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jockbroski34 · 4 months

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New Blood (Chapter 1)

This is my first TF story. I hope you enjoy and I have plenty of other ideas I've come up with for future stories.

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I would’ve been surprised if you told me how my first day at my new school turned out. My dad was transferred to a different branch at the job he worked at, so we were forced to move to a different state. I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t miss my old town, but it’s not like I was that close with most of the people I went to school with anyways. On the bright side, being transferred to a new high school gives me the chance to start fresh and make some new friends. Little did I know how right I really was.

The first day started out about as boring as you could imagine. The teachers reciting the syllabus, introducing ourselves to the class, the usual mundane activities expected for the first day. However, all of that changed during 3th period. It was algebra, and normally I could care less. But it wasn’t the class that caught my attention, hell no. Class started as usual. The class was packed full of students, with nearly every seat taken. About 3 minutes into the class, class was interrupted by an opened door and a large figure.

He must’ve been 6’3”, making me who is 5’10" look like someone who hadn’t hit his growth spurt in comparison. His brunette hair, short and spiked with the sides shaved, helped to accentuate his angular face and his alluring emerald green eyes. He wore a football shirt that fit snugly against his chest and his bulky biceps bulged out of the sleeves. His thick thighs made his jeans a tight fit. They could definitely crush a watermelon. Perhaps even my face, I thought, as I admired the handsome man.

“Sorry I was late, bro. Just got out late from my meeting with Coach”, the stud said, in a nonchalant, baritone voice. He sounded like your stereotypical jock.

“Don’t make this a regular thing, ‘bro’” our teacher grumbled. “I know you’re the team captain, but it doesn’t mean you can just barge in while I’m teaching.”

“Relax, dude. It’s just a one time thing.” he responded. Looks like he’s the big man on campus. He sure didn’t seem to care that he was late on the first day of school.

The giant scanned the room looking for a place to sit. First the right end of the room, then the middle, and then he looked towards the left, where I sat, and conveniently at the empty desk adjacent to me. For a split second, our eyes were staring right at each other, but my gaze veered the other direction out of embarrassment. The jock’s lips curved into a slight smirk as he began to walk into the rows of desks, accidentally bumping me with his massive size 15 foot.

“Sorry bro”, he said as he placed himself in the seat next to me. His nice round ass stood out to me as he made himself comfortable.

The class continued on as normal, but for some reason, I felt like I could concentrate even less than I could before. The beefcake next to me kept my mind preoccupied. He was the most attractive guy I’ve seen so far at this school, and I couldn’t help but be distracted by his perfect body. His toned body glistened, likely from the sweat of a morning jog, and I noticed a slight scent that affirmed that. I normally found the smell of sweat to be a little disgusting, but for him, it seemed to mix well with his natural aroma. The scent of a man.

“No. If a guy like him finds out that you’re gay, you’ll never hear the end of it,” I scolded myself in my head. I could already imagine myself being harassed by him and his meathead friends.

Strangely enough, just as I had been looking at him, I also felt like I was being watched as well. I must have been imagining things. I wouldn’t call myself unattractive, but I never caught the attention of other guys…let alone girls.

The teacher finished up with the material sooner than expected, so he stopped teaching for the rest of class until the bell rang. With about 10 minutes to spare before my next class, I reached into my pocket to grab my phone to kill time, but then I heard that same voice from before.

“Sup bro,” the hunk next to me greeted me. “I’ve never seen you before. You new here?”

This guy was talking to me. Wait, why was he talking to me? I was incredibly caught off guard, but I decided to play it cool and hide my embarrassment.

“Yeah, my name’s Jacob. My parents just moved into town the other week and now I’m here.”

“Damn, that sucks, but I hope you like it here. Nice to meet you Jacob. I’m Zach. You mind if I call you Jake for short?”

Most people called me by Jacob and I preferred it like that, but for him, I didn’t really mind.

“Sure, nice to meet you too,” I responded. He reached out his hand to shake mine, but my hand felt small engulfed in his meaty palms.

We spent the remaining time in class getting to know each other. The more I talked with Zach, the more I realized how we were basically complete opposites. He was as I expected, a stereotypical jock, only interested in sports and going to the gym and I was anything but that. I could tell through his attitude that he was full of confidence, maybe even bordering on arrogance, but he still seemed rather agreeable. Despite our obvious differences, we actually got along surprisingly well. I expected him to be some brute, some bully, but he was actually a pretty fun, chill guy. He actually gave me his number too. The bell rang and we both packed up our supplies into our backpacks.

“Hey man, so where’s your next class?” Zach asked.

“Room 214. Must be on the second floor,” I replied.

“Oh cool. I’m actually headed that way too. Don’t worry, I know this school like the back of my hand!”

We walked up the stairs to the second floor and down the hallway.

“Hey, so lunch is coming up and I don’t know if you have anywhere to sit yet,” Zach inquired.

I had completely forgotten about lunch. At my old school, it wasn’t uncommon for me to sit by myself. I was the kind of guy who didn’t really mesh well with any crowd and I had few close friends.

“I don’t, why?” I responded.

“I just figured that because you’re new, you might want somewhere to sit. You can come sit with us.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, the guys on the team are cool. I doubt they’d mind since you know me.” I imagined myself feeling out of place amongst the burly football jocks. Still, it was better than nothing.

“I might take you up on that offer,” I replied.

“Great, bro!” Zach smiled. His bright grin was contagious, and I felt a smile on my face as well. “I hope to see you there.” He patted me on the shoulder with his firm hands before we parted ways. Our classrooms, however, were conveniently right next to each other.

I felt like I could concentrate even less than I could during 3rd period. Thoughts of early US history blurred in my mind as the image of Zach lingered. Why was he being so nice to me of all people? Despite my curiosity, I started to think of him as a friend. For some reason, I felt myself drawn to him.

After an eternity, the bell rang for lunch, and I walked to the cafeteria. I got lost on the way there, as I was still unfamiliar with the layout of the building. As I walked past each table, I felt the impression that I was an outsider. Most tables were full of students, with few seats left open for me. It was like everyone else already knew each other, and that there was no place for me. Until I heard that voice again.

“Yo, Jake!” Zach shouted, his words breaking through the endless sea of mindless chatter. I turned my head to the right and saw him and several other members of the football team at a large table. How did I miss it? It’s a big table for big guys. “Did you get lost or something?”

“Yeah, kinda.”

“Sorry about that, bro. Come sit down!” He moved over, giving me room to squeeze in. He introduced me to the team, and it seems like he already told them about me, so they were eager to meet me. I recognized one person from my previous class.

“You’re…Bradley right?” I asked.

“Yeah, but call me Brad. No one except my brother calls me that anymore.” he answered. He wasn’t as tall as Zach, standing at a respectable and exact 6 feet tall. He was, however, a lot bulkier than Zach, who was more toned in comparison, but he wasn’t fat. His hair was shaved into a short blonde buzzcut and he had deep blue eyes. I recalled him falling asleep for a bit during last class. The bro must not have gotten enough sleep last night.

Zach, Brad, and the other guys talked about sports and working out after class, and other stuff that a stereotypical jock would talk about. I did my best to include myself in the conversation, but I felt kinda lost keeping up and I felt like a bit of a poser compared to them. I knew only basic level sports knowledge and I had never lifted a weight in my life. If only I was more like them.

Despite that, I actually got along with them better than I expected, and I was glad to know that they were more like Zach than I had anticipated. They did make fun of me for not knowing certain players or who won the game last night. However, I didn’t get the impression that it was malicious, but rather more playful, like how one would joke around with his bros. Even though I clearly looked and felt out of place, I found myself enjoying their company and I tried to absorb whatever knowledge the jocks discussed like a sponge. What felt like an entire day of hanging with the bros was only half an hour as the bell rang and the crowd of students emptied the cafeteria to depart for their next class. I said my farewells to Zach’s friends and made my way to my next class. Zach, instead of staying with his fellow teammates, pursued me and joined me, walking at my side.

“Hey, thanks for sitting with us, bro. I told you they’d like you.”

“Of course…” I replied, unsure of what to say, but I smiled. “I did feel like a fish out of water, but I did have a good time.”

“No worries, bro. I kinda figured you would feel out of place, but you did great. Give it time and I’m sure you’ll fit right in.” Zach smirked. “You just gotta get out of your comfort zone, man.”

“I guess I never thought of it like that,” I was surprised at Zach’s different perspective. “Maybe I could be as strong as the rest of you are and throw balls around someday,” I joked, as the idea of me being like one of them felt unrealistic to me.

Zach chuckled and gave me a wink. “Who knows? Life is full of surprises. Anyways, my class is this way, but I think we have the same class next period. Later, bro!”

The rest of the day went by quick, and was relatively uneventful. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, school was over, and I could finally go home. I thrusted myself into my bed, overwhelmed by my first day of school., but for once, I was actually kinda happy to be there. I met Zach, Brad, and a bunch of other guys on my very first day. Zach specifically lingered in my mind, and I recollected every inch of his body in my mind. I started to get hard picturing every exquisite detail, and I couldn’t help but bust my load to him. Eventually day turned to evening and evening turned to night, and I closed my eyes, wondering what the rest of the year had in store for me.

The next two weeks came and went and I became accustomed to the new school and my new friends. I went to class, ate with the football team at lunch, and I even started to hang out with Zach more. He offered to help me with the gym if I helped him with some of his schoolwork. I agreed obviously, as I wouldn’t mind building some muscle. It was always good to help a bro out and also I just wanted to be closer to him. As I helped him with math and science, he helped me with lifting weights and exercises. I struggled at first, but eventually I started to notice some improvements and I could tell he was proud.

Whenever we finished studying or working out, we spent the rest of the night watching sports or playing video games. Zach had to explain the rules to me, but I started to understand football on a surface level. Other than that, I got invited to a party at Brad’s place, and I had a great time partying and drinking with Zach and the football team. During those weeks, I was probably the happiest and most social I have ever been in my life.

The following week was when everything changed. One day before lunch, I was approached by someone who I have never seen before. He wasn’t very tall, standing at a modest 5’8”. He looked babyfaced with his nerdy, boyish looks and blonde hair, and his glasses helped to emphasize his meek blue eyes. I think he was a year below me.

“My name is Braden.” He said. “You’re the new kid who’s friends with Zach, right?”

“Yeah I am. My name’s Jake…I mean Jacob.” I responded. For a second, I found myself using the name Zach and the other jocks called me.

“I think you should stay away from him. He’s bad news.”

“What’s wrong with Zach?” I asked. Zach had been nothing but good to me since we met. I couldn’t imagine him having any malicious intent. He even took care of me at the party when I was black-out drunk for the first time.

“Ever since my brother started hanging out with him, he started acting… weird. He was never into football or anything, but now he’s on the team and he looks and acts like a completely different person.”

“I…What are you talking about?” I was seriously confused about what he meant.

“I’m serious! Unless you want to end up like just another jock…”

“Hey, Jake! How’s it going?” Zach cut in, seemingly oblivious to the fact that we were talking about him. “And you’re Brad’s brother, right?” Braden avoided eye contact with his brother’s friend.

I felt a sense of urgency, as I felt like I was going to be late. “I’ve gotta get to lunch. It was nice meeting you, Braden!” I said as me and Zach walked to lunch together. What the hell was his deal anyways?

“Braden’s a weird dude. Don’t worry about what he says,” Zach informed me, trying to ease the mood.

Later that week, I was hanging out at Zach’s place again after a workout, helping him with the algebra quiz that was next class. I helped him understand the concepts better and we wrapped up reviewing the study guide, so we finished and we laid down on his bed.

“Hey man, I’ve been thinking…” Zach started, but he sounded rather hesitant, unlike his usual confident self. “What would you think about joining the football team?”

“I…” I was honestly kinda surprised. Why would he want me, of all people, to join? I wasn’t unathletic, but even working out with him would not have prepared me to play football. “I’m flattered you would want me, but I don’t think I have what it takes. Plus, I’m not like you guys at all,” I answered.

“That’s fine, bro. Me and Coach can help condition you to become the jock I know you want to be.”

“Condition?” I was confused, unsure about what he meant by that.

“I know how much you want to be like us, bro,” For some reason, the word bro sent shivers down my spine. He had a devious look on his face. “And I can see your potential. That’s why I chose you. It helped that you’re the new kid anyways so no one will notice if you turned into another jock. I made that mistake with Brad and now that kid Braden won’t leave me alone.”

Zach paused, realizing that he said too much, but at this point, there was no going back. Despite his malicious intent, I got hard at the thought of being one of them, of being one with the team. My friends were always there for me the past few weeks and we had a strong bond despite our differences. I looked up to them, and wished I was more like them.

