hellraiser (2022) enthusiast

summary: now it is time to write the first draft but is it really when two tennis players are dedicated about winning someone over

pairing : jace (wilson bethel) x fem! oc x andrew (shawn hatosy)

warnings : make out session, groping, touching over the clothes, not further than foreplay, mdni

Part 1 / part 2 / part 3

A cold shower after today's training session was exactly what she needed. She was now sitting cross-legged on her hotel bed, laptop balanced on her thighs 

She was now wearing a white tank top and black cycling shorts. Just the memories of Jace and Andrew's hands lingering on her was enough to make her shiver.

Yet, that was a distraction she couldn't afford as she tried to focus on the draft of her article. She just finished typing out the descriptions of the tournament atmosphere and her first interview.

Right now, she was midway through a paragraph about the intensity of the matches when a firm knock at her door took her out of it.

She hesitated for a few seconds but curiosity quickly won over as she placed her laptop on her bed before moving to open the door.

On the other side stood both Jace and Andrew. It made Kaia pause for a moment because she clearly didn't expect them to be so dedicated to winning her over.

They were still in their earlier training gear but she couldn't complain about it. After all, they looked a bit too good in it.

“Hope we’re not interrupting,” Jace said as he entered the room as soon as she stepped aside.

“We figured you'd be writing and we wanted to come check on your progress,” Andrew added as he shamelessly took in her appearance from head to toe.

“Don't you two have better things to do ? I don't know… athletes stuff ?” She asked as she raised an eyebrow at the pair who were already making themselves at home in her bedroom.

Andrew dropped himself onto her bed while Jace sat near her laptop, glancing at it with clear interest.

“Let us see,” the blond athlete said while she moved to sit back on her spot on the bed. 

She sighed as she once again put back the laptop on her thighs and returned to the open draft page.

Jace directly leaned in, his chin resting over her shoulder while she scrolled through the draft. Andrew leaned in too, also reading over her opposite shoulder.

The pair fell quiet while she could only wait for their return. She still hated when someone read her articles right in front of her, too stressful in her opinion.

“You're a good writer,” Andrew murmured in a low voice. “You make some of us sound better than we are.”

Before she could fully enjoy the praise, Jace's hand settled on her thigh, his fingers tracing slow circles over the fabric of her shorts.

“No mentions of your newfound tennis knowledge though?” The latter asked in a teasing tone, a smirk stretching her lips.

The memories of today's training session was enough to make her cheeks warm but she refused to let them have her so easily.

“You just want me to get fired. I am already lucky there are no articles published about last night's party,” she said with a roll of her eyes. 

Truly, she wondered how no gossip magazines got their make out session on the front page today.

Before she could add anything else, Jace turned her face toward him and kissed her. It was a slow and deep kiss, his tongue sliding against hers in an unhurried pace while his hand resting on her thigh started sliding higher.

As soon as he pulled back, Andrew turned her toward him and claimed her mouth in a hungrier kiss, his teeth nipping her lower lip while one of his hands slipped under the hem of her tank top.

Then, before she could realize what was happening, Andrew reached past her with his free hand and grabbed the front of Jace's shirt. He pulled him in and their mouths met over her shoulder in a heated and clearly competitive kiss. It was open mother and messy as they both weren't willing to yield first.

Kaia's breath caught at the sight and when they broke apart, they both turned to look at her with hungry looks.

They then moved to ease her back against the pillows. The laptop carefully moved to the nightstand.

Jace's mouth found the side of her neck, sucking to leave his mark on her skin while his hand on her thigh slid between them to press firmly through the fabric of it. His thumb rubbing circles that made her hips buck towards the friction.

Andrew kissed her again, his hand slipping fully under her tank top, his palm moving up her ribs until his fingers brushed the underside of her breast.

Kaia's hands clutched at their shirts as if to anchor herself through the almost overwhelming sensations.

Andrew's hand continued upwards until he cupped her breast, he then rolled her nipple experimentally through the material of her bra.

Jace's hand was still between her legs, pressing and rubbing constantly. It left her panting and whining against Andrew's mouth.

She could feel their arousal pressing against, yet they both made no move to go further.

They stayed tangled like this for a while. Andrew would pull her into slow and hungry kisses while Jace's mouth marked her neck and his fingers continued stroking her. Then, Jace would capture her lips in a more urgent way while Andrew's hands explored the skin under her top.

Eventually, Kaia managed to sit up. She was breathing hard, her lips were swollen, her hair was messed up and her tank top was rucked up from Andrew's insistent hands.

They both stared at her, ready to dive in again but she clearly needed to take a breath.

Then, an idea sparked in her mind. After all, she had to keep her promise to herself that they needed to earn it if they wanted her fully.

“Your match is tomorrow, right ?” She asked, gaining confused looks from the two men that clearly wondered what the hell was happening in her head right now.

“Yes…” Andrew replied in a confused tone as he tried to understand where she was coming from.

Kaia inhaled before letting out a loud exhale because that was a bold move considering how she was still stuck between the two men on her bed.

“Whoever wins the match tomorrow gets to fuck me first.”

Like expected, the silence that followed was thick as they both processed her words and what it implied.

“You’re serious?” the brunette asked in pure disbelief while Jace could only let out a chuckle at this.

“You're playing hard to get now ?” The latter asked even if he didn't seem bothered at all.

At this, she offered them an innocent look as she shrugged. “Call it motivation.”

“Deal,” Andrew finally accepted with a sigh, he knew there was no way to avoid this idea now that it was up in the air.

“You’re going to regret it.” the other man teased before capturing her lips in an open-mouthed kiss.

She knew what they were trying to do once she felt Andrew's hand returning under her tank top. They were already trying to make her forget her idea but she wasn't going to give up this easily.

She managed to force herself to stand on her unsteady legs under the pretense of needing water.

“I should go… I mean, you both should go,” she said, her brain being a mess at the moment. “You both play tomorrow and I need to send the draft before 5pm so.” 

At this, the two grunted in slight annoyance at it but still moved towards the door.

It was obvious as they walked that Jace was hard, the outline obvious against his shorts. When they stepped into the hallway, Andrew casually swung the back of his hand harshly against the bulge.

“Fuck–” Jace hissed, doubling over in pain while his friend seemed completely unapologetic over what he had just done.

Kaia shook her head at the sight even if she couldn't help herself from laughing as she watched them. 

“You two are ridiculous,” she called out after them before closing the door once they disappeared from the hallways.

summary : it was only an invitation to learn about tennis, wasn't it ?

pairing : jace (wilson bethel) x fem! oc x andrew (shawn hatosy)

warnings : bit of flirting, touching and building that sexual tension

part 1 / part 2

When she woke up the next morning, she could still feel the drinks from last night. A hand raised to try and ease the tension in her head by rubbing her temple but she knew that she would definitely need some aspirin.

Her phone that was constantly buzzing didn’t help much and she cursed it before giving in and reaching for it. Most of the notifications were from Eloise, from what she could read, her friend was going insane after what she witnessed last night and clearly wanted to know more.

Just the thought of how she made out with both of them last night at a party was enough to send heat rushing through her entire body. What was she even supposed to say about that ? Apparently two very hot tennis players want me and I also want both of them ? People would definitely think that she is insane or lying. Which was pretty much understandable.

It was also pretty much a wonder how she didn’t bring them to her hotel room. But a part of her didn’t want to give them everything on a silver platter.

As she scrolled down through her notifications, she noticed that she gained two more followers on her instagram account. It was no surprise to her when she saw the names of those two new followers being Jace and Andrew. But those were definitely their private accounts.

What surprised her was the new group chat that had been created while she was asleep. Only one message was there and clearly destined for her.

Jace : Court 3. 10 AM. We will help you with your article.

One look at the clock made her notice that she was supposed to be on the court in thirty minutes. She never left the bed so quickly to rummage in her small suitcase in search of a fitting outfit.

She guessed that they would teach her a bit more about tennis, so she had to pick something in which she could sweat in. She wasn’t really into sports but she always liked some of the clothes made for it, it was her go-to when she stayed at home but felt guilty about wearing her pajamas for an entire day.

She was glad that she brought those clothes, after all she was supposed to stay-in a day at the hotel to write her first draft but that plan has just been thrown out by two athletes.

She changed into a white tank top and athletic shorts. For the make-up, she only opted for some concealer and powder to look a little less tired and because she frankly didn’t have time. She didn’t bother with the bruise on her temple that slowly started turning purple, it’s not like her make-up was magical.

She only took her phone, a bottle of water and a granola bar to eat on the way before leaving her room to head to the private practice court. After all the competition was held near the hotel her and Eloise were staying in.

She guessed that they would have to thank their manager with some tennis themed souvenirs for finding them such good accommodations for the tournament.

As she left the hotel lobby, she waved quickly at Eloise and Callum that were eating breakfast but didn’t stop. She knew that details would be asked later when she came back and her friend would probably scold her for training when she was still hungover and with no real breakfast to give her some needed energy.

Once there, she noticed that both men were already waiting and her gaze directly drifted over them due to how good they both looked.

