***

Sophia never misses out on the chance to make a statement during Halloween. In past years, she's evolved from dressing up as Merida from Brave, honouring her Scottish roots, to the femme Oliver Queen from Arrow, she even went all out as the She-Hulk one time. Her skin was tinted green for days.

This year's costume, though... was set to be a top contender.

Except Sira's brother threatened to ruin that.

"What do you mean you're busy on Halloween?"

"I have a date." Pacho responds over the phone.

"Oh, the poor soul."

"I'll have you know she asked me out. I am quite the catch."

"I'll need her number," Sophia tells him, "Be good to inform her of your unreliability with personal commitments."

She hears Pacho sigh. "If it really offends you that much, I can cancel."

"No, don't do that." Sophia groans, begrudgingly. "Go on your date. You owe me one, though."

"That I do. Thanks, Soph. I'm sure the costume will be just as good without me."

"Hm, I don't know about that." She releases a sigh, before bidding goodbye to Pacho and ending the call. Sophia slumps back in her seat, the uncomfortable plastic flip-out seats within the Johan Cruyff arena, where she was midway watching FCB Femeni B beat Villarreal 2-1, her little sister at the heart of it. Sophia turns to Sira, beside her. "Your brother's a dick."

From a few seats below her, Pablo Gavi coughs. "Language."

Picking up the grin of Pedri beside him, Sophia counters, "Didn't your mum ever tell you what happens to pesky little boys that eavesdrop?"

"They grow into handsome elite-tier midfielders, right?"

"No, they grow hideous bunions from their football boots instead."

"My feet are fucking fantastic, you keep your cursed words away from me."

"Language." She reiterates his words back at him.

Sira says, "What did Pacho do now?"

Sophia sighs. "He's bailed on our joint Halloween costume."

"You mean your Halloween costume that you desperately needed a male counterpart for?"

Sophia narrows her eyes at Sira, and sighs again, crossing her arms in her already-hunched position. "That's the one. Apparently he has a date."

"Gross," says Sira. "Surely the costume would be just as good on its own?"

Sophia releases a groan that said otherwise. "But it would look really cool with a partner."

"A male partner, you say?"

"Yes."

Sira nods, pensive. And then:

"Pedri?"

"Hello?" Pedri looks back at having heard his name called, gazing upwards the rows of seats at Sophia and Sira. Sophia was frowning, but she had an idea what Sira was about to do.

"Are you free on Halloween?"

"I was gonna be playing FIFA with Ferran, so yeah, I am free."

"How would you like to come to a Halloween party at our flat?"

"I'd like that."

Sira continues, "And would you like to end Sophia's woes and be her Halloween costume partner?"

"I would love to end Sophia's woes," he said, with a matter-of-fact tone that made Sophia laugh. "If it's fine with Sophia."

She looks at Sira, who knew very well what she was doing. And then looks back at Pedri, something quite hopeful in his soft eyes. She chuckles hopelessly. "Yes, it is fine with Sophia."

"There," says Sira. "See? That wasn't so hard. Stop moping and watch your sister destroy this winger's career."

Sophia half-heartedly rolls her eyes at Sira, focusing her attention on the mid-pitch where the central midfielder of Villarreal held possession. She cut forward only for Isabella, Barca's centreback, to slide in and intercept the ball. Isabella fed a long ball through to the upper left wing, received by Clarissa Adams-Dìaz, unmarked and available. French braids swishing over her shoulder, Clarissa cuts forward, threading the ball between clumsy defending when one dives in with her leg, failing to retrieve the ball but grazing Clarissa's ankle with her studs, the Barca player dropping to the ground, clutching her ankle. The referee did not halt play.

