#eric garcia fluff

between us pt.2

pairing: eric garcia x torres!reader

summary: in which you fall for your brother's teammate

waarnings: none!

a/n: requested on my wattpad!

prev // next

the problem with deciding to hide something is that it immediately becomes more tempting.

more reckless.

more alive.

you tell yourselves you’ll be careful.

you are not careful.

the first time you stay at eric’s place, it isn’t planned.

it was supposed to be coffee.

then a walk.

then “just one movie” on his couch.

and suddenly it’s midnight and you’re barefoot on his kitchen tiles, wearing one of his hoodies, laughing too loud at something that isn’t even that funny.

“i should go,” you say weakly.

neither of you move.

“yeah,” he agrees, not letting go of your hand.

you both know you won’t.

when he kisses you this time, it isn’t hesitant.

it’s not balcony-soft and unsure.

it’s months of tension and years of almost.

it’s his hands firm at your waist, your fingers in his hair, the quiet gasp you don’t manage to swallow.

you wake up the next morning in his bed, sunlight pouring across white sheets, his arm heavy and warm around your middle.

for a moment, it feels simple.

then your phone buzzes.

ferran: when are u coming home?

your stomach drops.

you slide out of bed carefully, grabbing your clothes from the floor.

eric blinks awake. “everything okay?”

“yeah,” you whisper. “i just— i told ferran i was at a friend’s.”

eric pushes himself up on one elbow, watching you.

“so technically not a lie,” he murmurs.

you throw him a look. “don’t.”

he smiles, slow and infuriatingly soft.

you lean down and kiss him again anyway.

reckless.

“how was marta’s?” ferran asks that afternoon, tossing you an apple from the kitchen counter.

you catch it, hoping your face isn’t giving anything away.

“good. we watched a movie.”

“which one.”

you freeze for half a second.

“uh. the one with — you know. the sad dog.”

ferran squints. “that’s not a title.”

“it was sad. there was a dog. i cried. end of story.”

he watches you a beat longer than comfortable.

then shrugs.

“dog movies are sad.”

you exhale internally.

too easy.

dangerously easy.

it gets worse after that.

when ferran and eric hang out at your apartment, you play your part.

casual.

normal.

until eric stands up mid-conversation.

“bathroom,” he mutters.

ferran doesn’t even look up from his phone.

you’re already halfway down the hallway.

the bathroom door closes.

two seconds later, it opens again and eric slips into your room instead.

you barely have time to whisper “you’re insane” before he’s kissing you.

quick.

urgent.

like you’re stealing something.

which you are.

“he’s in the other room,” you breathe against his mouth.

“i know.”

“this is stupid.”

“yeah.”

he kisses you again anyway.

your heart pounds so loud you’re convinced ferran can hear it through the walls.

a floorboard creaks in the hallway and you jump apart like you’ve been caught committing a crime.

eric smooths his shirt, runs a hand through his hair.

“get out before he gets suspicious,” you hiss.

“so worth it,” he smiles, already backing toward the door.

he actually goes into the bathroom this time, flushes the toilet for effect.

you sit on your bed trying to steady your breathing.

when you both reappear in the living room, ferran glances up.

his eyes move between you.

slow.

assessing.

“why do you both look red?" he asks.

“it’s hot,” you answer immediately.

“yeah,” eric echoes.

ferran looks at the air conditioner humming above you.

it is very much not hot.

he narrows his eyes.

but he doesn’t say anything.

the closest call happens on a thursday.

ferran’s at eric’s place.

you’re not supposed to be there.

you were.

you’d come over earlier, thinking ferran was still at pedri's.

timing miscalculated.

you’re in eric’s bedroom when you hear the front door open.

ferran’s voice carries down the hallway.

“hermanoo, i’m starving.”

your blood turns to ice.

eric looks at you.

you look at him.

“balcony,” he whispers urgently.

“are you insane.”

“trust me.”

you absolutely do not trust him.

but you slip out onto the small back balcony anyway, heart in your throat.

you can hear them in the kitchen.

cupboards opening.

ferran talking about something from training.

eric responding like nothing is wrong.

like you are not hiding ten feet away trying not to breathe too loudly.

after what feels like an hour but is probably like seven minutes, eric appears in the doorway.

“i’m grabbing something from my room,” he calls casually.

his footsteps approach.

the balcony door slides open just enough for him to slip outside.

you glare at him. “this is your fault.”

“you look hot when you’re mad.”

“eric.”

he kisses you anyway.

quick.

reckless.

“five minutes,” he murmurs. “i'll distract him then you leave through the stairwell. he won’t see.”

you stare at him.

“you’re enjoying this way too much.”

