed. “What do you mean no?” “I mean no.” “You can’t tell me no.” “I can when it’s midnight and you’re looking like that.”

You couldn’t even finish the prank because you were laughing too hard. Let’s just say Joao just dragged you into bed with him.

Richard Ríos -

Richard looked genuinely confused. He wasn’t angry or jealous just simply confused.

“Did I forget something?” “What?” “A party?” “No.” “A birthday?” “No mi amor.” You laughed a bit. He looked at your outfit then at the clock.

“Then why are you dressed like that?” “I’m going out.”“Oh.” A pause. “Wait.” You started laughing. “You’re setting me up.” “How?” “There’s no way this is real.”And he was absolutely correct.

Kylian Mbappe -

Kylian immediately noticed the second you walked downstairs. “Princesse.” You smiled. “What?” “You look beautiful.” “Awe thank you.”

Then he looked at the clock. And he could see it was 12:07 AM. The compliments now disappearing from his mind.

“Where are you going?” “Out.” His eyes narrowed.“Out?.” “Yes.” “At midnight?” “Yes.” “Without me?”

You nodded and Kylian stood up. “No.” You burst out laughing. “No because now I know this is a prank.”“How?” “Because if you were actually going somewhere, I’d already know.”

And is Kylian wrong here? No, no he is not.

Virgil van Dijk -

Virgil was too calm it was suspicious. He was lying down on the bed as you walked onto the room. You were fully dressed and ready to go.

“Hey.” Virgil looked up. “Hi.” “I’m heading out.” “Okay.”You froze. “Okay?” “Yeah.” You blinked. “You’re not gonna ask where?” “No.” “What if it’s dangerous?”“You’ll tell me if it’s dangerous.”

You just stared at him laying down eyes still on the tv. The prank was failing miserably then Virgil smiled. “You’ve been standing there waiting for me to react for thirty seconds.” He laughed at your surprised reaction.

“I got you.” As he laughed pulling you into bed with him.

Memo Ochoa -

Memo looked up from the kitchen with his coffee nearly hitting the floor.

“Wow.” You smiled. “Wow?” “You look beautiful.” You grinned as you picked up your purse.

“I’m heading out.” Memo checked the clock then checked it again. Because he was believing you were leaving at 12:04 AM.

“…No you’re not.” You almost laughed. “Yes I am.” “No.”“Why not?” “Because it’s midnight.” “So?” Memo crossed his arms. “So where are you going?”

“Out.” “With who?” “A friend.” Memo immediately looked offended. “A friend gets to see you looking like that at midnight and I don’t?” You burst out laughing and the realization hit him.

His eyes narrowed. “You really scared me.” “Got you.”Memo shook his head while laughing. Then pulled you into a hug.

barca p!links

marcus giving you slow and steady strokes

riding hector as he sucks on your boobs

pau using a viberator while he fucks you

morning sex with lewandowski

drunk sex with gavi

hector caressing your body that he loves so much

pedri fucking you with your robe on

fermin eating you out like his life depends on it

you taking ferran down your throat like a good girl

Love your work xx

current boyfriend

pairings: pablo gavi x reader,, pedri x reader ferran torres x reader, pau cubarsi x reader, hector fort x reader, alejandro balde x reader, lamine yamal x reader, marc bernal x reader

summary: in which you do the current boyfriend trend on your boyfriend

warnings: none!

pablo gavi

you’re tucked against pablo’s side on a rainy afternoon in barcelona, his hoodie drowning you, your legs tangled with his under the blankets. the soft hum of the tv plays in the background, some old barça match he keeps watching like he doesn’t know how it ends.

he’s got his phone resting on his stomach, barely paying attention. you, on the other hand, are holding yours up sneakily — recording already.

you glance at him, then at the camera, trying not to smile.

“vale,” you whisper to yourself, clearing your throat dramatically. “hi everyone! so today we will be seeing how well my current boyfriend knows me.”

pablo’s head turns so fast you nearly drop the phone.

“¿cómo que novio actual?” he says, brows furrowing, voice full of dramatic offense. “perdona?”

you can’t help it — you burst into laughter.

he sits up, pushing the blanket off his chest like he’s ready to fight an invisible threat.

“actual? like… like i’m temporary?” he blinks, eyes wide. “so what am i? a trial version?”

you’re giggling uncontrollably now, clutching your stomach as he starts pacing the end of the bed like a man betrayed.

“ah, i see. this is why you didn’t want me to meet your tía at easter. you were planning my expiration date.”

“pablo!” you squeal, still laughing, “it’s a tiktok trend!”

he stops mid-step and looks at you, dead serious. “you think trends will save you when i’m heartbroken? huh?”

you fall back onto the bed in tears (from laughing), and he finally cracks a grin. crawling back over, he snatches your phone and flips the camera around.

