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hannyoontify · 9 months

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your cherry flavored kisses - choi seungcheol

member | basketball player!seungcheol x student medic!reader ft. the rest of svt

genre | fluff, high school!au, established relationship!au, secret dating!au(?)

word count | 2.8k

synopsis | as his mom always said, kisses are the best kind of medicine for boo-boos

warnings | cursing, kissing, minor injuries, one joke about sex, reader is a bit shy when it comes to relationships and pda, a bunch of romantic cliches but pls js let me have this one 🥲

notes | realized that i can’t write intimate scenes for shit!!!! but also happy (late) birthday to the best leader!! hope your day was full of laughter and love because you deserve all of it and more <33

The entire gym seemed to grimace collectively when Player #1 was shoved over by the opposing team member, and so did you. Choi Seungcheol, the captain and star player of your school’s varsity basketball team rolled over onto his back, clutching his knee and face scrunched up in pain.

The stands booed when the zebra-patterned referee blew his whistle and signaled it as not a foul. Students and other on-lookers from both sides began to yell, petitioning that it was a flagrant foul, but the referee stood his ground. You and your friend Vernon ran out onto the basketball court with the stretcher as your school’s head coach tried to reason with the referee.

“Hey, hey. Seungcheol, where does it hurt?” Vernon asked as you set down the stretcher. You reached over and scooped your hands under the sweaty athlete’s shoulders, ready to lift him into the gurney. When you first joined your school’s new sports medicine and therapy program, you thought no one actually used the medical device and the school had invested in one just for show. Obviously, you now stand corrected.

“The area-” The brunette gasped for air. Every square inch of his face was glistening in sweat, the collar of his jersey absolutely soaked through. Seungcheol had been giving it his all this entire game, scoring almost 21 points and it was only halfway through the second period. This aggravated the opposing team, who were losing exponentially, enough for them to push Seungcheol over when he was dribbling down the court. “The area below my knee cap. Hurts like a bitch.”

Vernon nodded in understanding and glanced over at you. You returned his gaze with a determined nod of your head and the two of you gently lifted shifted him onto the carrier.

“Sorry. Would try to help but-” Seungcheol’s words were cut off with a loud groan. “Can’t. Right now.”

You tightened your lips at the sight of his face stricken with pain and with the help of Vernon, heaved him up and carried the injured player out of the gym to the nurse’s office.

Once Seungcheol was laid down on a cot, Vernon ran off to find Ms. Jung, the school nurse who had momentarily left her post to “get some fresh air” while you looked for an ice pack. As soon your friend left the room, Seungcheol grabbed your wrist and pulled you closer from where he was lying down, forcing you to sit on the edge of the cot he was lying on.

You rolled your eyes and tried to pull away but he kept an iron grip on your wrist as he tried his best to make eye contact with you. “Are you mad at me?” He asked with a small pout.

“No, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You huffed, refusing to face his direction. From where he was lying, Seungcheol could catch a glimpse of your side profile. Your lips were jutted out into a firm pout and your cheeks puffed out.

“I’m sorry, love. I tried to take it easy but you know how I get-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I just… don’t like seeing you get hurt,” You said, in a much softer voice this time. “Damn you and your competitiveness. It doesn’t hurt to lose sometimes, you know.”

Seungcheol smiled when you turned around to finally face him. “Look at me, I’m all fine! I was just fibbing on the court to- OW WHAT THE FUCK?!”

Your boyfriend yelled out in pain when you poked at his knee, right below the kneecap where he said it was hurting earlier. “Fibbing, my ass. Stay here while I get an ice pack.”

Seungcheol whimpered in pain, rolling around on his back with his arms clenched around his leg while you searched through the mini freezer. He watched from behind, staring at your hunched over form. Despite the extreme pain he was currently feeling, he felt a warm feeling blossom in his chest that spread throughout his body all the way past his limbs to the tips of his fingers. God, he cared for you so much.

“Here, I think we ran out of ice packs so you have to use this bag of peas,” You came back with half a bag of iced peas, offering it to your boyfriend who looked up at you with teary heart eyes.

(FYI, they were only teary because he was in immense pain.)

After sitting up, Seungcheol accepted the makeshift ice pack and pressed to his knee, knowing how to treat his injuries better than you or any other sports medicine and therapy student. You sat down next to him, gathering your knees close to your chest and lightly resting your head on his shoulder. It felt like your heart was going to leap out of your throat because of your close proximity.

You’ve had a crush on Choi Seungcheol for as long as you can remember. In elementary school, you found yourself drawn to him because of how he selflessly gave away all of his candy during lunch. (Looking back on it now, you might’ve been attracted to the candy not him, but that makes it sound less romantic so you like to leave that part out). In middle school, you always caught yourself staring in his direction because he was good. He excelled at whatever he did. He always knew the answers in math and shared interesting perspectives in English for a middle schooler. But he shone in gym class. Choi Seungcheol looked invincible with a ball in his hands, somehow pulling off the tacky and scratchy gym clothes that smelled like a mix of sweat and old socks. It was in eighth grade when you started doodling ‘[Name] Choi’ in the back of your math notebook before erasing frantically whenever your teacher walked by.

In high school, it was no different, except Choi Seungcheol just got really, really tall and really, really, really attractive. He was scouted into the school’s junior varsity basketball team as a freshman and became a point guard for the varsity team as a sophomore. He was completely out of your league. Choi Seungcheol was the star player of your school’s basketball team while you were just a staff member in your school’s newspaper. The closest you’ve ever gotten to Choi Seungcheol was when you assisted Seokmin in interviewing him after winning a game.

That was, until this past summer. You were taking summer school classes to make room for sports med. and therapy in your schedule, and your seat partner was none other than Choi Seungcheol, who had failed Economics the semester before. It took you by surprise that the smartest boy you knew since third grade had failed a class, but you thought it was impressive that he even managed to take Economics as a junior.

You found yourself bonding with the star player, joking around during class and taking turns to take naps so someone could take notes while the other slept. The system worked, and the teacher looked like they weren’t being paid enough to be there, so the two of you considered it a win. The entire summer flew by like that, talking and hanging out with Seungcheol, even outside of class. This was when you learned about his performance anxiety, his self-doubt, and the pressure he feels from not only his coach and teammates but also the rest of the school. You offered him the most comfort you could possibly muster; a few words of encouragement and a big, big hug.

When Seungcheol asked you out on the last day of summer school, you didn’t see it coming at all. From what you knew, he only recently broke up with his past girlfriend, the captain of the cheer team. Everyone had said that they were like a match made in heaven, but evidently not, considering how messy their breakup was. But who were you to say no?

Fast forward two months, to your current situation. You guys weren’t intentionally keeping the relationship a secret, rather you were just shy and Seungcheol understood that. He promised you to wait patiently until you were ready.

“Can I see your knee?” You asked softly. Seungcheol nodded and took off the bag of peas, revealing his now bruised knee. The skin was discolored in different shades of blue, black, dark purple, and green and you drew in a sharp breath. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

Seungcheol pouted and pointed to his cheek, where he had a small nick, probably a scratch from the other player as he fell. You smiled and cautiously brought your hand up to his face. Despite having been dating for well over 2 months, PDA still felt a bit awkward for you. You occasionally held hands and hugged, and you liked to rest your head on his broad shoulders. Seeing Seungcheol’s face this close to yours made your stomach erupt into butterflies and you could feel the heat quickly spreading up to your cheeks.

“Let’s get some ointment on this,” You left your spot and began digging through the medicine cabinets, ignoring the hot burning on the apples of your cheeks. Going through every cabinet except the one that actually held the ointment, you talked loudly to yourself and Seungcheol held back a laugh at the sight. He thought it was cute, how flustered you got at the smallest amounts of physical touch. “Here it is!”

You ceremoniously held up the treatment and bandage box up in the air with a triumphant grin and Seungcheol couldn’t help but return the smile. Sitting back down next to him, you ignored the fluttering in your stomach again as you dabbed on the ointment onto your boyfriend’s face, trying your absolute hardest not to stare into his dark, chocolate-y brown eyes or his pretty pink lips-

“[Name], sweetheart, the scratch is on the other side,” Seungcheol said softly and you wanted to dig a hole, crawl into it and stay there forever. Your lover simply chuckled at your quiet ‘sorry’. “You’re cute.”

Now you really need to dig a hole. This was getting too much for you.

“Psh. Whatever,” You mumbled under your breath as you finished applying the treatment and brought out the bandage kit. “Stay still or else I won’t finish treating you.”

Seungcheol tried his best not to move when he felt your fingers lightly grazing his skin, sending shivers down his spine. It tickled, and he giggled.

You bit back a smile and lightly hit him in his shoulder for laughing. “I told you not to move.”

“I couldn’t help it! It tickles,” With a small shake of your head, you put the kit away and sat back down next to him. Seungcheol stared at you for a minute before speaking again. “[Name], I think you’re forgetting something.”

You looked at Seungcheol with a confused look. “What do you mean?”

He crossed his arms across his chest with a pout. “Aren’t I supposed to get a lollipop for being a good patient?”

God, he was not good for your heart.

“How could I possibly forget?” With a fond smile, you handed him a bright red heart shaped candy on a stick. “You have been a good boy, have a lollipop!”

Seungcheol’s eyes twinkled at your reference to one of his favorite movies and gratefully took the candy. “Okay, now one last thing.”

“What?”

He pointed towards his injured knee. “You need to kiss it to make it feel better! It’s a part of the official medical procedure. My mom said so, and she’s a nurse.”

You rolled your eyes at your boyfriend’s childish antics but nonetheless bent over to kiss his knee. “And when’s the last time she’s said that to you?”

Seungcheol thought about it. “When I was four or five. But it’s you, so it’s gonna work, I promise,” He beamed triumphantly and pointed towards his right wrist, where he had injured it last season. “Here too.”

Thus began a little game, where Seungcheol pointed at all of his injuries, new and old, and you would follow wherever his finger pointed to kiss it and make it feel better. It was his knee, then his wrist, his elbow, his shoulder blade, his collar, all the way up to his cheek.

Your face is inches away from Seungcheol’s and you were pretty sure he could hear your accelerating heartbeat that thrummed loudly in your chest and ears. The sudden close proximity makes your breath hitch as you glance down at the candy stick that stuck out past his pretty lips. The warmth that radiated off his body sent chills down yours as you locked eyes with him.

You felt sick. You really, really needed to dig a hole.

With your hands fidgeting in your lap, you leaned in closer, almost feeling drawn to his presence, like a moth drawn to a light or a sailor drawn to the sweet melodies of a siren’s voice. You wondered if Seungcheol would also lead you to your demise, just like those sirens.

He leans in even more, his warm breath ghosting over your lips. The lollipop was nowhere to be found but you could still smell the overly sweet artificial cherry flavor and you licked your lips. If you moved just the slightest bit, your lips would graze his.

“Cheol... can I kiss you?” The words leave your mouth without thinking and you want to kick yourself.

Seungcheol pulls away for a second to get a better look at you, his eyes darting between your eyes and your lips. “I’d be pretty sad if you didn’t.”

That was all the confirmation you needed before you screwed your eyes shut and pressed your lips against his. You felt your teeth knock against his and you winced, but Seungcheol didn’t seem to mind. His hands naturally find the side of your face and waist as he gently pulls you in deeper into the kiss. Your hands remain in your lap, ever fidgeting and fussing at the new feeling.

His lips tasted like cherry. A swirling combination of the cherry flavored lollipop and his cherry flavored chapstick he always wore before his games. He claimed that his lips get chapped easily during the game when you questioned him about it once. You decided that this was your new favorite flavor. Combined with the feeling of his soft lips against yours, you wondered how you made it this far without kissing him.

Seungcheol pulls away hesitantly, his hands still on their respective places on your cheek and waist. “Too much?”

You shake your head with a smile. “You taste like cherries. I like it.”

He took that as a sign to continue and pulled you back in. This time you were prepared and angled your face so as to not bump your teeth with his again. You smiled into the kiss, the fluttering feeling in your stomach making you feel even more giddy than before. One hand slowly made their way onto Seungcheol’s shoulder, gripping onto his jersey as his lips captured yours.

“So that’s why our captain’s been in a good mood lately.”

You basically shriek as you frantically pull away from Seungcheol, who seemed just as surprised to see his entire (sweaty) team standing by the entrance. In the front leading the group was Yoon Jeonghan, another star player who co-captained the team and Seungcheol’s best friend. He stood by the doorway with his arms crossed, an amused smirk pulling at his lips. You could see the rest of his teammates standing behind him, noticing Mingyu and Soonyoung who seemed excited out of their minds to catch their captain in love.

“Go awayyyy,” Seungcheol complained, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. “Go bother someone else, I was doing something!”

You heard someone mumble, “More like doing someone,” that was immediately covered up with a cough.

“I heard that, Boo Seungkwan.”

Jeonghan uncrossed his arms and took a step back. “We all came to check up on you but it seems like you got all the kisses you need to make your boo-boo feel better. I expect you to be on that court once halftime is over!”

You basked in the silence that followed soon after the 10 rowdy boys left. Guess the cat was out of the bag then.

“... Can I seriously play after halftime?”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now, Choi Seungcheol?!”

“Sorry, sorry! It was a joke!” A moment of silence before, “Can I kiss you again?”

reblogs and feedback is always appreciated ^-^

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fcwoso · 6 months

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Morning motivation · Alexia Putellas

Summary: alexia needed motivation to conquer the day, reader makes a poor attempt and somehow succeeds (fluffy)

MASTERLIST

Alexia was a major perfectionist. Everything had to go well from the beginning of the match until the final whistle. It was impossible, though. Football was an unpredictable sport, but not for the Spanish midfielder. No, she had it under control, that's what she had convinced herself throughout the years as a professional. She felt this intense fear of failure, afraid of breaking the promise she made to herself years ago. She promised to be the best at what’s she’s doing in order to make her family, fans and loved ones proud. Somehow, it turned into an unhealthy mindset, pushing herself to the maximum each time she felt like she didn't do enough.

This mindset got worse when she came back from her ACL injury. Insecurity kicked in once she started to play along her teammates who she currently almost considered as competition. The two Ballon d’Or awards didn’t do enough convincing, even though she saw them every morning right after she woke up. She needed more. She needed reassurance and she found it in you.

‘’Ale, you really need to get up. Training is about to start.’’ You two were currently laying in your bed, Alexia’s alarm had woken up the both of you. She had a match at noon, but Jonatan decided to plan in an early training, just to make sure everyone’s ready and in good form. You heard a small groan leave your lover’s mouth and immediately knew she was having one of those days. A strong arm was resting on your waist, pulling you closer. She wished she could just forget her obligations and continue the nice sleep she was having, but she couldn't. The whole team was counting on her, the captain had to put her own wishes aside in order to fulfill theirs.

You squeezed Alexia’s tense shoulder before stroking her warm cheek, pushing away the streaks of hair that were covering her tired face. You saw an adorable pout forming on the blonde and couldn’t help but chuckle at her childlike antics. ‘’Are you seriously laughing at me?’’ She mumbled and finally opened her eyes, face partly disappearing in her pillow. You shook your head before leaning in to press a few gentle kisses on her forehead, making the small frown disappear and decided to keep this closeness.

‘’Of course not, I could never do that.’’ Was the reply that left your mouth, it was an honest one. You could never laugh at Alexia’s misery, as she would call it because that’s how she experienced this chaos. A training bag was laying in the corner of the room, untouched by the woman who’s legs were still entangled with yours under the cozy, warm covers.

You quickly pressed a kiss to her nose to prevent her eyes from closing because you knew how fast she could fall asleep again. ‘’Can we switch for today, bebita (baby)?’’ Alexia began. ‘’I get to sleep in, and you can wear my jersey. You know how much I love it when you do.’’ The distance between you got smaller, non-existent, as she rested her head on your chest and listened to the sound of your heartbeat. You played with her hair and stayed silent, thinking of some encouraging words.

‘’You’re Alexia Putellas.’’ Was the first thing that left your mouth. You heard a small laugh, feeling Alexia’s grip on you loosening a bit as she rested her chin on your chest. Her hazel eyes staring into your serious ones, not completely understanding the context behind the words you just spit out. ‘’That’s me.’’ She nodded. ‘’And?’’ Was the next thing she asked, trying to hide her smile. She got curious, the stern expression on your face not giving away a hint of what you were thinking of.

You shifted your hands from her shoulders to her cheeks and held them firmly while leaving patterns with your thumbs. ‘’That’s it. That’s literally it.’’ You whispered, but suddenly heard a loud laugh leaving the blonde’s mouth. ‘’Wait, this is your poor attempt to motivate me?’’ Alexia couldn’t help but be amused by your words, she knew you were being serious by the look of your face. You nodded and stared lovingly at her, happy you got to see her smile this morning. ‘’You have nothing to worry about.’’ You replied, placing a tender kiss on her lips, hoping to emphasize the message you were trying to convey.

Alexia nodded and thanked you quietly, a small sigh escaping her mouth as she rolled out of bed. She pulled the covers over your form and made her way to the bathroom. ‘’You know, you can still wear my jersey.’’ She winked before completely disappearing from your view, pointing to the part of the closet that was dedicated to her jerseys. That’s what you were planning on doing, but leading the team? No, that was La Reina’s job.

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas one shot #alexia putellas imagine #woso community #woso x reader #woso #woso one shot #woso imagine #fc barcelona femeni #woso fanfics

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wosoluver · 29 days

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We don't talk anymore Part 2

Claudia x childhood best friend!reader

Different people reach the high of their careers at different times.

You couldn't complain though. From playing with the boys in your neighborhood, to playing for a first division team in England, you had come a long way.

And now at just 23, you were being transferred to Barcelona.

Yes. The same team that had turned their back on you years ago.

In truth you took the hard hit of being separated from your best friend and your family, as an opportunity, to work hard enough to make back home.

And here you were. Making your way to your first training with the team.

Your heart pounded in your chest, anticipating to see those beautiful blue eyes, always paired with a grin.

You thought about reaching out, but decided against it. What were you supposed to say? Hello? Remember me? I'm coming home?

And it's not like she didn't know you had been signed by her team. She could have reached out too.

Unless, something you refused to believe, she had completely forgot your existence, and didn't recognize her own childhood best friend.

You took a deep breath walking in, you went around the locker room, introducing yourself and Alexia took you under her wing immediately, trying to make sure fit in. Apparently you were a bit early.

"Y/N?" - You heard as you turned around.

Seeing her eyes shining as you did.

"Clau." - You said it on a quieter tone.

She immediately hugged you. Initially you didn't hug her back. Blame it on shock or blame it on hard feelings. But eventually you gave in.

"You two know each other?" - asked Jana.

"They are best friends." said Patri.

The only one there who had actually heard about you. Many, many times.

Like Piña she started very young on Barça, around the same time. They instantly became friends. She spent many nights wiping Claudia's tears, while she mourned the loss of her friend.

"I've missed you more than anything!" - She said already emotional.

"Long time no see hm?" - You said trying to break the awkwardness.

"I watched you play all the time on my tv." - And you instantly let the wall you were trying so hard to keep up, down. Offering her a smile.

"I did the same! I'm sorry for not reaching out.

I know it's stupid, but I thought you might have forgotten me..."

"There's not a day that went by where I did think about you."

You heard someone clean their through.

"You guys can talk more later yeah? We have some training to do." - Said Alexia kindly.

"I'm Patri! Piña's second best friend." - Said Guijarro with a big smile as you

all walked out for the field.

