#barcelona x reader

[thatgirlsworld36]

Pls can you do a Micheal Olise X reader X Jude bellingham where they wants the same girl

Working on iiiiit. Except it tonight

Here it isssss

[thatgirlsworld36]

girl hi

can you re-upload the jobe smut? tumblr is hiding it becase it is mature

im over 18 i promise

i just really wanna read them 😭❤️

GIRL I’VE TRIED. It keep getting flagged. I’m frustrated as much as you are(maybe even more😭)

[lexiputellas]

you’re losing me

read the full series here: broken vows

recap: this chapter takes place before alexia cheated. this is just to give you guys a better understanding of what was happening between them before everything went wrong.

word count: 1.2k

The bathroom door is still open. Warm light spills into the bedroom as you finish your skincare routine in front of the mirror. You smooth the last of the eye cream beneath your eyes, barely looking at your reflection.

“Baby?” Alexia’s voice drifts in from the bedroom, “I wanted to talk to you.”

“What?” you call back, still focused on the mirror.

“Can you come here?”

You sigh. “Alexia… I’m literally finishing. Give me one second.”

She doesn’t answer.

A minute later, you switch off the bathroom light and climb into bed beside her.

She’s sitting against the headboard, the comforter pulled over her legs. Her phone rests face down on the nightstand. A small detail that immediately catches your attention, usually she’d be scrolling while she waited for you.

Instead, she’s just… sitting there. Waiting.

“What happened?” you ask, studying her face.

Alexia lowers her gaze, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of the blanket. “I’ve been thinking,” she says quietly.

You give a small nod, waiting for her to continue.

“I think I want to leave Barcelona,” she admits, her eyes finally meeting yours.

Your brows knit together as you stare at her, certain you’d misheard, “…What?”

“I think I want to play somewhere else,” Alexia says quietly, her eyes dropping to the comforter.

For a moment, all you can do is stare at her.

Leave Barcelona?

Leave the house you’d spent years turning into a home. Leave her family. Leave Nora’s school.

Your heart sinks.

“What are you talking about?” you ask, unable to keep the confusion from your voice.

Alexia lets out a slow breath, as if she’d rehearsed this conversation a hundred times but still can’t find the right words. “I don’t feel like I have much left to achieve here. We’ve won everything, and…” She hesitates, searching your face before looking away. “I think I’d be happier somewhere else.”

“Happier?” The word slips out before you can stop it, sharper than you intended.

You shake your head, trying to make sense of what she’s saying. “What do you mean, happier? You’re not happy here?”

“No.” Alexia shakes her head almost immediately. “That’s not what I meant.”

You stare at her in disbelief, still struggling to follow. “Then explain it to me.”

“I’m happy,” she says quickly. “I mean… I’m happy here.” She draws in a slow breath, her eyes fixed on a spot across the room. “I’m talking about football. Career-wise.” She pauses, choosing her words carefully. “I just… I feel like my time is coming, and I don’t want to stay until I’m already on the decline.”

You don’t know what to say.

This wasn’t the first time she’d brought it up.

A passing comment after a match. Another one months later. Every time, you’d shut the conversation down before it had the chance to go anywhere, convincing yourself she’d eventually stopped thinking about it.

Looking at her now, you realize she never did.

“I don’t want to move,” you say before you can stop yourself.

Alexia’s expression barely changes. She only nods once, as though she’d seen it coming, “I know.”

A heavy silence settles between you.

“But…” Her voice is careful now, almost hesitant. “What if I do?”

You stare at her, “What?”

She presses her lips together, then speaks again, “I was talking to my agent—”

“You were talking to your agent?” Your head snaps up “And you’re only telling me now?”

“I—”

“So you’ve been having this conversation without me?”

The next question is already out before she can answer, “You’re thinking about moving us to another country, and you’re only telling me now?”

Even as the accusation leaves your mouth, you know it isn’t entirely fair.

But the shock reaches you before reason does.

Alexia lets out a frustrated breath.

“Will you let me finish?” she asks, her voice firmer now. “I asked what my options would be if I ever decided to leave. That’s all. Nothing is happening. Nothing’s been decided.”

She pauses, waiting for you to meet her eyes.

“I would never make a decision like that without talking to you first.

The frustration drains from her face, giving way to hurt.

“Who do you think I am?”

You pause for a moment barely recognizing the woman sitting in front of you. “I don’t know who you are right now.”

Alexia’s expression falls before hardening. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Why are we even having this conversation?” you ask, your voice quieter now, though no less defensive.

“Because I think I want to change clubs,” she replies, trying to keep her voice steady.

“You think…” You let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “Or you know? Because those are two very different things.”

“I think,” she repeats, the frustration beginning to seep into her voice. “Oh my God, that’s why I’m talking to you. I wanted to know what you thought before this became anything.”

She exhales slowly, searching your face for some sign that you’re listening.

“We’d have a support system wherever we went.”

“You definitely would,” you mutter, the sarcasm slipping out before you can stop it.

Alexia closes her eyes for a brief moment, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Can you stop being sarcastic for one second and actually try to understand me?”

You fold your arms across your chest, leaning back against the headboard. “I don’t know, Alexia. Because last time I checked we were supposed to make decisions together.”

For a long moment, she simply looks at you.

Then, as though something inside her gives out, she lets herself fall back against the pillows.

“Oh my God…” she murmurs, turning onto her side. “Forget it.”

You stare at the back of her head, stunned.

“Forget it?” you repeat.

She doesn’t answer.

“No.” You sit up straighter, your heartbeat picking up again. “You don’t get to say ‘forget it.’ You can’t tell me you want to leave Barcelona and then decide the conversation’s over.”

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow,” she says quietly, not turning around.

“No.”

“I’m tired.”

“So am I.”

Alexia lets out a tired sigh before pushing herself back upright. Rubbing a hand over her face, she looks at you with exhausted eyes.

“I think moving would be good for us.”

You don’t say anything.

“I think it’d be good for the girls. I think it’d be good for you.”

You keep your eyes on her, but you still don’t answer.

She swallows.

“And…” Her voice catches ever so slightly. “I think it’d be good for me.”

You press your lips together, “I don’t agree.”

Her eyes search yours, looking for even the smallest sign that you’re willing to meet her halfway.

“Can you at least think about it?”

“Not really.”

Her jaw tightens.

“Why are you acting like this?” she asks, frustration finally slipping through.

A humorless laugh escapes you, “I don’t know.”

Your eyes stay on hers. “Why are you acting like this?”

Silence settles over the room.

Neither of you moves.

Neither of you looks away.

Then, with a quiet sigh, Alexia pulls the comforter off her legs and swings them over the side of the bed. She reaches for the pillow behind her.

“Where are you going?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

She tucks the pillow beneath her arm, avoiding your eyes.

“I’m going to sleep in the guest room.”

“Right. Because you’ve already decided everything on your own. So go sleep alone,” you say, the bitterness clear in your tone.

Alexia’s expression flickers, but she doesn’t say anything. She simply walks out and closes the door behind her.

[lexiputellas]

good luck, babe!

You have spent years making sure you never see Alexia again.

Not because you hate her.

God, you wish you hated her.

Hating her would have made everything so much easier.

You grew up in Spain. You went to university in Spain. You met Alexia there — actually, not quite at university, but through the same circles, the same friends, the same stupid little ecosystem of people who seemed to know everyone.

You were young, young enough to think that being in love was the hardest part and guess what? It wasn’t.

Being in love with a woman was never actually the problem.

Your family wasn’t cruel. Your friends weren’t cruel. Nobody had ever sat you down and told you that being gay was a problem or that you would be disowned or that you couldn’t be yourself.

If anything, people would have accepted you, which should have made things easier.

Instead, you were terrified of a rejection that had never even happened, you were terrified of being looked at differently.

Of having to explain yourself.

Of becoming the girl who had a girlfriend.

Of hearing your family talk about your life and knowing there was something about it they hadn’t expected.

You were terrified of what choosing Alexia would say about you.

And Alexia? She loved you anyway.

She loved you openly in the quiet ways she could. She remembered things you said months earlier. She waited for you when you were late. She knew when you were lying about being fine. She would reach for your hand without thinking.

You loved her so much it frightened you.

So you broke her heart.

You broke your own heart, too, but you were much better at pretending that part didn’t matter.

Then you married Sebastian.

Sebastian was safe.

Sebastian was kind.

Sebastian was a man, which meant nobody ever looked twice at you.

He worked in corporate finance or something close enough to it that you never bothered explaining the exact details at parties. He had a good job, wore expensive suits without looking like he was trying, knew how to talk to people, and could spend twenty minutes discussing someone’s company restructuring without appearing to die inside.

You became a doctor, eventually, an obstetrician.

You moved to London and you built a life. A good one, technically.

You even liked it.

You liked your hospital. You liked your apartment. You liked your routines. You liked knowing which coffee shop opened earliest on your way to work and which supermarket was quietest on Sunday mornings.

You liked that nobody in London knew the version of you that existed before Sebastian.

Nobody knew about Alexia.

Nobody knew that there had once been a girl who could make you forget every reason you had ever invented for why you couldn’t be happy.

You certainly never talked about football.

Ever.

Football became one of those subjects that simply did not exist in your marriage.

You didn’t watch matches.

You didn’t go to stadiums.

