KnightOfNoir
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Summary
Pedri gonzalez (23), bratty, sharp-tongued, and openly bored by his family's empire, belongs to the gonzalez pack of Barcelona. Ferran Torres (25), the ruthless alpha of Madrid's Torres pack, controls half of Spain's underworld. A truce between the two packs is sealed with a fated-mate bond Pedri never asked for. Pedri hates the bond, the pack, and the alpha. Ferran doesn't ask. He claims.
Tone: slow burn, forbidden dark romance, angst with dark humor, graphic heat, and a happy ending that's earned.
Bookmarked by KnightOfNoir
05 Oct 2026
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They weren’t together, God, they had never even kissed.
But Ferran thought about it constantly, he thought about what it would take to put that same look on Pedri’s face without a tackle involved, what it would feel like to be the reason those eyes went wet and that mouth trembled, what it would sound like if the whimper was for him alone.
So he started being mean.
It began with tone, a sharper edge when Pedri misplayed a simple pass in training. "Again, focus." The words themselves were ordinary, the way Ferran said them was not. Pedri would freeze for half a second, eyes flicking up to Ferran’s face, and there it would be— that quick flash of hurt, the soft drop of his mouth, the way his shoulders drew in like he was bracing for something worse.
Ferran would hold his gaze just long enough to watch the wet shine gather, then look away as if nothing had happened.
Series
- Part 7 of angel's bottom pedri fics
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Summary
Ferran Torres had been in love with Pedri for almost a year and still hadn't found a way to say it that didn't sound insane.
They had known each other before Ferran even signed for Barcelona, when Pedri was younger, but even now, he was still softer around the edges, smaller in a way that made Ferran's alpha sit up and take notice every single time they stood close. He had no secondary scent. Officially, he was a beta. Everyone treated him like one. Pedri treated himself like one.
Ferran…did not.
He treated Pedri the way an alpha treated a young omega he hadn't claimed yet, without ever meaning to. He steered him through crowds with a hand at the small of his back. He growled, low and automatic, when other alphas got too familiar in training. He called him pup under his breath when Pedri looked up at him with those big dark eyes, and then pretended he hadn't. Pedri never called him on it. He only went soft and a little pink and let it happen.
Series
- Part 3 of N's football fics! :D
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,521
- Chapters:
- 1/1
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- 1
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Bookmarked by KnightOfNoir
27 Sep 2026
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An older lady saw the interaction and beamed at them, “You two make such a sweet couple!”
“We’re not a couple,” Pedri and Ferran said in unison.OR
Everyone thinks Ferran and Pedri are a couple because they are so unbelievably couple coded.Bookmarked by KnightOfNoir
26 Sep 2026
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Summary
“There must be something tangible that binds the Spanish and English thrones together. So neither can simply walk away from peace when it becomes inconvenient.”
“What are you suggesting?” Jude’s father asks.
“A union… between the two royal houses.”
Jude had always known his crown would come at the cost of his freedom. With England and Spain struggling to maintain a fragile ceasefire after years of war, a royal marriage may be the only thing capable of securing peace between the two kingdoms.
Infante Pedro, the quiet and largely forgotten second son of the Spanish crown, never expected to leave Spain, let alone become the future King of England’s consort. And little did Jude know that Infante Pedro would prove to be the most annoying, infuriating, and insufferably pretty omega he had ever had the displeasure of meeting.
Bookmarked by KnightOfNoir
13 Sep 2026