You couldn't remember the last time you had so much fun playing. You remembered how it felt to play as a kid. Remembered why you fell in love with the sport in the first place.

"Ets boníssima, Y/N! Welcome to Barça." - Alexia, said giving your shoulder a squeeze.

"Moltes gràcies." - Giving her a bright smile.

"Hey wait up for me!" - Claudia yelled as you were all going in to shower.

"You're better than I remembered."

"Well the girls at Tottenham were a lot harder to play against, than the boys from back home." - You both let out heartfelt laughs.

"I'm sorry I left you behind."

"Stop! You didn't. You were following your destiny."

"I felt so powerless, not being able to demand they brought you along."

"Well I took the longer way here."

"You made them regret not choosing you. You proved them wrong. You played until they couldn't ignore you anymore!"

"You make it sound more glorious than it actually was."

"I told you, we would make it."

"You saw potential in me, before any team could."

You two finished getting ready.

"Do you need a ride home?"

"That would be nice."

"Okay. Patri you're giving Y/N a ride!"

"You offered me a ride? As a passenger in someone else's car?" - She really hadn't changed.

"She won't mind."

"I don't mind." - Said Patri joining the two of you on the way to the car. - "The english league had nothing on your defense, Y/N. You needed better competition."

As she said that you completely understood why they became close.

And once again, you made your way home together. As if you had never been separated at all.

#woso #woso x reader #claudia pina #claudia pina x reader #fc barcelona femeni

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theemporium · 9 months

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LITERALLY LOVE TROUBLE AND MAX!!! also this thought has been rotting in my brain ever since reading trouble and max going skinny dipping. trouble wants to get max high and wants to teach him how to get high but he’s already a pro (got that ducth in him) so he doesn’t tell trouble until afterwards.

thank you!! and thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

In fairness, you should have questioned how the man from the Netherlands had never gotten high before. Maybe thinking about it for more than three seconds and making an assumption would have saved you the embarrassment.

But in your defence, Max had been in competitive sports since he was a young child. He spent almost every day of his life training or racing or trying to be the best. It wasn’t the most outlandish thought to have that he would have never gotten high before, that he never wanted to risk a drug test or his own physical performance.

Or, at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

And for Max, he just didn’t have the heart to tell you.

You were so excited when you proposed the idea to him. You were so excited about rolling a joint together and teaching him. You were being so sweet, telling him that it would just be the two of you so he didn’t have to worry about having too much or not being able to get past a coughing fit for the first few puffs.

You were just being you—his Trouble—and he would be damned if he took that excitement away from you.

So, he pretended.

You were sitting in his apartment, in his living room. The windows were opened and he was sprawled against one side of the couch with you leaning back against his chest. His arms laid lazily around as he watched you roll the joint, humming when he was meant to in between your instructions.

You placed the joint between your lips, inhaling deeply before blowing the smoke out. You then turned around to look at him, holding the stick between your fingers. “You think you’re ready, Verstappen?”

He raised his brows in amusement. “What would you do if I said no?”

“You don’t have to do it,” you told him in a genuine voice. “I can like…shotgun it for you, if you want.”

Max knew he should have come clean there and then. If he was a good man, he would have done just that and enjoyed passing a joint with his girlfriend on a Saturday evening. But he wasn’t a good man, especially not with the image of you straddling his lap and your lips brushing against his.

“Maybe you should do that,” he murmured quickly with a nod.

He could feel his cock stir in his sweatpants when you turned around, one leg on either side of his hips before you took a deep inhale. You then leaned down, your hair fanning around you, almost creating a wall between the two of you and the rest of the world. You gripped his chin between your fingers, leaning down close enough that your nose was brushing against his and he could have come at the sight alone.

“Please,” he rasped as he parted his lips.

Your lips twitched as you closed the distance between each other. His eyes fluttered shut as he inhaled. His hands gripped your waist as though he wanted to tug you closer, and when you sealed the deal with a kiss, he couldn’t help but let out a groan.

You pulled back enough to look at his face. Your fingers anxiously tugged on the fabric of his shirt as you waited for the coughing fit that never came. Your brows furrowed together when he exhaled with ease, a giddy smile on his face as he tried to lean in for another kiss.

But your hand on his chest stopped him.

Your eyes narrowed on him. “This isn’t your first time, is it?”

His expression was bashful and sheepish.

“Max!”

“I’m Dutch, baby, what did you expect!” He defended before letting out a small chuckle. “C’mon, Trouble, don’t be like that.”

“You probably thought I was an idiot,” you groaned as you nuzzled your face against his chest.

“I thought it was cute,” Max murmured as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Could definitely get used to that little act though.”

“Yeah, I can feel how excited you are,” you deadpanned.

“Then, how about we finish that joint and have some fun?” His voice dropped to a whisper, a hint of desire and anticipation in his words.

Your lips twitched. “And you can make it up to me.”

“Always, Trouble. Always.”

#max verstappen #formula one #f1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen fic #max verstappen one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

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fafnir19 · 5 months

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Sporting Incentive

I stood outside the charming London apartment, feeling an electric thrill in my bones. Six months in this enchanting city awaited me, and I was ready to embrace every adventure it had in store.

I simply swapped apartments with another student who was also studying abroad. The other student’s name was William, and his apartment was centrally located—a perfect find for me.

As I stepped inside, the interior was as impressive as the exterior. Clean and stylish, with a touch of sophistication that made me feel right at home. A letter from William sat on the dining table, welcoming me to his apartment and assuring me that a cleaning lady would come weekly. I grinned as I read the part about making use of William's sports equipment and clothing. The apartment was a treasure trove of athletic gear. It seemed William was quite the athlete, unlike myself. From the bike leaning against the wall to rows of equipment for various sports, I couldn't help but feel a surge of admiration and a pang of guilt for not being as sporty.

The day London's public transportation went on strike, I found myself in a on a dilemma. I needed to get to the university, and without hesitation, I decided to ride William's white racing bike.

It was a new experience, and at first, I struggled to find my balance. Alas, as I pedaled through the streets of London, a newfound exhilaration filled me. I was hooked. "Whoa!" I mumbled to myself, my heart racing and laughter bubbling up as I zipped through the streets, reveling in the freedom and speed of the bike. From that day on, I ditched public transportation for my trusty two-wheeled companion.

"Hey, Aiden, why don't you join us for a game of hockey?" The invitation came from a couple of guys at the university. I was hesitant at first, not being much of a hockey player, but eventually, I gave in to their pleas. Before I knew it, I was suiting up in William's hockey gear and taking to the nearby park.

The game turned out to be a surprising success. I found joy in the friendly competition, and soon enough, hockey became a regular hobby for me. "Aiden, have you ever tried rowing? Our club could use someone like you," a fellow hockey player asked one day, sparking my interest in a sport I hadn't considered before. I thought that since I was in London, I might as well try rowing—after all, it's typically English.

I took William's rowing suit and ventured to the rowing club.

The sense of unity and purpose I found there had me hooked from the very first stroke. Before long, I was waking up at the crack of dawn to row every morning before heading to the university, relishing the tranquility of the river and the rhythm of the oars. As days went on, I noticed a change in my physique due to all the sports. My own clothes no longer fit properly, so I began wearing William's refinde attire. It felt a bit odd at first, but soon, I grew to love the posh style. "Well, well, look who's turning into quite the athlete,"

a friend remarked, and I couldn't help but smile at the transformation I had undergone.

With a deep breath, I stepped into the familiar pub, the scent of ale and chatter filled the air.

William was waiting for me, a grin spreading across his face. "Aiden! I'm back earlier than expected. How's the apartment been treating you?" "It's been fantastic, William. I can't thank you enough for letting me stay here." "I'm glad you enjoyed it. By the way, you don't have to sleep on the sofa. It's not really my apartment, and I actually haven't been abroad," William confessed with a chuckle. "Wait, what do you mean it's not your apartment? What's going on?" I asked, feeling a knot of confusion forming in my stomach. "It's all part of an experiment for my master's thesis. The apartment is designed to influence your subconscious and turn you into an athlete. And I must say, it's been quite a success!" William's eyes danced with excitement. "You did what?" My voice rose in incredulity, but I found myself unable to muster anger toward William. There was an odd sense of acceptance and understanding that came over me. Before I could protest further, William dropped another bombshell. "And it seems my experiment turned out more successful than anticipated. I also tried to make you my best friend, and it looks like it worked!" I blinked, trying to process everything, but then something remarkable happened. A warmth settled in my chest, and I couldn't help but mirror William's grin.

"A world trip, you say? I've always wanted to travel with you, William." "I thought you'd say that! I've already booked the tickets. It's the perfect way to celebrate the success of my thesis," William said, excitement lacing his words. The thought of traveling the world with William filled me with an indescribable joy, and for the first time in a long while, I felt genuinely excited about something. As the days passed and the world trip drew closer, I found myself caught in a whirlwind of preparations and excitement. The sparkle in William's eyes was infectious, and I couldn't deny the thrill of experiencing the world with him. The first light of dawn illuminated the airport, casting a golden glow over the eager faces of the travelers. An array of emotions churned within me—anticipation, excitement, and a flicker of apprehension.

"Here's to new adventures, Aiden," William said, clinking his glass against mine as we waited for our flight. "To new adventures," I echoed, a genuine smile curving my lips. The world awaited us, brimming with possibilities, and for the first time, I was eager to embrace it all. As the plane soared into the boundless sky, I couldn't help but feel a semblance of freedom that I had never experienced before. Leaning back in my seat, I closed my eyes and let the hum of the aircraft lull me into a state of contemplation. What awaited me beyond the horizon?

"Hello, Josh. Yes, it's been quite an interesting experiment, and I believe it's time to put the cherry on top," William’s professor spoke into his phone, his eyes glinting with anticipation. "Thank you for the generous financial support. Aiden has proven to be the ideal candidate for your law firm. He will change his subjects to law after returning from his world trip. I’ve influenced his subconscious so that he will become a dedicated and loyal employee." William’s professor said, his voice dripping with confidence.

"Oh, and I've taken up the suggestion of the HR department. Aiden will be pleased to contribute to the diversity charter as well. It seems he'll be a nice little addition to London’s gay community soon," William’s professor said with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

#male tf #male transformation #personality change #straight to gay #athlete tf #musclegrowth #hypnosis #subconscious

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emeraldenha · 11 months

Text

TAKE A SWING!

pairing: sporty bf!jaehyun x gn!reader | genre: established relationship, fluff | wc: +1.3k words | warnings: just jaehyun being cheesy

“Soccer?”

“No.”

“Basketball?”

“Nope.”

“Football?”

“Haven’t played it a day in my life.”

“What about golf?” Jaehyun attempts once again, turning his head to look your way as the two of you take an afternoon stroll through his neighborhood park.

Unable to return home for the holidays this year, your lovely boyfriend, Jaehyun, was ecstatic to use it as an opportunity to invite you to his hometown over break. And besides the stressful meet-the-parents dinner that awaited you the first night of your arrival, it’s all been smooth sailing from there as Jaehyun avidly showed you all his favorite places from his childhood. It’s a rush of both old and new memories overlapping simultaneously that you’re somehow able to sense despite not experiencing the former, but Jaehyun knows just how to paint the perfect picture for your mind to envision his little stories from photo album to reality.

Earlier during your walk to the park, you passed by some kids playing a seemingly competitive game of basketball on the basketball court and it washed Jaehyun with a wave of nostalgia, prompting him to reminisce on his flourishing sports life growing up.

Now, he was trying to get you to play a sport with him. Any sport. He was desperate for you to know how to play anything, badgering you with a list from off the top of his head.

“Yes, if mini golfing counts,” you answer with a chuckle, mindlessly swaying your intertwined hands back and forth. “I’ve only gone once though.”

It’s almost as if Jaehyun perfectly times stepping out into the sunlight after having walked through the shade casted by a line of towering trees, the glow on his face you can feel from him internally as much as externally.

“Perfect! Then we should go mini golfing for our next date,” he cutely declares, letting go of your hand for a second to bring you into a suffocating bear hug. “This is going to be so much fun!”

“You’re so dramatic!” you whine, but secretly, you love this side of him. When he loosens his grip on your waist, you’re greeted with his giddy, contagious smile. “You’re acting like I don’t already go out with you to games and stuff.”

His lips transform his blinding smile into a playful pout. “But you always make me explain what’s going on. Every. Single. Time.”

“Don’t act like you don’t love it when I do that. You always have this sort of golden flex in your eyes when you get to talk about the things you’re passionate about.”

He then goes from a pout to a smirk.

“What was that you said? A golden flex in my eyes?”

The next day, he talks your ear off about how excited he is all morning from the moment he wakes you up to get ready up until you’re in the passenger seat of his car. He’s definitely dressed in his golf attire for the occasion too—collared pollo shirt tucked into khaki pants in all their glory.

“Are you sure you want to drive?” you ask while buckling your seatbelt, frankly a little concerned.

You were the more comfortable one with driving in the relationship and that was a well-known fact. His car was practically your car. You even drove the entire road trip to his parent’s house, no prior discussion or agreement required.

“I can do it!” Jaehyun insists, starting the engine and carefully pulling out into the street. Not too long after, he almost swerves out of the lane he was in while trying to avoid a bird flying across the windshield. You don’t understand why he was so taken aback when it’s not like the car was going fast enough to hit the bird anyways.

“It still baffles me you have a license. Was the examiner watching you while half asleep? We’re going the speed of a turtle right now,” you tease, leaning your head back against the headrest as the music from Jaehyun’s playlist only adds to the rather calm atmosphere.

Suddenly, the car speeds up causing your body to lunge forward.

“Jae, you can’t just do that either! You have to ease into it!”

You would have smacked his arm if you weren’t so petrified that it’d cause the both of you to crash.

Amused by your reaction, his laugher rings through the air as you keep your eyes peeled on the road for the remainder of the drive.

When you get to the mini golf course and start playing, you learn that you feel like a loser standing next to Jaehyun for two reasons. One, your previous mini golfing experience was essentially good for nothing. Two, because of reason number one, Jaehyun was going easy on you and was still winning by a mile.

“I suck,” you complain like a child, as much as you hate to admit.

“Come on, you’re not half bad,” he attempts to convince you, but you don’t believe a word that comes out of his mouth.

He had to say that. He’s your boyfriend, and he’s too kind. You could wack the golf ball all the way into the parking lot somehow and he’d still try to say you weren’t ‘half bad.’

“Says the guy who’s barely even trying. How do you make it look so easy?”

Grabbing your wrist to drag you to the next course without a word, he meticulously adjusts your stance, making you feel like your limbs were being possessed by a mannequin.

“Myung Jaehyun,” you warn, though it can only be followed by empty threats. You can already sense what he’s about to do, your heartbeat picking up its pace, because even though close proximity is an obviously familiar concept between the two of you, it still gets you each and every time.

Circling him arms around you from behind and drawing you into his back, his hands rest over yours on the golf club as he swings, nearly achieving a hole-in-one. You’re secretly glad that’s not the case though so he can hold onto you a little longer, but unfortunately, the ball makes it in by the next shot. You still cheer as if you had done all the heavy lifting, feigning an unaffectedness for his touch and choosing to tease him instead.

“Pulling that move? You’re so cheesy, you know that?”

“But you like my cheesiness!” he retorts, cheekily stealing a kiss on your forehead.

A flurry of laughs erupt from both your throats as you feel a buzz through your jean pocket. You take a step away from Jaehyun for a moment to check your messages while he’s filling out the scorecard for you.

“What are you on your phone for?” He asks once he notices, and while a normal and innocent question, you notice the slump in his shoulders and his big puppy dog eyes all in a quick glance.

He wants your attention.

“Nothing. It’s Sungho. He’s just asking me how to do something,” you say and promise it won’t take long in order to console him, tongue slightly sticking out of your mouth as you draft a response to your mutual friend.

You only make it halfway through what you’re trying to say before you feel a weight on your shoulder. Jaehyun’s head has found its way there as the tip of his nose tickles the side of your neck.

“I love Sungho and everything, but can we worry about him later?” he mumbles into your skin, face probably flushed red if you were to guess. He continues, “I wanted to come here to spend time with you. No interruptions. Just for today, please.”

‘I can’t say no to him, can I?’ you think, the temptation to cave in hitting you quickly.

Rushing to finish whatever sentence you were on, you press send and write a quick follow up text to Sungho that you’ll get back to him later before shutting your phone off.

“I’m all yours,” you say, craning your head until your noses are touching. You press a lingering kiss to his lips and the blissful feeling is enough to erase the world around you. “For today, tomorrow, and every day after that, I’ll be yours.”

“My cheesiness is starting to rub off on you.”

You only shrug. “I don’t know, I think you were right. I do kind of like it after all.”

main masterlist

permanent taglist: @icysungho

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thepaperpanda · 5 months

Text

Decorating Christmas tree with Kirishima

Summary: a few headcanons and a short drabble about decorating a Christmas tree with your boyfriend Kirishima 🎄

Author: Bear

Kirishima approaches Christmas tree decorating with the same level of enthusiasm he has for hero battles. He makes a detailed plan, complete with a rough sketch of how he envisions the tree's final look.

No decorating session is complete without Kirishima's curated holiday playlist blasting in the background. Expect a mix of classic carols and upbeat tunes that reflect his lively personality. Mariah Carey's on as well.

Kirishima insists on incorporating red and black ribbons, inspired by his hero costume. To him, every element should reflect strength and resilience.

Kirishima turns hanging ornaments into a mini-challenge, attempting to hang them with the utmost precision. He even playfully challenges you to a friendly competition to see who can hang the most ornaments without them falling.

Kirishima suggests creating some DIY decorations together. He's all about teamwork and bonding, so expect to find yourselves making personalized ornaments that represent your shared experiences.

Kirishima takes the opportunity to dress in festive attire, sporting a Santa hat or reindeer antlers.

Before placing any decorations, Kirishima takes a moment to inspect the tree, ensuring it's sturdy and ready for the holiday battle of aesthetics.

Kirishima is in charge of handling the lights, carefully draping them around the tree. He ensures they flow gracefully and don't get tangled.

Throughout the process, Kirishima reminisces about past holidays and shares stories.

Once the tree is fully decorated, Kirishima can't resist striking a heroic victory pose beside the masterpiece. He insists on a commemorative photo to capture the festive triumph, making it a cherished memory for the both of you.

You found yourself in the cozy living room, surrounded by the warm embrace of holiday decorations.

Kirishima, your energetic and passionate boyfriend, was bubbling with excitement as the two of you prepared to decorate the Christmas tree together.

The scent of pine filled the air as you unpacked boxes of ornaments and lights.

Kirishima's eyes sparkled with festive fervor. "Babe, this tree is gonna be the most awesome one ever! Plus Ultra Christmas, here we come!"

You chuckled, appreciating his enthusiasm. "Sure thing, Eijiro! How about we start with these candy cane lights?" you suggested, holding up a string of red and white lights.

Kirishima began to drape them around the tree. "Carefully, carefully," he whispered to himself with his tongue sticking out a little.

Soon you began to unwrap delicate glass ornaments, and Kirishima's strong, calloused hands carefully took hold of the fragile decorations. "Gotta be gentle with these, right?" he grinned, his red hair catching the warm glow of the lights.

As you adorned the tree with ornaments, Kirishima couldn't resist teasing. "You know, our tree is as tough as me! Unbreakable tree and decorations for an unbreakable hero!" Kirishima playfully flexed his muscles.

"I just love how positive you are about preparing everything," you mused sweetly, giving him a look.

