Barcelona FC Players X Y/N

|Not My Type| - Héctor {Part 1}

You were sitting in your room, bored, as your twin brother, Pau Prim,  had his friends/teammates over and he specifically told you not disturb them. But you being you,  you felt a little rebellious so you decide to go down and say hi.

You silently open your bedroom door and creep down the stairs and the corridor outside the living room, where the boys were. You could hear them all, shouting at the tv. The door was already slightly ajar, so you carefully pushed it, trying not to bring attention to yourself. Once there was a gap big enough for you to slide through, you entered the room...

You were engulfed in a heavy blanket of strong, expensive aftershave. Luckily, no one had clocked onto you being in the room, as the sofa was just in front of the door. You tiptoed behind  your brother who was intensely staring at their FIFA match on the tv.  

"Boo!" You yell, putting his hands on his shoulders. 

"Agh! He jumped pausing the game, then turning to look at you giving you an angry glare. "¿Y/n qué estás haciendo? ¡Te dije que no nos molestaras! (Y/n what are you doing? I told you not to bother us!)"  Pau snapped.

"¿Por qué no se me permite estar aquí, también es mi casa? (Why am I not allowed to be here, it's my house too!)" You argued with a pout. "¿Qué es lo peor que podría hacer? (What's the worst thing I could do?)"

"¡No te quiero cerca de mis amigos! (I don't want you near my friends!)" He exclaimed, crossing his arms.

"¡Eso es patético! (That's pathetic!)" You laugh, "¿Crees que te robaría a tus amigos o me los follaría? ¿Es eso lo que piensas? (You think I'd steal your friends from you or fuck them? Is that what you think?)" 

"Sí, sobre todo la segunda opción. (Yes, especially the second option.)" He replied, turning away from you, unpausing the game.

¡Uau! Mis estándares no son tan bajos. ¡Ni siquiera son mi tipo! (Wow! My standards aren't that low. They're not even my type) " You teased gazing over at them as you sat down in a spare spot by Pau. You recognised them from going to Pau's game. There was Marc Guiu, messy brunette hair, very tall, soft light brown eyes, two diamond earrings and a silver necklace dangling from his neck. Lamine Yamal, tight curly black hair, average height, dark brown eyes, braces locked onto his perfectly white teeth. Last but not least, Héctor Fort. Now, you know that you said none of them were your type but deep down you knew that was the biggest lie that you've ever told. He was just your type!

You were way too shy to ever talk to him so whenever you were at Pau's games, you couldn't help but stare at Héctor. If he'd ever glance over in your direction, your heart would melt and you'd quickly remove your heavy gaze from him onto your brother Pau or at your phone. Who could blame you, he was gorgeous. Those chestnut brown eyes, that you wanted to get lost in. Those plump, cupid bow lips, that you wanted to kiss. And not to mention, those loose black loose perm, that you wanted to run your hands through. You were sat opposite him, admiring him, as his was concentrating on the game. All of a sudden he looks over at you, catching you red handed.

 "¿Quieres jugar? (Want to play?)" He quizzed, looking straight into your eyes, making you want to faint. 'Is this a dream?' you thought

"No, está bien, no soy muy bueno en FIFA. (No, it's okay, I'm not very good at FIFA.)" You sheepishly blush, averting your eyes from his.

[-Time Skip-]

Its now almost 12am, you're in your bed, struggling to sleep. Héctor was on your mind, again! That little interaction with him was making you smile like crazy! 'He spoke to me! ' You say to yourself, 'How is this guy so perfect, I could listen to his voice for hours non stop.'

You finally drift off into a deep sleep about Héctor, of course.