“That’s not the only reason I chose you…” Zach rolled over, climbing on top of me, his heavy, muscular body pinning me down, his legs straddled between mine, his sweat from the workout from earlier spreading through my nostrils. “I knew you were gay. I could just tell. But that’s okay, because so am I. You’re cute enough as you are now, but I think you would look better standing side-by-side with me, looking, thinking, and acting like me. Don’t you agree?”

I was overwhelmed by the situation, and by Zach’s sudden change in behavior. But I subconsciously nodded as my cock throbbed in my pants. Whether my mind or my dick was thinking first, I could not tell you.

“If you join the team, I’ll be yours, and you’ll be mine. How does that sound, bro?”

I tried to weigh my options. I thought about the kind of person I was. Who was I before I came here? Before I met Zach? I…I was nobody. I didn’t have any friends here. Zach took me in. My mind was fixated on the man in front of me. I realized I longed for him. I longed for the team and my bros. I longed for football. I longed for working out. And that’s when everything became clear. I longed to become a jock like him.

“That sounds awesome, bro,” I answered. Bro? I never said bro before. I guess Zach was really starting to rub off on me. I gave into temptation, but I knew that it was what I secretly desired ever since I met him.

“That’s a good bro…” Zach responded, obviously pleased with my answer. A seductive smirk lit up his face as he pressed his lips to mine. We enjoyed that moment for what felt like several lifetimes, but in reality it was actually only a few minutes of sweet passion. At this point, I felt like my cock was about to burst. At this point, I desired him. Zach noticed the raging bulge in my pants. “I know you wanna fuck, but I can’t give you what you want just yet. You will meet me in Coach’s office after class tomorrow. After we finish your transformation, then you can cum.”

“Yes, bro…” I muttered, keeping my erection under control. The rest of the evening was surprisingly normal between us, almost like the erotic scene that had just taken place was something out of a fever dream or a hallucination. We played some video games to kill time and to lighten the mood. The only reason I knew it was real was because of the firm erection that lingered in my pants. Eventually I said goodbye to Zach and went home.

“Remember to meet me after school. And just remember, you can still back out if you want…but I have a feeling you won’t,” Zach sneered, looking down at my pulsating serpent. Despite his words, however, I knew that my mind had already crossed the point of no return.

The next day was unbearable. The anticipation of what awaited me after this long day was killing me. What made it worse were the classes where I had Zach. He could tell that I was finding it hard to focus, and it felt like he was edging me with his mind. I could barely concentrate on the algebra quiz we studied for the night prior. I could only think about joining the football team and I imagined what it would be like to be a jock. I’d be big and strong, sexy, athletic. I would fit right in with all my bros. Working out together, practicing together, winning and celebrating together.

During lunch, Zach announced that I would be joining the team, and the group of football jocks cheered and welcomed me to the team. One of them said it was only a matter of time until I decided to join, and I couldn’t really deny it. I looked at each member of the team, and I wondered how I would look compared to them. For a second, I remembered Braden’s words, but I quickly shrugged them off. He made it seem like my transformation would be a bad thing, but a nerd like him could never understand. This is what I desired. This was what I was destined for. And I kept those words in my head, as the clock turned to the end of the school day.

As soon as the final bell rang, I immediately rushed over to the locker room. I saw Zach in his white and red football uniform, missing only his helmet, and, having never seen him in this outfit before, I thought he looked perfect in it. And soon, so would I.

“You’re here early, bro,” he said. “You’re even more eager than I expected. Coach isn’t here yet, but I can explain the details to you.”

He led me towards the back, where he pulled out several pieces of clothing that would become synonymous with my new identity. A jersey already stitched with my name on it, tight compression pants and a compression shirt, football cleats, shoulder pads, a jockstrap, and a sturdy helmet that would adorn my head like a king would wear his crown.

“Put it on.”

I complied. I was a little disappointed at first, as the clothing looked at least a size above what I would normally wear. “No worries, you’ll grow into them quick, trust me.”

As I put on my new uniform, I started to become curious. What was this all about? So I asked him, “What’s the point of all of this anyways?”

“I guess there’s no reason to hide it anymore,” he responded. “To be honest, I was kinda like you once. I wasn’t really athletic like I am now, but my dad was actually a professional football player. He was forced to retire early due to a bad injury, but despite that, I wanted to do what he couldn’t. But no matter how hard I tried, I could never be the player I wanted to be. That all changed when Coach learned of my struggles and we worked together to make me into the football jock I had always dreamed of. Eventually, after about a year of testing, we found a way and that’s how I became who I am now. For once, I was strong, athletic, and confident, and it never felt forced or fake. Like this was who I really was all my life. Since then, similar studies were done at different high schools and colleges across the US. You wouldn’t know about any of that, because it’s all behind closed doors. Eventually, I found you and I realized that you were probably just as lost as I was, so I kinda took advantage of that. Sorry, I guess I’m not the kind of guy you thought I was.”

I had no idea that’s how Zach truly felt. I sympathized with him despite him hiding so much from me. We came from different backgrounds, but we both wanted the same thing. To be better, and to be stronger. Even after he poured his heart out to me and told me the truth, he was still Zach to me. I cared for him and he cared for me. He opened my eyes to a new world full of different possibilities. And so, I pushed my lips into his and our tongues wrestled for dominance. We were stopped by footsteps approaching. We returned to normal as Coach walked into the room, oblivious to the fact that we were making out seconds prior outside of our rosy cheeks.

“So you’re the kid Zach’s been talking about. I’m Coach Myers.” the man said. “I’m guessing he told you everything. Do you have any questions before we get started?”

“No sir,” I answered.

“In that case, let’s go into my office.” I obliged eagerly. There’s no going back. “Have a seat, sign these forms, and put these on.” They were earbuds. I signed my name on every form, formally granting my consent to join the team, and likely whatever changes would occur to me. In front of me was an old TV with a VCR. “You will watch and listen to this video for the full duration. You will notice some changes and you might feel a little uncomfortable. All you have to do is relax and focus on the video.” I did as he said. I sat down in my new football uniform, and I put the earbuds in both ears, and then finally put my helmet onto my head. With everything prepared, Zach turned off the lights, and the TV turned on, playing a video.

With the helmet over my head, my peripheral vision was restricted. I had little choice but to look at what was directly in front of me. My eyes became fixated on the screen in front of me as they became entranced by the flowing spiral. As I fell deeper into a trance, I felt as though my mind and body were on the opposite ends of the world. The audio was hard to make out, but somehow I felt like I understood it, at least subconsciously.

After a period of time that my mind couldn’t possibly comprehend, the imagery began to change. I started to make out clips of football players, playing football, being part of a team, throwing and catching the ball, tackling my opponents, strategies and plays. I learned the proper workouts and techniques and exercises that a football player would do. What at one time felt foreign to me felt like common knowledge, like I had done this my entire life. It was muscle memory, no pun intended.

It was at this moment that my body started to change. No. Change isn’t the right word. Evolve. I noticed my average-sized arms start to bulge, my biceps and triceps inflating like they were being pumped. Next, my shoulders expanded and became more sturdy, making my shoulder pads fit a little better. Then, my chest pumped out, my pecs eager to fill the empty space in my oversized jersey along with my new six-pack. Following that, my legs thickened until they felt tight in my compression pants, and my ass inflated like a balloon into a nice, round bubble butt. Below that, my feet grew longer and more wide, filling the size 15 shoes that my formerly size 11 feet would have had trouble walking around in. My penis, still erect, grew from an average 5 inches to an impressive 8 inches, feeling more and more aroused by the increasing stimulation and the surplus of testosterone flowing through my body. Finally, I felt my blonde medium length hair thin and become more like my teammates with shaved sides and a short top. Any chubbiness in my face disappeared as my facial features sharpened, especially my jawline and my chin, giving myself a more masculine look.

While all of this was happening, my mind was swirling and every part of me was being drained or replaced. I found that I was losing interest in most of my old hobbies, but the idea of playing and watching sports, working out, partying, having sex, and hanging out with the bros felt so much more enticing and appealing than it did before. I started to realize that I didn’t really care much about school or learning anymore, and that playing sports was the only real reason why I came to school. I was never the best student, but I always did my best. However, I realized that none of that mattered as long as I kept good enough grades to stay on the team. C’s get degrees, am I right? At worst, I could always bribe one of the smarter kids to do my homework for me.

Then, my mindset began to change. Before, I was introverted, polite, and humble. But now? I was outgoing, confident, and cocky, and I started to love the idea of that. It started to become unbelievable that I was ever not like this. I was always like this. As the changes in my mind were taking effect, I felt part of me overwhelmed by all the changes and trying to resist, but that stray thought was snuffed out like a candle, as the rest of my thoughts were drained from my mind. Any part of my former self’s mind was absorbed into my balls, which were swollen to the size of grapefruit at this point. As the changes in my body and mind reached its climax, so did my aching cock. As the video concluded, the words became more clear, and I could make out one phrase repeating over and over.

“You are a jock.”

It was at this point that I could finally release all my pent-up frustration from the past 24 hours. It was the best orgasm of my life. And just like that, load after load of my burning, sticky cum flooded my jockstrap, and with it, the memories of the old me were released from my body.

“Looks like someone made a mess,” Zach teased. “No worries, bro. It happens. How do you feel?” he asked as he put his arm around my shoulder. This time it felt different though, because I truly felt like one of the bros.

Jacob was gone. Jake took his place. I’m Jake, Jake the jock. My memories felt distorted but they were starting to become clear. I grew up always with a ball in my hand. I was naturally talented in any sport I played, but I gravitated towards football. I played it at my old school and I was among the best on the team. However, my dad got a new job and we were forced to move here. Thankfully, we were fortunate to live near a school with a gifted football program. I became friends with Zach and the football team, and naturally, I signed up for the team. And Zach? He was not just my bro or my best friend. He eventually became my boyfriend and the rest of the team supported our relationship. All of this felt so real to me, and a cocky smirk appeared on my unfamiliar face.

“Bro…I feel awesome,” I responded, my new, deeper voice matching both my new physique and personality. I looked down at my new body. It was like I hit puberty for the second time. I stood up, realizing that I was now several inches taller, now standing at a solid 6’2”. I was almost as tall as Zach, and I didn’t have to look up at him now. I felt like we were finally equals in terms of body and status.

“I told you you’d look amazing, bro,” he said as he gave me a peck on the cheek. “You should clean yourself up and get ready for practice. The other guys will never let it go if you come to your first practice with cum staining your uniform. Oh, and thanks Coach. Glad you could help both of us out.”

“Always glad to help out my star player,” Coach chuckled. “As for you, I think you turned out better than any of them yet. You might even give Zach a run for his money.” I felt a sense of pride being compared to him.

I quickly left Coach’s office and cleaned myself off. I changed into clothes that Zach lent me that would fit my new body better, and ran off to practice. Before that though, I stared at myself in the mirror so I could get my first glimpse of the new me. The person in front of me was completely unrecognizable to me, but I quickly grew comfortable with the jock in the mirror and I smiled at the person I had become. I pulled out my phone and took a picture of the flexing hunk that stood before me.

Time passed and my new life became more and more normal to me. I would go to school, hang out with the football team, go to practice, work out, and then hang out with Zach. It became a natural routine to me, and I was never happier. My grades dropped a bit because I was focused on football. It’s not that I can’t care about learning. I just don’t want to. Coach says it’s alright as long as I pass my classes.

For the first time, I felt a true sense of camaraderie with a group of guys, and especially Zach. It felt like we were joined at the hip. We were a pair both on the field and off it. We’re currently undefeated this year and I think we might even reach regionals.

Most of my classmates and peers barely noticed my changes since I was already new and to them, I blended in as yet another stereotypical football jock. The only people with an immediate reaction were my parents. They were a little surprised by my sudden changes, but they were supportive of my new passion for football and they were glad to see me making friends and staying active. I did remember one person who definitely would mind my changes.

Braden.

A week or so after my transformation, he walked up to me, obviously disappointed, with a look of shame on his face, and told me that I should’ve listened to him. I brushed aside his comments. He called me a dumb jock. I told him I was happier this way, but he refused to believe me. He wouldn’t accept it. He said that he was going to expose the football team somehow, and change everyone who was affected back, including me and Brad. He stormed off, hoping to find some way to expose us.

I didn’t show it on my face, but in my mind I was furious. I genuinely didn’t want to turn back and I didn’t want the football team to be suspended or shut down. I thought about Zach, about his dreams, and about mine. I wanted nothing more than for the two of us to live out our dreams together of being the best football jocks ever. I couldn’t let Braden figure out the truth. I have to stop him. I started to brainstorm ideas on how to keep him quiet.

A devious idea entered my mind. He wouldn’t want to snitch on us if we turned him into a jock first. He was obviously a little envious of me, of Zach, even his big brother. I’m sure he would grow to appreciate the idea if he just accepted it. Besides, I’m sure he would make a sexy football jock with his looks already. The idea of turning someone into a jock, corrupting them, awakening their true desires became so appealing to me, just like Zach had did for me. He’ll understand one day.