Jace was wearing a gray compression with grey shorts and she couldn’t help but focus for a quick moment on the way the shirt hugged his strong chest. Before she could get caught staring at his chest, her eyes moved to Andrew.

He was wearing a black tank top and black shorts. This is how she found herself staring at his arms and on the freckles littering his skin. She couldn’t help but wonder how many freckles he had and where the rest of them were.

Being here was turning out to be a mistake because they both looked way too good while Kaia could only stare at them. How the hell was she supposed to learn anything while she probably wouldn’t even be able to focus on that green ball.

“You actually came,” Jace was the first one to speak to her once they noticed her entering the court. He greeted her with a quick kiss on the lip, surprising her while Andrew watched the interaction with narrowed eyes.

From what she understood when she managed to listen and not stare at them, they wanted to teach her the basics of tennis so she could understand the sport and the rules a bit more. But she guessed that it was not the only idea they had in mind.

The blond athlete chose not to care about his friend’s reaction when he decided to take the lead first. He simply stepped behind her on the baseline, his chest pressing against her back. The chest she couldn’t stop staring at. One of his hands rested on her waist to correct her position while the other hand covered hers to correct her grip on the racket.

“Looser on the index finger or you will end up breaking it if your adversary serves too hard… yeah like that,” he murmured, his lips close to her ear. The hand that rested on her waist slid down to settle on her hip, so his fingers could now rest just under the hem of her tank top and against her bare skin.

Even as she was slowly getting the hang of it, his body stayed close under the pretense to guide her movements. Eventually, she finally managed to land a decent serve, something she thought impossible due to her clear lack of concentration. “Good girl. You’re picking up fast.” He praised softly and her mind went directly to the other contexts in which he could use those words, the heat rising to her face quickly. At least she could pretend it was from the effort and clearly not the effect he had on her.

Still, she needed fresh water to clear her mind at least a little but Andrew didn’t seem to care as he stepped in while she was starting to get lost in her thoughts.

“My turn.” he simply said as Jace eventually stepped away after one last squeeze on her waist. Then, the other man took his place behind her, his chest flush against her back while one of his hands splayed across her stomach under the pretense of wanting to guide her through more powerful serves.

“You’re holding back,” he muttered, his voice raw. “But don’t forget that you're supposed to beat your opponent. So commit to it.” Contrary to his friend, he didn’t correct the way she held the racket, instead his free hand slid down to her hip and thigh as if he was adjusting her stance but he was only pressing her closer to him.

“She was doing fine with my technique.” Jace interjected in an annoyed tone. It only earned him a sharp look from Andrew over Kaia’s shoulder.

“She’ll do better with mine.” he simply replied as if it was a well known fact that had statistics to back it up. Even though it was only another instance of them growing competitive over her.

And if the lesson wasn’t already just a way for them to act competitive, it was definitely one now. They kept taking turns to “teach” her when it was just lies to get close to her, it was obvious but she truly did not care about it.

Jace was smoother with it, his hands always lingering on her waist and arms while he whispered instructions against her ear as if they were alone and not constantly under Andrew’s annoyed glare.

The latter was more intense, his hands firm on her hips while he kept his entire body pressed against hers. It was if he couldn’t stay away from her, as if he constantly needed her body close to his.

By the end of the session, the air between the three of him was way too thick. She couldn’t care much about this as she downed her water in one go. Not only was she exhausted from the physical activity but their attention made her breathless.

It didn’t help that they both looked way too good covered in sweat. Andrew’s damp curls were sticking to his forehead and the nape of his neck. Their muscles straining from the effort and making them look even more bigger if possible.

Jace’s shirt clung to him and her gaze couldn’t help but dart once again to his chest. She noticed the sweat stains below it and there was no reason for that sight to be so attractive, yet, it worked for her and she had to force herself to look away.

She barely noticed that the sight of her covered in sweat also worked with them and that they were openly ogling her without a care in the world.

summary: today was supposed to be peaceful, that was until she needed to deal with Shane Maguire to find her lost horse.

pairing : shane maguire x fem! oc

warnings: nothing, just oc hating on shane and shane being right where he wants to be

When she woke up this morning, she knew that something was about to go wrong today but she had no idea what.

The feeling came back a little later when she was saddling her horse to go on a hike in the nearby woods.

But she simply brushed it off, maybe it was just one of those bad feelings that ended up amounting to nothing.

That feeling ended up being pretty reasonable an hour later once she got on her horse. The animal ended up being pretty excited, she could feel how tense he was beneath her, ready to buck around and throw her off at any minute.

She couldn't even enjoy the ride, she had to stay wary if she didn't want to end up in the mud today.

“Easy girl–” she started, patting her palomino mare's neck to try to soothe her but the animal only snorted.

And before she could even keep soothing her horse, a branch cracked and an animal, surely a deer crossed the trail right in front of them.

The horse reared suddenly and Joanna didn't even have the time to curse before gravity took her down.

She hit the ground hard, pain blooming across her shoulder, her hip and the side of her head. There was also a metallic taste in her mouth, she guessed that she probably bit her tongue during her fall.

The world was blurry to her as she could only focus on the sound of hooves slowly getting fainter.

“Fuck,” she groaned as she slowly moved to stand up.

Her head was throbbing, her pants were covered in dirt and in mud. The worst of it, her horse was gone while she was in the middle of a national park.

She needed help if she didn't want to sleep here and surely end up eaten by a bear or wolves. But the closest ranger station was the one where Shane Maguire worked which was just perfect.

Ever since she met him a few weeks ago, he had been under her skin. Just the mere sight of his camo jacket and his smirk made her want to smack him.

But right now, she had no choice and she had to ask for his help.

Slowly, she staggered into the small clearing, toward his ranger station. The entire time, she was cursing at the entire world.

She should have listened to herself this morning and stay in bed but of course she decided to not listen to her inner voice. She knew she looked like a mess, covered in mud, but she couldn't care less about this.

Eventually, she heard the familiar sound of an ATV engine. When she turned around, she could see the annoying face of Shane who stopped the ATV near her once he spotted her.

“Well,” he drawled at the sight in front of him, an amused smirk even stretching his lips. “You look like you've had a day.”

“Don't,” she snapped. Her head was pounding and she rubbed her temple, letting out a grunt at the pain. “My horse spooked and I need to find her before nightfall.”

“You're hurt,” he stated as if it wasn't obvious, making her let out an annoyed scoff at his observation.

“I'm fine,” she defended, taking a step back when he stepped closer. It was a mistake when her right ankle failed her, making her fall again.

But he instinctively caught her elbow, preventing her from falling down once again before steadying her. Still, she yanked her arm away as soon as her brain caught up to the fact that he was touching her.

“Easy sweetheart,” he said, his smirk now even wider and if her wrist didn't hurt that much, he would have already been smacked.

“Do not call me that.”

At this, he simply tilted his head slightly, observing her from head to toe.

“You gonna let me help you onto the ATV or do you want to look for your horse walking on a busted ankle ?”

Even if he was right, it didn't prevent Joanna from glaring at him. Now that he said it and that the adrenaline was dying down, she could feel the pain from her ankle.

“I can do it myself,” she muttered as she limped toward the ATV. It proved to be a pure failure when two steps later, she slipped on wet grass.

Once again, Shane moved fast by wrapping an arm around her waist to haul her upright. For a quick second, her back was pressed against his chest while her hands moved down to his arm to already free herself.

“Stubborn as hell,” he said against her ear. At this, heat flashed through her, a feeling she associated with anger and nothing else.

“Let go,” she simply replied as she kept trying to shove his arm away. He stayed unbothered as he guided her toward the ATV.

“Just get on before you fall again,” he said as he practically forced her onto the seat so she wouldn't face her worst enemy of the day again : gravity.

“We're finding my horse. That's it. Then I can go back to pretending that you don't exist.”

His eyes dropped to her mouth for a second before meeting her gaze once again. He seemed constantly amused and she hated this.

“You're cute when you're being mean, you know that ?” He teased while she looked ready to murder him.

“I'm not trying to be cute,” she shot back, rolling her eyes as she spoke.

“Trust me,” he said, his eyes dropping to her cheek covered in mud and before she could stop him, he moved his hand to smear the mud even more on her face. “I noticed.”

The air crackled and her breath caught despite herself. Even concussed and aching everywhere, she was still way too aware of every inch between them.

She hated him and she hated the fact that she noticed the way his thermal shirt clung to his shoulders and that he was still standing way too close.

He finally moved a few seconds later, swinging onto his seat and nodding at her behind him.

“Hold on if you don't want to end up in the river next.”

At this, she simply muttered a few curses before wrapping her arms around his waist. She fell down from her horse today so falling from an ATV wasn't really in her plans.

For a peaceful moment, they followed the trail of hoof prints and Shane didn't open his mouth for an enjoyable time.

summary : a party is the best way to feel better after a possible concussion but who expected it to become a little heated

pairing : jace (wilson bethel) x fem! oc x andrew (shawn hatosy)

warnings : make-out and a little bit of groping. no smut yet <3

part one

Eloise was going through the clothes hanging from the racks while Kaia was in the changing rooms, trying different outfit options. But for the moment, nothing seemed right.