"HEY!" Sophia shot to her feet. "QUE CABRÒN! THAT'S A YELLOW YOU LITTLE INCOMPETENT EXCUSE OF A REF! SHE DIDN'T EVEN GET THE BALL! THEY MUST TEACH YOU TO IGNORE DEATH TOO RIGHT—ESTOY ENFADO, WHO SHAT IN YOUR—"

"Alright, that's enough from you," Sira puts her arms around Sophia, rubbing them soothingly. Of all the pissed off Barcelona supporters, she was the one gaining the most stares. The referee too, though she just raised an eyebrow at the Andalusian and moved on with the game, angering Sophia to the point she stormed to her feet once more—

That was, if Sira hadn't already glued her arms down with her own. "I don't think so, Soph."

Sophia huffs incoherent curses, Pablo and Pedri grinning up at her. Clarissa eventually got back up, lifting a fist at her big sister as she ran off to attend to the latest corner kick. I'm okay.

Sira notices Pedri rising to his feet, and Sophia with her arms folded over her chest.

"Pedri, take her with you?" says Sira. "Help this gremlin cool off?"

A low snicker was heard, and Pablo saying "I think of one way he can help her, but it won't cool her off."

Pedri smacks him upside the head. "Yeah, sure. C'mon, Soph," he holds a hand out for the raging science student, who had a lab previous to this game.

Sophia takes his hand, naturally, step-stepping down the stairs of the Johan Cruyff Arena. Grumbling, "Shitty incompetent ref," and his hand a warm welcome to the freezing October temperaments of Barcelona. It was supposed to snow in the next week.

The Canarian laughs, amused by her. She didn't let go of his hand, head down, walking alongside him, and was actually play-fidgeting with their joined hands. Standing in the stadium coffee shop line, she tapped her fingers time and again over his palm, and he fought the urge to intertwine their hands once and for all. Doing that alongside huffing every little thing wrong with the referee. It put a smile on his face.

"Um. You can have your hand back," says Sophia, sheepishly letting it go. "Thanks for lending it."

"My pleasure."

She realised where Pedri had led them. "Coffee?"

He nods, the two of them in the queue for the coffee and food stand in the stadium. "Too fucking cold out here, man. Even in winter, Tegueste would have to dream of reaching a temperature lower than 20 degrees."

"Fahrenheit?"

"Celsius."

"Dios mio. Scotland doesn't even get that warm during the summer sometimes."

Pedri laughs, realising, "I wouldn't last a day in Scotland."

Sophia grins. "Six hours, more like."

"That a bet?" teases Pedri, raising an eyebrow half-heartedly. Sophia perks her lips, not saying no. He asks, "What's the plan for Halloween, then?"

"I'm glad you asked," says Sophia. "The booze needs picked up, so do the loudspeakers. Sira's doing snack shopping so no need to worry about that. Need to move the couches against the walls, the TV and kitchen table into me and Sira's rooms, turn the paintings around and hiding all glassware, no fuckers are vandalising our furniture."

Pedri's eyes widen momentarily. "Here's me thinking I was just supposed to look pretty as... wait, who am I dressing up as? No nudity, por favor?"

She chokes on a laugh. "No, no nudity. But I can't tell you this now. Not in public eye."

Narrowing an eyebrow, Pedri remarks, "What is so secretive that you can't tell me in front of these three random customers not in attending of your party?"

"Two customers," she grins as one customer left the queue. "And for all you know, that's not true?"

"Really?"

"Nah. To be honest, it wouldn't surprise me. Sira has gone crazy with the party invites. Everyone and their mum has been invited."

"I hope to God no one's mum is at this party."

"Me and you both." Sophia adds, "Trust me. Your outfit is perfectly decent. Dare I say it'll look fantastic too, will probably fit you better than Pacho. Those tights would not accommodate his spider legs."

"Tights?"

Cackling, she says, "I'm pulling your leg. No tights. Well, potentially as tight as them. You always wear skinny jeans though, right? Same thing?"

Pedri rolls his eyes. "Mama's been trying to get me to chuck mine out."

"God bless her for that."

"Hey!"

"Come on. I wholeheartedly believe that skinny jeans must be abolished. They are a disservice to the community."