You didn’t care about scores.

It was ridiculous.

You knew it was ridiculous.

But football was Alexia.

Alexia was football.

And you couldn’t separate the two.

So you avoided both.

For years, you thought you were doing a pretty good job, you weren’t naive enough to believe you’d never see her again.

That was the thing, you had thought about it, more times than you’d ever admit.

Sometimes, usually late at night, you would imagine it.

What if you went back to Spain?

What if you were at a restaurant and she walked in?

What if you were at an airport?

What if you went to a friend’s birthday?

What if you were somewhere completely random and suddenly—

Alexia.

Your social circles in London were carefully chosen. Your friends were mostly doctors, lawyers, finance people, consultants. The sort of people who went to expensive restaurants and private dinners and rooftop bars and complained about work over overpriced cocktails.

Your life was comfortable.

Predictable.

Boring, sometimes but safe.

Alexia’s world was different, you knew that much. Even without knowing anything about her current life, you knew.

Her world was football. Spain. Barcelona. Stadiums. Teammates. Family.

Your world was hospitals and dinner reservations and Sebastian’s colleagues and people whose idea of an exciting Saturday night was a tasting menu.

There was almost no chance your worlds would overlap.

And that was exactly how you wanted it.

Until tonight.

You are at a party with Sebastian.

One of those parties you don’t particularly want to attend but go to anyway because he has been working with these people for months and apparently it’s important that you show your face.

You’re holding a glass of wine you haven’t really touched, standing near Sebastian while he talks to someone from work.

You are only half listening.

Something about a campaign, a new client.

Marketing.

You don’t care.

Then Sebastian’s attention shifts.

“Oh, actually,” he says. “You should meet Marina.”

You turn and see her, she’s beautiful.

Blonde dark hair. Tall. Perfect makeup. A very nice dress. The kind of woman who looks like she walked out of a campaign rather than simply into a party.

You glance at her, polite but uninterested. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Marina says back.

Sebastian smiles.

“Marina works in marketing. She’s been helping with the new account.”

“Nice to meet you,” you say, giving her a polite smile.

“You too,” Marina says warmly, looking at you for another second before smiling. “Sebastian has told me so much about you.”

“Has he?” you ask, glancing at your husband with an amused look.

“Unfortunately,” Sebastian says, making Marina laugh.

You shake your head, smiling despite yourself. “I’m starting to think I should be worried.”

“You probably should be,” Marina says, grinning.

“So, how long have you two been married?” she asks, glancing between you and Sebastian.

You look at your husband before answering, “Long enough.”

“That’s a very diplomatic answer,” Sebastian laughs, shaking his head.

The conversation moves on, Marina telling you about how she ended up working with Sebastian and the new project they’ve been working on. You listen, occasionally adding something, letting yourself settle into the easy rhythm of the conversation.

You don’t think twice when she eventually mentions her wife.

Why would you?

You don’t know her wife.

You don’t know her friends.

You don’t know anyone here outside Sebastian’s work circle.

Marina turns slightly, scanning the room.

“Oh, there she is.”

You follow her gaze automatically.

And then—

You stop breathing.

It happens so quickly you don’t even have time to understand it.

One second you’re standing there with your hand around your glass.

The next, your entire body has gone completely still.

Because across the room is a woman you haven’t seen in years.

Hazel hair.

Familiar posture.

Familiar shoulders.

Familiar face.

Your brain rejects it before your heart can recognize it.

No. No, no, no. Not here. Not tonight. Not at a party you specifically attended because it was supposed to be safe. You stare at her, your brain refusing to make sense of what your eyes are seeing.

The room becomes strangely quiet despite the fact that everyone is still talking.

Someone laughs beside you, music plays somewhere in the background, glasses clink, and Sebastian is saying something to you, but you hear none of it. Everything around you has become distant and muffled, like you’re underwater, because all you can see is her.

Because she’s turning toward you.

And you know her.

Of course you know her.

You could pick her out of a crowd of ten thousand people.

Your Alexia.

Except she isn’t yours.

She hasn’t been yours for years.

You feel your stomach drop so violently that you instinctively put a hand against it.

You can’t move, can’t blink, can’t breathe.

Then Alexia’s eyes find yours. And you watch the exact moment she recognizes you.

Her entire face changes. Not dramatically, which is almost worse. It’s just a tiny shift, her smile disappearing, her eyes widening, her body going completely still. And you know. She knows.

Oh my God.

You have spent years imagining what this moment would feel like, playing it out in your head in a hundred different ways.

You were wrong.

You thought you would be angry, or composed, maybe even indifferent. You thought enough years would have passed for Alexia to become just another person, someone you could look at without feeling like the floor had disappeared beneath you.

You had imagined that enough years would eventually make her just a person.

They didn’t.

There is not a single part of you that isn’t shocked.

Not your mind.

Not your body.

Not your stupid fucking heart.

Alexia is standing across the room. In London. At your husband’s work party.

Your eyes move to Marina, then back to Alexia.

Something inside you collapses when it finally sinks in that Alexia is married. Married to the beautiful woman you were just talking to.

You don’t know if she’s angry. You don’t know if she’s hurt. You don’t know what she sees when she looks at you after all these years, and somehow, not knowing is worse. You don’t know anything.

And suddenly you’re back there.

Spain.

University.

Alexia’s hand in yours.

Her voice.

The stupid little plans you made together.

The future you were supposed to have.

The future you threw away because you were scared.

You remember breaking up with her.

You remember the way she looked at you.

You remember telling yourself that one day you’d be grateful you had made the sensible decision.

You remember crying so hard afterward that you couldn’t breathe.

And then you remember going home and pretending everything was fine.

You remember choosing Sebastian.

Choosing a life where nobody could ever look at you and know what you had done.

You want to disappear. You want to run. You want to go back five minutes and never have walked into this room.

Sebastian finally notices and turns toward you. “Hey. You okay?” You can’t answer, not when Marina is standing there smiling, completely unaware of what’s happening inside your head.

“Alexia!” Marina calls, and Alexia doesn’t move immediately. Her eyes are still on you. Then Marina reaches for her, and that tiny, effortless gesture destroys you.

Alexia glances at her wife before her eyes find yours again, and it hits you all at once: she has a life. A real one. One you don’t belong to.

And you?

You have Sebastian.

You have a medical career and a beautiful flat and a life that looks perfectly normal from the outside.

You have everything you were so afraid you would lose.

So why does seeing Alexia feel like someone has reached inside your chest and ripped something open?

You swallow.

Hard.

Your hand moves automatically to your wedding ring.

You twist it.

Once.

Twice.

Again.

Sebastian looks down. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Your voice sounds wrong.

You force yourself to look away from Alexia, but you can’t. Your eyes find her again almost immediately, and she’s still looking at you.

You excuse yourself before Sebastian can ask another question, “I just… I need some air.”

The rest of the night passes in fragments. Someone asks if you’re feeling sick. Someone else tells Sebastian they hope to see the two of you again.

You don’t look at Alexia again.

You can’t.

Because you’re terrified that if you do, you’ll walk straight across the room and ruin your marriage.

—

The drive home is silent.

Sebastian talks for most of the drive. Something about the party. About work. About Marina and how she’d finally convinced Alexia to come to one of these events because she hated corporate functions.

You sit beside him in silence, your fingers tightening on the side of your dress until your knuckles ache.

You keep your eyes fixed on the lights outside the window, nodding every now and then, hoping he mistakes your silence for exhaustion instead of the fact that your entire world has just been turned upside down.

“Apparently she’s some famous footballer,” Sebastian says with a small laugh. “I had no idea. Everyone kept asking her for pictures.”

You stare at the road.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Alexia, I think? Marina says she’s huge in Spain.”

Alexia.

As if you don’t know every letter of her name.

As if you hadn’t once whispered it into the dark so many times it became part of your heartbeat.

“I don’t really follow football.” You hum absentmindedly.

“I know,” Sebastian smiles.

The conversation dies there.

You are grateful for it.

Because if he says her name one more time, you’re afraid you’ll burst into tears.

—

The flat is quiet when you get home. Sebastian lets out a tired yawn as he slips off his jacket, already loosening his tie with one hand. “I’m exhausted,” he says with a small smile.

You hum in response, setting your purse on the kitchen counter. “Mhm.”

“I’m going to bed.” He steps closer, leaning down to press an absent kiss against your forehead, the same effortless gesture he’s made thousands of times before. “I love you.”

The words land like a punch to the chest. For a split second, you can only look at him, carefully keeping your face composed before offering a small nod, “I love you too.”

The words leave your mouth automatically, but they taste like a lie.

Sebastian smiles, completely unaware, murmurs a quiet “Goodnight,” and disappears down the hallway.

You remain where you are, staring at nothing in particular, your hands resting against the edge of the counter.

You don’t move.

Minutes pass — maybe ten, maybe twenty.

Eventually, you make it to bed, only to find Sebastian already asleep.

You slip beneath the covers as quietly as you can, careful not to wake him. The room is dark, illuminated only by the faint glow of the streetlights filtering through the curtains.

You turn onto your side.

He’s facing away from you, breathing slow and steady. Your eyes linger on him.

On your husband.

The man who has loved you without hesitation for years. The man who has built a life with you, who trusts you completely, who has never once made you question whether you were enough.

Something twists painfully in your chest.

