bottom ronaldo oneshots

🥀 in bloom

tw: oral, vaginal sex, boypssy, past rape/noncon, threats of rape/noncon

Cristiano basically flopped onto the bed as he arrived. So, this was his room. It was nice, white themed, of course, since that was Real's color. After standing up, he explored, greeting some old friends, and just trying to find his way to the kitchen. They had completely changed buildings from last season, which he had every nook and cranny of memorized, since he was staying there ever since he was at Sporting.

Maybe it was for the better that they changed— that house held some seriously bad memories. He just couldn't forget what the Atletico team did to him after he scored in the final or what the Barcelona players did to him, especially him, he sure as hell ruined Cristiano mentally.

Back to trying to find the kitchen, which was nearly impossible to find. It was a big place, after all, and he barely had any prior knowledge of the place. He bumps into someone who does seem to know where they're going.

"Luis?" his brows furrow, stepping away awkwardly, his ears ringing a little as he recognizes the face almost immediately. He really didn't want directions from him of all people.

"...Cristiano." the Uruguayan says, grabbing his hand. Cristiano flinched. "You never let me explain myself," he says quickly, tightening his grip, but to no avail, as Ronaldo pushes him away.

"You've had years to explain, now is when you want to?"

"No! No, that's not—" Luis's hand grabs his forearm, but this time Ronaldo can't pry himself free as Luis steps in closer, forcing him to back down. "Wait, just let me explain!" he says breathlessly, however Cristiano can't help that he's giving him the same look yet again. The one of manipulation. "Come here," he whispers, his warm breath grazing Cristiano's skin as the two of them stand alone in the hallway of this foreign place, not a single living soul to see.

"Get away from me," He growls. "I don't know what it is that you want from me, but you know I don't want you close after the incident."

"The incident?" Luis scoffs, letting go of him, the only evidence of his touch the goosebumps standing up on Ronaldo's skin. "Please. How long are you going to cling to this grudge? We can get past it together as two grown men."

"You're not going to let me have a real chance to say I'm sorry, are you?" Luis questions, his eyes narrowing into an irritated glare.

Cristiano's gaze darkens. "You have the balls to say that I can get over you raping me so easily, like it was a simple slap in the face? Are you serious, Luis!?"

Luis's breath turns shallow as his eyes flick away. His fists clench until the knuckles whiten. "We were two young men," he says defensively, his voice cracking. "You were asking for it, I thought—"

"Asking for it!?" He yells. "I was crying out for you to stop!"

"What's done is done," he says coldly, his hands balled into fists at his sides. "You can either get over it or you can keep holding on to it. But you have no right to hold something over my head that has no effect on our careers now, at least."

"Are you being serious!?" Cristiano scoffs.

"If you're still going to be like this..." Luis says exasperatedly.

"Like what?" Cristiano demands.

"Like a child, unwilling to accept forgiveness for a mistake," Luis says, his tone sharp and cold.

Cristiano huffs. "A mistake?"

"Yes," Luis whispers, his voice barely audible. "A mistake."

Cristiano eyes him sharply. "That's all it was to you? Just a mistake?"