Amidst the laughter and playful banter, a soft melody of holiday tunes played in the background ("All I want for Christmas" by Mariah Carey).

As the tree began to take shape, you noticed a thoughtful expression on Kirishima's face. "You know, the holidays are about spreading warmth and joy. Just like us heroes do for people every day."

While decorating, you couldn't help but admire how focused he was, his crimson eyes gleaming with the joy of the season.

"How about we add some glitter for that extra sparkle?" you proposed, holding up a container of sparkling gold dust.

"Glitter! Yeah! Let's do it!" Kirishima grinned, letting you sprinkle glitter over the tree. The soft glow of the lights caught the glitter, creating a magical shimmer.

As you stepped back to admire your work, Kirishima wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close. "Our tree will be the best, just like us," he declared proudly.

You both shared a quiet moment appreciating the significance of the season. The room was filled not only with the soft glow of Christmas lights but also with the warmth of shared moments and love.

With the tree now fully adorned, Kirishima looked at you with a satisfied grin on his face. "Our Christmas tree is a masterpiece! Just like our relationship, right?"

You nodded, feeling a surge of gratitude for the moments you shared with Kirishima. The room seemed to glow with a magical aura, and you couldn't help but be swept away by the festive spirit. "It's truly beautiful, Kiri!"

As you both sat on the couch, surrounded by the glow of the Christmas tree, Kirishima pulled you into a warm embrace. "Merry early Christmas, my love. Here's to many more holidays together, full of laughter and love! Mind taking a quick pic for my Insta? Gotta show off our epic Christmas tree!"

He went back to the tree, and struck a pose, flexing his muscles.

You snapped a few shots for him. "There, I'm sure your fans will love it."

"Thanks! But the one I want to post is with you. C'mere."

He took his phone grom you, adjusting the angle to frame both of you and the tree. As you stood side by side, Kirishima wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close, kissing your cheek. The lights and ornaments created a festive backdrop for the photo.

Click! The camera captured the moment, freezing it in time. Kirishima eagerly checked the photo, a wide smile spreading across his face. "This is truly delightful. I couldn't have wished for anything more this Christmas."

#bnha fluff #mha fluff #eijiro kirishima #eijiro kirishima x reader #eijiro kirishima fluff #kirishima fluff #kirishima x reader #kirishima #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima eijiro fluff #fluff oneshot #mha kirishima #mha drabble #mha oneshot #red riot #kirishima x you #kirishima x y/n

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hardlyinteresting · 3 months

Note

I've been thinking about Hotch playing poker / cards. Hes so competitive 😂 imagine having game nights with him

You're so right.

Hotch isn't the world's greatest poker player, but so long as Reid isn't in the game he can manage to hold a winning streak. Rossi invites him to a lot of his poker nights, but he rarely accepts, he prefers to spend his nights off with family. But, when he does get roped into evenings of whiskey, cigars, and card games that will surely hurt his wallet he admittedly enjoys himself. Plus, the satisfaction of taking money from Rossi is impossible to resist sometimes.

Aaron is too good at clue. While it's basically a game of probability, he's far too good at spotting patterns and two turns in he's figured out the mystery just based off of the cards in his hands, and the questions the other players have asked. He tries to be a good sport about it and hold back to let everyone else have fun, but he wins every time. (Side note: Aaron Hotchner is absolutely a fan of the 1985 film inspired by the board game. It's quirky and hilarious and camp. It gets him laughing every single time).

He's ruthless when he plays monopoly. He's got hotels built, and he's claiming rent on half of the board. He's a mastermind and it's fascinating to watch but it doesn't make it any less painful when you have to hand over stacks of colourful bills to him for landing on one of his properties. He also pouts every time he lands in jail or misses a turn.

Scrabble is fun. He's a nerd and not enough people take the time to notice that about him. He has a wide ranging vocabulary, but he takes more satisfaction in playing silly words than he does in spelling out big fancy words. Emily and JJ have definitely convinced him to start playing words with friends. When you find him glaring at his phone or his iPad on a Saturday afternoon there's a very good chance one of them just got a high word score. When the two of you play each other a glass of wine in your hand he's all smiles. He spells out I LOVE YOU with the pieces when you're getting ready to put the the board away for the night

No one on that team should be allowed to play uno. They played once at a gathering with a deck JJ brought from home. Never again. They can hunt serial killers, face trauma, and get held at gun point together, but none of them can play uno without spitting out threats or insults.

#aaron hotchner x reader #response #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds fic #hotch x reader #answered

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gavisuntiedboot · 1 year

Text

Just Pretend (Gavi x reader)

Part 7

Warnings: oh boy okay so Angst! profanity! Violence! Mentions of blood! Injury! Abusive-ish behavior!!! MARTIN!!!!!! Ferran! Blackmail!! Just shitty behavior!!!! pls don't read if you're not comfortable!

Word Count: 14.1k (fun fact! If you've read all 7 parts, you've read 87 pages single space!)

A/N: Guys this is one of the chapters I had planned out from the beginning. I really have poured a lot of my own soul into this, so I hope y'all enjoy! I'm actually so ready to read the reactions to this one lol. GIF by @rubendiasatl

You thought you had met the love of your life in college. He appeared to be perfect. He was the captain of the swim team, rumored to get a national championship that year in the 100m freestyle. He was the secretary of Phi Pi Delta, the largest business fraternity in the region, set to work on Wall Street making $200k right after graduation. You two were the perfect couple: Ryan, with his perfect hair and perfect smile, the sexy, sporty Spanish girl on his arm. You were conquering medicine as he ruled the world of finance. Sometimes on your walk to class, you would daydream about what your wedding would look like.

You did everything that was required of you as "Ryan's girl". You were an academic badass, but in a completely different field, so he could have a smart girl that would never be his competition. You worked as a sports manager, showing that "Ryan's girl" was a powerhouse on her own that commanded respect, but turned into a shy little lamb around her man. You worked hard and played harder, going to every PPD event and mixer. You always drank to show people that you weren't a prude, but you were never the girl hunched over the toilet losing her innards. You were good at beer pong, but only when Ryan was your partner. You played 7 minutes in heaven, but were so cold and intimidating that everyone left with blue balls and a muttering of "what a bitch". For 8 months of your senior year, you were "Ryan's girl", and you were the absolute best at playing the part.

It was a tiring job, but one you balanced with all your other actions. You learned how to get him and his friends basketball tickets mere hours before tipoff. You were an expert at covering hickies, but also enhancing them when he wanted to prove to the guys at a rival frat that he wasn’t soft. You killed your complaints and your gag reflex, knees growing used to the rough carpet of the frat house. You never asked for his location, and never made a face when other girls talked about how much they wanted your man. You never bored him with talks of your futures after graduation. You were perfect.

You looked perfect the day you walked into the frat house, hair pulled back in a slick ponytail to show off the piercings in your ear and the tightness of your polo shirt. Your khakis hugged your thighs, Jordan’s pristine as you slipped them off before heading upstairs. The basketball team had offered you a full time position; you could stay for the next several years if you so chose. Everything was perfect. The sky was the perfect shade of blue. The air was the perfect temperature with a perfect breeze. And as you opened the door to your boyfriend’s room, you saw a bare figure on top of him, connected at their cores, with her mouth shaped in a perfect “O”. And one perfect tear ran down your cheek as you silently walked back down the stairs, ignoring the yells about it not being what it looked like, and left Ryan behind forever.

You hadn’t thought about Ryan in years. But his memory came back to you as you pulled up to Martin’s house and found his car parked out in front of his door instead of it’s usual place in the garage. The Benz stared back at you, looking so different from that first date. It had been bright and welcoming and joyous that very first time it rolled up in front of your building. Now it was different, the blue taking on a more hue, feeling ominous and serious. It was the color of midnight - the color of fear. Why was the precious Benz parked out front? Martin wouldn't even let some valets park his car for fear of it getting scratched. His tires were still turned. The Benz was crooked in the driveway.

You walked up to the door, and you thought about Ryan again. You thought about the countless texts he sent you afterwards, telling you how much he loved you and how he would never do it again. And you read every single one, waiting with baited breath for him to say what you needed to hear: that he regretted it. That he had made a terrible mistake when he was out of his mind and he hated every second. But it never came. He wanted you, but he never regretted that moment with her. He never felt remorse about the moment he decided she was more important than you were. It didn't make you sad or angry - just empty. It was like a hold had been carved out, and it was another reminder that it would never be filled. You would never be the first choice. You would never be that girl that was above it all. You would always be a pretty good girl that needed to be supplemented by someone else.

The hole within you had not been filled, but it started to be covered by some good people in your lives. Your friends at your physiology program made you always feel competent and capable in what you were doing in school. Angelika and your other university friends gave you comfort, covering the emptiness with warm feelings. And now, you had the boys at Barca had worked to cover that hole with positive affirmations, reminding you that you were just as much a part of the team and how much you were valued. And there was a bit of the hole that started to close, one centimeter at a time, every time you looked at your phone and saw that Gavi was checking up on you.

You felt that hole fill with butterflies as you wrote out your Christmas card to him. You hadn't wanted it to come across as cheesy or desperate, despite you reassuring yourself that you couldn't be desperate if you were in a relationship. You had begged the media team for any photo of you and Gavi, knowing how much the sentiment would mean to him. One thing you had noticed during your two brief appearances in Pablo's home was his appreciation for the few pictures he had. They were taped to the wall beside the door: photos from his youth at his La Masia matches, his family on vacation, and a polaroid with a few of the Barca boys. A part of you hoped you would make it onto the wall.

But with each knock on Martin's door that went unanswered, the butterflies disintegrated, filling you with smoke and ash and bile, the hole in your very soul aching. As you turned the doorknob, you felt it give way easily - the door was unlocked. He had come home, car parked haphazardly, with the door remaining unlocked. You braced yourself, not exactly sure for what, and entered the house.

You should have seen it coming. You should have known from his demeanor and the way he spoke to you when you were with him versus when you were away. You should have listened to the whispers on the internet and in the locker room. But you ignored it all, believing that people were inherently good and caring. And now your naivety had all culminated and led to this moment: you standing in Martin's entryway, staring at his hideous brown couch, a trail of clothes leading from your feet to the naked girl perched on the dark fabric. The two of you locked eyes, and her mouth dropped agape. She grabbed the closest piece of fabric to cover her bare form, her pale cheeks turning scarlet from embarrassment.

"Bonita, hurry up so I can call my girl-"

Martin's eyes locked with yours, stopping dead in his tracks and freezing as his girl on the couch did. You waited for either of them to speak. With baited breath you waited for the feminine screams of "you have a girlfriend?" and the begs to provide an explanation. But the air was heavy with nothing but guilt and the disappointment of being caught. As your breath grew heavier, the nausea settled into your stomach. You tried to muster a tear, deciding it would be less embarrassing to cry than to throw up on the tile.

"Bonita, it's not what it looks like. If we could just talk-"

"How are you going to use the same pet name for the both of us?" You asked, patience finally snapping. The emotions from the last four months came flooding through, boiling the blood in your veins. You had cut yourself up and torn your very being apart to please this man. The things you wore and said and did and ate and enjoyed were all altered to fit his impossible standard. You were playing a part again. You had sacrificed so much of yourself for one crumb of affection and security, and once again you weren't enough.

"Just calm down an let me explain."

You tried with every fiber of your being to keep the tears at bay - you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he hurt you.

"All I ever did was try and be a good girlfriend. Do you realize that? Through the stupid dinner dates and your rants about football, I tried to be patient and fun and understanding. I never complained, not once, about your lack of support or how everything you did made it clear you didn't like me. I dealt with all of your cold fronts, your unfounded jealous, your below mediocre sex - all of it, because that's what you do when you're in a fucking relationship until someone finally cuts the cord and frees you both. But you didn't have the decency to pretend." You spat the words out at him, no longer caring about if you cried.

"The least you could do was not fuck anyone else in the house that you asked me to move in to."

Everyone on the room had gone silent, from Martin to his mistress. How could he retaliate? Where could he start? The flood gates had been opened, and the realization of how much this man made you hate your life was flowing freely.

"Goodbye Martin." You turned and walked out the door, your keys in hand, ready to go home and lose consciousness. Tomorrow you would wake up and be as you were - single and free of the burden this relationship placed on you.

"Come back here." You heard Martin's voice shout behind you, before a hand reached out and grabbed you by the wrist, ripping your keys from your hands, cutting your palm in the process. As the red fluid pooled in your palm, you looked up at Martin in shock and fear. He looked back at you, then at your outstretched hand still pooling with blood.

"Shit, I'm- I didn't mean to do that. But you can't just drive away until you let me speak. I won't let you."

"As if you're allowed to decide what I can and can't do. Give me back my keys before I call the police."

"You're not calling anyone or doing anything until I speak to you." Martin said, lunging at you and grabbing the sleeve of your shirt. You cried out and struggled against him as he tried to pull you towards the house, hoping to prevent a scene in front of the neighbors. Martin's side piece stood at the door, now fully clothed, watching silently as the two of you struggled by the entryway.

"Get off of me you cheating sack of shit! I don't want to hear anything you have to say, let me go!" His grip loosened as you pulled away, unable to restrain you with both hands for fear you would take your car keys back.

"Bonita, I'm not trying to hurt you, I love you and I-"

"Bullshit! And stop calling me fucking bonita." You tried to reach for your keys again, but Martin's hand came and wrapped tightly around the collar of your shirt.

"No. You don't get to abandon me without hearing what I have to say. All I have ever done is try and look past how difficult you are to love and be around," his grip tightened on your collar, the fabric now bunching to restrict your airway slightly. "And now that I've made one mistake you think you get to just run? You're not going anywhere until I say you can. If you know what's good for you, you'll just listen."

The bile started to rise in your throat as your heart beat faster. For the first time in your life, you really felt like you were in danger. The sting of your palm was hard to ignore now, the blood nestling into the lines on your palm, dots littered across your pant leg. Once you felt Martin's grip loosen lightly, you put all your weight behind you and shoved him as hard as you could, causing him to fall backwards. You bolted for the door, keys forgotten as you ran at a speed you didn't know you were capable of.

The fall did not deter him for long, as you heard your name in Martin's deep, agitated voice carry to your ears on the night air, accompanied by heavy, fast footsteps. You were being chased. Heart racing, your feet slammed against the pavement, trying to put as much space between the two of you as possible. Your throat started to tighten with anxiety, fight or flight now in full control. You didn't even know where you were going. You took whatever turn felt natural, willing yourself not to turn around.

Martin realized with every step he took that it was too late to turn back. There was now street camera of him chasing you shirtless through the streets of a Barcelona neighborhood. He wasn't even sure why he had done it. By it he meant the chasing - not the sleeping with other women. That part was quite simple. He was 24 now, and it was time he was photographed with the same girl more than once. His club going days had become the topic of every family dinner and every call with his mother.

"Martin, when are you going to stop going to the club every night and actually bring us a nice girl? You're ruining your reputation by taking all these different girls home."

He was nothing if not a boy that wanted to make his mother happy. When he say Angelika in the club that day, he sensed he had been getting close. She was funny and outgoing and actually had a job that didn't involve her sponsoring Bang energy on the internet. But she was still at the club on a Tuesday night, and had flirted her way into the VIP section. Too high maintenance. But then as he left the club, pretty young drunk thing slung over his arm, he got to see you.

Initially, you didn't make a huge impression. Boring looking and kind of loud - not the girl he would usually go for. He was still a little hazy from the club air, sweat and tequila still lingering in his lungs. He had just handed Angelika off to you, before he took a look at the back of your car. A few stickers were there, displaying the name of your universities, and a bright blue one that read 'ask me about ACL tears!'. It sparked his interest - not only that you could afford the car, but that you were obviously decently intelligent to be touting all these universities. It prompted Martin to ask for your number, just as a backup in case finding a "good girl" was harder than he thought.

It was, in fact, much harder than he thought to find a girl to bring home to his mother. All the smart girls tended not to give him the time of day, either taken or too busy. Pretty girl were too expensive and high strung - not what he needed. And those sweet girls that he found at the supermarket and the park? Most of them were ready to live the football WAG life, wanting to go public with him immediately. If there's one thing Martin was sure of, it was that he wasn't ready too commit to just one screw for any period of time. He had a rotation of girls in and out of his bed, shower, car - he couldn't just cut all of them off.

That's exactly what was on his mind when he saw Angelika in line for the club again. She was cute enough to take home that night, but girls usually didn't open up without some conversation. He can't remember how the topic turned to you, but Angelika gushed about how much she adored you.

"But she's just so busy. She's always so focused on work that she doesn't have much time to even process what's going on around her."

Getting you was quite easy after that. He had listened to girls long enough to understand how to keep them happy. It was the lack of instant sex that really hurt his pride. This was not the 1940s - he was not going to wait 3 months, taking a girl out and showering her with love, just to get some pussy. He would just supplement with other women. Ferran was often the person that would help him get girls, as they usually recognized the young Barca bench boy before they realized who Martin was. So they worked as a team: Martin supplying money and alcohol, and Ferran supplying girls.

It was when Gavi started to enter the picture that he, for the first time in his life, felt the angry weeds of jealousy take root in his throat. No matter what he did behind closed doors, you were his, not Gavi's, and it would be a cold day in hell before he let a love-sick teenager take his girl. Now he was chasing you down the street, 10 days before he planned to introduce you to his mother at Christmas, willing all the neighbors to stay away from the windows and ignore the eventual screams they heard from the street.

Your eyes focused, the adrenaline fog leaving your brain as you wildly scanned the street: this was Gavi's neighborhood. Identifying the houses, you made a sharp right turn and ran towards his house at end of the street. You prayed that he was still awake as you got to the door, banging as hard as you could, and yelling out his name.

"Pablo! Let me in! Get the fuck away from me!"

You watched as Martin slowed down, walking towards you cautiously with his hands in the air. He moved his lips to say something, but your heartbeat was in your ears, tears streaming down your face as you kept banging on the door. The slit across your palm seared with pain, and every pang circulated more fear through you. Martin was capable and willing to hurt you.

The door opened, and you caught a glimpse of Gavi's face. That was enough reassurance for your legs to give out from the effort, sobs still shaking your entire being as you fell into his chest. Your palms grabbed at his shirt, needing anything to ground you in reality. Gavi was not a large boy; Martin had 5 inches and 6 years on Gavi, which would make any betting man wary of the outcome if a fight were to break out. But none of that mattered to you. Gavi's arms were around you, holding you up and against him, and you felt safe.

Gavi tore his eyes away from Martin, who was shirtless and frozen in his walkway, to look at you. As he pulled you away from his chest slowly, he felt a warm wet spot spread across his shirt. It was too large to be tears. He wished he hadn't looked down to see the red spot darkening his t-shirt. Grabbing your wrists, he looked at the jagged cut on the skin there, still bleeding freely. Gavi hugged you closer into his chest, one hand around your waist and one by your head, hiding you in his shoulder as you continued to cry.

"What did he do?" He asked, voice tight and strained. You shook your head, crying harder, trying to gulp down any air to stop the light-headedness. You could not see or think straight, the questions too overwhelming.

"Pablito, just let me talk to my girl, and go back inside." Martin instructed, walking towards the two of you slowly, as a hunter would approach a deer. You clung onto Gavi tighter, a shrill 'No!' yelped against his skin, sobs coming back in full force. Gavi couldn't stand it. The blood in his veins grew hotter the longer he held your fragile form. He was quick to anger, but this was different. You had run to his house crying and bleeding because of the vile man you had been dating. On an average day, he was ready to go to blows because of a stray leg in a football match. This was more serious - more sinister. He had hurt you in ways Gavi couldn't fathom a man hurting any woman, let alone you. He turned over the idea of manslaughter in his head as he tried again.