“listen,” he says, addressing the imaginary audience with one hand around your waist, “i am not her current boyfriend. i am her only. su único. por siempre.”

you try to roll your eyes but he kisses your cheek dramatically, then mumbles into your skin:

“y si algún día dice que me va a dejar… no va a poder. porque ya la puse en el grupo familiar.”

“you added me to the family whatsapp, pablo. that doesn’t make us married.”

“sí que sí. you’ve seen the memes. it’s forever now.”

you look at him, still flushed from laughter, and suddenly he’s soft. less chaotic. just him. warm brown eyes, a slightly crooked smile, and the way his thumb brushes against your hip like he doesn’t even notice he’s doing it.

“oye,” he says, quieter now, “if i was actually your current boyfriend… would you tell me if you were planning to replace me?”

you blink. he’s joking, but also kind of not. there’s a flash of real feeling behind his teasing.

you lean in and kiss him, slow and certain.

“you’re not my current anything, pablo,” you murmur against his lips. “you’re my always.”

he exhales like he’s been holding that breath for years.

then — with zero warning — he grabs the phone again.

“and that’s how you win, chicos. take notes.”

pedri

you’re curled up on pedri’s bed, face half-buried in his pillow, phone in one hand, feet nudging at his side. he’s sitting up next to you, back against the headboard, scrolling aimlessly through some article about barça tactics like it’s the most thrilling novel on earth.

he doesn’t notice you start recording. not at first.

you turn the camera toward the two of you, face blank, voice casual.

“hola chicos,” you whisper. “today im here with my current boyfriend.”

his head turns so fast it’s like he heard a whistle blow.

“¿qué?” pedri says, blinking. “current boyfriend?!”

you turn to him, eyebrows raised like you’ve just been asked what 2+2 is. “yeah?”

his mouth opens. closes. opens again. he looks genuinely stunned. like he’s been called offside while standing still.

“‘current boyfriend’?” he repeats slowly, like he’s trying to translate it into something that makes sense. “me estás vacilando, ¿no?”

you furrow your brow, all wide-eyed innocence. “what? that’s just… what people say.”

“no, it’s not,” he says, staring at you like you’ve personally rewritten the dictionary. “that’s what you say when you’re... i don’t know. rotating the squad.”

you blink. “rotating the squad?”

“like you’ve got backups. a bench.”

you gasp. “you think i have backup boyfriends?”

pedri folds his arms across his chest, staring you down. “well. apparently i’m the current one, so.”

“pedri,” you giggle, crawling over to him. “you’re being silly.”

“am i?” he says, fake offended. “who’s next, then? ferran? ansu? don’t lie.”

you bite your lip to keep from laughing. “hmm. héctor.”

“wow,” he says. “so you’re into the young guys now. okay.”

you lean your head on his shoulder, still recording. he stays frozen, arms crossed, pretending to be emotionally wounded.

you poke his cheek. “you know i’m joking, right?”

“don’t talk to me,” he mutters, nose scrunching as he hides his smile. “i need to reevaluate my relationship status.”

you kiss his jaw softly. “you’re not my current boyfriend.”

he perks up slightly. “no?”

you shake your head sweetly. “you’re my favorite one.”

his face drops again. “that’s worse.”

you laugh, full-on now, as he reaches over and tries to snatch your phone.

“delete it,” he says, but he’s grinning. “delete it or i’m telling your mom you bullied me.”

ferran torres

you didn’t mean to prank him.

well. okay. you kind of did.

you’d seen the “current boyfriend” videos all over tiktok lately—girls casually calling their long-term boyfriends “my current boyfriend” and capturing their reactions. most of them blinked. some looked offended. some acted like it was the end of the world.

you had a strong feeling ferran would fall into the last category.

he was in your kitchen now, quietly snacking on cereal out of the box, hoodie sleeves pulled over his hands, hair still messy from his post-training nap.

you turned your phone to selfie mode and whispered, “okay guys... this is my current boyfriend.”

you angled the camera toward him.

ferran looked up, mid-chew. smiled automatically—then blinked.

“…wait.”

he squinted.

“current?”

you bit your lip, trying not to smile.

he slowly lowered the cereal box like it was suddenly very heavy. “what do you mean current, cariño?”

“you know,” you say, way too casually, “like… my boyfriend for now.”

he tilted his head, fully confused.

“for now??? am i... am i on a trial period or something?” he blinked. “is there a deadline?? did i miss a meeting???”

you cracked, laughing into your sleeve.

ferran pouted. properly pouted. full lips pulled down, forehead creased, arms crossed loosely in front of him like a kicked puppy.

“wow. i was gonna share the cereal with you,” he muttered.

“you never share cereal with me.”

“yeah well. current me was about to.” he glanced at your phone. “are you recording this?? oh my god.”

you put your phone down and walked over, wrapping your arms around him lightly. he didn’t hug you back immediately. just stood there, all soft and betrayed.