They both were at an upscale boutique near the tournament hotel. They only had an hour before the party started and they both didn't want to look bad near those athletes.

Her friend peeked her head inside the changing room, wrinkling her nose at the outfit.

“Way too formal,” she said, “this is a party with famous tennis players, not a work event.”

Eloise already picked a sleek black slip dress with thin straps and slit that reached her mid thigh.

“Try this,” she offered as she held out a pale blue sundress to Kaia.

The dress fabric was light and it had a sweetheart neckline that showed enough cleavage for her to be comfortable. The hem of it reached her mid-thigh.

And finally, for the first time since they entered the boutique, Eloise seemed to finally agree with the selected clothes.

A whistle even escaped her friend's lips once she exited the changing room. “Now, that's perfect,” she said with a large smile.

After one last look at the clock, they quickly paid for their clothes and headed back to the hotel so they could finish getting ready.

–

The rooftop party was not what she expected but maybe it was because she never attended an athlete party in the past.

Tonight she wasn't here for work, Eloise's boyfriend extended his invitation to attend the party to both women and eventually, the two players that surely gave her a concussion invited her too.

Music pulsed as players, coaches and very few journalists mingled together or shared drinks. Kaia couldn't help but feel a little awkward as she stood with Eloise and her boyfriend, Callum.

The two met when Eloise wrote her very first article for their newspapers a few years ago, at another tennis event nonetheless.

He was tall with curly brown hair and he was completely devoted to his girlfriend. Kaia couldn't help but sometimes poke fun at the two by making grossed out faces when the PDA became too much, but in all honesty, she was truly happy for her friend.

(But that didn't stop her from imitating Callum's Scottish accent to joke around.)

As if he could hear her thoughts, he shot her a knowing grin after sparing a glance behind her.

“Looks like you've got company,” he said as he nodded towards Jace and Andrew that were both approaching. Before she could even reply to him, Eloise pulled him toward the open bar.

Jace was the first one to arrive, wearing a black button-down where the first two buttons popped open and a pair of black jeans. When his gaze locked on her, it faltered for a quick second.

Andrew appeared right behind him, his eyes dragged down her body, to the way the blue fabric clung to her waist and skimmed her thighs. At the sight, his jaw tightened.

“You came…” Jace breathed out in a tone way more raspy than his usual one.

“Well I couldn't refuse an invitation to a party and free drinks,” she said with a small giggle. The two made her feel a little nervous.

After all they were both hot, famous (or at least in the tennis world) and they both seemed interested in her. That last part was what caught her a bit off guard, maybe it was still her mind not working right after getting smacked in the head that hard.

Eventually, she managed to shake off those thoughts as she ordered herself an espresso Martini at the bar. She ended up following the duo to a quiet corner with two glasses though.

It was simply them both offering the drinks they promised her earlier that day as some sort of apology.

As soon as she settled onto the comfortable cushions of the booth, they both moved directly to sit on both sides, trapping her between them. The tension between the two was so thick that she doubted that a knife could cut, in her opinion, the blade would definitely break.

“So,” Andrew started as he leaned back, the sleeves of his navy shirt stretching against his arms, “what did you think of the match? And be honest about it.”

Her brows furrowed at the thought of a fitting answer, she doubted that athletes wanted to hear someone criticizing what they did for a living.

“Well, if I have to be honest, I know nothing about tennis and even with Eloise explaining things to me constantly, it still doesn't make much sense to me.” she said, mindlessly crossing her legs as she spoke, not even noticing how her dress riding up a little drew the attention of the two men sitting by her side.

“And then I get hit by a ball, but at least I end the day with free drinks so…” she added with a shrug. To be honest, forming a full thought about today was hard but she supposed that this day wasn't so bad.

Jace chuckled as he shifted closer to her, boldly moving his hand so it could brush her lower back.

“You seem pretty okay,” he said as his gaze moved to the bruise that was slowly turning purple. Even with some foundation, it was still visible. “And you managed to stay up when it hit, it's an achievement in itself.”

“Not my proudest one,” she replied with a shake of her head, a small giggle escaping her lips before she took a sip of her drink.

She quickly ended up choking on it when Jace said, “at least it gave us an excuse to talk to you properly,” while Andrew's hand found her knee, his thumb stroking her skin lightly.

To her relief, the discussion switched to safer topics when they asked more about her. Honestly, she didn't know if she could survive an entire of both of them flirting with her.

“Events in general,” Kaia corrected the brown haired athlete when he asked her about what she wrote. “I also write about lifestyle stuff. My boss wanted me to describe the vibes, the crowd and maybe get a few quotes from the player.”

“We can give you more quotes if you want,” Jace offered, a small smirk stretching his lips.

“That's nice but I have some doubts about your quotes,” she teased, finding some confidence after finishing her first glass.

The air between them kept growing thicker and the athletes were slowly getting bolder as they started to make more moves.

Jace kept leaning to speak close to her ear, his fingers grazing the bare skin of her back that was available to him while Andrew's hand stayed on her knee but it slowly inched higher. His gaze kept dropping toward the hem of her dress.

She didn't even dare to look at the party, especially since she could feel the stares of both Callum and Eloise who seemed to be way too amused by her current situation.

Yet, she couldn't really dwell on it when she felt fingers cupping her chin and tilting her head so she could meet Jace's gaze. The invitation was clear, especially when his gaze kept dropping to her lips, yet he allowed her to choose, to initiate.

Maybe it was the drink, the tension or simply her attraction to them but she gave in and pressed her lips against his.

The kiss was deep and slow, as if he wanted to savor the moment. Then, his tongue traced her bottom lip which made her part her lips almost directly so his tongue could slip inside. One of his hands cupped the side of her cheek while his other hand that was still on her back pulled her closer.

As Kaia pulled away to breathe, Andrew took that opportunity to remind her of his presence as he turned her head towards him before pressing his lips against hers.

The kiss was completely different, it was rougher and more urgent. His teeth nipped at her lower lip before slipping his tongue inside her mouth. It was as if he was trying to erase the fact that Jace had just kissed her. His hand moved to grip her thigh under the hem of her short dress, squeezing it.

The rest became a blur as they didn't take turns cleanly, it quickly became a heated mess. Jace would pull her back for another kiss, his hands moving up her ribs, and as soon as they parted, Andrew would turn her towards him, kissing her even harder.

She thought she was imagining things the first time that Andrew grunted - almost growled even - into her mouth. The sound did things to her that she would never admit out loud.

At one point they were all way too close, their lips brushing hers and sometimes each other's. They were all too lost into the heat of it all to truly focus.

While her hands could only clutch into their shirts, their hands never stopped moving. Jace’s fingers traced the neckline of her dress before dipping to brush the underside of her breasts. And Andrew's palm kept sliding higher up her thighs, having one clear goal.

She was breathless between the two as they trapped her between their bodies. Her lips were swollen from all the kisses and her head spinning from the lack of oxygen.

Eventually, Jace pulled back just enough to talk against her swollen lips, “you have no idea what you're doing to us.”

Breaking the kisses could have been an opportunity to truly focus on his words but it seemed that Andrew had another idea when he nuzzled his head into the crook of her neck just to suck a mark there.

A clear warning that he wasn't ready to share, at least not tonight.

The blond athlete only shook his head at his friend's behavior, not even phased by it.

“You don't have to choose tonight… but that doesn't mean we will step back.” Jace simply said as his breathing was slowly settling down.

“This is insane,” Kaia murmured in pure disbelief. She had only one taste of them and she already knew that picking would be completely impossible.

summary : when she became a journalist, she expected events related to movies or music awards, not sports events. Yet, when she was sent to write an article about a tennis' tournament, she didn't expect to gain the interest of two tennis players.

pairing : jace (wilson bethel) x fem! oc x andrew (shawn hatosy)

author's note : this fanfic is a challengers AU aka an idea I had with a moot, and that was a bit developed with a gc (shoutout to wilson island). Here, the love interest are played by shawn hatosy and wilson bethel.

warnings : nothing for now but there will be smuts in later chapters

When she worked to get her journalism degree, she saw herself writing articles about multiple prestigious events. She imagined those events to be related to cinema or even music awards.

But she didn't imagine herself going to a tennis championship.

It's not that she hated tennis, but she knew almost nothing about that sport apart from the fact that it was mostly a rich person sport and that it consisted of watching a ball going left and right until one of the players gained a point.

But truly, she had no interest in writing an entire article about a tennis championship. Weren't the sport reporters better fitted for this ? She thought bitterly.

“Come on, you'll like it,” her coworker, Eloise, said as they both flashed their press badges to the security.

“You are the sport reporter here, I have no idea why I am sent to write another article for this event. I don't even know anything about tennis’ rules.” Kaia replied with an annoyed sigh.

Sure, Eloise was sent with her to help her understand a bit more about the sport they were reporting about while also writing her own articles that would be a bit more focused on the players. But she just knew that the rules would stay a blur in her head, after all even following a card game rules was sometimes a challenge, her brain always shutting off during the explanations.