“a little.”

you shove his shoulder.

but you’re smiling.

and that’s the problem.

because this isn’t just hiding.

it’s thrilling.

it’s dangerous.

it’s you sneaking out of his building with your hood up while your brother laughs in the kitchen, completely unaware.

it’s eric texting you five seconds later:

him: made it out alive?

you: you’re going to ruin my life.

him: worth it.

you shouldn’t love that answer.

you do.

but ferran isn’t stupid.

he starts watching.

small things at first.

the way eric’s body subtly angles toward you in group settings.

the way you both disappear at the same time a little too often.

the inside jokes that don’t make sense to anyone else.

one night, ferran pauses mid-sentence while the three of you are sitting in the living room.

his eyes move between you.

back and forth.

slow.

“…what,” you ask carefully.

he leans back against the couch.

“nothing.”

it’s the same tone as before.

which means it’s absolutely something.

eric’s knee brushes yours.

you don’t move it away.

ferran notices that too.

you see it in the slight tightening of his jaw.

the protective instinct flickering on like a warning light.

and suddenly the thrill feels thinner.

more fragile.

because sneaking around is fun.

until it isn’t.

Relax~Eric García

・❥・prompt list

・❥・masterlist -> part 2

・❥・who I write for

・❥・a/n: Eric needs more fics!! he needs more recognition ☹️

The soft sound of Eric's alarm echoed in the room, making him stir almost immediately. He quickly reached over to turn it off, glancing at the girl tangled in the sheets next to him to make sure she was still asleep.

For the first time in days she was sleeping still, her breathing slow and even after what felt like ages. Her brows weren't furrowed in stress like they had been all week. No more finals, no more all nighters, and finally no more whispered “Just five more minutes, i promise I'll sleep soon”

Eric smiled, reaching over to run his fingers through her hair. She shifted slightly, almost unnoticeable.

“go back to sleep amor. I'll be back from training before you wake up,” he whispered, leaning down to press a kiss on her forehead.

She didn't move, so Eric got ready in the bathroom, making sure not to make much noise.

He grabbed his bag and glanced back at her, hair messy and wrapped up in his blanket.

He walked over silently, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He pressed a kiss on her cheek, whispering a quiet ‘te amo’ before leaving the room and shutting the door behind him.

Training went by too quickly, and Eric was thankful for that. All he was thinking about was what he's gonna do for his girl who's back home, cuddled up in his hoodie, sleeping in his bed.

On his way home, he stopped by her favorite bakery, buying her the famous chocolate muffin she never shuts up about. And when he finally got home, he entered quietly, glancing towards the bedroom, only for the door to be closed which meant she was still asleep.

He smiled to himself, dropping his gym bag and jacket and walking to the kitchen.

Eggs were cooked, fresh juice was poured into her mug, fruits were cut, and the fresh muffin was placed next to everything else.

He carried the platter to the bedroom, opening the door very carefully. And there she was, still in deep sleep.

Not wanting to disturb her, Eric placed the tray on his nightstand, and got in bed next to her.

When she felt the weight of him next to her, she quickly turned to his side, pulling him down and laying on top of him.

“buenos días princesa,” he chuckled, reaching up to cradle her head as she laid against his chest. (good morning princess)

She muttered something inaudible against his shirt, tightening her grip around him.

“I made you breakfast,” he murmured, fingers tangled through her hair.

At that she lifted her head to look at him, eyes barely open, hair as messy as ever, but still she managed to look like the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.

“muffin?” she asked, her voice was hoarse and deep with sleep.

Eric smiled, nodding his head. Her face lit up instantly, and she sat up fully.

“I can't believe you only got up for a muffin,” he muttered, more to himself but she still heard him.

“God forbid a girl loves her stomach,” she said, now more awake, rolling her eyes playfully.

“just tell me good morning to get this muffin,” Eric said, holding the tray of food away from her.

She groaned, but the smile on his face made her melt immediately.

“good morning my very handsome and thoughtful boyfriend,” she said sweetly, smiling at him sarcastically.

When she tried reaching for the food, he pulled back again.

“nah uh. you forgot something,” he pointed toward his cheek, making her sigh.

She grabbed his face and placed the messiest sloppiest kiss on his cheek.

Eric hummed, finally placing the food in her lap.

She squealed, reaching for the muffin first. She took a big bite, humming in satisfaction as she savored the taste of the chocolate in her mouth.

Eric watched her with a smile, noticing how badly these finals had worn her down, but now they're over and he can go back to babying her like she deserves.

“yow wan shum?” her voice muffled, mouth full and lips messy with crumbs.

Eric took a bite of the muffin in her hand, eyes widening as he tasted probably the most delicious thing he's ever eaten

“Oh this is so good,” he groaned, taking another quick bite before she pulled it away from him.

“I'm telling your dietitian about this,” she teased, taking a sip of her juice.

Eric gasped dramatically, reaching over to take one of the strawberries he had cut.

“You wouldn't dare,” he challenged her, making her raise an eyebrow.

“Try me,” she shrugged, making him chuckle.