“you know you’re not just my current boyfriend, right?” you said into his hoodie.

he was quiet for a second. then—

“…okay but like. just to be clear. i’m the final boyfriend? like. endgame? credits roll?”

you smiled into his chest. “final boss.”

he let out a tiny sigh of relief, rested his chin on your head, and mumbled, “okay. but no more ‘current’. i almost had a heart attack. i thought i got dumped mid-cheerio.”

pau cubarsi

you were half sprawled on the couch, bored, lazy, and dangerously close to falling asleep, when your phone buzzed with yet another “current boyfriend prank” video.

you’d seen like six today, and every time, the boyfriend's reaction made you giggle. confused, dramatic, sometimes genuinely offended.

and now you were eyeing pau, who was across the room trying very seriously to fold laundry—his tongue poking out slightly as he focused on folding a t-shirt into a perfect square.

too perfect an opportunity.

you opened your front camera, hit record, and called out in your sweetest voice, “hey guys, just wanted to introduce you to my current boyfriend…”

pau looked up instantly, soft brown eyes lighting up—until he processed the words.

“...your what?”

you tried not to laugh. “my current boyfriend.”

he blinked. once. twice. his whole expression shifted—eyebrows furrowing, nose scrunching, lips forming the tiniest pout.

“current?” he stood there holding your hoodie like it had personally betrayed him. “what do you mean current, amor?”

you bit your lip, pretending to stay casual. “you know… the boyfriend i have right now.”

he dropped the hoodie. full-on stared at you. “so i’m just a phase now? like… like a monthly subscription?”

you snorted.

“pau—”

“no no. don’t even,” he cut in, arms now crossed over his chest. “what happens after me? is there a waitlist? auditions?”

you couldn’t stop giggling now. he was so serious about it, even as his pout deepened and he looked away like the most offended golden retriever alive.

“i folded your clothes,” he added quietly. “i was gonna make you toast.”

“and i love you for it,” you grinned, putting your phone down and padding over to him. you wrapped your arms around his waist and leaned into his chest. “you know i’m joking. you’re not just my current boyfriend, you’re my forever boyfriend.”

pau looked down at you, still pretending to be mad but already melting. “you can’t just call me current and then snuggle your way out of it.”

“i can if you like snuggles.”

he let out a dramatic sigh. “…i do.”

you reached up to boop his nose. “thought so.”

he finally smiled—barely—but then buried his face in your hair and mumbled, “i’m unfollowing you on tiktok.”

“no you’re not.”

“okay but only because you smell nice.”

hector fort

you’d been meaning to try the “current boyfriend” prank on héctor for days... héctor is chill. confident. annoyingly hard to rattle. but you knew if you caught him off guard, you’d get something out of him.

and today felt like the right day.

he was lying on your bed, arms behind his head, scrolling through something on his phone with his usual “i’m bored but also deeply unbothered” expression. he was wearing grey sweats, socks half on, one of his training shirts, and just existing in your space like it was his second home.

you hit record quietly.

“hey guys,” you said, voice sweet. “just wanted to show you my current boyfriend.”

his eyes immediately flicked over to you.

“...sorry?” he raised an eyebrow. “current?”

you blinked innocently. “yeah. my boyfriend at the moment.”

he let out a small laugh. one of those “you’re not serious” kinds of laughs.

“nah. no way you just said that.” he sat up slightly, resting on one elbow. “you really called me your current boyfriend? that’s crazy.”

you bit back a smile. “what? you are.”

he gave you a look. “babe. be serious. i’ve met your mom. i have a drawer here. i help you parallel park. we’re past current.”

you snorted. “parallel parking makes you permanent?”

“yes.” he leaned forward, still smirking. “also you kissed me this morning and said ‘i’m obsessed with you’ so...”

“i don’t recall—”

“i do. you were wearing my hoodie. looked very in love. kinda embarrassing for you.”

you groaned. “you’re so cocky.”

he shrugged, smug as ever. “i’m your forever boyfriend. you said it, not me.”

alejandro balde

you’d been scrolling through tiktok all day, watching all these “current boyfriend” prank videos where girls called their boyfriends “current” and got hilariously confused or offended reactions.

and then you caught alejandro just chilling on the couch, sneakers off, socks barely hanging on, flicking through his phone with that lazy grin of his.

you smirked.