She glanced at the woman next to her, she wore a black silk camisole tucked into a white wide-leg tailored trousers and her dark hair was into a low bun. Her black tote bag held almost everything needed for work today.

Meanwhile Kaia wore a white sleeveless blouse tucked into a high-waisted tailored beige shorts that reached mid-thigh. A crossbody messenger bag rested against her hip as it held every of her belongings, including her camera. Her blond hair was tied in a high ponytail with a few strands of her hair framing her face.

On the bleachers, there were thousands of spectators wearing polos or sundresses that probably cost way more than her rent.

“I write features about movie premieres or basic lifestyle stuff,” she added as she adjusted the strap of her bag while her friend was buying herself an iced latte that was clearly overpriced. “Not… whatever this is,” she said as gestured towards their surroundings.

“You'll survive, Kaia,” her coworker said in an amused tone. “Maybe you'll even find some players sexy.”

“Doubt it,” she replied, even scrunching her nose at the mere thought before looking down at her phone where she wrote everything she had to do today.

–

The match had already started by the time they finished interviewing some players in the lounge area.

She did an interview with a woman who lost her previous match. The answers were pretty basic but she knew she could still get a good article out of this.

As Kaia left the lounge to go back towards the press seats, she checked her notes one more time, trying to see what she still had to do today.

She was so focused that she didn't see the ball coming towards her at full speed but she registered way too late someone shouting “lookout !”

Because a second later, a powerful thwack echoed across the court as a tennis ball struck her on the side of the head, right on the temple.

The violent impact knocked her off balance, making her vision even white out for a second. Her phone shattered on the ground, but she couldn't focus on it when the pain was too much.

“Shit–” could be now heard across the court from two different voices that spoke at the same time.

Two figures quickly approached her, she only looked up once she saw their shadows as soon as they were near her.

The first to reach her had curly brown hair damp from sweat, his hazel eyes scanning her face and locking on the bruise that was already forming on her temple. The man was still breathing hard from the match he had just abandoned.

But she had no time to focus on him when another man approached. He was taller than the brown haired man but he was just as broad. His dark blonde hair was pushed back and just like the brown haired one, he had a concerned look.

“Are you okay ?” The first man asked, his voice low. His hand hovered near her shoulder, almost like he wanted to steady her but he wasn't sure if he could.

“I'm so sorry. That was a fucking rocket.”

Kaia only blinked hard, her head was still throbbing and she felt completely embarrassed. Of course, she was getting hit in the head on her first sports event ever and in front of hundreds of people.

“I'm… fine. I guess.”

The blonde picked up her fallen and clearly destroyed phone and offered it back to her as his gaze also fell to the bruise forming on the side of her face.

“You're still up, that's a good sign. Let's get you some ice,” he finally spoke up, his eyes lingering on her face.

“I'm Jace. This is Andrew.” He added, finally introducing themselves to her while Kaia looked between them, still a little dazed.

“I'm Kaia,” she replied. “I'm normally not getting concussed on court, I promise.” It was getting more and more obvious that the incident was embarrassing to her.

“The least we can do is buy you a drink after this match. Or get you checked out by the medic.” Andrew offered a small smile stretching his lips.

Meanwhile, Jace was waving over a tournament official even if his gaze stayed on her.

“Make it two drinks. One from each of us. After all, we're both at fault here.” He added quickly as the two men seemed to share a tense look.

Before she could think about it, the official and Eloise arrived simultaneously. Her coworker fussed as she directly went to take a good look at the fresh bruise on Kaia's face, her brows furrowing in concern.

She was unable to focus on anything, the sounds were too much between her friend worried questions, the official apologizing profusely and the two men clearly tense discussion.

Still, she caught a few words from Jace. “Doesn't mean she can't like both of us,” he said in a cocky tone.

Her cheeks flushed as she suddenly felt a bit too hot but she tried to convince herself that she didn't hear it right. It was definitely the impact that affected her hearing.

She definitely didn't do athletes and that was mutual.

–

She was quickly proven wrong once the match resumed after a short delay.

The two men dominated the court, clearly on edge and desperate to win. Every time they gained a point, they glanced toward the press box where she sat while pressing an ice pack to her temple.

By the time Andrew won the second set, the tension between the two reached its peak and everyone could sense it.

Eloise eventually nudged Kaia with her elbow, a grin on her lips as she looked at her friend.

“Told you there would be sexy players,” at this, she only grunted in fake annoyance while her gaze was stuck to the two players who were already planning another match.

part 1 ; part 2 ; part 3

summary : after almost a year as windfall, it is time for her first event with bombsight, neither of them planned that it would go all wrong.

pairing : fem! self ship x bombsight (robbie)

warnings : angst, mentions of death, character almost dying, vought being assholes again, but happy ending.

Chicago, 1953

The military exhibition was just pure marketing even if Vought sold this as a patriotic act. As if they were paying respects to the lives lost during the war.

There were American flags stretched across every building while marching bands could be heard from afar.

Thousands of civilians were crowded against barricades. They were fighting to be in front and get the best spot to see America's heroes in flesh.

To bombsight, it was the perfect recipe for disaster. The crowds were already going crazy and he doubted that using powers near them was really a bright idea but once again, Vought gave him no choice.

“You’re scowlin’ again.”

Chiara's voice was what pulled him from his thoughts as he glanced sideways toward her. She was standing beside him near the center of the exhibition platform that overlooked the city square.

For the moment, they were still hidden by the curtains, giving them the freedom to act however they wanted before having to perform for the crowd.

Wind was tugging at the golden cape, while her blonde hair was curled perfectly and her makeup made her look like the picture perfect Hollywood star.

She looked beautiful tonight. She always did but today, Vought outdid themselves for her first real interaction with the crowd.

But it only made his stomach twist with dread because beneath that make-up and smile, she looked exhausted. Sometimes, it even looked like she was going to pass out.

Most people couldn't tell but he could. He noticed how pale she had become those last few weeks and the powder barely concealed it. Her smile also looked strained and whenever she used her powers, he noticed how her hands started shaking.

Vought were the only ones who also noticed but they didn't care.

“You alright?” He asked quietly even though he doubted she would be honest about it.

She still had a hard time opening up about her more negative feelings, always afraid of it burdening the person she would confess to. He knew it came mostly from her upbringing but now that they were together, he hoped that it would change with time.

He was proven right when she smiled at him.

“I am,” she replied even if both knew that it was a lie. But he did not have the opportunity to push further when one of Voughts's handlers approached them.

“Places. We're live in thirty seconds.”

His jaw tightened at this. Of course it was live, Vought had to make everything into a spectacle.

He couldn't even pay attention to the orchestra swelling or the announcers introducing them, he was too focused on the way her fingers brushed briefly against his hand.

It was as if searching for grounding before being forced apart for the cameras. His hand instinctively closed around hers for half a second before the handler had enough and forced her to move away.

Everything felt heavier today. As if the atmosphere itself knew something was going to go wrong.

Even his jacket felt heavier, but that was for another reason. A vial of V1 was hidden in his pocket, he stole it as soon as Chiara confessed to him that her powers were killing her.

He never planned on stealing it until that day. But it all changed with her because he knew that he would do anything to keep her safe.

When the announcer's voice boomed again at the same time the curtains were drawn open.

“Begin launch simulation,” one of Vought employees said behind them.

And they just needed to look up to see the artificial missiles being activated along a suspended cable system. Vought really did go all out for this event.

At first, everything went perfectly as he easily intercepted the first missile while Chiara redirected another with more controlled currents of air.

And everyone seemed to love it, if he took into account the way they were constantly blinded by flashes while their names were screamed by the crowd.

But something ended up malfunctioning in the middle of it. Since the beginning, a missile kept jerking violently but now it was its time to shine as the cable suddenly snapped, sending the missile plummeting directly towards the crowd.

Before he could even react, Chiara was on it as she tried to redirect the missile away before it could hit the ground.

To his relief, it worked, but only for a second but the missile detonated prematurely. Something neither of them could have anticipated.

The explosion ripped across the square and it shook the nearby buildings while shockwaves slammed through the crowd.

And Chiara ? She completely lost control as the winds erupted outward her body in violent bursts, sending the barricades flying and the windows shattering.

The sound of civilians screaming was deafening but he forced himself through the storm in search of her.

“CHIARA!” he screamed at the top of his lungs as he desperately looked around.

When he finally saw her, she collapsed on the ground near the ruined platform. The concrete beneath her cracked from the pressure of the winds that kept erupting from her body.

She was on her knees, her trembling hands pressed against the pavement as if she could hold herself together and contain her powers. As if she could stop herself.

Blood was pouring heavily from her nose and she had coughing first that made her spit blood.

Even though she was in clear pain, she couldn't stop apologizing because no matter what, she couldn't stop herself.

“I'm sorry–” she choked between two coughing fits. “I can't–”

Another violent gust erupted from her, making the cars around them rock violently, almost sending them flying.

