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monzabee · 3 months ago

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the smallest man who ever lived - cl16

masterlist || part 2 || part 3 ||

Summary: The one where you’re thrown into a conundrum when you learn the news of your husband, Charles’, infidelity.

Pairing: charles leclerc x wife!reader; carlos sainz x reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: angst, cheating, crying, manipulation(?), charles is an absolute asshole (but so is the reader) (but she’s kinda also badass?) (toxic relationship?), even more assholish carlos (gasp), blackmail, mention of pregnancy, mention of sex and sexual acts, physical confrontation (literally just pushing someone off but still)

Request: “Hey girl can I request something angsty with Charles? Maybe Charles cheating on Y/N (we’re already famous and have been married to Charles for years) and the fighting, the finding out, his guilt, angst, etc.”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! thank you to the anon who requested this because i had the time of my life working on it, and it might be the first fic i wrote in one go for the last six months or so!! also thank you to the getting cheated on playlists i found on spotify and amy dunne for giving me the inspiration to make the reader as toxic as i could. special thanks to @norrisleclercf1 and @percervall who had to listen to me talk about this fic NONSTOP. this is definitely something very different to what i usually write, but i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

There are moments in life where you feel like a complete and utter idiot. Although it could be for no apparent reason at all, there is a perfectly explainable reason why you feel like that right now, in the middle of your trailer on the set, with your manager and publicist both looking at you like you could explode at any given moment. It took you a good amount of time to wrap your head around the news, the news that wrecked you into a million of pieces which left you as the only person who can put them back together.

“Let me get this straight,” you start, still trying to wrap your head around the news, “they were photographed leaving the club, and there’s a–?”

“Sex tape, yes.” Your manager mumbles, earning himself a side-eye from your publicist. “It was so kindly attached to the email.”

“And it is anonymous?” You ask, earning curt nods from both. “Well,” you manage to get out, pressing your lips together not to let out a sob, or a laugh, both? “That is very ambitious of him.”

Your publicist shares a concerned look with your manager, then turns to you, “I guess so? How would you want us to handle this? I can buy us some time until these are released to public, but I think getting a statement ready just in case is essential given the fact that both of you are public figues. We can say that you’ll attend marriage councelling–”

Your loud laugter cuts her off in the middle of her sentence. “And just why would we do that?”

“I–” She gives you another concerned look as she softens her voice, which is quite uncharacteristic for her, you realise. “How would you want us to approach it then?”

“I don’t want you to approach it at all.” You voice cuts through the tension, your gaze fixed on her. “I’ll handle it.”

“But Charles–” She tries to reason, but you cut her off again.

“Decided to get his dick wet where it certainly didn’t belong, he’s a big boy – he’ll survive.” Fixing her with a final look, you turn to your manager instead. “I don’t want this going to Charles or his team’s ears, that’s what the email said, and we should honour it, no?”

His expression turns into a smirk, matching the one playing on your lips as he nods in thougt, “Would you like us to do anything else? We can talk with the production if you need a couple of days to… well, recuperate. Greta would understand.”

“No.” Your answer is final as you shake your head. “She thinks this is an Oscar worthy project, I’m not throwing it away because my husband decided to think with his dick and not his brain. Just call my lawyers and tell them to be on stand by.”

“Should I also book you tickets to Monaco still?” He asks in a monotone tone.

“Well of course,” you reply in a sweet voice, widening your eyes for dramatic effect, “it’s a family event.”

Your publicist eyes the both of you, “Okay,” as she drags the word out, “are you sure you don’t want to take a couple of days off?”

“Positive. I have an EGOT to win.” Raising the script you have in your hands in the air, you announce, “I have lines I need to go over, is that all?”

And as they leave your trailer to give you some space to ‘go over your lines’, you let a few tears escape your eyes, promising yourself that you would make Charles feel a thousand worse what he made you feel in the moment.

It is not surprising or a sudden revelation that Monte Carlo has good weather all year around. But as it happens with the last few weeks following you learning about your husband’s infidelity, all you feel is cold – and no amount of warm weather is enough to make your heart feel warmer again. As you stand at the terrace of Café de Paris, overlooking the cityscape of Monte Carlo, all you can think about is how you just want to get this part of you plan over with as fast as possible.

“Chérie!” The voice you hear makes a lump perpetually situate itself in the middle of your throat, but you brace yourself for the worst as you turn on your heels to face the person you’re most scared of facing in this whole situation. “Look at you, you look incroyable! You had me scared when you told me you were catching the redeye, and that we just had to talk!”

“Pascale,” you breathe out as the woman pulls you into her arms with the warmness of any mother would do, and for that brief moment, you feel better than you have in weeks. “It’s so nice to see you again,” giving her the warmest smile you can muster up in the circumstances as you pull back, fixing your gaze at the figure behind her as you nod your head in acknowledgement, “Arthur.”

“Maman is right,” Arthur says as he opens his arms, “you do look good.”

“Well, thank you.” You reply as you give him a quick hug, and motion the table as you pull back. “Shall we?” Call it common curtesy, or cowardice, the fact that you don’t directly get to the point. Either way, you talk about what you’ve missed in the couple of months in which you’ve been away filming. You’re not necessarily paying attention, though the endtail of Pascale’s sentence catch your attention. “Excuse me, can you repeat that?”

“Well, I was just telling how sad I was that Charles doesn’t come home as often this season. Though I understand he’s coming out to see you on set, distance can be so hard even for–”

“He’s not coming out to see me, Pascale.” You voice is softer, and appears more broken than you would want it to be, but your words convey the message enough. It takes you a couple of moments to organise your thoughts, and Arthur calling out your name, to get you back into the moment. “There’s something I need to talk with the both of you, something I’ve already talked with Lorenzo, but I thought it would be better for you to hear it from me.”

“Okay?” Arthur mumbles, then gives you a supportive smile, “You can tell us anything. Though don’t tell me I’m about to be an uncle because I don’t think my ego can take it at the–”

You attempt to swallow the lump in your throat as you direct your words to the woman sitting across from you. “I’m divorcing your son, and I thought you should hear it from me and not him.”

It takes a few minutes for both Pascale and Arthur to say something, and it concerns you that you somehow managed to give your mother in law a brain aneurism, but eventually, she manages to get out, “What? How? Why? Are you okay?”

“I’m… fine.” You reply, albeit it comes off calculated. “I found a couple of weeks ago that he was cheating on me, I’ve came back to give him the papers myself.”

“He what?” Arthur exclaims, then realises the level of his voice, and lowers it down as he asks, “Are you sure this is not a misunderstanding? The guy has been in love with you for over a decade, he wouldn’t do this.” With a resigning sigh, you find what you’re looking for in your phone and hand it over to Arthur. Who then, upon seeing what you have pulled up, immediately hands it back to you and turns to his mother, “Trust me you don’t want to see it.”

“I’ve came to tell you the news, and well, to apologise.” You turn to face Pascale again.

“Apologise?” She repeats, “Why on earth would you apologise to me when my son cheated on you?”

“You’ve been nothing but kind to me ever since we’ve met, both of you.” You acknowledge Arthur with a look, and then focus your attention back on the woman, “Though I will make sure you don’t get caught in the crossfire in any way, I wanted to apologise for what I’m about to put your son through.”

You honestly don’t know how you manage to act as if everything has been going fine in your life during race day. Given the fact that your husband doesn’t expect you to be at his race due to your rigorous filming schedule, and his family members being willing to hide your existence from him, you have no obstacles in your way to carry out the rest of your plan in motion. Which is exactly why you’re sat in the dark, waiting for your husband to walk through the doors of your apartment overlooking the city. With you seemingly being absent for the weekend, he has no reason to not believe that he is coming to an empty house.

So, imagine his surprise when he enters his home; with his girlfriend in his arm, no less, and sees his wife sitting on the couch with her legs crossed and a drink in her hand. The look on his face is priceless, and despite all the pain and frustration you’re feeling, it manages to bring you some semblance of joy, knowing that it’s going to hurt him just as much as it hurt you.

“Ma chérie,” Charles stammers, eye wide as he looks at you like a deer caught in headlights, “I – I didn’t know y–you were coming back this weekend.”

“Well obviously,” you scoff, taking a generous sip from the drink in the glass tumbler in your hand, “otherwise you wouldn’t bring your little girlfriend into my house to fuck her.” You hear a gasp from the scaredy brunette wedging herself closer to your husband’s side, and for the first time you take a good look at her – young, much younger than you, tall, leggy; all the telltale signs that she is exactly your husband’s type. Tilting your head to the side, you rest the glass on the arm of the armchair you’re sitting in, “If you could leave now, I would greatly appreciate it.”

You hear Charles whisper something in her ear, probably telling her to leave and that he’ll contact her tomorrow, and watch as she gives him a scowl, screeching, “You’re just going to let her throw me out?”

“Well, considering the fact that this is my house, yes.” You give her a look of pity, watching her face light up with anger.

“Listen to me, you bitch–” She starts, but your husband quickly cuts her off.

“Mon cœur!” He exclaims, “S'il te plaît!”

“Yes, listen to him, like a good little girl,” you egg her on, a smirk widening on your lips as you start swinging the leg resting on your lower one, choosing to focus on your nails instead of your husband trying to soothe his lover.

You hear her scoff, take a few steps as her heels click on the marble floor of the entrance, “I wouldn’t be so calm if I were you, I’m not someone you want to be on bad terms with, considering the fact that he’s going to leave you for me!”

“Oh, honey,” you coo, focusing your attention back on her and seeing the look of concern in your husband’s face through the corner of your eye, “and when did he tell you that, like a year ago? Two? Three?” A realisation dawns on her face as the smug expression starts to fade. “Don’t worry, though, you can have him when I’m done with him.” Pushing yourself off the armchair, you down the rest of the drink in the glass before slamming it down onto the glass coffee table. “And not only do I not care if you think I'm a bitch, but I hugely prefer it. Now get the fuck out of my house before I call security and get your ass thrown out.”

You watch as she looks at Charles with indignation, lets out another screeching sound and slams the door behind her as she stomps out of your apartment. Only then you turn your gaze back to your husband, who has the guts to look at you with a worried look on his face. “How long have you known?” Is the first thing he asks you, taking a few steps closer.

“A couple of weeks, a month, maybe?” You answer him, leaving your place to get to the small bar in the corner of your living room to get another refill of your drink. “There’s a video of the two, it somehow got into my hands, and it has very graphic details of the two of you having sex.” Popping a lemon into your cup, you make your way back to the armchair and sit down, “Are you stupid enough to cheat on me and make a fucking sex tape, Charles?”

“I-I didn’t mean to–” He tries to plead, but you cut him off with a shake of your head.

“You didn’t mean to what?” You ask him; your voice soothing, almost understanding, and it does the job of fooling him. “Cheat on me? Fuck another woman in my bed? Break the vows you’ve made?”

“Ma chérie,” he whispers, “please.”

“No.” Your voice is colder all of a sudden. “Tell me how long this has been going on for. Was I right? How many years?”

“It started five years ago,” his voice is soft, somber and he tries to appear as genuine as he can in the situation, you suppose, “but I knew her, from before...”

“Before what?” You’re seething now, the complete opposite of his calmness, “Did you fucking cheat me when we were dating, Charles?”

“Ma chérie,” he gives you another pleading look, “please, I can change. I’ll go to therapy.”

Now that, manages to get a bark of laughter from you. It’s ripped from the back of your throat, making you throw your head back as you lose yourself in the laughter to the point that there are tears in your eyes when you finally manage to calm yourself down. Putting the glass down on the coffee table once again, you wipe them off, mindful of your mascara, as you shift your attention back onto your husband. “Are fucking kidding me right now?” He gives you a concerned look, hands on his hips as he opens his mouth to answer you, but you quickly shut him down again. “You were bringing her into my house to fuck her, I caught you, I have your fucking sex tape – which is going to be streamlined for the world to see within twenty-four hours, do you honestly think I would go back to you?”

“Wait, what?” He exclaims, looking at you with wide eyes and a shocked expression. “What do you mean they are going to streamline it, why didn’t you go to the lawyers?

“I did go to the lawyers,” you shrug, innocently, “my lawyers,” you point out. “Why would I cover up your mistakes after everything you’ve done?”

“Because I’m your fucking husband!” He barks, his arms widening to his sides as he finally loses his mask and his composure.

His little tantrum only makes you let out another laugh, “Now, you’re my husband? Not when you’re cheating on me when I’m away shooting, but when you need me to clean up after your mistakes?”

“How did you even get the video?” He asks, eyes narrowing down, “Who- who– who?”

“Who? Who? Hoo? What are you, a fucking owl?” You exclaim, this time raising your voice. “You’re honestly more concerned about where I got it and not about the fact that the entire world is about to see you fucking someone other than your wife?”

“What are we doing to do?” He asks, “Fuck, I have a race tomorrow.”

“We’re not going to do anything.” You shrug, leaning forward to grab the glass and take another sip, “Or scratch that, we’re actually going to do something.” You stand up from the armchair, walk towards the table and hand him the file. “Congratulations, we’re getting a divorce.”

“That is not happening.” He scoffs, not even bothering to look at the papers.

“I don’t think you’re in the position to bargain with me, Charles.” You seethe, “You’re going to sign the damn papers, and you’re also going to sign away your rights to the baby.”

“What the–?” He looks at you in disbelief, “You’re pregnant?”

“Congratulations, it’s a boy.” You bite out, “Like you wanted.”

“You’ve been drinking the entire night.” He points to the glass, “Do you expect me to believe you’re pregnant?”

Offering him a sweet smile you hand him the glass, tipping it towards him, “It’s soda water, would you like a sip?”

“Don’t make me do this,” he pleads, “give me another chance.”

“I would’ve, if you were honest with me from the start.” You resign, a sincere look in your eyes. “I’ll give you a choice: us, or her.”

He rears back with the offer, looking at you in disbelief. “What?”

“You either choose me and the baby or you choose to be with her, and in that case, I will never let you near my baby, Charles.” You shake your head, wrapping your arms around your stomach protectively.

For a second, his eyes linger around your stomach. But you know his choice when he meets your eyes again.

“What have we done to each other?” He whispers, and you can barely see the tears in his eyes.

“We didn’t do anything, Charles. I gave up everything for you, but you just took me for granted.” Walking back to the dining table, you grab your coat and bag, and when you come face to face with him again, your voice is soft despite all the anger you still feel towards him. “You, Charles Leclerc, are truly the smallest man who ever lived.”

The hotel lobby is calm and empty as you sit at the bar, and it’s surprising when you consider that fact that it is the weekend of the Monaco Grand Prix, meaning that there must be hundreds and thousands of motorsports fans visiting. Not that you’re complaining about the silence, of course. After the night you’ve had, silence and calmness are all you could ask for.

“I’ll get a whiskey, please, whatever top shelf stuff you’ve got.” A voice cuts through the moment you are having, and you instantly recognise the distinct accent of the stranger sitting next to you. “Thought you were in the States, finishing off filming.” This time, the comment is directed to you, and you roll your eyes as you push the empty glass towards the bartender on duty.

With a sigh, you turn to the man on your right, “What do you want, Carlos?” Your voice conveys your lack of energy, and Carlos is not dumb enough not to notice the dark circles under your eyes beneath your makeup.

“I came to check on you.” Is his answer. Simple, curt and to the point. You’d certainly appreciate it more if you had the patience for his antics.

“Well, you did, have a good night.” Slamming down a hundred-Euro bill onto the counter, you make a move to get up from your place, but a gentle hand on your wrist stops you. “Let me go.”

Though there is no venom to your voice, Carlos knows that it is not the time, nor the place, to test your patience. “I’m sorry,” he starts and when you take a good look at him, you can tell that he’s being sincere, “I really did want to check up on you, and considering the fact that you have a perfectly good penthouse but instead in a hotel, I think I was right to do so.”

Crossing your arms across your chest as you get back onto the barstool with a huff, you glare at him lightheartedly, “I didn’t want to stay in the same house as him,” raising your eyebrows, you continue with a lower voice, “thanks to [email protected], but I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.” The way his cheeks redden under the dim lights of the lobby bar would make you chuckle under normal circumstances, but you push the thought aside, “Honestly, what were you thinking? You’re lucky it was me who realised it was you, if it was my agent or publicist, we’d have another scandal to deal with.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he brushes you off with a swat of his hand, “I’m sorry I put you into that position.”

“Don’t be,” you mumble, tilting your head to the side, “I wouldn’t have known if you hadn’t sent me the video. Just tell me why you did it.”

“What?” He turns you with a confused look on his face.

“Why, Carlos?” You ask, voice encouraging yet soft, “Why did you send it? Why now?”

He keeps quiet for a while, not answering your questions but not taking his gaze off you either. Eventually, he exhales a deep sigh as he gives you a sheepish shrug, “I didn’t like the way he treated you. And I didn’t want to make you worry about it without concrete proof, so I guess everything just... worked out.”

“Huh,” you let out a small hum in agreement, “I guess you’re right.”

Expecting more than the words you chose to answer him with, he raises an eyebrow as he takes a big gulp of whiskey from his glass. “That’s it?”

“Well, what more is it there to say?” You ask, sheepishly shrugging. “We’re getting a divorce; he’s going to move out and I’m gonna make sure the entire world knows just why.”

Carlos flags down the bartender as he mumbles, “I feel like you need a stronger drink if we’re going to talk about your impending divorce, cariño.”

Taking a deep breath and exhaling an even deeper sigh, you shake your head. “I can’t.” Thank God Carlos is one of the people who is the proud owner of a braincell around you, because he catches your insinuation quickly.

With widened eyes, he quickly turns towards you, eyes softening as you offer him a sad smile. “Dios mío,” he murmurs, eyes running over you worriedly, “are you okay?”

“Well... no.” You let out an unexpected laugh at his expression, patting him on the shoulder lightheartedly. “I’ll be fine, Carlos, I’m a big girl. I can handle this.”

“I know you will,” he assures you, “but does Charles know?”

Now that manages to bring a grimace to your face. “He signed his parental rights away along with the divorce papers.” The look he gives you after hearing your words has you worried that his eyes are going to pop out of their sockets, but you try to calm him down as best as you can. “Carlos, it’s fine.”

“It’s most certainly not!” He exclaims, his voice echoing in the almost empty hotel lobby. “Is he out of his mind?”

You give him an awkward smile and another shrug of your shoulders. "I... feel like whatever I’m going to say is going to be wrong. So... yes?”

“Cariño,” he says, exasperated, “how are you so normal about this?”

“Lots of women raise their kids as single mothers while working, Carlos.” Your expression quickly taking the form of a frown, “I can handle this, I don’t need Charles or anyone else to hold my hand and tell me I’m doing such a good job.”

“I know you can do this alone, tonta,” he rolls his eyes as the endearment making you roll your eyes, “but you’re not going to be alone. Because I’m here.” There’s a certain finality to his words. And just as you’re about to object to his words, he quickly shuts you down. “I know you can do this on your own, but you don’t have to, okay? I’m going to be with you every step of the way.”

“What if I need waffles in the middle of the night?” You ask, your eyebrow raised in a skeptical way.

“I’ll adjust my pancake recipe.” His reply his immediate, and he shrugs lightly as he adds, “Pancakes are better, anyway.”

Rolling your eyes you continue, “What if I need someone to hold my hand in the delivery room? It can get quite gruesome, you know?”

He provides you with another nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. “I’ve never really been affected by it.”

“Okay, this is ridiculous, Carlos!” You exclaim, pushing yourself off your seat as you turn your body to face him. “I don’t need you to bail me out, I don’t need your help!”

“I know you don’t,” he nods.

“I am capable of doing this on my own!” You shriek, and the fact that your face is starting to get progressively redder worries Carlos.

“I know you are, but–” he tries to reason.

“No buts! I’m going to be a good mother, okay?” You point an accusatory finger towards him. “I’m going to choose him!”

The way your voice breaks at the end of your sentence has Carlos instinctively pull you into his arms, which is not that hard given the fact that you are almost the same height as him as you stand in front of the bar stool he’s sitting on, and he doesn’t say a word as you sob into his chest – letting out all the emotion you’ve bottled up over the past few weeks, no less. He doesn’t you offer you empty promises or tries to soothe you with cliché phrases. Instead, he stands still, holding you between his arms as you sob continuously into his chest. Giving the bar tender an awkward smile over your shoulder, he hands him his card to close out your tabs.

He only starts talking again once you’ve pulled away and trying to wipe the remnants of your tears from under your eyes. “Do you feel better now?” He asks, handing you a napkin.

“Yeah,” you mumble, sniffing as you play with the corners of the napkin. Then, you flip your eyes toward his, and fix him with a glare. “You are not becoming my kid’s stepdad.”

“Of course not, cariño,” he assures you, “I’ll be the dad that stepped up instead.”

You let out a teary chuckle as you slap him lightly on his chest. “I’m serious, Carlos.”

“So am I.” He replies softly, and you can see the genuine look on his face. “You’re not alone anymore, I’m choosing you.” Tentatively, he presses his hand softly against your stomach as he maintains your gaze. “Both of you.”

And though the last thing you want is a promise, this one seems like a real one. So, you let yourself believe that he might just keep it up.

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erwinsvow · 8 months ago

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An idea popped into my head that I feel you would write very well!

Rafe x virgin!reader. They are having a pretty heavy make out sesh, he slips his hand into her pants and then she just blurts it out? Like, "I'm a virgin," and she's like terrified. But rafe doesn't mind at all.

(also, is the 🪩 taken.)

oh my goodness!! I’m obsessed with this. no it is not taken omg welcome to the club!!!!!!!!!! ty so much for requesting 😚😚😚😚

your night with rafe had gone as perfect as any night could have, dinner by the beach, watching the sun go down while you ate dessert, and then heading back to tannyhill with him for the night, like you always did.

your nights with rafe always ended the same day, crawling into bed wearing one of his big shirts and then making out until you were soaking through your panties and rafe was hard beneath you. you're sure that rafe might have guessed you're a virgin by now, from the way everything he does is so new to your body, reacting primally to every touch. the two of you fall asleep like that, and you feel tingly from your head to your toes, waiting for rafe to say something about going further.

you're sure he would. there's no doubt in your mind that he's ready to, and he's probably done this with a million girls before you-a thought that makes you want to cry, but you put that aside. you're rafe's now, and you know that giving him your virginity is part of the deal. you're not sure just when that'll be, since he has you in your panties nearly every night.

maybe it'd be tonight. when the two of you get back to his room, you head for his dresser immediately to pull out a shirt, but rafe pushes you against the door. he leans down into a deep kiss, and you let it progress, hands snaking into his hair while he holds your waist tightly, his own hands running up and down the soft material of your sundress.

it's a little uncomfortable against the door like this, but rafe eases you up immediately, your legs wrapping around him while he pins you in place. you don't mean to start moving your hips, grinding down against him, it's just instinct, chasing that toe-curling feeling that you haven't been able to feel with rafe yet. his hands snake further down to the hem of your dress, and then slide underneath the material to the smooth skin of your legs.

rafe's hands keep traveling, gripping your thighs while he keeps you locked in a kiss that has you feeling dizzy, would have your knees weak if he wasn't holding you up. his tongue pokes into your mouth, and you moan around it, not even wanting to pull away to breathe.

you have to, though. rafe's hands are at the waistband of your panties, and just as he starts to grope, finding where he can yank them down so he can finally do what he wants to you, you pull away, hands resting flat on his chest.

he likes you like this--hair disheveled, lips red and swollen, the strap of your dress hanging off your shoulder. he leans in, pressing a kiss to your shoulder and then your collar, then up your neck.