"Please, y/n. Please tell me what he did. Because at this rate, I'm going to kill him. Y/n, please."

Gulping down breath after desperate breath, you muttered out what had happened to Gavi in the best way you could. You knew there was nothing you could say to get Gavi to just walk away, but you couldn't stand the idea of Pablo doing irreparable damage to his future on your behalf.

"Found him... cheating... took my... k-keys.. that's why m-my hand. But I'm-"

"Don't you dare tell me you're okay." Gavi put you down on the ground, resting your back against the wall before he stood. The edges of his vision were dark and red, and in that moment he swore he could have killed Martin with his bare hands. When would this man have taken enough? Martin had snatched you off the market, keeping you hostage in a crumbling, decaying relationship while Gavi fawned over you. Martin chipped away at you soul, dimming the once radiant light that enamored those you encountered. Martin made you insecure and self-hating, all while keeping a line of girls wrapped around his bedroom to fool around with as you chased your dreams. Martin had taken everything Gavi had loved about you and poisoned it, leaving the ashes of a bright young woman in his path. Now he would pay for it.

"Martin, give me her keys and get the fuck away from my property before I make your mother regret the day she lost her virginity." Gavi was seething, You looked up at his squared shoulders and tight face, and couldn't tell if the wisps of smoke emanating from him were real or not. You wanted to stand, block the warpath Pablo was on, and prevent the violence you knew was about to ensue, but your head and eyes felt heavy, keeping you firmly planted to the ground.

"Ay, Pablito, no need to be vulgar. Don't you think it's silly for you to be involving yourself in a little lover's quarrel at this time? Go inside and let me take care of my girlfriend." Martin took a step with every word he said, now less than a meter from Gavi, whose fists were curled and strained.

"Lover's quarrel? She's bleeding and had to run from you screaming. You've stolen her keys and now you want me to let you harass her further? Give me her keys and fuck off, before my patience runs out. Because I've been eager to bash your skull for weeks now."

Martin took another step forward, now on the same plane as you and Gavi. He locked Pablo's vision as he pulled your keys from his pocket, tossing them at your feet. You flinched at the noise scared to look up at Martin. Just the sound of his voice sent ripples through you.

"There, bonita. You have your keys back. Now enough of this nonsense and come with me." A fist curled into your hair and pulled you upwards, causing a scream to release from your throat. Gavi watched all of this happen in slow motion. He took two steps towards Martin, vision now fully red, and connected his closed fist with Martin's lower jaw. The accompanying CRACK could probably have been heard all the way in Madrid. The grip had disappeared from your head, and you used your last bit of strength to push yourself from the floor and run into Gavi's house, keys firmly in your grasp for protection. You peered through the window, catching Martin spit out a large glob of blood, more crimson dripping from his mouth like a dog drooling.

Martin wasn't provided much more time to recover as Gavi grabbed his collar, pulling him in once again, and again cracking him hard right beneath his eye socket. The delicate skin there split, and more blood oozed from Martin. It didn't bring Gavi disgust or joy. There was no space in his entire being to feel anything other than the need to protect you. Moving his grasp from Martin's collar to his hair, he hit him one final time, a bone split and a scream polluting the otherwise silent air of the Barcelona night. You thought to yourself, rather ironically, if the naked girl in his living room knew how to set a broken nose. Pablo pushed Martin to the ground, the older landing on his face sprawled across the concrete of the pavement.

"If you get up and you're not running, I'll break another bone."

Martin struggled to breath, the blood running away from his body in rivers, dripping onto the street.

"You little piece of shit! Just wait till I call the police! You'll be in jail until you're 70. You little cunt." Martin wailed, on his knees gripping his throbbing fractured nose. Gavi approached Martin, picking him up by the collar once again. It was quite a sight to behold: the younger and smaller boy lifting Martin off the ground, blood dripping from a broken nose on to Gavi's tensed forearm, as his hazel eyes conveyed murderous intent.

"In case the blood has already left your brain, allow me to remind you: the cameras saw you chasing a woman through the street. There is a decent amount of her blood on you and at your house. Everything from that moment on is self defense. And I can absolutely afford a better lawyer than you can, little boy. So best run and put some ice on that nose before you become more permanently deformed than you were originally." Martin was thrown to the pavement once again, cries of pain bouncing between the stone of the buildings. He picked himself off the ground, not daring to glance over his shoulder, as he hobbled back home.

Gavi took a deep breath, looking down at his hands in the light of the street lamp. It had been a long time since his anger was allowed to run wild. Usually there was a player (or 6) holding him back from blows. But that was football. Nothing was ever that serious in football. This was different. It was you. And as he entered his home, locking eyes with your huddled form by his couch, the thought appeared in his mind clear as crystal: you were someone he would kill for, and someone he would die for.

But now wasn't the time for such a confession. It was the time for Gavi to step up as your friend and provide you with comfort and support. He walked into the house and started to head for the bathroom before you called out to him.

"Pablo? Where are you going?" Your voice was small and fragile, like that of a scared child when the thunder got too loud. Keys still gripped tightly in shaky hands, you pushed yourself off the floor, and Gavi rushed to meet your stride, helping stabilize you as you stood. You were not close to fainting anymore, but the fear still pumped through you, making it harder to walk at more than a snail's pace. Eyes locking with Gavi's, you brought a hand up to rest on his bicep, squeezing it lightly to provide him with some reassurance that you were okay. Hand trailing down, you wrapped your fingers gently around his wrists, turning his hands over to look at his knuckles. The skin had cracked and burst from the impact against Martin's skull. Bruises bloomed on the high points, droplets of blood - owner unknown - littered his fingers and hand, the scarlet a contrast against his warm tan. As you ran a thumb over one of the open cuts, Gavi hissed, trying to pull away from your touch. You looked back up at him with tears welling in your eyes anew.

"You're hurt." You croaked out, not wanting to continue crying in front of him. He grabbed your hand, holding it against his as he rubbed over the drying cut through your palm.

"So are you. But we'll be okay." He smiled at you, and you could have sworn that there was an actual fist squeezing your heart in your chest. He pulled you towards the staircase with him.

"Come on, we need to wash our hands. You've taught me enough about infections to know we shouldn't wait much longer."

"I obviously haven't taught you enough, because for open cuts like this we need rubbing alcohol and hydrogen peroxide, not water."

Gavi stopped on the stairs, still gripping your wrist as his smile broke out, returning warmth to his face. Even when he had hit Martin, you hadn't feared Pablo. You knew the anger was residual, and he would never turn this harbored rage your direction. It had brought a few baby butterflies to your stomach, knowing that Gavi had thrown his tranquility and caution to the wind just to defend you. But this was the Pablo you liked the most: the one that smiled for you in a way that seemed to appear only when you were around.

"There you go, doctora. Putting that degree to use. I think I have a first aid kit in my room. The medics gave me one to keep after I got my second black eye." The statement, not meant as a joke, allowed a laugh to run through you, cutting through some of the lingering heaviness. You wondered if this experience would forever trauma-bond you to Gavi forever. But you knew subconsciously that Pablo was already bonded to you. You would never be able to look at the Barca crest or the dew on the grass or the chocolate milk in the store without thinking of Pablo. You would never be able to choose anyone else's contact at 2am to send a random text to, because you need Pablo to be the one to send the response. You knew in that moment that Pablo was going to be in your life forever.

Walking into his bedroom, Pablo peeled his blood-stained shirt off, tossing it onto the bed.

"You should..." Your sentence trailed off as Pablo faced you, shirtless with sweats hanging low on his hips, waistband of his boxers tight against the V of his torso. You had seen attractive men shirtless before, but something about it being Pablo, and the two of you being alone in his bedroom, made everything seem more charged and, for lack of a better term, sinful. He tiled his head in questioning, prompting you to finish your sentence. Clearing your throat, you looked at the shirt instead of Pablo and continued.

"You should put peroxide on that shirt now to get the blood out so it doesn't stain."

"I think getting some peroxide on your open wound is more important right now." He said, returning to his dresses to rummage around for his first aid kit. You stood awkwardly against the wall, unsure how to proceed. You didn't feel comfortable enough to sit on his bed, and though it would be weird to seat yourself on Gavi's floor. He turned back around, watching you scan the room and calculate if you should sit or stand.

"You're covered in blood." He said. You looked down at your shirt. You definitely had some splotches, but you wouldn't use the word covered.

"It's fine, I'll change when i get home..." You trailed off again. Your car was outside Martin's house, and there was no way you could possibly bring yourself to go back there tonight. Maybe Gavi would be kind enough to walk over with you in the dark.

"You're spending the night here. There's no way I'm going to let you be by yourself tonight. Let me get you something to change into." He said, moving past you towards the closet.

"Oh no, Pablo, it's fine. I should really go back to my place-"

"Why?" He asked, abruptly turning to face you. He walked towards you, and your heart rate picked up as he stood within your air space.

"Why do you need to go home? We are on international break for the season. I don't start training until next week. You just finished your finals, so you don't need to do anything tomorrow. And, more importantly, the only way to get to your house is to either go get your car from your psycho abusive ex and drive home at this time of night, which is not happening. Or for you to take a taxi home, which is also not happening. I'm not letting you out of my sight." He turned back to the closet, rummaging through his clothes before pulling out a pair of sweat pants and a La Masia t-shirt. Placing them in your hands, he turned back to his mission to find the first aid kit.

"The bathroom is through there. You can go and get changed and wash up. What's mine is yours."

Nodding, you shuffled towards the bathroom. The door was quickly shut and locked behind you, and you stared at yourself in the mirror. You definitely looked worse for wear, mascara smudged under your eyes, which were red and puffy from sobbing. You washed your face with your non-injured hand, thanking Pablo silently for owning a decent face wash. As you stripped off your dirty clothes, you couldn't help the images that flashed in your mind, and the thoughts that seeped through your subconscious. You remembered the daydreams you had for several weeks, bursts of his eyes and lips and hands, and thoughts of all the ways they could touch you. Your cheeks burned as you grabbed a washcloth, running cool water onto your skin to remove the sweat and grime lingering. You thought of that day on the couch, when you had finally entertained the idea of seeing Pablo in a sexually attractive light. Bumps raised onto your skin as you fully wrapped your head around the situation. You were in your underwear in Gavi's bedroom, only a bathroom door separating the two of you.

A part of you wanted to open the door - to present yourself to Pablo, physically and emotionally bare, and tell him your feelings. But what were your feelings? You felt safe with Pablo, supported, and able to be your authentic self. Was this a friendship that you had over committed to? Was Pablo treating you any differently to how he would treat Pedri or one of the boys? You pushed those feelings aside, slipping on his clothes, breathing the scent of his detergent in deeply. You took one last glance in the mirror, reminding yourself that you had a tendency to spontaneously combust when it came to relationships, and you wouldn't allow yourself to do that with Pablo. He was going to be in your life for a long time - you wouldn't accept anything otherwise - but maybe the role he was meant to fill was that of a close friend and never more.

You walked out and saw Pablo rubbing his bare chest with an alcohol pad, cleaning the excess blood from his chest. He had changed into some clean shorts, and turned to face you when he heard the door. His eyes scanned you from top to bottom, taking in the sight. His shirt hung off your shoulders slightly, draped over your frame and covering your form in worn cotton fabric. His sweats hugged your hips, sliding precariously low on your torso and lose in the thighs, just small enough for them to not pool at your ankles. Gavi's mouth went dry as he stared at you. You crossed your arms over your chest, covering yourself with your folded dirty clothes. Gavi caught a glimpse of your bra in the pile. He had no moisture in his mouth whatsoever.

"What are you staring at, Gavi? Close your mouth you'll catch a fly." You said, trying to come across cool and unbothered despite the situation. He swallowed hard, trying to form a single sentence.

"They fit. I'm surprised." That was all he could muster.

"Me too. I thought everything would be too short on me." You teased, and he rolled his eyes.

"Low blow, doctora. come help me with these bandages."

He sat on the floor with the first aid kit, and you joined him on the soft rug, protecting from the chill of the tile in December. You grabbed the different solutions and began cleaning his hands. His hands were rough and calloused to the touch, and you made a mental note to get him some lotion as a late Christmas gift. You moved slowly over each knuckle, cleaning the blood and bruises, gently moving your fingers across Pablo's skin. You heard gentle hisses at the burning sensation from the alcohol, but he kept his protests to a minimum as you worked.

It was easy for Gavi to distract himself from the pain when you were the one sitting in front of him. The burn of his hands was basically forgotten as he traced the curves of your face with his eyes. That familiar look of concentration settled into your features, warming Gavi's heart. You were coming back, in short bursts and fleeting moments, but everything he loved about you was still there. Try as he did, he could not prevent his eyes from moving lower, settling on his shirt draped over you. It was one of his most well-loved shirts - the one that he had gotten when he began playing for La Masia's senior team. This is when he started to bulk up, biceps and pecs stretching out the shirt, creating the baggy look he currently saw on you. The colors had faded from dozens of washes, and it was now pilling and threadbare - really something that should never see the light of day.

But here you were wearing it, and suddenly there was no article of clothing that had ever made a woman look sexier. The baggy fabric moved with you, and when you turned behind you to gram more gauze, it tightened against your bare chest, and Gavi willed himself not to focus on it. He couldn't - not right now. No matter how much he tried to rationalize it, he couldn't describe what about it made the shirt look so good on you. It was just the fact that it was his shirt. You were in his house, in his bedroom, wearing his shirt. You were merging with his space, and in a way, becoming a part of his home. It was the closest you had ever been to being his.

You finished bandaging his hands, looking at your work, and making sure that everything was secure so he wouldn't lose the dressings in his sleep. Engrossed in the moment, you leaned down and kissed the top of Gavi's knuckles, pulling back before realizing what you did. You both stared at each other, mutually deciding it was best not to comment on what just occurred. You quickly cleaned and dressed your own cut, with Gavi's assistance, and once the bandage was secured, a wave of exhaustion washed over you. All the boxes were finally ticked - you and Gavi were safe and clean and dressed, and now your body felt relaxed enough to crash from the exhaustion of the day. Pablo noticed your eyes drooping, and moved off the floor, helping you stand as well.

"Let me go get an extra blanket." He said, moving towards the door. You followed him out of the room, and he turned to you, confused.

"Where are you going?" He asked, arm against the wall and blocking your path.

"The other room?" You said, phrasing it as a question.

"The guest room doesn't have a bed in it yet. My sister is helping me pick one out since she visits the most often."

"To the couch, then." You said, and Pablo's eyebrows scrunched together in frustration.

"You're not sleeping on the couch. You've had a stressful day to say the least. You're going to sleep on the ridiculously expensive mattress and get a good night's rest."

"Then where are you going to sleep?" You asked, heart skipping a beat at some of the possible answers.

"The couch. I want to give you your space. Let me go get that extra blanket - the top floor gets cold in the winter."

You grabbed his arm stopping him from continuing down the staircase.

"You're not going to destroy your back by sleeping on the couch again. You're about to get called up for the national team, and their physios suck. They will replace you with a 3rd tier player before they help you fix a dorsal muscle strain. You have to sleep on the bed Pablo."

"I don't actually have to do anything. This is my house."

You both stared at each other, the two of you unmoving on your position, and both ignoring the obviously solution to your argument. After a minute, it was Pablo who was brave enough to make the suggestion.

"We could always just... both sleep on the bed. If you're comfortable with that. We can made a divider in the middle and everything."

Blushing, you looked at the floor before responding.

"Wouldn't be the first time."

Gavi got into bed, shirtless in a pair of shorts, and beckoned you to join. You walked slowly to the other side of the bed, crawling in and pulling up the covers, body stiff and muscles tense.

"I forgot to get the lights." You whispered quietly, making a move to get up. Suddenly the lights switched off, leaving the two of you in complete darkness, a weak ray of light filtering in from the half-moon.

"Expensive houses have a lot of pointless features, but this one is actually useful." Pablo said quietly, mentally kicking himself for making small talk about a light switch. He curled on his side away from you, uncomfortable but wanting to give you your own space, and let out a deep breath. You peered at Gavi, and then curled the other way, also in discomfort, but too scared to face him while conscious. It was too much. He was so close: enough to hold in your arms, to exchange body heat, to listen to his heartbeat and be lulled to sleep. But it was too much of a leap to take. It was too far out of your comfort zone, and you couldn't risk the delicate relationship with a desperate and ill-timed proclamation of... whatever it was you were feeling.

Pablo's heart hammered in his chest. Though it had been his idea, he had never actually thought it through. You had fallen asleep on his shoulder before, and he had survived, so he figured this experience wouldn't be that much harder. He was so sorely mistaken. The fact that you were laying an arm's length away from him kept his nerves on fire, and he couldn't even keep his eyes closed for more than a minute as the time. Despite the winter chill, his body was on fire, and the lack of clothing didn't help. You had just been attacked by your ex boyfriend, and Gavi wanted to hold you in his arms and protect you from the entire world. Patience wasn't his best trait, but he knew that it wasn't the time to ask you to be his. He needed to wait. He needed to be there for you right now

"Pablo?"

An hour after the two of you had settled, lights off and room quiet, you called out for him. Sleep escaped the two of you, and he turned over almost instantly when he heard you whisper his name. Turning to face each other, your eyes adjusted so that you could look at his features in the dark. He was beautiful. There was no denying how conventionally attractive Pablo was. But there were so many little things that enhanced his beauty, only visible from this close. You wished the moon would shine a little brighter so that you could look at the flecks in his eyes, and count the lashes fluttering above them. His features were relaxed, lids drooping and lips slightly puffed out. The scars and moles on his face were the only markings on the smooth skin, and you longer to run your fingers through his hair, brushing it away from his eyes.

"Can... can we do something? To help me sleep? But then promise you'll forget about it tomorrow?"

Pablo swallowed hard for the nth time that night. He hesitated. There was no way he could promise to forget a single moment of this night with you, but he could control himself from speaking about it, and that was all he really needed to do.

"Anything."

You sat up in bed, moving quickly before your confidence evaporated completely. You moved in to the center of the bed, prompting Gavi to do the same. He moved slowly and warily, sitting shoulder to shoulder with you in the middle of the King-sized island.

"Lay down," You said, voice shaking slightly. You were terrified, but you knew that was the only way you would ever find rest before the sun came up. Pablo laid down, stiff as a board, half expecting you to make a desperate dash for the couch. You let out a shaky breath, closing your eyes before you laid down beside him. You turned on your side, resting a hand on Gavi's chest. Pablo's eyes widened as he finally processed what your request was. He raised his arm, draping it over your shoulders, allowing you to cuddle even closer into his side. Your head now laid on his bare chest, his hammering heart loud in your ear. He brought his other arm around you as well, resting his hand over yours on his chest. The two of you held each other close, seemingly for dear life, and finally sighed out in belief.

There was no way to describe this feeling. The feeling of you resting against Pablo, arms and legs tangled together, with his head rested above yours. Your hands together, occupying each others' air. There was no way to describe it except for right. There was no awkwardness or strained breathing anymore. There was relaxation and comfortable silence enveloping the two of you. The rest of the world faded away, and in that moment, Pablo could have sworn that he had ascended to heaven.

"You saved me Pablo." You whispered out against him, needing to tell him someway, somehow, how much you appreciated him.

"Anyone would have interfered, doctora." He whispered back, being bold and caressing the skin of your arm that he encased with his.