He only managed to reach her the moments her arms gave out beneath her, sending her to collapse hard onto the pavement.

“Chiara!” he yelled in panic as he dropped beside her instantly, grabbing her head before it could smash against the ground.

But terror filled him as soon as he had her in his arms. Her body felt weak, way too weak and way too cold. Blood stained the corner of her lips while she struggled to breathe, as if every inhale was painful to her.

And at every spike of pain tearing through her, the wind grew stronger.

“Hey,” he said quickly as he carefully cradled her face, smudging blood on his gloves and her cheeks. “Stay with me.”

Yet her eyes barely focused on him, she was unable to truly pay attention to him.

“Robbie…” she still managed to mutter before another cough tore through her violently. Blood splattered across his jacket as she did so, but he couldn't care about that when she was literally dying in his arms.

“It hurts,” she whispered weakly.

Those two words broke his heart as he remembered how she told him that her powers were killing her. He knew that if he didn't do anything right now, her organs would all shut down and he couldn't let that happen.

He made his décision almost instantly as he shoved his hand inside his jacket to retrieve that small syringe that held the V1.

Once she noticed the syringe between his fingers, the blue liquid, fear flickered in her eyes as she could only remember how that same liquid was killing her right now.

“No…” she muttered between ragged breaths.

“I know.” he cooed as he tried to reassure her. He knew she didn't trust the liquid in that syringe but it was the only way to save her.

She stopped for a second when she noticed the look of genuine fear on his face. It was the first time that she saw that look in his eyes since she met him. He was not scared for himself but for her.

“I stole it.”

The winds around them only grew stronger, covering the screams of the Vought employees.

“Robbie… don’t…” she pleaded as she weakly tried to grab his wrist.

“You’re dying.”

The hand still cradling her cheeks was trembling as his thumb rubbed her cheek to dry her pained tears. Yet, at the same time he was smudging her own blood there.

“You think I’m gonna sit here and watch that happen?” His voice cracked harshly as he seemed ready to break down at the mere thought of her dying. “No. No goddamn way.”

Before she could try to reply, another coughing fit stopped her, splattering even more blood onto his uniform.

At this sight, he knew he couldn't wait anymore as he directly moved to uncap the syringe.

“Forgive me later.”

Then, without any hesitation, he drove the needle into her arm and injected the V1.

Almost instinctively, she screamed and her body squirmed violently against him. The winds got so strong that they slammed him backwards but he held onto her, wrapping his arm around her so she wouldn't get hurt in the process.

“Chiara!”

He could see the way her blue veins were glowing unnaturally beneath her skin as the V1 was spreading fast while she became almost still in his arms.

For a moment, he thought that he killed her himself but suddenly, everything stopped. The winds vanished as the debris that were previously floating around crashed onto the ground.

The following silence felt heavy into the now empty and ruined streets. But he couldn't focus on that, not when she was still limp in his arms.

“Chiara.” he tried once, the lack of response making him panic.

“Chiara!” he tried again, gently shaking her. He needed her to wake up.

And finally, a shaky breath escaped her lips. It was weak but it was there. At this, relief flooded him and a heavy exhale escaped his lips when her eyes opened once again.

The burst blood vessels in her eyes faded almost directly while her breathing seemed smoother.

When her gaze met his, the air suddenly felt warmer as his mere presence was enough to calm down the atmosphere itself.

He didn't even dare to move, scared that if he did, she would go limp again and reveal that he didn't save her, that it was all in his head.

But when she tried to reach for him, he broke. He pulled her tightly against his chest as he buried his face into her hair. He knew she could feel the erratic beat of his heart and how shaky his breath was but he didn't care.

“You scared the hell outta me,” he whispered against her hair. He then pressed kisses there, unable to stop himself, it was a way for him to make sure that she really was there.

Meanwhile, she weakly buried her face against his shoulders, unable to truly process what happened to her.

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t. You're alive and that's what matters.”

They both could hear the sirens through the streets and the way the Vought executives were screaming their names from afar.

But none of that mattered to him. What mattered is that she was alive, that she was here.

part 1 ; part 2

summary : one news seems to be enough to change everything between chiara and robbie

pairing : fem! self ship x bombsight (robbie)

warning : SMUT (18 +), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), mentions of death, a bit of angst but also a bit of fluff

The first sign that something was wrong with her happened during filming a new commercial.

At first, she believed that it was exhaustion. After all, Vought was constantly pushing her schedule harder and harder now that Windfall was getting more famous in America.

She was now doing more interviews, more commercials beside bombsight because audiences adored the two together.

She ignored the warning signs such as dizziness whenever she used her powers for too long. Or the constant headaches blooming behind her eyes. Or even the sharp pressure in her chest whenever she lost control over her powers.

Vought doctors dismissed her worries so she did the only thing she could do, to keep smiling.

—

The commercial took place inside a familial house where Bombsight was supposed to return to after a fake military operation while Windfall greeted him home.

It was domestic and Vought adored it. They knew that the audiences would adore this.

The cameras rolled while Chiara cooked, making the ingredients float around her.

“Beautiful,” the director encouraged, clearly proud of how far she had come since her first commercial.

Then, Bombsight stepped into frame beside her. As soon as he was near her, the air shifted around them. Every time he was near her, her heartbeat reacted.

“Welcome home,” she recited softly as she offered him a bright smile.

“Miss me?” he asked smoothly. It was scripted but the smiles that tugged both of their lips weren't.

“Unfortunately.” At her reply, he snorted quietly beneath his breath and the director adored this scene.

“Keep that,” he shouted excitedly. “That chemistry right there.”

She tried to stay focused on the scene, on her script but suddenly, a sharp pain split through her chest making her unable to breathe.

Every ingredient dropped on the ground while wind surged outward hard enough to shake the lights. At this, some of the crew members stepped back immediately, fearing for their own safety.

Yet, bombsight was the only who didn't look at her in annoyance, but in concern. She was pale, way too pale.

“Cut!” the director yelled. “Jesus Christ—”

The short break allowed her to press a trembling hand against her ribs while she struggled to breathe normally again.

“I’m okay,” she managed automatically as she already felt guilty about interrupting the shooting. Especially after how well everything was starting to evolve.

But that wasn't enough to convince him as he was already walking toward her, not even letting her finish speaking.

“You don’t look okay.”

“It’s just stress.” she quickly replied as she didn’t want him to worry too.

“Bullshit.”

The words came out sharp, maybe way sharper than intended but he was more worried about her than about his own tone.

Still, he lowered his voice almost immediately when he noticed the startled look crossing her face.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “Just… sit down a second.”

Before she could even protest or act like she was fine, his hand settled against the small of her back to guide her toward a nearby chair.

The feeling of his hand, even gloved, resting against her back grounded her. Once sat, his hand moved to rest on her knee, drawing soothing circles on the exposed skin.

Unfortunately for her, Vought noticed her state.

—

Three days later, Vought asked her to come to the medical wing once again. It was her second time and by now, the white walls and leds became suffocating and too familiar.

They kept monitoring whenever she was using her powers, whether by making wind bursts or by dropping the oxygen in the room. Those examinations left her completely exhausted.

But today, the doctors looked nervous, and she knew that it meant one thing, that it was bad.

She sat on the edge of the examination while two doctors quietly reviewed the papers together across the room. They weren’t concerned by the fact that she could hear them.

“She’s deteriorating faster than expected.” one said “The vascular strain is worsening.”

Some of those words were pure gibberish to her but it was easy to understand that it was bad, like really bad.

“And her lungs?” one of the two asked, creating a small silence as they both looked at the paper.

“Pulmonary damage.”

A feeling of dread settled heavily inside her stomach. She wasn’t dumb, she knew that it was bad and that she probably would die if the list kept getting longer.

Finally, one of the two men approached her directly, making her look up at him. Just a look at his professional expression was enough to make this feeling of dread even more suffocating.

“Miss Adami,” he said slowly, in a rehearsed voice, as if he was trying to calm down a skittish animal. “Your body is struggling to adapt to the Compound V.”

“What do you mean ?” She asked as she felt her throat tightening, but she refused to break down in front of them.

“It means that your powers are placing stress on your organs faster than anticipated.” He said calmly, as if he wasn't telling her that she was literally dying.

“Your generation of supes is still experimental compared to V1. So we still are unaware of some of the side effects.”

His words made her feel sick, she felt ready to puke but she forced herself to stay calm.

“You'll need monitoring,” he continued, not even caring about sparing her feelings. “We will make sure to reduce your emotional strains, to avoid some of your power output whenever it's possible.”

She almost laughed at this. As if Vought would care about putting less pressure on one of their products. They cared more about money than about them.

“What happens if it gets worse?” she asked. She could feel the way her voice grew shaky as she spoke, but she didn't feel like caring about it.

Only silence replied to her as the doctors clearly hesitated. Somehow, that was even more terrifying to her.

—

Bombsight found her afterward while she sat alone outside the medical wing. Her makeup was still a mess, it was pretty obvious that she had been crying. The mascara was smudged just below her eyes.