As she continued eating, Eric watched her closely. How her hair fell down her face, the crumbs on her chin and around her lips, the way her eyes lit up when she took another bite of her muffin, and finally he noticed how carefree she looked after weeks of suffering from her finals.

“how are you feeling, mi corazón ?” he gently tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, making her look at him.

“I'm fine. Just happy that the finals are over and I can go back to my normal life,” she said with a sigh, making him smile.

“That’s amazing, sweetheart. you've been so tired the last few weeks I almost thought I lost you for a bunch of books,” he joked, but she knew that deep down he was actually getting worried.

“don't worry baby, that's how I get each year during my finals since I was practically 10. although back then no one made me breakfast in bed and bought me my favorite muffin,” she said with a giggle, making his smile wider.

“I'm glad to be your first muffin-buyer then,” he teased, leaning over to wipe the crumbs of her lips.

Before he had the chance to wipe everything off, she leaned in and kissed him. Her hand cupped his cheek as he tilted his head only for her to deepen the kiss.

“mhm that tasted amazing,” he murmured against her lips, making her giggle and slap his chest playfully.

“Let me continue my food now,”

Under the Radar🤫

—

Tehehe I had to write another one for Eric🤭 also ft. Ferran🙂‍↔️

—

—

FLUFF- Your relationship with Eric has always been a secret— a quiet, sacred thing kept away from the public eye. The fans have theories, of course. Matching bracelets, similar vacation spots, a single blurry reflection in his Instagram but no one has proof. Until Ferran accidental slips, revealing way more than anyone was supposed to see…

—

You and Eric are good at being invisible.

It wasn’t intentional at first— just cautious smiles, stolen glances, the way his hand would brush your lower back when no one was watching. But the world isn’t kind to private lives.

Especially not when the man you’re dating plays for one of the most-watched clubs in Europe.

So you stayed low. No tagged photos. No matching posts. The same place at the same time, but never in the same frame. Your friends called it stressful. You called it safety. He called it yours.

Eric never needed the world to know. He just needed you.

“You know I’d go public if you wanted to,” he’d said once, brushing your hair behind your ear as you lay on his chest in a hotel room in Seville. “But I like it like this. Quiet. Just us.”

You did too.

But quiet things can still be loud if you look closely. And the fans— God, the fans look.

Your nails in a blurry photo. His phone lock screen flashing in a press conference. A background laugh in your IG story that sounds a hell of a lot like his.

Clues. Always clues.

But no proof.

Until him.

Ferran Torres. The walking spoiler. A best friend with a loose filter and a love for going live without warning.

—

It happened on a lazy Sunday afternoon. You were at Eric’s apartment, curled up on the couch, your legs tangled over his lap as he scrolls through Netflix and you’re quietly teasing him for never being able to choose a show.

You’re both in sweats, his hoodie swallowing your frame, your hair a beautiful mess from the nap you took on his chest twenty minutes ago.

The calm is everything.

Then the door bursts open.

“¡Hermano!” Ferran’s voice cuts through the quiet like a knife, grinning like he owns the place. “Bro, are you really skipping the game for— oh. Ohhh.”

You freeze. Eric flinches like he’s been caught shoplifting.

You try to sit up, but it’s too late.

Ferran’s phone is already up.

Live.

Live.

LIVE.

And you're in frame.

You— half in his lap, Eric’s hand on your bare thigh, your fingers tangled in his hair.

It’s intimate. Way too intimate to play off as a joke.

“Ferran,” Eric hisses, lunging forward. “Turn it off.”

But Ferran is frozen for a full second, eyes wide.

Then the panic hits. “Shit. SHIT.” He fumbles the phone, laughs nervously, fakes a cough. “Sorry, guys, technical— I— uh, bye!” Click.

The silence afterward is deafening.

Eric’s hand is still on your leg. Your heart is still in your throat.

“Did that just—”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “It did.”

—

It took all of ten minutes for Twitter to explode.

“WHO IS THAT GIRL ON ERIC’S LAP?”

“Wait. Is that the same girl from the bracelet post??”

“Not Ferran accidentally leaking the soft launch of the year.”

“Her LAUGH. It’s the same as the audio from Eric’s story in March. I KNEW IT.”

You cover your face with both hands. “I’m going to die.”

Eric pulls you in closer instead. “No, I am. I’m going to kill Ferran first, then I’ll die.”

You want to laugh. But you can’t. Because everything— all your careful steps, your hidden dates, the fear and the thrill of being invisible together— is now undone.

And weirdly… it feels kind of freeing.

—

Later that night, Ferran sends a text:

Ferran:

okay so maybe i accidentally made you both go viral but… the comments are cute? they ship you. HARD.

Ferran (again):

also please don’t block me. love u both lol

You throw your phone on the couch.

Eric chuckles. “You’re not mad?”

You look at him. At the way his curls fall over his eyes, at the way he’s been holding your hand since it happened. And for once, there’s nothing to hide.