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matrixbearer2024 · 2 months

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not a request but i just wanna get an idea that i absolutely MUST get out of my brain before it consumes my entire being. So, your “get off my screen series”. You know that trend where ppl put that one vox vid of his face on their tv and put like hus hat and/or body attached to the tv. Imagine vox somehow finds a way to do that and y/n just does this.

THATS IT LMAO ABSOLUTELY LOVE AND ADORE YOUR SERIES. ANYTIME I SEE IT’S UPDATED IT MAKES MY DAY<3

TikTok Trending, Posts and Memes

Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader

A/N: With how many ideas you guys have at this point I might just continue to write short scenarios for this AU with all the ideas you guys are giving me- it's absolutely amazing seeing what y'all come up with and I'm just living for it hahahaha! Thank you guys so much!

The week you had was... interesting to say the least.

Vox had challenged you to at least take up basic programming, claiming you were too impatient to learn.

So you, being the persistent and stubborn you-

Decided to prove him wrong.

Besides, it can't be that bad if he knows how to do it.

You wouldn't tell him because it'd probably make him butthurt-

But you were sure Vox was 1000% more impatient than you.

You took up computer science for extra credit, quickly learning the ins and outs of basic coding.

It was just a world of syntax and numbers but you definitely found it fun.

And useful too-

Especially when you wanted to explicitly screw with others.

Vox may or may not have slightly taught you how to hack.

But you weren't using it for anything bad!

Just to change the final grade of some asshole students so they'd have to repeat the class.

That's what they get for just randomly tripping you in the hall the other day.

Vox was slightly proud but also kind of concerned-

You'd definitely end up where he was at this rate.

Thankfully though, you decided not to do anything too crazy since.

Instead you've been messing around on your devices alongside the tech overlord.

From practicing how to send him encrypted messages-

To straight up just shitposting all over his monitors.

It's not so fun now is it Voxxy?

You would sometimes try to transfer him around to other devices that weren't your own to see if he could actually do anything.

Well, he could- but it only worked if he was directly connected to it.

Meaning he had to be plugged in.

How he was able to connect to all your devices wirelessly without limitation?

Neither of you had a clue.

You both first tested it on your best friend's phone, only for Vox to immediately go back to your computer and blow up your notifications.

"Nope nope nope nope, that's the last time I let you plug me into some random fucking phone-"

"What?? What happened??? And it's not random, it's (Friend Name)'s Phone."

"Dollface, you know Valentino right? The one I told you about?"

"The pornstar? What about?"

You didn't exactly like where this conversation was going.

You had an inkling where it would end and you were already cringing.

"Yeeaaaah, I've known him for quite some time so I would think I've seen nearly everything."

"Get to the point Vox-"

"And yet I am somehow utterly disgusted by your friend's search history."

"Yeah, uh... I'd rather you don't tell me."

"I figured. Though it makes me curious about what yours looks like."

That gave you pause, given how Vox had practically invaded your entire computer-

Hell, he even gave your files a new sorting system-

You were surprised he hadn't gone through your search history.

Of all the things you'd think that was what he'd ransack first.

"You haven't checked my search history yet?"

"Why would I? It's not like I'm trying to find your secret porn stash or something."

"Bruh, why would I even have that."

"Your friend had one, I just guessed."

"Touché."

You were a little touched that Vox cared about you enough not to really dig into your secrets.

Or well, the things you wanted to keep secret.

For a big bad overlord, he was kind of a sweetheart.

"Okay now I definitely wanna see what you've got hidden in there-"

"FUCK OFF YOU STUPID OLD PICTUREBOX-"

"YOU CAN'T STOP ME BITCH-"

You know what, you retracted your previous statement.

He's a fucking jerk.

Vox quickly dug through your search history while the tiny desktop companion in his likeness refused to give you control over the cursor.

You couldn't stop him even if you tried.

His phone blew up from notifications with you cursing at him or just calling him names.

He just laughed at your dismay and continued to dig through.

Okay- wow.

While he didn't initially expect it from you, Vox reckoned he probably should've.

Much like how people had celebrity crushes, he figured you would have your own.

It just so happened that it wasn't a celebrity and it was a fictional character instead.

He kind of felt like someone slapped him in the face actually, even if he didn't know why.

"Soooooo- (Favorite Character Name) huh?"

"Shaddup-"

"This? This is your type???"

"IT'S A FICTIONAL CRUSH GET OVER IT-"

While you were practically steaming from the ears in embarrassment, Vox was just laughing and dealing with his mixed feelings.

On one hand, he found your reactions absolutely entertaining and hilarious.

On the other hand, he didn't even know who or what this character was and he already disliked them.

Just a gut feeling.

He continued to tease you for it though, bringing up more cringe parts of your search history much to your chagrin.

It wasn't really anything bad that you couldn't take, it was just so embarrassing that you'd rather he didn't dig any of it up.

So in the heat of the moment, wanting to get Vox off your computer- you plugged it into the only other active device he wasn't connected.

Your TV.

It was nearly instant, he went from teasing and texting to you to a befuddled face on the larger screen.

But what was more surprising, was he could actually see you this time.

It wasn't filtered over with static like when he'd first met you.

The live feed even had audio, which was just entirely unexpected too.

Who knew, plug a TV demon into his specific medium and he could actually operate properly?

But that's how you guys ended up figuring out how to connect his digital presence to your TV.

By entire surprise and from just fucking around.

"Oh my god that worked-"

"(Y/N)? Holy hell! I can actually see you!"

"I did not think that would work-"

"Wow, are you really that short or is your TV just perched up that high?"

You just flipped him the bird and Vox laughed at you again.

Though, you couldn't help but smile because of it.

Well, at least now he could converse with you "properly" like he'd wanted to for a while.

Even if it did mean he'd need to take up your entire TV.

"Oh- OH WAIT- I've got an idea!"

Vox couldn't even question what you were doing before you ran out of the room and out of his sight.

So while waiting, he took a gander at the room you left him in.

It became abundantly clear that this was your living space too.

From the colors to the patterns, Vox smiled fondly as he recalled your old conversations where you would just tell him things about the things you liked.

Yeah, he could definitely see your touch in how the room was designed.

He raised an eyebrow when you giddily came back into the room with some colored paper, scissors and tape.

What-?

"Okay Doll, just what are you planning?"

"You'll see~!"

Your excitement kept him curious.

What were you drawing over there?

Weird timing for an arts and crafts project if you asked him.

It was only until you approached him and taped something to the screen did he actually grow confused.

He couldn't see what you did despite you doubling over in laughter.

What could've possibly been so funny that had you keeling from it?

By the time you could finally look at Vox without laughing your ass off, you used your phone to take a picture of how he looked.

Approaching the TV to show him just so he could see the photo as well.

Ah.

So that's what you found so funny.

You'd fashioned his outfit-

Poorly made but still recognizable-

Out of paper and taped it to the screen.

His hat on top and his suit dangling off the bottom.

Admittedly, it looked downright silly.

Especially with the proportions being so off thanks to the size of the TV screen.

"Haha, very funny (Y/N). Very funny."

"I'm making this shit my wallpaper, you look so goofy."

Vox just playfully rolled his eyes at you with a smile.

If that was seriously all it took to make you laugh?

He'd do it again no questions asked.

Taking a peek at his internal clock though, he held back his disappointment that he had to leave when you were on such an elated high.

"Sorry to cut this short doll, but I need to disconnect. I've got a meeting in a few minutes."

"Hm? Then go and do what you need to do, I can always just plug you back in later. Good luck!"

The overlord chuckled when you raised a hand to pat the screen, he couldn't feel it but he wished he did.

"I don't need luck, but... thanks. See you."

"See you."

And just like that the screen fizzled out and returned to the smart TV homepage.

You'd sent the picture to Vox through your chats and he replied with a TV emoticon.

You giggled, course he would do that.

At least he didn't take offense to what you did-

Despite your poor art skills-

Maybe he found it as entertaining as you did?

Whatever, you switched the wallpaper on your phone to the new photo you had of Vox and laughed.

His confused expression really sealed the deal with how silly the picture was.

But imagine your surprise come morning when you realized he didn't switch the wallpaper back to his trademark grin.

You sort of expected him to, especially given that he'd done so with all your past attempts to change your wallpaper.

The fact he left it alone made you smile.

And as the day began and Vox left you a morning greeting-

You just shot him one back and got up to prepare for the day.

You figured the day would be just fine.

Yeah, you guys would be just fine.

A/N: Ooough this was a long one but I had a lot of fun writing it! I'll post the masterlist afterwards when I grab all the links to the posts and I'll just be continuing the other interludes before I post the chapter with Reader's death. Either way, I hope you guys enjoyed this one!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin vox x reader #vox x you #Get Off My Screen Series

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krirebr · 3 months

Text

Caught Up in Your Trap

Pairing: dark!Andy Barber x f!reader

Word Count: 5.4k

Summary: You spend your first day in your new home. Part of the Trapped AU.

Warnings: Dark elements, kidnapping, human trafficking, drugging, training, punishment, isolation, injury, forced intimacy - Just trust me when I say that this is dark. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

A/N: Oh my god, you guys. Uh, happy sin day, I guess?? 🤣 Because I am apparently incapable of just leaving a one-shot alone, this is a prequel to I Don't Want a Lot for Christmas spurred by some unhinged 4 AM thots. It is definitely the darkest thing I've written so far. Whoops.

Big thanks as always to @paperweight91 who was not only the fantastic sounding board she always is, and let me ramble on about all my research into furnaces of all things but also helped me figure out the title for both this fic and the greater AU it's now a part of (🤦🏻‍♀️ Seriously, Kris, just stop!). Hat tip to Bruce Springsteen for both, as well. I'm sure he'd be thrilled. 😂

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screeching at me. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

Andy pulled up at the address he’d been given, more surprised than he should have been that it was an abandoned warehouse. Of course, this sort of deal would be completed there. He should have known from the sorts of channels he’d had to go through to set it up. Connections left over from his days in the DA’s office. Well, that wasn’t the side of the law he was on anymore.

He walked into the large open space that made up most of the building to find a man standing in the middle of a few folding chairs. He had a neatly trimmed mustache and was wearing sharp but tight clothing. He wasn’t who caught Andy’s attention, though. No, that was you, slumped over in one of the chairs, wearing the clothes you must have been taken in. Even like this, he could tell your pictures hadn’t done you justice. You were absolutely perfect. Or you would be, once he was done.

“Barber!” the man called out, a satisfied smirk raising his mustache. “How nice of you to join us!”

“Hansen,” Andy answered evenly. He nodded at you, “She ok?”

“Oh, she’s fine. Just on enough horse tranqs to move her across the country without her realizing it. She’ll only be out for another day or so.”

Andy walked over to you. “I’m sure you don’t mind if I check for myself. With the amount of money I’m paying you.” Hansen gestured for him to go ahead, so he placed a gentle hand on the pulse in your neck, pleased to feel that it was strong and steady. He took a step back and opened the untraceable banking app on his phone. He clicked the transfer button, moving an ungodly amount of money from his numbered account in the Caymans to the account Lloyd had given him. “Alright,” he said, “the money’s in your account.”

The other man snapped his fingers and someone appeared out of the shadows, holding a tablet. “And I’m sure you don’t mind,” Hansen said as the new man tapped his screen, “if I check for myself. With the amount of work I’ve done for you.”

They all waited in tense silence for the confirmation of the transfer to come through. Andy couldn’t take his eyes off you, eager to finally get you home. After everything he’d been through, this was what he deserved. The perfect wife, the perfect family, the perfect life. And he was going to do it right this time, taking full control until he had exactly what he wanted. Nothing left to chance. It was costing him a pretty penny, but it was worth it.

The man with the tablet nodded at Hansen, who clapped his hands together. “Alright!” he said. “Let’s get this done. My men will get her settled in your car while we finish up.” Two more men came out from the edge of the room and started to put their hands on you. Andy couldn’t help the growl that came out of him. Hansen laughed. “Don’t worry, Mr. ADA, they won’t hurt your precious new wife. You have my word.”

Andy gave a hesitant nod, as they carried you out of the warehouse, clicking the unlock button on his car fob so that they could get you settled. He didn’t take his eyes off you until you were gone.

Hansen reached down and picked up a thick folder. “Everything you’ll need is in here. Everything for her new identity, all in order, all immaculate. Marriage license. Anything from her old life you might need. Although I’d get what you need from those quickly and then burn them.”

Andy took the folder and briefly paged through it. New birth certificate, social security card, IDs, passport. Everything he’d need to start your new life. He put the folder in his briefcase. “Thank you. Anything else?”

Hansen smirked again. “Eager to get started?” He leered in the direction you’d disappeared. “Can’t say I blame you.”

Andy cleared his throat, not appreciating the way Hansen was talking about what was his. “Yes, I would like to get us both home. Are we done here?”