You squeeze your eyes shut, willing yourself to sleep.

Instead, all you see is Alexia.

A tear slips onto your pillow.

Then another.

You bury your face into the pillow, desperate to muffle any sound. Tomorrow morning, you’ll wake up beside the man you married, and somehow, you already know the first person you’ll think about won’t be him.

[mesquebarca]

ferran x pedri x fem!reader

Chapter 2

here’s chapter 1

——————

plot: ferran and pedri fight over you, but then they realize there’s a better idea. reader goes to stadium, gets noticed there but she meets them again in the hotel gym.

warnings: +18 mdni, smut, jealousy, hair pulling, making out, pinv, light breath control and a lot more.

please note that english isn’t my first language so i am really sorry if there are mistakes or if my writing isn’t that good :> enjoy!!

——————————————

“Just stay away from her okay?” Ferran said, he was trying his best to act like Pedri did not just admit to want him.

“wow you’re really an idiot, she’s never giving you a chance” Pedri provoked him at this point. It resulted to Ferran yanking him by his jacket and pushing him back a little bit.

“i said stay away from her Pedri, do not test me”

And just like that, they separated that night, they were avoiding each other.

On the other hand, you chatted with some people who had few common interests with you such as the topics you take in university, books, sports and all. Until Ferran appeared again.

This time, he did not speak to you or even address you. He just existed there, close, without saying anything. He would just steal glances from time to time, checking if you were good, or if you were looking at him too.

And you were. Your gaze would flicker between him and Pedri who was a little far from you, and was already impossibly close to another woman. And by the time Ferran notices them too, his jaw clenched like he was trying to break his teeth. Wait, what?

The realization just hit you like a rock to the head. Ferran was pissed off, because Pedri was flirting with someone else. You felt dizzy at the thought, what game were they playing with you then? Why were both of them having a tension over Pedri approaching you? Were they using you to prove something?

You seemed to get lost in your thoughts.

“excuse me, my lady, do you want to go a more private place?”. A voice came, it was the same guy you were having a chat with for the past ten minutes, you knew he was flirting with you but you didn’t really care, or mind it. He seemed decent and until now he was being respectful. Before you could answer, someone else did.

“go fuck around somewhere else kid”. It was Ferran, what the hell? It wasn’t enough that he ruined the little chemistry you had with Pedri, now this?

“i’m sorry, he’s a little drunk. don’t mind him” you tried explaining to the man, clinging onto his arm to leave.

“i’m not drunk, i’m fully sober and i’m telling to get your hands off of her or i swear i’ll break that bottle on you”. Ferran threatened impatiently.

At this point, there was no reason to try with the guy, he seemed turned off by the whole interaction and left immediately.

“are you crazy?” you addressed Ferran.

“yes perhaps i am”

“you definitely are, what’s your business with who i sleep with? Did i ask you about your business with Pedri?”

That seemed to trigger him and he shifted in his place, immediately going to defensive mode.

“i have no business with Pedri, we are close friends, that’s all”.

“Really? you think i’m stupid?” you looked into his eyes, refusing to look anywhere else, meanwhile Ferran was definitely avoiding your gaze.

Pedri appeared again.

“what guys i leave you for few minutes and you start flirting behind my back?” He said sarcastically, but his words held truth to them, though.

Ferran was avoiding Pedri’s gaze too.

You were sitting on a sofa, Ferran next to you and Pedri behind both of you, standing.

His hand moved slowly until it was on your hair, he was stroking your head slowly, gently. It felt so comfortable.

Ferran looked up at him, then at you.

You didn’t realize when did you start to feel like you want this, or when did the thought even cross your mind, but you moved your leg a little, putting it over Ferran’s.

The both looked so good in this lighting, both with soft hair and flushed cheeks, looking back and forth between each other and you.

God.

And they understood the assignment right away, Ferran was slowly massaging your leg, while Pedri’s touch felt more, serious? not the gentle one he had seconds ago.

And what got you clenching your legs a little was the way they were looking at each other while touching you.

It felt like a challenge, like they were proving something to each other, and to you.

Ferran’s breath was growing visibly heavy as Pedri’s hand dropped down to your cheeks, then jaw and neck, exploring you.

Then he stopped.

“i’ll be in my car if you wanna join me”.

And then he left.

You looked at Ferran, he was looking at Pedri’s figure until he disappeared, then he looked back at you.

He refused to look anywhere else, hand still going up and down on your leg.

“do you wanna go?” he asked.

You nodded, embarrassingly fast. And that’s all it took for him to get up and take you by the wrist, following Pedri.

You approached his car, Ferran opened the door for you, pushing to the passenger seat, then getting in the back seat.

Pedri immediately started the car and drove to his house. The ride was silent, just low music playing from the car. You were doing your best not to look at Pedri, or to the back at Ferran.

Turns out his house wasn’t that far, Pedri parked after few minutes of driving and looked at you.

From the way he was looking at you, you could tell he was hungry. He wanted this really bad, and so did you. Before you could even think of anything, he dragged you by the wrist to his apartment. The second the door closed, Ferran was on you, kissing you like he has been deprived for weeks, while Pedri gently took off your jacket and started kissing your neck from behind, both of their hands were everywhere on your body, touching up and down.

Ferran’s kiss was not gentle at all, it was aggressive, like he was trying to claim something, to prove something to you. And you kissed him back with your all. Hands around his neck, pulling impossibly close before getting turned around by Pedri. The way they were taking turns on kissing you, the way their touches and kisses were so different yet both ignited something in you.

“are you happy now, pretty?”. Ferran said, and oh his sound at that exact moment.

“you got us both to yourself, two pretty men ready to be on their knees for you, is that what you wanted?”.

You couldn’t even answer, because everytime you try to open your mouth, Pedri would shut you with a kiss, and Ferran’s hand holding your hip was making you dizzy.

They led you to Pedri’s room.

“shit, i never thought i would be fucking a woman i want so bad on my best friend’s bed, whom i want so bad too”. Ferran was being sarcastic and serious at the same time.

“just shut up Ferran, let us take care of her, hm pretty?”

“we’re gonna fill you up so good, gonna make you live that little fantasy you’ve been dreaming about, right Ferran?”

“yes, do you want this, pretty? do you want us?”. Ferran asked, and it went straight to your core.

You nodded multiple times, earning little laughs from both of them.

Piece by piece, they removed your clothes, all while kissing and biting you. Pedri stripped himself too but Ferran was still in his clothes.

“wait we didn’t even taste her, Pedri”. Ferran said, and in one motion, he gently pulled you and layed on down on your stomach.

They both got on their knees, between your legs. Both sucked your pussy at the same time, giving you insane sensation and a desperation for more. They were licking you, and basically making out on your pussy and you swear you could feel yourself ascending to heaven. But the sight, though?

The two hot men you’ve been thinking about all night, making out on your pussy?

You let out too many moans for someone only getting started, they were moaning too.

“fuck please more. You whinted. And that earned your a bite on your inner thigh.

“shh baby we said we were gonna take care of you”. Ferran said, and went back to devouring you, while Pedri slipped a finger inside you, giving you seconds to get used to the feeling before adding a second, curling them and moving them in and out of you.

“that feels good?”. They were both murmuring this while eating you out, messy words, messy thoughts.

“i’m so close-“ you moaned, gripping Ferran’s hair.

They didn’t stop, and you felt something growing inside of you stomach, seconds later releasing on their tongues, and they both were fighting who’s gonna get the last lick of your release. Ended up with both licking at the same time, and kissing each other to taste you more.

“on all fours baby”. Pedri said with his deep voice.

“i need to watch you two first baby, i need to feel jealous”. You both looked at Ferran after he said that, then slowly, you were on your knees and arms.

All you could do was nod and moan, looking up to see Ferran sitting in front of you, looking back and forth between you two.

Gasp.

The air got knocked out of your lungs the second Pedri entered his cock in you. You could feel him slowly adjusting himself.

“don’t worry baby, it going to fit. Just relax yourself for me”. His voice sounded heavenly.

He slowly started moving in and out of you, gripping your hips to feel you deeper.

Meanwhile, Ferran caressed your hair, helping you to get a better view, getting rid of the mess on your head because of your bangs.

“look at you pretty, so pathetic, too much dick?” he said.

“but you’re taking it like a champ come on”. You didn’t know if he was making fun of you or if he was praising you, but it either ways you wanted more.

Pedri didn’t stop at all, and you were getting pleasured like you’ve never had before, that caused you to let your head down, earning a smack from Pedri.

“don’t look down, look at him”

“maybe you should pull her hair, hm? it’ll make her more focused. poor pretty girl, getting fucked so good she can’t even keep her pretty face up.” and as Ferran said that, Pedri pulled your hair, making your look up, still pounding you so good.

You looked so pretty fucked out like that, looking at Ferran with those needy eyes like what Pedri was doing wasn’t enough.

with that, Ferran took and thumb and caressed your jaw, then your lips.

“open, pretty”. He ordered and you did, you opened your mouth and sucked his finger like it was his cock.

“shit Pedri, she’s so good, pet her come”.

Pedri’s thrust became more rough and focused as he made it his life mission to reach the deepest he could. You had your second orgasm. Pedri was groaning, he was close too.

“good fucking girl”. He said before coming too.

The speed Ferran flipped you over with was insane, he took off his clothes in a speed of light.