"Not just today. In general. Since I met you, Pablo, you've made my life better. I just wanted to let you know. Good night."

Gavi tensed so hard it set off a headache. He couldn't cry, not while you were in his arms. He had always been seen as an asset because of his skill, always being told how valuable he was in that respect. But you saw him as a person, and not only did you tolerate it, but you cherished it. You made him proud to be himself.

"You too, in ways you can't even imagine. Good night, y/n."

Despite the way it started, the international and Christmas break was rather uneventful. Your little "sleepover" with Gavi saw the two of you sleeping in until 1pm, a rare occurrence for the both of you. Usually you both had too much going on, both on the schedule and in your minds, to sleep for such prolonged times. Wiser minds might have stopped and questioned why being in each others' arms brought a wash of such immense peace, but alas. There was no such reflection. Only waking up in the middle of the day, exchanging awkward smiled before getting up to change. Gavi had awoken with your leg draped across him and half an erection, causing him to bolt for the bathroom when you turned to check your phone. He wanted to say something - anything - about the night before. But he had promised to "forget", sealing his lips until further notice.

He turned the shower to the coldest setting, trying to stay silent as he killed his hard-on in the least loving way possible. You took the opportunity to slip into your sweats from the night before, and putting Gavi's t-shirt back on. Yours still had bubbled blood from the events and peroxide of the previous night. As you sorted out your hair, Gavi emerged from the bathroom, towel slung around his hips, showing off his toned chest and deep V once again. You lifted yourself and turned to face the wall, looking up at the Lord through the ceiling and asking why you were being faced with such temptation.

"Don't look." Pablo instructed, and you heard the towel thud to the floor. It make your cheeks burn and you crossed your legs tightly. You tried to think of anything else to stop yourself from taking your medical history with Gavi and constructing a complete mental image.

"Pedri is going to ... do you want a clean shirt?" Gavi asked, now in a clean sweatshirt and jeans. There was something about seeing you in his clothes that made him borderline insane. He couldn't tell if he needed you to stop, or needed you to do it every day.

"Oh, no, this one is fine. Thanks again - I'll wash it and return it as soon as I can."

"You can keep it." Gavi replied, turning back to his closet. The last thing he needed was to become aroused whenever he saw the folded shirt in his house. He grabbed a sweatshirt and tossed it to you as well.

"Are you donating clothes to me now? My salary isn't that bad, Pablo." You laughed out as you caught it.

"It's December, doctora. You should know that it's not great to go out in the cold. Your hoodie is still in your car, so wear this for now. Speaking of - Pedri is on his way over. He's gonna drive your car back to your place, and we'll take his. That way you never need to go near that dick's house again."

You slipped the green sweatshirt over your head, and were instantly attacked with the smell of body wash and cologne. Gavi had worn this recently. You brought the sleeves up and took a deep breath again before rushing downstairs to follow Gavi. It was a one time occurrence - you wouldn't allow yourself to get close to Pablo like this again. You were coworkers, first and foremost.

The two of you climbed into Pedri's car, you in the driver's seat and Gavi in the passenger, fingers trembling as you took the familiar turns. You stopped about a block away, dropping Pedri off, and driving off to the café the three of you had agreed to meet at to avoid any chance of being followed. You made idle conversation with Gavi, the two of you feeling the obvious tension. Pedri brought you your car, and you left the boys, giving them both a quick hug goodbye before going home to process the insane 24 hours you just had.

The boys were headed back to Gavi's to pack before heading to Madrid for national team training. On the way home, Pablo bounced his leg, biting his lip and furrowing his eyebrows more than usual.

"Hermano," Pedri started, "whatever you need to say, please just say it."

"But I'm not supposed to."

"Then stop with the fucking anxious ticks! Either speak or stay silent, but don't drive me crazy. It's a long day." Pedri ended his scolding with a light laugh. He knew Pablo better than anyone, and could tell it was only a matter of time before the younger boy started to spill his guts. Gavi wanted to stay strong, holding the promise he made to you extra close to his heart and his honor, and picked up his phone to pass the time. He opened up his twitter, refreshing the feed.

"Oh fuck. I'm in trouble."

Yes, the break was rather uneventful. You filled your time with studying, revising medical plans, and watching the international matches on TV. You tried your best to stay inside to avoid seeing anybody. You were still mourning the end of your relationship with Martin. Despite the confirmation that Martin was borderline clinically insane, it still weighed heavily on you, day by day, that you had once again been cheated on. That you had once again molded yourself into the absolutely closest thing to perfection, and had again fallen short. The winter weather also made you more lethargic, less keen to go outside and interact with others. And finally, you were terrified of anyone on the street recognizing you.

In hindsight, you should have made Pedri just walk and get your car. Or you should have waited until you knew Martin wasn't home and done it yourself. Because the thing about Pedri's lush green mini Cooper was that is was one of the most recognized cars in Spain, and so girls would flock to every single one they saw. His car had been posted enough for the most dedicated to have the license plate committed to memory. So driving around in such a recognizable car with the most sought-after footballer in Spain might not have been the best idea - especially during the day when the window tints weren't as effective. It took less than an hour for you and Gavi's pictures to be circulated around fan accounts, with people commenting on everything. The fact that you were driving, the hoodie you were wearing, the way that Gavi looked at you- the list was endless.

It took another 4 hours for people to figure out who you were. @gaviraconcubine on twitter had thankfully recognized you as one of the physios from game clips, and informed the rest of the rabid mob. Some had been satisfied with the answer, while others believed this an even more damning piece of information.

@gaviraconcubine: ok so the girl Gavi was with in the car is one of the barca physios - all the squad follows her + some shots of her on the field ! Gavi nation we're safe ;P

4,788 Likes 2,003 Retweets 834 Replies

@barcabarcabarca : guys shes literally a staff member???? gavi cant talk to female staff now wtf

@mrspgavira : if he ignored all of us to fall in love with the first ugly ass girl he bumped into at work ill take a swim with a toaster

@88rizzing : so she just started w barca this szn and got gavi? alexa play mastermind

@loonastansbrazil : more drivers for gavi!! she too old to be his girl

Barca staff were on public record, and so by the end of the day, your social media, school, and entire life history had been published on social media for people to scrutinize. It had sent you spiraling, suddenly being at the center of extreme amounts of attention from teen girls and 45-year old Barca stans alike.

[Pablo]: hey

[Pablo]: im rlly sorry about all the stuff online

[Pablo]: it should all die down soon. will be done at 9pm and I can call you

So that's what you did. Cook, clean, study, watch football, and get in disguise if you ever needed to go out. You spent your evenings chatting with Gavi. First it was about the media circus that you two were going through.

"It'll die down eventually. I'll stand too close to another girl and then everybody will leave you alone."

"Or accuse you of being a cheater."

"Has enough time passed for us to make cheating jokes?"

But as your fears started to ease an your mentions dried up, the conversations went back to the casual, playful tone that always filled the air whenever you and Gavi conversed. It was easier to talk to Gavi than it was with anyone else. You still spoke to your other friends, checking in on Angelika periodically over text, but no one could fill an hour FaceTime call like Gavi could, making it feel like mere minutes. Often, the two of you were both lounging, you on your couch and him in whatever hotel bed the national team had provided. As the days went on, you grew more comfortable answering the phone sans makeup, showing the most natural parts of yourself to who was shaping up quickly to be your closest friend.

Returning to work after the break may have been harder than the break itself. The office was abuzz with the rumors about you and Gavi. For the first few days, you ignored all the chatter. You had seen enough online to know that not knowing was always better. You didn't care what anyone said about you, as long as you proved you were an asset to the team. That is until Antonio came into your office one day with a sealed envelope. He was finishing up with some loose ends in Barcelona, before making his way to the UK to start in Manchester after the January transfer window had closed. He walked into your office, a large manila envelope in hand, and placed it on your desk.

"What's this?" You asked, peering at it from behind your glasses. Antonio was not one to make jokes or pull pranks, so it confused you to see him now, giggling in your office like a school girl.

"Oh this? Nothing important. Just a backup plan. Now it's my turn to ask the questions." He said, coming around and sitting atop your desk.

"Is it true that you're sleeping with Gavi?"

It had been a long time since you had seethed with this much rage. First, shock and embarrassment flooded your veins, freezing you in place, leaving you like a deer in headlights before the question. Antonio's ringing laugh is what pulled you out of your trance. You quickly denied the rumor, stating that you and Gavi were friends, but everything remained strictly professional.

"We heard you went to his house after the last home game before the break, and didn't leave until the following day, and wearing his clothes as well! You don't have to lie to me, I won't tell Dr. G or Xavi. So how was he?"

You promptly instructed Antonio to get the hell out of your office, and you made a move to head to the practice field. How dare Gavi: tell people you slept together when you did nothing of the sort. Well, you did something of the sort, but not in that way! Your job was already in jeopardy as it was, and it didn't help your case to be allegedly sleeping with one of the players. Talk about acts that increase favoritism. As you turned to corner to head to the field, you were met with a hard chest instead. Looking up, you saw the one face you had been trying to avoid all week: Ferran.

"My favorite little nurse. I haven't seen you since before the break. How have you been?" His arms were crossed over his chest, smirk and arrogance across his face. He blocked your path, and you sighed before responding.

"I don't have time to chat, Ferran. I was headed to the practice field to speak to-"

"Gavi? Yeah, I don't think so. My hamstrings need work. You're coming with me."

You followed closely behind, annoyance bubbling in your throat as you followed Ferran to your office. He laid on the examination bed as you closed the door, using the small sink to wash your hands, and donning a pair of clean gloves as he rolled up his shorts and laid on his stomach.

"So sad to hear about you and Martin, y/n. You two really did make a cute couple. I saw him at the end of the break - he's really looking quite worse for wear."

Uncapping your athletic salve, you started working the mixture between your fingers before moving to Ferran's thigh.

"Yeah, well, that's what happens when you're a cheater. Usually quite a deal-breaker in a relationship."

You had resolved no to speak to the striker on your table, knowing that everything he said would only egg you on further, creating more opportunities for you to slip up and be unemployed. But there was something in you that Martin had broken, no, stolen, that made staying silent astronomically more difficult than it had been. So your tongue release from your cheek quicker than you could process, and you steeled yourself once again to work on his legs. What were his legs even tired from? It's not like he was playing regularly.

"You know that there's more than one way to cheat on a person, right?" Ferran questioned, folding his arms to get more comfortable on the table. You shifted your eyes to look at him, one brow raised in confusion. Your lip curled up in disgust, and again your found yourself speaking without intention.

"I don't want to hear about all the different ways he cheated on me. I know you two are friends or whatever, but I'm not interested in the rest of his dirty laundry."

"I'm not talking about Martin. The other cheater in question is you."

Movements slowing, you locked eyes with Ferran, who held your gaze with confidence - like he was holding all the cards, and you were none the wiser.

"I didn't go around sleeping with other people while I was in a committed relationship." You deadpanned, not enjoying how the morning was progressing.

"Right, that was Martin - how unoriginal if you both did the same thing. He went around and slept with a couple other girls to satisfy his base desires. It's bad, but what you did is much worse, little nurse."

You tore your gaze away from Ferran, working his legs with new vigor, restraining yourself from just grabbing onto the flesh and squeezing until he screamed out in pain.

"This is not a professional topic of conversation and you shouldn't bring it into the workplace." You replied, but your voice had started to waiver.

"Oh yes it is, because it revolves around one of your coworkers. While Martin was out working and training an doing other things - or other people - you were also being unfaithful. Sure you didn't sleep with someone, but you were in a 'committed relationship', as you put it, when you started to fall for Pablito."

You pulled your hands away from Ferran like he had spontaneously combust, running from the flames. The look of bewilderment was not one you could suppress in that moment. Your throat had gone completely dry, but you knew the longer you remained silent, the more Ferran would interpret it as a confirmation of his theory.

"That's - it's not true. Gavi and I are coworkers, friends if you really want to push it. It's highly inappropriate for you to assume otherwise. Look I know you want me to lose-"

"Lose your job?" Ferran laughed callously. "Oh no, hermosa. I love seeing you run around here in those tight scrubs, hair pulled back - you're like my own personal masseuse. I just hate when some people get special treatment. And you and Pablito haven't exactly been subtle."

"There's nothing going on between-"

"Bullshit. What kind of employee is willing to come in early and work unpaid hours for just another member of the squad? He's the only one with your personal number. You drive him home after practice. Everyone knows that those hours he spends locked away after national team training, he's talking to you. For fuck's sake, you hadn't even been broken up with Martin for a day before you spent the night at his place!"

Eyes locked with the floor, your breathing quickened as Ferran's words too root in you. Did everyone think this way? Was it a common assumption that you harbored "special feelings" for Gavi? He continued without allowing you to recover.

"So you can get on your high horse and spew your woes about how your boyfriend slept with someone else. But you let little Pablito get access to the deepest, most intimate parts of your soul, and despite having a boyfriend, you let yourself love him. You let yourself love Gavi the night you watched him throw up outside the club, young and stupid and delirious, and yet you let Martin think he had a chance to be your man, your one, your soulmate. That's what most people would call emotional cheating. And it still makes you a shit person."

Your temples pounded, headache coming on from the lack of air in your system. You couldn't do anything, couldn't move, couldn't process the information being thrown at your brain. Had Ferran been present that first night at the club half a year ago? Had someone else remembered you, recounting the details to everyone involved? Did Gavi know that you were there, and had seen him in that state? Antonio's question from earlier flashed in your mind, and though you had assumed Gavi's lips had gotten loose, the real culprit was sitting in front of you buttered like a turkey. Everything else would have to wait - because you might lose your job if you didn't get this question answered.

"Have you been telling people I slept with Gavi?" You asked, the pain in your voice clinging to every word.

"I haven't been telling people anything that isn't true. I may have mentioned to a couple of the second-team players that you and Martin had broken up. I may have also mentioned that when I went to console my physically and emotionally battered friend, I watched you and Gavi leave his house, together, and you were in his clothes. Well, I didn't really need to provide that one, did I? The pictures are everywhere. And maybe there was a thing or two about how Martin has always been wary of Pablito, who seemed to always go out of his way to be at your beck and call. People connected their own dots."

"What the fuck is your problem with me?" You asked, voice desperate as you ripped of your gloves, coming around the table to face the slippery eel that was Ferran Torres directly.

"Why can you not stand the sight of me so much that you need me to lose everything I've worked for my whole life?"

The smirk was glued to his face, and the mal intent in his eyes burned brighter than ever.

"Just because I like watching you squirm. And if they fire you, it's no worry to me at all. The team managers are already embracing this 'diversity' thing, so another bubbly, bouncy little thing in scrubs will be in swiftly to take your place."

Ferran got up, readjusting his training uniform and making his way to the door. You couldn't speak. All you wanted to do was curl into a ball behind your desk. The entire staff thought you were sleeping with Gavi, and the thoughts spiraled onward. Did they think that's why you hadn't gotten fired after Ferran's complaint? Did anyone think you were qualified beyond just a toy for one of the players?

"I would steer clear of Gavi, hermosa. No more late drives, no more sleepovers. Rumor has it, word's gotten all the way up to Xavi. Would hate to have to give him confirmation that you two are more than friends. Because then you'd be looking for physio jobs in the village football teams."

"But we're not." You replied, voice strained and broken.

"Then keep it that way."

Since Pedri's nonexistent project with Adidas had ended, he was back to giving Gavi rides. It's not that he minded - the younger boy was always talkative and good company. But It was the waiting around that made Pedri want to scream. For the entire time they had been on international leave, you were the only thing Pablo thought about and spoke of, filling any silent moments sending messages to as a precursor for your nightly calls. Pedri was mistaken in thinking this teenage lovesick behavior would cease once they returned to Cam Nou.

Every day after practice, Gavi would move at the most glacial, snail-like pace just to time his exit with yours, accompanying you on the walk to your car. Today was no different. As Gavi took his time in the locker room doing Lord knows what, Pedri caught a glimpse of you speeding down the corridor. He wanted to greet you, to ask if you were okay, but he couldn't get the words out before you rushed past him. He turned into the locker room and yelled at his passanger.

"Hurry up hermano! She already left!"

[6 Missed Calls]: Gavi

You ignored the buzz of your phone on your table as you curled into yourself, tears streaming down your face. It was beyond what you could bear. You had sacrificed so much throughout your life to get the "dream" you were supposed to be living now: perfect life in a perfect city, with your perfect job and perfect friends. But all of it had been set ablaze. Your apartment had never felt lonelier or colder, as you looked at the chairs that had never been used, the floor that only you walked on. Since leaving America you found yourself with few to no friends. You never went out or saw anyone, dedicating yourself to excelling in your program. The only friend you ever had over was Angelika, and even she had not graced your home for weeks upon weeks. You had isolated yourself from everyone to make sure you were perfect at work - never tired or hungover, never a thread or hair out of place. Now you were friendless and single, curled up on your couch, cursing every decision you had ever made.

The last person you wanted to see or speak to was Pablo. Pablo, who had entered your life so suddenly, and taken up residence in your brain and heart, was the sole common thread between everything crumbling around you. You willed yourself to be angry with him. You tried your hardest to blame him for every misfortune that had come your way. Your lack of friends, many of whom distanced themselves when you started working for Barca under a perception that you were "too good for them". Your waning relationship with Angelika, which began when Pablo started to tunnel his way into your life, consuming more and more of your time. Your failed relationship with Martin, which was perfectly stale and stable before Gavi showed you what it was really like to be made a priority. The current precarious state of your job, it was his fault, because of his consistent fighting with Ferran, which provoked him to file his empty complaint.

You wanted to curse Gavi and the day you had met him, but you couldn't do it. You couldn't bring yourself to even have an ill thought about Pablo. All you could do was curse yourself. You had known deep down for so long how you really felt. From that night you spoke to him in the club, identity yet unknown, but all his vulnerability on display, you had known that there was something pulling you into his orbit. You had known that the hoops you jumped through for him were special, and not inconveniences you would shoulder for anyone else. You had known when you searched for him on the field, in your contacts, in your subconscious that no one would ever bring you this much peace. His eyes, his words, the energy that radiated from him were rarities, seen once in a lifetime, and often squandered by those to late to grab them. And so you sat on your couch, tears pouring down your face as the realization enveloped you, too great to hide any longer: Pablo Paez Gavira was your best friend, and you were heart-achingly, soul-crushingly in love with him, but you would never be able to do anything about it.

Gavi had given up after 6 missed calls and 18 unanswered text messages. He knew that you would call him when you were ready to do so, but the anxiety gnawed at him nonetheless. He couldn't stand the thought of you upset, and would move heaven and earth just to make sure you were doing fine. He was currently checking his phone for notifications ever 30-45 seconds, leg once again bouncing - much to Pedri's dismay. The two of them, accompanied by Alejandro and Eric, were at a restaurant catching up with some friends. Gavi paid no mind to anyone. He was too preoccupied to engage in idle conversation. Rather, he just wanted to hear the sound of your voice -no , your breathing even, to calm his worries.

He felt a tap on his shoulder, tearing his gaze away from the screen. A short blond stood before him - one of Eric's friends - and she spoke directly to him, asking questions about his age and if he also played for the club. Unhappy with the interruption, Gavi gave quick and curt responses, trying to avoid a prolonged conversation. This did not deter the girl, who introduced herself as Jacinta, from getting Gavi's undivided attention, as she sat beside him, legs pressed against each other, and rested a hand on his thigh. Before he could react, he heard the gasp of his name, swiveling around to find several teenage girls huddled by the front of the restaurant, phones out and whispering to each other. Gavi had lost his appetite, excusing himself and taking a taxi back to his, checking his phone frequently as he prayed for you to give him any indication that you were alive.