"rafe," you whine, but it's easy to let him keep going. "we should stop-"

his eyes dart up to meet yours, pulling his face away from your neck.

"why would i do that, hm?" he kisses you again, but you turn your head away. "finally got you where i want you."

"i-well, i'm a virgin, rafe." it falls out of your mouth, even though you've spent countless hours thinking about the best way to tell him. you've thought everything through, how to say it, how to reply based on his response, how to deal with the embarrassment you're sure to feel.

"yeah?" he questions, pulling away to look at you in the eyes. still pushed against the wall, you can feel his hard dick pressed against you. the two of you don't move an inch, besides for the nodding of your head to answer his question.

"so, no one else has ever touched you where m'touching you?"

you shake your head.

"and no one's ever seen you like this?"

you shake again, feeling your eyes get watery.

"i'm sorry-"

"why're you saying sorry? told you to stop doin' that."

"because... because it's embarrassing."

"says who? hm?"

"says everyone. right?"

"no, kid. not me. you want me to stop?" your body melts into his grip. you shake your head again. "good girl. c'mon, get on the bed. not taking your virginity against this door."

#THIS WAS SOO FUN!!! <333 #pls come again!!!! lmk if you liked it???#📮 asks #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #🪩 anon

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fum1ku · 5 months ago

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LOVE TROPES - HQ BOYS

ft. osamu miya, daichi sawamura, kei tsukishima, keishin ukai, atsumu miya

should i be working on the highly requested pt. 2 to my recent works that’s currently sitting in my drafts? yes. should i also probably be working on the few requests i’ve got in my inbox? also yes. am i still over here writing whatever this is instead of doing those things? absolutely. at least i’m writing something!

OSAMU: friends to lovers.

you had been friends with the miya twins since high school. you had always butt heads with atsumu; bickering back and forth about anything and everything. but it was different with osamu. it felt like you both understood each other, in a way. plus the mutual dislike you both had for atsumu definitely helped. and now, nearly 8 years later, your friendship was still going strong.

well past 8pm, you stood over the front counter at onigiri miya with samu cleaning behind the counter for closing, and atsumu sitting at a stool next to you.

“i don’t know what his problem is! we go out for drinks one night, wind up at his place, and then the next day he can’t even be bothered to send me a single fucking text. seriously. i’m done!” you were going on about your.. most recent boyfriend.

“why don’tcha just dump him then?” atsumu offered, his mouth full of the onigiri osamu had made for him.

“atsumu, you’re disgusting! and i can’t because we aren’t even a thing! which is good—i don’t want us to be.”

osamu laughed at you two from behind the counter.

“okay well then what’s the problem! i don’t understand you women,” atsumu exclaimed, licking off the last bits of onigiri form his fingertips and shoving his plate behind the counter. “i’ve got practice tomorrow. so i’m gone. some of us actually have real problems that aren’t centered around one night stands with guys!”

“oh right, atsumu, like your sex life is any better,” you muttered. the door slammed shut behind him as the bell above the door exhibierst through the building.

you sighed, sinking further into your chair.

“here,” osamu slid a plate towards you. “might make ‘ya feel better. plus i need feedback to see if it’s worth addin’ to the menu.”

you smiled. “thanks, osamu. and yeah, i’ll give good feedback, promise!”

osamu smiled to himself as he wiped down the back counter. yeah, sure, after 8 years of pining he was no closer to asking you out. but, no matter what, he’d always be here to make you food whenever another boy made you cry.

DAICHI: love at first sight.

it had been a long practice and daichi had decided to treat everyone to a snack down at sakanoshita. daichi stood with suga and asahi waiting for the 1st and 2nd years to finish grabbing their fill. tanaka and noya had seen daichi paying as an opportunity to grab whatever they wanted.

“c’mon you guys!” suga yelled from across the store. “we don’t have all day!”

it has been a long day of classes for you, so it wasn’t even an option in your mind whether you should stop at the convenience store or not. only now you had found yourself in your own little debate.

“milk tea.. or coffee?” you mumbled to yourself. you were bent down over the drinks section taking your sweet time.

daichi turned around to see you and knew he was gone right then and there.

suga scoffed at the two 2nd years taking their time, only to turn back and find daichi’s gaze focused on you.

“hey, daichi, maybe we should—” he started, but stopped as soon as he noticed daichi staring. he whispered to asahi and they both began berating their poor captain.

“c’mon, dude! why don’t you just go talk to them? we obviously have the time!” suga nudged at his arm.

daichi denied anything. “hey, i don’t even now what you’re talking about, suga! we’re here for snack for the team, just go focus on that.”

“hey, don’t we go to school with them? y/n l/n. class 2, i think,” asahi piped up. he couldn’t remember where exactly he knew you from, though.

daichi was sure if he had gone to school with you, he’d remember.

“they’re in photography club! that’s how i know them! they asked me to join after i dropped out of volleyball,” asahi recalled, loud enough to grab your attention.

you looked up to find the set of 3rd years staring in your direction. your drink in hand, you made your way up to them.

“azumane, right? nice to see you again!” you beamed.

“y-yeah, right! good to see you too, l/n,” he smiled, nervously.

“are you guys in line?” you questioned.

“no—no we’re not! sorry about that!” daichi apologized, moving to the side to allow you to get to the register.

you placed your drink on the counter, making small talk with the guy at the front register.

“c’mon, daichi! if you don’t ask them before they leave you might not get to again!” suga whispered.

“suga, let it go. it’s too strange—they don’t even know me.”

suga shoved daichi forward just as you turned around to make your way towards the door.

“oh! hi!” you mused.

“s-sorry. hi.. again.”

“sawamura, right? you’re the captains of the volleyball team!” you smiled.

“yeah, i am. and you’re l/n, right? asahi was telling me about you. you’re in photography.

“i am, actually! and please, just call me y/n!”

“then just call me daichi!”

first name basis after 10 minutes? way to go daichi!

“actually..” you started. “i was wondering if it’d be possible for me to take some action shots of the volleyball team? i was going to use them for an upcoming project of mine. of course if not, that’s okay too! you probably need to talk it over with the team.”

“yeah—absolutely! i’ll have to talk it over with everyone, but i don’t see it being a problem at all,” he said, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “what class are you in? i can talk to you some time next week to figure out what day would work best.”

“here,” you said, turning around to the man behind the counter. “excuse me, do you have a pen i could borrow?”

the man tossed you a pen, not giving a second look to you from behind his magazine. you pulled out daichi’s arm and started scribbling down numbers.

your.. phone number?

“now you can call me, that’ll be easier!” you smiled. “anyways, i gotta run. see you later, daichi. tell azumane i said bye too!”

he was speechless. did he really manage to get your number without even trying?

suga ran up behind him. “dude! how? you hardly said anything to them!”

“wow, daichi’s got skills with the ladies!” tanaka mused, noya trailing behind them. their arms were stacked full with all kinds of snacks.

he was definitely not paying for all of those.

KEI: academic rivals to lovers.

you worked at the library at the university you attended. tsukishima had seen you around campus a few times. yamaguchi would go as far as to describe you as tsukishima’s “campus crush”—which tsukki of course denied. he hardly even knew you.

but, this semester is when things finally got interesting. you had wound up taking the course tsukishima was the TA for.

you were currently bent down behind a bookshelf in the campus library, organizing the books that needed to be put away. you noticed a hand grab a book off your cart.

you stood up. “anything you need help finding?”

“no,” the man stated, blankly.

you examined the book in his hand. “wait. are you in psych 301? haven’t seen you in there before.”

“kei tsukishima. i’m the assistant in that class this semester.”

“oh! i’m y/n l/n. are you reading that book for fun then, or?”

“i know. i graded your last essay. something about the human consciousness or whatever,” he stated, pushing his glasses to the bridge of his nose.

your face went hot. “oh? so you were the one that gave me a B- on that. that was the best paper i’ve written all semester!”

“yeah, only because you can’t write any better ones. and maybe actually read the syllabus before you join the class,” he deadpanned.

“okay, mr. know-it-all. and for what it’s worth, i did in fact read the syllabus.”

“well if you actually paid attention, then you’d know this book was meant to be read alongside the other materials.”

wait. what?

before you could say another word, he placed the book back down in the cart. “my email is on the syllabus if you’d actually care to read it. good luck actually passing the class.”

you were so going to find that syllabus. and you were definitely doing to pass that class.

KEISHIN: second chance.

stepping foot into sakanoshita after years felt like a dream. but seeing keishin, your high school boyfriend, sitting there behind the counter, was what really sent you back.

“keishin?”

ukai actually took the time to look up form his magazine, and he was glad he did. “y/n?”

“keishin!” you smiled. “i didn’t realize you family still owned the place!”

he stood up form his seat behind the counter. “yeah! work here part-time, coach volleyball the other half.

“you coach volleyball? does the old ukai not coach anyone then?”

“nah, old man retired last year. still coaches a few younger kids on the side. but, hey, how have you been? it’s been years since i last saw you in miyagi. 4? 5, maybe?”

“yeah,” you sighed. “it’s definitely been awhile. but life has been great in tokyo. my internship finally ended and so i’m back here for the next month or two!”

“really? you got to let me take you out sometime—drinks, to celebrate.”

you felt the slight rush of heat to your cheeks. “r-right! of course!”

“hey, if you wanted, we close in less than an hour. you could wait here till then, catch up, then let me take you out for drinks.”

“alright,” you smiled, taking a seat behind the counter next to ukai. “tell me about your team then. where do you coach? karasuno?”

you felt like you were 16 all over again. just him and you.

ATSUMU: opposites attract.

you were the promotional manager for the msby black jackals. everyone on the team loved you—yes, even sakusa. though he wouldn’t admit it. but, atsumu being the sly guy he is, took every opportunity to flirt with you. of course, keeping things professional, you shut him down every chance you got. plus, it would never work. ever. you knew that.

he was childish, you were mature—top of your office only a few months in. he was selfish half the time, and he’d always describe you as one of the most thoughtful people he’s ever met. he was confident and bold. you were quiet and reserved, at least time him. so when you find yourself alone with him at the gym one night late after practice, going through your binder of advertising ideas, you didn’t know what to make of it. the way you could feel he eyes focused on you and only you drove you insane.

you finally took a break form your rant about new promotional ideas for the team, leaving a heavy silence between the two of you.

“y/n?” he finally said, breaking for silence.

“yeah, atsumu?” you respond, not looking up form your binder.

“you should let me take ‘ya out. i mean it.”

you quietly gasped to yourself.

sure, atsumu had made pass after pass at you every day for the last few months since you started working with the team. but, this time, he sounded so.. genuine.

what’s even worse is you couldn’t help yourself from the words the escape your lips in the last moment.

“okay.”

⁂ taglist: @chloiyoomi @eashn + let me know if you want to be added! 💌

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steddieas-shegoes · 4 months ago

Text

pop goes metal

for @corrodedcoffinfest prompt 'alternate universe'

rated t | 964 words | cw: language | tags: famous corroded coffin, pop star steve harrington, flirting, getting together

🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤

"No fuckin' way are we working with him," Eddie argues with their manager. "You're always so worried about our image and then you go and have us doing a song with a fuckin' pop artist?"

The manager, Anthony, rolls his eyes. "It'll broaden your fanbase. You know who spends money on shit? Women. You know who likes Steve Harrington? Women."

"Does he even write his own shit?" Gareth asks.

"Does it matter?" Eddie turned to him with a glare. "Even if he writes it, it's not our style."

"Maybe we could at least hear what he's trying to work with us on?" Jeff, always the calming presence, asked towards Anthony.

"He sent over a sample before we sign any agreements."

Eddie sat down in the chair furthest from everyone else, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Now, this isn't an official recording. Just what he did on his phone on his tour bus with his acoustic guitar. He arranged the bass already for Frankie, too, but said he's open to whatever Gareth feels is right for the drums." Anthony pressed play on his phone and the room was filled with strumming and a surprisingly raspy voice singing what was clearly a chorus.

Eddie could pretend he hated it, and maybe the guys would agree with him and they'd never have to speak of this again.

He couldn't hide his reaction fast enough, though.

His jaw dropped as he listened to the lyrics, surprised to find that they weren't just about going to a club and dancing or being in love.

Steve's voice broke at the end before there was shuffling and the recording stopped.

Eddie felt everyone's eyes on him. He closed his mouth and looked down at the floor, tapping his fingers against his arm.

"It's not bad," he finally said. "Not sure why he needs us, though."

"Apparently, his brother is a huge fan of you and suggested he try to work with you."

"I think we should do it." Jeff said, a note of finality in his tone that Eddie knew he wouldn't try arguing with.

"Yeah, can't hurt." Frankie shrugged.

"If he's giving me creative freedom on the drums, how can I say no?" Gareth smirked.

"Guess we're working with the pop diva, then."

****

Steve Harrington was nothing like what they expected.

He showed up to their studio in sweats and glasses, holding a tablet and a bottle of Tylenol. They started to introduce themselves as he found a spot on the couch.

"I'm really glad you guys were willing to work with me," he said after he shook everyone's hand.

Eddie stared.

"My uh, my brother, Dustin, he's kinda why I wrote this song and I know it means a lot that you agreed to be on it," Steve continued. "So, thanks. Hopefully it doesn't ruin your vibes or anything."

Eddie felt every wall he built crumbling with every word Steve spoke. God dammit, this man just had to be sincere and hot and talented, didn't he?

"Nah, we're gonna sound great together." Eddie smiled at Steve's wide-eyed look. "You wanna show us the whole song?"

Steve nodded, pulling something up on his phone. Another recording, this one more professional and included an electric guitar.

"Robin was the stand in for the electric while I did bass."

"So you can play bass?" Frankie asked, leaning in.

"Yeah, but my preferred instrument is piano. I just don't do a lot of slow songs. Guitar is what gets the women interested, or so they tell me," Steve smiled awkwardly. "But feel free to change some things up. I'm totally open to suggestions."

But really, it was damn near perfect as it was. Frankie made one tweak during the bridge, but Steve ended up loving it more than the original and told him so with a grin.

"You're a fuckin' genius!" He exclaimed.

Gareth started messing around on the drums while Steve and Eddie worked on the first couple of lines.

"Something still doesn't feel right," Steve mentioned.

"Maybe we change the rhyming pattern?" Eddie suggested. "You've got ABAB. Might work better to do AABB. Some of these words can be moved around to make that work."

Steve stared at the notes app for a moment, then looked back up at Eddie, beaming smile making his eyes squint.

"I could kiss you!" He shouted. As soon as he realized what he said, he blushed, looking back down at the phone. "I mean, thanks. That's a great suggestion."

Eddie searched Steve's face, coming to the conclusion that there was probably a good reason why Steve didn't care about what women liked when it came to his music.

"I have a pretty strict rule about kissing people I work with," Eddie said slowly, quietly so they wouldn't be overheard.

"Yeah, no, that makes sense. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or-"

"But we won't be working with each other for long, right?" Eddie continued, letting his hand rest on Steve's thigh. God, he was muscular.

"Um. No I guess not."

"Rain check, then. Until we've finished our professional relationship." Eddie couldn't believe he was suggesting this. Showing interest in a pop star. What's next? Dating one? Marrying one?

"Are you saying you wanna kiss me, Munson?" Steve suddenly sounded more confident.

"I'm saying we've got work to do before I can get my hands on you." Eddie tapped his thigh before pulling away. "So let's get to it."

"Dude! I got it!" Gareth yelled, interrupting their moment.

"Be right there!" Steve yelled back, not looking away from Eddie. "Might break a record for fastest recording time ever just so I can kiss you," Steve added quietly to Eddie before standing and walking over to Gareth.

"Well, fuck." Eddie sighed, smiling to himself.

#corroded coffin #corrodedcoffinfest #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #jeff stranger things #gareth stranger things #unnamed freak stranger things #stranger things #rock star eddie munson #pop star steve harrington

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stop4death · 5 months ago

Text

confessions

note: i'm not a good writer i apologize in advance. but i have challengers brain rot and can't stop thinking about it so i had to write this. thinking about writing fem!reader x tashi next (reader is lowkey in love with tashi as well in this one in my mind) lmk if u like this and maybe i will

pairing: stanford!art donaldson x fem!stanford!reader

summary: since you started at stanford, you’ve been avoiding your close high school friend, art, and you’re pretty sure he’s been avoiding you, too. when he shows up to the tennis courts while you’re playing with your roommate and asks to talk, some confessions are made.

warnings: nsfw 18+ (MDNI!), smut, sub!art donaldson, soft dom!reader, angst, fluff, grinding, hand job, praise, aftercare (reader loves art sm), art is pathetic (in a good way i love him), please lmk if i forgot anything

word count: 1.9k

posted: may 27th 2024

It’s been a little over a month since you started at Stanford. With the stress of all your classes, homework, club meetings, and private out-of-season training for tennis, it feels like you can never catch a break. To make things even worse, you’ve been actively avoiding your close high school friend, Art. You promised each other you’d stick together at school while your best friend, Tashi, and her boyfriend, Art’s best friend, Patrick, are touring. Now, you haven’t heard from him, and haven’t tried to reach out to him either. When your roommate found out you’re a tennis player, she asked if you’d be willing to teach her how to play. You happily agreed, so you’ve been going down to the courts and playing with her once a week. Today, your heart jumped out of your chest and you almost dropped your racket when you were teaching your roommate how to backhand and Art walked in, sitting down in the stands.

“You okay?” your roommate asks, concerned by your sudden change in demeanor. She looks back to where you were looking and sees Art, then turns back to you confused.

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine” you say unconvincingly, and serve the ball. She doesn’t press any further, so you continue with the lesson, trying to ignore the knot in your stomach.

You can’t help but keep glancing up at Art. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you since he got there. Once you finish up her lesson, you say goodbye to your roommate and nervously walk up to the stands where Art is sitting.

“Hi.” you say softly, scratching at your palm anxiously.

“Hi. How have you been?” he asks, seemingly genuine.

“Um… I-I’ve been good. How about you?” you stutter, your heart racing.

“Can we talk?”

“Yeah, sure.” you sit down next to him, but he shakes his head.

“Privately?” he looks around at the few people who are on the tennis courts, including your roommate who’s still slowly packing up her bag and glancing up at you confoundedly.

The knot in your stomach twists even tighter, but you nod your head in agreement, standing up. You follow him out of the tennis courts and towards one of the dorm buildings. He unlocks a door on the first floor, gesturing for you to enter. As you walk into your friend’s dorm room for the first time, you look around. Your lips curve up slightly and you feel a warmth in your chest when you notice a photo of yourself with Art on a wall of photos of his friends and family. Your apprehensive look returns when you turn back towards the door as he shuts it behind him, standing awkwardly in the middle of his room. You’ve never been a fan of confrontation, but you should have prepared for it when you decided to completely ghost one of your best friends with no explanation.

“You can sit down, you know.” he says casually.

You glance between his desk and his bed, ultimately opting for the desk chair. You face the chair out away from the desk and sit down. He sits down on his bed, facing you.

“Nice room.” you say awkwardly, desperate to break the uncomfortable silence.

“Why did you stop talking to me?” he says plainly. You suddenly feel like you might vomit at any second. You would rather be six feet underground than in Art’s dorm room having this conversation right now.

“I didn’t mean to, I’ve just… been so busy with classes and clubs and training I guess I haven’t gotten the chance to text you.” you lie. And he sees right through it.

“Can you be serious… Why haven’t you talked to me since we got here?”

You take a deep breath, and look down at your hands. Trying to think of any other way you can stretch the truth and not have to tell him what you’re about to tell him, but your mind has gone blank. You look back up at him, realizing you have no choice but to be honest.

“Art I-” you try to find the words, your heart racing even faster. “I, um… back in high school, I had this… huge crush on you." Your cheeks flush with embarrassment as you stutter through the confession you've held onto for years, and you continue awkwardly, “And I knew you had a thing for Tashi, and it hurt because obviously who could ever compete with Tashi. She’s literally perfect. So over the summer, like a week before school started, Tashi and I were drunk and I decided to block your number. I thought maybe it would help me move on, start fresh, you know? I didn't want to keep being just friends and feeling, I don't know, awkward around you." You shift uncomfortably, the weight of your words heavy on your shoulders. "Honestly, I forgot I even did it until now. I thought maybe you were avoiding me, too, or… I don't know, I guess I just didn't think it through. I'm sorry, Art. If you don't hate me now, could we maybe try being friends again? I've moved past that crush, I promise. I won’t let it get in the way again.”

You try to make the last part sound as convincing as possible. You don’t think you’ll ever be over your crush on Art. He just sits there and listens as you talk. His expression is unreadable, and for a moment, you fear you've said too much. You look down again, fearing his response.

“Why didn’t you tell me before… that you had a crush on me?”

“Cause you liked Tashi. Like everyone else.”

“Tashi was always just a friend to me. I liked you.”

You look at him as if he must be lying, searching for any hint of irony in his tone or facial expression.

“I still do.” he says softly, and the knot in your stomach is replaced with butterflies.

You stand up from the chair, and Art looks at you with concern, thinking you’re about to walk out. You take a few steps forward and sit down next to him on his bed, your knees brushing together.

“I still like you, too.” you whisper and put a hand on his cheek. You slowly lean closer to him, and press your lips against his. His lips are soft and they taste of cigarettes and watermelon lime ChapStick, his favorite. You’ve dreamed about this taste for years. He places a hand on your thigh, deepening the kiss. You quickly move to straddle his lap. Your hands twist in his soft strawberry blond hair as you kiss him sloppily, as if you were trying to consume him. You feel his erection growing under you and grind your hips down against him, making him moan softly into the kiss. You tug at the hem of his shirt and he quickly removes it, tossing it carelessly across the room, then smashes his lips back against yours hungrily. His hand moves up your thigh to the waistband of your skirt.

“So impatient.” you say with a smirk, moving your head down to kiss his neck and taking his hand in yours, moving it away from your waistband. He whimpers at the feeling of you sucking and nibbling gently on his neck. You kiss up his neck and jawline then back to his lips quickly before pulling away. You move off his lap and sit further back on his bed, spreading your legs slightly and patting the space between them.

“Come sit here.”

He looks at you a bit confused, but he obeys. He sits between your legs on the bed, his back to you. You move your hands slowly over his arms and chest, kissing his neck from behind, bringing back the sweet sounds of his whimpering. He closes his eyes and leans his head back on your shoulder, giving you better access to his neck. He moans softly, reveling in the feeling of your lips and hands on him. You tease him, moving your hand slowly down his abdomen and stopping just before his waistband, then moving back up slowly. You do this a few times before he can’t take it anymore and his hips buck upwards, begging for your touch.

“Such a pretty boy… you want me to touch you?” you tease, speaking softly against his neck and driving him insane. He whimpers, nodding his head eagerly.

“Use your words.” you whisper in his ear. His hips buck up again, a needy whine escaping his lips.

