Promise you that'll make a baby with you , Make a momma of you - Gavi
After the shocking news of an unexpected pregnancy at just 19, you and Gavi are forced to grow up fast. Now, months later, the baby decides to come early — right in the middle of one of Barça’s biggest matches. With Pedri as your panic-stricken birthing partner, Gavi racing from the stadium, and emotions at an all-time high, the journey into parenthood begins in the most chaotic, heartwarming way possible. Featuring godfather Pedri in full crybaby mode, a stadium’s worth of love, and Gavi being Gavi: emotional, extra, and absolutely in love. - The Neighbourhood , Jealou$y
Pablo Gavi x Reader (ft Pedri, Gavis Family, Barça Players)
Warnings: Language (in both English & Spanish) , Descriptions of childbirth/labor (nothing overly graphic) , Emotional themes , Lots of crying , Pedri nearly passing out from stress (I had to add this) , PROBABLY BADLY WRITTEN SPANISH IM STILL LEARNING
The Neighbourhood Lyrics Masterlist - ⌂
Camp Nou – VIP Box
You gripped the edge of your seat, trying to breathe through the tightness spreading across your stomach. At first, you thought it was just nerves. Then warmth rushed down your legs.
You blinked. “Pedri…”
He was on his phone, half-watching the game. “Hmm?”
“Pedri.”
He looked over—and saw the panic in your eyes before he noticed the puddle beneath your chair.
“Oh, mierda.” He jumped up, already fumbling for his phone. “Vale, no entres en pánico…”
“Estoy teniendo el bebé, Pedri! AHORA MISMO!”
“It’s okay, it’s okay, breathe. I got you,” he said, kneeling next to you. “You’re good. You’ll be fine.”
You grabbed his hoodie and screamed as another contraction hit.
“Ay DIOS, me está MATANDO!”
“Tú puedes, vale? Vamos. We’re going. I’m calling the car—” he rambled, speaking rapid-fire as he motioned for security.
“¿Dónde está Pablo? ¿Por qué no está aqu�”
Pedri helped you into the wheelchair. “He’s still playing. But don’t worry — I texted him. He’s gonna come. I swear.”
⸻
At the Hospital – 20 minutes later
You were already in a gown, gripping the bedrails like they were lifelines. Pedri sat by your head, holding a cool cloth to your forehead with shaking hands.
“¿Puedes verme? Mira mis ojos, vale? Solo respira conmigo,” he said.
You gasped, “Dios mĂo, esto duele más de lo que pensĂ©!”
“I know, I know, I’m so sorry,” he said, visibly panicked. “Estás siendo tan valiente, joder… nunca habĂa visto algo asĂ.”
“I CAN’T DO THIS—”
“Yes, you can. Yes, you are. Look at you! You’re doing it right now!”
⸻
Back at Camp Nou
Gavi was still in the game, unaware, until his phone buzzed on the bench.
A message from Pedri:
Your girl is in labor. We’re at the hospital.
Coach glanced at the message, then at Gavi. “Vamos,” he muttered, waving him over.
Gavi jogged toward him, confused. “¿Qué pasa?”
The coach smiled knowingly. “Buena suerte… y felicidades, papá.”
Gavi froze, realization hitting like a freight train. He sprinted off the pitch, waving off the crowd’s confusion.
Shower. Clothes. Bag. Phone. Car.
⸻
Labor room
Back in the labor room, pedri is still doing his best to calm down his best friend, and himself.
Then the door slammed open.
“MI AMOR!” Gavi’s voice cracked as he ran in, bag still slung over his shoulder. He looked wild — flushed from the sprint, hair damp from a quick shower.
Pedri stood and stumbled back. “Oh thank God. I’m OUT. I’m so out.” He threw his hands up and bolted out the door like a soldier who’d seen too much.
Gavi raced to your side. “Estoy aquĂ, mi amor . Estoy aquĂ. PerdĂłname por no estar antes.”
You burst into a fresh round of tears as he kissed your temple and took your hand. “I was so scared.”
“I know, I know. But I’m here now. We’ve got this, okay?”
You squeezed his hand like it was your last anchor.
⸻
Delivery Room – Hours Later
Your screams filled the air, but you barely heard them. All you felt was the pressure, the burn, the need to finish this. Gavi never left your side, whispering to you constantly.
“Eres increĂble, juro por Dios… Nunca te habĂa amado tanto,” he murmured.
Tears streamed down your face as you bore down one last time—
And then the cry filled the room.
You gasped. “Is that—?”
Gavi looked at the nurse in awe. “¿Está bien? ¿Está bien él?”
“Si,si.” the nurse smiled, gently laying your newborn son onto your chest.
You let out a sob, holding your baby for the first time. “He’s so… tiny.”
Gavi sat beside you, tears streaming. “Nuestro hijo… mĂralo.”
⸻
Recovery Room – Later
The door creaked open slowly. “¿Puedo entrar?” Pedri whispered, peeking his head in.
You smiled, exhausted but glowing. “Si, godfather.”
He froze. “What?”
You glanced at Gavi. “We talked about it. We want you to be his padrino.”
Pedri blinked, then walked in like a zombie and looked down at the baby in your arms. He reached out, gently took him, and sat in the chair nearby.
Then he started crying.
“¿Qué te pasa, Ri?” you laughed weakly.
“No sé… es que… he’s beautiful. I just—” His voice cracked. “You guys are like family.”
⸻
A couple hours later
The room you were set in was now full of Barça Teammates, Coaches, and Gavi’s Family
Soon, the whole room was buzzing. Teammates poured in. Coaches shook Gavi’s hand. Someone brought cupcakes. Pedri’s family showed up and hugged you like their own daughter.
Then the door opened again—and in walked Gavi’s mom.
The room went quiet.
You tensed immediately, holding your son a little tighter. Gavi noticed and placed a hand protectively on your back.
But then his mom crossed the room, eyes on you—not the baby—and gently sat beside you.
Without saying a word, she leaned in and wrapped her arms around you.
“Lo hiciste muy bien,” she whispered, brushing hair from your forehead.
Your lip trembled. You melted into her shoulder and cried again, this time from relief.
⸻
Later that night
The room had cleared out. Gavi sat beside you, his arm around your shoulder as you held your baby in your arms. His fingers brushed over the tiny ones poking out of the blanket.
“Somos tan jóvenes… pero mira lo que hicimos,” he whispered.
You turned to him with tired, misty eyes. “Lo hicimos juntos.”
He leaned down, kissed your forehead, then smirked—classic Gavi mischief lighting up his eyes.
“Te lo dije, ¿no? Que iba a hacerte mamá.”
You turned slowly, face blank. “Did you seriously just say that?”
He grinned. “PrometĂ, y lo cumplĂ.”
You swatted his arm. “Idiota.”
“Mm, pero sexy.”
You groaned and looked down at your baby. “You’re gonna grow up with a dad who thinks he’s funny. I’m so sorry.”
Gavi just laughed, resting his head on your shoulder as you both stared at the tiny life you made together.
“Todo por ti,” he whispered.
Note: this was part 2 of this fic - part 1