“No,” you say. “I think I’m kind of relieved.”

He leans in, kisses your forehead softly. “Then maybe we stop hiding.”

You pause. Smile. “Just a little?”

He grins.

“Just enough.”

—

The next day:

Eric posts a photo. No caption. Just his hand holding yours— same bracelet, same hoodie sleeve, same couch.

Ferran comments:

About time🙄🔥

And with that the internet full broke.

—

Hello new followers I do see all of you so HUGE big welcome to all who are new & recent!🤗

Requested: yes

Prompt: Singing a lullaby

Baby Promptlist

It had been a whirlwind few months for Y/n and Eric Garcia. The birth of their daughter, Sofia, had been a beautiful moment, but the sleepless nights, constant feedings, and never-ending diaper changes had left Y/n running on fumes. "You okay?" Eric asked as Y/n groggily sat down at the litchen table. "Yeah." She mumbled. "Im just-" She paused, looking over at her boyfriend. "Look at me. I ust don't feel like I'm dping this right. It's feels like Im not doing anything right for Sofia, not to mention I have a breakout and no amount of cleanser or toner is fixing it." She rested her head on the table. "Nothing is working." Eric hated seeing her like this. She had been nothing short of incredible since Sofia was born, getting up most nights to tend to her, caring for her whilst Eric was away at training or matches. To him, she was almost like a superhero wifh everything she was doing.

"You need a spa day." Eric said, stroking his fingers through her hair. "Just you and your friend, no distractions, no responsibilities for a few hours." Y/n looked up and smiled, though her tired eyes betrayed her. "That sounds amazing, but are you sure you can handle everything with Sofia by yourself?" Eric puffed his chest out, feigning confidence. "Of course! It's just one day. How hard can it be?"

"Please don't say that. Those are famous last words." Eric stood up. "Come on, amor. I can do it. Besides, it would be nice to spend some time with her beflre the champions league starts up. I wont be seeing you both for days at a time flr some lf the games." Y/n sighed. The spa day sounded great, but she pondered pn whether or nlt Eric would be good at all this. The diaper changing, the baby feeding, all of it. "Okay, okay, fine. I'll go." Eric grinned, kissing the top of her head. "You deserve it."

A few days later, Y/n stood at the front door of their house walking Eric through everything. "If she gets hungry, I left some milk so all you really need tl do is prepare it. If she starts crying, walk around with her for a bit, that usually works. Any other problems call me." Eric chuckled. "I will not be calling you on your day off. This is a daddy-daughter day." Y/n smiled uneasily. "Y/n, I can do this." He reassured her. "You’re right. You can do it. But just, if there is a problem, you know-"

"Amor." Y/n sighed, kissing her daughter then turning to kiss her boyfriend. "I love you." He smiled. "I love you too. Ill see you later!" As Y/n and her friend drove off, Eric stood in the doorway holding Sofia, waving them goodbye. "We've got this, right Sof?" He whispered to his daughter, who looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes. For the first hour, everything was smooth. Eric fed Sofia a bottle, changed her diaper, and even managed to get her to fall asleep. He plopped down on the couch, proud of himself. "Easy peasy." He muttered, grabbing his phone to message some of the guys. They begged him to join them in playing Fifa, but he said no. He couldn't, not whilst he was meant to be takong care of Sofia. He instead, prompted himself to call Frenkie. "Eric." The dutchman said. "What do you do when Mikkey is away and you have to take care of the baby by yourself?" Eric asked. "Hello to you too." Frenkie laughed. "Why? Is Y/n gone shopping?"

"No, no. I sent her and her friend on a Spa day. I thought she needed it." Eric replied. "She trusted you with a baby for that long?" Frenkie joked. "You're hilarious, but seriously. What do you do?"

"Well, right now Miles is just on some sort of playmat Mikkey picked up for him back home. He likes that but I dont think Sofia is able to dp that yet." Eric's brows furrowed. "Why?" He asked. "You dont have a playmat, do you? Anyway, when Miles was that little, I kind of just let him lie on my chest or just let him sleep. They need to sleep as much as possible. Plus, its nice to enjoy the peace."

But his moment of peace was short-lived. A shrill cry pierced the air. Sofia was awake—and she was not happy. "Mierda. I'll call you back!" Eric said quicly hanging up, just hearing Frenkie's laugh through the speaker. Eric hurried over to the crib, lifting his daughter into his arms. "Hey, hey, it's okay, baby." He cooed, bouncing her lightly. But Sofia’s cries only grew louder. He checked her diaper; dry. He offered her the bottle; she pushed it away. He walked laps around the living room, swaying her gently, but nothing seemed to work. The crying continued, and Eric could feel himself starting to panic.