“Please,” he gasps out, his voice soft and needy, “please touch me, I want you so bad.”

You smirk and move your hands to the waistband of his pants, tugging down gently. He wastes no time pulling his pants and boxers off in one quick movement.

“Good boy.” you say softly, sliding your hand down his abdomen. A strangled moan leaves his lips as you wrap your hand around his cock and start to stroke him. His hips jerk up, desperate for more friction.

“Fuck” he gasps out, his voice a husky whisper. You continue to stroke him slowly, your other hand wandering over his chest and abs, kissing his neck occasionally.

“Love hearing your moans… such a good boy for me.” you say softly in his ear. He can’t contain his whimpers as you continue.

“Feels… so good.” he chokes out through moans, leaning his head back on your shoulder again. He lets out a low moan as you kiss his neck again, panting heavily.

“Such a good boy.” you emphasize, playing with his hair with your other hand.

“Yes, I am… such a good boy for you.”

You can tell that he’s close to the edge.

“You gonna cum for me, baby?”

“Yes… yes.” he gasps, his eyes squeezed shut as he breathes heavily. You stroke faster now, and he lets out a loud moan as he finally lets go, cumming hard on your hand. He pants heavily as he leans back against you, trying to catch his breath. “Thank you.”

You move your hand up to your mouth, licking some of his cum off and swallowing it, then moving your hand to his mouth. He knows exactly what you’re asking of him. His breath hitches at the sight, and he leans forward to lick the rest of his cum off your hand. He swallows then closes his eyes and leans his head back against your shoulder.

“You did so good for me, angel. My good boy.” you wrap your arms around him, holding him close and rubbing his stomach as he recovers. He lets out a contented sigh as he leans back into you further, his body still trembling slightly. He puts his arms over yours, holding onto you tightly as he catches his breath. You let him lean on you for a few more minutes, still rubbing his stomach, before the two of you lay down, you still holding him from behind. He turns over to face you, his lips curling into a smile. You smile back at him and put a hand on his cheek, stroking it gently.

“I missed you so much. Please, don’t ever leave me again.”

His words are like a shot to the heart. You still feel like a horrible person for the way you hurt him, but one thing about Art is he could never hate you, no matter what you do. You pull him close, stroking his hair gently as you whisper, “I won’t. Ever. I promise.”

#challengers #art donaldson #mike faist #brain rot #smut #art donaldson x reader #sub!art donaldson #art donaldson smut #art donaldson fanfic

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ihavetoomanyocsdealwithit · 1 month ago

Text

Yuu has the audacity to ask a question. It leads to some interesting moments

Jade Leech, Rook Hunt, Vil Schoenheit, Floyd Leech

Jade Leech

“Jade, can I ask you a question?” It’s not often that the library is so packed that you end up sharing a table but if it had to be with anybody, at least it was Jade.

Jade wasn’t naturally academically smart. He took a lot of notes and studied in order to come out in the middle. There were folks that thought he was simply keeping his head down, but Yuu found out by accident. She knew Jade was incredibly street smart and people savvy though, no matter what grades he got. It worked in her favor though, as Jade let them copy notes from last year in exchange for not sharing the information anywhere. Not that Yuu planned too, but they weren’t going to pass up such an opportunity either.

“Of course, I will assist in anyway I can.”

“Do you have any books that you would recommend for scavenging for local flora and fauna in the woods back at Ramshackle? I’ve tried searching through the library but it’s a bit too vague for what I need.”

If Yuu had blinked, they would have missed the brief surprise and delight on his face.

“Well,” he sets his pen down, “As the president of the Mountain Lovers club, I’m sure we could discuss that during our meetings. If only you were a member.” he sighed

“If only Crowley would allow me to join any clubs.” Yuu muttered, “I know it's a requirement for first and second years to be involved in at least one, but he says I have far more to offer as his unofficial assistant. Unpaid is more accurate but what do I know.”

Jade smiles, the one that matches his brothers. Wide and full of teeth.

“Leave Crowley to me, dear Prefect. You just meet me in the morning behind Ramshackle. Bring a basket and your camera, oh, and dress warm. It'll be cold for you.”

He writes some extra instructions on a slip of paper and collects his things, turning left at the library doors. Damn, that was straight to the headmasters’ office too. Jade really doesn't play around when it comes to the Mountain Lover's club.

While Yuu isn’t able to attend every meeting, the Mountain Lover’s club apparently includes trips to other countries, recipes cooked in the Ramshackle kitchen as well as appreciating cultures and crafts made by various peoples which slowly starts to decorate the rickety dorm into something interesting and unique. Jade becomes a different person as a traveler and seems to find joy in just exploring and discovering all the different ways that people create and eat and live.

After he graduates, Yuu gifts him the book that the two of them created, with pictures and descriptions of all the Night Raven College fauna and flora, their uses, if they are edible, and different recipe and potion ingredients, the regions it comes from, and even snippets of stories and memories they share.

Jade is not an emotional man, but when he asks you to come with him on his next expedition, his smile is full of joy.

Rook Hunt

“Rook, can I ask you a question?”

Rook looks down from his spot in the tree, a camera perched in his hands. “Amazing eyesight, Mon Trickster! I did not anticipate being found. Ask away, but be quick, less Roi de Lion suspects me.”

“Are there any plays or poetry books that would be good for a beginner? I read a lot back home but I know there is cultural and historical context I'm going to be missing-”

“I am so happy!” he practically drops the tree, taking both of her hands to kiss the knuckles, “I would be happy to help you. Come, come!”

Oh, they are going to the library now. Right now. Ok, Yuu should have expected that.

Rook is always excitable, but he’s mindful as well. Picking out smaller volumes at first, and adding some reference materials, putting a few back as he asks questions about what she has already read or what she typically enjoys. He also writes out a list for audio books and radio performances. Thank the Seven that Crowley finally got them a phone and they could excuse the data usage for school.

“I have the films I would be willing to lend, but I would ask you be incredibly careful.”

“Oh, I don’t have a TV or any type of DVD player at Ramshackle. We try and keep the places as authentic as possible. It helps when the ghosts come to visit on Hallow’s eve.” They don’t have wifi either and their electricity runs off a backup generator, but Yuu doesn’t mention that. They are distinctly aware of how rundown Ramshackle is, but they try not to advertise how badly.

“What dedication you have to your dorm and the history of Night Raven College. We may do so in Pomefiore!”

And that’s how they end up having movie night basically every Wednesday night, sometimes with other Pomefiore members or even Vil himself refreshing on the classics. Rook would sit close by, quietly explaining certain contexts and even joining Yuu on reading through some of the poetry books. His passion comes out more with his knowledge than his speech in those moments, and it’s...nice. Normally Rook is the most reserved person she knows. He’s family is still a mystery, but she’s learned more about his beliefs and insights into how he perceives life in general.

“This is how I met Roi de Poison, you know. He enchanted me at first sight, but his mind...he understood my passion for theater, music and beauty. He respected me, once I proved that I loved him for more than his looks and roles.”

Crazy fan he might have been in the past, it was definitely more of an equal relationship once you saw past the surface level. Yuu eventually started picking a few habits and fashion tips, slowly becoming a bit more refined. Elegant even, she might say.

When she hesitantly asks for help with other things, it's easier each time. Help with skincare routines, or experimenting with make-up, what colors work best and how silhouettes come across. It’s never been this fun to experiment with her style. It helps that Rook, while thinking certain things definitely work, will be gentle in the things that aren’t.

“They do not enhance your beauty,” he says, sounding like Vil, “And you are already magnifique.”

He is the first person that she shares her book of stories with, the precognitions that she has

“Do you think fairy tales are fiction?” He asks her, quietly skimming over the passages of Snow White. The Fairest Queen is barely mentioned, but without her, there is no story.

“Living here feels like a fairy tale, but if it is, you’ve made it a wonderful dream.”

Rook looks at her, a surprised chuckle slipping out. Before he can hide it, his nose crinkles, a smile wide enough to show his gums, and Yuu thinks it enhances all the best of him.

Vil Schoenheit

“Vil, may I ask you a question?”

“At least somebody paid attention when I went over manners. You may.” Vil says, as he adds in some sort of lilac powder. Normally, they wouldn’t have any classes together, but with Yuu acting as an ‘assistant’ towards the teachers to make extra cash, they got to see the second and third years more than even the other first years in their dorms.

“How do you make time for it all? Between the acting jobs, getting good grades in school, indulging in potionology and homebrew makeup in your limited free time, it seems like you get so much done with just as much time as the rest of us.”

“Thank you for noticing.” Vil says, looking up from his potion work. “And yes, I do keep a very organized schedule. Every minute is planned and my down time is spent decompressing efficiently.”

“Is there any articles or techniques you would recommend? Or a template you used?”

“You could just ask me for help, you know.” he retorts, huffing a bit.

“I know I could, but I also want to be respectful of what you have on your plate.”

“Ah, potato...I have plenty of time, especially in this season. I don’t schedule anything this close to finals. Come sit with me this evening for dinner and we will talk goals and progress markers. There is more to this mentally than most people think.”

Vil is a bit less than impressed when he sees just how much Yuu accomplishes for Night Raven College with no credit and makes a note to talk to the teachers and Crowley about getting her properly compensated or at least. But overall, it goes well, making time for exercise, hobbies, studies and even some time with him. Telling her about the techniques he used and actually practicing them were two different things, and some things are just easier to show rather than tell.

“Alright, let’s start here.”

Mindfulness, ironically for somebody outside Scarabina, is important to Vil. Sinking fully into the experience of his daily life, looking at all the colors, enjoying his foods with no screens, or just enjoying the quiet while he removes makeup. His decompress is like a valve that he releases in minutes throughout the day, not hours at the end of it.

“This takes practice. Don’t discourage yourself if you don’t get it every time, eventually it will come more naturally.”

And it does. Over the months, Yuu feels more productive than ever, even finding time to wonder about her own style. It is a bit embarrassing when Vil enters Ramshackle to use the Guest Room to study and sees her hastily trying to wash off eyeshadow.

“Oh, spudling, not your color. No, no, here.” He sits, and teaches, a bit harshly at times, but he wouldn’t be Vil if he wasn’t direct. Much like Riddle, he fully believes that people can reach his level, and sees no reason why they shouldn’t. And while Yuu will never be Vil pretty, she certainly feels more beautiful and confident now than she ever has before.

It isn’t until Vil is reviewing one of his performances that Yuu makes a comment, some offhand remark about the script not quite matching the vernacular expected for the period, that he invites her to sit and review more.

Yuu doesn’t think it’s anything spectular, it’s kind of obvious, but apparently it wasn’t to the rest of the audience.

Vil sits at thier usual tea table in the Night Raven Gardens, and slides a ticket over to her.

“If you have time. I know you recently picked up a few photography jobs in town that would be a shame to miss. Rapport with clients is key, you know.”

It’s the red-carpet event to a 5th year anniversary movie he did as a child. All glitz and glam, showing just how much they have grown as actors and people since their debuts. It’s a milestone even for Vil, the first and only role where he was played a supporting role that wasn’t a villain or antagonist.

“What colors are you wearing? I might have something that compliments.” Yuu asks, already going through their mind for anything suitable in Ramshackle.

“Well,” Vil preens, opening his laptop. “We will just have to buy something together to ensure we match, won’t we? When are you free?”

It’s so small Yuu almost misses it, but hidden underneath his painted blush is a heated blush, quiet and pink and delighted.

Floyd Leech

“Floyd, can I ask you a question?”

Floyd doesn’t even bother looking up from his spot at the table, “Better not be a boring question Shrimpy, or I’ll squeeze ya~”

“Where do you go to get your shoes repaired?”

His head snaps up just a bit, left eye brighter than usual.

“Ace had mentioned that your sole had torn during practice,” Yuu continues, feeling like they have to explain themselves with how intensely he was staring, “But the next day it had been stitched back on like new. There are some fantastic leather boots from the old NRC uniforms that I'd love to use, but I’m trying to find somebody who won’t butcher them or tell me they aren’t repairable just cause there old or out of style, you know?”

Floyd nods, eyes still searching before ultimately just shrugging his shoulders. “Hmmm...at least it wasn’t boring. Meet at Monstro Lounge at 6 lil’ Shrimpy, bring the shoes!”

He walks away before Yuu can even say that they have to meet with somebody else, but that really isn’t a possibility when a Leech brother has demanded your attention. Looks like you’ll have to reschedule with Deuce.

The Monstro Lounge is fairly steady, though Yuu has never seen it slow. Always some sort of deal or exclusive that sets these rich bastards running through the doors, even if it’s just so they don’t have to deal with the lines in the cafeteria or cook their own food.

Jade waves you in, taking the box from your hands in a gentlemanly manner, and leading you to the side. Floyd is quick to intercept, mumbling a thank you before his long strides leave you almost jogging.

“Alright, let’s see what we are working with.”

The dorm is clearly shared between him and Jade. Crisp white walls, a seashell and sea motif on the desk and headboard and some floating shelves that look vaguely like drift wood, exactly what she expected from Octanvinelle. But that’s about all the two sides have in common. Jade’s is organized, of course, but notable is the terrariums on the shelves and a stack of geology books tucked into the corner, along with photos of places he may have been or plans to go.

Floyd’s half is a mess, yes, but it’s organized chaos, like looking at Ace and Deuce’s dorm. High protein snacks are tucked on the shelves, completed 3D puzzles, and...fashion magazines? Huh, he did say that merpeople didn’t really have a reason to wear clothes so land peoples being so obsessed with it would be interesting, especially in different regions or cultures. And the trends are constantly changing. It actually started fitting, the more Yuu thought about it.

Floyd set the box on the desk, picking up the shoes and bending them this way and that, pressing on the heel or pinches the toe.

“You’ve taken good care of them,” He says, “The stitches are loose and the nails need to be hammered back in, but the leather is clean and strong. I’d get some new leather laces though, the wax on these has completely frayed from misuse. How old are these?”

“They're from back when Ezra and the others went to school, but they don’t have a great concept of time.” Floyd raises an eyebrow. “Oh, the ghosts at Ramshackle.”

“Huh, no wonder it felt like the place was trying to kick us out.” Floyd walks over to the walk-in closet and Yuu has to double take. She would have mistaken the closet for Jade’s! On the left, the clothes are hung neatly on the rack except for the everyday items like the basketball or school uniform which have their own spots hung neatly on the door itself. Below that are clear boxes that seem to hold all sort of tools. Are these hobbies that Floyd has picked up and gotten bored with?

But the right side of the walk in closet is just racks and racks of shoes. Wing tip dress, loafers, even a few kitten heels and red backed stiletos. All perfectly shined and displayed.

“Floyd, you repair your own shoes?” Yuu taking the box he hands her.

“When you are as tall as me and Jade, you end up having to customize and fix a lot of your own clothes, unless you wanna pay some stupid prices, and standing there while they pin and stuff is boring. I’d rather just do it myself.” He takes out a wicked looking needle and a stand, securing it to the desk with a flick of a lever. “Which pair is your size?”

“Oh, these.” she says, picking up a pair of loafers and ankle boots. “I can’t afford for you to do this for me Floyd. I don’t have the funds right now.”

He just leans against the table with a laugh, “Oh, I aint doin’ it for free. Your gonna pay me by letting me keep a pair, specifically those.”

He points to the bottom of the box, a pair of thigh high riding boots from what she can tell.

“Those are the ones in the worst shape?”

“Oh, I won’t be able to get them to their original form, but I can lengthen the sole and toe area a bit, add a heel, and have a wicked pair of thighs high stilettos that’ll have even Betta fish jealous~”

“With your legs, you’d look really good in a skirt.”

They both blink.

“Shit, sorry, my mouth ran-” Floyd laughs, something softer than usual.

“Your damn right Shrimpy.” He smiles, “I do look damn good in a skirt. I prefer dresses though.”

He takes a seat, motioning for her to take the other side, sets the shoe inside the stand, and starts explaining the process. It doesn’t always make sense but he’s clearly passionate about it.

This might be a truer version of him, Yuu thinks, seeing him carefully take out a rusted nail to pull out a fresh silver one from an even smaller box. One that isn’t bored or moody, but just...getting able to do something that actually interests him.

“Hey Floyd. Do you want to go thrifting with me and Kalim on Sunday? I think you’d have some interesting things to say about some of the finds, especially the clothes mart. They literally have a bin of vintage pieces for a dollar a piece.”

He leans back, and does that smile again. All teeth but his eyes relax, all boyishly charming.

“You got all the audacity in the world, don’t you?” He chuckles, “I’ll get my shift covered.”

#twst #twst wonderland #disney twst #twisted wonderland #Jade Leech #Floyd Leech #vil schoenheit #Rook Hunt #twst Jade #Twst Floyd #twst vil #twst Rook #twst x reader #Rook Hunt x reader #vil shoenheit x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd leech x reader

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darnell-la · 2 months ago

Note

Sub! Logan would be so fucking hot. And the way you write him is soo good! I'd love to see your ideas about how he would act as a sub.

note: we rushed this BUT we have more. better ones coming soon!

follow our Instagram @ darnell.la so we can start posting random videos, photos, edits, and memes of the people we write about!

———

“Going to pearls,” a woman spoke as she got into his car. “What’s your name?” He asked to confirm. “Y/n,” she said. The man turned around, realizing that this young lady was alone.

Usually, he picks up a huge group. That’s why he has a limousine, but she’s alone and has no one on her guest list.

“You gonna drive, handsome?” Y/n asked. Logan quickly turned back around and began driving. He was surprised by the nickname, but he let it go. He’s been called everything by now.

Logan’s been driving for ten minutes, music low, and y/n looking out the window. He’s never felt this awkwardness because it wasn’t him and only one person in the car.

“So — Friends busy?” He asked. Y/n slowly turned her head, looking at the man in the mirror. “All canceled. As always,” she added before she looked back out of the window.

“Oh,” he said, feeling a bit bad. He could see she paid one hundred for every hour tonight, and he would be with her for six hours.

“I mean, I can talk to my job, probably give you a refund or somethin,” he said, feeling like he should help her in some way. Usually, the man couldn’t care less, but y/n’s a young woman going to a club alone.

“I’ll be fine — Guess all the drinks I bought will be for me,” she said in a low voice that pained Logan to hear. She seemed sweet, and her friends canceled out on her. All of them.

“What was this for? Like, tonight? What did you have planned for tonight?” He kept a conversation going which confused y/n. His profile says he preferred not to talk and that he wouldn’t talk first.

“Well, it’s kind of my birthday, so — Yeah,” y/n sighed. “Oh, well — Happy birthday?” He said, not knowing if it was appropriate. The woman giggled to herself at his attempt to make her feel better.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna drink? I’ve got plenty and I can’t leave with any bottles,” she said, pointing to the bottles on the table, all hard liquor and only one juice for a mixture.

“I kind of have to drive you back home,” Logan turned down her offer, which he’d never done before. “C’mon! It’s my birthday,” she smiled at the man as she raised a bottle for him to take.

Logan waved her off, wanting to be responsible and think about her life that could be at stake, but he still felt bad about the empty spaces on the couches.

“Fine, but only if you don’t report me,” he joked, making her laugh as she took a bottle herself. “Cheers to me and my only friend who showed up which is the bodyguard,” she raised her drink.

“Cheers,” the man chuckled before raising the drink to his lips. He watched the girl drink, thinking it would be a small amount like any young lady, but her — She had almost chugged half the bottle.

“Woah, bub — Don’t hurt yourself,” he said, making her roll her eyes playfully. “Oh, don’t be mad because I can drink more than you,” she said, wanting to have some kind of fun tonight. Getting her bodyguard drunk and then driving her home sounds like a fun story to tell.

“Trust me, y/n — You can’t,” he said, but y/n didn’t believe him. That was until he shrugged his shoulders and chugged the whole bottle. The expression across her face was stunned. She’s never seen anything like that before.

“What the fuck,” she whispered. “Yeah — Kinda my power,” he chuckled. The man turned around to start his job and stood outside of her closed section until she spoke.

“Wait! I-I’m kind of alone so I don’t mind if you — stay? Please, I kind of feel like shit,” she admitted. She told her friends she was completely fine about their cancellation, but she’s not. She lost a lot of money and her mood was talk.

Logan couldn’t turn the offer down just like the last, so he stayed. The two drank all night, finishing every last bottle. She even got him to dance with her which he wouldn’t have done with anyone else. He had no idea what’s gotten into him tonight.

“God, tonight was fun,” y/n said as the man turned the corner where her apartment was. “Yeah, it was,” Logan smiled as he took a quick look at the young lady who was now sitting in the passenger seat, body turned towards him.

“You don’t understand how much I appreciate you, Mister Logan. You were the best fun I’ve had in like years!” She admitted. He wasn’t scared to drink and dance like most of her friends were.

“You’re the most fun I’ve had in maybe forever,” Logan meant it, but she had no idea who this man was. She was too sad to notice when she first met him and now she’s too drunk to realize.

“Is there a way I can repay you? Maybe like a cup of tea? I don’t fuckin’ know,” y/n laughed with him. “I don’t know, hun, I kind of have to get back home,” he said.

“How far do you live from here?” She asked. “About thirty minutes,” he said. “Oh, no,” she gasped. He’d been drinking because of her, and now she was going to have him drive back and half an hour just to get him.

“Don’t worry, bub. I've been doin’ this a lot,” he said. “Yeah, but I’ll be stressed all night. Please, stay the night. I have a spare room? It’s the least I can do,” she said, sounding like a beg. “God, it’s hard to turn you down. Do you know that?” He said as y/n smiled.

Logan parked the car for the night before y/n got him situated in her spare room. “Still want tea?” She asked. “I think I’ll be fine, bub,” he said. “But a shot would due,” he added. He had seen the liquor drawer she had.

“Comin’ right up, handsome,” she said before walking off. As she did, he couldn’t help but watch her figure. He scanned her dress earlier, but she looked way better just now. Maybe it was the alcohol? He didn’t know.

“You always drink this much?” She asked. “Yeah, and you?” He asked as she handed him his shot before sitting next to him with hers. “As you can see,” she giggled.

“Cheers to a goodnight with a man I brought back from the club?” She couldn’t help herself. “Cheers,” the man downed the drink as he watched her. She’s looked so drinking…

“God, that it’s hard,” she shook her head. “Yeah,” he aimlessly said as he watched a drop of liquor roll down her lip. “Hey, c’mere,” the man said, softly turning her face before wiping the liquor from her mouth.

Y/n was shocked and silent, not knowing what to do after. That seemed so sweet, but at the same time, she was drunk out of her mind.

“They look pretty,” the man spoke, breaking the silence. His thumb grazed her bottom lip, loving the smooth feeling of them. “Really?” She asked low, feeling shy all of a sudden. She hasn’t been all night until now.

“Mhm hm,” he mumbled as he slowly leaned into her. She felt like she was in a trance the way she felt she needed to lean in. Her heart was raising until their lips touched.

At first, it was sweet and slow, maybe a little tongue but after they both opened and locked eyes, they couldn’t help it.

Y/n quickly hopped on top of Logan, now grinding on his hips as he held her up by her ass. The man was shocked at her aggression and dominance but couldn’t complain.