“i can’t i’m too sensitive”. you said.

“you can pretty, you can, because i said so. Isn’t that right Pedri?” He looked up at Pedri.

“yes baby, let him hm?”

“can i, pretty?”. He asked again, oh god.

“yes, yes ferran please”. You pleaded after seconds, he drew circles on your clit. and you gave him the most needy expression ever.

“fuck”, he cursed as he slowly slid into you, kissing all over you, lips, neck, breats, stomach and then he started thrusting. Pedri in the meanwhile, leaned forward to bite your neck, not just a small hickey. He bit, and you moaned the loudest moan this night. You couldn’t handle the feeling of Ferran inside you AND Pedri biting you. He would wait four or five seconds with each bite before releasing, then licking the sport, as if apologizing.

Ferran on the other hand, was in another world. He was sweating and going in and out of you with the nastiest pace ever.

Pedri wrapped his hand around your neck. Not enough to choke you, but enough to make your breath hitch and beg for more.

“fuck, fuck fuck pretty, do i make you feel good? do you still want him?. The jealous tone in his voice was unmistakable, but oddly hot, and Pedri chuckled between the bites.

“yes Ferran, please fuck-“

“you’re so pretty, i’ve never seen such a pretty fucked out face like this in my life, don’t you agree Pedri?”

“mhm” Pedri didn’t answer him and just hummed in your neck.

You felt tears in your eyes, then you blinked three times, letting them fall down.

“please Ferran, i’m so close-“ You cried out.

He took his hands and place it on your lower tummy, slightly pressing and feeling himself in there.

“God, pretty i can’t feel myself in here, you feel me too?”

You nodded.

“please Fe-“ you couldn’t answer the question, because Ferran started speeding up, while Pedri was sucking on one breast and pinching your other nipple.

“come on come on my cook pretty girl”

and you did. He did too, both letting out loud moans while pedri rushed to get his fingers on your juices. He straight up licked his fingers after that and gave you a slight kiss.

Then he moved to kiss Ferran. Well they weren’t just kissing, the were having the nastiest make out ever.

“let’s clean her up, yeah?” Ferran proposed after they broke off the kiss.

Oh god, how did you even end up with such two sexy men.

—————————————————

This is my first time writing smut, im tweaking out a little over it. I hope whoever reads this enjoys it. and im always open to advices and requests!!

[lexiputellas]

exile from the broken vows series (read all the chapters here) - chapter twenty

What had happened with Ellison still sat heavily in your chest. Days had passed, but the anger you were feeling towards Alexia hadn’t, neither had the hurt. You let yourself sink into it, refusing to talk about what had happened.

Whenever Alexia came to pick up the girls, you barely acknowledged her. You kept your eyes anywhere but on her. She tried to bridge the distance, but you gave her as little as possible.

“Yeah.”

“No.”

“I don’t know.”

“Ask Dolores.”

The messages stayed exactly where they’d been left, between you, untouched.

Today, though, there would be nowhere to hide.

It was Eli’s birthday.

Alba said she was trying to keep it small, just family. Plenty of food, cake, and the kids keeping everyone entertained without even trying.

Before hanging up the phone a few days earlier, she’d added almost as an afterthought

“Déjalas dormir aquí esta noche. Mamá le hará muchísima ilusión.”

You’d smiled. “Claro.”

Now, with the evening finally here, you finished getting yourself ready as the house settled into its usual late-afternoon quiet.

You didn’t spend long in front of the mirror. A little concealer beneath your eyes, some mascara, a touch of blush, and you were done.

Your hair had dried almost straight after your shower, but you curled a few loose sections into soft waves before pulling on a pair of light-wash jeans, a fitted white T-shirt, and an oversized beige linen shirt left unbuttoned. Comfortable. Simple.

You padded across the hallway toward Iris’s room and the first thing you noticed was the tiny pink backpack sitting neatly beside the door.

Inside, Iris was sprawled across the middle of her bed, quietly playing with the doll resting against her knees. She didn’t even look up when you walked in.

“Five more minutes,” she said confidently.

You laughed.

“I haven’t even asked you anything yet.”

“I know.”

Only then did she glance over, smiling as though she’d won some invisible argument.

You walked to her wardrobe.

“What are we wearing today?”

Iris slid off the bed, abandoning the doll without a second thought. “My star jeans.”

“The star jeans?”

“The pretty ones.”

You opened the drawer, “You mean these?”

She gasped dramatically, “Sí!”

The tiny pair of light blue jeans was embroidered with little pastel hearts and silver stars scattered across the legs, she’d insisted on buying them because they “looked magical.”

“And the pink sweater.”

“The one with the little flowers?”

“Nooo…” Iris giggled. “The fluffy one.”

“Right.”

You helped her step into the jeans, holding her hands while she balanced on one foot, then the other.

“There.”

She lifted both arms automatically, you pulled the soft pink sweater over her head before gently freeing her curls from the neckline.

She turned in a slow circle, “Pretty?”

“The prettiest.” you said.

Iris reached up, patting both sides of her head.

“Pig.”

You knew she was asking for pigtails, “Of course.”

She climbed onto the little stool in front of her mirror without being asked, feet swinging happily while you gathered her curls into your hands.

“You have to sit still.”

“I am.”

“You’ve moved three times.”

“I only moved a little.”

“Maybe three times,” you admitted, making her laugh.

You divided her curls carefully, smoothing each section with your fingers before securing the first pink elastic, Then the second.

She watched you through the mirror the whole time.

“When I get big…”

“Hm?”

“…I want hair like yours.”

You smiled without thinking. “I think your hair is much prettier than mine.”

She frowned at your reflection. “No mom”

“No?” She shook her head very seriously at you

“I want yours.”

You leaned forward and kissed the top of her head.

“I think yours is perfect.”

She considered that. “…Okay.”

Iris turned her head from side to side, admiring herself from every angle.

“I look like a princess.”

“You do.”

She slipped her small hand into yours as she climbed off the stool.

“Vamos, vamos,” Iris said, already pulling you toward the door.

Before you could stop her, she took off down the hallway, darting past Nora’s room.

“Vamos, Nora!” she called, poking her head inside. “It’s Abuela’s cumpleaños! Vamos!”

A second later, she disappeared downstairs, the sound of her little footsteps echoing through the house.

You followed a few seconds later, heading toward Nora’s room.

She was sitting on her bed, phone in hand, barely looking up when you walked in.

“Go get changed,” you said.

“I don’t want to.”

You stared at her for a moment.

You really didn’t have the patience for this today, not for the attitude or for the arguing.

So you kept your voice calm.

“You have ten minutes to get dressed, pack your things, and be downstairs. If not, you’re grounded.”

Nora didn’t answer, she just looked back down at her phone as you walked out.

Ten minutes later, you waited by the front door as Iris excitedly told you all about the birthday gift you’d picked for Eli. When Nora finally came downstairs, her expression tense, you said nothing. You grabbed the bags, ushered both girls to the car, and drove over in silence.

By the time you arrived, Alba was already opening the door with her usual warm smile. And there, just behind her, stood Alexia.

She looked beautiful. The kind of beautiful that used to catch you off guard, no matter how many times you’d seen her.

Now, you found yourself looking for a second too long before forcing your eyes elsewhere.

The feeling wasn’t warmth anymore, it was a quiet sadness, born from realizing the person who had once felt most like home suddenly felt so far away, even standing only a few feet from you.

You stepped inside and greeted everyone the way you always did. Alba got the first hug, then Eli, along with a quiet happy birthday before she laughed and led the girls away to show them the decorations.

You exchanged a few more hugs, a few more hellos.

And when you looked up, there was only one person left.

Alexia.

For a moment, neither of you moved. Then you stepped forward and hugged her.

The familiar scent of her shampoo and soap reached you instantly. You recognized it without even thinking.

You pulled away first, giving her a small smile before turning back to everyone else.

After a while, everyone gathered around the table as the birthday cake was brought out. The room filled with an off-key chorus of Feliz Cumpleaños, making Eli laugh before she leaned forward to blow out the candles. Everyone clapped as the cake was sliced and passed around, conversations slowly picking back up around the table.

You did your best to stay present, smiling when you were supposed to and answering when someone pulled you into a conversation, but your mind kept drifting elsewhere.

Eventually, you slipped into the kitchen for a glass of water. You had barely filled your cup when Alba appeared in the doorway, her expression careful but determined.

“Alexia told me,” she said quietly.

“Told you what?”

“That you’re seeing someone.”

You set the glass down harder than necessary. “I’m not seeing anyone.”

“She said you are.”

“Well, she’s lying.”

Alba narrowed her eyes. Of course she did, Alexia was her sister, after all. “Why would she lie?”

“I don’t know, Alba. Maybe you should ask her.” Your voice sharpened. “And while you’re at it, maybe ask why she lied to my face for months.”

“Don’t say it like that,” Alba replied, visibly shocked.

“Why? It’s the truth.” You let out a bitter laugh.

You loved Alba, you really did, but she was pushing every button you had left.

“I… I don’t know what to say to that,” she admitted.

“Alba…” you rubbed a hand over your forehead. “Stay the fuck out of this, please.”

Alba frowned. “I’m not trying to take sides.”

“It feels like you are.”

“I’m just trying to help.”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

She crossed her arms. “You don’t have to ask. I care about both of you.”