“okay, let’s see what happens.”

you grabbed your phone, hit record, and with your sweetest, most casual voice said, “hey guys, this is my current boyfriend.”

alejandro looked up instantly, eyebrow twitching. “wait, current?”

you smiled, trying to keep it innocent. “yeah, like, the boyfriend i have right now.”

he blinked, then gave you a mock scandalized look. “current? so like… i’m temporary? a loaner? what’s the deal?”

you laughed. “no! it’s just a prank, chill.”

he threw his head back dramatically. “ay nooo, you’re breaking my heart over here.” then he wiggled closer and poked your side, grinning. “but if i’m just current, does that mean you might get a better one next week?”

you rolled your eyes but smiled. “no one’s better than you, ale.”

he smirked, looking all confident but his eyes softening. “good answer. because i’m staying.”

then he reached over and stole a quick kiss, still grinning. “current? nah. i’m forever.”

lamine yamal

you and lamine had been hanging out all afternoon — just snacks, music, and lazily throwing popcorn at each other while you argued over who had the better spotify taste. (spoiler: it was you, obviously.)

he was lying across your bed now, halfway on his stomach, hoodie sleeves all bunched up, phone in one hand while his other reached for snacks he wasn’t even looking at.

you sat down at the edge of the bed, grabbed your phone, and pressed record quietly.

“hey guys,” you whispered, trying to keep your voice level. “just wanted to show you my current boyfriend.”

you angled the camera to show lamine, still flopped on the bed. he turned his head slowly.

“…your what?” he blinked. sat up slightly. “nah. say that again.”

you smiled innocently. “my current boyfriend.”

he made a face — somewhere between “wtf” and “am i being pranked.”

“current is wild,” he muttered, sitting all the way up now. “you sayin’ there’s, what, a next one coming soon? someone on the bench or what?”

you laughed, trying to stay in character. “i’m just saying… things change, you know?”

“nah nah nah,” he said, holding up a hand, clearly fighting a smile but also a little bit serious now. “you can’t say stuff like that. i do math homework with you. i let you put your makeup on me last week. i carried your tote bag.”

“and i appreciate it, current boyfriend.”

he gasped. dramatic.

“don’t call me that. take it back.”

“you’re so offended.”

“i am offended,” he said, half-laughing. “i thought i was him. i thought i was ‘final boss boyfriend’. this is crazy.”

you giggled and finally leaned in to stop recording, flopping onto the bed beside him. “baby, i’m joking.”

he rolled his eyes but you could tell he was smiling for real now.

“you better be. ‘cause i already planned our next 5 dates and i’m not deleting them.”

you turned to look at him. “you planned five?”

“yes. and one of them includes gelato. you’d regret losing me.”

you laughed again, pressing your face into his hoodie. “you’re ridiculous.”

he smirked, brushing a crumb off your forehead.

“and permanent. don’t forget that part.”

marc bernal

you were sitting on your bedroom floor, half-folding laundry, half-pretending to be productive, while marc lay stretched out on your bed — arms behind his head, legs crossed, watching you with that small, steady smile he always had around you.

he wasn’t saying much, just watching. you knew that look. it was the “i like being here” look. the “i’m too comfortable to move” look. the “you’re my peace” look.

you smirked to yourself and grabbed your phone.

“okay,” you whispered into the mic, “so i just wanted to show you guys my current boyfriend.”

marc blinked. slowly sat up.

“…your what?”

you kept a straight face. “my current boyfriend.”

he just stared for a second, head tilted slightly, his expression somewhere between confused and mildly offended.

“current?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow. “like... as in, temporary?”

“mhm,” you said, pretending to focus on folding a hoodie. “he’s great for now.”

he let out a short breath, then slowly got off the bed and walked over, sitting down next to you on the floor.

“so when does my contract expire?” he asked, teasingly calm. “or do i get to renegotiate?”

you smiled, finally meeting his eyes. “depends. you offering long-term?”

marc gave a soft little huff of a laugh, then leaned his shoulder against yours.

“preciosa. i already signed for forever.”

you laughed under your breath. “you sure?”

he nodded. “one hundred percent.” then, just a little pouty, added, “but it did hurt. hearing you say current. like i’m on loan or something.”

you nudged his arm. “i was just messing with you. you’re my one and only, bernal.”

he gave a small, quiet grin, and you could tell he’d already forgiven you.

“…still rude, though.”

THE BARÇA BOYS AS BOYFRIENDS

⁀➴┊includes: ferran torres, pedri gonzalez, pablo gavi, alejandro balde x 𝒇!reader

FERRAN TORRES

⁀➴┊okay, first things first. i think ferran just likes his women smart. he loves to be able to learn from you, to look up to you. he loves to admire you. whenever you’re telling him a story about what happened at work, he’d listen so intently, his eyes glistening. or whenever you use specific jargon, he’d literally think to himself in wonder that he’s bagged such a smart, intelligent and competent girl.

B-DAY HEADCANONS with lamine, gavi, & pedri

inwhich! i write you headcanons of what lamine yamal, pablo gavi, and pedri gonzalez would do for you on your birthday.

frannytalks! you guys have me working overtime 😞, but keep the requests coming i’m having sm fun, ty for all the support recently! don’t forget to join my taglist(s) here!