"What do you need, Sof? What am I doing wrong?" He muttered, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He tried walking into different rooms, tried playing soft music, but nothing helped. Sofia just kept crying. Defeated, Eric sank onto the rocking chair in Sofia’s nursery. He held her close, gently swaying back and forth, back and forth. He was about to give up when a memory popped into his head; Y/n, softly singing a lullaby when Sofia had been crying one night. "I guess it’s worth a shot." Eric murmured to himself. Taking a deep breath, he began singing softly, his voice shaky at first.

"Hush, little baby, don’t say a word. Daddy's gonna buy you a mocking bird-"

Slowly, to his amazement, Sofia’s cries began to quiet. She stared up at him with her big eyes, her tiny hands gripping his shirt as she slowly drifted off. Eric kept rocking, kept singing, even as her breathing evened out and she finally, blissfully, fell asleep. Eric sat there for a few more minutes, savoring the quiet moment, before quietly making his way back down to the living room and gently placing her back in her crib. He exhaled deeply, half in relief and half in disbelief that he had managed to calm her down.

Later that afternoon, Y/n returned, her face glowing with relaxation. "I'm back!" She smiled as she stepped into the house, her eyes immediately darting to the baby monitor in her hand. Eric was stretched out on the couch, a proud grin on his face. "How was your spa day?" He asked, getting up to greet her. "Perfect." Y/n said, leaning in for a kiss. "But I think the real highlight was seeing you on the baby monitor." Eric froze. "Wait, what?" Y/n laughed, holding up her phone. "Yeah, I had the baby monitor app open while I was at the spa. I saw everything. It was adorable. You singing to her, rocking her to sleep. I’m not going to lie, I have never been more attracted to you before in my entire life."

Eric’s face turned bright red. "You saw that?" She wrapped her arms around his neck. "Of course." Y/n teased. "And I loved every second of it. You did great." Eric relaxed, letting out a small chuckle. "I was a little out of my depth there for a minute. But hey, I think we made it through." Y/n kissed his cheek. "You’re amazing, Eric. Thank you for this. It means the world to me." He smiled, pulling her closer. "Anything for you. And for Sofia. But, uh, next time, maybe you can stay just a little closer to home?"

**There is a reason why I moved this request to the first one on the list and it’s that I got it the day I had a dream about Èric. So I used the dream and changed it a bit to create this imagine. I had joked about doing that before getting the request so the timing is hilarious. And don’t judge my dreams. I only dreamed a tiny part of this, the rest is made up. Also, I fall asleep checking my IG explore and there were photos of him with the Betis kit so my brain did that. Second also, I don’t want him to go to Betis but we move…Enjoy!! ❤️**

Word count: 2801

Masterlist

Wattpad

 Player: Eric García Word count: 1970+ Summary: Eric gets a call while at an away game with Man City from his agent, if he says yes to his agent, it will change everything for his future and yours. Warnings: Angst, fluff, slight smut. Author's note: This took me various drafts and rewrites because it's the first one I write with a bit of smut in it, hope you like it. -----------------------------------------------------------

It was late in the spring and it was starting to get a bit warmer. Eric and y/n have been dating for a few months now. He was away in London playing against West Ham. You talk every day, even if you only see each other an average of two days a week right now. Man City is playing in the Champions League, Caribou, and the Premier, so, that means, you could barely see each other in person but you video call constantly. You even came up with a fun idea of watching movies or series at the same time wherever you are and texting each other while you both watch it, just so you could feel like you’re spending time together.   

      That night, after the 1-2 victory over the London side, Eric called you when he got to the hotel. You were already in bed, getting some reading done for one of the classes at uni. You click the green facetime button. 

“Bona nit, Eric” you said when you saw him on your screen wearing black thick frames, trying to impress him with one of the three Catalan phrases you know

“Bona nit, Y/N” Eric said while smiling “Did I wake you up?”

“No, I’m in bed reading something for tomorrow’s class but I saw a bit of the game, though, you guys did well” you responded

“Yea, we did. No minutes today but hopefully some soon” Eric said while fixing his glasses

“Oh, I’m sure!” you said trying your best to be supportive “you’re the youngest defender, it’s normal, right?”

“Yea, exactly” he replied “but, anyway, I wanted to ask you if we can get together tomorrow night, if you’re not busy with school.”

“I have some things to do for a class, but I can take care of it and we can meet up, not a problem. I want to see you, I miss your face, so much!” you said raising your voice in excitement. You really were craving to hold him and have his scent nearby when you’re close. You had fallen hard for Eric. Every time you met in person, you felt like fireworks were going off around you, you talked and laughed, and couldn’t keep your hands off each other. You were always looking forward to seeing him, hearing his cute Spanish sounding Catalan accent in person and taking off his thick nerdy glasses to make out with him. You made out everywhere there wasn’t a lot of people, and made love constantly. The chemistry was undeniable. 