“You taste so good,” she said under her breath as she kissed him. “I’m glad I took you home,” she added before moving down to his neck. She felt this hard urge to mark the man she hardly knew.

“Fuck, y/n,” Logan moaned low. He knew his voice could go that high. Y/n hummed into his neck, sucking long and rough to make sure he was living here marked up.

“Can feel how hard you are. Bet you’ve been waiting for me to touch you all night, hm?” She asked, hands traveling down his stomach until she could palm his clothes cock.

“Mhm hm,” the man whined at her grip. “Words, baby,” she demanded in a soft voice. “Y-Yes, baby,” the man’s mouth went slack at her touch. “So good,” she said before pushing him down in the bed.

“Gonna be good for me tonight?” She asked as he nodded quickly. “Gonna be my birthday gift, baby?” Y/n had lifted her dress before fondling with his belt. “Yes, yes, I am,” he couldn’t hide his heavy breathing.

“Oh god — You’re a big boy, aren’t you?” Y/n pulled Logan’s cock out. He was heavy and huge. “Yes, I am,” he answered, wanting to be good for her. He wanted to make her proud. He wanted to make a woman he barely knew, proud.

“He looks hungry,” y/n stroked the man, watching his pre cum leak from the tip. Y/n spat on the man’s cock, making his eyes widen because no one has ever done that to him before. They’d just wrap their mouth around him or push him inside with no preparation.

“Gonna feel so good,” y/n lifted her hips before sliding all the way down in one go. “F-Fuck,” the man cried out, his already bucking up into her.

“Fuck — Could you be my bodyguard every night?” She jokingly asked but the man nodded back so quickly, she thought about it. Maybe he isn’t too bad. He was fun tonight. He could be fun every night.

“Gonna let me wet you every night, baby?” Y/n asked as she leaned down on his body. “Fuck, yes — I wanna be with you every night,” the man’s hips moved slightly up into y/n, causing her to clench around him from how deep he gets.

“How old are you again, baby?” Y/n asked. “Two hundred,” the man’s hands gripped y/n’s ass, not thinking about his response. “A man with a sense of humor — So hot,”

Y/n rolled her hips, grinding on the man to feel every thick and long inch in her. The way his skin rubbed her walls, made her squeeze around him. He was close but felt embarrassed about how short he was going to last.

“Gonna cum for me, baby?” Y/n asked, seeing the man bite his lip, trying to focus on holding back. “C’mon — I want you to fill me,” y/n whispered in his ear before giving it a light slick.

“Fuck,” the man let out a shaky moan as his legs shook. “C’mon, baby — Cum in me,” y/n began bouncing in the man’s cock, feeling him twitch inside her. She just knew he was going to give her a big and well-needed load.

“C’mon,” y/n rode him harder, filling the room with their skin slapping against each other and her wet cunt coating his cock. “I’m cumming!” Logan warned through his teeth as his hips bucked upwards a few times.

Y/n kept riding him, mixing his seed inside of her until she felt like she had enough. “So fuckin’ good, baby. I wonder if you taste you,” y/n spoke, feeling the urge to suck him dry.

“Fuck, it’s too much,” the old man said, grilling her hips a bit tight so she could slow down, but she wouldn’t. “Oh, really?” She asked, feeling the knot grow in her stomach. She was so close.

“God- Fuck — I can’t take it, baby,” Logan tried begging her. “Yes, you can. Just a few more seconds, baby. You think you can do that?” She asked, looking into Logan’s eyes. They were glossy and full of lust.

The man nodded his head with a shaky hum, feeling the need to cum again. “Good boy,” she spoke as she leaned up, rocking her hips back and forth until she couldn’t anymore.

Y/n released on the man, earning a whine from him. After she came, he couldn’t hold himself in. He had come inside of her again. For the second time.

“Oh god,” y/n breathed out, feeling so full. “S-Sorry,” the man shook as she leaned in front of his face, hands rubbing his cheek. “Wanna feel more of you,” she said.

The man was shocked at how many times this woman could go, but he didn’t want to disappoint her. He wanted to pleasure her and make her happy. He tried to be good for her. And he was for the whole night and many more.

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wileys-russo · 8 months ago

Text

filling the void (3) II a.putellas x sister!reader

prequel one two

since you all wanted to be hurt so bad here is more angst! and for the sake of the broken and left behind younger sibling support club, a little comfort and some steps forward too - song i listened to when writing was we might be dead by tomorrow by Soko! filling the void (3) II a.putellas x sister!reader

after your outburst it worried eli to watch you retract into yourself, and for an entire week bar going to work you hardly left your room.

something out of character for someone like yourself who since your sisters decided they didn't want to spend time with you anymore, had thrown yourself head first into social activities with people who did.

you still saw your friends at work and when they drove you home or picked you up for a shift, but you had a variety of excuses to avoid the dinners or hang outs you were invited to outside of that, alarming not only eli but also your friends now.

your friends had all of course been filled in on the discourse of your apparent abandonment, having assured you time and time again that it wasn't your fault.

they spent time affirming to you that it was just an unfortunate side affect of the large age gap which wasn't something you had any control over. they all did their best to make you feel supported in your emotions whilst also encouraging you not give up on the relationship with your sisters entirely.

something that probably would have benefited both alexia and alba to know, at first feeling sorry for themselves after your outburst. this was then channeled into a disapproval for these new older friends you kept close.

guards went up from both of your sisters about how these strangers were trying to replace their space in your life, they were your older sisters not these new girls hanging around.

eli had all but banned alba and alexia from coming over throughout the week following your explosion at them, warning you needed space and time and that the more they pushed you the further away you'd pull, case in point your outburst in the first place which had spawned from both of them going at you too hard and too fast.

but when the weekend rolled around and still you made no move to leave the comfort of your bedroom or the family home eli decided maybe it was time she step in a little, unable to see any change in your antisocial behaviour unless she offered a somewhat forceful helping hand.

"hija." you looked up from a book your head was buried in with a raised eyebrow. "i am going to watch alexia's game soon." eli started as you noted she was dressed in a barcelona jersey with alexias name and number proudly on the back.

"okay." you nodded with a small frown of suspicion, unsure why she was really telling you this and sensing maybe there was more to it.

"you should come with me." the woman continued encouragingly with a warm smile. "are you asking me or telling me mami?" you questioned with a sigh making the older woman chuckle.

"telling. you have not left the house all week nena and i am worried about you." her voice softened the last few words as you sighed. "mami i'm fine! i am going to see my friends tomorrow night." you promised as she hummed.

"really? that is good then." eli smiled happily as you hummed. "sí, they said if i did not come willingly they would break in here and kidnap me, so i didn't really have a choice." you sighed making your mami chuckle.

"bien. now get dressed we leave in ten minutes!" eli clapped as you made a face. "wait i still have to come?" you asked with a small groan as she nodded. "sí, i was telling not asking." the woman smiled as you groaned again but snapped your book shut.

and sure enough ten minutes later you were following her out the door albeit begrudgingly, your airpods confiscated the moment you tried to put them in, deflating even further as you slid into the car.

"don't look so miserable fresa, watching one football match will not kill you." eli chuckled throwing the car into reverse as you sighed dramatically. "i could only dream of being so lucky." you mumbled sliding on a pair of sunglasses.

"why are we here?" you questioned a little anxiously as you recognized the street she turned down a little while later. "picking up your hermana, she is also coming." eli spoke with a slight air of caution, glancing to you as you frowned clearly a little lost in your thoughts.

"mi hija i know your sisters have really hurt you i am not dismissing that, and i will not push you any further then you are ready to when it comes to letting them fix it. but you are all still my daughters and i enjoy spending time with all of you, together." eli tried to put it as gently as she could as you sighed but nodded none the less.

when you didn't say anything further eli didn't prompt you to do so, waving at alba who locked up her place behind her and made her way to the car, surprise flickering clearly across her face seeing you sat in the front seat.

"hola mami." your sister slid into the back, leaning forward and kissing eli's cheek, contemplating for a brief second whether to greet you in the same way but thinking better of it and settling back in her seat.

"hi fr-hermana." alba was quick to catch herself, eli flashing her a small smile through the rear view mirror as you hummed and mumbled back a greeting, gaze trained out the window.

you zoned out of the conversation which followed the duration of the drive to the stadium, alba trying a couple of times to include you but when she only received one word replies she recognized that was likely doing more harm than good and ceased her efforts.

you stuck out a little once you all arrived, finding your seats in the friends and family section and you were one of the only spectators sat without a jersey on.

you of course had more than enough to choose from. as you grew up alexia had gifted you with countless jerseys both for spain and barcelona.

some she'd played in during important games and wanted you to have over anyone else, and some were just spares, getting most of your immediate family members the latest kits as soon as they dropped.

but when you'd stopped bothering to go to her games you had assumed this ceased. but unbeknownst to you alexia had a whole horde of jerseys at her home for you, but at her own fault barely having spent much time with you had disallowed her to be able to gift them to you.

so even though you could have easily worn a barcelona jersey, you were still upset with both of your sisters. so to wear alexia's name and number on your back felt a little too close to home for the time being which eli had respected enough not to bring up when she'd noticed.

you'd managed to busy yourself with your phone for a good half an hour, sat on one side of your mami as alba sat on the other, the two engaged in their own conversation that your anti social behaviour prompted you not be involved in.

but everything changed when eli stood to use the bathroom before kick off, alba then taking it upon herself to slide across one seat now sat right beside you causing a small sigh to drop from your lips.

"hermana." alba started gently and you recognised where she'd be angling this conversation from the soft tone of her voice.

"alba por favor i really do not want to talk about the other night, i do not even want to be here." you exhaled honestly, watching the warm ups on the pitch and avoiding her eyes.

"then why did you come?" your sister asked curiously, propping her arm over the back of her chair to rest her head on her fist. "mami made me." you grumbled in annoyance crossing your arms across your chest with a frown.

"so you don't have a curfew and go out at all hours of the night doing whatever you want with her permission but mami can still make you come to ale's games?" alba spoke as your head whipped around to snap at her though seeing the teasing smile on her face you realized she wasn't serious.

"sí." a small smile crept onto your lips which disappeared quickly. "saw that." alba commented quietly, turning her eyes back to the pitch as yours rolled.

thankfully before you were subjected to anymore small talk eli returned, but to your dismay alba didn't move seats and instead was now sat still beside you as eli sat on her other side.

when warm ups finished alexia's eyes drifted to the crowd, spotting olga sat with a few friends and waving before looking for her family. she spotted eli with a grin, waving again as alba did the same and for a moment alexia's eyes glanced over you without a second thought.

but then they snapped right back and widened in shock, not having seen you at a game for a long time now she hadn't even realised the figure sat beside alba was you.

"mami made her come!" alba mouthed giving the captain a subtle thumbs up as you missed the entire thing, attention focused on your phone.

catching eli's eye next alexia mouthed a thank you as the older woman smiled and gave a curt nod, alexia hurrying off to follow after the team to the change room.

upset with her or not and no matter how long it had been since you were at estadi johan cruyff there was no denying your sister was a force to be reckoned with on the football pitch, and she was enigmatic to watch play.

just before she was subbed off in the second half alexia lined up near the goal when caro stepped up to take the corner, delivering the ball in perfectly for your sisters head to knock it into the back of the net.

you looked around as the crowd errupted, chanting alexia's name as you of course clapped her goal though without quite as much enthusiasm as those around you.

you watched your sister turn toward where the three of you were sat and make a weird signal with her hands, blowing a kiss at your mami before racing back for kick off.

"you saw that, sí?" alba nudged you with a grin as you gave her an odd look. "qué?" you questioned a little confused as to what you were supposed to have been looking at.

"ale's celebration. E, A, F." alba recreated it with her own hands as the strange look didn't drop from your face and your older sister rolled her eyes.

"e-" she pointed at eli beside her. "-a-" she pointed at herself. "-f." she pointed to you as it clicked. "oh." you mumbled, dropping your sunglasses down over your eyes and remaining quiet for the duration of the match.

"can i go wait at the car?" you asked hopefully, glancing to eli as the stadium had now mostly cleared and the girls friends and families were making their way down to the pitch to greet the team on their six to nil win.

"no, stay where i can see you please hija there are a lot of people around still. i think you should come say hi to your hermana, but i will not push you." eli squeezed your shoulder with a gentle smile as you nodded, staying in your seat as she headed down to the barrier where alexia was already speaking with olga and alba.

you pulled your knees up to your chest and sighed, doom scrolling through your social media's to try and pass time as you attempted to ignore the internal battle your mind was having whether to go greet your sister or not.

"well well well, hola diablillo." you jumped a little in shock as a new body dropped down into the seat beside you, sunglasses snatched from your face and placed onto her own as you couldn't help but grin.

"you are so annoying maría give them back!" you laughed reaching for them as she clicked her tongue and pushed your hand away each time you reached to take them back.

"no i think i will keep them, they look better on me anyway no?" mapi teased before pulling you into a hug. "it has been some time since we've seen you here diablillo." mapi's voice was a little softer now and you weren't sure if alexia had filled her in at all on what had happened lately.

"sí, i have been busy." you shrugged dismissively making mapi chuckle. "ohh because you are so grown up now, just a little worker girl hm? too grown up to slum it with your sisters friends at a football match." mapi teased pinching and pulling at your cheeks playfully.

as you caught up with the older girl who seemed in no rush to go greet the rest of her teammates you were too occupied to feel alexia's eyes where she watched on from the barrier.

eyebrows furrowing and a strange feeling twisting in her stomach at the way you easily conversed with her best friend, rough housing around with her and laughing, just like how you used to with alexia.

"amor." olga's hand caught her wrist as she jumped the barrier to head up toward you, giving her girlfriend a slight look of warning as alexia tugged her hand away.

"i am just going to say hi." alexia promised as olga still looked unsure but nodded, turning around as someone called her name and alexia headed off up into the stands.

"you know diablillo you are nearly old enough for some of these of your own, maybe you come over and i will bust out my gun sí?" mapi grinned wolfishly, showing you a few of her new tattoos.

your eyes lit up in awe as they traced the deep inkings which wrapped around the older girls limbs, the exact same way they had as a child when you first laid eyes on her.

"i don't know how our mami would feel about that maría, stop being a bad influence." alexia's tone was teasing but she didn't miss the way your entire body seemed to tense at her arrival, mapi grinning up at her best friend none the less.

"me? capitana i would never." mapi gasped, standing to her feet and messing up your hair before handing you back your sunglasses. "you call me and we can talk more about it. adios diablillo!" mapi addressed you now with a wink, messing up your hair before making her way down to where ingrid was waiting, the tall norweigan sending you a kind smile and a wave which you returned.

"hola." alexia recaptured your attention now, your body stiffening as she sat down beside you, your sister frowning a little as you leaned your body away from hers just slightly.

"did you enjoy the match?" alexia asked, cautious of her every word as you nodded. "sí, it was a good win." you acknowledged, resting your chin on your knee as your fingers drummed anxiously against your thigh.

"i am glad you came, i have missed seeing your face in the stands." alexia's next words sent a strange feeling through you. "you didn't even notice i stopped coming." your words came out before you could stop them, alexia deflating a little as still you refused to look at her.

"fresa-lo siento hermana." alexia was quick to correct, trying her best to remember snippets of what you said the other night. "i know i did not and i really really want to-" she couldn't even finish her sentence before you shot to your feet.

"i need to go to the bathroom." you were gone before alexia could blink, scrambling away like a startled deer as your sister sighed and tiredly dragged her hands down her face.

there was a soft touch to her shoulder and she glanced up to see her girlfriend looking down at her sympathetically. "no luck?" olga winced slightly as she sat down and alexia shook her head.

"i barely said two words and she was gone. she looked terrified, and of me!" alexia struggled to get out with another deep sigh as olga rubbed her back.

"we talked about this ale, slow. fresa needs time and i know you want to fix it cariño but you have to let her come to you, she needs to want to fix things." olga reminded softly as alexia nodded, kissing the girls cheek appreciatively before the two of them stood and made their way back down to the pitch.

your airpods finally returned to you they were quickly stuffed in your ears as you allowed alba the front seat and slipped into the back, swaying your head a little to the music bouncing around your head as eli drove home.

you were snapped back to attention as someone tapped your knee, pausing your music and pulling one of them out, alba having turned around from the front to smile at you as you were now stopped outside her house.

"would you want to get breakfast tomorrow?" your older sister asked careful not to come on a little too strong but it was hard not to miss the hopeful look in her eye.

"i have plans already." you declined as your sister nodded in understanding. "maybe another time then." she squeezed your knee quickly and kissed your mami's cheek goodbye, thanking her for driving before she was gone.

"are you going to get in the front nena or make me drive you home like a taxi?" eli caught your eye with raised brows making you grin, unbuckling yourself and moving to the front seat, your door closing and belt re-buckling before she drove off.

"i thought your friends were kidnapping you tomorrow night?" eli hinted subtly as you looked out the window and hummed. "they are." you confirmed with a small nod.

"do you have other breakfast plans then?" "no." you sighed, sensing some sort of lecture might follow.

"i'm not ready yet mami." you added on honestly, still trying to come to terms with it all and what you thought was best for you going forward now you had some time to process everything.

"fair enough fresa, take all the time you need. but know your hermana's do love you, very very much."

"this is nearly done, go choose something to watch." eli nodded as you moved off the stool you'd been sat on and headed toward the living room, clicking on the tv.

"something funny? a love story? action movie?" you called out as you flicked through the genre's. "mami do you have a pref-" you glanced toward her right as there was a loud clatter and your eyes widened.

"mami! estás bien?" you were by her side in an instant, the older woman clutching her chest and rapidly shaking her head as you panicked. "mierda!" you fumbled around in your pockets, pulling out your phone and calling for help.

you rattled off quickly what was happening, your anxiety sky rocketing as suddenly the older woman fell to the ground still clutching at her chest as the medical officer on the other end of the line calmly told you an ambulance was dispatched and talked you through what to do.

"mami? mami? mami!" you repeated, struggling to breathe yourself as suddenly the older womans eyes closed and she went limp and unresponsive. the operater encouraging you stay on the line and assuring the ambulance would be there any second now.

"i don't know if she's breathing!" you cried out, unsure how to check for a pulse as rapid knocks were heard at your door and you forced yourself away from eli's limp body, two paramedics barreling in the moment you unlocked the door.

the operator now hanging up a third paramedic gently assured you were doing all the right things and eli needed to go to hospital, promising you that she was still breathing as you nodded.

"is your papi here querida?" the paramedic asked softly as you watched them carefully load your mami onto a stretcher. "he's dead." you replied bluntly, panic peaking as the other two spoke so fast you couldn't understand but they were saying but you knew it was serious.

"venga, go get your shoes and you can ride with your mami in the ambulance." the older woman squeezed your shoulder with a kind smile, repeating the words and shaking you lightly when you remained rooted in spot watching them push the stretcher into the back of the ambulance.

your worry only continued when no one could really give you any answers, only repeating you would be at the hospital soon as they lowered an oxygen mask onto eli and spoke to one another in what felt like a second language over her head.

it was worse when you finally did arrive to the hospital, your mami wheeled off and out of sight as you panicked when you were informed you couldn't go with her and would need to sign it at the front desk and wait in emergency for further information.

"how old are you cariño?" the receptionist asked carefully when taking down your information. "seventeen." you replied, eyes straying every few seconds to the doors eli had been wheeled away into as if willing she would miraculously walk back out and all would be fine.

"you need to be over eighteen to be an emergency contact and sign the paperworker for your mami. is there anyone else who could come?" the lady asked as you sighed but nodded, knowing exactly who you needed to call as you excused yourself and pulled out your phone.

"alexia? algo malo sucedió, i need you."

alexia thanked the gods that she wasn't caught by police as she flew down the streets of barcelona going easily double the speed limit, barely saying two words to olga before she had her keys in hand and was sprinting out the door already on the phone to alba.

finding a park she locked her car and raced across the lot, chest tightening as she stepped into the emergency department, eyes scanning the waiting room before finally spotting you.

you'd always been shorter than her but sat on the chair in the waiting room drowned in a hoodie which was two sizes too big and staring off into space you looked positively tiny in alexia's mind.

you jolted and tensed up as arms were thrown around you, alexia noticing right away and letting go trying not to focus on how much it pained her that even in the current situation you couldn't hug her.

"you have to go fill in the admission paperwork at the front desk." you mumbled with a nod, refusing to even look her in the eye as you tucked your knees to your chest resting your chin on them.

spotting alba over your shoulder alexia caught her eye and stepped away toward the front desk leaving you with her, glancing repeatedly to the two of you every few seconds as she filled in the necessary documents.

"someone will be out later with more information." was the only answer she got when asking for an update on eli's condition, frustrated but knowing that now all you could all do was wait.

"hermanita what happened?" alexia crouched down in front of you as alba sat beside you, you shifted a little uncomfortably under the intensity of their stares but sighed.

"i don't know. mami was making dinner and everything was fine, i stepped away to find something for us to watch and i looked over when she dropped something and she was just grabbing at her chest-" you began to recount, your sisters hanging off your every word.

"-she couldn't speak she didn't even yell out or cry in pain or anything she was just silent but she looked terrified. then i called the ambulance and she fell down and her eyes closed and she went limp, i didn't know if she was breathing." you exhaled shakily and paused for a second before continuing.

"she didn't respond to anything i said or did she just laid there. and then the paramedics came and put her on a stretcher and we went in the ambulance and came here. then they wheeled her off back there and wouldn't tell me anything because i'm not eighteen." you puffed out air through your nose at that last part.

"they wouldn't tell me anything either, just said someone will be out with more information later." alexia sighed wearily, standing to her feet and sitting on your other side.

"oh fresa." alba started sympathetically, stretching an arm across your shoulders intending to draw you into her side but you shrugged her off. "please don't touch me." you muttered, your sisters sharing a concerned look over your head.

"hey nena we just-" alexia tried next, her hand which sat on your leg pushed away as you wordlessly stood and moved to a different row of chairs on the other side of the room sitting back down.

"just give her some space ale, she's clearly shaken up." alba stopped alexia where she stood to follow you. "even now she runs away like she's scared. mierda we're in the hospital!" alexia snapped as alba pulled her into a hug.

"she's not scared of you alexia she's just hurt, and we both know she has every right to be." alba reminded as the older girl exhaled and sunk back into her chair with a nod, both of them watching you cautiously as you seemed on another planet just looking off into space.

"segura?" around an hour later an official looking woman in scrubs and a clipboard called out, both of your sisters up and on their feet as you were quick to follow.

"daughters?" the woman clarified as you all nodded.

"your mami went into mild cardiac arrest, she's mostly stable but still out while we run some more tests to try and determine the cause. her heartbeat is quite irregular and she's having trouble breathing on her own so we've got her hooked up to a ventilator." the woman explained reading off her clipboard.

"can we see her?" alexia asked hopefully, deflating at the shake of head that followed. "she's in the coronary ward but she's being taken for some more tests soon. once we get the results of these initial ones she's just had someone will come speak to you, but all three of you don't need to be here." you frowned as that last sentence was clearly directed your way.

"gracias but we will all be staying." alexia stepped up protectively, the woman nodding before she stepped away and alexia rolled her eyes. "hey, have you eaten?" alba suddenly realised looking at you as you shook your head.