“Sure sure. You have a good time now,” he smirked.

Andy gave him a curt nod and then exited in the direction Hansen’s men had taken you. There was no sign of them by his car, but you were laid out across the backseat. He opened the door and leaned in to brush a gentle finger across your cheek. He wouldn’t be able to relax until you were secured inside his home. It was so close now.

This wasn’t your room. You’d woken up some time ago (you couldn’t say how long ago exactly. There were no clocks, no windows) in the most comfortable bed you’d ever felt. You thought it might swallow you up, it was so soft. Luxurious. The whole room was that way. Beautiful. Rich. You were dressed in a satin nightgown that wasn’t at all like anything you owned. You tried very hard not to think about the fact that someone must have changed you. The door was locked from the outside, a small keypad right under the doorknob. You tried banging on the door. Yelling for someone. Nothing. A quick exploration of the room hadn’t yielded anything either – the two other doors were also locked, a dresser held only men’s clothing. So you’d spent the last who knows how long just laying in the bed, trying not to panic or cry. You weren’t very successful at either.

The most disturbing thing you’d discovered since you’d woken up here was the set of rings on your left hand. One featured a large diamond, the other was a simpler band filled with comparatively tiny diamonds. The bands were fused together like you remembered your mom’s engagement and wedding rings being. It took a long time to normalize your breathing after that discovery.

Just as you were about to drift asleep again, for want of anything else to do, you heard a few soft beeps, the lock click, and the doorknob move. You leaped up and huddled in the far corner of the room between the wall and the bed, holding a pillow in front of you. There was nothing else in the room to use to defend yourself. Even the lamps were bolted down – you’d checked.

The door slowly opened and a man walked in. He was tall, over 6 feet, and broad. He had dark, soft-looking hair, and a well-kept beard. He wore a gray cotton tee and jeans. If your adrenaline hadn’t been spiking, you would have found him so handsome. But as it was, you pushed yourself further into the corner.

He was carrying a tray, which he set down on one of the nightstands. From your vantage point, you could see a glass of water and a bowl. You weren’t feeling inclined to take anything from this man.

Your eyes cautiously tracked him as he came around to the foot of the bed. “How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice deep but gentle.

You didn’t say anything, just kept watching him. He leveled you with a stern look that sent a chill down your spine. His voice was much more rigid when he said, “I expect an answer when I ask a question, sweetheart.”

You ignored him again, instead asking, “Who are you?”

He took a deep breath, flexing both hands. Extreme irritation passed over his face before it was replaced with a practiced calm. He sat at the foot of the bed and patted the space next to him. “Come sit,” he said. You didn’t move. “Now,” he growled. Something in his tone made it clear, not only that he would move you himself if he had to, but even more so, that you didn’t want it to come to that. You got up and sat on the far edge of the bed. He reached over and grabbed your arm hard, dragging you into his side. You cried out but he shushed you. “Alright,” he said, “I will answer your question once you answer mine. How are you feeling?”

This was the most scared you’d ever been. You had to take a few deep breaths before you were able to say. “I have a headache and I’m a little nauseous. And I’m very scared.”

He gently took your hand in his and cooed at you. “That’d be the drugs they used to knock you out. You’ll feel better when they’re completely out of your system. Eating will help. You can have some soup once we’re done talking.” He paused, for what you didn’t know. You didn’t say anything. He smiled. “You can ask your question now. Good girl waiting for permission.”

Your head swung to look at him. That hadn’t been what you were doing. Had it? You were woozy and scared and just trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. That was most important, so you let his comment go and repeated your question. “Who are you?”

He squeezed your hand. “I’m your husband, sweetheart. My name is Andy.”

That was the answer you’d been terrified of since you’d seen the rings on your finger. He was fucking crazy. He had to be. The best you could do right now was to get as much information out of him as you could. “And where are we? Is this your house?” You were trying to keep your voice steady, but you could hear the tremor in it.

“This is our house, sweetheart. Just outside Boston.”

Your eyes widened and your heart rate picked up in panic. “Boston?? No– That’s– How did I get here?!” This was even worse than you thought. You were nowhere near home, nowhere near anything familiar.

He just looked at you for a moment with narrowed eyes. Then he nodded and said, “Ok, I’m going to be honest and explain it to you, because I think it will help you understand your place here. But in the future, you need to know that I don’t appreciate having to explain myself. Good wives don’t question their husband's actions. Now, since I’m going out of my way to make this clear for you, I expect you to sit quietly and listen. Can you do that for me?”

You clenched your hands into fists, wanting to rage at him for how he was speaking to you like a child, but you knew you needed this information. You needed everything you could get if you were going to get out of here, so you tried to control your breathing and nodded.

He looked at you like he wanted to scold you for something, but then visibly changed his mind and began. “I’ve had a hard life, the last few years especially, I’ve been through a lot. Things haven’t turned out the way they were supposed to. I wanted a family. I thought I had one, but– It wasn’t how it was supposed to be, and then I lost even that. I wanted to try again, but I couldn’t put in all that effort without a guarantee that I wouldn’t wind up with nothing again.

“I’m a lawyer. I used to work as an ADA and now I’m in defense. In both jobs, I’ve made a lot of connections with people from different walks of life. Through that, I found a man who provides a service – if you let him know what you’re looking for, he’ll find you a person who fills those needs. So I told him that I was looking for someone to build a family with, a good wife. He presented me with a few options, and I chose you. For a hefty price, his men picked you up and brought you here. They also put together all new paperwork for you, a whole new identity. The old you doesn’t exist anymore, do you understand? You’re Mrs. Barber now, property of your husband. I bought and paid for you. I own you, every part of you.”

You saw his hand start to move toward your thigh and you jumped up, quickly pressing yourself against the wall. You just stared at him for a moment and then the panic truly hit you, but this time, it was accompanied by blinding anger. “That’s human trafficking, you complete fucking psycho! The fuck is wrong with you?!” Once you’d started screaming, you couldn’t stop. “You can’t just buy a wife, you fucking cuck! I’m a person! People are going to look for me!” He stood up and came at you and you swung out with your fists, your nails, your knees, whatever you fucking could. You connected a few times, drew a grunt from him before he somehow pinned your wrists behind your back. You screamed as loud as you could, but it did nothing.

He frog-marched you out of the room as he said, “I was hoping we wouldn’t have to do this so soon, but you need a timeout, honey. Some time to calm down in the quiet room, and then we can try again and go over the rules. You just need some time to think by yourself.”

You tried to pay attention as he pushed you through what looked like a little apartment: a living room, a kitchenette. He stopped at an innocuous-looking door with a keypad on it, just like the one in the bedroom. He turned you away so you couldn’t see as he entered the code, one hand still keeping your wrists in a bruising grip. Before you’d even realized he’d opened the door, he was shoving you into the room so hard you briefly left the ground. The door slammed shut behind you. You hit the floor hard and groaned. You stumbled up onto your hands and knees. You heard another beep, then the grinding of a lock. Then nothing.

The room was pitch black. You weren’t even sure where the door was now, as there wasn’t any light coming through the cracks. You crawled around, trying to get an idea of the space. It was small and empty as far as you could tell. But there was a low rumbling noise that seemed to fill the room. You couldn’t pinpoint the source just from listening, it felt like it was coming from everywhere. The floor under your hands was bare, concrete. Your hands brushed through cobwebs and other detritus you couldn’t see. You cautiously held a hand out as you continued to try to map out the room, terrified you’d smack your face right into the wall. It made contact with something hot and sharp. You pulled it back with a hiss, pain radiating through your palm. You felt the first few wet drops. Shit. You were bleeding. You’d cut yourself. Fuck. “Hey!” you called out as loud as you could. There was no answer. “Hey!” you tried again, “I’m hurt! I’m bleeding!” No response. “WHAT THE FUCK?” You were screaming now. “YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! LET ME OUT!” Nothing. God, this room was already lightproof, maybe it was soundproof, too. He wouldn’t be able to hear you, wouldn’t know you were hurt. You couldn’t tell how badly you’d cut your hand so you raised it above your head, hoping that might at least slow down the bleeding. It was dirty you were sure. God, how long did it take for cuts to get infected? You hoped you wouldn’t find out. You didn’t even know what you’d cut it on. What if it was rusty? Shit, when was your last tetanus booster? You couldn’t remember exactly. Fuck. You really didn’t want to die from tetanus in some random basement in Massachusetts. A tear rolled down your cheek. He couldn’t leave you in here too long, could he? No. He would come get you soon.

You had no idea how long you’d been sitting in the dark, your knees pulled up to your chest, one arm wrapped around them, the other still held in the air. Your shoulder was so sore, but you were too worried to lower your hand. You wished you could see the cut, know exactly how bad it was. You wished you knew how much time had passed. With no frame of reference, no external indicators, you were afraid you’d lost the ability to tell the difference between hours and minutes. It’d been hours. It had to have been hours. How long was he going to leave you here? He had to come back soon. He had to. You took some perverse comfort in the fact that he’d spent a lot of money on you. That had to mean that he wouldn’t just leave you here. He’d want a return on his investment. You tried to ignore the chills that thought gave you.

You’d been crying on and off. It made you feel pathetic but what else were you supposed to do? The panic, too, ebbed and flowed. You’d been trying to keep your breathing even, trying to ignore how small the space was, how dirty, how dark. Deep breaths in through your nose and out through your mouth. It wasn’t doing much to calm you, but at least it gave you something to focus on.

Just as a fresh wave of tears overtook you, a blinding light came in, directly opposite you. You squinted and raised your uninjured hand in front of your eyes, but that didn’t do much to help.

“Oh sweetheart,” Andy’s voice cooed, before gently lifting you by your arms and herding you out. He half-carried you through the finished part of the basement while your eyes continued to adjust. Before you knew it, you were back in the bedroom you’d started in. He gently sat you down on the edge of the bed and crouched in front of you. You felt dazed. The room was too bright. You didn’t know how you could keep breaking the record for the most scared you’d ever been. There had to be a ceiling, a limit. You’d hit it soon, wouldn’t you?

You still had your hand raised and cradled to your chest. Andy touched your wrist and you flinched. He raised an eyebrow in question and you whispered, “I got hurt.” He sighed and gently tugged at your wrist again. This time you let him guide your arm down, moving your hand so you both could see it. It was a little grimy and definitely red, slightly swollen maybe. There was a little dried blood, but not much. The cut was so much more shallow than you’d imagined when you were trapped in that room alone. You felt incredibly foolish. You’d thought you were going to lose your hand over a glorified paper cut.

Andy carefully moved his thumb over a raised patch under the cut that you now realized was a minor burn. “Did you touch the furnace?” The furnace – that’s what’d been making that noise. That’s what you’d cut yourself on. That’s where he’d thrown you. What the fuck? You were lucky you hadn’t hurt yourself even worse. You looked up from your hand to see him frowning at you. “Why would you do that? Sweetheart, you have to be more careful. That was a very stupid thing to do.” He got up and walked into the ensuite, opening a cabinet under the sink.

Was he seriously scolding you for getting hurt in a dangerous room he’d locked you in?? The rage from earlier was starting to return, but it was still tempered by your fear. You did your best to keep your voice even when you replied, “It was completely dark in there. I couldn’t see anything.” A little growl came through your words, but it wasn’t anything compared to what you were actually feeling.

He came back holding a small first-aid kit. “Well then that’s a good reason to keep your hands to yourself, isn’t it?” He sat down and opened the kit, pulling out a few wipes and beginning to somewhat roughly clean your hand. “Sweetheart, I’m here to take care of you. That’s my job as your husband. But I need you to be a good girl and not put yourself in harm’s way.”

“You threw me in there!” you said, your voice starting to get louder, despite your best efforts to keep calm.

“Because you were bad and needed a time-out!” he yelled back at you. He threw the dirty wipes into the trashcan beside the bed and took a deep breath, visibly calming himself. He grabbed an ointment from the kit and began applying it to your hand. “That’s why we’re going to talk about rules now. They’re there to keep you safe and both of us happy. When you don’t follow them, something like this can happen.”

You didn’t say anything. You had to be smart if you were ever going to get out of here and antagonizing him wasn’t smart. He didn’t seem to expect a response anyway as he just silently placed a bandage on your hand and then got up and put the kit away. He came back and sat right next to you, turning so he could look into your eyes. You tried to turn your head away, but he grabbed your chin and forced eye contact.

“Alright,” he said, his tone already so fucking patronizing. “A good thing that came out of your little tantrum is that now we know the areas we need to focus on most for improvement – manners, respect, and attitude. I did some thinking during your quiet time too, and I’ve adjusted your training schedule to focus on these things. It’ll be good for both of us.”

What the actual fucking fuck? “Training schedule?” was all you managed to get out.