"Right," says Pedri, unconvinced.

"Besides, those black chinos you wore to crazy golf looked great. There are way better alternatives."

"Mama picked them out for me over FaceTime," Pedri chuckles, shaking his head.

Sophia nods like that made sense. "A mother always knows how to make her son look good."

A smile weighing his lips down, Pedri says, "You do wonders for a guy's ego, Sophia Adams-Dìaz."

Having made it to the front of the queue, Sophia was left to mentally fumble with his words as Pedri spoke his order to the stadium worker. Who asked for his picture right after he inserted his card into the card machine, the payment approved. Latte with sweetener, skinny hot chocolate, cappuccino with chocolate, peppermint tea. (After asking Sophia whether Sira still doesn't take caffeine after 12pm, to which she answered yes.)

"So, does 12pm suit?"

"What?" Sophia frowns, once Pedri has returned from the land of fame. Leaning an elbow against the counter, as the barista loaded his drinks out one-by-one.

"For Sunday," clarifies Pedri. "The party. You know, to collect the booze, the loudspeakers, moving the couches..."

"I was kidding!" laughs Sophia. "5pm is fine, 4 if you are more productive than me."

"Nah, I like 12pm."

"You don't need to, really."

"Maybe I like moving furniture around. You won't deny a bored injured footballer a bit of enjoyment, would you?"

She sighs. "You are a strange man, Pedri Gonzalez."

He tips her off with an invisible cap, as their last drink made its way to the cup holder. Pedri passes Sophia one of the paper drinks cups, who didn't think twice about the gesture.

Until she realised with a frown.

"What is this?" She asks, as if never seeing coffee before.

"Cappuccino with chocolate," he answers her, not stopping to witness the rest of her reaction for he was already halfway down to their seats.

Pedri knew her coffee order.

***

Sira knew how to populate a small flat, and it astounded Sophia. Maybe set her on edge too. She's been to uni parties, she knows that these can become an absolute riot. She just hopes her flat doesn't become one.

Shimmying her way through dancing bodies, clothed in all sorts of costumes, Katniss Everdeen to Morty, Kid Flash to Elvis, there was even a Lilo and Stitch duo costume. Sophia loved a good cinema reference, she was having the time of her life seeing what everyone had dressed up as. Someone had even dressed up as Link, and Sophia had almost married him then and there.

Almost.

One hand pinned up the bun in her hair, the other opened the drawer in the kitchen cabinet. Finding the hair pin she was looking for, sticking it into the top. Students and friends rifling in and out the room, taking their pick of the various bottles of alcohol littering the counter, some full, some not-so. Pizzas, crisps, peanuts for the taking too. Soft drinks too, for those preferring not to drink. Sophia was one of them, knowing she'd have to take her little sister back to the Barcelona training facilities later that night. Besides, Sophia wasn't one for drinking. She had her wild drinking phase back in high school.

"Mi hermosa amiga!" An excited pair of hands jumped around Sophia's waist, then her shoulders, followed by a chin. Sira, dressed in green Tinker Bell attire, hugging Sophia from the back. Definitely had a couple of drinks, if the smell couldn't give it away. "Has anyone told you how hot you look tonight, babe?"

"You would be the first, Saz," replies Sophia, a supporting hand rubbing Sira's back.

"Pedri should've been the first," says Sira with a knowing, teasing look. Sophia rolls her eyes, but while this was the first time she got told she looked hot tonight, it wasn't the first outfit compliment.

It was Padmé's outfit from Attack of the Clones. Her hair was pulled back and low into an intricately twisted bun, hair flailing from the front. White trousers that were more leggings than anything, paired with a fitted white top that had been half-shredded - in reference to its war-torn state during the film. It rendered her midriff completely bare, exposing the belly button piercing she hardly ever has out. On both biceps there were metal cuffs that was actually silver craft paper cut and taped around her arms. A holster was fitted over Sophia's hips. She was wearing her crocs right now, but she did have white boots similar to those of Padme's during the film.