He immediately crouched in front of her, his hand moving directly to her knee, massaging it in a comforting manner. The gesture became almost automatic after the first time he did it.

“What happened ?”

She tried smiling at him but it failed directly. She felt unable to fake happiness this time.

“They say my body is not adapting properly to compound V,” she admitted as she looked away, unable to meet his gaze. “Every time I use my powers, it hurts me.”

Speaking it aloud felt even worse, because it made everything real. Things were only starting to look good and she wouldn't even be able to truly enjoy it.

“What do you mean it hurts you?” he asked in a worried tone.

“They say that I have pulmonary damage. But it's not only that, it attacks all of my organs too.”

For a second, his face turned blank. He couldn't even hide behind his smirk or sarcasm. He only felt stunned anger.

“And they still got you filming? They still got you doing their stupid events ?”

She didn't even answer him, but it was enough to answer his questions. He couldn't stand still anymore, standing up abruptly. He started muttering as he paced around the room.

“Those goddamn—”

“Robbie.”

She called out softly and her voice was enough to stop him instantly. The look on his face was hurting her even more than admitting that she was dying.

Because for the first time, someone truly cared about her but she didn't even have enough time with him.

Slowly, he crouched down in front of her again and stayed silent for a while until she admitted softly : “I'm scared.”

Her confession was only a whisper but it was enough for him to look down at his hand that moved to rest near her hand.

“Yeah.” he answered quietly.

He couldn't even reassure her because he was just as scared. But still, an idea formed in his mind.

—

After that day, something shifted, as if the distance they tried to maintain was slowly disappearing.

He was always close to her, whether during filming, interviews or even galas. It was as if he parted from her, she would disappear.

Some would call it hovering but she didn't care. She allowed him to.

Because if she died, at least, she would have enjoyed his presence as much as possible.

—

A few days later, during a rainy evening, filming ended up late. Most of the crew had already gone home, wanting to avoid the storm that was brewing outside.

Ever since she earned her power, the sound of thunder became weirdly calming.

She sat wrapped in Bombsight’s leather jacket. Once again, she was sitting on the porch of one of the fake houses, the script for tomorrow laying forgotten on her laps.

She was watching Bombsight as he leaned against an artificial streetlight, smoking while he also listened to the sound of rain hammering against the roof of the studio.

“Aren't you tired of staring ?” He asked her suddenly, not even turning to look back at her.

At his words, she could feel her cheeks heating up in embarrassment.

“I wasn’t staring.” she quickly defended herself. She knew that she answered way too fast but she didn't care.

“Sure.”

An amused smirk stretched his lips while she rolled her eyes. Silence settled between them once again, but it didn't need to be filled, it was comfortable.

Eventually, he turned his head to look at her. His gaze was soft but also full of worry for her.

“You should be home resting.”

“You should too,” she countered. Since that night when she saw him taking those pills, she made the vow to stay on set until he left, so at least, he wouldn't take some under her watch.

“The difference is I’m not the one coughing blood after moving air around all day.”

Her expression crumpled directly at his words, making him mutter a curse as he regretted his words as soon they left his mouth.

“Chiara–”

“No, you’re right.” she said softly, her voice shaky. It always hurts to hear that, no matter how true it was.

“I think I'm dying a little,” she finally added in a whisper, playing with her fingers. A nervous gesture she gained through the years.

That confession was enough to have him moving. He crushed the butt of the cigarette under his foot before crossing the set in long strides, stopping directly in front of her. He was now so close that she has to tilt her head up to meet his gaze with her own.

“You listen to me,” he said, voice low but rough. “You are not dying.”

“But you know what the doctors said–”

“You're not,” he said, truly believing his own words. He had a plan but he couldn't tell her anything yet, even if he was itching to spill everything.

Slowly, he lifted his hand, giving her time to pull away if she wished to. When she didn't try to move away, his warm and calloused fingers brushed beneath her chin. The touch was gentle though as he tilted her face up.

Neither of them moved though, even if her powers reacted directly to the proximity. A warm wind swirling between both of them.

His eyes darkened as they flicked down to her lips. “Christ,” he murmured, his voice rough with months of restraint and longing.

Then, he finally kissed her. It wasn't soft or hesitant but deep and urgent as if a dam finally broke. His lips were firm and warm against hers, she could still taste and smell the cigarette that he just smoked.

His hand stayed cupped beneath her chin while the other slid down to her waist, pulling her closer until her body was flushed against his chest.

Her breath hitched against his mouth. One of her hands fisted in the front of his buttoned shirt, anchoring herself while the kiss almost overwhelmed her.

She could feel how his stubble scraped against her skin while his tongue brushed against her lower lip. Instinctively, she parted her lips for him as he took this opportunity to deepen the kiss that became even more consuming.

The wind that was already swirling around them grew stronger. Making papers scatter around and the lights swaying overhead.

Yet, as soon as his thumb stroked her jaw tenderly, the wind stopped. Once again, he was able to calm her without even doing much.

When he finally pulled away, they were both breathing hard. Both of their lips were swollen and tingling but they couldn't hold back the smile stretching their lips as they stared at each other.

Bombsight rested his forehead against hers, their eyes closing for a moment.

“Well… I guess we crossed a new line,” he said, a breathless laugh escaping his lips. She couldn't even her own shaky laugh that escaped her in return.

This new feeling was overwhelming but before she could truly overthink it, she leaned in and kissed him this time.

—

That night, after they left the set, she followed him back to his apartment. They had some quiet agreement that both didn't want to be alone tonight, and their first kiss didn't help that.

Once inside, she lingered near the doorway while he tossed his keys onto the counter.

She took in the inside of his apartment. Just like hers, it was provided by Vought so their layout was the same. But his apartment was a little messier, with records stacked near a record player and an empty coffee mug near his leather couch.

There were also posters of his last two movies hanging on the wall. There were some photos of his time at the army and with his parents but his voice took her out of her thoughts.

“Coffee ?” He offered her with a smile.

“At midnight ?” She replied in an amused tone as she followed him into the small kitchen, leaning against the counter.

“I could offer you something else,” he finally suggested. His tone and his smirk were enough to depict what he was hinting at.

“And what is that ?” She replied playfully, not moving away as he slowly stepped closer, giving her every chance to step away.

Once his hands settled on her waist, his palms warm through her dress, her breath hitched slightly. Those touches were still new but she already craved more of those.

“You alright?” he asked, his voice low. As if he didn't want anyone to hear them even if they were alone.

She simply nodded before leaning and pressing her lips against his, she wasn't used to initiating but tonight, she didn't care.

The kiss was soft at first but quickly deepened with need. His response was just as hungry as he pulled her closer.

His hand slid to her back, slowly unbuttoning her dress between kisses. Once her dress crumpled to her feet, then his lips moved down to her neck, to her collarbone and to the swell of her breast while he unfastened her bra.

When she reached for his shirt, she could feel her fingers trembling. As soon as he noticed this, he helped her by guiding her hands over his chest to let her explore at her own pace.

“Come on,” he murmured against her skin before guiding her to his bedroom.

She had no time to take in the new space as he laid her down on the bed, settling between her parted thighs. His hands and mouth stayed gentle but he mapped every inch of her skin as he kissed his way down her body.

When his mouth wrapped around her left nipple, a soft whimper escaped her parted lips at the sensation. Moans followed when he kept his attention on her breasts until her nipples hardened.

Then his fingers made their way between her legs as he pulled her panties to the side. When his index made contact with her slick heat, her hips bucked instinctively at the touch while she gasped.

“Tell me if anything feels too much,” he murmured against her skin, looking up to meet her gaze with his own.

“I promise,” she simply whispered as a reassurance, it was quickly followed by a shaky moan when he inserted his fingers inside her.

It was obvious that he was experienced with the way he kept rubbing a spot inside her that she never reached before by herself but that felt way too good.

She could already feel herself getting close and by judging the smirk on his face, he could feel it too.

“Come on… let go,” he murmured against her skin before nipping it.

She had no idea why her body complied so easily but attributed it to her feelings for him and the way he seemed to clearly know what he was doing.

A moan escaped her lips as she climaxed for the first time that night. Unable to keep her eyes open as she did so, she closed them as she allowed the pleasure to wash over her.

He helped her ride it over by continuing his ministrations until he could feel her orgasm dying down, until she stopped milking his fingers.

Then, he removed his fingers from inside her, crawling up to press his lips against hers.

Her hands fumbled to push off his pants and boxers together.

“We can stop anytime,” he murmured against her lips but she only shook her head at his words. “You say the word.”

She pulled him closer instead. “I want this, Robbie. I want you.”

Hearing her words, he positioned himself at her entrance before slowly easing into her. The sharp sting of it made her breath hitch while her nails dug into his back.

That feeling made him still inside her almost immediately. Once again, he kissed her while murmuring words of encouragement against her lips.

“You're doing so good,” he kept repeating until the discomfort eased into a pleasurable ache. “So perfect.”

He began to move only once she relaxed with a slow and deep rhythm. The pleasure built once again gradually with every thrust and every rub of his thumb against her clit.