Andy nodded. “I’m sure you’ve figured out that we’re in the basement right now. I have a beautiful big house upstairs that I can’t wait to show you. But you’re going to have to earn it first, prove to me that you know how to be good, that I can trust you before we can go upstairs. That’s what the training will do. I’m going to teach you exactly how to be perfect for me, everything I want, and in return I’m going to give you a perfect life, so much better than what you had before. We’re going to be so happy together, sweetheart. I promise.

“Now, it’s going to take time. I understand that. And I’m going to be patient with you. I know what your life was like before. I know that you probably never expected that you’d ever get to have this. Change can be scary. Dreams coming true, it’s scary. But I’ll be here to guide you through it all. I’m going to give you everything and all I ask of you in return is that you be good for me. That’s all.”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to sob. What the hell was this? How could this man, this stranger, be so completely deranged? Be smart, you chanted to yourself. Be smart be smart be smart. And if you opened your mouth now, you knew exactly what would come out. So you kept it shut and let him continue.

“So first, let’s talk about your tantrum. I don’t appreciate being spoken to that way. The language and the names, it’s unacceptable. So, no swearing going forward. And I think a good rule for you while we’re downstairs will be for you to address me as Sir. Once we’ve moved upstairs, you’ll be allowed to call me Andy, but whenever we’re down here, it’s Sir. Do you understand?” He looked at you expectantly. You clenched your jaw and nodded. “I expect a verbal response when I speak to you, sweetheart.”

“Yes,” you gritted out. He raised an eyebrow at you and his gaze hardened. It took you a moment to realize your mistake. “Yes, sir,” you corrected yourself.

“Very good. As your husband, I expect you to give me the respect I deserve. That’s something we’ll work on. It’s very important that you don’t question me. I know what’s best for you and you need to trust that I will give you whatever information you need to have. If I haven’t told you something, it’s because you don’t need to know, ok?”

He paused again. What kind of Stepford hell was this? What had you done to deserve this? You took a deep breath. Then another. And another. Then, finally, you were able to force out a “Yes, sir.”

He smiled. “You’re so smart, sweetheart. You’ll be upstairs in no time. Now, you’ll start learning your routine tomorrow. I’ve taken some time off work for our honeymoon, so I’ll have plenty of time to get you settled and acclimated. We’ll go over wardrobe and makeup requirements in the morning too. Now,” he slapped his thighs and stood up, “your soup from earlier went cold, so how about I go get you a fresh bowl while you take a quick shower and get all that dust and grime from the Quiet Room off you?”

You held back a grimace at him calling that room that, as he walked over to one of the other doors and unlocked it. He talked to you like you were a child. All of this was so fucked up. But a shower sounded incredible. You had no idea how long it’d been since you’d had one. So you just nodded and let out a quiet, “Yes, sir.”

He beamed at you. “Everything you’ll need is in the bathroom. I’ll be back in just a few minutes.”

You stood and waited til he was out the door, listening to the beeps and grinding locks once he was gone. Shit. You were really fucked. You went into the bathroom and closed the door behind you. There was no lock on the inside. Of course, there wasn’t.

You didn’t waste much time in the bathroom, desperate for a hot shower. You vaguely registered that the counter was stocked with all sorts of beauty aids – expensive lotions and serums like he’d bought out a department store beauty counter. The shower too, was equally well stocked. So much fancier than the Target sale items you usually stocked your bathroom with. But the shower felt incredible and that’s what you chose to focus on.

When you were finished, you came out of the shower to see that the bathroom door was open. You could hear Andy moving around in the bedroom. You shuddered and quickly wrapped a plush towel around yourself. There was a fresh nightgown waiting for you, soft pink, all silk and lace. You grimaced and wondered what you’d need to do to get a pair of sleep shorts and an old T-shirt to sleep in. Probably more than you were willing to do, if it was even possible. You dried off quickly and slipped the nightgown on.

When you exited the bathroom, he was sitting on the bed, the tray of food sitting next to him. There was a bowl of soup and a cup of water, along with a small plate with a few crackers. The dishes and utensils were all plastic. Nothing you could hurt him with. You sat down and watched him carefully as you lifted the tray onto your lap. He didn’t say anything so it must have been allowed. Your hand shook as you brought the first spoonful up to your lips. The soup was warm, not hot, certainly not scalding. Another hope dashed. Throwing it at him would only result in him getting wet. And angry. Not worth it.

As you ate, you realized just how hungry you actually were. The nausea from whatever drugs you’d had had covered it up, but you were starving. You barely even tasted the soup, you just needed to eat. God, how long had it been since you’d had food? You wouldn’t bother asking Andy. You knew he wouldn’t give you an answer.

After he watched you eat for a few minutes, he said, “What do you say, sweetheart?”

God, he used that word like it was your name. It made you want to scream. You swallowed down all your anger and a spoonful of soup before you said, “Thank you, sir.”

He gave you a satisfied smile. “See,” he said, “I knew you had good manners.”

You shoved the spoon into your mouth to prevent any sort of comeback. This fucking asshole. Luckily he let you eat the rest of your meal in peace. But he never took his eyes off you.

Once you were done, Andy put the tray on the dresser and then declared it bedtime. You watched him cautiously, as he went to the dresser and took out a pair of boxers and a cotton tee. He changed right in the middle of the room and you turned your head away. You caught flashes of skin, that if he’d been anyone else, in any other circumstances, would have had you drooling. It was becoming hard to breathe again. What else would he demand from you tonight?

You chanced a glance back up at him to find him changed and staring at you. You swallowed nervously. “Come here,” he said firmly, holding his hand out to you. You slowly, so slowly, made your way to him. As soon as you were in reach, he grabbed your elbow and pulled you the rest of the way in so that you were nestled into his chest. “I know,” he said, stroking one hand down your back, “that we’re both thinking about our first time together, but I’d like to wait.” He ran the fingers of his other hand down the strap of your nightgown, slipping onto your bare skin. “Give you a chance to get fully adjusted. Give us both a chance to get to know each other.” His voice slipped down an octave as his fingers traveled across your chest. Your body bowed to get away from him, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. “Give us a chance to enjoy each other.” His breath hitched as his hand traveled down to your breast, the other hand on your back had stilled, holding you close, stopping you from getting away. He moved his head as close as he could to yours and whispered, “I want it to be special.” Then, before you could try to back away, he was kissing you. It was firm and demanding, giving you no option but to let it happen. He angled his growing erection into your thigh, and with the way he was holding you, you couldn’t lean away from it. His tongue forced its way into your mouth and you couldn’t help the way you whimpered. It felt like it might go on forever, when he finally pulled back, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m so happy you’re mine,” he whispered.

And then he was out of your space, leaving you trying to breathe again, alone in the middle of the room, as he climbed into the bed. You just stood there, unsure of what to do, your lips still tingling. Once he was settled on the side of the bed closest to the door, he called your name. “Come to bed now,” he said, and there was no mistaking it for anything other than an order. You ducked your head and climbed onto the bed, terrified of what might come next, but also desperate for sleep. This day had left you exhausted and confused and scared and so angry. It was all too much.

You tried to lie down as close to the edge as you could, but he pulled you in close so that your back was flush to his front, his arm thrown over your waist. “I'm so proud of you,” he whispered into your hair, “getting through your first day without having to go to the punishment room.”

Your mouth went completely dry. A room you hadn’t been to. Somewhere worse than the quiet room. “What's–” your tongue struggled to form the words. You took a breath and tried again. “What's the punishment room?” You caught yourself at the last minute and added a quiet “Sir.”

His hand caressed your side. “You keep being my good girl and you won't have to find out.”

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spidybaby · 7 months

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Hi♥️

Can we get a Gold Digger Part III?

Gold Digger | Part III

Summary: Feeling fearful and insecure about the future after a downfall is what kept you away.

Warnings: cursing.

A/N: I've been trying to finish this for a long time. Not able to find the inspiration. Buuuuut, after the Euros match, I totally find the guts to open my drafts and finish what I've been procrastinating. Hope you still find this interesting and read it. Love you all 💛 sorry about the time.

Part one | Part two

London - Seventeen months later

"I think you're ready to go back. The question here is if you feel ready"

"I am. I think I've been ready for a while now."

"And what's stopping you?"

"What if we don't work out?"

"Time is unpredictable."

"What if he realized that I'm not what he wants anymore?"

"You know that is not the case. You told me that."

"I'm scared."

"It's okay, it's going to be fine."

Paris - Eighteen months later

14:35 p.m.

"So, can we say you find the one?" Julien, your friend asks you. "Because I think you have."

"Yes, I found the one."

He clapped happily, popping the champagne he had for this special moment.

You were looking for an apartment. Returning to Paris after more months of being out, he helped you look for the perfect place to return to your parisian life.

"I want to make a toast, for the girl I love the most, and the one I know is ready to shine in all the meaning of the word."

"Je t'aime." You smile, giving him a hug. He was a big part of your return to France.

After graduating, you got an opportunity to go to London with the company that you always wanted to work for.

They were expanding their business and chose París to begin. Since you knew the language and had your whole education there, they naturally asked you to take over the company.

"Let's get this paperwork done with and you and I are going on a furniture hunt." You say, grabbing your pen, walking to the entrance while drinking your champagne.

Paris - Kylian therapist office

"Did you bring the letter I asked you to write?"

"Oui, I wrote my heart out."

"Okay, know follow my instructions. Go home, have a shower, have a nice dinner and some wine if you want to extra relax. You told me you have a fireplace so, turn it on and burn the letter."

"Don't you want to read it?"

"No, I'm not, but you can do a last reading before the burning. This will end a cicle, this means you understand that it happened."

"It happened." He nods.

Parc des princes

- 5:30 p.m. -

"Kyky" neymar shouts from the inside of the stadium. "Want to come with us tonight? Bruna and I are doing a special dinner with friends."

"I can go a little after dinner, I have to do something first."

"Do you have a date? Hmm?" Ney poke his stomach, making Kylian laugh and smack his hand away.

"No, just something I have to do tonight. But for that pasta Bruna makes I'm definitely having a cheat day." He laughs, giving Ney a hug while they exit to the field.

The training goes fine. He let his frustration on the field, turning it into magic while he moves the ball with his feet.

"I miss Sergio. I feel like a part of me is gone, " hakimi says, faking crying and making everyone laugh.

"You miss Sergio more than your ex." Neymar shouts from the other side of the field.

"That's it, Junior."

Kylian laughs at the two guys running around, having fun.

Fun is something he ultimately didn't have. The transfer market is happening. After the higher-ups decided to announce to the world that he didn't want to stay till the end of his contract. The whole internet was a mess.

His parents had long talks with him about his career. Telling him what to do. He's young, too young to be this worried about life.

But he knows that without the help of his parents, he wouldn't be where he is right now.

"Ethan, don't sleep. That ball was an easy catch."

"Who's the boss here? Luis or you?"

"Just do what I say." He says, hitting his head in a joking manner. "Do you want to come with me to Ney tonight?"

"Nah, mom wants to go get this couch she's been obsessed with for the last month. The store lady told her that they only had one in existence and she wants it."

"Okay." He says, continuing with the training.

- On the other side of France -

"I want another couch, like one for the bedroom. I saw a beautiful one on pinterest."

"Do you have an idea if there's a store that sells this here?" He asks, looking at the pictures.

"Yes, I actually called like an hour ago, and they told me they will have one in existence. But they're unpacking it, so it's going to be in exhibition in like an hour. Let's go."

Julien shrugs, grabbing his coat and walking behind you to the elevator. "The PSG has a game this Sunday."

"Nice." You say, ignoring his intentions. "I need a charger."

"Don't give me that attitude." He hits you with the newspaper on his hand. "You know why I say this."

"I know, but like I said. Everything has a time, and I need to find my time to do what I need to do."

"Okay, no biggie."

You call an Uber to take you both to the mall. The store is located in this mall that's a little far from your house.

When you arrived you both check stores and pick some things to decorate. Julien knows the vibe you want for this apartment.

"Hey, I'm going to check the couch to see if it's worth the price." You pat his shoulder. He was trying to find the perfect "dinner plates."

You check some emails while you walk there, not paying attention to anything else. Once you arrive, the lady who spoke with you told you the couch was just about to be ready.

Letting you walk to the store, you check other furniture that might be a good competition for this one.

You wanted something that you could relax without replacing the bed, but you also don't want to do work on the bed.

An "L" shaped couch picked your attention. It was in a dark brown color. The couch was beautiful, pretty similar to something that has your mind burning.

"Mademoiselle, we have the couch ready if you want to see it."

"Merci, I want to ask, do this couch come in a cream color?"

While the lady shows the colors of the couch you were eying while you two walk over to the pinterest couch.

You turn your back to the other one. Even when you don't want to accept it. It reminds you of the one you had on the room you shared with him.

"I think I want the other one more."

"We have it in three colors. Shall we go to see the other options? We have them on our second floor."

"Oui." You nod smiling.