"vamos, the cafeteria should still be open." alba encouraged as you made no move to argue with her, tucking your hands into the pockets of your hoodie and nodding.

"go call olga. do you want a coffee?" alba checked as alexia nodded appreciatively, all three of you parting ways. you seemed lost in your own head as you arrived to the cafeteria, alba bumping you gently with her shoulder and nodding for you to pick something.

anxious and uptight you simply chose a sandwich, not really wanting to eat but knowing your sister well enough that if you didn't pick something she'd just pick for you.

"coffee?" alba offered as you shook your head, quickly paying for your sandwich before she could. "hey! i would have gotten that." your sister shoved you lightly as you shrugged, alba relieved when you didn't complain about the slight touch. "i have money." you replied dismissively, moving to take a seat while alba waited for their coffees.

it would seem you were hungrier than you realised as you polished off the sandwich in a few bites, finishing right as alba grabbed the coffees and you stood to follow her back to the waiting room, grateful she wasn't trying to push a conversation.

you took your seat again on the other side of the room to your sisters, missing the way their eyes raked over you with concern at how you stared blankly off into space, not a hint of emotion present in your features.

you of course were plagued with emotions, especially a growing anxiousness toward all the 'what ifs' which came with your mami's hospitalization and all the unknown details.

but determined to prove once and for all you weren't a baby anymore you'd bottled these feelings up, keeping them under lock and key in your own mind as you did your best not to let them show.

though as more time passed that anxiety grew and grew and grew and suddenly you couldn't seem to rid your brain of all the worse case scenarios racing around on repeat, sending your body into a sort of shock as you blocked out the world around you.

shaking your head and trying to zone back in you stood, needing a drink of some sorts and remembering having passed a vending machine on your way back from the cafeteria.

alexia watched you go with a small frown, alba having somehow fallen asleep in the hard chair next to her as the time was now nearing midnight and still they'd had no further news.

the overprotective older sister in her told her to call olga and have her come pick you up and take you to their home, though the slightly quieter but more rational side knew if she even suggested that it would only upset you and you'd refuse.

when a few minutes passed and you didn't return alexia grew a little worried, shaking a grumpy alba back awake and shoving half a cold coffee into her hand before following after you.

you glared at the vending machine in annoyance as again you tapped your phone to pay and punched in the numbers for the drink you wanted but it made no move to deliver it to you.

"vamos!" you shook it hoping that might help though to no avail as again nothing happened. trying another two times you were getting dangerously close to a breakdown as all of your bottled up emotions simmered on the surface and you gave the machine a hard kick.

finally the arm moved and grabbed the drink you wanted, but your eyes widened in disbelief as it seemed to die before it could drop into the awaiting chute, the entire machine going dark.

and that, that was what caused you to snap.

a string of curses left your mouth and hot tears welled up in the corner of your eyes as you kicked the machine over and over, missing alexia appear at the end of the hallway and race toward you.

"hey hey hey." you tensed as her arms grabbed your biceps and pulled you away, delivering one last hard kick to the machine before alexia had tugged you out of reach.

"get off!" you grunted though it came out as more of a choked up broken sob as alexia's heart dropped and despite the warning voice in the back of her head she refused to let go.

"alexia let go of me!" you cried out trying to pull away but your sister shook her head. "no." you weren't sure if it was the tone of her voice, your sheer exhaustion or the final overflow of the emotions which had been simmering for the last few hours but you gave in.

it was now alexia who tensed up in surprise as you suddenly turned in her arms and hugged her tightly, fists balling at her jumper as alexia relaxed and held you.

"está bien fresa, está bien. mami will be fine, everything will be fine." your sister cooed, hand rubbing small circles on your back as the other cradled your head which pressed into her shoulder.

a nurse walking past gave alexia a sympathetic smile which she returned, whispering assuring words in your ear and holding you tightly, no different than she would when you were upset and much younger.

after a few minutes you managed to calm yourself down a little, and realising who it was that was actively holding you had you pulling away and wiping your eyes with the corner of your sleeves.

"do you want to go for a walk?" alexia offered softly, and as much as the prospect of being alone with her wasn't ideal you really weren't up for returning to the silent stark white waiting room just yet so you nodded.

"wait." alexia held up a finger, glancing around to make sure no one was around before quite literally ramming her body shoulder first into the vending machine as your drink dropped down into the chute from the force.

"needed a footballers touch." your sister smiled handing it to you as you quietly thanked her. not really with any destination in mind the two of you started to wander, a comfortable distance between you as alexia ignored the urge to tuck you into her side like she would when you were younger.

"i do not think i have been in hospital this time of night since you broke your arm." alexia chanced a conversation, sending you a look which you met with a frown.

"i didn't break it alba broke it." you muttered with a slight huff causing a smile to curl onto your sisters lips at the memory.

you were eight years old and eli was working a night shift which left you in the care of both your older sisters for the evening.

showered and dinner had you'd all been watching a movie, dirty dancing, one you found incredibly boring and made a point to tell both your sisters this repeatedly throughout the entire film.

"he's strong!" you marveled as suddenly the main actor lifted his female counterpart into the air, holding her up easily and turning her around mid air. "pft thats easy!" alba dismissed with a scoff as you lifted your head from alexia's lap.

"you couldn't do it, chicken legs." you challenged as alba shot you a filthy glare which had you shrinking into your eldest sister who'd fallen asleep not long after the movie started, having trained twice today and gotten up early for a run.

"could too!" alba shot back as you shook your head. "could not." "could too!" "could not!" "could too!" "could not!"

"cállate por favor!" alexia interjected with a tired groan, eyes fluttering open and her hand moving to cover your mouth as you went to continue the argument.

"you are arguing with an eight year old?" alexia sighed at alba who rolled her eyes but ignored the question. "i could fresa. vamos, we will do it right now!" your middle sister stood and gestured for you to do the same as you wrenched alexia's hand off you.

"what are you both doing now? she should be in bed alba!"" alexia exhaled deeply, her own bed also calling her name. "bah! in a minute. go get a run up hermanita." alba ordered as you shrugged and jumped down from the couch.

"i do not even know what is happening and i know its a bad idea." alexia sighed rubbing her eyes with a shake of her head. "vale fresa, on my count!" alba encouraged readying herself as alexia watched on with a raised eyebrow.

"tres, dos, uno!" you sprinted on one, jumping as she grabbed you and indeed lifted you easily into the air. "muy bonito. the putellas hermanas everyone!" alexia's voice dripped with sarcasm as she clapped slowly with a roll of her eyes.

but what all three of you failed to miss was alba backing up dangerously close to the coffee table, alexia noticing just a millisecond too late.

"alba watch out for the-" the brunette started to warn before your sister made contact and tripped backwards. you hardly blinked then your body was dropping to the ground and a sickening crunch was heard.

"ay dios mio!" alba sat up and paled seeing your arm as you let out a scream, alexia dropping to her knees without a second thought and scooping you up. "get the car keys now!" she barked at alba who scrambled to her feet and raced off.

"hey hey hey fresa está bien, estás bien. don't cry nena don't cry!" alexia cooed, covering your eyes so you couldn't look down at your arm which was very clearly broken, your sobs muffled into her jumper as she sprinted out to the car, alba sliding into the drivers seat as alexia sat beside her still cradling you tightly in her arms.

"ale shouldn't she sit in the ba-" "drive alba! now!"

"she might have broke it but i'm the one who got in trouble for it!" alexia rolled her eyes with a small smile as you both turned around and headed back the way you came.

"i still was the worst off because it was my arm that was broken!" you reminded with a grunt. "hey you got a cast and jenni drew all over it, closest you got to having tattoos." alexia shrugged and you allowed yourself a small smile.

"and then you yelled at jenni and made her scribble over what she drew." you chuckled as alexia groaned. "because you were not going to school with detailed female anatomy on your arm." alexia sighed.

"it was educational!" "don't quote her! it was very inappropriate for an eight year old."

"that cast was so itchy it was the worst!" you sighed with a shake of your head. "then you threw a tantrum because it was white and not coloured." alexia teased lightly as you rolled your eyes.

"because liliana also broke her arm the week after and she got a red cast, and then everyone said she was faster than me." you frowned at the memory. "sí because red is the fastest colour?" alexia laughed beside you.

"obviously alexia, everybody knows that." you sighed as you both returned to the waiting room and at the tense atmosphere you clamped up again, falling silent and returning to your chair making your sister frown.

"anything?" alexia asked taking her own seat next to alba again. "she is done with tests for the night but still out of it, her breathing is better but her heart beat is still very irregular so they will monitor her closely." alba explained with a sigh, her eyes hovering over to you.

"anything?" her younger sister echoed the question back to alexia in regards to you now. "she had a slight meltdown but she didn't want to talk about it, got a hug out of her though and then we went for a walk and talked about when you broke her arm trying to do that stupid lift." alexia explained.

"and i proved i could do it!" alba defended as alexia gave her a side eye. "alba that is what you take from what i said?" the eldest putellas scoffed as alba shrugged, though before either girl could say anything the nurse from earlier reappeared and waved alexia over.

"you and your sisters should go home. you will not be able to see your mami until she is awake and more stable which will not be before tomorrow at least. she cannot afford anything to stress her out or affect her heart rate further until we have more answers on what caused the cardiac arrest." the nurse explained as alexia frowned but nodded.

"you are her emergency contact sí? we will call you once things change and you can all see your mami. but for now go home and rest, you cannot do anything else for her right now and she is in the best place being well looked after." the nurse encouraged before leaving again.

your eldest sister quickly filling alba in you were so zoned out you hadn't even seen her speak to the nurse, staring off into space as alexia took the seat beside you and bumped her shoulder into yours softly to gain your attention before filling you in.

"okay." you nodded quietly, glancing anxiously over your shoulder toward the doors where you'd last seen eli with a pained expression. "hey, they are right hermana there is nothing else we can do. you will come home with me and stay the night and we can go and see mami once she is awake." alexia's words had you shaking your head.

"its fine just take me home, i will be fine." you declined the offer firmly.

"i wasn't asking. you will stay with olga and i tonight and we can talk more about it tomorrow, its late and i think we all need some sleep. i will sleep better knowing you aren't in that house by yourself." alexia spoke softly but firmly, admittedly surprised when you gave in with a curt nod, making no move to argue.

"and you will call me as soon as you hear anything?" alba stressed as alexia sighed tiredly, unlocking her car for you to get into a little while later. "sí. as soon as i hear anything you will know!" alexia promised, drawing her younger sister into a hug before alba walked off to her own car and alexia slid into the drivers seat.

respecting that it didn't seem you were in any mood to talk alexia didn't try to make you, having already paid for her parking she slipped the ticket in and pulled out of the lot.

you watched the dimply lit streets of barcelona fly past in a blur, music filling the somewhat awkward tension in the car helping it to ease a little and before you knew it alexia was parking in the garage of her complex.

you exited the car and followed her into the elevator, still not a single word shared between either of you as your sister twirled her keys around on her finger and you both stepped out onto her floor.

alexia hadn't even turned the key in the door before it was swinging open, olga stood there with a sympathetic smile as you shuffled inside, wrapping your arms around yourself a little awkwardly as your sister kissed her girlfriend hello and closed the door.

"hermana do you want a shower? something to eat? drink?" alexia tried with a smile as you shook your head. "i'm tired." you hinted heavily, shifting from one foot to another and sending olga a small smile.

"vale, spare rooms all made up." alexia nodded behind you and with a quiet good night mumbled you were gone, door closing after you with a click as alexia seemed to deflate now you were no longer there.

"vamos mi amor, you look exhausted." olga encouraged softly, grabbing her girlfriends hand and alexia made no move to fight as she was pulled to her own bedroom, quickly changing and laying down in bed before filling olga in on everything.

"hey that sounds like some steps forward cariño? even just baby ones." the younger girl smiled softly as alexia hummed, the two finished speaking about eli and now moving onto you.

"and she came to your game, no?" olga continued as alexia shrugged. "because mami made her, and she'd rather talk to mapi than me." a slightly jealous pout curled onto her lips making her girlfriend chuckle and run a hand through her hair.

"she posted about going to the game? thats something." olga tried again as alexia gave her an odd look. "where? i did not see that." your sister frowned as olga grabbed her phone and clicked into instagram.

"see? shows she is not embarrassed to be at your game." olga showed your story as alexia's frown deepened and she was quick to grab her own phone from the nightstand.

"i don't see it?" your sister showed that your profile showed no story, comparing it side by side to olga's screen.

"amor what does this mean?" she pointed to the green trim around the edges of your story on olga's screen. "its on her close friends story." olga explained as alexia's eyes widened.

"she has a close friends story? why?" "a lot of people have them for privacy and stuff hermosa, especially teenagers." "privacy?" "sí, they might post stories that they do not want all their followers to be able to see so they have a close friends story where they can control who see's certain things." "and you....you are on her close friends." "sí, and lo siento mi amor but it looks like you are not."

"qué! i'm not going to show her stories to mami!" alexia scoffed as olga avoided her eyes. "why would she not want me on her close friends? i am a cool older sister!" alexia protested, clearly spiraling at this new information

"what? you want to say something, what?" alexia sat up a little and pressed her girlfriend who sighed. "querida. te quiero, mucho mucho mucho." olga started, grabbing alexia's hands in hers and kissing her knuckles.

"but you are...awkward ale. very very awkward!" olga winced as alexia's mouth formed a small o and she pulled her hands away. "no i am not! i play for barça, i go to fun events, i go to restaurants and bars and i travel and take nice photos. i take lots of photos of you all the time! i'm cool, i am!" alexia spiraled further as olga grabbed her hands again.

"you are thirty alexia, she is seventeen. i am sure its not personal! you are very cool amor, very cool." olga cooed in an attempt to soothe the blonde who scowled, crossing her arms and laying back down in bed.

"you are to your hermanita probably just...a little too old for her close friends story mi vida." "olga!"

you jolted upright in bed, body drenched in sweat and chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath, tucking your knees up to your chest and rocking slightly with your eyes closed.

you hadn't had a nightmare in years but the one you'd just awoken from after the day you'd had meant your entire body was rigid and coiled with a cocktail of anxiety and dread.

being in your older sisters house in a bed and room that wasn't yours was not helping in the slightest. as your eyes adjusted to the darkness you kicked off the unfamiliar sheets which felt sticky and foreign against your skin.

managing to slow your breathing down a little you found your throat was dry, stripping off your hoodie and quietly leaving your room. a quick glance down the hall showing alexia's bedroom light was off you made a beeline for the kitchen.

you checked a few different cupboards before finally finding the glasses, doing your best to be quiet as you filled it with water and chugged it down, not hearing the soft footsteps which followed yor own.

"hermana?" you jumped a foot in the air and just caught the now empty glass by your fingertips as you nearly dropped it, grabbing at your chest and bending over a little as alexia stepped more into view.

"don't do that!" you warned in a harsh whisper, filling up the glass again and stepping aside as alexia grabbed her own glass and did the same. "lo siento. why are you up?" your sister asked with a concerned frown as you pointed to the glass in your hand and took a seat at the counter.

"did you have a nightmare? you only used to get up for water in the middle of the night when you had a bad dream." alexia asked softly once a few minutes passed and you hadn't made a move to return to your room.

you stayed silent as alexia leaned on the counter, not wanting to push you but watching the look of internal termoil clear on your face as your hands gripped the glass sat in front of you.

"if mami died i'd be all alone."

your words caught alexia off guard, a horrible sinking gut wrenching heart crushing feeling settling in her stomach as neither of you moved or spoke a word for at least a minute.

then once she seemed to snap out of the trance she'd been sent into she was rounding the counter, the thump of her glass against the counter bringing you back down to earth too and before you could take a breath there were hands either side of your face.

"no, no no no no. fresa you would never ever ever be alone. i would not let that happen no matter what i promise. i love you mi hermana, far too much to ever let you be alone. i would do anything for you!" alexia whispered out, holding your face firmly in your hands and her heart ached more seeing the tears pool in the corner of your eyes.

"then why did you stop trying to show me that? i have felt alone for the last year alexia! i felt like i have only had mami for the last year!" you could barely get your words out without your voice cracking, alexias stomach plummeting.

"because i am stupid and selfish and i saw you having friends and a life and i assumed you didn't need me around as much which was so wrong. i stopped checking in, i stopped making an effort and i hurt you. it is my biggest regret fresa, and not a day will go by where i will not wish i could change what has happened but i can't!" alexia's own eyes bore into yours filled with remorse.

"i know you are grown up now, but you will always be mi baby hermana. the same baby i held when you were born, watched learn how to talk and walk and whose hand i held when i walked you to school, who would steal my clothes or hide my boots so i didn't have to go to training because you would miss me and you couldn't come with me." alexia rambled, too far gone now to stop herself from word vomiting.

"the same baby who copied everything i did and snuck into my bed at night because you didn't like to sleep alone, who i would carry to the car when you fell asleep under the table at christmas dinner, who i tried to force to like football and accidentally knocked your front teeth out when i hit you in the face with the ball." alexia exhaled and finally stopped to take a breath before looking like she was going to continue.

"alexia." you sighed and pulled her hands away from your face.

"i know you and alba are trying, but it is really hard for me to see it as sincere when i tried for so long to tell you how i felt and neither of you listened." you spoke calmly, having swallowed the tears which wanted to burst forward.

"it is late and i am tired and it has been a really long night, i can't talk about this with you right now." you stood to your feet and went to leave, your sister grabbing your wrist gently as you paused.

"nena you would never be alone, vale? never." her lips ghosted your forehead but you were grateful she didn't pull you in for a hug, worried that would be the thing to tip you over the edge still actively swallowing back tears.

nodding at her words she let you go and the both of you returned back to your rooms though sleep didn't grace either you nor your older sister, both laying now wide awake and staring at the ceiling.

and alexia meant every word, she would fix this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

four

#woso community #woso #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso blurbs #🍓☀️

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likeumeanit9497 · 3 months ago

Text

loyalty test | c.s. |

chris sturniolo x fem! reader

summary: y/n's boyfriend, luke, notices how she stares at his roommate, chris. when they have an argument about it, y/n tells him that he's just reading into things. but when she finds herself completely alone with chris, will she be able to prove her loyalty?

warnings: smut; cheating (don't do this pls); unprotected p in v (don't do this either); oral (m/f receiving); hair pulling; dirty talk; toxic relationships; 18+

notes: IM BACK YAY!!!! y'all have no idea how happy i am to be writing again i was literally dying for the past couple of months. i got back about a week ago but i've been genuinely so jet lagged that i couldn't finish this one shot. but im finally starting to feel better so here i am at 2am finally posting. i hope y'all enjoy this one (ps it should go without saying that i do NOT condone cheating on ur partners EVER!!! this is fiction okay). love uuuuuu

pps im half asleep posting this so even though i made an attempt at proof reading, im sure this is not my best work so pls try to ignore any grammar errors u may come across ill fix them all eventually <3

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

“How many shots am I pouring here?” Asked my boyfriend Luke as I watched him begin to place rows of shot glasses on his kitchen counter with a bottle of tequila in his hand before his teammates all began flooding in his direction happily awaiting their drinks. From my place on the couch, I was content watching them all celebrate their big win while I nursed one or two seltzers. The night was originally supposed to be just me and Luke having dinner and watching a movie, but the adrenaline from the win along with pleas from various teammates had suddenly turned the night into one where Luke’s apartment was flooded with sweaty men and various bottles of liquor.

Even though I had been looking forward to a quiet evening with my boyfriend of six months, I was happy to see him so happy and of course wanted him to be able to celebrate with everyone. So I watched with a smile as they all lifted their shot glasses in the air, chanted in a borderline cultish way, and took their shots. “Shit, it’s getting late. We should call the Ubers soon if we want to get into the club.” Luke announced after glancing at his watch, to which the other guys all mumbled in agreement.

I watched as Luke walked over to my place on the couch, putting his hands on my shoulders and leaning towards me. “Club?” I asked, raising a quizzical eyebrow as this was the first time I was hearing about these plans for the night. Luke smirked before responding. “You don’t mind if we go out for a little bit right? The other guys were really wanting to check that new place out that I’ve been going to lately, and as team captain I kinda have to go.” I stayed silent, trying to figure out a way to answer that wouldn’t make me sound like a needy girlfriend, when my attention was suddenly grabbed by the door behind Luke opening. From that room came Luke’s roommate, Chris, and I watched over Luke’s shoulder as he ruffled his hair, heading in the direction of the bustling kitchen.

My eyes followed his movements as he walked, stopping every few seconds to greet a handful of Luke’s teammates on his way. He was wearing pyjamas, and truly looked like he had just woken up from hibernation, but he gave the room warm smiles as his eyes travelled across it before finally landing on me. He stared at mine and Luke’s place for a brief moment, his eyes shifting between me on the couch and Luke’s large frame above me, and seemed curious, but after a moment went back to doing whatever he needed to do in the kitchen.

I continued to watch as he grabbed a drink from the fridge, and listened as some of the guys tried to convince him to go out with them. He kept shaking his head, a strong smile plastered across his face, and I felt my cheeks grow hot when he lifted his shirt slightly to scratch his stomach; exposing a few inches of skin and the low band of his boxers.

Just then, I was shaken — quite literally — out of my trance by Luke’s hand on my shoulder. “Y/n! Hello!” My eyes immediately shot to his, and I felt red hot shame cover my face as anger consumed his. “The fuck was that?” He kept his voice low, but his tone was so menacing that I felt the hair raise on the back of my neck. I stuttered, trying to come up with some excuse, before he lifted me off of the couch and practically dragged me into his bedroom. As soon as the door was shut behind us, he repeated himself. “What the fuck was that Y/n.” I stood tentatively in the middle of his room, trying desperately to find the words. “I-I just hadn’t realized that Chris was home, I was just shocked I guess?” I knew my excuse was weak — and my execution was even weaker — and that knowledge was confirmed by Luke rolling his eyes.

“Sure,” He scoffed. “I’m not stupid, Y/n. I notice it literally every single time you and him are in the same room. You stare at him, you laugh at everything he says, and you always find some excuse to be close to him.” His words embarrassed me, and I stared down at my feet in shame because I knew they were true. “It’s not like that Luke I just-” He cut off my excuse. “It doesn’t take a fucking rocket scientist to know that he’s a good looking guy, but you are mine. It’s fuckin embarrassing catching you looking at him all the time.” He stopped pacing around the room and stormed up to me, causing me to flinch slightly.

“You have anything you wanna say?” His breath was hot against my ashamed face, and I couldn’t bear to look up at him. “I-I’m sorry Luke.” My voice was barely above a whisper and I felt tears well up in my eyes. We stood there in silence for a short while, the only sound his heaving breaths and the muffled conversations from the guys in the kitchen. “I’m going. Not sure when I’ll be back, but do your best to behave when I’m gone.” His words were clipped, and he quickly exited his bedroom without so much as hugging me.

As soon as I heard his door shut behind him, I dissolved into tears of guilt. I couldn’t be upset at him for being so angry with me, because everything that he had accused me of was true. I knew that my attraction to Chris was beyond the simple acknowledgement that he was a good looking person, and that wasn’t fair to Luke. But I never meant for it to become something so noticeable, and I felt more ashamed than I had ever been before. I perched onto the edge of Luke’s bed as I attempted to regain my composure, listening to the excited chatter of the guys on the other side of the door as they prepared to head out to the club.