Your phone rang once again, and the tone echoing through your apartment was one you welcomed eagerly: Angelika's. You had not heard from her in the last month, trying to give her enough space to do her work, while still reminding her you were there for support.

"Angelika! It's so good to hear from you."

"I'm moving to Paris."

Your face fell as you turned the words over in your mind.

"You're...what?"

You sat up on the phone, listening to Angelika explain how she had impressed her colleagues, being promoted to their Paris office to work on more couture and avant-garde looks. She gushed about what an amazing opportunity it was as you tried to stop yourself from throwing up. How was it that you were losing everything in your life all at once.

"That's so amazing, Ange."

That was all you could muster, deciding to be a good friend and leave your worries and fears to the side, letting her bask in the triumph of her accomplishment. You responded with how proud you were, how much she deserved this, and how you knew she would do amazing things.

"Does Gavi have a girlfriend?"

The sudden mention of Gavi's name alone was enough to knock the wind out of you, but the context of the question really threatened to have you spill your guts on the rug.

"Not that I know of." You said, the feeling of dread dripping into your gut like tar.

"One of the Barca fan pages just posted a pic of him with some girl at dinner. Look I just sent it. I didn't know he was old enough to be getting girls like that. You two are friends, right?"

Your eyes were instantly drawn to the blonde girl's hand on Gavi's thigh. She wasn't his girlfriend. If anyone were to know that Gavi were in a committed relationship, it would be you. But this knowledge didn't help the wounded feeling that settled into you. You were home, pining after this little footballer, as he effortlessly flirted with other women. You were once again in pieces over a man that did not think of you the way you thought of him.

"Yeah, we're friends, I guess."

You would never be more than Gavi's physiotherapist and someone he occasionally sent Tiktoks to. Gavi was a deity in his field, a name that struck fear and respect in the hearts of the opposition. He was a symbol of the next generation of football royalty, and a man that could have any woman at his feet with a lick of his lips and a wave of his hand. This is what he was destined for: days in the spotlight, photographs with mysterious beauties, and a loyal fanbase that worshipped his every move. None of that involved you: an employee. Why would he want you? There was nothing you could give him that didn't come in a prettier package. He would never look at you as more than a friend, because you walked with the common crowd, and he was among the elite. Gavi could have any girl that he wants, and it was obvious he didn't want you.

You moved from the couch and walked to your table, waking up the computer that sat upon it. You glanced at the envelope Antonio had slid to you earlier, and thought about his offer. What did you have left? You typed a quick email to Xavi requesting a brief meeting the following morning, before heading to bed, trying to sleep away the suffocating feeling that clung to you.

Gavi was at your office door when you walked in the following morning, despite you arriving 20 minutes earlier than usual. His arms were crossed, face scrunched in worry, but his features relaxed when you walked to the door. He tried to help you with your belongings, but you refused. You exchanged a dry good morning before entering your office, avoiding his gaze. He asked how you were feeling, and if anything had happened the previous day. Eyes glued to your computer, you responded shortly, informing him that everything was fine and that you had a meeting with Xavi you needed to prepare for.

"Doctora, did I do something?"

You finally looked at Gavi, taking in his pained expression. It hurt in ways medicine understand for you to be freezing him out like this, and yet, all you could do was think about the image of Gavi coupled with Ferran's words. Was it worth it to risk everything for someone who would never be yours? You shook you head, informing him again that everything was fine. Everything was far from fine: you felt like you had been thrown off a cliff, your sense of purpose and direction and meaning in life shattered. But you didn't want to burden Gavi with this knowledge. So you stood and collected your folders, lips pursed tightly. You would just have to pretend that you weren't desperate to confess to Pablo that he was the reason that you breathed air, and that you were focused on your meeting and nothing else.

He was not satisfied with your answer. Gavi searched for your eyes, trying to understand what he could have possibly done wrong to get you to change on him so quickly - to become so cold. But you refused to meet his gaze, and he was left to his own theories. Had the rumors of you two together repulsed you from him? Were you unable to look him in the eye now that someone had put the thought in your head that you two could be more than friends? Had you finally decided you were too mature and good for him? He had chewed his lips and inner cheek all night pondering these possibilities.

"Please, y/n, if I did something, let me make it right."

"Gavi." Bad sign. You never called him Gavi when you were happy with him. Gavi was his official name in the team, the professional term you addressed him by. His stomach sank, and everything in him screamed to take you into his arms, not letting you go until he once again heard the sweet sound of "Pablo" drip from your lips like honey.

You wanted to grab him and shake him, scream at him, and cry into his shoulder. You wanted to tell him that there was no way for him to make it right, unless he was ready to have you, wholly and completely, never letting you go no matter the consequences. You wanted to tell him the only thing that could fix it was the one thing you could never ask for: his love.

"I need you... to stay away from me for a while."

Gavi could swear e felt his heart crack in two. What could he have possibly done? What heinous crime had he committed that made you need such a high degree of separation. He had been right there: he had you in his arms, laid on his chest, and heartbeat synching with his own. Now, everything was slipping through his fingers like fine sand, and he was watching you disappear before his very eyes.

"Not because I'm angry with you, but I just... need space."

Gavi could do nothing but stare, mouth agape, begging every power that be for this to be a cruel joke. But you continued to shuffle your papers, and the punchline never came. Before he could form a response, a knock resounded from the door, and Xavi walked into the office.

"Gavi, you're here early." He said, eyebrow raised at you in suspicion. The young footballer swallowed this hurt and his pride, clearing his throat to speak.

"Yeah, just came to get some more medical tape. Doctora y/l/n told me we have some in the locker room. I'll be going now."

Gave left your office, shutting the door behind him, but he could not move. He leaned against the wall, trying to fill his lungs with air, but the breaths he took didn't feel like enough. Tears pricked at his eyes, and he was reminded of his childhood, when the other boys would bully him and push him around the field. That was the last time he properly cried of pain. It was happening now, for the first time in 11 years, but this was a different kind of pain. There were needles pricking every inch of his skin, and he could do nothing except let the pain overtake him. What could he have possibly done to push you away?

He was taken out of his thoughts by the sound of Xavi's voice through the door. He knew he shouldn't have been listening, but he needed to hear you. He needed to listen to you speak, hear the normalcy in your voice, if he ever wanted to move from that God forsaken spot in front of your door.

"-a little late notice. You should try and schedule further in advance for coming meetings." Xavi said. It was unusual for Gavi to hear you be scolded. When had you asked to meet him?

"I apologize, mister, but it was all some very late occurrences, and I didn't want to delay."

"Alright then, go ahead."

"As you know, we are about 10 days into the January transfer window, and while players are getting offers from all over, this is also the time when clubs try and change staff."

Pablo put a hand over his mouth to cover any sounds he made and prevent himself from vomiting. He didn't like where this was going.

"Yes, I'm aware." Xavi responded. "Antonio is leaving us during this window."

"Exactly. That's actually what I wanted to speak to you about. Antonio, as we all know, is a very talented physiotherapist and sports medic, meaning he got offers from a number of clubs. He received a position as head of physiotherapy at Chelsea, which he had to reject obviously to join Man City. Yesterday, he graciously got the offer forwarded to me."

"Miss y/n, please clarify your intentions. I am not very good at understanding subtext." Xavi laughed out.

