Summary: A compilation of the type of boyfriend I think Ferran would be ✨️
Warnings: cursing.
A/N: @11fer here's your credits 🤨
He's the type to give you random gifts when he's away during a game, always saying <just because>
"Hey, are you already on your way to uni?" He asks.
"I mean, I'm almost out the door. Why?"
"Oh, nothing." He giggles. "Just wondering."
You frown at his giggles. "Okay, weirdo." You laugh. "How was the flight? Did you eat anything?"
"I shared a sandwich with Pedri."
"Of course you did." You roll your eyes while smiling. There's no day this man wouldn't do anything with his work wife named Pedri. "Was it good?"
"Meh."
You talk with him while you check your bag one last time. You grab your house and car keys. He hears your front door and your car door closing.
"Hey, do me a favor."
"Dime, amor." You say, switching to the car speakers so you can place everything you have in the seat next to you without having to have your phone in hand.
"Check the backseat for me."
"What?" You ask, confused at his request.
You turn, finding the cutest basquet. It has your favorite snack, the lip kit you mentioned you were thinking of buying, a small plushy, and some jewelry goodies.
"Ferran, why?"
He sighs, "Just because." He says.
He's the type to come up with a special sign for a goal celebration.
"If I score, it will be yours." He smiles at you.
You were laying next to him. Talking about what the next game would be like, how he feels and all that.
"I'll hold you to that word." You chuckle.
The silence fell in the room. You are enjoying the peace of just the two of you. While he was thinking about the goal.
When sira and him were together, he did the "s" for her. It was their thing. Not like it was a unique thing. Any footballer that has a girlfriend or partner chose that celebration.
But he didn't want to do the same. First it was basic, not that what he did for sira was basic, but the celebration was... is still.
He thought about doing something else, but how would you know that is meant for you?
"We don't have a celebration." He says, interrupting the silence.
You open your eyes, turning your head to the side. You find his worried eyes.
"We don't have what?"
"A goal celebration for us."
You don't find what the big deal is. He can literally stick his tongue out and you'll he proud either way.
"Well, what about my initial."
"No." He shakes his head. "We need something unique, something ours."
You move your hand to where his cheek is. "Then let's think of one." You say.
You spend the rest of the night preparing your special celebration. He wanted it to be perfect. To be yours truly.
He's possessive so he would give you each kit the team has during the season with his name on the back.
"And this is from the second time against Real Betis." He says, giving you the recently washed jersey.
You look at him and then at the already full drawer of his jerseys. The number of jerseys you have is growing with every game he plays.
You tried to lower the number by donating some of the jerseys to a foundation that used them to get founds.
You obviously told Ferran, who signed the jerseys before giving them back to you.
Then he was injured, so there were no jerseys that needed to be placed in the drawer. No accumulation.
When he got back, it began again. He took the jersey home, washed it and then handed it to you.
And it was the same ritual, he would visit you the night before a game, he would pick a random jersey and then you would use it.
"How do you know it's from that game?" You ask curious. "It looks like any other jersey it's there."
He gives you this excuse of why he would know that the jersey you are now holding his front hat specific game.
"I have a Pedri jersey." You say, moving to grab the jersey. "He gave it to me to take to the foundation, and I forgot it here." You explain.
He shakes his head, grabbing the jersey from your hands and throwing it to the small trash can you have in your room.
"Ferran!" You say, getting up and trying to move to save the jersey.
Your actions were interrupted by him pulling you by your hand and making you hit his chest. He then grabs his hersey, moving your arms up and pulling the jersey through your head.
You are confused at everything. "What are you doing?" You ask, moving the hair from your face. "Are you crazy?" You ask, looking at him with a frown.
He grabs your face, kissing your lips. His big hands are locking you in place, one on your waist and the other one in the back of your head.
The air was running low for you. He could go for ages, being a footballer has its benefits.
You push him lightly. He then moves his lips to your cheeks and chin, kissing it sweetly.
"Ferran, stop." You say. "What is going on?" You chuckle.
"You don't need any other player's name on your back." He says, grabbing your chin and making you lock eyes with him. "Only mine." He smiles, pecking your lips.
When he's drunk, specially in the club, at a party. Hes very clingy and is all over you.
"I want one last shot." Ferran says, placing his face on your shoulder. "Maybe vodka."
You can barely understand him. He has the drunk accent that was making you laugh.
"No, amor." You shake your head. "No more shots." You pout.
He pouts too, hugging your waist and moving his head a little more upwards, being able to kiss your neck and jawline.
"The last one." He begs. "Por favor."
You shake your head again, moving your arms to hug him. "You are drunk, baby." You remind him. "Let's take it easy."
He pouts again, burrying his face in your neck. You smile at the very clingy and baby attitude he's putting.
You keep the conversation with your friend, who's smirking at how funny Ferran looks. They all were used to him being like that as soon as he gets to a tipsy state.