“Great! And I miss you too, baby! We’ll fly first thing in the morning, go in for a recovery training, and then I will go home. I want you to come over to my flat, I have some big news that I want to share” he finished saying as he was grinning.

“Big news? Can’t you tell me now, please?” you pleaded

“I could, but I want to tell you in person, it’s important” 

 “Oh, is it something bad or…?” 

“No, it’s good.I think you will think it’s great.”

“Hope so!”

“I’m going to let you finish your work. I’m going to sleep, ok? Long day”

“Okay, sleep well, love”

“Good night, baby” he said as he blew a kiss for the camera, you blew one back.

“Night” you said as you waved to him through the video camera and he hung up.

What could it be? It made you anxious to know. Hopefully it was the news of a renewal, or a new contract with better salary or that his parents are moving to the UK. You had no idea.

You arrived at Eric’s apartment all dolled up in a dress, smelling of a soft perfume and subtle makeup. You let your hair down because you knew Eric loved to touch it and run his fingers through it when you were near each other. You rang the doorbell, and Eric immediately opened the door, you both said hello, he gave you a quick kiss, and let you in. Once in, he took your jacket off, and hung it for you, like a perfect gentleman, he turned around to face you and gave you a soft and small kiss that lingered on for a few moments as you felt your body melt with tenderness. When you opened your eyes as he pulled back, you smiled, he squeezed your arm and said  “I’ve missed you”. 

“And I’ve missed you” you replied. 

He had wine and tapas on his small dinner table waiting for you both, he took your hand and guided you to it, signaling for you to sit as he tells you to do ahead, to eat and drink because he made it for you. He pulls your chair closer to his before you sit down, and pats it so you'll sit.

“So, how’s uni?” he asked while sitting down and reaching to grab some of the tapas “It’s fine, but, are you going to tell me what’s going on?” you asked, while sipping a bit of wine, you were desperate to know and couldn’t do any more small talk. “The big news?”

“Yes, Eric, the big news, Can you just tell me? It’s driving me crazy” you said, truly feeling anxious. “Ok, so,” replied Eric“ my agent called me last night and told me Barcelona wants to sign me!”

“Oh! WOW! Fc Barcelona? That’s huge! Congrats” you said as you clapped with excitement

“Yes, I’m so happy! Of course, I told him to make the move happen. I’m going back home this summer, playing for the best club in the world!”

“Oh!” 

Your heart sank. Barcelona, this summer? You thought. How is that supposed to work out? You were so excited for Eric you hadn’t thought about the fact that he would not be around anymore. Your relationship was going well and you had fallen for each other but it wasn’t a super serious one yet, certainly not a moving in together in another country serious. You felt flustered and hot, your heart was racing and your chest was burning. You drank the rest of your wine. Eric was staring at you, noticing how your body language changed and how fast you were drinking while you were lacking a vocal response. He had some wine too. 

“Hey,” Eric said as he traced your jaw line with his finger “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking…I’m thinking…that I’m going to miss you a lot. And that I’m happy for you. I know it was your dream growing up, playing in the Barça academy, to play for the first team,” you said as you refilled your wine glass and then raised it “so, cheers, darling!’ and you drank half your glass in one gulp. You wanted to cry.

“Miss me?” asked Eric as he pulled you in and gave you a kiss on the cheek “Why would you miss me if you’re in Barcelona too?”

“What are you talking about? I’m working in the summer, I can’t go on vacation to Barcelona with you, I can’t afford it, plus what is the point of it? We’re going to be so far away from each other afterward, it’s not going to work, is it?” you felt like you might burst into tears

“Y/N. I’ve been thinking about this since I hung up with my agent. I’m going to Barcelona and I want you to come too. I love you and I need you to come. And not just the summer, I mean, permanently. I really thought about it, kept me up last night, and it’s fine if we both agree that moving in together right now is a little much but I’ll get you your own place, your own apartment. No pressure.  I’ll get my family to help us with the whole university situation, to get you transferred. You can get a part-time job, or focus on studying, you don’t have to worry about money. Whatever you want. I’ll help you. I just want you to know that I’m not leaving you here, in Manchester. There’s no chance of that happening. I don’t want us to be apart more than we already have to. I’m not letting you go” said Eric in a rant, he sighed and asked, “ Is that okay?”

“Are you serious?” you asked back, in shock

“Totalment, amor meu” said Eric “ Playing for Barcelona, I will be able to afford it and I’m not taking no for an answer”  

“This is a lot to process” 

“I know, I’ve been thinking about this all day, but, Do you love me?”

“You know I do, Eric” 

“Then, that’s all we need. We’ll make it work. Please, say yes” he begged as put a strand of your hair behind your ear.

You felt so overwhelmed by everything that had been said but you couldn’t deny that you were head over heels for Eric, you wanted to be with him, plus he just said one of the most romantic things you’ve ever heard. Although you were skeptical about how everything was going to work you couldn’t find a reason to say no, you were in love, it made you hopeful and you felt you could trust him. “Okay,” you said as you shrugged “Let’s try it!” as a small giggle came out.