She felt awesome.

Before Sophia could register what was happening, Sira had an eager arm looped in Sophia's dragging her towards the living room where the main throng of folk were, dimly illuminated in blue and purple strobe lighting. There was one person in particular who Sira had pointed out, sporting that same tipsy grin she had in the kitchen.

"Que bonito, no?" says Sira.

An impressed breath whooshes from within Sophia, proud of her work, but when she catches herself, she sighs.

"Of course he looks handsome, Saz," says Sophia. "He's Pedri, and he's dressed up as Anakin Skywalker."

***

And indeed he was.

Ever the gentleman, he arrived to her flat at 12pm, entirely true to his word. Despite the look Sophia gave him, one that said You really did not have to come this early, she soon discovered that she and Sira really did need the extra hand. She'd made him a cup of tea, because it's October and it's freezing, and he told her about the Divine Beast he just defeated, and they set to work.

And when she presented him with his Anakin Skywalker costume, he glanced at it once, raised an eyebrow at Sophia, but nodded nonetheless.

He wore it so well, it left her dumbfounded when the door to her flat's bathroom opened to reveal him, clad in the dark tunic, space on the belt holding the outfit together for a lightsaber, as he fumbled with baggy sleeves of the hooded robe he was trying to put on.

"It will definitely be too warm to keep this thing on," he had said, gesturing to the jacket-like piece of clothing. But he held his hands out, eyes searching for some sort of validation. "How is it?"

"Perfect," responded Sophia, thinking he was somehow built to wear this outfit, because it fit him in all the right places that it had fit Hayden Christensen back in 2002.

With the party unleashing itself on the two young Spaniards' flat, Pedri took to occupying a wall at the side. It had an armchair, which suit him well because he was still injured. He could rest, can of diet lemonade in hand. That is, resting had it not been for his semi-celebrity status; he's had multiple partygoers ask him for pictures, including quite a few ladies. Which Sophia seemed fine with, and that annoyed him. For obvious reasons. He's a polite guy, but there was only one lady he wanted to spend the night with.

"Hermano, as I live and breathe!"

A welcoming hand on his shoulder brought Pedri from his thoughts.

And looking directly at Spider-Man. In all of his spandex glory, from his toes to his head, face covered by the red-webbed mask.

"How are you, man?" Spider-Man asks, as Pedri hesitantly claps the hand he had outstretched. Who is this guy?

"I am well... you?"

"I'm good, I—oh, fuck! You don't know who I am!"

Suddenly realising that he was still masked, Spider-Man scrambles with the back of his head; he undoes the velcro, peeling the sweaty mask off his face to reveal flattened blonde hair, and tan skin darkened by the dim lights of the party. Pedri realised he had a photo with the man behind this costume on his phone, and it dawned on him who Spider-Man was.

Mateo. Who worked for Sophia's dad.

"Mateo?" says Pedri.

Mateo grins. "Bet you've never seen a blonde Spider-Man."

Pedri ignores the rhetorical question, and shakes his head. "Am I having a stroke, Mateo, or are you in Barcelona?"

"You better not be having a stroke, hermano, it's bad enough we won't get you back on the pitch till New Years!" Mateo laughs, "I live here now."

"No way," says Pedri. "Really? Since when?"

"The end of the summer," explains Mateo. "I applied for an internship in sports journalism last year. They got me a place within the Barcelona Mundo Deportivo team for the next 18 months."

Pedri raises an eyebrow. "Did it have to be Mundo Deportivo? They chat so much shit."

"They aren't all that bad."

"No, they're not," says Pedri. "I'm happy for you, hermano. But they still chat shit."

"At least you have an insider to warn you while they're drafting reports on you and Sophia going mini-golfing together."

Pedri puts his face in his hands, "Dios mio."

"Speaking of you and Sophia," Mateo prods on. "What's going on there?"