You let out a quiet laugh, one without any humor. “I know you do.”

“Then why are you getting angry at me?”

“Because you’re asking me to understand her.”

“I’m asking you not to give up.”

“I haven’t.” You looked at her, your jaw tight. “I’ve listened. I’ve heard everything she had to say. That doesn’t mean I’m okay.”

Alba’s expression softened. “I know you’re not.”

“Do you?” you asked quietly.

She was silent.

“I think I’m going to go,” you said, already turning toward the door.

“What?” Her voice cracked with disbelief. “Why?”

You narrowed your eyes at the question. “The girls things are in the bag I brought. Everything’s there. If you need anything, call me.”

You left the kitchen without waiting for a reply and went straight to Eli. You pulled her into a tight hug, guilt twisting in your stomach.

“Sorry, Eli, I have to go. I’ll call you tomorrow about the girls, okay?”

She looked disappointed, her small shoulders dropping. “Oh… okay. But this early?”

“Yeah, I’m not feeling well.” The lie tasted sour on your tongue.

Alexia stood across the room, watching the entire exchange in silence. Her expression was unreadable. The girls were happily playing with her cousins, completely unaware.

You said your quick goodbyes to the rest of the family, then stepped out of the house. The cool night air hit your face, and for the first time all evening, you felt like you could finally breathe.

Or at least… you thought you could.

You’d barely reached your car when you heard the front door open behind you.

Footsteps.

You didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.

“So…” Alexia said as she stopped beside you. “Are we going to talk about what you did the other night?”

You opened the car door, refusing to look at her. “What I did?”

“Don’t.” Her voice sharpened. “You know exactly what you did. I texted you. You read them. Then you ignored me completely. We have kids, for fuck’s sake.”

“Don’t bring the girls into this,” you said, finally looking at her. “They’re fine. I’m doing everything I need to do for them. I just don’t want to talk to you.”

“Claudia saw you with Ellison.”

You froze for half a second, then rolled your eyes. “Whatever. I’m not discussing that with you.”

Alexia’s jaw tightened. “She seems like your type.”

You turned to her slowly, anger flashing hot in your chest. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“You know,” she said, the corner of her mouth twisting. “Athletic. Brown hair. Tattoos.”

Her voice was dripping with bitterness.

“Guess you have a type after all.”

For a second, you just stared at her.

Not because the comment hurt. Not only because it hurt. But because you couldn’t believe she had actually gone there.

“Stop.”

Alexia frowned. “What?”

“Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Turning this into something it’s not.”

A humorless laugh left her. “Isn’t it?”

You looked at her, exhausted. “What is wrong with you?”

Her expression changed immediately.

“Excuse me?”

“You hear yourself, right?” Your voice stayed low, but there was no softness left in it. “You keep saying things, creating things in your head, and then getting angry at me for them.”

“Because maybe I’m not imagining everything.”

“You are.”

“Am I?”

“Yes, Alexia.”

She looked away, jaw clenched.

You took a breath, trying to hold yourself together.

“I’m going to say this one time.”

Her eyes came back to yours.

“I’m tired.”

“You’re tired?” she repeated, almost offended.

“Yes.”

A bitter smile crossed her face. “Right”

“Stop,” you said sharply, your voice cracking with frustration. “Please, just stop.”

Alexia stared at you for a moment, her expression cracking.

“Then talk to me!” she snapped. “You shut me out completely and then act like I’m the only one who isn’t trying.”

You looked at her, disbelief flashing across your face.

“You disappear for days,” Alexia continued. “You don’t answer my calls. You don’t tell me anything. How am I supposed to fix this if you won’t even let me in?”

“Because I don’t know how to talk to you right now,” you said.

Alexia let out a laugh. “Of course you don’t.”

Your eyes narrowed. “What exactly are you implying?”

“It means you’ve already decided I’m the villain,” Alexia said. “No matter what I say, no matter what I do, you’ve already made up your mind.”

“You cheated on me, Alexia.”

“I know.”

“You don’t!” Your voice rose. “It feels like you only understand that you hurt me when it affects you.”

Alexia’s face tightened. “Because I am hurting too.”

“And I’m expected to comfort you through that?”

“That’s not—.”

“It is,” you said. “Everything always comes back to you. How much you miss me. How much you’re suffering. How scared you are.”

“Because I love you!” Alexia shouted.

“And I loved you too!” you yelled back.

The silence afterward was immediate.

You swallowed, trying to hold yourself together.

“I loved you enough to trust you with everything,” you said. “And you destroyed that.”

“I know I did,” Alexia whispered.

“Then stop acting like I’m supposed to be okay just because you’re sorry now.”

“No,” Alexia said, shaking her head. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?”

Alexia looked at you, tears gathering in her eyes.

“I’m saying I don’t know how to fix something when you won’t even let me near you.”

You looked away.

“Maybe because I’m exhausted of being the only one who fought for us.”

Alexia went quiet.

Then, after a long moment, she asked softly:

“Do you want the divorce?”

You didn’t answer.

You just looked away, your eyes stinging as the question settled between you.

“I don’t know,” you whispered, the honesty surprising even you.

Your voice barely came out.

“I love you,” You laughed weakly, shaking your head. “I love you so much… but I hate you too. I hate you so fucking much right now.”

The first tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it.

You closed your eyes.

Not now.

Please, not now.

“I don’t know what I want anymore,” you whispered. “I don’t want the girls growing up hating one of us because of this.”

Alexia closed the distance between you carefully, as though afraid you’d pull away.

Her hands cupped your face.

“Please,” she whispered.

She rested her forehead against yours.

“Let’s really talk this time. We can go to therapy. Couples therapy. We’ll do whatever you need.” Her thumbs brushed away your tears. “Please.”

The street was quiet.

Only the glow of the streetlights stretched across the empty road.

You held onto her forearms without thinking.

“I don’t know if I can,” you breathed, voice barely audible.

“You don’t know unless you try.”

“I know you slept with other people besides Eva,” you said quietly, the words scraping out of your throat like they hurt to speak.

Alexia looked away.

“I just…”

You stared at her. At this point, you couldn’t tell if she was trying to find the right words or another lie.

“The girl at the restaurant,” you said. “The night we went to buy Nora’s birthday present.”

Her brows pulled together in confusion.

“What girl?”

“The waitress. She told me the two of you had slept together.”

Alexia’s face shifted as the memory hit her. She closed her eyes for a second, exhaling sharply.

“…I didn’t even realize it was her.”

You didn’t respond. The silence pressed down on both of you, heavy and suffocating.

“I swear to you, the only person I slept with was a girl I met in a bar.” She swallowed. “It was after you threw me out of the house. I couldn’t even think straight.”

Her voice was so quiet it almost didn’t sound like hers.

You searched her face, looking for something, anything, that would tell you she was lying.

You couldn’t find it.

You looked at her for a long moment before speaking.

“…Can you take me home?” you whispered.

For a second, she just stared at you.

Then something shifted in her expression. The hope in her eyes was impossible to miss.

“Yeah,” Alexia answered quickly. “Let’s take your car. Just let me say goodbye to the girls real quick.”

You nodded.

“Okay.”

You tipped your head back, looking up at the night sky.

This is insane.

You didn’t know what you wanted anymore.

A minute later, the front door opened again.

“I’m ready,” Alexia said as she walked over. “Come on.”

You handed her the keys before walking around to the passenger side.

She slid into the driver’s seat, and you settled beside her.

The engine started.

Neither of you said a word.

Streetlights passed one after another, their light spilling through the windshield before disappearing again.

You swallowed.

“You were right, you know.”

“About what?” she asked, glancing at you before looking back at the road.

“I slept with Ellison.”

The words landed heavily between you. Alexia didn’t flinch. She didn’t turn her head, didn’t tighten her grip on the wheel, didn’t show anything at all. She just kept driving, eyes fixed on the dark road ahead, her face unreadable.

The silence settled again.

You wanted her to say something.

Anything.

To yell.

To cry.

To tell you it was over.

Maybe that would make this easier.

Maybe she’d have the strength to do what you couldn’t.

“I don’t even deserve to tell you this… you really don’t deserve it.” Your gaze stayed glued to the passing streets, voice shaking. “I couldn’t— I mean, I could. I did. But I couldn’t keep going. I mean… I did go through with it, but—”

Your words tangled, trembling just like the rest of you. Still nothing from her.

You closed your eyes for a second.

“She started kissing the tattoos I got for you…”

Your voice broke.

“…and I cried.”

You let out a small, humorless laugh, shaking your head.

“How pathetic is that?”

You wiped at your face, but the tears kept coming.

“I couldn’t do it.”

Every word felt heavier than the last.

“Every time she touched me, all I could think about was you.” You swallowed hard. “I kept asking myself…” Your voice cracked. “How could you do it?”

A sob escaped before you could stop it.

“How could you? Because I couldn’t.”

Another tear slipped free.

“Is it because I still love you?” you whispered.

You finally looked at her.

“Does that mean you don’t love me anymore?”

The words barely made it out.

“Because I don’t understand how you can love someone… and still go through with it.”

Alexia’s grip tightened around the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white.

“…Don’t.”

You frowned. “What?”

“Don’t tell me you couldn’t.” She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Don’t.”

A tear rolled down her cheek.