"Yes sir. I'll be direct then: I am considering leaving F.C. Barcelona at the end of the transfer window."

~~~~~~~

A/N: guys pls don't kill me I'm sorry for the end (not rlly lol). I hope you all enjoyed what is officially the longest part of the series to date!! Got close to my 15k goal, but not there yet - maybe in the next part. My hands are actually cramping from all the writing this is borderline self-inflicted torture lol. Did y'all catch the subtle title/ lyric references? As usual, please leave thoughts, feedback, predictions, etc. in the replies - I love reading all of them so much!!! Esp watching the way people think the story is going to progress because sometimes y'all are spot on and sometimes y'all are wayyyy off and I'm like "wait that would actually be a great plot for another series". Anyways love you all and hope you enjoy!! Part 8??? She's gonna be intense y'all.

Also please comment if you want to be added to the taglist ok bye

*~*Taglist*~*

@l0verl4ne @vibinwkay @anastasia-nova @mxgvmiii @mads-grace4 @bubblebeep69 @katluckybear @scuderiabarca @alwaysclassyeagle @simpingmyassoff @grlwithprblms @lqvesoph @pink-manz @graziemille @xxenia14 @nngkay @icedlattewithextracaramel @gyusrose @vip-access @julianalvarez9 @lavie3nrose @ge0rg1ewaa @i8yul @lovefordilfs271 @remuslupinluver @thattaylorswiftobsessedbitch @chaotic-taco-collector-blog @kaismybabe @notanenthucutlet @fullsun9890 @venomwh0re @renaissancewhxre @gaviandgrizisgirl @altgojo @urmomdotcom5678 @eliseline @invidia-of-alhambra @pixwls @stell4rrrs @80sloverry @car1no-xx @mrsgavira @888bear @kylianmbappee @ivyhrry @gaviypedrisbride @grlwithprblms

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a-world-with0ut-dr34ms · 7 months

Text

Kinktober Prompt ~ Outdoor Sex

Ghost x City Girl Reader

During a friendly game of Capture-the-Flag, you and Ghost take things to extreme, after a bet turns into something not so suitable for work...

Future NSFW 18+, Part One, Eventual Smut, Shameless Smut, Porn w/ little Porn, Hatemance, Enemies to Lovers, Mean Girl/Bratty Reader, Sarcastic Ghost, Teasing, Flirting, slight Slow Burn, Outdoor Sex, Banter, Toxic Relationships

Author's Note: This was random. Felt like writing some dirty smut for Ghost and I liked Spice as a character, so here's a spin-off! Split into two parts so I can make the next chapter juicy. Please enjoy the build-up for now ( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ"

Also! If you want to read it in conjecture to the other parts, this is after Part Two but before Part Three :3

NGMLTS Masterlist

Masterlist

It was meant to be a team building exercise; a friendly game of competition between you and your comrades. Capture the flag. Only the rules were a bit altered this time around.

The game went as plainly explained by your captain: one team has to collect the flags and bring them back to their designated checkpoint, while the other team has to stop them. Three rounds will be given, with teams swapping positions each time. Winning team takes all, including the bragging rights.

And as if a competitive sport between the Task Force's deadliest members wasn't already enough, Price figured he'd spice things up by having the games happen at the dead of night as well. Many of your missions as of recent have been late night ops, so he felt that the extra training was needed.

This means night vision goggles, zero comms, stealth utilization, and strategy. When the exercise started and you were left out in the woods to begin, it was up to you and yours to be alert enough to get the job done. And if your team does win, you'll get first pick on the next mission.

You couldn't speak for everyone, though your sure the sentiment is shared; you've always loved a little competitiion. You just hid that side of you well, only letting it show when it was needed. But beating your peers at their own game was a rush like no other, and that feeling never left you even as you grew older. In fact it increased tenfold. It was a rush better than sex half the time.

Competition keeps a goal in mind to focus on, and damn did it feel good to win. And right now, there wasn't anyone you wanted to beat more than the stealth master himself, Simon Riley.

If one thing had been known about the man, it's that his expertise in stealth and sabotage weren't in need of questioning; he's practically a living legend after Roba. Some missions he's even been able to pull off alone, given his size and brutish combat tactics.

He's quite literally a ghost. That's just simple fact. A fact that might intimidate some, but only made you want to call him out on his bullshit. You honestly didn't believe all the hype, even after having gone on a few missions with him already. If anything, from what you've seen, the guy's just got funny luck.

If you want something done quietly, you send Simon Riley. If he needed to enter a room without you knowing, then you wouldn't hear him until you've felt the knife in your back. If he had to stay out of sight, then you won't see him in the shadows until he chooses to make himself known.

You aimed to prove that point tonight, knowing it would make the perfect thing to hold over him any time he wants to give you shit. How you've dethroned him of his ghostly status and made a mortal man out of him, now not only in the bedroom but in the field as well. It made you giddy just thinking about it.

Tonight you'd been given the chance to put your money where your mouth is. By a random luck of the draw, you've been placed on the offensive team with Gaz, making you the hunter, and Ghost your prey. A unique position to be in, and one you hadn't planned on squandering.

"I bet you $20 you won't get a single flag," you taunted.

Your comment had been enough to make the man snort. No doubt he'd been a man up for a bit of competition himself. And what better reward was there than having the privilege to say he humbled you as well? Now that's a rare occasion.

Ghost finished retying the laces to his boots before standing back up into his full length, looming over you like a big, playful shadow.

The hallway grows dark and empty around you, a familiar setting as of late. Since that night at the club, situations like this seemed to spring up more and more often. Ones which involved the man standing just close enough for you to smell the scent of him, and for him to catch that lustful glint you hid so well behind your eyes. Had you not had places to be, he'd fuck you right here and now, you're sure.

"Why don't we sweeten the pot some," he adds. "You still throw in that twenty, but the loser owes the winner a favor they can't say no to."

"Ooo, I like the sound of that!" You smile, already picturing all the most humiliating things you were going to make him do. You could make him fuck you in that one position dangling over your bedpost that you liked (and he kept complaining about "having to do"). Or you could even make him do all your work for the day as well. Oh the possibilities were endless; it had you practically jumping for joy.

Ghost chuckles at your preemptive celebratory dance, letting you go on for an unnecessary amount of time with your gloating and teasing. It'll only make his victory all the more sweeter.

"Figured you might like tha'," he says. You can practically feel the man smirking underneath his balaclava. He extends a hand out to you, giving you a chance to shake it. "Is that a deal then, Spice?"

You take his hand and shake on it.

"You're on, Manchester."

As you shake hands, Ghost keeps his grip over you for a moment, holding you in place a little longer so you could hear him when he taunted you. "We'll see how good you are when we get out there, won't we?"

"I'll try and go easy on you," you purr.

"I wouldn't want that. Too boring," Ghost teases. "It's much better when I have to work for it."

"Spoken like a true dog."

You both would have continued going back and forth, had Price not entered the hall to retrieve you both.

"OK, wrap it up lovebirds," he teases, earning a respective groan from you both. "We're heading out to the course now, so no more dilly-dallying."

"Roger that, sir," Ghost says. He watches for Price, waiting for him to leave before he's left you with a final parting phrase himself.

"May the best soldier win."

(ﾉ･_-)☆ Part Two Coming Soon...

Author's Note: I've included the previous taglist just in case you guys also wanted to read this spin-off (I know it's been over a month (^^'). I can remove you from the second part if you're not interested though!

Part Two will be longer and will involve the actually competition before things get spicy. I haven't decided who's gonna win the game yet either so it'll be a surprise for all of us. But I'm planning on the smut to be worth the two part split. Stay Tuned ~

Taglist: @babygirl-riley, @homicidal-slvt, @deadbranch, @argella1300, @poohkie90 , @glitterypirateduck , @sarraa-26 , @quincessimus , @crazymela, @13thprogenitor , @joce2fine, @sapszilla , @dmitriene, @justherebecauseafarisucks, @zevrajalexxandra, @corvusmorte

#simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #call of duty #modern warfare ii #call of duty modern warfare ii #mwii #mw2022 #simon ghost riley #call of duty modern warfare 2 #ghost simon riley #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #simon riley #Spotify

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imaginaryf1shots · 9 months

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My Girls (||) | Max Verstappen

Words count: 3072

Driver!OC X Max Verstappen

Summery: Cecilia Hansson daughter of a Swedish billionaire, a race car driver, with a dream of making it big in Formula 1. However she has a few secrets that may hurt her as women are disliked in the sport.

Series Warnings: cursing, child abandment, absent father, drinking, car accidents, Jos Verstappen, misogyny, Christian horner (tell me if i missed anything)

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Series Masterlist

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A new beginning

Both Max and Cecilia followed each other’s carriers.

When Cecilia then got pregnant with her ex’s, Mathew’s, daughter she watched as Max made it into F1, she was jealous yes, she wanted to race to reach her dreams, she wanted to be the first F1 female champion.

“What do you want to do?” Her dad asked her as he watched his daughter hold his granddaughter. He never expected to have his little girl as a mother this young, her ex signing all his rights away before they baby was even born, leaving the father's name on the birth certificate empty. A single mother at the age of 18.

“Whatever you decide, we’ll support you.” Her mum told her holding her hand, her girl just gave birth after a long pregnancy, she looked tired but content.

“I want to keep her.” She whispered looking at her girl, she had wisps of blonde hair, the same hair Cecilia and her father shared. Already looking like her, she whipped her tears away and looked up at her parents. “And I want to race.”

“It’s going to be hard.” Her dad warned her, she needed to know the challenges facing her, if she decided to do that then it’s going to be one of the hardest things she ever did.

“I know, but I want to do it for her, I want her to know that she can achieve all her dreams, I want her to proudly say that I’m her mum, to never feel like any less because her dad isn’t in the picture, I want to do it for her.”

“And you will, we’ll work it out and help you as much as you need.” Her mum kissed her forehead and pushed her hair out of her face, her lovely daughter. Her sweet and strong daughter.

Once Cecilia was given the green light by her doctors, she was back on track and in gyms. Her family’s home gym was upgraded, she had everything she needed there. The only time the girl used her uncle’s connections was when he helped her get back into competitions, getting into F2 was easy once she showcased her abilities that improved in her time off. Mclaren’s junior team snatched her up and she drove for them for a year before she was set as the reserve driver for them in 2018, she raced for the team in a free practice in the Germany, a track she hadn’t drove in her carrier, the woman was on the sim everytime she could as she prepared for the race, she wanted to impress not only Mclaren who had her on yearly contracts for now, but also everyone else, women belonged in the motorsport and she’s going to show it. She wants more skilled females racing, she wants her daughter and all the young girls growing up to see girls like them racing and winning.

In 2019 she had her seat, driving for the first time in an F1 car that was made for her. Making it as the first female F1 driver since the 90s. Getting a place is one thing, keeping it is another thing, all the other females before couldn’t keep their seats for long but she planned to stay racing no matter what.

When it was announced you better believe it turned into a media circus. The female had gone through grilling PR and media training, going through every question she could’ve been asked. She’s ready to face the fire.

The season kicked off in Australia, once the media saw the Mclaren making its way to the park at the entrance they crowded the area, wanting to get a glimpse of the female driver or even her teammate. Mclaren is doing a lot of unseen things with two new drivers this year. When Cecilia got out of the car she was given for the week, she smiled at the cameras, she was sporting Mclaren merch with a pair of blue jeans, wanting to be as neutral as she could until the media got used to her, if she wore any of her clothes the team speculated that they’ll focus on that and take away from her abilities.

It’s media day and she had a lot of interviews to go through, making her way to the entrance. One of Mclaren’s press officers walked with her, there weren't that many fans of her around so she only signed a few things before she made it inside. Going to the paddocks where there was a quick meeting with her and Lando before they start their media duties.

Standing a little to the side she waited for the drivers doing the interview to finish before the new batch did theirs, her and Lando were split up for this section, thankfully she saw Charles coming her way, they both grinned when they saw each other, hugging the other tightly when he made it to her.

“Mon Dieu, tu m'as manqué.” She said in French, they pulled back Charles’ dimple evident on his face. (Oh god I missed you)

“Tu m'as manqué aussi, je suis si heureuse que tu sois là.” Charles replied to her they stood talking in French, Checo and Daniel walked in too they heard the pair talking in French they couldn't keep up with them so they left them talking after they greeted each other, the last to join is Max. (I missed you too, I'm so happy you’re here.)

When he saw her standing there he had to take her in, they’re no longer the teenagers they were when they used to Kart, gone the baby faced Cecilia and in her place stood a grown woman, hair longer and light makeup on her face, her hair loose, he only evers saw her in braids growing up.

It’s been years since Max saw Cecilia last, he knew she was the reserve driver for Mclaren, everyone knew, but they never ran into each other, both lived in Monaco but he never ran into her there either. He knew she’d make it into F1, it took her longer than he thought but she made it. His childhood rival made it into F1 to be one of his rivals, he can’t wait to race her on track once again.

There it is again, his heart speeding up, his eyes coming back to her every few seconds. He thought he grew out of his feelings for her, but evidently not. Once again she’s standing with Charles speaking in french his french isn't a match for the Monégasques. When Cecilia took her eyes off her best friend’s they fell onto the dutch driver.

“Max.” She called for him, he looked from Daniel to her, that smile she had when she was younger, he remembers the last time they talked and how rude he was to her, but that was years ago, a lifetime ago it seemed. “I haven’t seen you in years.”

They didn’t hug, like her and Charles, but her smile was enough for him. Cecilia couldn’t help but take him in too, she’s seen him on TV of course but the real thing is always different. She wonders how she hasn’t run into him before.

“Yeah, last time I saw you, you were almost as tall as I was.” Rolling her eyes at his joke, she’s taken her height from her mother, her father’s side of the family were all tall, leaving her the shortest of the bunch, she wasn’t that short but she always looked short next to her family members, she’s 165 not that short but whatever.

“Wow Verstappen, not all of us are born to be giants.” She joked back. “I’m not even that short, I’m average.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“You know Max is right.” Charles said with a teasing smile.

“Come on, not you too.” Cecilia groans and glares at the due.

“It’s the truth, Cece.” Charles said and leaned down a little to be the same height as her mocking her height, she huffed and exaggerated rolling her eyes. The men laughed at her antics, she crossed her arms and walked to the two other drivers.

“I feel bullied, I’ll go talk with the nicer drivers.” She shook her head as she heard them laugh at her, her hair swinging left and right, they knew she was only joking with them. She could always take a joke.

Complaining to Daniel and Checo about the boys, they patted her back in comfort. A minute later they took their places on the sofa in front of the journalists.

Cecilia got nervous once her feet hit the elevated platform, she’s been through all questions that could be asked, she’s trained until she could answer without a moment of hesitation. So why is it that the opposite happened, why is it that no one thought that the male filled room would agree to ignore her. They were all just too happy to take pictures of her walking into the circuit. It showed what they thought of her, she didn’t belong here, they didn't want her here, she’s only good to look at, a replacement for grid girls. The poor press officer tried to get people to ask her anything but they just ignored him. She had long since just leaned back and placed her microphone beside her, she was annoyed but she tried to act as if she wasn’t bothered. Was it working? Not 100%, people would debate whether she was bothered or not. They don’t know her well enough to go back for past experiences.

“Cecilia, what are you looking forward to this year?” Charles asked once he answered the same question, he turned to look at the female next to him, it wasn’t hard to understand what journalists were doing. Picking up her microphone.

“I’m mostly looking forward to showing everyone what I can do.” She looked at Charles before her eyes met the main camera, looking straight on, no jokes. “I’m going to prove to everyone that women belong in F1.” She smiled then and looked at Charles. “But mainly I’m looking forward to beating you and Max like I used to do when we were young.”

This did it, both men started talking at the same time making her smile. She wasn’t asked any more questions but she didn’t mind after that, her and Charles were talking to each other when he wasn’t asked anything. She nodded along with some answers. After what felt like forever they were done. Walking out of the room she pressed the Mclaren hat on her head, an arm wrapped around her shoulders.

“Show them what you’ve got, Cece.” Daniel said to the younger female, he hated how underrated she is and people already looked down on her. People were acting like they’ve never seen her drive, F2 was filmed and aired, she drove in a FP last year, and did well, not to say how good she did in testing.

“Planning on it.” Cecilia said with a grin, how real it is, she couldn't tell you.

Free practice, she didn't give her all, the team planned for her to surprise everyone on qualifying day. She was seen with Sebastian talking, the man was talking with her, giving her advice not about the race but about the media. He told her how the media can go from portraying you as a villain to a hero in a few seconds, telling her that once she gets in the car she should forget all of them and just focus on driving, the german driver had seen her drive before with his own eyes, he knows how good she can be.

When Lewis joined them, Cecilia couldn’t look him in the eye. He’d seen her last year, and they’ve never talked about it, he never asked and no news came out, but she was still scared. Plus, she looked up to him, always admired him.

“You were a badass on Media day.” Lewis said to the female, he knew slightly of what she was going through, F1 isn’t known for its diversity, while she had the money, he had his gender, both came into the sport at a disadvantage and Lewis knew she has big potential, Seb talked to him about her before, making him watch her races before. Hearing his words made Cecilia look at him, his smile made her smile as well, a look of understanding passing them.

Getting P9 in qualifying wasn’t bad for a rookie, on their first drive. Her team is proud of her place, knowing that tomorrow she’ll start at a good position to do even better. Even if she didn’t finish P9 then that’s some points won in her first race.

Cecilia planned to do better, if not for the helmet’s visor then people would see how the look in her eyes change the moment she starts a race. Gone is the smiley girl and in her place a woman on a mission.

At the first corner she went up to P7, her team encouraging her to keep the pace. Drivers know each other’s techniques and how to deal with them, but the new ones are always full of surprises, and Cecilia is indeed a surprise. The female is a skilled driver, no questions asked. Going up another position, she couldn't overtake Charles but she got the fastest lap, finishing at a strong P6 winning 9 points for Mclaren.

She may have not gained a podium but her team were shouting down the radio how happy they were.

Later that day Cecilia got a text from an unknown number, she was in her driver’s room, going over the race analysing every minute. A habit that she got, it’s one of the ways she got better, after a race she’d sit down, watch and analyse and try to learn from it and then never think about it again. She could tell from the number that it’s a Monaco based number.

Unknown number

Hey, I got your number from Charles, hope it;s okay.

Cecilia H.

Who is this?

Unknown number

Its Max

Verstappen

Cecilia H.

It’s okay

What's up?

Max

Lando said you’re still at the circuit?

Cecilia H.

Yeah, are you still here?

Max

Yes, mind if we meet up?

Cecilia H.

Sure give me a minute and i’ll be outside Mclaren

Max

Okay 👍

Closing the laptop she had on, still in her team kit with the cap and all, she walked out holding her packbag deciding to just leave after her talk with Max. Max was already waiting for her. The sun was almost down, only a few stragglers still there, all the media and fans already left.

“Maxy!” Cecilia cheekily called for the man, he turned to look at her, he looked like was about to scold his younger sibling or something, making her smile even more.

“Don’t ever call me that again.”

“Sure whatever you say, Maxy.” Cecilia teased him again, this version of Max is her favourite, the one who could joke and take a teasing. Definitely better than younger Max.

“I take it back, I’m leaving.” He turned to walk away before Cecilia held his bicep to stop him.

“Wait, wait, I’m sorry, what do you want?” She asked him quickly, he gave her a smile showing her that he knows she’d just joking. Thinking about what he wanted to say kind of made him shy, his cheeks were dusted with a pink glow and he rubbed the back of his neck for a moment. “Come on, it can't be that bad.”

“It’s not, I’m just embarrassed.” His voice dropped when he said embarrassed, just admitting that he’s embarrassed made him even more embarrassed. “You know the last time we talked…”

“Yesterday?” She asked him, frowning, trying to recall what happened yesterday, admittingly so much has happened. Maybe she said something rude without noticing or something, but nothing was coming to her mind.

“No, no when we were young, I wanted to apologise.” He said and decided to just get out and get it over with. “When you just wanted to congratulate me and I called you stupid and weird, I'm sorry about that, I didn't honestly mean it, not then and not now.”

“You scared me for a second there Max, I thought I said something.” Cecilia adjusted her hat so it won't cover her eyes as much so she’d be able to look at Max without raising her head that much. “I honestly forgot about it, we were kids, a lot of things happened since then, and you kind of forget about those small instances.”

“Still I felt the need to say I’m sorry.” Max was glad she was taking it lightly, he knew that she most likely would she hadn't held it over his head, or acted coldly towards him when they met again. “So what are you still doing here?”

“We had a post race meeting.”

“Lando left over an hour ago.” Max frowned; they both had their things and were slowly walking to the direction of the parking lot.

“Well, it’s just a little habit I developed. After a race I would watch the race and see where I went wrong, how I can improve and what the others, who did better than me are doing.” Max nodded to her simple explanation, that alone proved to all those haters online and misogynistic journalists who refused to ask her anything. On Mclaren’s promos and any pictures of the girl, it had a copious amount of hate under it, it’s baffling to see.

“You did great today.” Max commented and even though she disagreed she took the complement. Nothing much was said the rest of the way, and they split up going to their cars, and driving to different hotels.

Cecilia could only think about how much Max has changed, no longer the cold boy she met before. Yes on track he is the same, wouldn't want to piss him off on track but the man in a race wasn’t the same as he was talking to her now. And he wasn't bad to look at either.

Her phone rang, her mum’s picture popped up, answering the phone while she had it connected to the car, her daughter’s voice greeted her. Her little three year old voice met her ears, making her smile.

Next ->

#formula one imagine #f1 scenario #f1 x oc #my girls #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen #f1 x driver!reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1dr

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icarustypicalfall · 6 months

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douceur

Alex Keller x fem!reader

MASTERPOST

This is my contribution for the Alex Keller contest. Thank you @glitterypirateduck for making this competition possible, I had so fun writing it.

I am writing the prompts 21 and 27

"This is by far, the dumpest thing I've done"

"You weren't supposed to laugh"

summary: your husband loves you dearly, he'll do anything for you, even if it means..

warnings: None!!

It was serenity that enveloped the Keller household on a tranquil Friday afternoon.

As you rested upon the couch, your husband, Alex, and your daughter, Lilly, messed around the house. Her laughs and giggles could be heard from downstairs. Due to your recent ankle twist, rendering you unable to carry out most household tasks, Alex gallantly assumed the responsibilities, insisting you rest while he prepared basic but tasty meals and did some simple shores.

Grateful for his kindness, you rested on the couch for the evening, working diligently on your laptop, keeping a watchful eye on your seven-year-old daughter.

Lilly, who had recently celebrated her birthday, found immense joy in dancing. More than once, she spent moments past her bedtime swaying in ballet dresses, making you and your husband smile at her swift movements and pretty grin.

Although, Lilly seemed upset today.

With a pout on her face, she turned to you and uttered, "Mommy?"

Ah, you remembered now..

Previously, you had promised to dance with her during the Ball, a grand event where little girls and their mothers swept themselves into princesses and waltzed together.

Alas, your injury had rendered dancing an impossibility. Lilly, disheartened, longed to dance with you. She crawled beside you and gently poked your arm, a pout still adorning her face. Alex, taking notice, settled beside you with a questioning expression. You briefly explained the situation, and with a sigh and nod of understanding, he empathised.

Alex urged Lily to follow him to the kitchen, excusing themselves as they "prepare us a nice dinner!"

You smiled, feeling slightly guilty for not being able to dance with your daughter, though you knew she'll understand. You carried on with your work before joining your family for dinner.

...

The next day, as you readied yourself to accompany your daughter to the Ball, your husband entered the shared room. You didn't notice him at first, too busy putting on your shoes carefully.

Alex's cough brought your attention to him. He grinned, assuming a somewhat awkward stance, his hands resting by his sides. The man now sported one of your pink silk shirts, barely fitting his huge abs and muscles. It did though compliment the smudged make-up upon his face, Lilly's work for sure, you had questioned the dissaperance of your make up bag. His fair locks were styled into small ponytails atop his head.

With a sigh, he rubbed his temple, a faint smile gracing his lips.

"This is by far, the dumpest thing I've done."

You stifled a laugh, surveying your husband, who appeared to have stepped out of the early 2000s. He shrugged nonchalantly. "She stopped crying once I promised to dress up and dance with her... I suppose it is only fair."

"I guess, don't you think it's a bit too much?"

He laughed, glancing at the ponytails atop his head.

"Anything for my two girls. As long she won't ask for worse. But darling, wip this thing off my face.. no clue how you can stand it.."

You nodded in agreement, planting a gentle kiss upon his cheek so as not to mess the already dishevelled make-up adorning his face. He smiled as you gently wipped the products off his face.

The gymnasium of the elementary school was now abuzz with children and their parents, dancing joyously. Positioned at the front, you readied your pocket camera, eager to capture this enchanting spectacle, you lnew you'll replay it every now and then.

Lilly beamed at you with excitement, clutching her father's hand and twirling around with him. Alex, valiantly attempting to follow the simple steps, contorted his body and exerted his best efforts to avoid colliding with others or tripping over children. Amused, you filmed their lighthearted dance whilst admiring your husband's spirit.

Many mothers cooed at his sweet gesture, he for sure had the spotlight, a natural charm along the kindness he had.

The song finally stopped, Alex joined you on the small chairs, his cheeks flushed and slightly panting. He sighed and playfully glared at your mischievous grin, muttering, "You weren't supposed to laugh..."

Unable to contain yourself any longer, you snorted with laughter.

Witnessing your husband and daughter exuding such happiness and sharing a laughter amidst the surrounding chaos was truly a magical experience.