I hated that Luke was going out while being angry at me, and I hated even more that I had the audacity to be worried about his behaviour with other girls while he was out. Luke was a pretty decent guy, but when he was angry he had a tendency to do or say things that were really hurtful. The thought of this made me sob even harder. “God, I need a drink.” I said aloud to the empty room, and I fought with my emotions as I tried to straighten myself up.

After a few moments, the entire apartment grew silent as the guys must have all left for the club. In my solitude, I was able to catch my breath and stop the tears from flowing before getting back on my feet. Glancing at my reflection in the mirror, I wiped the dried tears from my face and fixed my running mascara before heading towards the bedroom door. As I walked towards the kitchen, I was stopped in my tracks by the sight of Chris sitting at the kitchen island.

Even after the horrible conversation I had just had with Luke, I felt my stomach flip at the sight of his loose t-shirt clad back and his messy curls. Frustrated with myself, I rolled my eyes and took a deep breath before continuing in his direction to grab a drink. “Hey Y/n.” He said once he saw me, a warm smile covering his face. “Hey Chris.” I replied, forcing myself to avoid looking at him by searching aimlessly for another seltzer.

“Everything okay?” He asked, and I felt myself tense at his question as I finally used common sense and opened the fridge to find a cold drink. “Yeah all good. Luke and I just had a little bit of an argument is all.” I replied, trying to keep my voice light hearted and hoping he hadn’t noticed my puffy eyes or runny nose. “Ah, I see.” He replied as I bent over to reach into the back of the fridge where I saw the last seltzer. “Would that argument have anything to do with him asking me to make a move on you to see if you would stay loyal?” His question shocked me so severely that I dropped the seltzer on the ground, causing it to explode its carbonated contents all over the kitchen floor.

“Shit!” I exclaimed, picking up the cracked can and throwing it into the sink. Turning back around to face the mess, I found Chris with a roll of paper towel wiping up the liquid. “I got it, thank you.” I said, getting down onto my knees to begin cleaning up. Chris handed me the paper towel before standing up and leaning his frame against the counter. The room was silent as I compulsively wiped away at the floor, using the task as a distraction from the question Chris had just asked me. I felt his gaze on me from above, and all it did was add fuel to the fire that was burning hazardously strong inside of me.

After some time, I realized that the floor couldn’t get much cleaner so I had to put an end to my procrastination and face the conversation. “So, uh,” I hesitantly looked up at Chris through my lashes, feeling more ashamed than ever before. “What did Luke say to you exactly?” I watched as he shrugged. “He really didn’t say much. He just pulled me to the side right before they all headed out and asked me to ‘test you’.” He added air quotes to the end of his sentence, and I felt a small sizzle of anger in my core at Luke’s audacity.

I stood up and grabbed the half finished bottle of tequila from the counter, pouring it into a cup and adding a bit of pineapple juice before drinking the whole thing in one sip. At this, Chris raised an eyebrow. “You wanna tell me what’s going on?” He asked, and I felt nerves flood my body. “Give me a second.” I replied, grabbing the tequila again but this time taking one, two, three sips directly from the bottle. I winced at the burn that traveled from my throat down to my stomach, and Chris waited in silence as I squeezed my eyes shut; taking deep breaths in preparation.

“Long story short,” I began, turning my body so that I was now facing Chris, “Luke confronted me tonight because he caught me staring at you.” I watched as Chris’ eyes widened slightly before going back to normal. “I told him that I just hadn’t known that you were home so I was just surprised to see you, but he didn’t believe me, and it sort of caused this big fight between us.” I explained, feeling my nerves flutter around my stomach; shocked that I was able to tell him what had happened. Chris stayed silent, his eyes searching my face but staying completely unreadable and I felt like my chest might explode from nerves.

“I mean, obviously he’s just being insecure but-” My rambling was cut off then by Chris. “Is he?” His question caught me off guard, and my eyes snapped to his as I felt my face fall. A small smirk toyed with the corner of his mouth as I stared at him blankly, unsure of what I could even say. After a moment, I blinked quickly and scoffed. “Ah I see, this is the test.” I chuckled and reached once again for the tequila before taking a few more sips; this interaction being far too much for me.

“No, it was a real question, I swear.” Chris repositioned his body so that he was now facing me head on, and took a step closer to me. “You think I haven’t noticed you looking at me? And I’m not just talking about tonight. I notice, Y/n.” Once again, all of my words failed me and I could only stare blankly at his questioning figure. “And don’t think I forgot about that one night.” I gasped and instinctively squeezed my eyes shut, already knowing where he was going with this.

“Just out there, when we were sharing that cigarette,” He nudged his head in the direction of the sliding glass doors in the living room that led to their large balcony, “We were drunk, but I remember you blowing the smoke into my mouth.” I felt him take another step closer to me; the heat radiating from his body causing my own to shudder. “Your lips touched mine, Y/n. I can still remember how soft they were.” His voice seemed to drop an octave, and he was whispering now as he spoke of that night five months ago, when I met him for the first time.

Luke had wanted me to meet his friends, so a big group of us had all gone to a bar together. Although I don’t usually make it a habit, I got extremely drunk that night thanks to the nerves that came from meeting a large group of new people, and ended up wanting to go home early. Luke was still having a good time and didn’t want to leave the bar with me, so Chris had offered to take me back to their apartment where Luke could meet us later. Once the two of us had made it back to the apartment, I asked Chris to sit with me while I smoked out on the balcony.

We talked for a while, learning about each others’ lives, while we shared a few cigarettes. What he was now talking about had happened, and I truly don’t know what came over me when I had done it, but I had spent the past five months trying to pretend that it was just a dream. But now, standing alone in the kitchen, we were talking about it for the first time since it happened, and I couldn’t ignore the flutter in my stomach that his hushed tone caused.

As if reading my mind, he continued. “I know we haven’t spoken about it, and maybe we should have sooner. But we haven’t been alone together once since then.” I stared blankly as he took yet another step towards me; closing the space between us almost entirely. My heart was beating so hard that I was sure that he could hear it, but once he placed a gentle hand on my hip I was pulled back to reality; immediately taking a few steps away from him while shaking my head.

“This is crazy,” I made a weak attempt at laughter as I backed away from him, “I don’t know how you expect me to fail this ‘test’ that Luke put you up to after literally telling me all about it.” I suddenly grew slightly hot with anger after reminding myself of Luke’s request to him, and the alcohol that was beginning to flood my veins wasn’t making it any easier to get over. I turned away from Chris, busying myself by starting to throw away the empty beer bottles, when he continued.

“I never told you that I agreed to do it.”

I froze, his words causing my fuzzy brain to turn onto high alert. Slowly, I turned to face him, more confused than ever before. He was leaning casually against the countertop still, with a small smirk across his lips. Noticing the confusion laced through my features, he shrugged before expanding. “I told him I don’t do that kind of shit, that if there was an issue between you two you’d have to work it out between yourselves.” None of his explanation was making things make sense, if anything I was just becoming more and more confused.

“Then what was all that just a minute ago?” I asked weakly, nervous to hear his explanation. Again, there was that dangerous smirk that I would have almost missed if my eyes weren’t glued to him in desperation for things to make sense. “That was real.” He replied simply, and my jaw almost dropped in utter shock. “Chris, he’s your roommate. You guys are friends, aren’t you?” My stomach was in knots, and my cheeks felt hot. He shook his head solemnly, “He’s not a good guy, Y/n.” As if I could read his mind, I knew what he meant without him even having to say anything else. But still, he continued.

“Why do you think he never ever asks you to go out with him to clubs anymore?” Chris asked, his voice taking on a gentle tone as if that would minimize the hurt of what I knew was coming. Weakly, I shrugged, too afraid to ask him to continue but hoping beyond anything else that he would. He sighed. “Apparently there’s this bottle girl that works at that new club that they’ve been going to lately.” My stomach dropped, but somehow I wasn’t surprised. Painfully, Chris continued. “I overheard him talking about her to one of the guys a few weeks ago. Something about going to her place after she finished her shift that night.”

At that, a single tear fell down my cheek. Not out of shock, or even sadness, but anger. “I’m sorry, Y/n.” Chris said at nearly a whisper, and I simply nodded my head; jaw clenched to keep myself from losing my cool. “W-why didn’t you say anything to me before?” I finally managed to ask, crossing my arms over my chest to hide my shaking hands. That same look of shame he had before confessing to me clouded his face once again. “I didn’t want to be the one to hurt you.” One more lonely tear fell down my cheek, and I angrily swiped it away.

“I see how much you do for him around here, and it’s obvious that you love him.” He took a step towards me, tentatively, before continuing. “But I also see the way he treats you, and you don’t deserve that.” He paused for a moment, seemingly trying to find his next words. “I honestly never really liked the guy. Sure we’re roommates, but only out of convenience. Once I overheard that conversation a few weeks ago, I started genuinely hating the guy. So, when he asked me to test you tonight, it actually gave me a good idea.”

He paused for a moment, and once again I felt my heart racing in anticipation. His usually confident expression had shifted into one of hesitation, and it did nothing to help calm my nerves. “Chris…” I started, trying to get him to continue. I watched as he took a deep breath before speaking once again. “Okay. I’m going to suggest something to you, but it’s only a suggestion. If you don’t want to do it, we can 100% pretend that this conversation never happened, and you can decide how you’re going to handle all of this in your own way.” I stayed silent, trying to wait as patiently as possible for him to get to his point.

“I think you should get back at him.” He said, finally. Still confused, I raised an eyebrow. “Get back at him? How?” I asked, to which he stayed silent. In his silence, I found my answer. “You think I should…with you?” Even to my own ears, my voice sounded weak. He stayed silent, not granting me a response with words but the small glint in his blue eyes told me enough. “Do you really think that’s the most ethical option?” I asked, trying to use what little logic I had available in my brain fizzling not just from the alcohol now but from the very situation I was finding myself in.

He shrugged again. “I know guys like him. There’s no point in confronting him about it, because you know he’s just gonna lie to your face. And if you break up with him — which I hope you do, by the way — he’s really not going to care as much as he should.” Trying to ignore the twinge of hurt that his last point caused, I nodded slowly; beginning to understand. “But if you do him the way he’s been doing you, that’s gonna fuck him up. And the best part is he doesn’t even have any right to be pissed off, because all you’re doing is exactly what he’s been doing to you.” As he spoke, I nodded my head; absorbing everything he said and recognizing it as truth.

“I mean I get it but…don’t you think us doing it would be a bad idea?” I used my hand to gesture between us. “Considering him and I literally just fought about this very situation less than an hour ago?” His smirk returned at this. “That’s my point. No other scenario has the potential to hurt him the way that ours does. You want to get back at him? I’m your guy.” A laugh that sounded almost painful fell from my lips at this, but as his face suddenly grew serious, so did mine.

“Plus,” He began, closing the space between us so that our bodies were nearly touching. I stared at him, fallen completely mute, as he brought his thumb to my lower lip — brushing it ever so lightly against my pouted mouth — before he continued, “I haven’t stopped thinking about this mouth since you left me on the balcony that night.” His voice was nearly at a whisper, and it didn’t take anymore than that for my walls to crash down.

Without hesitation, I pressed my lips to his. The kiss was soft, tentative, and gentle; our unsure mouths slowly moving against one another a physical representation of the wavering confidence in my decision. But the taste of his skin was addictive, and the feeling of his firm grasp on my waist caused my body to grow warm. So with each second, my cautious movements turned more and more desperate, and when his tongue brushed against my lower lip I opened my mouth to grant it entrance. I melted into his strong hands like putty, so when he lifted me by my ass with ease and placed me on the counter, my legs wrapped around his waist like they belonged there.

Each part of me he touched lit on fire in his trail, and as his mouth dropped lazily to my neck where he began nibbling and biting the thin skin below my ear, the very existence of Luke seemed to disappear from my thoughts — with only one word repeatedly crossing my mind: Chris, Chris, Chris.

With my spinning head, I almost didn’t notice myself being gently pushed back so that I was lying against the cold surface of the counter. Chris’ mouth was still sucking indulgently against my neck, but I felt his strong hands run up and down my bare legs; stopping just below the hemline of my shorts. I felt his hands begin to toy with my front button, and I removed my hands from the base of his curls to help him pull them down; desperate to feel his hands on my skin again.

Once the material of my shorts were dropped to the floor, I felt Chris tauntingly play with the lace of my underwear as his mouth slowly moved down my neck towards my chest. Wearing only a big t-shirt, I used my idle hands to pull the material up over my chest; exposing my breasts to Chris who immediately took one into his mouth. I moaned at the sensation of his warm tongue swirling around my nipple, and felt a dangerous shudder go down my spine once he groaned against my skin.

His hands were still flirting with my underwear, and the almost-but-not-quite contact with my core was making me go almost delirious, so in my impatience I grabbed his hand and pressed his long fingers against the place I needed him the most. The contact caused a moan to fall from my lips just as a pleased grunt fell from his. “So wet for me already, hmm?” His voice had dropped nearly a whole octave through his arousal, and his words caused even more heat to flood to my core.

In one quick motion, he slipped my thong down my legs and let it fall to the floor as his hand began exploring my slippery folds. A shocked moan burst through my lips from the relief of his touch finally against my bare heat, and as he began to rub circles into my clit, I began losing myself to the ripples of pleasure radiating from my centre down to my limbs.

His travelling mouth continued its journey from my tits down my stomach, leaving small kisses along the way. I watched in awe as his head descended along my body, feeling an unknown sensation of excitement from my view as he got closer and closer to where his fingers continued to work me. Once he reached the crest of my pelvis, he grabbed each of my legs and positioned them on his shoulders before leaning down and admiring my dripping core.

“W-what are you doing?” I asked, my voice shaking partially from nerves but mostly from the sheer adrenaline that was coursing through my veins. He dragged his eyes from my cunt up to meet my face and gave me a soft smile. “Gonna make you feel good. Is that okay with you?” His voice was still hoarse from arousal, but there was a playful tone in it that calmed my heaving chest. “Luke never…” I trailed off my sentence and his eyebrows flew up in surprise. “Never?” He asked, seeming to be completely shocked, and I shook my head. “He said he thinks it’s gross.” I confessed, suddenly feeling more exposed by my words than I had felt by my nakedness. At this, Chris’ eyes somehow darkened and softened simultaneously. “He doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about.” He replied, bending down further so that he could place a soft kiss against my clit, “There’s nothing gross about this; about you.”

His words were said with such sincerity, such certainty, that I felt a small flutter in my chest. However, this feeling was abruptly interrupted by a much stronger feeling — a feeling of indescribable pleasure — once Chris attached his mouth to my clit. As he feverishly sucked and twirled his tongue expertly around my bundle of nerves, my vision became blurry and all I could see was a flash of bright light. When my vision returned, the sight before me caused the pleasure I was feeling to intensify so severely that, had my hips not been held firmly in place, I would have slipped to the floor as aimlessly as my underwear had just moments before.

There, right in the centre of my legs, was Chris. His generally messy curls even more disheveled than normal framing his face in the perfect way that it does; his already sharp cheekbones accentuated by his sucking; his bright pink lips wrapped tightly around me making me feel things I had never felt before; and his piercing blue eyes staring right up at me — seeming to take in every facial expression, every gasp, every moan that I made.

Overwhelmed, my hands flew to his hair where I held on for dear life; wanting to pull his mouth away but absolutely needing it to keep going. The build up of pressure in the pit of my stomach was almost too much to handle, and as I trembled around his face he maintained every ounce of pressure; every movement of his performed with expert precision. “C-Chris. Oh god!” I couldn’t stop myself from crying out, as the pleasure was causing my mind to scramble. “Just like that, please.” I heard myself continue, shocked even in the moment as I had never once said those words and truly meant it.

Chris released a soft moan against my core at my words, and the vibration from it was enough to get me to the point of no return. “Gonna c-cum, p-please don’t stop.” I begged desperately, and he didn’t. Like a machine, his movements never wavered — he never changed his rhythm, nor did he try any new tricks. The consistency of his swirling tongue threw me into a shocking tidal wave of pleasure, and with shaking legs and an arched back I practically screamed out his name over and over; riding out my high with no thoughts in my mind but him.

Only when my moans subsided and my grip on his hair loosened did Chris detach his mouth from my nerves before climbing back up my body. Once he reached my face, he placed a gentle kiss on my lips; the slightly sweet taste of my orgasm still coating his lips. “See,” He began, looking deep into my eyes, “Nothing gross about that. As a matter of fact, I could do that all day.” I felt my stomach do a flip and my core once again flood with a new wave of arousal from his words, and I allowed him to kiss me once more; this one much deeper than the last.

As we kissed, Chris helped me sit up, and then finally stand up on shaky legs. Once I was stable, he pulled my t-shirt over my head and let it fall to the floor with the rest of my clothing before doing the same with his own. With his top half now fully exposed, I allowed myself to take a moment to admire his body — his creamy smooth skin; slight muscle; sprinkle of hair below his belly button — as he started untying the drawstring on his pants.

He removed his pyjamas and boxers in one swift motion, and my eyes immediately fell to his hard member. Its size was otherworldly, and the veins that were wrapped around it caused my mouth to water. Mindlessly, I dropped to my knees in front of him and took his cock in my hand, pumping it a few times and relishing in the weight of it against my palm. I took a moment to glance up at him, and I found him staring down at me as his chest rose and fell rapidly; his eyes almost glazed over in arousal.

Turning my attention back to his member, I leaned forward and ran my tongue up his slit to collect the bead of pre-cum that had been gleaning in the light. As my tongue connected to his skin, I felt, more than heard, him intake a sharp breath. Eager to make him feel even a fraction as good as he made me feel, I attached my mouth to his tip and began bobbing my head up and down; swirling my tongue around the base of his tip as I did. Immediately, Chris’ hands found my hair and he began collecting it into a ponytail to pull it away from my face. Small moans left his mouth occasionally, and each time it did I felt my core grow wetter and wetter.

I brought my right hand up to the base of his shaft, where I began pumping it up and down in rhythm with my mouth. “Oh fuck.” He groaned out, gripping onto the countertop behind me with his free hand. With each bob of my head and pump of my hand, Chris released small grunts; and I relished in the fact that he was feeling so good because of me. I continued at the same pace, trying to stay focused on what I was doing, but his pleasure was adding to my pleasure, and I selfishly pulled away from him — his cock springing out of my mouth with a pop — and looked up at him through my eyelashes.

“Need more of you Chris.” I admitted, my arousal overtaking any urge I had to be coy in that moment. At my confession, Chris’ blue eyes darkened, and he didn’t hesitate before lifting me from the ground and pressing my back against the counter. His lips found mine once again, and the taste of both of our arousals melted into one as our tongues danced together; creating an addicting combination that made me ache.

A gasp fell from my lips as I was suddenly turned around, my bare chest now pressing against the cold stone counter. Chris had one hand pressed to the small of my back, where he rubbed small comforting circles as I felt his other hand guide the tip of his cock towards my opening. “You know,” Chris leaned forward towards my ear, “I always had a feeling that you wanted me too,” He let just the very tip of his member rest in my opening, “But if I knew you needed me the way I’ve been needing you, I would have fucked you much sooner.”

At that, Chris slid his cock into me, its girth stretching out my walls unforgivingly. Both of us released groans as he bottomed out, and he paused for a moment to allow me to adjust to his size as I fought against my trembling legs. After a brief moment, I felt Chris grab both of my hips before he began to thrust into me. His movements were slow and careful, as if he knew I was struggling to take his size. “You’re so tight baby.” He breathed, and I released a soft moan from his words.

He continued to move at a slow but deep pace, and with each thrust I felt my walls envelope his member with grateful acceptance. I started to feel my body relax more and more, and began to feel the earliest signs of pressure in my lower stomach once again. With each of his movements, I adjusted to him more, and I suddenly needed more. “Harder, please C-Chris.” I cried out softly, and without a moment’s hesitation he began to pick up the pace. Still driving his cock deep into me, his hips began to slam against mine at a much faster rate; causing my body to flood with even more arousal.

“You like that baby?” He asked through his grunts, and I was only able to moan in response; too fucked out to respond with words as I was constantly slammed against the countertop. The kitchen was flooded with the slick sounds of my arousal, and it was the perfect harmony to the verbal sounds of pleasure that fell from our tongues. I felt one of Chris’ hands snake up my back to the base of my neck before he grabbed a fistful of my hair; using his grip on it to pull me up off of the counter. With my back now pressed tightly against his front, he turned my head to the side so that — through blurry vision — I was able to see him and he was able to see me.

His glossed over eyes were focused on my o-shaped mouth, and he just stared at me for what felt like centuries as he continued to drive himself into me. The intensity of the moment was so startling that, if I wasn’t approaching my second orgasm of the night, I would have been brought back down to earth. But at that moment, a strong wave of pleasure shot through my body and my eyes rolled to the back of my head. “You look so pretty, taking my cock so good Y/n. You feeling good?” I was barely able to nod my head in response as the pressure in my core began to feel overwhelming. “G-gonna cum again.” I managed to squeak out through high pitched moans that I hardly recognized as my own.

“Me too baby. Just hold on for me, wanna cum together.” His words were coming out strained just as mine were, and I felt his rhythm begin to grow choppier as his orgasm approached. Screwing my eyes shut, I fought against the raging urge to release all over him right then and there; wanting so badly to do what he said to do and wait for him. Luckily, it wasn’t long before I was interrupted from my focused state by a loud grunt behind me. “Fuck, gonna cum. Where do you want me Y/n?”

His words unraveled the last string of self-control I had, and I felt my legs begin to shake beneath me as I struggled to answer. “In m-me. Oh god, please.” I cried out just as my second orgasm tore through me; this one even stronger than the first. As the waves rolled through me and I released a plethora of guttural moans, I felt Chris’ hand on my jaw; grabbing my attention. As I opened my eyes to meet with his, I felt his movements stop almost entirely. His eyes had a far-away look and his jaw was clenched, but still he stared deep into my half-lidded eyes as I felt his member pulse deep in my core — painting my walls white with his cum.

Once all of our movements stopped and our breathing returned close to normal, I winced as he slowly pulled his length out of me. He turned me around gently, and I was met with a lazy smile and a soft kiss on my forehead. Still recovering, I was at a loss for words; and so we stayed silent as he first helped me get dressed and then dressed himself.

“Well,” He finally started, “Do you feel better?” I stared at him for a moment, confused by what he meant, before I at last remembered the events that had unfolded not long before. I released a soft chuckle as I reached for a nearby red solo cup to fill with water. “Would you think I’m a bad person if I told you that I actually forgot about the whole point of this until just now?” He laughed as I chugged the water before refilling the glass and handing it to him. “No, I wouldn’t. As a matter of fact I’d think that made this whole thing even better.” He replied before bringing the glass to his lips.