“Because that’s the part that’s going to fucking kill me.”

“I’ve spent months trying to come up with a reason.” She swallowed hard, eyes never leaving the road. “Something that would explain what I did.”

She laughed again.

“There isn’t one.”

Silence.

“But then you tell me…” She finally looked at you. “You got all the way there…”

Her voice cracked.

“And you couldn’t.” Her jaw flexed.

“I did.”

The words came out almost angrily.

“I fucking did.”

She hit the steering wheel once, making the horn chirp.

“I loved you. I loved you every single day and I still did it.”

She shook her head, blinking away fresh tears.

“So don’t ask me how.”

Her voice broke.

“Because I’ve been asking myself the same fucking question since the day it happened.”

She looked back at the road.

“And I still don’t have an answer.”

You wiped roughly at your face, trying to hold back another wave of sobs.

“I wish that made it easier.”

“I know,” she whispered.

Neither of you spoke again.

When the car finally turned onto your street, something inside your chest tightened.

Home.

It didn’t feel like home now.

Alexia pulled into the driveway and shifted the car into park, you climbed out first, closing the door quietly behind you.

The street was still, almost peaceful, but there was nothing peaceful about the way you felt.

A second later, Alexia stepped out, closing the driver’s door quietly behind her.

She walked around the front of the car, holding out the keys.

You took them without a word.

“I’ll call a taxi.”

She reached into her pocket for her phone.

You watched her for a moment and she looked smaller somehow.

Like the woman who had walked into the party hours earlier had been left behind somewhere along the drive.

“…Alexia.”

She looked up.

Your hand was already on the front door key, but you hadn’t unlocked it.

“If you want…” You hesitated. “…come inside.”

[mesquebarca]

pedri x ferran x fem!reader

Chapter 1

here’s chapter 2

—————————

plot: ferran and pedri fight over you, but then they realize there’s a better idea. reader goes to stadium, gets noticed there but she meets them again in the hotel gym.

warnings: nothing in this chapter, just jealousy, tension.

this is my first ever fanfic, english is not my first language, i hope you enjoy it!

———————————————

Today was the world cup final, spain vs argentina. You didn’t really care who won, you just went there for the vibes. It was a rough match with spain dominating and it ended with them winning. The stadium went crazy with chanting and screaming, for both spain and messi, the way everyone was happy in the team was incredibly lovely, but the best part was the awards part. You sat there watching spain get their world cup and you stayed until the very end when people started leaving the stadium.

You did not completely leave because you were waiting for your friend who was a translator for the Spain team, so you somehow had access to the private closed places they would be interviewed in, you entered and you took a seat, away from too many people.

Everyone was messy, the sounds were unbearably loud and most importantly, everyone knew each other so you could not really interact with anyone not even your friend, and you somehow felt like it was disrespectful to scroll on your phone while everyone was happy and doing something, so you just watched the room. How Spain players would hug each other every two seconds, laughing and joking, waiting for their turns to be interviewed. It warmed your heart how friendly and lovely they were to each other, so you gathered the courage to ask some of them for pictures.

What you didn’t expect is that it would end up with you having pictures with all of them individually and even with the whole team in one picture, except for two. Ferran and Pedri, they both took one picture with you with both of them in the same frame as you. They seemed super friendly to each other.

You thanked all of them, congratulated them on the win and went back to your seat. Minutes later Ferran appeared next to you. He didn’t speak to you, didn’t even look at you but he was there, in a chair next to you, scrolling on his phone.

He kept shifting and movin in his place, you couldn’t tell if he was going to say something to you or if he was uncomfortable.

“are you alone?” he spoke after a while.

The way he said it caught you off guard and you went silence for a bit before answering. You were used to being around famous people because of you friend but you never cared enough to learn how to speak to them, or if you should be honest or lie your way out of the conversation.

“I’m waiting for my friend” , you responded trying not to seem to invested in the conversation.

“oh, does she work here?” , he said.

“Yes she’ll be here in a bit, can i help you with something?” , you did not mean to sound mean, but you did, and before you could explain yourself, he interrupted you

“uh, nothing really just chatting i think?”

“sorry i didn’t mean to sound rude, i just-“

“you could make it up to me by giving me your number hm?” he interrupted you again.

“sorry i have a boyfriend”

“do you? is he as handsome as me?” , he was clearly being sarcastic, you can’t tell if he thinks you’re lying or if he actually don’t care that you have a boyfriend,

“come on, at least let me leave my number and you can call me if your boyfriend ever messes up” , he was definitely being serious now.

You were about to respond but then you saw your friend approaching you, you got up fast and hugged her a hello hug.

You tried informing her with your expressions to leave right now without asking any questions, and she caught up quickly, guiding you by hand to the exit.

“What’s wrong?” , she asked.

“Nothing, i just got a little anxious being around too many people, how were your interviews? did they go well?”.

She went on and on about how great the spanish players were and how she wasn’t nervous around them. You listened to everything she said, she worked so hard for this.

You guys went back to the hotel you were staying at, you had separate rooms since both of you had different schedules.

The rest of the day went normal. Morning came and you woke up, nothing new, breakfast, a little time on the balcony then gym.

But today’s gym session wasn’t usual, because the second you got there you saw Ferran again, and Pedri. They were the only two from the team that you recognized. And in that moment you wished that you didn’t book a hotel for fancy athletic people who are passionate about going to the gym.

The gym wasn’t exactly quiet but it wasn’t loud either, slight music playing, with not so many people working out. You were already in your training clothes so you just put your bag in the changing room and got into it.

No matter how much you tried ignoring it, you could always feel Ferran staring at you, or even catch him in the mirrors that were covering every wall in the gym.

“Hey there, again?” , he said approaching you, towel on his shoulder.

He looked good, really good. You found yourself staring at his broad shoulders and exposed arms, then up to his neck, and finally to his stupid grinning face that’s looking at you in an entirely different way now. He didn’t seem like he was trying to hide his intentions.

“do you have another reason to dismiss me today?” , he asked.

You didn’t say anything, or maybe you couldn’t. What does a one even say to that?

“come on, i promise you i’m not a creep hm?” , and before he could say anything his friend, Pedri joined him.

“you guys know each other?” he asked, too direct, not even a hi.

“we’re about to, right pretty?” Ferran tilted his head looking between you and Pedri.

“i’m sorry i told you i have a boyfr-“ and before you could continue, he interrupted you, he seeme to have made a habit out it.

“we both know you don’t have a boyfriend, or even worse you actually don’t care if he’s alive or dead, am i right?” Ferran was teasing but the way his words had truth in them offended you, you didn’t want to hear it like that, out loud, from a stranger.

“Just leave her alone she clearly isn’t interested, Ferran” Pedri said, he seemed like he wasn’t in a good mood, neither was he buying what his friend is doing.

“We have a long day ahead let’s get off the gym for now”. He added.

Throughout all of this, you didn’t say anything, you just kept looking between the two of them, their cheeks flushed after training, sweaty hairs and foreheads, they looked incredible. You did not even realize that you were staring until they said some goodbyes and moved away. What the hell?

On the other side, their side. Pedri wasn’t exactly happy, but Ferran couldn’t tell why, neither did he care. Pedri was always like this whenever Ferran would flirt with someone.

“do you think she has a boyfriend?” Ferran asked.

“are you kidding me now? she clearly does, besides do you enjoy torturing people?“ Pedri responded, trying to sound less angry than he is.

The day went by, followed by days and days, you went back home. The interaction still playing in your head sometimes but most of the time you would just try to brush it off.

You were curled up in your bed, you phone buzzed and a message from an unsaved number.

“hey, you probably don’t remember me but i’m sorry about my friend the other day” . That’s what the message said, and you swear you could feel question marks being visible around your head, huh?

“i’m Pedri by the way”

the second message made sense in your head, you had completely forgotten that Ferran had a friend with him, because all you kept thinking about was how he was insisting to get your number.

This is weird, you thought.

“how did you get my number?” , you immediately sent it without thinking twice.

“that’s not something hard in my world”

you didn’t respond so he added:

“we are throwing a party, don’t worry about crowd, it’s absolutely private and only full of people who mind their business and know how to keep a secret”.

you still haven’t responded yet, trying to process what’s happening when he added the details and the place of the party.

You hesitated a bit, but eventually realized that there is literally no reason for you to not go.

You and Pedri kept texting for few days before the party, you couldn’t help but to wonder if Ferran knows about this, though.

The weirdness of the situation was hard to ignore but the wisest thing to do was to wait until the party and see how they would both act around you and with each other.

The day of the party came, you somehow had an idea of what you wanted to wear and what you wanted to look like. By the time you finished putting on makeup and your outfit, it was almost time to leave the house.

You worse a brown cami tank with golden chain necklaces perfectly layered, paired with a mini jeans skirt with a belt, and cowboy boots. Your accessories were mixed between silver and gold and you put on the sexiest perfume you owned.

After a while you entered the place Pedri texted you its location and it was definitely something you didn’t expect.

It was a perfect mix between cozy and slutty, and before you finished admiring the place, a voice came into your ears.

“what are you doing here?” Oh God, it was Ferran, he doesn’t know.

“I was invited by a friend” you quickly said, sounding a little defensive.

“friend? i don’t recall that anyone who’s gonna be here today is a mutual friend between us…?” , he sounded genuinely confused, there was no way he was faking it or teasing.