He kissed you right away, and said “Good! I was scared you might said no” as he put his lips on yours again “I’m so relieved” “I was afraid we were breaking up there for a second, I’m glad that didn’t happen ” you said putting your hands on your cheeks, blushing.

“That’s never happening. Come here!” he said and he pulled your body towards his, making you sit on top of him as you were facing him. You embraced each other in a kiss, he slowly deepened the kiss and slipped his tongue in your mouth with palpable desire. You responded with as much passion to kiss him back, then paused to kiss his face and neck, you let your lower lip feel his neck all the way up to his chin where you gave him a lick. He chuckled. You took off his glasses and went back to kiss him some more. You wanted him, you put your hands around his neck while he hung onto your waist. He had been thinking, fantasizing about being with you all week and he let it be known. “I couldn’t wait to get back,” he said as he put his hands underneath your dress to touch your ass, “I want you,Y/N, you have no idea”. He pulled you closer to him, making your legs spread wider. You grind on top of him while you kissed him, as you felt your hips crave for him, you could feel him growing under his pants. You softly moaned in his mouth while your tongue danced around with his, you pulled away to respond “Me too, all the time” catching your breath. Your heart now was quite agitated, you were quite turned on. “Let’s take this to the bedroom, yea?” he asked while kissing the cleavage your dress offered. “Si us plau” you responded while looking at that beautiful dark hair man kiss your tits, you remembered how to say please in Catalan. He looked up “Speaking Catalan already, beu? Maybe this move won’t be so hard”

You stood up, took off your dress, smiled, and walked towards the bedroom in your underwear saying a flirty “Maybe”

between us pt.1

pairing: eric garcia x torres!reader

summary: in which you fall for your brother's teammate

waarnings: none!

a/n: requested on my wattpad!

prev // next

five years ago, manchester was grey in a way that felt permanent.

it wasn’t just the sky. it was the pavements slick with rain, the low hum of traffic outside your flat, the way the wind cut through your coat no matter how tightly you wrapped it around yourself. you’d grown used to it, the dull ache of the weather matching the steady rhythm of your life.

back then, your world revolved around two things: your job and your brother.

your brother had just made his big move to man city, bright-eyed and determined, carrying valencia sunshine into the north of england. you’d moved with him, partly because you wanted the adventure, partly because you’d always been a little protective of him too — even if he’d never admit he needed it.

that was when you met eric.

eric wasn’t loud. he didn’t command rooms the way some of the other players did. the first time you saw him, he was sitting at your kitchen counter, sleeves pushed up, quietly laughing at something ferran had said.

“ah, finally,” ferran had grinned when you walked in. “this is my sister.”

eric had stood immediately.

polite. nervous. brown eyes soft and curious.

“hi,” he’d said, and there was something about the way he looked at you — not in a flirty way, not even bold — just attentive. like he was already listening.

you’d liked him instantly.

not in a dramatic, lightning-strike kind of way. it was slower than that. subtle. built in glances across the living room when ferran was mid-story. in late-night tea in the kitchen after matches. in the way eric always said your name carefully, like it mattered.

you never crossed a line.

maybe it was timing. maybe it was fear. maybe it was because you already had a boyfriend back then — a safe, predictable relationship that looked good on paper.

eric left manchester not long after. then ferran did too.

life shifted. seasons changed. calls became texts. texts became rare.

and then your world cracked open.

barcelona felt different from manchester.

the sun was almost aggressive, pouring over the city in warm gold sheets. the air smelled like salt and citrus instead of rain. you’d forgotten what light like this felt like.

you moved because you needed to breathe.

after you walked into your apartment in manchester and found your boyfriend tangled in sheets with someone who wasn’t you, something inside you went quiet. not dramatic. not hysterical.

just quiet.

you were packed in a week.

ferran didn’t hesitate. “come here,” he’d said over facetime, jaw tight in that way it got when he was angry but trying to stay calm. “you’re not staying there alone.”

so you didn’t.

now you were standing in el prat airport, sunglasses perched on your head, heart pounding as ferran waved at you from beyond security.

he crushed you in a hug that almost lifted you off your feet.

“i swear,” he muttered into your hair, “if i ever see him—”

“you won’t,” you laughed softly. “relax.”

but ferran didn’t relax. not really.

he watched you like you were fragile glass for the first few weeks. checking in constantly. asking where you were. offering to drive you everywhere.

it wasn't suffocating.

it was loving.

it was very ferran.

the first time you saw eric again, it wasn’t planned.

ferran had invited a few teammates over for dinner at his apartment.

you were carrying a bowl of salad to the table when the doorbell rang.