It's very well known between friends and family that Ferran needs to always have some type of contact.
Now try to get that to a higher level, and you'll get how he is when he's drunk. He likes to hug you by the waist, he likes to give you neck kisses, he likes to kiss your lips in a sloppy way.
After a good ten minutes of him just hugging you like a baby, he decides to try one more time. "A shot, please." He says, puppy eyes.
You roll your eyes. "Fine, wait for me here." You say, getting out of his hold and getting up.
"Can I go with you?" He asks, whiny voice.
The way his hand is grabbing yours, scared of you walking away from him. It was so sweet yet so funny.
"I'll be only a few feet away, amor." You explain, pointing to the bartender. "Two minutes."
He shakes his head, getting up from his seat and walking with you to the bartender. You ask him to turn and to check if your friend is following.
While he is distracted, you ask for a shot of water. The bartender smiles at you and gives you exactly that.
"Here's your vodka." He says, winking at you with a funny face. "A lemon?"
"Grab your lemon." You say to Ferran.
He does, adding salt. You hand him the shot, and he acted as if it was burning him. "That was good but disgusting."
You thank the bartender, you walk back to your place. He seats first and then he pulled you into his lap.
Your back is sticked to his chest, and his arms are locking you in place. You turn and give him a kiss. It was easy since his head was placed in between your neck.
You can feel the heat that emanates from him. The warmth of his cheek over your skin was comforting.
He trusts you so much. Not only in the relationship but with everything, literally everything.
"So," He says, grabbing your attention as you write something on the computer. "I have something to tell you."
You nod, paying attention to him. You humm so he could continue with his story.
"You remember that I told you about Eric and that girl?" He asks, folding the laundry.
You nod, closing the laptop. You want to know the rest of that uncontinued story. "Yes, what about it?"
"Well, she's back, but turns up she's a" He turned his head to his left and then to the right. "Escort." He whispers
Your eyes open so much. "No!" You say surprised. "How did you find out?"
"He called her to meet again, and when they were done fucking, she tell him that she needs to leave and if he has the money."
You cover your mouth. "That's bananas." You laugh.
"Not only that." He interrupts your laugh.
"Oh my gosh." You sigh. "What else?"
He smirks, finishing with the last t-shirt. "She gave him crabs."
"Tell me this is a joke!" You say, shocked with the information.
"No, Pedri had to threw the towell he was using so nobody would use it once they took it to clean it."
You two keep talking about the subject a little bit more. You even change the subject to what he wants for dinner and that it was his turn to cook.
"Oh, and my mom has a boyfriend." He says, placing the plate of food in front of you.
"Qué?"
He's the type to be always loud and energetic.
"Mi mujer me estaba llamando pero yo no contesté." He sings while he's changing.
You can hear his singing from your office, you shake your head no as you go back to your email.
"Yo tengo un problema de alcohol, yo no sé porqué soy así." He keeps singing as he walks down the hallway. "Amor, I'm leaving." He says.
You lift your eyes from the screen to his. "Adiós, amor." You smile. "Have a nice training, love you." You send him a kiss.
You then go back to the reading as he walks down the stairs. Just when you think the house would be silent and calm you head him yell.
"Be ready at four, I'm taking you out."
You close your eyes, breathing deeply as you think that everybody in the neighborhood heard your plans.
"Amor!" He yells again. "Did you hear me?"
"I think the neighbors heard you as well." You say in an elevated tone.
It was enough for him to hear, but not enough to bother others.
"Vale, adiós." He yells again.
You shake your head. Trying not to laugh at him.
As the day passes and the hour of your date comes, you prepare for it. You change into something more appropriate and wait for him to pick you up.
When he's outside, he lets you know. You find his car and a smily Ferran looking at you.
"You look gorgeous." He says, opening the door for you. "Love you."
"Love you too." You say, giving him a kiss.
The drive consisted of him telling you all about his training session, how he bothered Pedri, and his small gym session.
At the restaurant he ordered for the two of you. Something he sometimes does. It was well appreciated because you don't always know what to order.
"So then we find them together in the janitors closet." You say, telling him a story from your work.
He laughs, but not a normal laugh. He's laughing so hard that even the others turn to see him. Some smiling at how happy he looks and other looking at him with a wtf expression.
"Fer, don't be loud." You say.
"Sorry, it was too fun." He smiles.
Even when he was loud, you knew he was your loud one. So you just accept it.
Like I mentioned before, he's the type to be needy of contact all the time.
It can be your hand wrapping one of his fingers while you go out of somewhere.
It can be him grabbing your belt hoop while you shop around the store.
Your arms sticking together while you two stand up together or his hand on your knee as you are sitting.
Sometimes, when he's sleeping, he will turn around and find you in a peaceful position. He doesn't want to wake you up, so he will place his feet close to yours under the covers. That way, he can go back to sleep without bothering or waking you up.
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