“hey you there! you actually came!” A new voice joined in, Pedri.

You forced a smile and nodded. It felt like a disaster would happen if you said anything so you just decided not to.

“What? what’s going on here? since when do you know each other?” Ferran asked, and oh, he was definitely getting irritated.

“Well some of us can approach women without being total creeps” , Pedri teased.

The tension between the three of you was unbearable, Pedri seemed proud of himself, Ferran was visibly annoyed, and you… you felt like you were used to get here. What was going on? Were you some kind of bet? Why would this happen to you out of anyone? Do they hate each other? Is Pedri trying to prove something?

All of those thoughts got cut off by Pedri asking to show you around the place, and you just followed.

He showed you their smoking space, karaoke space, introduced you to some friends and finally led you to the bar, but he excused himself saying he will be back later on because he had some stuff to do. So you just ordered a drink and relaxed in your seat.

Few people were going and coming back to order drinks, you felt amazingly invisible, until Ferran joined you, again.

“how do you know him? did he hit on you?” he asked.

“we just got in contact somehow, we talked from time to time that’s all”

“do you like him or something?”

“why do you want to you? First you were weirdly fixated on my boyfriend and now you want to know about my love life again?” you scolded him.

“i’m not i just- just forget about it okay? i don’t wanna know anymore” . He was being dismissive but it was obvious how much he was acting, he does in fact want to know.

“you look beautiful, did he at least tell you that?” here he goes again.

“oh trust me i get told that i’m pretty all the time you don’t have to be petty about it”

“of course you do, of course” he murmured.

“excuse me did you say something?” you asked.

“no”

He got up intending to leave the seat

“i have stuff to do, see you later”.

And he immediately went searching for Pedri. The latter was found chilling with some friends in a sofa.

“Pedri get up i need to talk to you” he ordered, sounding so impatient, and yet, the tone didn’t express how furious he was.

He led Pedri to an empty place and without any warnings he pushed him.

“what do you think you’re doing, asshole?” Ferran said.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about”

“oh you do know Pedri because this is not your first time acting weird towards someone that i like, how did you get to her? how she even approve talking to you? huh?” Ferran was going and going about his questions and accusations.

“You just can’t accept that she likes you, Ferran. Are you even jealous about her? or me?” Pedri said sarcastically.

“What the fuck did you just say? Why would i be jealous you’re talking to someone?”

At this point their faces were insanely close to each other, the tension could cut someone’s skin. They took turns with looking into each other’s lips. For a while they didn’t say anything.

“You’re an asshole Pedri, you’ve always been like that towards me, i don’t get why you wouldn’t do the same to the other team members? why is it only my stuff and people that you want?”

“What if it’s not those that i want, but you?”. When Pedri said that, his heart was beating so fast against his chest, his ears were heating up, he thought that even Ferran could hear his beats and feel the heat from him.

“Oh please not with those mean jokes again, are you trying to get me, Ferran Torres, to admit that i like you? my teammate and friend since forever?”. Ferran was definitely being embarrassingly defensive. It’s not like he was lying, he was saying what he was feeling. Because he never admitted that he is attracted to Pedri to himself, never allowed himself to even think about it, so to him, it was just unresolved tension that had to do something with jealousy that’s related to football.

End of Chapter 1. Here’s a song with this vibe.

I am so sure no one is going to find this because i have no mutuals or followers but i really do hope anyone who read this, liked it! thank you so much

[lexiputellas]

chapter nineteen

It’s not about dinner - Broken Vows Series

It was the monthly team dinner, and this time everyone was coming to their house.

Alexia never should have offered.

At the time it had sounded perfect—one relaxed night with the team, good food, a chance to unwind before another brutal stretch of matches. Now, all she could think about was how she didn’t want to do it.

She came downstairs to the familiar sound of her mornings.

The television murmured in the living room, playing the colorful children’s show Iris demanded every single day. From the kitchen drifted the warm smell of fresh coffee and buttery toast.

Her wife was already up and moving.

Alexia paused at the bottom of the stairs and simply watched her.

This was the life she’d always wanted.

Which only made the choices she’d been making much harder to justify.

It had started with Eva almost by accident. One bad decision that snowballed into another. At first it had been purely physical—moments after training, hotel rooms on away trips. Now, Eva was the first person she wanted to vent to. Around her, there was no pressure to be Captain, no pressure to hold everything together, no pressure to be endlessly patient or strong. She could just be tired. Angry. Human. At home, someone always needed something from her.

Her wife glanced over her shoulder at the sound of footsteps.

“Morning.”

“Morning,” Alexia replied.

“You want coffee?”

Alexia nodded. “Please.”

Her wife poured a mug without another word and slid it across the island. Alexia wrapped her hands around it, letting the warmth seep into her palms.

They sat in comfortable silence for a minute, the kind of quiet that had once felt peaceful.

Her wife finally looked up from the list she’d been scribbling on the back of an envelope.

“So…” she said, voice casual, “what do you want to make for dinner tonight?”

Alexia stared at the grocery list for a long moment, then lifted her coffee for another slow sip.

“I don’t know.”

Her wife waited, pen hovering over the paper.

“…Anything’s fine.”

“‘Anything isn’t an answer, Ale.”

Alexia shrugged, eyes already drifting away. “I genuinely don’t care.”

Her wife tapped the pen against the counter, the soft clicking the only sound between them. “Pasta? Or should we just barbecue?”

“Either.”

A beat of silence.

Her wife exhaled. “I’m asking because I have to go shopping. I need to know what to buy.”

“I know,” Alexia said, still not looking up. Her gaze had drifted to Iris, who was spinning in dizzy circles in front of the television, arms flailing with joy.

“I’ll check later.”

Another patient nod. “What about dessert?”

Alexia set her mug down with a quiet clink. “Babe.”

“What?”

“You keep asking me questions I don’t have answers for.”

“I’m asking because it’s our dinner. I don’t want to make every single decision alone.”

“I said I don’t care,” Alexia replied, a flicker of irritation crossing her face. “I’m fine with whatever you pick.”

Her wife studied her for a moment, the faint smile she offered not reaching her eyes. “That’s not helping.”

Alexia frowned. “It feels like you’re trying to pick a fight.”

“I’m not.” Her wife looked down at the list again, crossing something off with a little more pressure than necessary. “I’m really not.”

The kitchen grew heavy with silence.

Nora appeared in the doorway, backpack slung over one shoulder. “I’m ready.”

Her wife’s expression softened instantly. “Okay, sweetheart. Go put your shoes on. We’ll leave in two minutes.”

Nora padded off down the hallway. The moment she was out of earshot, her wife turned back to Alexia, voice lower now.

“I have to drop Nora and Iris off, run to the supermarket, come home, clean the house, and start cooking before everyone gets here.” She let out a tired breath. “I just wanted you to help me decide a few things.”

“I did help.”

“You said ‘whatever’ to everything.”

Alexia’s frown deepened. “Why are we arguing over this?”

“We aren’t.” Her wife’s voice dropped even softer. “It just feels like… lately, I’m doing all the thinking for both of us.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is.”

“It’s one dinner,” Alexia said.

Her wife looked at her for a long moment before speaking.

“It stopped being about dinner a while ago, Ale.”

Alexia’s arms tightened across her chest. “What does that mean?”

Her wife hesitated, then spoke with quiet resignation.

“It means I feel like I’m losing you a little more every day.”

Alexia let out a frustrated breath and set her coffee mug down on the counter.

“I’m not doing this.”

Before her wife could answer, she turned and headed upstairs.

“I’m going to training.”

She disappeared down the hallway without looking back.

For a moment, the kitchen was silent.

Her wife closed her eyes briefly before exhaling, forcing herself to let the conversation go.

“Nora!” she called toward the house. “We’re leaving!”

She walked into the living room, where Iris was still swaying happily in front of the television, completely engrossed in the cartoon.

“Come here, baby.”

Iris turned with a grin and toddled straight into her mother’s waiting arms.

“Bye-bye, TV,” her wife murmured, pressing a kiss to the little girl’s temple as she switched it off.

An immediate whine escaped Iris’s lips, but it only lasted a second before she rested her head against her mother’s shoulder.

“Let’s go get your sister.”

With Iris balanced on one hip, she grabbed her keys, and her own bag from the kitchen counter.

“Ready?” she asked as Nora appeared.

Nora adjusted the strap of her backpack and gave a quick nod. “Ready.”

Alexia joined them by the door at the same time, dressed in her training kit with her gym bag slung over one shoulder.

“Ready, norita?”

Nora flashed a grin. “Yep.”

Alexia stepped over, wrapping an arm around her shoulders for a quick hug before kissing the top of her head.

“Have a good day at school.”

“I will.”

“And be nice.”

“I am nice.”

“Mhm.”

“I am!” Nora laughed.

“We’ll see.”

Nora rolled her eyes dramatically, unable to stop herself from smiling.

Her wife opened the front door first, and the cool morning air drifted inside. Alexia followed them out, closing the door behind her.

At the car, her wife opened the rear passenger door. Without thinking, Alexia reached for Iris.

“I’ve got her.”

Their fingers brushed as the toddler was passed between them. Iris immediately wrapped one arm around Alexia’s neck before pulling back to smile at her.

Alexia kissed her forehead and settled her into the car seat.