“i’ll get it!” ferran called.

you heard muffled greetings. familiar voices.

and then—

you knew that laugh.

soft. breathier than you remembered.

your stomach dropped.

ferran stepped back into the dining area with two guys behind him.

and there he was.

eric.

he looked older. broader shoulders. more defined jaw. his hair slightly shorter. but his eyes — they were exactly the same.

they found you instantly.

for a second, the room faded.

“hey,” he said, almost disbelieving. “you’re here.”

you swallowed. “hi, eric.”

there was a beat too long. a history unspoken.

ferran glanced between you. “you two remember each other, obviously.”

“of course,” eric replied, a small smile tugging at his mouth. “manchester.”

manchester.

it sounded like another lifetime.

it started innocently.

it always does.

eric lingered after dinners. he volunteered to help you clear plates. he asked about your move, about how you were adjusting, about whether barcelona felt like home yet.

you found yourself opening up to him in ways you hadn’t expected.

one night, a few weeks after that first reunion, you were sitting on the balcony alone. the city hummed below, warm air brushing your skin.

you didn’t hear the sliding door open.

“couldn’t sleep?” eric asked gently.

you didn’t jump this time. you’d started to recognize his footsteps.

“needed water,” you lied.

he leaned on the railing beside you, close but not touching.

“i heard what happened,” he said quietly.

of course he had.

your throat tightened. “it’s fine.”

“it’s not.”

you looked at him then. really looked.

there was no pity in his expression. just anger - the protective kind. controlled.

“he didn’t deserve you,” eric said.

it shouldn’t have hit you the way it did. but something about the certainty in his voice cracked the careful composure you’d been holding together for months.

your eyes burned.

eric panicked slightly. “i didn’t mean— i just—”

“no,” you whispered. “thank you.”

silence settled between you, thick but not uncomfortable.

“i thought about you sometimes,” he admitted suddenly.

your heart stuttered.

“after,” he clarified. “when i left. i wondered how you were. if you were happy.”

you exhaled shakily. “i wasn’t.”

he nodded, jaw tightening again.

“i would’ve…” he hesitated. “i would’ve done things differently.”

“eric,” you said softly, because you could see it — the what-ifs swimming in his eyes.

“i liked you,” he finished anyway. “back then.”

the world narrowed to just him.

you felt it — that old spark, no longer subtle. stronger now. older. no longer hidden behind bad timing and politeness.

“i liked you too,” you confessed.

the city seemed to hold its breath.

he stepped closer.

not touching. not yet.

“if ferran knew i was saying this—”

“he’d kill you.”

eric huffed a quiet laugh. “yeah.”

“but he doesn’t,” you murmured.

your hands brushed when you both reached for the railing.

electric.

he looked at you like you were something breakable and precious all at once.

“can i?” he asked softly.

you didn’t make him clarify.

you nodded.

the kiss wasn’t rushed. it wasn’t desperate.

it was careful.

like he’d waited five years and didn’t want to ruin it.

his hand cupped your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek. you felt warmth bloom under your skin, spreading down to your fingertips.

when you pulled back, you were breathless.

“this is a bad idea,” you whispered.

“probably.”

“ferran will actually murder you.”

“oh definitely.”

you smiled despite yourself.

eric rested his forehead against yours.

“i don’t care,” he said quietly. “i’m not letting you go again.”

pequeñita

pairing: eric garcia x reader

summary: in which eric teases you for being short

warnings: none!

a/n: so im also like only 5 foot as well... :)

"¿otra vez?" eric leaned against the kitchen counter, one brow raised, watching you do the little jump-reach-hop combo you'd perfected. "cariño, just admit the shelves are taller than you."

you huffed, still on your tiptoes. "or maybe the shelves are just stupidly high. who even puts cereal up there?"

he chuckled and walked over, grabbing the box effortlessly and holding it... just out of reach. of course.

"eric." you gave him a look.

"say por favor, guapo," he said with a grin, dimple showing. "with feeling."

you narrowed your eyes. "por favor, guapo... ridículo."

"oof." he laughed and finally handed it over. "insulting your personal cereal delivery service? bold move, pequeñita."

you took the box and tried not to smile too obviously at the nickname. "pequeñita, seriously?"

"it’s accurate. you’re like… fun-sized." he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you against him, resting his chin on your head. "perfect height to fit right here."

"you’re only tall because everyone else on the national team is taller," you mumbled into his hoodie.

he gasped, hand on his heart. "¡qué falta de respeto! that’s it. no cereal for you ever again."

you reached up and squished his cheeks. "you wouldn’t survive without me."

he grinned with your hands still smooshing his face. "you’re right. i need you to reach the bottom shelf for me."

you laughed, and he kissed your nose before letting you go.

"let’s get you a step stool," he said. "or maybe i’ll just carry you everywhere like a royal baby."

"only if you wear a crown."

he winked. "already do. invisible. comes with being your taller, superior boyfriend."

you rolled your eyes, but he saw the smile you tried to hide as you turned away.