I laughed as I reached for my phone, turning it on and checking my notifications. “Oh shit.” My face fell and my stomach tied itself in a knot. “Luke texted me ten minutes ago saying that the club was a bust and he’s on his way back.” Even in my immediate panic, I scoffed. “That probably means she wasn’t working tonight, huh?” I felt Chris walk up behind me and peer over my shoulder at the text message. “You okay?” He placed a gentle hand on the small of my back, and I cursed myself once I felt my heart flutter at his comforting gesture. I nodded. “More than okay, honestly.” I turned around to face him, and before I could stop myself I reached up and kissed him softly. “But he’s gonna be back any minute, and we can’t be standing in the middle of the kitchen looking freshly fucked. Let’s move.”

𓆩♡𓆪

As promised, a few minutes later I heard the keys rattle at the front door — announcing Luke’s arrival. I was standing in the kitchen still — busying myself with washing the dirty glasses and wiping the sticky residue from the liquor, and possibly our cum, off of the counter — while Chris sat on the couch in the living room; pretending to be in the middle of a movie.

Once he walked through the door, Luke paused there a moment to take in the scene in front of him. He looked first at me, then at Chris; then me, then Chris. His expression was unreadable, like it usually was when he was drunk, and it did nothing to ease my racing heart. My mouth dried out, completely fearful that he knew exactly what had taken place just moments before right where I was standing. Did I have a hickey? Did the apartment smell like sex? Did my guilty face give it all away?

Finally, Luke moved from his place at the front door and walked right by me; heading directly for Chris on the couch. Still pretending to be busy drying and polishing the glassware, I secretly watched as they spoke to each other. With the tv still playing and their decision to speak in hushed tones, I was unable to hear what they were saying. But, I watched Chris as he shook his head no before Luke threw his hands up in exacerbation. They continued to speak to each other for a few more moments, Luke seeming to grow more and more upset and Chris maintaining his superb level of calm, before Luke finally mumbled “You fucking suck” and stormed away towards his room.

Once his door was shut with him safely behind it, my eyes immediately fell back to Chris, who was already staring at me with that cheeky smirk back on his face. Wanting desperately to know exactly what he said but too afraid to go over and speak to him about it, I stared desperately at Chris; hoping that he would give me some sort of inclination that all was good. Then, like he was reading my mind, he sent me a sharp wink. Immediately, my whole body relaxed and I released a deep breath that I hadn’t even known I was holding.

Test passed.

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #sturniolo #the sturniolos #the sturniolo triplets

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s-awturn · 2 months ago

Text

Day Off || F1 Grid

cw: nothing but superficiality, cuteness, intimate but not obscene moments, sharing moments, mention of gossip. Just pilots resting

starring: LH44, CS55, CL16, LN4, OP81, MV1

a/n: I had this written a couple of days ago, but Tumblr just "ate" the only file I had and I lost everything. I was so mad I didn't even want to write anymore, but damn, This is too good a HC to waste, so okay, let's try again (remembering to save periodically this time 🫡

LEWIS HAMILTON:

You and Lewis had created a reading list to complete throughout the year, you bet there were about a hundred books on the list, titles ranging from classic literature, biographies, poems, and contemporary literature. Books that you and Lewis wanted to read together or the books you thought the other should read.

So it was common for the two of you to spend the pilot's day off reading in bed while listening to blues or jazz on the speakers. You read together, wrote reviews of the books you read and discussed them.

He was reading Percy Jackson and the Mark of Athena and you were reading Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka.

"So? What did you think?" He asked, marking the page he was on, Lewis had just started the last chapter and you had already finished reading.

"He does go through a metamorphosis and it's extremely unpleasant to imagine, but I've read more unpleasant books," you confessed, putting the book on the bedside table. "Four stars, and you?"

He snorted "Piper is so boring, damn she only knows how to think about Jason and how she doesn't like being the daughter of Aphrodite, so boring"

"God, yes! I don't like her either... Anyway, I'll wait for you to finish, and then we can choose the next one."

"Sure, honey," he kissed her temple and returned to reading just as Etta James began to sing "At Last." You settled into it, petting Roscoe as he lay beside you. This is the best way to enjoy your day off.

CARLOS SAINZ:

Carlos was at a stage where he wanted you to learn golf to play with him, after all the sport was a tradition for him and the Spaniard wanted you to be part of it, but you were terrible. You were really bad at golf, but that didn't make he want to teach you any less.

And well, you didn't like golf either, you didn't understand the sport, the scoring was weird, there were at least half a dozen different clubs and you couldn't even cheer.

But at least the clothes were cute and the cars were cool.

"Let's go, amor, I'll teach you," he said, going to pick you up in the golf cart. Lando, who was accompanying them this time, leaned his body on the golf club, waiting.

"Carlos, I'm terrible at this, you know," you grumbled, taking the bat he offered you. Carlos was a persevering man, you had to admit. He stood behind you, teaching you again how to perform the shot, instructing you to separate your legs and take a deep breath.

"I bet you five bucks she'll throw the ball in the lake"

"Shut up, Lando," you both said.

You followed his instructions and hit the ball...

...that fell into the lake.

"I knew"

"Shut up, Lando"

CHARLES LECLERC:

A day off for Charles meant you would get to visit his favorite spots, from a famous restaurant to a little coffee shop tucked away in a city alley. Sometimes he would take you to the south of France to see some chateau, other times he would just rent a chalet for you to be together in privacy, and you had lost count of how many times they had gone to Italy to see the vineyards and villas on the border with Monaco.

This time, you were preparing for a slightly longer itinerary, you had suggested visiting the Grace Kelly exhibit before heading to the cottage he had rented for the weekend.

"Got everything you need, mon cher?" He asked, wrapping his arms around her waist in a sweet hug.

"It depends, I know we're going to see the Grace Kelly exhibit, but I have no idea where we're going after, you say a cottage and I don't know whether to bring a bikini or coats" you mumbled, looking at her handbag.

"Take both just in case, you know spring can have unpredictable weather"

"Are you saying that so you don't give me a hint about where we're going?" You turned in his arms, facing the pilot. "That's not fair."

"You'll like it, mon ange, I promise"

"At least tell me if it's still in Monaco..." You tried to persuade him, sliding your nails lovingly along his chin, making the Monegasque shiver and let out a heavy breath.

"You're not taking me to the siren song, pretty girl." He gave you a quick kiss and a light slap on your ass before leaving. "We'll leave in fifteen minutes."

LANDO NORRIS:

Lando's downtime with you was spent playing games, you thought it was counterproductive to fuel his competitiveness when he should have been resting, but this routine of games with you made him much calmer and more relaxed when he returned to work. Ironic? Yes, but it worked.

You two played anything, Monopoly, Naval Battle, Game of Life, Detective, W.A.R, Uno, even checkers or cards. Any game was fair game.

The problem is that you got really competitive, your friends even gave up trying to play with you because the game turned into a battlefield.

"You lowlife cheater, did you really throw a +4 at your fiancée?!" You yelled at him, Lando laughed and blew you a kiss before dodging the pillow you threw at him.

"You know how things work, honey. Just because I love you doesn't mean I'm going to let you beat me."

"This will come back!" You bought the four cards he forced you to. "I really hate you."

"And you are the love of my life"

"Die, you jerk," you snapped and he laughed.

Lando could feel all the tension leaving his shoulders, playing with you always made him relax, no matter how aggressive and passionate you became in the game.

OSCAR PIASTRI:

Considering that Oscar was always traveling and there were few really usable pages in his schedule, any time the two of you could have together should be taken full advantage of, and For both of them, there's nothing better than an afternoon of movies.

You two had created a list of movies on Letterboxd and the chosen one of the day would be Interstellar.

Oscar was making popcorn while you were arranging the blankets and pillows on the couch, so what if it was the height of summer in Australia? There in the apartment, the air conditioning was hovering below fifteen degrees, keeping the room at a favorable climate for you and your boyfriend to cuddle while watching astronauts lost in space.

"I thought you were going to choose Anatomy of a Fall," he muttered, placing the food on the coffee table, popcorn with cheese, assorted snacks, chocolates and ice cream and of course, lemon soda.

"I was dubious, but you know I love any movie that has Matthew McConaughey in it," you said, getting under the covers, accompanied by Oscar, "and of course, The movie's soundtrack is perfect, I use it to study..."

"Have you watched it?"

"No, I was waiting for you, but I discovered the playlist... I'll send you the link, you'll love it"

He hummed in agreement and you pressed play on the movie, Many times you paused the film to comment on something or express your theories. It made the movie session better, Oscar didn't mind listening to you talk about it and you loved his theories.

It was, without a doubt, the best way to enjoy the break.

MAX VERSTAPPEN:

He would rather be playing, sleeping or, I don't know, watering the plants, but you always dragged him to a skin care session. You spread different creams on his face, plucked some extra hairs from his eyebrows, trimmed his beard.

As much as he denied it, Max learned to enjoy it, being taken care of by you was one of his guilty pleasures. And it all got better when you started gossiping without any trace of shame. He talked about what went on behind the scenes in F1 and you shared news about work and your condominium.

"I'm still sad that Logan was let go, he had a lot of future," you said, sliding the massage stone across his face, spreading the serum into his skin.

"He's a good kid, unfortunately he wasn't ready for Formula One yet, he came in too early and couldn't adapt well... I hope he can find his place" he grumbled, sighing at the gentle massage on his cheekbones.

"Yes... Williams was very ungrateful to him and I won't elaborate on that" you said a little bitterly and Max laughed, you always positioned yourself as a defender of the poor and oppressed.

"Yes... I won't elaborate on that either... It's better"

You both were silent until you clicked your tongue.

"Uh, I almost forgot to tell you, last week there was a horrible fight at the condominium meeting.

He opened his curious eyes "You can tell me everything, dear"

"The neighbor at 1165 caught her husband with the building manager and the building manager's husband in her bed"

"What the fuck?! Are you kidding?!"

You laughed, putting away the massage stone and sliding your fingers firmly over Max's face "you had to see it, she put together a PowerPoint with photos and screenshots of the conversations"

Max laughed out loud "damn, I wish I had seen..."

"It was a real fight, they argued and everything, it was really fun to watch"

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"I will definitely go to the next condo meeting"

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#f1 imagine #f1 #sawturn #lewis hamilton x reader #carlos sainz x reader #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri x reader #max verstappen x reader #f1 headcanons #f1 fanfic #f1 x y/n

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endless-ineffabilities · 5 months ago

Text

backhand stroke (18+)

tennis coach!Aemond x tennis player!reader

Rivals on and off the court, things come to a head between the two when Aemond crosses the line and sabotages the reader's relationship.

themes : challengers inspired, Art Donaldson is featured <3, a lot of cussing, smut!!! (minors dn fckin i), the reader and Aemond hate each other (but if they hate each other why are they fcking), reader may or may not be a cheating bastard, Aemond has a glass eye + he calls the reader ace

a/n : initially I was about to write a fic where Aemond and the reader are actual rivals themselves, but quickly remembered how tennis works 💀 so in this one, Aemond is a coach and reader is a player 🎾

word count : 8k ▪︎ masterlist

The Westeros Open is the biggest and most prestigious tennis tournament in the country.

Anyone who wants to be someone in the sport aims to qualify for it.

For you, it is everything. You have devoted your entire life to tennis. It started as something that stemmed from your parents' neglect. Rich folks who signed their young daughter up for extensive tennis lessons just so they can be free of her and galivant off to wherever.

You had sat there, staring at your shiny, brand-new white tennis shoes. Holding your unused top-of-the-line racket. Hair kept away from your face with a headband that still smelled like the store.

Mostly left alone by your family, you gathered your strength, and dragged your weak eight-year-old legs across the tennis court day in and day out.

Through the years, you found yourself. You found home, and you gave everything you had to make sure you would never lose it.

As luck would have it, you found romance along the way in Art Donaldson, who became your coach after your previous one decided to quit. He used to be a player, until he fell out of love with the game, and chose to coach up and coming players instead.

You had been wary of getting involved with him, but eventually you couldn’t resist. He turned out to be the perfect boyfriend - caring, sweet, attentive to your every need. He became your partner in both tennis and in life. Truly, you couldn’t want for anything else.

You shouldn’t.

So why does it feel like there is something missing?

And why is that void one that only Aemond Targaryen can fill?

The gigantic poster propped up in the inner courtyard of the country club lets everyone know that your next qualifying match in the Westeros Open is against none other than Helaena Targaryen.

Your image looms up to around twenty feet, with Helaena’s lithe figure on the other side. The perfectionist in you can’t help but scrutinise the details in your expression and your form. Was that really what you looked like mid-serve? You laugh dryly, feeling silly at your misdirected concern.

You like Helaena, and she’s always been cordial to you outside of your matches. The issue lies with her more brash and calculating brother and coach.

Something - or rather someone - shuffles behind you. Close enough that the hairs on the back of your neck stand on attention.

"I wish I could say that you look good up there, but we did once promise not to lie to each other.”

Think of the devil and he shall appear. You don't have to turn around to know who it is.

Aemond fucking Targaryen. Once at his prime, known for his freely expressing his passion and rage on the court, earning him the title 'the bad boy of tennis'. It was this drive, this relentlessness, that propelled his game. Unfortunately, it also served to be his downfall. After a few years as the sport's #1 male player, his career came to an end after an off-court altercation with an opponent that took his eye.

Now he is the coach of one of your top rivals and upcoming match opponent, his sister Helaena.

Which is why it should come as no surprise to you that he has made it his mission to get under your skin, with all his unwarranted flirty remarks, constant staring, and how he tirelessly interacts with everything you post on social media.

It used to be tame, by his standards anyway, with things like, ‘You need to work on that backhand’ or ‘I’m guessing Donaldson doesn’t train you well enough.’

But then the messages took a different turn. You once posted a picture of you in a fancy, revealing gown when you attended the annual gala, and he responded with, ‘It’s easy to see that all your training has paid off, ace.’

You chocked it all up to playful aggression. He’s just trying to get you to lower your guard, and distract you. You knew better than to look too much into the apparent interest he gives you.

He is notorious for being a playboy, after all. Dirty blonde hair perfectly tousled, designer tracksuits he wears with such snobbishness, a presence that can command an entire room. You’ve grown to heavily dislike the seemingly permanent smug sneer on his lips, and how he sometimes treats others like they’re nothing but gum stuck on the soles of his fancy tennis shoes.

A handsome rogue who possesses a lot of talent and who is aware of his status as a hot commodity can be dangerous indeed. If he can say that Helaena Targaryen’s best opponent is nothing but another notch on his bedpost, then he will never let that live down.

More importantly, you are already spoken for. Aemond knows this - not that he cares - but whatever he thinks about your relationship doesn’t matter.

“Aemond.” You don’t turn to face him, continuing to scrutinise the gigantic poster. “Is that the best you got?”

He shrugs, positioning himself right in your line of sight, clearly demanding more attention. “You don’t just look good. You look good enough to fucking eat, ace. Too bad about the shitty attitude.”

Hot then cold, nice then nasty. Aemond will never change. Rolling your eyes, you say, “I thought I told you not to call me that. Shouldn’t you be somewhere else training your sister? She’s gonna need it.”

He steps closer, invading your space. You look him directly in the eye like you’re squaring up with an opponent. This has always been your dynamic. Neither one backing down, neither one ever really dealing a blow.

Just constant dizzying electricity.

Sooner or later, it will all come to a head. Whether it will be your fault or his, the jury is still out on that.

“Oh, I’m sure she will,” he patronises, his deep blue almost violet eye sparkling. On the opposite was his glass eye, only adding to his intimidating nature. He hadn’t opted for one that resembled his real eye, but rather a hazy white apparatus, making him appear ghoulish, almost ghostlike. Nestled in his left eye socket, framed by a faded maroon gash, it made him look every bit like the charismatic rogue of tennis that he is known to be. “Shouldn’t you be somewhere receiving instruction from Donaldson? Not that you’ll get much out of it.”

“Art and I are on top of our training, not that it’s any of your damn business. You should concern yourself with your sister’s game.”

“If only that were actually true, ace, but unfortunately I believe that your sweet Art wastes too much of his fucking time being on top of you.”

“Fuck off, Targaryen,” you respond, trying to push the allure of his scent out of your mind. Pungent cologne and cigarette smoke, a blend that you’ve come to associate only with him. “Stay out of my business, and quit messaging me.”

“You like how we talk.”

“Trust me, I don’t.”

“Does Donaldson know?” Fully aware that Art has never had a liking for him, he knows that will hit a nerve.

Your face falls, like you’ve been caught in the act. Even though you've done nothing wrong. Occasionally caving in and responding to Aemond’s messages surely isn’t crossing the line. What started out as a couple of offhand fuck offs from your end turned into actually sharing private jokes about the other matches and training and - heavens forbid - small talk about the goddamn weather.

You’ve come to know that his favourite colour is green. Not the neon of a tennis ball, but a bluish-tinted pine.

Not that it matters.

Encounters such as this one also don’t mean anything. Never mind however much you find him attractive. Who wouldn’t? You have eyes, and you’re only human. Nothing more to it.

Never mind how, some nights, in what can only be construed as momentary states of delirium, you have imagined him in Art’s place.

Never mind just how much he gets under your skin, like no one else can, and how you can’t admit to yourself that you might actually like it.

Oh, you might actually be making yourself sick at all these thoughts.

“There’s nothing for him to know.” You step to the side, indicating that you want to walk away. But he has you cornered and you both know it.

He smirks, “Keep telling yourself that, ace. But you can’t deny - ” He steps close again. He suddenly tilts your face toward him with one hand, but you shake your head and his fingers lose their hold. “ - this. Us.”

Damn him. And damn the shiver that just ran up your spine.

You stand still, entranced by the look he’s giving you. Trick or not, Aemond sure does have a way of looking at you as if he sees you for who you really are. Not the tennis prodigy. Not the public personality. You remain a shell of that broken kid that poured everything she had into this sport, much like he had, only to come out the other end still not whole, still searching for something inexplicably out of reach. And he sees just that - just you.

You feel like Art holds you up on a pedestal, not seeing the flaws that make you who you are. But you’ve always been happy to play the perfect girlfriend.

Until Aemond.

But he’s too much. Too forward, too brash, too intoxicating. You can never know what he’s going to do next. You can’t like him. You have to be certain that you don’t.

But then again… love and hate have always been two sides of the same coin.

He whispers, clearly pleased with the effect he has on you, “Match point, ace.”

Match point. You could have him. He could have you. He makes it evident that the next move is all yours. “Don’t go out of bounds, Targaryen,” you warn him lowly.

“What if I want to?”

You have him. He has you.

And you… have Art.

Clearing your throat, and your head, you finally step back. His head snaps up to follow you, disappointment evident on his face.

“See you around, Targaryen.” You spin on your heel, walking away, immediately feeling lighter. Emptier, feeling like your body begs to drift closer to him, two equal magnets.

“Ace,” he calls to you, walking after you when you don’t turn around. “Wait a second,” he reappears right in front of you, effectively halting your stride.

You grumble hastily, “God, you really have a space issue, don’t you, Aemond?”

“Meet me in the courtyard gardens,” he says, a new intensity lacing his voice, “tonight. After dinner. Or whenever you can. Just - ”

“No.”

“Come on, ace.” His tone is insistent, with no trace of his usual bravado and cockiness. “I think… I need to tell you something.”

Part of you wants to cave in, and just agree to whatever it is that he’s proposing, but that nagging voice in the back of your mind is adamant that it would not be right. What would Art think? But what if Aemond truly just wants to tell you something?

“So tell me now.”

His jaw clenches hard, and you can’t help but admire the taut edges of his face. “No, I want to do this, just you and me. When we’ll be alone - ”

“Aemond - ” you start to shake your head, trying hard to come up with a refusal that he will actually register.

“Donaldson doesn’t need to know,” he almost pleads. “This is between you and me, ace. You just have to hear me out.”

You take a deep breath, unable to understand just what it is he means. “If it’s something I have to hide from my boyfriend, then it’s not gonna happen. You have to see just how messed up that is, Targaryen.”

Either he can’t hear you, or he just does not want to accept your response. “I’ll wait for you. Right around midnight then, ace? Should give you plenty of time to sneak out.”

Before you can say no, again, he hastily plants a kiss on your cheek. Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation, in surprise and perhaps pleasure at the softness of his lips, and when you open them once more, he is no longer flooding your space.

You spy him entering a set of glass doors, leaving you there stunned.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Aemond kicks at another pebble, the sound momentarily breaking the silence in the gardens.

He’d checked his watch just seconds before, the face of it spitting on what remains of his eagerness.

Twelve fucking fifteen.

Either you just got held up by your whiney rat-faced boyfriend, or you’re a no-show.

Aemond doesn’t know which one is worse. He did not know what he was expecting in the first place. Did he actually think that you would do as he says? You never were good at following orders, much less those from someone whom you likely view as something of a nuisance.

Is that really what you see him as? Isn’t there something more at play here?

Something that keeps Aemond up at night, when he can no longer deny that it is not because he dislikes you that you plague his thoughts, but because he admires you. He does admire you, he sees no shame in admitting that.

As a tennis player. As a competitor. Anyone who feigns ignorance at your insane potential would just be lying to themselves.

As a woman? A… partner? No. It has to be no, doesn’t it? You hate him, you make it clear now and again. You disagree with him, challenge his views, point out his flaws. Surely, he can’t be attracted to you in a way that commands his heart. You are beautiful, he doesn’t deny this, but so were the dozens of other girls he had run through.

Each time he watches you perform your signature backhand stroke, with that sensual growl escaping your lips and the lewd grace with which your body bends, Aemond feels his sanity slipping away.

You drive him crazy, but he can't be crazy about you.

The only reason he asked you to meet him, is because he wants to propose that he replace Art as your coach. Helaena has expressed that she wants to retire, and focus on some other creative pursuits. Something insignificant to Aemond, that he can’t remember what it was exactly. A pottery business? A fucking flower shop? He doesn’t care to know.

It’s perfect, he thinks, because your game is superior anyway. It’s what first got his attention, and now he can take part in your process. He can direct you, shape you. He can do so much better than Art Donaldson, and he’s sure you know this too.

Maybe then you might actually open up to him the way you opened up to Art. With your absence tonight, it dawns on him that he might actually have to resort to other measures. Did he seriously think he would be able to simply reason with you about this?

He sits for another half-hour on a bench nestled among the rose bushes. Surrounded by flowers of deep scarlet, a maroon he distinctly remembers as being your favourite colour. He fools himself into believing that he’s using the time to craft a plan for what’s to come, and not that he’s wasting it on the hope that you might emerge from the tall hedges, out of breath and eyes glinting eager to find him.

Well, you played your hand. Now he knows what he has to do.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

You wake up groggy the following morning, having tossed and turned the entire night, thinking about Aemond.

Had he been out there, waiting for you? Your mind came up with the different possibilities of what he has to say. Or if he had nothing to say at all, and it was all just another ruse.

You told yourself that you didn’t want to meet up with him, but you had an alibi prepared. One of your old tennis club mates agreed to cover for you and say that you were having drinks together, just in case Art ever checks up.

But as you were about to deliver the excuse, Art had said something about you and him not getting to spend as much quality time anymore. The past few weeks have been occupied with nothing but tennis, and though it’s a shared activity that you both value, he wanted to stay in for the night with you. He ordered room service, downloaded two films that were on your watchlist, and whispered sweet nothings in your ear until you eventually gave up on meeting Aemond.

It can wait, whatever it is.