Pedri looks up with a doubtful frown. "Are you asking me this as a nosey reporter or as a friend?"

"Reporter, obviously. Whatever you say will make the front page."

"Mateo."

"Oh, a friend, obviously!" says Mateo with an incredulous laugh.

Pedri rolls his eyes. But nods. "We're a costume duo tonight. I'm Anakin, she's Padmé. She was supposed to be paired with Sira's brother but he cancelled last minute, so Sira set me up with her."

Mateo squints his eyes knowingly. "And is there a reason you weren't the one she asked first? Or that you two still aren't an official couple?"

"That is not your business, mate."

"Oh, I think it is." Mateo raises an eyebrow, "She's one of the closest friends I've ever had. She was heartbroken after Gio rejected her, I don't want to see her like that again. Whatever it is, considering you are still here, and her Halloween costume partner, it can't be that bad."

Understanding Mateo's point, Pedri nods. "I said some... bad things a couple months ago, right before she went back to uni. Even though we hadn't even became a thing at the time, she left me. Rightfully enough. And I've just... grovelled to get her back, ever since."

Mateo gives a couple of approval nods. "Yeah, Sophia would make one grovel. But does she know that you like her?"

It was an obvious question. So obvious that it made Pedri frown.

"Well, yeah?" He says, and the question in his tone was unexpected. "I think she does? Because... we've made out a few times... and I got her my jersey... and..."

Everything Pedri was coming up with made him feel like a fool. Especially when Mateo asked:

"Have you... said it to her? Or asked her out?"

And it dawned on him immediately.

"I am a dick," says Pedri, dropping his head to his hands.

"I just think sometimes words are important," says Mateo, and Pedri had to give the guy credit; he approached it really gently. "Ladies love a confession. I'm not saying that things like her wearing your jersey or you two making out—" Mateo pauses to fake-vomit, "—didn't mean anything to Sophia, but in this day and age, I don't think you can count on that when there's probably folk making out in Sira's bedroom who will forget one another by tomorrow. You two aren't like that, and the fact both of you are still holding out for each other... that proves it. I just think... you need to grovel a bit more."

The sentence sounded funny coming from Mateo, but it made Pedri smile as he rubbed a hand over his face.

"Yeah," says Pedri, "I can grovel."

"Then you will have her in no time," says Mateo. "And I can write the first top-rated news piece about the country's biggest young football star and his scientist girlfriend."

Pedri laughs and nods, deciding yeah, Mateo can have that one. "If she'll still have me," he adds quietly.

"Pedri," says Mateo. He looks up to see the Andalusian's face entirely serious, sober attitude despite the beer in his hand. "She will still have you. Trust me."

"And how do you know that?"

"The eyes, chico. They never lie."

"Did you just quote Al Pacino to me?"

"Yes," Mateo smiles with pride. "But I didn't lie, and neither do the eyes. I've seen the way she looks at you, hermano. She absolutely will have you.

Pedri nods, then claps a hand on Mateo's shoulder. "Thanks, mate."

Mateo tips his beer, clinking it against the can of diet lemonade in Pedri's hand. "My love for Barcelona and their players is one thing, but so is my love for the Adams-Díaz family. I hope you both find each other like you had before."

***

hey pookies <3 so this was actually supposed to be longer and there was supposed to be more but i realised I've made u guys wait enough for sophedri content. so here u go !!! i hope it delivered- there is MORE coming trust 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨 this is not the end of the halloween party 🤭

i also did bring mateo back bc ppl loved him in previous chapters and i love him too

EURO FINAL ON SUNDAY!!! and copa america AND mens wimbledon truly getting fed out here 😊😊😊😊 tell me who u are rooting for and think about ur answers very carefully bc 1) this is a pedri gonzalez fic and 2) i am scottish

(im kidding but if u say a certain team i'll be upset for a little bit)

anyways here's pookie

hope u enjoyed that guys thank u for being patient with me ily all <3