#call of duty #alexkellerchallenge #alex keller #alex keller x reader #alex keller x you #alex keller x y/n #alex keller x f!reader #writblr #𓆩♡𓆪 faith writes

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agaypanic · 8 months

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imagine hockey player benny having a crush on reader who figure skates at the same stadium he practices at but being too nervous to ask her out, little does he know reader feels the same way about him (this can be about Ethan or Benny btw since they were both on the hockey team and you might want a break from all the benny requests) love your work hope you enjoy your vacation!! 🩷

Skating Around (Hockey Player!Benny Weir X Figure Skater!Reader)

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Summary: Being a small town, the Whitechapel high school hockey team and competitive figure skaters often run into each other at the local stadium. Benny has been admiring you from afar, unaware that you’ve been doing the same.

A/N: HOCKEY BENNY HOCKEY BENNY HOCKEY BENNY RAHHHHHHH i know nothing about anything ice skating related but ive read icebreaker so that’s gotta count for something lmao

***

Joining his school’s hockey team was probably the best thing Benny had ever done. He didn’t care much for the sport itself, but he looked forward to every practice. Not to get better at hockey or because he liked being in a freezing skating rink for two hours three times a week.

It was because he got to see you practice your routine.

The Whitechapel hockey team and figure skaters had to share a rink, and for some reason, their practices were on the same days. The figure skating team was always first, and then the hockey team would practice right after. When he and Ethan first made the hockey team, they decided to get to practice early to have a good layout of what would be happening.

That’s when he saw you. Lacing your skates while your partner yelled for you, the impatient beckoning voice echoing through the stadium. You rolled your eyes and went onto the ice, making a comment to your partner that only he could hear before music started playing from the speakers.

Benny was immediately entranced by everything about you. It wasn’t just your beauty, but the fluidity of your movements and radiating confidence as you and your partner went through your routine. He fixated on every turn, every jump. It was all just so fascinating.

“You know, you can talk to her when she’s done.” Ethan sighed as he sat beside Benny, who focused on your movements. “She won’t bite, I think.”

“Are you kidding me?” Benny almost laughed, tearing his eyes away from you on the rink to look at his best friend. “She’s so out of my league, E. She wouldn’t give me the time of day.” It was probably untrue; you seemed really nice. Benny just said that because he didn’t want to face rejection from you. Which is why he decided very early on that it was better to admire from afar.

“Sarah has a class with Y/n, says she’s really nice.” Ethan shrugged before bending over to tug on his skates. “Just saying.”

Benny ignored Ethan, opting to see the end of your routine, which finished off with a lift. As the music cut off, he clapped quietly to not draw attention to himself but still show support.

“Isn’t she amazing?” He asked while you skated off the rink.

“Yeah, she’s great. Now, come on, let’s get on the ice.” Ethan left without an answer, leaving Benny to scramble to get his equipment on and ready while the rest of the hockey team came into the stadium.

On the other side of the ice, you were unlacing your skates, glancing up every few seconds to see Benny warm up and talk to Ethan. You smiled softly when Ethan said something that made him laugh, the sound echoing through the giant room.

“All that staring isn’t gonna do anything. You know that, right?” James, your skating partner, said, smirking down at you with his gym bag tossed over his shoulder.

“I’m not staring.” You muttered, looking down to pull off your skates.

“Just talk to him! I heard he’s nice.”

“I can’t talk to Benny, and you know it.” You huff, looking up at James. “I have too much on my mind. Our competition is in a month, and we need our routine nailed down.”

“You need our routine nailed down.”

“Besides, I don’t even know what I would say to him. ‘Hi, Benny. We’ve never talked before, but I always see you during our practices, and I think you’re really cute. By the way, my name’s Y/n. Wanna go out sometime?’”

“Dude, that’s great, just say that.” You groaned, tired of this conversation that the two of you have had probably a million times. Gathering your things, you took one last look at Benny before getting up to leave. “Y/n, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think you can spare one day to talk to Benny and ignore everything else.”

You brushed past James, choosing to ignore his words. You were fine with looking at Benny rather than talking to him. James watched you leave the stadium before trying to find Benny on the ice. The boy had done the same, watching your movements until you went through the door and out of sight.

***

“What do you mean our practices are overlapped?” You asked your coach, trying to contain your anger.

“It means exactly what it means, Y/n.” Your coach sighed, clearly just as frustrated with the situation as you were. “The stadium is doing some kind of skating program, so a lot of the time is being taken up by lessons and group skating. Our options were either doing practice with the hockey team simultaneously or alternating days. And the boys’ coach was very vocal about his opinion.”

“You should see this as a blessing in disguise, N/n,” James said, pulling you into the stadium and to your usual bench to get ready.

“How exactly is this a blessing, James? We have half an ice rink.”

“Guess who’ll be on the other half, smarty.” He pointed to the other side of the ice, and you followed his finger to see Benny laughing and smiling with his friend. You slapped his hand down immediately, looking away before either of the boys could notice.

“Don’t point at him!” You hissed.

“I’ll stop pointing when you start talking to him.”

“Oh my god, just get your skates on.”

Practicing a competitive skating routine in the same space as armored jocks that liked to bodyslam and wave their hockey sticks around was a lot harder than you realized. Every few seconds, you had to stop your run-through to speed out of the way of a runaway puck or some guy that was chasing after it. And this was in no way a blessing in disguise like James had suggested because although you knew Benny’s jersey number, you could never catch him with all the fast movements. And on the rare occasion you did, he was as far away from you as possible.

“I’m getting sick of this.” You muttered, getting back to your starting position. “One more time, and then I’m out of here.”

“Agreed.” James groaned, rubbing his shoulder from where a hockey player had just checked him. You knew it was an accident, but the lack of a proper apology made you decide differently. He settled into his position next to you, looking at your coach, who was waiting to start your music.

You tried to ignore all the grunting and shoving to the best of your ability, letting muscle memory guide you through the music. So far, it was going smoothly. The part you were worried most about because of your spatial situation was a lift halfway through your song.

Taking a deep breath, you grabbed James’ hand and tried to stand as lightly on his thigh as possible while he stayed kneeling on one knee on the ice. Quickly, James placed his free hand on your stomach and stood, twirling you around as you tried staying horizontal. After a few spins, James set you down, and your intertwined hands separated and pushed you away from each other. Trying to keep an equal distance, you both skated backward around your half of the rink, maintaining eye contact.

“Y/n, look out!” James suddenly shouted, pointing to something behind you. Before you could look to what you should look out for, you were grabbed and whisked away to the side, face smooshed into a chest of hockey armor. You heard the music shut off, and everything seemed to calm down. But you didn’t want to pull away from whoever you were pressed up against.

“You okay?” The voice was a bit familiar, but you know you’ve never heard it from talking to this person directly. Lifting your head away from the safety of his chest, you saw Benny looking down at you. His eyes skated over your face, probably trying to ensure there wasn’t any injury. But he had also never seen you this up close before, and wanted to save the moment.

“Yeah.” You answered, albeit a bit softly. You hoped that your reddening cheeks could be written off as being in a cold environment and not trying to contain the excitement of being so close to someone you’ve secretly had your eyes on for a while. “What happened?”

“Hockey puck went rogue.” Benny gave you a cute, lopsided smile. “Figured that based on my playing ability, it was better to get you out of the way instead of going after the puck.”

“I’ve seen you at your practices. I bet you play just fine.” You responded with a sheepish shrug before slapping a hand over your mouth. “I mean, not that I watch you all the time. I just see you every now and then, you know? It’s not like I spend all my time-”

“I watch you at your practices, too.” Benny cut you off, smile becoming more shy at your confessions. “You’re really good, by the way. Like, really awesome.”

“Weir!” One of his teammates yelled to him from the hockey team’s side of the rink. He looked over his shoulder to see the kid beckoning him over. “Get over here!”

Benny groaned, turning back to you.

“I gotta go, but do you maybe wanna get some food sometime? I know a really good spot that I go to after practices sometimes.”

“I’d love that.” You didn’t bother to try to tone down your growing grin. You caught Benny’s teammates looking at the two of you, probably grumbling about him not practicing. “You should probably go. Don’t want the team getting mad at you.”

Benny let you go, although you could sense he didn’t want to. With a small wave and a big smile, he skated back to his team.

“Told you it was a blessing in disguise.” James startled you with his sudden presence, voice practically in your ear. You smacked his chest and laughed, going to make your way off the rink to let one of the other figure skating partners practice.

#agaypanic #benny weir x reader #benny weir #my babysitter's a vampire x reader #my babysitter's a vampire #hockey player!benny weir #hockey!benny weir

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charlywrites · 2 years

Text

Requested by anon

Request; reader who is max’s half sister and he found out in 2021. After meeting he invited her to a Grand Prix and this is where she meets Carlos. Now I’m thinking like an enemies to lovers where he makes a rude comment when meeting her calling her a gold digger because he thinks max is cheating with her (not knowing that’s his sister). But as enemies to lovers go they eventually end up together

Warnings; mention of j*s at the beginning, swearing, mention of Carlos’ crash. Also Max is really present in this fic.

Note; I put my whole pussy in that fic, enemies to lovers trope? check, idiots in love? check.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Growing up, you didn’t know who your father truly was up until your teenage years, only then you learned about the life he had and the reason you would only see him once or twice a year- he was known to be a formula one driver.

It wasn’t something you really cared about if you had to be honest, sure they sport itself seemed to be interesting but you weren’t familiar with it- and you weren’t too interest by sharing a passion with your father.

You had never been close or even truly got along with him, it was clear that he did not care about you, which fueled a hatred for him from a young age. You never understood why he didn’t want you to be a part of his life, especially once you got old enough to understand more serious topics.

It’s only when you recently learnt that your father did not only have a life you weren’t part of, he also had a whole family you never knew about. Actually, you might have never know about them if your stepbrother hadn’t reached out to you first.

At first, when you received a call from an unknown number, you thought it was a weird and messed up prank, but after making a quick research on internet, you learnt that the caller was quite literally your stepbrother who also happened to be the current drivers’ champion.

It was a lot to take in and digest, hence why it took you over a week to answer Max’s text asking if you’d eventually like to meet up- you weren’t sure if it was a good idea to already meet up but in the end, you could let the opportunity to meet your stepbrother.

And just like that, only a bit over two weeks after Max first called you, you were meeting and going on a hike together- it was his idea, saying that it could be fun and would make it less awkward than meeting in a coffee shop.

“Are you ready?”

“ I’d say yes but I have a feeling I might regret saying that later.”

Max chucked, something was telling him you two were going to go along just well, “ don’t worry, we’ll go at your own pace, I don’t want to lose you behind.”

“ Hey! Don’t underestimate me. I might not be a champion or even into sport that much but that doesn’t mean I can’t keep up.”

“ Alright, alright, it’s not a competition anyways, we’re here to learn about each other and have fun, right?”

And you did have fun, Max turned out to be really funny and nice, you didn’t regret accepting to meet and getting to know him, in fact, you wanted him to be part of your life now, after all, you had a lot to catch up- you would never be able to catch up on all the years you had missed but you still could try.

Hence why, after the hike, Max invited you to his next Grand Prix, you told him early on that you didn’t know a single thing about his sport but he still wanted to show you his world. You couldn’t say know, you could tell how much it meant to him and you were curious to know what it was like in real life.

Here you were two weeks later, completely lost and confused in a world you didn’t know a thing about. You asked Max if you could come the whole weekend as you were willing to try to understand his sport, and he was more than happy to invite you for the three whole days.

Max was busy for a last minute meeting with his engineering team, so with Max’s encouragements, you went wandering through the paddock and a bit everywhere you were allowed to go to- all you knew was that you couldn’t lose your pass where it was written that you were Max’s guest.

You couldn’t tell how far you had went, and it seemed impossible to find your way back to the Red Bull’s garage without asking someone for directions. It wasn’t an easy task as everyone looked so busy, you didn’t want to bother.

That was until you saw a man, that you guessed worked for Ferrari due to his red shirt, he didn’t look too busy as he was looking at his phone. Taking your chance, you approached the man and excuse yourself, “ hi, i- uhm, I’m sorry to bother you, I’m lost and I’d like to go back to the Red Bull’s garage, do you know where I have to go?”

“ Hi,” before continuing he quickly looked at your pass to make sure you weren’t lying, “ Max’s guest, uh? The garages are at the other side, it’d be easier for you to ask Max to come get you.”

“ What’s wrong with me being Max’s guest?”

“ He always has the same guests, but I never saw you around.”

You frowned, not understanding what the problem was or what he was trying to insinuate- it wasn’t your fault you didn’t get to know him sooner, “ I met Max recently, so it’s my first time around here.”

“ You just met and he already invites you? Damn, I didn’t know Max liked gold diggers!”

“ What the fuck?” being offended wasn’t a strong enough word to describe how you felt hearing this man’s comment, “ I don’t know who you think you are but fuck you!”

You left right away, fuming at the man’s comments on you and your brother- which you ended up calling once you cooled down to ask him how to get back to the garage.

To say the least, you felt like a complete fool for getting lost, and the fact that Max told you to stay where you were because he was coming to get you didn’t help neither. It was your first time in this environment but you felt like you were just taking Max’s precious time during those weekends.

That wasn’t how your brother felt though, he was delighted to have you around and was already hoping you’d come to more races in the future, “ so, how was your little adventure?”

“ Cool until I met an asshole who ruined the experience a bit.”

Your brother frowned, unhappy to hear someone had already bothered you, “ do you know who it was?”

“ I don’t know anyone or any name besides you, Lewis Hamilton, Vettel, and since today Checo too.”

“ You can’t tell which team neither?”

“ Oh, it was one of the Ferrari drivers- but why does it matter?”

“ I’ll make sure they don’t bother you again.”

You shrugged it off, you didn’t really care anymore already, you were still bothered by those comments but it wasn’t going to keep you awake at night, “ i can take care of myself don’t worry, i told them to fuck off.”

Max seemed to be amused by what you told him but also felt proud to know how you stood up for yourself, “ well, that was deserved.”

“ Yeah.”

———

It had now been a month since you saw Max races for the first time- and also win. You were starting to understand your brother’s love for this sport even if it would never reach his level, you liked it more every time you’d watch a race, wether it was in person or behind a screen.

You hadn’t gotten the chance to attend the race after your first Grand-Prix due to work but after that, you had changed your schedule to be able to go support your brother on every upcoming races.

The only real downside of attending the those weekends were that you kept crossing paths with Carlos who, for some unknown reasons, disliked you since your first time attending a Grand-Prix.

Naturally, you would always return his shady comments or glares every single time- you didn’t really hate him but did hold a grudge against him for the names he had called you. Other than that, you believed he was a great guy since him and Max seemed to go along so well.

You had just left the Red Bull’s facility, siping some fresh drink when your shoulder collided with someone, who just like you, wasn’t paying attention to where they were going, “ ah, come on! You again?”

“ You don’t own the place as far as I’m concerned?”

“ You neither, yet you seem to always be on my way.”

You scoffed, this was getting ridiculous, you were literally next to the Red Bull’s zone, where else were you supposed to be, “ oh my god, stop being so childish and petty, what the fuck did I even do to you?”

“ Well, clearly you like being on my path and I hate that.”

“ You’re acting as if I killed your puppy or something, grow up!”

Carlos dramatically rolled his eyes, sighing loudly to show his annoyance he snapped back, “ you’re stupid, aren’t you?”

“ That’s rich coming from you. You’re such a fake bitch for hating me but being good friend with Max.”

“ I’m not going to stop being friend with him because he started bringing you around, even if we’d do better without you there.”

You had heard enough and now, you couldn’t hold back all the frustration you kept for yourself anymore, “ first of all, fuck you and second of all, I hope you don’t get to finish sunday’s race!”

And with that, you stormed off, not without shoving Carlos on the side- he was truly an asshole yet you couldn’t bring yourself to hate him as much as he hated you and that even with all the awful names he had been called you.

You wondered for a while, as you headed to the Red Bull’s garage what you had done or said to be so hated by him. You had seen once or twice how he acted with everyone else- he seemed to be nice and even funny. You couldn’t get along with everyone no matter how hard you tried, so maybe ignoring him would be for the best.

And with what you had just said to him, you most likely would never get along with the driver. Of course, you didn’t wish any real harm to Carlos, you didn’t want him to have an accident where he would get injured, you just wanted his car to give up mid race, imagining how upset that would make him.

However, you didn’t actually think it would happen two days later, when you saw on the screens in the garage that one of the ferrari had stopped on the side of the track, while catching fire and the driver was still in the car, you felt incredibly guilty- you shouldn’t have wished that to him.

At that point, you weren’t even sure if it Carlos and not his teammate since you were still struggling with the numbers of each drivers but you quickly understood it was indeed Carlos, you honestly felt like it was maybe your fault for jinxing him on Friday.

The end of the race was a tie between Charles and your brother, during the last lap, you were sitting at the edge of your seat, hoping for a miracle as you heard Charles had a problem with his car. Once the checkered flag was out, you were disappointed to see Max get the second place even if it was still a good result.

As you were told to follow the team, you greeted Max and congratulated him for his second place. No matter how hectic the moment was, Max took a minute to hug you, “ I’ll see you after the podium? ”

“ Yeah of course, go enjoy your moment, I’m proud of you!”

Even if it was a happy moment, you couldn’t help but think about Carlos’ car catching fire, you wished you could tell him how sorry you were and that you regretted your words. But for now, you had to push those thoughts aside and follow the team to get closer to the podium.

As soon as Max was handed his trophy for his second place, you proudly clapped, smiling ear to ear at yet another accomplishment- maybe you were starting to enjoy this sport more than you’d like to admit.

While music was blasting, champagne bottles were opened and soon enough, the three men sharing the podium today were soaked in champagne. As you watched this happen, something, or rather someone, caught your attention from the corner of your eyes.

You noticed Carlos assisting at the podium from afar, while you knew he was solely there for his teammate and was most likely still upset for how the race ended for him, you felt brave enough to take this opportunity to apologize.

Squeezing yourself through everyone gathered at the podium, you made your way to the ferrari driver and quickly apologized before he would send you away, “ I’m sorry for what happened during the race, I didn’t actually want this to happen.”

“ Are you sure about that? I wouldn’t be surprised to hear you actually enjoyed the scene. ”

“ I didn’t enjoy one bit- that was scary, I can’t even begin to imagine how you felt in that car burning.”

“ Yeah, that wasn’t the most pleasant moment of my career.”

You sighed, closing your eyes for a second, trying to find the right words so this wouldn’t end up in yet another argument, “ look, I was angry because you called me a bitch and I don’t understand why you hate me so much without even knowing me. I didn’t think and said the first thing that came to my mind. I’m truly sorry.”

“ It wasn’t your fault, it’s just the engine who failed. Stuff like that happen sometimes.”

“ Okay,” the conversation fell flat right after, as you were unsure of what else could you say, he didn’t seem to be too upset against you which was good, you didn’t want to have this on your conscience, “ I know it’s not the right moment to ask this, but what did I do to you?”

“ You didn’t do anything to me, it’s not the problem- it’s the fact that Max never talked about you before and one day you show up and now you’re basically glued to him.”

“ What’s wrong with that? Wait,” you had just realized that he was thinking Max and you were together, “ you think I’m dating Max?”

“ Isn’t it the case?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at how uncalled for this assumption was, “ not at all, I’m his sister- well, step-sister but that’s the same to me.”

“ Oh,” you could tell how embarrassed Carlos was at that exact moment and it was quite funny, you couldn’t lie, “ I didn’t know Max had another sister, I’m sorry for assuming things.”

“ It’s pretty new for us too, we met a bit over two months ago and he invited me for the first time the friday we met to show me what was his life like.”

“ I hope my stupid comments didn’t ruin the experience too much for you.”

This time, you smiled at the driver, maybe he wasn’t as much of an asshole as you first thought. Shrugging, you replied, “ it’s fine, that didn’t ruin my weekends.”

“ That’s good to hear. Will you be there next time too?”

“ Unless Max suddenly doesn’t want me around anymore, I’ll be there- why?”

“ Well, I have a lot to make up for. I don’t want you to think I’m an asshole.”

You cocked your head on the side, clearly amused by Carlos’ words, “ I’m impatient to see how you’re planning on making up for it.”

“ You won’t be disappointed.”

“ We’ll see about that.”

———

Usually, you never joined Max on Thursday as it was only for press conferences and interviews- he didn’t want you to have to stay behind, waiting for him and get over-bored. Now that you were getting familiar with the Red Bull’s team and befriended some other people working for different teams, you didn’t mind having to stay behind and wait.

And that’s what you did today, you accompanied your brother and when it was his group’s turn at the press conference, you stayed behind, talking to a few people you knew and eventually found a nice and rather calm spot to wait.

As you were listening to your playlist while scrolling down on your social media feeds, you didn’t notice that Carlos was walking to you until he sat next to you, removing one of your earphone to get your attention, “ i didn’t know you’d be here today?”

Startled by the sudden apparition of the driver, you put your hand over your chest, “ oh my god, don’t ever scare me like that again!”

“ Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“ That’s okay but don’t do it again and yeah, I don’t usually come with Max on Thursday but I was in the mood to be the annoying sister today.”

Carlos laughed, handing you back your earphone, “ how long have you been sitting there?”

“ I don’t know, maybe half an hour- why?”

“ With this heat? Why don’t we go inside and grab a cold drink, you got to stay hydrated!”

Arching a brow quite amused at Carlos’ suggestion you replied, “ you know I can get a drink from the Red Bull’s facility, right?”

“ Yeah but ours, at Ferrari, are better!”

“ I’m pretty sure the drinks are the same, but I guess I have to check it out by myself now, uh?”

Carlos grinned from ear to ear at your answer, getting up, he offered his hand to help you, which you gladly took. You kept a pretty light conversation as you two headed to the Ferrari’s facility as you mostly talked about how he hoped the weekend would go for him and Charles.

You kept going until Carlos stopped you right before entering the building, confused you gave him a questioning glare, “ you can’t enter wearing a Red Bull cap!”

It was childish but you were nonetheless amused by Carlos’ words, you knew no one would say a word about you wearing the Red Bull cap Max offered you during the first racing weekend you attended, “ better? ”

Your friend remained silent for a couple of seconds until his eyes lit up as if he had gotten the brightest idea of the year. Before you could say or even realize anything, Carlos took his own cap and put it on your head, “ even better now!”

“ Are you trying to turn me into a Ferrari supporter?”

“ I wouldn’t dare!”

“ Yeah, because I’m not betraying my brother.”

“ Too bad, red suits you very well.”

You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed- you liked the color red and wearing it but you were too proud to say it to him. Instead, you cleared your throat, reminding Carlos why you were there, “ so, are we getting those drinks or not?”

“ Yeah, vamos.”

Following your friend inside the building belonging to his team, once you had acquired a drink you liked, you didn’t stay too long inside, only enough to cool down from the outside burning heat of the summer.

It was only mere seconds after you left Ferrari’s facility, still accompanied by Carlos, that your brother found you. The first thing he noticed was the unusual hat you were wearing, he feigned being hurt at the sigh, a hand clutching at his heart, “ i can’t believe I turn my back for an hour and you betray me like that.”

“ It’s not what it looks like Max, I swear.”

“ It’s okay, it’s okay- I knew it would eventually happen.”

You weren’t sure what your brother exactly meant by this, exchanging a look with Carlos, he simply shrugged, he was just as confused as you were, “ what?”

“ I meant you and Carlos? I mean come on, I knew from the beginning you would end together- enemies falling in love or whatever they call it.”

“ What? We- we’re not dating if that’s what you think!”

“ It’s cool if you guys want to keep it a secret, I won’t tell anybody.”

You rolled your eyes, not understanding how Max convinced himself that Carlos and you had been dating. You were about to tell Max to stop as there was nothing between Carlos and you, but your friend replied before you could, “ thanks bro, i was actually going to ask y/n where she wanted to go for our next date.”

“ Oh,” Max was just as speechless as you were, since when you had already went on a date with Carlos, “ my bad for interrupting then. I’ll let you guys be, i’ll be at the rbr’s garage but when you come back y/n, you’re forbidden from wearing any ferrari’s merch in our garage.”

You laughed a little, it didn’t even cross your mind to keep the cap on for this long and you surely didn’t want to make enemies for wearing a red hat, especially since you were still considered new around here.

By the next minute, Max was gone, leaving Carlos and you alone again. You felt a bit awkward as you asked him, “ why did you say that to Max?”

“ Because I meant it- I was really going to ask you if you wanted to go on a date with me, he seemed so convinced that we were already dating.”

“ Would you like that? For us to be together?”

“ Well yeah, I would. You know, I never hated you- I just hated that you were with Max, at least that what I believed. I thought I had no chance with you and I was a bit jealous.”

“ You should’ve just asked me straight away. Would’ve saved us some times and arguments.”

Carlos chuckled, agreeing with you, he added, “ you have no idea how much I regret being an asshole to you.”

“ It’s okay now that we sorted this out,” you smiled softly, glad that you had gotten to see this side of Carlos that you already liked so much, “ so, about that date?”

“ Yeah?”

“ When and where?”

He smiled ear to ear, realizing that you were in for a date with him, “ what about tonight? I’m pretty sure I spotted a restaurant near the hotel.”

“ Sounds great to me, I can’t wait for tonight.”

#carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #x reader #scuderia ferrari #request

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