While you walk upstairs, there are two people walking in the store, two faces you know more than enough.

"Ethan, can you please put the phone down? I want your help."

"Fine, but after this you're taking me to eat."

Fayza laughs. "It would have been cheaper to come alone, I see."

"Having a daughter was also an option." He laughs, his mother hitting him on the back of the head.

They were scolted to the couch, and Fayza immediately loved it. Picturing it in the perfect space in her house.

While they get checked out, you were trying to decide between a light brown or a cream dirty white color.

"Okay, this one would be."

"Amazing, if you follow me back to the first floor to get everything settle, your address, the payment."

You texted Julien, finding he was waiting for you at this restaurant. Asking him to send you a picture of the menu so you can pick while paying.

You lift your head back to the room, finding a face looking at you curious. The way Ethan eyes light up when he confirms it's you.

- Kylian's House -

The music in the room is calm, a nice jazz to relax his muscles. The outfit is ready to go out. But he has to burn his past to prepare to start a new present.

But he can't let go of the envelope. He's holding it tight, holding it like his life dependent on it. Maybe because what's written on it made his life take a turn.

He sighs, leaving the letter on the couch. He was feeling ready when he spoke with his therapist, but now that he actually has to do it, it is like a burning sensation.

Does this mean he has to burn the feelings he has for you?

After all, it's been more than a year, and you haven't come back to him. He was working hard.

But his year wasn't the best, the club fighting with him, the press fighting with him and even Paris people mad at him.

All he wanted to do was go back to when you would be there for him after the long training hours, after the comments, after the thick and the thin.

But he can't, and he regrets it all the time.

- Neymar's house -

"Vamos Kyky, good thing you came, Bruna was asking about you"

"I bring her something."

"She's going to love it. Let's go inside."

The majority of the team was there. They were celebrating the news of Neymar and Bruna.

He was happy, even though Neymar and him had some shady times, he was friendly after all, for the sake of the team.

"Hakimi, stop with the potatoes, Luis is going to kill you, man."

"Shut it Mbappe, you were eating chocolate last week, and nobody told you shit."

They all laugh. He loves these times because that distracts him. That makes him feel less alone at home. Where no one was waiting, where no one was thinking about him.

The time with his teammates was good. He drank some cocktails. He was going to regret it tomorrow, but he needed them.

"How are the kids?" He asks Achraf, they were walking to their cars.

"They're with their mom. They are so big, I had to buy them everything again because they grew out of the clothes."

"In Spain?"

"Yes, I can't wait to see them, Hiba is bringing them here and they're staying a few days."

He's happy for his friend, after everything for him his kids were the most important thing.

"Dude, I really miss Verrati."

"I can't believe he's gone, he would have chug that bottle down and be fine tomorrow."

"I want to ask you something, Kicks." Achraf sighs. "How are you? I know you have been down, you know I'm here."

Was he okay? Was he bad? Was he sad? Or angry?

He's feeling everything and nothing at the same time. It's like this for time to time. Sometimes he's fine, happy. But then everything in him feels down, feels blue.

"Don't worry, I'm fine. It's just I guess the season."

"You know I'm here. Right?" Achraf repeats.

"I do, and I'm thankful for that."

- The furniture store - Hours prior

"When did you come back?" Ethan throws himself at you, who with open arms receives the hug. "This is such a surprise."

"Hello, roots."

"Mom, look who's here." He says, letting you go.

Fayza turns at the call of her name, her eyes illuminating at the sight of you. She can't deny how much she misses you.

"Ma belle." Same as Ethan, she hugs you tightly.

"Hello to you two, I've missed you so much."

"When did you come back?" Ethan repeats.

"I been here for a few days now." You confess. "I'm going to be working here."

"So you're back for good?"

"Yes, roots. I am." You hug him back again. "I'm so happy to find you, I missed you a lot."

"We missed you too. You look so good. I was so happy when you told me about your job opportunity."

Fayza and you were close. She went to your graduation, gave you a gift for your birthday, and texted you on Christmas day, on the new year. She was like a mother to you.

"I wanted to be stable here with everything before telling you."

"Oh I'm so happy you're here." Ethan jumps a little. "Even Melissa is going to be so happy."

You wanted them back, wanted your little family bond back, but first got to get the boy back.

"I hope to see you guys again, maybe for a coffee or a chocolate."

"Wait, let's go to dinner." Ethan suggests.

Thankfully, Fayza notices the way you don't want to disappoint Ethan. "Maybe later, we have to go home because you haven't done your homework."

"Oh no, roots go home and finish that homework." You joke, pinching him on the ribs. "We can meet some other time for chocolate or a coffee."

Your conversation was interrupted by the worker who handed Fayza her card. The other worker is waiting for you to complete the sale.

"You guys have the same number? If you do I'll text you and we can meet up, okay?"

They both agree with the plan, saying their goodbye, and with another round of hugs, they left the store.

It's undeniable that the Paris Saint German sucks. They have some good moments, and they have some bad. But the bad ones have lately been much more than the good ones.

The last matches were bad, barely even working as a team. It was like if eleven players were there doing their own thing. No union, nothing.

Some people will say "oh but then won the last two," but with the lack of technique they have, it was a big surprise.

The Clermont team was doing so much better. Leaving zero chances for the team. And it was obvious that they were lacking something because it was almost the end and no goals.

Twitter was crazy about the fact that "The Kylian Mbappe" didn't scored against Clermont.

But it's not on him. It's on the team. It's on everyone. Even the new coach. Galtier did so much shit that you can't change in a few days.

You turn the tv off, angry at the result. Stupid game, you thought. Even if it was a repetition, you were mad as if it was live.

Your phone vibrates, picking your attention. You opened the notification, and it was Ethan who sent you a reel about cookies in a new pâtisserie in Paris.

You needed to use your new oven to see if it was working properly. Also, you bought this chocolate that was really good with some butter cookies.

So you invite him to come over, wanting to release some stress and feel some normality again.

The match against Newcastle was bad. The team lost 4 to 1, and the team was struggling.

You notice how Kylian was down. He's not in good shape. Not physically but mentally. Something that makes you worry.

His knee was bothering him again. He had to leave the field because of the pain. Thing that worried you even more.

You wanted to pick up the phone and message him, telling him that whatever is crossing his mind is just there, in his mind.

"Y/n?" Julian says, waving his hand in front of your face. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, sorry. I got lost in my thoughts."

"Notice that." He laughs, he guessed what you were thinking but didn't say it.

"I wonder if he's okay. He looks tired."

"Text him." He shrugs. "I mean, you came back for a reason, do it."

You tap your nail to your phone. You wanted, but what if he has someone else with him already telling him all the things you should be telling him?

"Not yet." You say, getting up and walking to your fridge. "Ice cream?"

- Dressing room - Parc des princes -

"Guys, honestly, we have to keep going. Don't let this bring you down." Luis, tell the team.

The dressing room has this quiet aura. Everybody is thinking of those four goals that nobody stopped, Donaruma feeling bad, the defense guys feeling the same.

And Kylian, even worse. He's thinking of the shots he missed. The moment where he had opportunities and missed them.

His knee hurts. He's tired. He's not focused on the field. He's just not in his prime. That's obvious to everybody.

Especially to the press, printing his mistakes as the first pages, making his missing shots as their conversation on sports programs. Making the Twitter people feel confident about the shit storm they're giving him.

"Kylian, can I have a word with you?"

Luis Enrique and he walked to the corridor. The other team was happy, leaving. Saying their goodbye to the two of them.

"How is your knee?" He asks, he notice the faces he is doing while walking. "You sure you want to play next match? You still have the euros."

"I'm good, I promise sir."

"Promise me something. If you feel like you're overworking your knee, you're telling me. I prefer to sit you for one or two matches instead of you missing the season and euros."

"I promise."

After the talk, Luis advised him to take some recovery therapy. More therapy, he thought.

The drive home was felt long. His chauffeur was quiet, noticing his demeanor. He needs a hot shower and a good night sleep.

He slams the door of his room. Almost ripping this t-shirt, throwing it with all his force to the wall. He wants to scream but won't.

The shower was more than hot. It was burning. But it was all he needed. To feel something again.

He hated to do skin care, thinking all he wanted at night was to sleep, but you taught him to take care of his skin. Creating a night and morning routine.

Even when you're not there, he still did it.

While he stares at his reflection, on the big mirror above his bed, he doesn't know what weights more.

His regret or the ring that sits and collects dust in his nightstand.

That same ring he bought two days before that night.

The same one he was putting on your finger. Now, sure, he will have to throw it away.

Sure, he won't be having nobody next to him to reassure him everything was going to be alright.

Sure, he won't be thinking of raising children with anybody else.

Sure, he won't be thinking about buying a retirement house with a big backyard where to watch his grandkids playing.

Sure, there won't be anybody after you.

Unsure about you being his future.

"I need the last reports of the head office so I can start to organize everything and have it ready for the opening."

You were working on a meeting, having to multi-task and focus your attention between the meeting and what your co-workers were saying with the football game that's happening.

The Rennes game was better. They were winning. This was the last game before the Euros.

You wanted to see Kylian with the team of Les Bleus. They somehow cheer him up. They were like an energy drink for him.

Olivier, Antoine, even the coach. They were all like a family, and they were there for each other, no matter what.

Fayza invited you to the match, she knew you wanted to talk to him but didn't knew how. Ethan and her decided to keep your return a secret, letting you announced it on your own.

She sent you a jersey with his number on it. You try it on, smiling at the reflection. He loved seeing you in jerseys with his number on it.

And you loved to display your support for your boyfriend. Showing up at matches with his number on full display, showing the people you were his. And he was for sure yours.

You opennyour phone, going to instagram to see his page, you feel like a stalker. But it was the only thing you dare to do right now.

You turn the tv on, wanting to see something while working. And the first thing that pop up is a football news channel. They have Kylian picture on display.

"Kylian Mbappe leaves training to go to Bondy. The player suffered a family lost and asked his trainer Deschamps for permission to go back to his hometown to say his goodbyes."

You want to text Ethan, but you don't want to disrupt them. You wanted to know what was happening.

So you have two options. Achraf or Tchaga. Both will eventually tell Kylian you reach and asked about him. Both were only one call away.

You go for the second option. Having a little more trust in this one. You search for his number on your contacts.

The phone rings until you hit the voice-mail. You block your phone again, questioning if you had to try again or maybe just wait and speak with Fayza or Ethan later.

You take the jersey off, changing back into your pajamas, ready to be comfy again.

The vibration of your phone alert you, thinking it was from work you walk slowly to the device. But once you're close, you notice the name in the screen "Tchaga"

"Hello"

"Hey, long time no see, how are you?"

You smile at the greetings. "I'm good, how are you, scissors?"

"Been better, have a cold. But you didn't call me to know that. Tell me, how can I help you?"

"I heard the news about Ky, and I don't want to bother him or his family. But I want to know if I can help."

"I'm actually planning on going to Bondy, would you like to come with me?"

You wanted to scream a yes. But you have to be rational and think if this is something that he would want.

"I don't want to be a bother."

"You will never be a bother, not to him or his family. Get ready and pack something to change just in case."

"What? Wait, what if he doesn't want me there?"

"Bébé, he's been in a shit whole without you, so get your pretty as to the closet, change into something, and send me your location. I'll be there in an hour." He says, hanging up the call.

You do as you were told. Sending him your location and the parking code.

Running to the bathroom to have a quick shower and get ready.

After that, you took a black legging, a white blouse with a little London eye on the side. You white sneakers. You add some blush and mascara, just to add something to your face.

You pack the basics and the clothes Tchaga told you to pack. Just to notice you were done in time. Tchaga texted you that he was in the basement waiting for you.

- Bondy - Later that day

Kylian was exhausted. He feels sad and tired. He feels like crying. But won't.

The room feels cold, barely any air. Of maybe it's just him having difficulty breathing. Maybe it's the last few, maybe it's the lost shot, maybe it's the team.

"Kyky"

Ethan was worried about him. He notices everything. How his brother has such prominent bags under his eyes and is losing a little weight.

How he chooses to sleep instead of doing the things he loves. How the whole "mbappe saga" destroyed a little his confidence.

"Want to tell me what's going on?"

Kylian scoffs, he can't believe that his little brother is the one worried and not the other way around.

"I'm supposed to be asking you that, Ethan."

"Well, if I'm worried about you, I'm going to ask and help.It's not like it's a crime being down."

"I just want this bad time to end."

"It will, don't worry, Ky, you're so strong."

He smiles, patting his brother on the shoulder. Ethan offers him a cookie. Knowing he likes them.

"Tchaga told me he was coming. He's probably about to be here." He sighs, not sure what else to do. "Let's play some fifa, I have the app on my phone."

He smiles, heartwarming with how much Ethan is doing to make him feel better. "If I win, you do the dishes."

"Deal."