Iris immediately began babbling about her cartoon, speaking so quickly that half the words blended together.

Alexia nodded along with complete seriousness.

“¿De verdad? ¿Un dinosaurio hizo eso?”

Iris nodded excitedly.

“Vaya… eso sí que es impresionante.”

She tightened the straps of the car seat, checking each one before brushing a loose curl away from Iris’s face.

“There we go. Be good for Mom today.”

Iris giggled.

Alexia leaned in for one last kiss before gently closing the door.

She turned to Nora, who was already climbing into the back seat.

“Love you.”

“Love you too,” Nora replied without hesitation.

Alexia smiled and shut the door.

Her wife was already behind the wheel. Alexia rested a hand on the open window for a brief moment.

“Drive safe.”

Her wife looked at her. The expression wasn’t warm, but it wasn’t cold either—careful, restrained.

“You too.”

Alexia gave a small nod and stepped back, watching until the car disappeared around the corner before heading toward her own.

The rest of the day slipped by in a blur.

By the time night settled over Barcelona, their house was exactly as it always was on team dinner nights.

Music played softly through the big open living area. It mixed with the sound of people talking and laughing. Teammates walked easily between the kitchen, dining table, and terrace.

Alexia had just reached for another beer when she heard—

“Ale.”

She turned.

Mapi was standing a few feet away.

“You got a minute?”

Alexia nodded.

They walked toward the side of the house, away from the voices and laughter.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

Mapi shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans.

“You know…” she started quietly, “I wasn’t going to say anything.”

Alexia looked at her.

“I kept telling myself it wasn’t my place.”

“What isn’t?”

“Irene asked me something the other day,” Mapi said, leaning her forearms against the railing.

“Yeah?” Alexia asked before taking another sip of her beer.

“She asked if everything was okay with you.”

Alexia shrugged. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I don’t know.” Mapi looked at her. “That’s why I’m asking.”

“I’m fine.”

“And here?” Mapi asked after a brief pause.

“We’re fine,” Alexia replied.

“You sure?” Mapi searched her face.

Alexia let out a small laugh. “Where is this coming from?”

“I don’t know…” Mapi admitted, glancing back through the patio doors. “You just haven’t seemed like yourself lately.”

“I’ve been tired.”

“We’re all tired.”

“It’s been a long season.”

“It has,” Mapi agreed, letting the silence settle between them.

Finally, she looked back at Alexia.

“Is there someone else?”

Alexia frowned before letting out a disbelieving laugh.

“What?”

“I’m serious.”

“What do you mean, ‘someone else’?” Alexia asked, her brows drawing together.

“I’m asking if there’s someone else.”

Alexia shook her head.

“Mapi, that’s ridiculous.”

“I thought so too,” Mapi admitted quietly. “I kept telling myself I was reading too much into things.”

“You are.”

“I wanted to be.”

Alexia’s smile faded.

“But then I started paying attention.”

“There isn’t anything to pay attention to.”

“You and Eva.”

Alexia answered almost immediately.

“She’s the club doctor.”

“I know who she is.”

“So?”

“So…” Mapi hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “People have noticed you spend a lot of time together.”

“We work together,” Alexia replied, irritation creeping into her voice.

“I know.”

“We’re around each other because of football.”

“I know.”

“Then what’s the issue?” Alexia asked, spreading her hands.

Mapi held her gaze.

“I don’t think you’re telling me everything.”

Alexia’s jaw tightened.

“I’ve told you everything there is to tell.”

“No, you haven’t.”

“Maria…”

“I’m giving you the chance to be honest with me,” Mapi said, her voice still calm.

“I am being honest.”

Mapi gave a slow nod.

“Okay.”

She lowered her eyes for a moment before looking back up.

“Then look me in the eye and tell me there’s never been anything between you and Eva.”

Alexia met her gaze without hesitation.

“There hasn’t.”

Mapi watched her in silence.

One second.

Two.

Three.

Finally, she shook her head.

“No.”

Alexia frowned.

“What do you mean, ‘no’?”

“I mean…” Mapi swallowed. “I don’t believe you.”

Alexia scoffed. “That’s your problem.”

“No.” Mapi’s voice grew firmer. “It’s yours.”

“I answered your question.”

“You lied to me.”

“I didn’t.”

“You did.”

Alexia took a step back, shaking her head.

“This is insane.”

“Is it?” Mapi asked, the hurt finally creeping into her voice. “I’ve spent weeks convincing myself everyone else had it wrong.”

She laughed bitterly, rubbing a hand over her face.

“I kept thinking, ‘Not Alexia. She’d never do that.’”

Alexia looked away.

Mapi felt her heart sink.

“There it is.”

Alexia stayed silent.

“You can’t even look at me,” Mapi said quietly.

Alexia swallowed hard, her eyes fixed on the ground.

“Ale…” Mapi’s voice softened. “Please.”

Alexia squeezed her eyes shut.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” Mapi whispered.

Alexia didn’t answer.

“Please… tell me I’m wrong.”

The silence stretched between them.

Mapi felt her stomach knot.

“…Did you?” she asked, barely above a whisper.

Alexia’s shoulders sagged.

“It wasn’t supposed to happen,” she admitted, her voice cracking.

Mapi froze.

For a long moment, she simply stared at her friend of years.

Then she let out a hollow, disbelieving laugh.

“You did.”

Alexia couldn’t bring herself to respond.

“You actually did. Jesus Christ, Ale.”

She shook her head slowly.

“How could you?”

Alexia kept her eyes on the ground, unable to meet her gaze.

“How long?” Mapi asked quietly.

Alexia swallowed. “…A few months.”

Mapi closed her eyes.

“A few months,” she repeated, almost to herself.

When she opened them again, the hurt had given way to anger.

“So every day you’ve come home…” she said, gesturing toward the house, “…you’ve looked her in the eye and lied.”

Alexia rubbed a hand over her face.

“It wasn’t supposed to—”

“No.” Mapi cut her off with a sharp shake of her head. “Don’t say that again.

Silence settled between them.

“I know,” Alexia whispered.

“No, you don’t.”

Mapi turned toward the patio doors.

Inside, Alexia’s wife was helping Nora cut another slice of cake while balancing Iris on her hip. She was laughing at something Cata had said, completely unaware of the conversation happening outside.

Mapi stared at her for a long moment.

“She has no idea, does she?”

Alexia didn’t answer.

Mapi looked back at her. “Does she?”

“…No.”

A bitter laugh escaped Mapi. “Of course she doesn’t.”

Another silence.

“You need to tell her,” Mapi said firmly.

Alexia’s head snapped up. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“I can’t.”

“You have to.”

Alexia shook her head. “It’ll destroy her.”

Mapi stared at her in disbelief. “It already is.”

Alexia frowned. “What?”

“You just don’t see it yet.”

Mapi took a step closer.

“When she finds out and she will find out, it isn’t just the affair that’s going to destroy her.”

Alexia’s chest tightened.

“It’s every morning you kissed her goodbye.”

Mapi’s voice shook.

“Every ‘I love you.’ Every dinner. Every night you climbed into bed beside her while you were sleeping with someone else.”

Alexia squeezed her eyes shut. “Stop.”

“No.”

Mapi’s composure finally broke.

“Do you think she’s going to look back on the last few months and remember the happy moments?”

“She’s going to question every single one of them.”

Alexia couldn’t breathe.

“She’s going to wonder which smiles were real. Which touches were real. Whether you were thinking about Eva while you were holding your daughters.”

“Mapi…”

She pointed toward the house.

“There’s a woman in there who has built her whole life around you.”

Alexia looked through the glass.

Mapi’s voice softened, but it hurt even more.

“She trusts you, Ale.”

Alexia felt tears sting her own eyes.

“You owe her the truth.”

Alexia’s shoulders slumped.

“I know.”

“No,” Mapi said quietly. “I don’t think you do.”

She looked at Alexia one last time. “I can’t do this right now.”

Alexia opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

With that, she turned and walked back toward the house, leaving Alexia standing alone on the patio.

The warmth and noise hit her the moment she stepped inside.

No one noticed the redness around her eyes.

“You’re leaving already?” Pina asked, looking up from the couch with a half-empty wine glass in her hand.

Mapi forced a small smile. “Yeah. I have to call Ingrid.”

“You always have an excuse,” Patri teased.

“I know.”

She walked over to the dining table where Alexia’s wife was.

“Hey,” Mapi said softly.

Alexia’s wife looked up and smiled. “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah.”

“Thank you for coming.”

“Thank you for having us.”

Without thinking, Alexia’s wife wrapped her in a quick hug.

“I’m sorry it was a bit chaotic.”

Mapi closed her eyes for the briefest second before hugging her back.

“It was perfect.”

When they pulled away, Alexia’s wife laughed.

“You don’t have to lie just to make me feel better.”

“I’m not lying,” Mapi said quietly.

She meant it.

Mapi glanced around the room, saying goodbye to the rest of the team before making her way to the front door.

Alexia didn’t move for another minute.

She stood on the patio, staring into the darkness, until the laughter from inside reminded her that everyone else was still there.

She drew in a slow breath, rubbed both hands over her face, and forced her expression back into something neutral before sliding the patio door open.

Her wife looked up the moment Alexia walked in.

“There you are,” she said, her brow knitting together almost immediately. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.”