Stolen Stories - A Short Story || Pablo Gavi x Reader

Chapter 1

"Hi! Welcome in!"

I'm blasted by the air conditioner as I walk in the store, the owner greeting me with a smile.

I smile back and wipe the sweat from my brow, not used to the extreme heat here. My family decided to take a spur of the moment vacation to the coast to spend some quality family time together. Don't get me wrong, I love a nice vacation with my family. But some weekends, I just want to lay in my bed and do absolutely nothing but scroll through Wattpad and eat snacks.

Sighing, I look around the small bookstore we entered. It's actually bigger than what it looked like from the outside. There's bookshelf's lined up against the walls, and stray books piled up next to them. There's even a small loft where more bookshelves lay, it's literally endless.

"Go look around." My mom says, who standing next to me, slightly nudging me with her elbow.

I walk deeper into the store, taking in the scene around me. I've never seen so many books in one place before, even the library back home can't compare to this.

I go down the small step into another section of the store, which is much smaller.

I walk through an isle of bookshelves, running my hand across all the bindings, searching for a title I recognize or that seems interesting.

I stop and pull a black binded book off the shelf, turning it over in my hands to examine the cover. I place it back on the shelf and pull out another one. This time, I turn it over to read the summary on the back before putting it in my left hand and scanning the self for another.

I smile to myself as I come across the title y/f/b, a book I had once read over fifteen times back when I was obsessed with the series.

I feel a tap on my left shoulder, "Me gusta tú plallera (I like you're jersey)."

I raise my eyebrows and briefly look down at my shirt. I'm wearing Pablo Gavi's #9 Spain jersey, which I was able to get off eBay a couple weeks ago for only thirty two dollars with shipping. Which was really surprising considering how high in demand these jersey are since the World Cup ended not too long ago.

"Oh! Gracias, también te gu— (Oh! Thank you, do you also like—)" I start, turning around, but then I immediately stop when I realize who the hell I'm talking to.

My mouth immediately drops open as I recognize the 5'8 figure standing before me. He's in a simple dark blue jacket and adidas joggers, but still manages to look cute as hell. He's standing right there in front of me, the boy I've only seen through my Pinterest boards and television screen.

"Holy shit."

The words come out of my mouth before my brain can process what I'm actually saying, I smack my hand over my mouth before anything else I regret comes out. He lets out a small laugh at my reaction and leans against the bookcase.

Real smooth y/n, real smooth.

"Oh my gosh sorry, that was so rude."

"No it's fine, I get it all the time." He says in English, then flashes me his charming smile and I internally die. Is it even legal to be this cute?

I quickly compose myself and clear my throat, preparing to properly introduce myself, but he beats me to it.

"You probably already know me, but I'm Pablo." He says, extending his hand out for me to shake. He's such a fucking gentleman.

My mind is absolutely dying right now, HE'S JUST LIKE HOW THE FANFICS WRITE HIM.

"Y/n, it's nice to finally meet you." I say, shaking his hand.