While they got some distraction, you and Tchaga were stuck in traffic. You feel anxious. Maybe it was the drink you got at Starbucks, maybe the fact that after almost two years you and the man you love were reuniting.

"You need to stop with your leg, bébé." Tchaga says, putting his hand on your knee to stop it from moving. "The car is moving with you, and it's making me nauseous."

"Sorry, I'm just nervous."

"Okay, I want to know, let's get deep." He laughs, turning the car off and turning to you. "So you left after graduation, not blaming you tho, I would have done the same."

You smile at his rambling. You missed this so much. Maybe not the topic but the talk.

"The thing here is, you're back, but are you back for him? I know you came back to work. You just told me that."

"Get to the point." You laugh.

"My point is, don't rush me. We're not moving." He says sassy. "Are you taking him back? Are you sure you want to go back and take up every challenge you guys may face?"

You don't have to think your answer. You knew what you wanted way before stepping back into French territory.

"I wouldn't have come back if I wasn't sure that I wanted that."

-Bondy - 9:30 p.m. -

"Mom, I'm going back to the house, Tchaga is coming and Ethan is tired. Do you need anything else?"

"No, go and have a good sleep, baby."

He hugs his mom, kissing her cheek and leaving back to her house. Ethan and him walked over there. The night was calm.

"You know what I want?" Ethan asks.

"Yeah?"

"I want some chocolate with butter cookies." He says, caressing his tummy.

He nods, agreeing with how much a good chocolate and some good butter cookies will heal the day.

"Y/n used to make some amazing cookies. Never knew how to make them, but we can try doing them some other day."

Ethan was talking about other things, how he can't wait to see on the match against Netherlands.

When they got closer, he noticed the car of his friend. Tchaga went out, walking up to him and hugging him.

"Hey, Ethan, why don't you help me with something that's on the co-pilot side." He says with a smirk.

The teenager nods, not thinking about anything else walks to the door. He opens it, seeing you. He wanted to scream, but you shush him putting your finger over your lips.

"Hey, get inside, I will take care of this."

Both men nod to his words, walking inside while they talk, Tchaga was telling him about the crazy traffic and how a little trip turned into almost half a day one.

"What are you doing here?" He whispers while Tchaga walks into the house with his brother. "No that you aren't welcome but you surprise me."

"I wanted to make sure you guys are okay."

"Okay, sweet." He laughs, opening the door for you to get out. "I am, but I'm not if he is."

"I've been worried about him, his whole attitude, he not even being on the press conferences of les bleus."

"Yeah, my parents and I are worried. He won't open up to us." He sighs, tired of seeing his brother like this. "I just want him to go back to the happy Kylian."

"Hey, do you think you can give me some time alone with him? I want to talk."

"God, yes, let's go." He slams the door, grabbing your arm and practically running inside. "Stay here, I'm going to ask Tchaga to come see something so we can leave."

You nod, closing the door. He dissappear into the corridor. You open your bag to spray some mint scent into your mouth, take a small mirror to check that you look decent.

You hear two voices coming down. Tchaga and Ethan walked quickly to where you are. Excited about you and Kylian talking again.

"Okay, he's in the kitchen, go." Tchaga push you a little.

They both left the house. You stood there for a little while. Feeling the senses come back to you. You were about to meet up with him.

You walk slowly to the kitchen, hearing some music playing. You can't get cold feet right now. Not after spending hours in the car just to come see him.

His back is facing you. You run his whole figure with your eyes, smiling at the fact that you're matching without planning it.

You nock on the wood door that's at the entrance. He turns without looking, typing something on his phone.

"Hey E, I found a good recipe for those cookies."

"You can't bake even if your life depends on it." You laugh lightly.

He has to blink several times, scared this would be a fever dream and not you in front of him. With your rosey cheeks, you nice smile and the same shinning eyes he loves.

"I can write the recipe for you. That way, it's similar." You speak again. "But if you don't know how to use your oven the I don't think it will work."

He's still speechless, thing that worried you. He does the same thing you just did to him. Scan your whole figure.

"How?"

"I been on Paris for some time now." You confess, "I wanted to call you, I just felt so scared you weren't going to answer."

"Why wouldn't I?"

You shrug, not really feeling like explaining your insecurities to him. "Just, my mind playing games."

He wants to hug you, missing the feeling and warmth only you can give him. He wants to open his arms around you.

Fuck it, he thought.

Opening his arms while walking to you. You drop your bag to the floor, opening your arms to him.

The hug was like a band-aid. It was what your hearts needed. Like when you put something back together and it just fits so good you can't even see the damage.

"I miss you so much." He hides his face into your neck. Kissing it. "Please don't go, I can't take being away from you again."

You kissed his shoulder, feeling the moment you dreamed about it, the whole thing was better than your dreams.

"Can you look at me?"

He broke the hug, hands on your waist so you couldn't run. It's not like you're planning on doing it.

"If we're doing this again, I need you to really fucking trust me." You laugh, maybe out of nerves. "Babe, I would never be with you for your money. I am with you for your heart, for your soul, you're my fucking soul mate and I can't let you go. But if you fucking pull some shit like that I will make sure you are dead."

"I swear on everything I have, I swear on the kids we don't even have yet, that I won't pull nothing like that. Have all my money, have all my properties, what's mine is yours. I was stupid enough not to back you up, and that was the worst thing I ever did."

You shut him up with a kiss. The way his lips are just like you remember, as soft as before, as warm as before.

His hands on your back, pulling you as close as he can. While your hands are on his face. Not wanting to break the kiss.

When the air becomes a necessity, you both can't stop looking at your eyes. The eyes never lie. They tell our secrets. And if anybody sees the way your eyes look at each other, they will see heart shapes on them.

You hear someone clearing their throat. Making you both turn. "Well, hello, I didn't mean to interrupt. But I want to drop this off on the counter."

He let go of his hold, helping his mother with the box she had in her hands. "Oi, that smile was lost until today." She jokes. Making you blush. "Well, I'm going to sleep. Y/n, belle. This is your house. Make yourself conformable."

You nod, wishing her a good night. Once she's out of the kitchen view, you return to the arms of your love.

"By the way, please go to sleep, we have to get Kylian to training tomorrow."

Tou both laugh at her words. Not promising anything. Not after that long.

The game was good, Kylian just scored two goals. He was not only the captain but was the reason they won the game.

The crowd was crazy about it. people were sure he wasn't going scored the two goals that were sending them to the victory.

But oh boy, how wrong they were.

You walk with his mom and Ethan to the outside of the stadium. You were happy for him.

"You know, when he used to say you were his lucky charm, I was like, iugh disgusting. But I think you really are a lucky charm."

You laugh, hitting his arms. "I can go to your matches, maybe I can give you some of my luck."

"No need." Melissa interrupts, smirking. "He has his own lucky charm. Just a little shy to admit it."

"Oh shush." Ethan says, blushing like crazy.

Once you're on the basement of the stadium, where the private parking lot is. You all got into Kylians car.

"Hey, so you do like dudes with a car but without a license." E jokes, remembering the message you sent him.

"Careful kid," you warn jokingly. "You will be walking home if you keep with those unfunny jokes."

The whole trip was Ethan and Melossa fighting about something they saw on tik tok, making jokes about it and Fayza and you being confused.

When the time for Ky comes back home hits, Fayza, Ethan, and Melissa left. Letting him enjoy his night.

"Hey, handsome." You welcome him with a hug. "You did amazing, it was one of the best games you had this season."

"Another way of you telling me my club sucks."

"Shhh, just take the good part." You shush him with a kiss.

"Are we alone?"

You nod, kissing him again. You never had enough when you're with him. It was like a kiss with a candy. You love it and refuse to give in.

He picks you up, making his way upstairs. Almost falling, thing that made you laugh. It was like the beginning. And you loved new beginnings.

- Five months later -

"Ready?" You ask, putting on your seat belt.

He nods, he was feeling anxious about this decision, but you made him understand that it was a necessity.

During the little drive, he told you about some plans Luis has with the team as they were going to the last games of the Ligue 1.

"I never asked you this, but do you ever get free Uber eats?" You ask, confused. He plays for the Uber eats Ligue.

"Why would I get free Uber eats?"

"Uber eats Ligue 1"

"Bébé, just no."

You laugh at his expression, but you had to ask. It was something that had your curiosity.

You park outside the house, Kylian quickly exit the car and run to your side. He was a passenger princess, but he was a gentleman.

"Thanks, Mister Mbappe." You kiss his cheek, taking his hands on yours.

"You're welcome, Miss fiancé."

You knock on the door. You can't help but deep the hold on his hands. It was something that was necessary, you repeat in your head.

The door is open by a woman. She happily lets you inside, offering you something to drink.

"We're okay, thank you."

"He's in the garden. He's reading."

He leads the way to the garden, opening the door and letting you step outside first. The Parisienne air is cold. Good think there's some sun after the cold cloudy winter.

"Père."

Wilfrid smiles, leaving his book on the little table. He was excited about meeting you. He wanted as much as everybody a new beginning.

"Hey, you need to put on a jacket, is cold outside." He warns his son, hugging him. "Hey, Y/n."

"Hi, sir."

"Can I give you a hug?" He asks, hopeful that you will allow him to. "Aftet all, you will be my daughter in law."

You hug him, you left all the pain and resentment in the past, that was hurting you even more.

"Sit, please."

You loved the way his garden looks, wanting to stole some ideas for the new place. "I love the roses."

"They are looking good today. The sun is helping them to look good." He cuts one that's close to the table. Giving it to you. "Tell me. You guys came for a reason."

Kylian looks at you. He wanted you to be the one to talk. He nods his head once you look at him. A sign of support.

"I want to leave all in the past. We want to start a clean new beginning. And we want you on it. You're his father, and we're going to be family. So I. Well, we want you to be there for us."

"I want that, I know I have a long way to you, but please, now that my heart is full with good intentions."

"We know, père." Kylian says. "That's why we wanted to do this."

You feel out of breath. But at the same time, lighter, like taking something off your shoulders. Your life was taking a good turn.

You chatted with his father for a while, sharing some wedding details. Your plan was to have a wedding once the season finishes. So you can have a honeymoon and some free time with him.

You grab the hand of your fiance, the ring he gave you shining. You knew that even if it was hard, you needed to leave the past in the past. Just lean about it.

🪷🪷🪷

🏷: @slayweirdosaway @voguebikini @ironmaiden1313 @magicalfundragon @nightlockcornucopia @christianpulisic10 @bellinghambby22 @noodle81937 @moonlightholland22 @germanapples @paniwiaderko @megannandrewss @unstablefemme @suzysface @nightlockcornucopia @ama1a2 @topguncultleader @lunamelona

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wosoluver · 17 days

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We don't talk anymore Part 2

Claudia x childhood best friend!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Seeing her eyes shining as you did.

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

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

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

"They are best friends." said Patri.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You heard someone clean their through.

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

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

all walked out for the field.

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

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

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

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

"You're better than I remembered."

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

"I'm sorry I left you behind."

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

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

"Well I took the longer way here."

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

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

"I told you, we would make it."

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

You two finished getting ready.

"Do you need a ride home?"

"That would be nice."

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

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

"She won't mind."

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

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

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

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

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mi-dori · 14 days

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The Milf Magnet: Rich Lady CEO

Prompt of Series: You've recently finished high school and now you wanted to further your studies at a college that was a few cities away. You moved into a new neighbourhood and was met with all kinds of unexpected encounter

Prompt of Fic: Your Midterms are approaching and since you've transferred, you've made alot of friends from rich to poor. One of your friends, Stelle invited you to study at her house and there you ran into her Mom whom you've had a couple of encounters with and some how you ended up in her bed at the end of the day.

Warnings: G!P Reader, Mentions of Cunnilingus, Character taking control, uses of blindfolds, ropes, creampies, Character being obsessed with you

Featuring: Stelle, March, Blade.

KAFKA X READER

Three weeks have passed since your encounter with a redhead someone. She hasn't left your mind since and surely you wanted more but how can you face her? Was it fear? Maybe it wasn't. Maybe it was just the fact that you'd get too flustered just by seeing her face; remembering how fucked out it looked that night. You've received multiple calls and texts from her, but you couldn't bring yourself to answer them and besides, you have your midterms approaching which will work as the perfect excuse for not replying back to her.

"I really can't grasp accounts," March sighed dejectedly, her hands held tightly by Stelle. Out of all the friends you've made, March and Stelle were two of the closest ones and they've been there for you since you met them. You've had a few encounters with Stelle's mom, mostly because she had relations with the school board and because she's a CEO. The interactions with her were longer than expected because everytime she visits the school, you were assigned to her for the day, offering your assistance whenever she needed and acting as a tour guide for her. Something about her made you feel slightly flustered and small. Her intimidating gaze never failed to make you shrink and her captivating smile was one you could never deny.