Besides, isn’t this the right thing to do? Did you seriously consider having a midnight rendezvous with the guy who you claim to dislike the most? Someone who encourages you to keep secrets from your boyfriend? What good could possibly come out of that?

With a heaving sigh, you push all thoughts of last night from your mind. There are bigger things at hand. The biggest tennis tournament of the year, for one.

You make your way to the dining hall of your hotel. Art had woken up before you, pressing a loving kiss to your cheek and explaining how he had to discuss some matters with your physical team. He wore the skin of a tennis coach as perfectly as that of a boyfriend.

And here you are, regretting that you were unable to meet up with another man the previous night.

The art deco layout of the lobby extends into the spacious dining hall, the interior of the hotel filled with geometric patterns and rich jewel tones. You once bid Aemond guess what your favourite interior design was, and he got it in two tries, complete with a spiel of how it reflects your personality. Art, on the other hand, had been adamant that your favourite was minimalist. That was the first time you realised that his perspective of you was different from Aemond’s.

You hadn’t yet reconciled with who is more accurate, lest it shine a light on something deeper.

The hostess is cheerful and full of pep as she leads you to your table. You know it’s coming - she’ll ask you for a picture in just a moment, and you’re proven right when she reaches in her pocket and her phone materialises inch by inch. She seems shy to ask, ready to turn on her heel with a stiff smile if you refuse, so you do your best to be encouraging.

When the photo is taken and she finally lowers her phone, you spy someone out in the distance and you make it out to be none other than your boyfriend. Leaning by the outdoor terrace, appearing to be speaking to another person you can’t yet make out, their face obscured by the decorative shrubbery scattered across the area.

You walk to the side to get a better view of who it is. That tall figure, clad in a black tracksuit… a familiar head of blonde hair… and the unmistakable cut of his jawline. Realisation sets in. Art is speaking to Aemond.

Your stomach sinks, the thought of breakfast no longer enticing. Frozen in the middle of the dining hall, you begin to attract the attention of others.

Aemond turns his head, perfectly timed for his gaze to meet yours. Like something out of a grim movie, your anxiety spikes as his smug smirk materialises in slow motion.

If there ever were a match at hand between you two, that smirk makes it clear that he has won it.

Art follows his gaze, also meeting yours, but without any trace of satisfaction. He looks at you accusingly. You shake your head at him, but you already know.

This is not going to end well.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

“Is it true?”

You had wordlessly followed Art back to your hotel suite, the air around you thick with dread and anticipation.

“What did Aemond say?” You stand in front of him as he calmly sits by the window, as if you’re on the trial stand. You just might be.

“Guess,” Art spits mockingly. “Why don’t you tell me? You seem to know him quite well.” You bristle at his tone. He’s never spoken to you like this before.

“Whatever he told you, it’s not what it looks like, okay? You know Aemond. He likes to mess around with people, especially us.”

Art shakes his head in disbelief, “He even showed me some of your messages. Some of them you must have sent - what, at 3 or 4 in the fucking morning? When you’re lying next to me in bed? Not getting a lot of sleep apparently. It must be why you’re not on top of your game.”

He’s not playing fair, and you deserve this.

“There’s nothing going on between us,” you say through gritted teeth, making the statement sound as firm as possible, because it’s not just Art you’re attempting to convince. You want to believe it too.

“He’s said some things about me.”

“And I defended you.”

“Not well enough,” he shakes his head. “It sounded almost normal for you. Spewing bullshit to each other.”

“It’s just… it’s all just banter.” God, you sound so terrible. “Riling each other up to get into the mindset before matches.”

“All that… all that, I can kind of understand. It’s the other things. The intimate things that get on my nerves.”

“What - ” You can’t form the proper response to that.

“I missed talking to you, he once said. To which you replied that you do too.”

“That’s nothing.”

“You said that he inspired you.”

“That’s… that… he’s a great talent,” you stammer, as the statements he throws worsen. “He always has been. Even you can’t deny that.”

The argument goes on for an uncomfortable length of time, with Art reminding you of things that you and Aemond had apparently messaged each other, and you trying to play them off as insignificant.

Gradually, you convince Art that Aemond is just a thorn in your side. That Aemond was just overplaying the messages to get under his skin. That letting this break your relationship would be giving Aemond what he wants.

But everything he said - the messages he brought back to the surface, the encounters that were brought up - made you realise the depth of your involvement with Aemond.

You are fooling yourself, just as much as you are fooling Art.

He finally stands, heading towards the door. “I’ve spoken to our physical team. Meet us at the gym in 15.”

“Art.”

He halts, but he doesn’t turn to face you. You’re worried about what you’ll see in his face if he does.

“Are we okay?” you ask.

He turns to the side, and you catch a glimpse of the man you love, his once blithe demeanour reduced to a brief, forced smile. He nods once, and you sag in relief. When he is finally out the door, you collapse onto the bed and press your knuckles to your eyes.

You feel it all at once.

Anger. Frustration. That fear of inevitability coming to fruition. This was bound to happen and a part of you knew it was coming.

Aemond screwed you over, and it’s high time you put an end to everything.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

The gardens. Midnight.

The message had been sent. The last one you will ever send to Aemond Targaryen if things go as planned.

You have it rehearsed and perfected in your mind - how you will give him a piece of your mind, how you will tell him off and tell him to fuck off for good.

As long as you think of Art… As long as you don’t lose yourself, then…

“You’re lucky I’m not standing you up, Ace. Not like what you did to me.” The bastard has appeared directly behind you, as per his custom, so close you can feel his breath on the nape of your neck.

You immediately turn to face him, and he stands calmly in his signature black tracksuit, his lips curled in their usual manner. “I never agreed to meet you that night.”

His smile is derisive, the sight of it sharp and cruel under the moonlight. “I thought we had sort of a code of honour, you and I. That we’d never lie to each other. Never let the other person down.”

“Honour?” you say mockingly. “I call bullshit. Trying to ruin my relationship… is that part of it?”

He looks away, shaking his head at your accusation. “I only did what you don’t have the fucking guts to do. Your relationship with Donaldson was ruined the moment we…” He trails off, brows furrowing. His gaze meets yours, revealing the truth that sits underneath his mask of arrogance. One that only you are allowed to see. He appears to take on a different smile this time, softer and less pronounced. The curses you want to hurl get caught in your throat when he looks to your lips and hums faintly to himself, almost as if he’s forgotten that you are in the middle of an argument.

You take a step back, and it shakes him out of his reverie. It shakes the both of you out of it.

“Well? Let’s fucking hear it then.” You raise your arms in a gesture, egging him on.

“Hear what?” he says, having the gall to be confused.

“What did you want to tell me that night? Tell me now, because you’ll never get the chance again.”

He straightens, getting his thoughts in order. He completely forgot about that issue, and talking is increasingly becoming the last thing he wants to do right now. He wants to put his lips to better use. Something more worthwhile. “Helaena’s retiring,” he finally decides on saying, “and I think I should be your coach.”

You’re dumbfounded for a moment, his proposition whirring in your head. It makes sense, it does. He just gets you. But then again…

“That’s rich,” you reply. “Do you think I would ever give up Art? He’s always been my coach and he’s damn good at it.”

“You’re not compatible,” he counters, “in the court and out of it.”

“You don’t know that.”

“He doesn’t see you,” he affirms. He would never lie to you, and he isn’t about to start now. He repeats, “He doesn’t see you, but I do.”

His words strike true, and it feels as if he’s just pulled the rug from underneath you, and you’re falling, falling…

Right into his arms. And the impact is jarring, because it’s real.

“We can’t.” It comes out as a hoarse whisper, a reflection of your weakening restraint.

“Yes we can, ace.” He takes a step closer, and he lifts his hand as if on instinct, reaching for your face. But he’s frozen, unsure of how far he can toe the line that already lies fragile between you. “It should be you and me.”

Your eyes follow his movements, because you know you want him to give in and hold you. To touch your face. To kiss you.

And it’s wrong. It’s all wrong.

“I have to go.” Your voice carries no emotion. You avert your gaze at the last second and catch the defeat that flashes across his face. It should come as a surprise that it pains you to see him like this, but then again, you see him as he sees you. You always have. Which renders your next words among the most painful to come out of your mouth. “We can’t do this anymore. Art already doesn’t trust me, and if this goes on, it’s only going to make things worse. I can’t talk to you - ”

“No.”

“- and I won’t be responding to anything- ”

“Stop fucking talking.” His anger is fledgling, rising to the surface. There is no way he will calmly accept these terms. “I said no, ace.”

“It’s… it’s the right thing to do,” you murmur, still unable to look at him. “I’m sure I’ll see you around. We run in the same circles. But we can’t be… us.”

“Forget it,” he seethes, trying to catch your eyes, and growling low when you don’t relent. “Forget him, ace. Or do whatever the fuck you want. But not this, I’m not having this.”

You exhale, having gotten the worst of it out of your chest. It’s over now. But it’s not a relief that you feel. It’s remorse.

“Goodbye, Aemond.” With that, you finally take him in once more, and one glance is enough to shatter your resolve. His heightened ill temper shines clearly across his distinguished features. Under the midnight moon, he resembles a fallen angel, long dark blonde lashes casting shadows on his cheekbones. His shadowy, glass eye strangely adding to the appeal.

Beautiful. And just not yours.

One last, lingering look - then you walk away. The silence is deafening, and you feel numb all over. Your knuckles are taut at your sides, fingernails digging in your palms to keep those pesky, errant tears at bay. You’ve suffered defeat before, but this is much worse, because it’s coming solely from your own hand. How easily you give him up, someone who was never yours, and how badly it stings.

“No,” you hear him say again, and you pray he shuts up so you can keep walking.

He doesn’t. He repeats the word - no - over and over like some mantra under his breath. One second you feel nothing. Nothing at all. But then the wind whooshes around you and you’re being spun around to face him.

And then, his lips claim yours, and you feel everything.

Sounds come rushing back to you. His ragged panting against your lips, the pads of his fingertips kneading the back of your head, the wet smacking of his mouth on your own. The empty pit in your stomach is filled with those clichéd butterflies. More so when one of his hands travels down to grasp your waist and press your body against his.

“Aem - ” Your mind catches up to you, and you try to say his name to get him to pause, but he slides his tongue past your teeth.

“Shut up and kiss me, ace.” He breaks free for but a second, then hungrily kisses you again. You let him. You give in completely.

“Mmm, Aemond.” Your hands reach up to cradle his face and he takes that as an opportunity to pull back and openly admire you.

“You’re my ace,” he professes, connecting his forehead to yours. “And I’m not fucking losing you.”

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

You rush through the lobby of the hotel, hand in hand and giggling like schoolchildren as you duck your heads so as not to get recognised by the night concierge.

With reckless abandon, your entwined bodies stumble into his suite, which just happens to be on the floor below yours. You once thought you would have to be inebriated beyond belief to surrender to a sin like this, and in a way you are. You’re high off of him - Aemond in his entirety, six feet of lean muscle, notorious foul-mouthed one-eyed libertine.

“Fuck, ace.” He has his arms wrapped around you from behind, and he nips at your exposed neck. His touch roams and finds the mounds of your breasts, kneading mindlessly over your shirt. The sound that reverberates from his throat is carnal, and you feel it echo through your whole body. It drives you to press your ass against him, taking full notice of his hardness straining from his sweatpants.

Feeling mischievous, you do it again, gripping his arms to anchor yourself while grinding against his cock.

“Foul play,” he whispers against your neck, “you fucking minx.”

“There are no rules now.” You face him, running a finger along his jawline as you walk backward and he follows suit. Stopping at the edge of his bed, you strip out of your shirt, careful to keep your eyes locked on his the whole time.

The movement is too slow for Aemond, and he desperately needs more. He pushes you onto the mattress and climbs on top of you. He slides your sweatpants off your legs, then lets his hand drag from your ankle to your inner thigh. He promptly undresses, graceless and in a rush, until all his clothes are left in a heap on the carpet.

His cock stands on attention, taut and goddamn long. You feel an ache below that compels you to rub your legs together, but he beats you to it and slides your underwear right off. “I’ve always wanted to taste you,” he croons. “Bet you taste so sweet.”

You take your bra off and you’re finally left completely bare. He spreads your legs and positions himself in between. He uses one hand to squeeze your breast and the other to keep your legs propped wide open.

His eye meets yours, before he settles in, lowering his head until he’s breathing cool air onto your pussy. “Match point, ace.”

You have him. He has you.

When Aemond’s tongue plunges deep into your throbbing core, swirling inside like he wants to consume you whole, you have to bite your tongue to hold back a scream.

He knows what he’s doing, of course he does, and he’s so fucking good.

“Yes - yes - keep going, baby, fuck - ” you moan, words breathy and irregular.

He sticks two fingers into your wetness, using it to spread you wider, leveraging his tongue ever deeper. In and out they go, faster than the fuck, fuck, fucks coming out of your mouth in blissful sputters.

He suddenly stops, a guttural hmm echoing from his lips, and you look down to see his lips coated in a mixture of his spit and your pre cum. “Not so fast, ace,” he taunts. “You’ll come when I say.”

You prop yourself up on your elbows, still widespread and exposed to him. “What, are you coaching me through it?”

He hums in affirmative and leans in to kiss you, juices still dripping from his chin.

“You gonna follow my orders, ace?” he asks, and your mind spirals at how utterly lewd it sounds.

“Wouldn’t you like that, Targaryen?” You let out another moan, biting your lip when he hungrily sucks on your breast. “Let’s see what you got first.”

He smiles at your playful instigation. It’s always come natural, this riffing back and forth. But this midnight dalliance - he wants it to be honest. He needs you to realise how much he wants you.

“Yes, ma’am.” He gets on his knees, a hand braced on each of your thighs, his hardened cock at the ready.

“Ma’am?” you breathe, a laugh dying in your throat when you his tip prods at your entrance.

“I can be agreeable under the right circumstances, ace.” He torments you by pushing his cock in but an inch.

“Fuck me, Aemond,” you cuss in frustration, then, literally, “Fuck me. Please.”

His eyes take you in, one darkened blue and one ghostly pale glass. “Well, since you asked so nicely,” he says. “You good for it, ace?” He nods once, referring to whether a condom is needed and you take the hint right away.

“Yeah,” you confirm. “Perks of having a top-of-the-line physio team. They hook you up on other things too.” Your cocky-athlete way of stating that you are on the pill.

The lights are dim in the room, but you clearly see the resolve settle on Aemond’s face. He parts his lips like he wants to say something more, and you tilt your head questioningly.

He feels the need to make some sort of declaration. Something true. It doesn’t seem right to say those damned three words at this moment, no matter how much he means them. You could think he’s trying to trick you in order to get what he wants. A good lay and nothing else. So he doesn’t say anything and lets the silence speak for itself. If you know him as you claim to, then you’ll see.

You’ll see just how much this means to him.

You nod, and it’s an unspoken plea.

He thrusts his cock into you with such force, stretching your walls with a sudden and blinding ache, until he is buried to the hilt. He reaches and cradles your face with one hand, the other keeping your ankle propped by his shoulder.

“Move, Aem.” You buck your hips against him, his cock squelching in and out again.

“Yeah, baby?” He complies with his hips in response. “That feel good?”

“Yes. God yes.”

A switch flicks inside of him, and he almost snarls through his teeth. “You feel so fucking good, ace. Your pussy takin’ me so well…” His hips buck faster, in abrupt snapping motions, burying his cock each damn time. He connects your legs together and turns you to your side, altering the position slightly.

You look behind your shoulder and see that feral look etched on his face. His grip is tight on the flesh of your hips and the curve of your ass, having it raised slightly for his convenience. He smacks your behind with an open palm, and it elicits a lusty moan out of you.

“Fuck, baby,” he rasps. “So beautiful like this, dripping around my fucking cock, huh? My good girl.”

The noises you release as a result are unintelligible. You press your face against the pillow in sheer pleasure, muffling your sounds.

“I wanna hear you, baby,” Aemond protests. With practised ease, he repositions you so your ass is propped high before him, your body bent forward as you have to lean on your forearms to keep from planting your face on the sheets.

He doesn’t ease up on his relentless thrusting, and you’re left squirming and cock-drunk. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head, you’re blissed-out on what only Aemond can give you.

“Does he fuck you as good?” he spits in obvious distaste. “I don’t think so, baby. Can’t fuck this pussy like I do.”

“N-no,” you whimper, without any trace of guilt. “Only you, Aem.”

“Hmm,” he simpers. “Come for me, ace. Be a good girl now. Come around my cock, yeah?”

“Mhhmm,” you pant, growing weaker and weaker at his statements, your walls tensing for that release you crave.

“You’re mine, ace. Mine.”

Your whimper comes out sudden and unrestrained as you let go, and feel your warm juices leaking down your thighs. The sounds of his cock growing noisy and sloppier. He releases not long after, with a few sharp spasms, decorating your insides with his cum.

Marking someone who is not supposed to be his.

But nothing else matters as he crumples against you and pulls you into his arms. If something is to be reconciled with, it won’t be for tonight.

With these things, regret always comes along with the sunrise.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

“40 - 30.”

The crowd cheers at the umpire’s announcement. You can barely make out the faces morphing together into one homogeneous mob, but you’ve observed enough to know that Aemond isn’t among them. Rivulets of sweat drip down your face and you walk to the side as another break starts.

Helaena nods at you from the opposite side of the court, and you respond with a terse smile.

She resembles him so much - the one you’ve been avoiding for the past three days. With that same distinct shade of blonde hair and deep blue eyes, but possessing an aura of tenderness about her. If Aemond wasn’t lying about her plan to retire, then it makes perfect sense. She seems too good for the sport, too pure, whereas you fit right into its cruel constraints.

What sort of person would have done what you did, some nights ago, and be able to walk with their head held high? You want to believe that you regret sleeping with Aemond, that you would reverse your actions, given the chance. But the pain that eats at you is that you might have fucked things up for good, abruptly leaving before he woke up that morning.

It’s ironic - you may just get what you said you wanted. To end things. Never to be the same with him again.

You slump in your seat, wiping at your face with a towel, pushing all thought of Aemond from your mind.

From your periphery, you catch Helaena gesturing to you. She smiles, and you think that your emotions must show so clearly on your face that she feels bad for you.

She nods, and tilts her head to the side, so that you follow her gaze. Standing courtside, partially hidden in the corner just behind the barriers, you see Aemond closely watching you.

He came after all. You turn back to Helaena, unable to hide your surprise, and she sends another smile your way. She knows. Of course she does.

With renewed excitement, the match continues. It only takes one more point, one final ace, and you emerge triumphant. The court fills with cheers and sounds of celebration. It is declared that you are advancing to the next round of the tournament. You meet Helaena in the middle and she firmly shakes your hand, exhibiting no sign of disappointment.

“Congratulations! Very well played.” She drops her racket and grasps your hand with both of hers. She leans closer, and adds, “You know, I also consider it a win for myself, because my last ever match is against the girl my brother is in love with.”

You forget where you are, the revelation rendering everything else moot. The cheering crowds disappear, and it’s just you and Helaena as she dips her head comfortingly, assuring you that you heard her words true.

“I’m sure I’ll see you soon,” she lets go finally, with a cheerful, “go celebrate!”

You feel yourself being whisked away, cameras flashing from all sides. Art appears in front of you and he pulls you into an embrace. Several onlookers gush at the sight. You barely take notice of them, your eyes already drifting to where Aemond was standing.

There he remains, casually leaning against the barriers. Some audience members realise that the great Aemond Targaryen stands among them, and one by one a small crowd forms around him, asking for pictures and autographs.

He continues to hold your gaze, his usual smirk making an appearance, ignoring a guy waving a camera at his face. You shake your head at the scene, a genuine laugh bubbling from your lips.

You nod to each other, as if acknowledging the absurdity of it all, and leave it at that. There’s a lot more to be said, for another time. Art wraps his arm around your waist, and Aemond takes it as his cue to look away, relenting to the eager fans surrounding him.

You direct your gaze to your boyfriend, immediately seeing the recognition in Art’s eyes. He’s seen everything.

He doesn’t need to be as acutely perceptive as Helaena to realise the truth. That of the one-eyed rogue and his ace. You’ve been drifting from him for so long, that it was only a matter of time.

He was your friend first, and he always will be. You’ve watched each other grow, through endless mistakes and challenges, and there’s a fire in you he cannot match.

But Aemond can. He knows this now.

He extends a hand out to you, one which you accept with poorly masked caution. He understands how woeful it must be, to tear yourself apart from being in love with someone else. The shame and uncertainty that must entail.

For both your sakes, he decides that he has to be the bigger person and do the right thing.

“What do you say?” Art offers to you. “Post match treat?” he asks, referring to your tradition of sharing a large strawberry sundae after games.

“Okay.” Your smile is sweet and unguarded, and it reminds him of when you first met, nearly six years ago. That day, he knew he had made a lifelong friend.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

“I wish I could say I’m happy to see you here, but we did once promise not to lie to each other.”

Aemond swivels toward the sound of your voice, cigarette smoke billowing from his lips.

“Vile habit, Targaryen.” You wrinkle your nose, and he just shakes his head and crushes the butt of his cigarette under his shoe.

“Yeah, well.” He merely shrugs. He was dead set on quitting, but something came up the past couple of days, causing his anxiety to reach new heights. When you ignored him after the night you shared, he can’t fault himself for reaching for depraved solace in nicotine. But no substance would ever be enough to erase the precious memory of watching you come undone.

“Not happy to see me, ace?” he refers back to your greeting, not bothering to hide the hurt he feels.

You walk closer to him, trying to hold back a smile. “Well, I lied. But it’s not like I haven’t lied before.” You stop when you’re right in front of him, the remnants of his smoke making you feel woozy. “I also lied when I said that we can’t keep being us anymore. When I said goodbye.”

“Hmm,” his lips curl at your confession. “Judging by how wildly you fucked me after you said that, I could already tell.”

You roll your eyes, but you already feel so much better, like things are falling right back into place. All it took was some teasing from the apparently callous, sharp-tongued, ambitious-to-a-fault boy standing before you.

A boy who revealed the true depths of his compassion only to you. He let you thaw out his cold heart from its confines and declared it yours.

“Something more to say, ace?” he asks.

“You first.”

“Are you kidding? Why don’t you play this game with your boyfriend?”

You share a lingering look, effectively answering his question. The unabashed shit-eating smile that breaks out on his face is enough to tell you just how he feels.

“Don’t gloat,” you warn him, but he’s already pulled you flush against him with both arms. “I also need a new coach.”

“Mhmm,” he nods, not really in response to your statement. “Save that for later, ace. Please shut the hell up and kiss me.”

He can’t help but smile through kisses, his lips chasing yours when you make an effort to pull away and say something more.

“Aemond, will you - ”

“Fuckin’ - ” a cuss slips from him when you manage to break apart, depriving him of your lips. He answers impatiently, “Yes of course, I’ll be your coach, ace. Of course. Happy? I’ll be anything you want me to be.”

Before he leans in once more, you say, “Don’t you dare fuck this up, Targaryen.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, my love.”

You lean back in mild surprise.

He laughs, “I mean - ace - or my love. Either one applies, really.”

"I... I prefer ace," you say weakly.

"Now, now, my love. I thought we promised not to lie to each other?"

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