The entire time, the rhythm stayed unhurried. Eventually, she wrapped her legs around him to pull him deeper as the pleasure got slowly more and more overwhelming.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, even if it was only minutes, her second climax washed over her, still sensitive from her previous one. It triggered his own as hips stilled against hers, his cum painting her insides.

She couldn't find it in herself to care about the possible consequences with the way he groaned her name before kissing her.

–

Afterward, they laid tangled together under his bedsheets. Their damp skin slowly cooling down while they were catching their breaths.

Robbie couldn't stop touching her, his palm massaging her back like he needed it to reassure himself that she was still there with him. That she was still breathing.

For the first time since she earned her powers, they were completely still. It felt nice for a change.

After a long silence he pressed a kiss against her hair and whispered : “I love you, y'know.”

It seemed that he was surprised by his own words when she looked up and saw his slightly widened eyes and his pink cheeks.

Still, Chiara's heartbeat fastened as she couldn't help but feel slightly dizzy.

“I love you too,” she murmured before pressing her lips against his in a soft kiss that he returned.

pt 2 of dream a little dream of me

summary : after the first commercial, everything starts to change between chiara and bombsight as they learn more and more about each other

pairing : fem! self ship x bombsight (robbie)

warnings : 50s misogyny, objectification of women, toxic family and soldier boy is a warning in himself

The next commercials were slowly becoming easier to film. They served as the perfect practice for her even if she still stumbled over her marks and forgot some lines from time to time.

But Vought seemed pleased by her. They were putting so much importance on performances and were slick enough to put a good pr on a few mistakes, even the bigger ones.

To her, only bombsight seemed genuine, if she based her thoughts on him on their first encounter during that commercial. .

Maybe it was because she didn't meet the other supes yet but deep down, she knew that it wasn't the sole reason.

The words he spoke to her, the way he was truly seeing her impacted her more than she would have thought. She blamed it on the fact that he was the first person who saw her for who she really was.

Not a product. Not a failure. Not a bad daughter.

After this day, she couldn't help but notice him constantly. She was always on the lookout for him, always searching for his leather jacket whenever she was walking around the Vought's headquarters.

She didn't dare to put a name on what she was feeling yet because in all honesty, she didn't even know what those feelings truly were.

—

The current commercial set looked like a suburban street once again. At this rate, she was starting to doubt that Vought owned different sets.

She was assigned to work with Bombsight once again. The mere thought made her stomach twist, especially since they were now playing husband and wife.

“Places !” The director's voice shook her out of her thoughts, taking her right back to where she was, in the front yard of their fake family house. 

She was making float a few glasses of lemonade that she was bringing to Bombsight as he was standing near a fake telephone pole that he was supposed to repair.

“Miss your mark one time and we will restart the whole sequence, Windfall.”

Just those words were enough to both annoy Chiara and make her nervous. No matter how much she was getting used to filming, she still wanted to please Vought, to please the director.

Her annoyance did flicker through a little when the overhead lights flickered. Not enough to truly worry the crew members but enough to be noticed by Bombsight.

His gaze flickered directly toward her, studying her to make sure everything was alright (and that a storm wasn't going to destroy the entire set).

The annoyed gaze from the director didn't waver and before he could bark another reproach to her, he was interrupted.

“Bark at her again and I'm pretty sure you're going to lose a few cameras this time,” Bombsight drawled. The director was annoying him already and the filming only started.

Right behind him, stood Chiara who stared around in embarrassment. Unsure how to feel in the middle of this situation.

“It's alright,” she quickly said, her gaze darting between Bombsight and the director. “I can do it.”

“Yeah, I know,” the other supe replied to her, his words catching her off guard.

“Just breathe before they blow a gasket,” he murmured to her playfully, leaning in slightly so they wouldn't overhear him.

A small giggle escaped her lips at his words, her hands moving to cover her mouth and muffle the sound.

It was his time to be confused by his own feelings brought by her laughter.

—

Rest wasn't an option after filming, both were brought by Vought to a military fundraising gala downtown aka her very first official social event.

She remembered how gala events always looked magical in the films she watched as a little girl. The women were wearing elegant gowns while orchestras played on stage. She imagined movie stars descending staircases while receiving praises and looks of awe.

But reality was different when both her and Bombsight were forced to keep their costumes. After all, their costumes were what they embodied and without it, they would be nothing. Well, according to Vought.

In her opinion, Bombsight had it easy. His costume was identical to the ones worn by the combat pilots in the U.S. Armed Forces. It was meant to show in which faction he belonged to during the war, before becoming a supe.

Her costume was worse, way worse. The pale blue bodice hugged her waist so tightly that breathing became a challenge, and the sweetheart neckline of her costume dipped way too low in her opinion. She had to resist the constant urge of tugging it higher. The skirt stopped short and she had to keep tugging on it to feel, at least, a little comfortable. In her opinion, she was wearing something that came out of a pinup calendar. She didn’t feel like a supe at all.

The golden clouds embroidered on the cape were shimmering beneath the ballroom lights. It was beautiful but also completely humiliating.

This entire outfit made her feel displayed like some sort of toy and the men at the gala clearly agreed. She could feel the way their stares lingered, the way military officers lingered too long when she passed and the way older politicians were openly glancing down her body mid-conversation with a smile that made her skin crawl. 

One senator even placed his hand right on the spot where the skin of her back was bared while complimenting her “figure.” At this moment, she could feel her powers crawling under her skin, ready to summon a gust of wind directly into his face. Yet, she bit her cheek until she tasted blood to hold herself back. 

By the time they passed both the photographers and the journalists, her nerves felt frayed raw. The blinding flashbulbs that kept exploding didn’t help at all while she could only smile at everyone. 

She barely remembered the questions asked and the answers she replied. To be honest, she didn’t really care because every word she spoke tonight sounded artificial. It didn't feel like herself at all. 

Eventually, a few hours later, she managed to escape towards the refreshments table when the Vought handler that had been by her side the whole night ended up caught in a discussion with a businessman. She received no answers when she told him that she was going to get some champagne. 

Once there, she exhaled shakily while leaning against the wall, trying to fight off the knot that was forming inside her throat the whole night.

“That bad?” Bombsight’s voice startled her as he now stood beside her, appearing out of nowhere and holding two champagne glasses. She was so focused on calming herself down that she hadn’t even seen him approach. 

“I’m alright,” she replied automatically. She knew that it was an obvious lie and he definitely knew about it when his gaze lingered on her for a second before drifting across the ballroom and toward the men still staring at her. At this, annoyance flickered briefly across his face. 

“Sure you are,” he muttered. His tone made her glance at him properly. He didn't sound teasing, he sounded annoyed and protective. As if he was ready to throw a businessman through a wall if the older man opened his mouth.

Instead, he handed her one of the champagne glasses that he intentionally grabbed for her. 

“Thank you,” she said softly.

He shrugged casually, but his eyes flickered towards the way her fingers were once again tugging down the edge of her skirt. Something she did constantly tonight. At this thought, his jaw tightened.

“They got you dressed like a goddamn calendar girl,” he said flatly.

“I didn’t choose it.” she replied while heat rushed into her cheeks in embarrassment. 

“I know.”

Something about his answer made her chest ache. He said it without hesitation and without blame. It was almost like he was angry on her behalf but she had a hard time believing that. After all, they barely knew each other, there was no way he would get protective and attached to a rookie like her who kept messing everything up.

Before she could respond, Bombsight glanced once more toward a group of military officials openly staring nearby. His expression darkened at that.

Then, with visible annoyance, he shrugged off his brown leather flight jacket where his name was embroidered on the back. It made her blink in clear confusion, trying to understand what he was doing.

“What are you doing?”

“Put it on.”

“What?”

“Unless you enjoy half this ballroom starin’ at you like starving dogs.”

She couldn’t even process his words or how her breath hitched at because he was already draping it around her shoulders, preventing her from trying to protest.

The jacket swallowed her almost entirely. It smelt like heavy leather, smoke and cologne. It smelled like him and in a way, it was comforting. 

“There,” he muttered as he adjusted the collar once before stepping back. “That’s better.”

Something fluttered violently inside her chest but she was unable to focus on it while she was drowning in his scent and under his understanding gaze.

—

The next morning, as she returned to her brand new apartment offered by Vought, she found flowers waiting outside her door. Her brows furrowed as she crouched to search for a note tucked between the roses. 

One she found it, in a familiar handwriting, she could read : 

“We saw your billboard in Times Square. We’re proud of you. Call us.

Love, Mama & Papa”

She stared blankly at the note for a few seconds. She remembered her sixteenth birthday when her father told her that actresses always ended up lonely or disgraced when she dared to express her dream.

Or when her mother laughed after she got rejected from a theater production while telling her to “grow up” already. That she was still a foolish kid. 

But ever since Vought checks arrived every month and that her face was printed on magazines and posters. They suddenly became proud and loving parents. 

The flowers ended up in the trash as soon as she stepped inside her apartment. 

—

Her career was growing as organically as possible when she was literally Vought’s new products because a few months later, she was invited to the premiere of private’s angel new movie. 

The photographers delayed her entrance from the theater by nearly forty minutes, drowning her in constant flashes. Surprisingly, she was allowed to wear a blue and gold satin dress for this event. But she didn’t think too much of it, at least she received less hungry stares.

By the time she entered the theater, almost every seat was occupied. Well, except the one beside Bombsight. 

He was sprawled comfortably in his chair; way too casual for someone who was wearing a tailored navy suit worth more than the apartment she grew up in and that appeared on almost every ad sponsored by Vought.

She stopped beside him, sending him a confused look. “You saved me a seat?”

“Nah,” he replied immediately as if it wasn’t an obvious lie. “Nobody else wanted it.”

She scoffed in amusement as she sat down beside him, not noticing the way he looked at her or the way that the producer sitting in the row behind them looked deeply offended, as if Bombsight just cursed his entire bloodline.

Halfway through the film, Chiara ended up leaning slightly toward him. “You threatened somebody for this seat, didn’t you?” she murmured, not wanting to disturb the audience that was clearly focused on the movie playing. 

“I threatened lots of people today,” he murmured back.

A small laugh escaped her lips before she could prevent it. She didn’t care about the people hushing around her, she only cared about the way the sound made him glance sideways at her. 

And for some reason, they exchanged sideways glances and amused smiles the entire night as they completely forgot about the movie in front of them.

—

Eventually, staying late together on set became their new normal. They told themselves that it wasn’t intentional, that it just kept happening but they both knew the truth. 

Around them, the crew would dismantle sets while they lingered nearby, sharing their thoughts about almost everything that crossed their minds. Those moments felt real, and it was necessary to stay sane when you end up working for Vought. 

One night, they remained on set long after filming wrapped, the crew not having enough power to fire two of Vought’s coveted heroes from their workplace. And it was not like they were destroying the set, they were just talking. 

Half of the artificial suburban street had already been dismantled but this now usual scenery held some kind of comfort for her because she knew that she would always share this type of commercial with Bombsight.

Chiara sat cross-legged on the stairs of the porch of a pale yellow wooden house while he was leaned against the railing of the stairs, on her left, smoking lazily as the smoke curled upwards. 

“You ever think about quittin’?” he asked suddenly. The sudden question surprised her, she didn’t think he would even breach that subject with her during their talks.

“Acting?” she asked to make sure that she did understand his question. 

“This whole place.”

Her gaze ended up drifting across the dismantled set around them. He was talking about Vought and the fake happiness, the fake America they were selling to every citizen. Then, slowly, she shook her head.

“I can’t. Because if I fail now, they were right about me. About how I’m made for failure”

Bombsight frowned slightly. “Who?”

“My parents.”

The words tasted bitter on her tongue. It was normal, she guessed, after all she knew that parents were supposed to be encouraging and loving but she ended up having no luck in that department.

“My father used to leave newspapers open whenever actresses got divorced,” she admitted quietly. “He was telling me that it is what happens to women who chase attention with their silly dreams.”

Bombsight stayed silent, it seemed like he understood that it was something that deeply affected her§

“My mother said acting was embarrassing after a certain age,” she continued with a slight tremble in her voice. “Said eventually I’d stop marry somebody sensible to start a family, that it was what I should do.”

A breeze shifted unconsciously around her, her hurt at those memories manifesting once again due to her powers.

“But now I get money from Vought and now I am suddenly their little star. Suddenly they always believed in me.”

For a long moment, he said nothing as he tried to process everything and not hurt her feelings more by speaking carelessly. Then he finally muttered: “That’s a hell of a thing to do to your kid.”

Something tightened in her chest at his words, after all, it was the first time someone acknowledged what she went through and didn’t diminish it. 

—

It seemed that a few nights later, it was her turn to learn something new about Bombsight, or Robbie like he asked her to call him. 

That night, she forgot her gloves inside the soundstage after filming and only returned when everyone was supposed to already be home. At first glance, the studio seemed empty but movement near the lodges caught her attention.

She knew that she should just leave with her gloves and leave some intimacy to that person but something inside her told her that it was not the right choice to do. 

So, she tried to walk as sneakily as possible and stopped near Robbie’s opened lodge. He sat alone beneath the soft lights of the lodge, exhaustion clearly visible from her spot. It seemed like he didn’t even notice her.

She watched him tilt two small white pills into his palm before swallowing them dry with cold coffee.her nose scrunched instinctively at the thought of the cold coffee taste but the sight clearly made her worry.

It looked like he did this before, and many times at that. 

When he realized that she was there a few seconds later, he stiffened but he hid it with his usual smirk. Slowly, she learned to read behind that smirk but tonight, she felt a little clueless. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said lightly as if she didn’t walk on him seemingly taking drugs.

Chiara hesitated near the doorway. She was unsure how to proceed, after all she never dealt with drugs directly. “Like what?”

“Like I’m dying.” He leaned back in the chair lazily. “Docs give half the team these things. Keeps us awake.”

The casualness of it was unsettling. She could see how tired he truly was yet he was acting like it was all fine and she had no idea how to help him without losing the only person that truly seemed to see her. 

“You should sleep instead,” she said quietly.

That earned a soft laugh from him. He didn’t seem offended, instead, it looked like he simply accepted his fate. 

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, “you think Vought lets people like us sleep?”

For once, the petname didn’t make her heart flutter but twist her hearts in concern. His words lingering with her even when she laid in bed hours later.

—

Today was the day. She was officially meeting another member from Bombsight’s team. And it wasn’t anyone, it was Soldier Boy aka the leader and Vought’s golden child. 

She remembered how much her friends gushed about him whenever he appeared in the newspapers, in movies and even in his advertisements. Of course, she found him attractive, she had eyes after all. But weirdly, she never felt compelled to crush on the man.

Maybe it was because he was too unattainable or that her brain didn’t have enough space to think about men when she had too many things to worry about at that time.

But now that she was about to face him, she felt nervous, just like when she was about to meet Bombsight for the first time on her first commercial.

She observed the new supe when he entered the room like it belonged to him, as if everything here revolved around him. Which it kinda did. Everyone straightened whenever he walked past them, even the members of his own team. 

But Bombsight was the only one who looked more irritated than anything. 

In front of him, she could understand why her friends gushed so much about him. He was handsome but he was also charismatic. She couldn’t deny that. And he was aware of his own appeal; 

“Well, hell,” Soldier Boy drawled after spotting her standing a little awkwardly near the conference table. “So this is the new sweetheart everybody keeps talkin’ about.”

She straightened instinctively when he approached. Up close, he was intimidating and clearly scary to her. She didn’t even dare to frown in his direction. 

He took her hand before she could react and pressed a theatrical kiss against her knuckles. She cursed herself internally when she blushed, she hated being the center of attention right now, in this room full of supes and Vought executives.

“Windfall, right?”

“Yes, sir.” she replied quickly, not wanting to mess up in front of everyone;

“Aw,” he grinned. “She’s polite too.”

Across the room, Bombsight looked unimpressed and a little irritated, if one could tell by the scowl etched onto his face. And unfortunately for him, Soldier boy noticed it, an amused smile curling up his lips at the sight. 

“You been takin’ good care of her, Bombsight?” Soldier Boy asked casually while still looking at the woman in front of him.

Robbie crossed his arms, holding himself back from doing anything rash when he saw the way the other man interacted with Windfall, how he talked about her. “She ain’t a dog.”

“Touchy.”

It was obvious to everyone that the tension between them wasn’t anything new. It had been there for years but her presence seemed to fuel it. 

Soldier Boy finally released her hand but stayed standing slightly too close for both her liking and for Bombsight’s too. 

“You know,” he said lightly, “you’re prettier than your posters.”

Before she could even react to the flirty words, Robbie reacted instantly from across the room. “Jesus Christ.”

“What?” Soldier Boy asked innocently. “I’m bein’ friendly.”

“You’re bein’ a pain in my ass.”

At this, the other supe barked out a laugh. Yet, she could only focus on the man across the room as it dawned on her that he was jealous.

—

One evening, after another gala, she slipped away onto a balcony for air. She got used to it after her first one, months ago.

She felt more at ease, more comfortable in her own skin.

New York was beautiful from up here but the sight wasn't the reason why she escaped.

The reason why was already there, leaning against the railing with an unfinished cigarette between his fingers.

The wind was tugging at his blond strands that were usually brushed to perfection.

He looked tired tonight and his smirk wasn't good enough to hide it.

She moved beside him, leaning too against the railing and for a moment both stayed silent.

Then she looked at him, taking in his profile.

“You know,” she said softly, “I never liked Soldier Boy that much.”

That earned a snort from him as if he didn't believe her.

“That makes one of us.”

“No,” she corrected quietly. “I mean I never understood why everyone is gushing on him like he is the only supe, as if he doesn't have teammates.”

Silence settled once again between them but it wasn't an awkward one. It didn't need to be filled.

Bombsight slowly turned toward her and for the first time since she met him, since she got to know him, a vulnerable look crossed his face.

This time he knew that she was also truly seeing him too, just like he was seeing her since the beginning.