"Do you wanna come over to my place? The three of us could study together." Stelle suggested. March smiled and so did you. Stelle's place was enormous and comfortable and compared to the house you're renting, it's much more convenient as well.

Stelle's driver- Blade, came to pick you up. If Blade was here, that means Stelle's mom was home. A slightly uneasy feeling started to stir up within you. "You okay there? You look a little pale," March placed her hand on your head. You shook your head no before smiling.

"I'm fine March." Stelle looked at you in a way that made you think she didn't believe you before she went to her car and soon followed you and March. The drive to Stelle's house was peaceful. Small conversations were exchanged back and forth between you three and soon after, you arrived at her large house. Blade opened the door and led you three into the house where the maids were running about doing work. He continued leading you until you stopped at a big door that was labelled "Office".

"This is your mom's office?!" March exclaimed. Stelle nodded enthusiastically, a proud smile beaming her face. With a deep breath, you walked into her office was Blade went in first and informed Kafka of your arrival.

As you entered, you started to feel uneasy and flustered. Kafka was wearing a white Button up shirt with the first three buttons undone. Her glasses was on the bridge of her nose and her hair was tied loosely in a pony tail. "Mom! I'm home. I've brought some friends to study with." Kafka took her attention off the screen and looked at her daughter with a smile. She took off her glasses and got up.

"Welcome home Stelle and her little friends. I'm a bit occupied at the moment so please make yourself comfortable." She hugged Stelle, then March and lastly you.

"My~ you've grown a bit since the last time y/n~" when she hugged you, you felt her run her hands all over your back making goose bumps raise on your skin.

"T-thank you miss K-kafka.."

"Oh dear, I told you to drop the 'ms'. You're making me feel older than I already am," she chuckled as she let you go. You took a good look around her office, admiring the art works she had mounted on her walls.

"You kids head on downstairs. I'll finish up some work and then I'll come down to help you all study okay."

With her last statement, you all made your way downstairs. The maids placed snacks and drinks in the study area and you took a seat on the comfortable couch. "Now this is the life!" March exclaimed as she relaxed in the couch. "Having maids do everything for you while you get to relax is amazing!" Stelle chuckled at her girlfriend's enthusiasm.

The three of you began studying and an hour later, Kafka came down and helped you guys. She explained all the concepts the three of you didn't understand and made sure to break in down into smaller details. All that studying made you kinda sleepy so you excused yourself and headed to the bathroom.

Splashing some cold water on your face didn't help you one bit and as you were about to exit, Kafka walked in with a loose robe. "Are you alright deary?" She asked, a bit of teasing in her voice.

"I-I'm fine m-Kafka... I'm just kinda sleepy is all."

"Sleepy eh?" She walked inside the bathroom and looked the door before corning you up against the wall.

"I got something to keep you awake for a good amount of time~"

A/n:

Hehehe cliffhanger 😈

Don't worry, there will be a part 2 with the actual smut.

#honkai star rail kafka #kafka x reader #hsr kafka #honkai star rail kafka x reader #hsr kafka x reader #hsr #hsr x reader #kafka x reader smut

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spider-jaysart · 3 months

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Okay soooo, first time I'm doing something like this, but I wanna introduce a fave oc of mines today that I've been working on for a longtime now :)

Her name is Nadja Wayne-Kent and she's a Damijon kid

(Click for better quality)

@camo-wolf @paladin-of-nerd-fandom65

The name Nadja means "hope" in Arabic. My very dear friend @theredheaded-stuff was the one who helped me pick it. And her hero name is Super Canyon, which is inspired by the Canyon Wren bird

(More under the cut)

Backstory:

After being inspired by the story of how Kon was created, a secret group of no good scientists, who just love causing chaos with many of their inventions, decided one day to create a mixed clone of both Damian and Jon, thinking they can do better than Lex did, so they collected both of the boys DNA's after one of their recent battles in public and got to work. Once their experiment was supposed to be done, they saw that their machine had actually created a baby girl instead of a grown, powerful clone like they had wanted, so they were ready to dispose of her as a failed subject, but were suddenly stopped just on time by Damian and Jon who broke into the place and kicked their butts after finding out that a recently committed crime they were investigating was caused by them. When they were done, the boys found Nadja and were surprised to find out she's a clone related to them both. They decided to take her with them and made her their daughter to raise together after that.

Personality:

She's helpful, stubborn, is as intelligent as Damian is, friendly but also tough when she needs to be, observant, sometimes a little too honest about things but doesn't always mean it as rude, courageous (a trait that can be pretty helpful sometimes, but also get her into really big trouble during dangerous situations too)

Abilities and skills:

She has the usual Kryptonian abilities, which are flying, super strength, superhearing, superspeed, superbreath, ice breath, invulnerablity, x-ray vision, and laser vision that's purple instead of the usual red (because Lois has purple eyes, so it's something unique that was passed onto her that way). Sometimes they don't always work though and can accidentally get out of hand too since she's still growing and learning, but Jon aways tries his best to help her get better at using and controlling them. Nadja also uses many concentrating tips from Damian too for improvement, like meditating for example and other things like that, and he helps her practice them

And because she's half Kryptonian, she also has a couple of unlocked special abilities of her own too, which is invisiblity, the ability to phase through walls and objects, plus the power to also transfer the heat of her laser vision into the palm of her hands to burn who or whatever she touches and she can also let it absorb her whole body too if she wants, which makes her even more untouchable and at the same time lets her release a strong fiery blast around herself onto enemies or incoming threats (her body glows completely red whenever she does this and if it's just her hands, the same happens to them too). Nadja hasn't been able to properly master these special powers yet though, only one of them, which is the invisiblity one

For skills, thanks to teachings from Damian, plus Talia whenever she visits her, Nadja knows how to use a sword and fight well in combat in case her powers aren't working the way she urgently needs them to during patrols and missions

Random facts:

She calls Damian Baba and Jon Dad.

She calls Clark "Grampops" and Bruce "Grampbats". For Talia, she calls her "Grandmother" and for Lois, she calls her "Grandmama".

Her best friend is her same age Cousin Dick II, the son of her much older Cousin Jake Grayson and his Wife Meredith Robinson. In the Batfamily (besides Damian), she's close with all her Aunt and Uncles. And while she definitely also gets along a lot with her other relatives who are in the Superfamily, the person she's most closest to there (besides Jon ofc) is Kon, due to them both being created as clones meant for evil but turned out good instead, which got them to bond even more as Uncle and Niece.

Her voice sounds like Clementine's from Telltales the walking dead games, but specifically the version of it from season 2 for the age she's in right now.

She has messy hair like Jon when she lets it loose. Jon is the one who always has to brush her hair whenever it gets tangled up, since the steel strength of it is just too difficult for Damian to actually handle himself.

Nadja laughs at Damian's jokes all the time since she gets his dark humor and he loves that. They always laugh a lot about it together but when Jon's around, they're Iike "You wouldn't get it" and he gets all offended.

Jon passed his love for noodles onto Najda and Damian's like "That's not healthy!!" And tries cooking her vegetarian meals more often or healthy ones that Talia would used to make him back when he was a kid, just so that Najda will eat real food lol. Najda also really loves the meals that comes from Damian's culture too and gets happy whenever he makes them for dinner.

For nicknames, Jon will sometimes call her "Sweetpea", "Sugar cookie", and "Tootsie pops", while Damian calls her "Habibti", "Thamin" (meaning "precious" in Arabic), and "Galbi" (which means "my heart" in Arabic)

Damian matches his outfits with Nadja all the time just like Talia would always used to do with him when he was a little kid. He does this with Jon included too and they take pictures together.

When making her hero suit, Damian was the one who helped Nadja out in drawing the designs and brainstormed ideas with her. When she had finally found one she liked and was ready to make it, Damian and Jon could've helped her sew it and everything, but they didn't have many materials that she could use or a sewing machine either, only a regular sewing kit that they use to fix up their own suits whenever they get damaged, so they let her make it with Ma's help instead at her place when they visit her and Pa again, since she actually owned a machine and also had a sewing room filled with many useful materials. When asked, Ma didn't mind letting Nadja use her stuff at all and was instead delighted about it since it would just give them the chance to spend time with eachother while doing one of her favorite hobbies together.

And next time, while having their usual Mother and Son days out together, Talia helped Damian pick out the sarong skirt for Nadja while hanging around stores, since they thought it would be nice for her to have one. Jon was the one who bought Nadja the red sneakers while shopping together with Kathy, since it reminded him of Kathy's old purple, rainbow ones, but with a twist of red thrown onto it, which also reminded him a lot of his favorite old ones that he used to always wear as a kid too. Dick and Cyborg helped her insert digital tech into her cuffs, which lets out hologram screens that let her know whenever she's over using her powers since she's still mastering them and it does plenty of other useful things for her too.

Najda was also given a mask to go with her suit at first too since she thinks it's annoying to wear glasses in her regular life everyday, but then it got lost during a fight and some villains saw her face, so she was still forced to go with the glasses route in the end anyways.

As adults, Jon's a scientist and Damian's a veterinarian. Najda likes visiting both of her Dads at their day jobs after school and doing her homework while they work. She always promises to behave and not get in the way and if she has no work to do, she'll help them out too, which they appreciate. She also loves watching what they do and let's them happily explain their favorite stuff about the job to her. She knows a lot about taking care of animals and science because of this.

Nadja loves music and making it too. She even thinks about playing rock music for a living when she grows up. Damian and Jon support her in this and buy her the instruments she needs and they also listen to her songs when she wants to show it off to them. Because of them being in a band themselves back when they were kids, Damian, Jon, Chris, and Jake give her lessons sometimes on how to better play her instruments.

Civilians and especially interviewers always question about how they had Nadja and just assume that she's adopted or assume that just because she looks more like Damian, she's probably from a secret ex girlfriend he had before being with Jon. The last one annoys both Damian and Jon so much, especially Jon since Nadja is actually his kid too and he gets jealous at the thought of the ridiculous idea. Both him and Damian hate these rumors and just want everyone to mind their own business.

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russellsppttemplates · 6 months

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Making do (George Russell)

George moving to Monaco has a bigger impact than you anticipated

Note: english is not my first language. This is my attempt at getting back into writing, I hope this is half decent at least.

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: long distance relationship

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"Did you have a big day today?", your friend, "Actually, let me rephrase that. How big was your day today?", she chuckled. "I finally handed in the last paperwork so HR can process my transfer from departments, so hopefully in a week or so everything will be sorted, like accesses and all that", you explained, "but it's been good, you know? I've worked a lot towards this and to finally get it, it means a lot", you said, hearing your phone beep with a notification from your boyfriend, "is it your man?", your friend asked, smiling knowingly.

"Yes, George wants to go and have dinner to celebrate", you blushed, "he just texted me the details of the reservation so I can get ready on time", you said, setting your phone down after quickly replying to him that you would be ready by the time he would pick you up back at home.

"Whenever you need to go, let me know, but for now, I have this gossip I want to tell you, you'll never believe it", she smiled, warming her hands in her cup of coffee as she told you a out the latest rumours she heard in her office.

When the time came, you both said goodbye as you made your way to your and George's shared apartment, leaving your shoes and coat on the hallway closet and heading straight to the shared bedroom, taking your clothes off so you could shower. While the dinner wasn't a fancy occasion, you still wanted to dress nice and look good since it was a celebration still. Picking the dress from your wardrobe, you fastened the delicate zipper and tied the belt, looking at your self in the mirror as you soothed out the wrinkles.

It didn't take long before you heard George arrive, the clicking of the lock on the door catching your attention as you walked to the hallway, "hey, darling", George greeted, grabbing your hand and making you do a little spin, whistling after kissing your lips, "you look gorgeous", he complimented, "are you ready to go?".

"I'll just freshen up in the bedroom and then we can get going then", George said, quickly styling his hair and spraying on some extra cologne, "even though I don't think we need this, I want to say thank you for doing this", you mumbled against his hand laced in yours, kissing his knuckles as you walked out, "you deserve to be celebrated everyday, Y/N".

The monegasque sun was shinning despite the cold breeze caressing your skin. You and George had gone out for a run before you both had work meetings, deciding to stop in a little café to have breakfast out of the house for a change.

"It's still a nice day today, maybe later tonight we can plan something, hm?", your boyfriend suggested while you sipped your juice, "That's a good idea, yes", you smiled, looking at the crescent buzz, the city becoming alive as more people got up and headed on with their days.

"You have something on your mind, I can tell", you held your hand out on the table, his fingers finding yours and playing with them, "I do, actually", George cleared his throat, "I've been thinking a lot about this recently, and with the meetings I had last week, it became a bit more obvious to me where I am standing on this. I've been waiting to tell you once I had a more set opinion and I knew how things would play out, and I obviously care about your thoughts, too. I've been thinking about moving here", he stated, his eyes looking for your immediate reaction, "and I'd like you to move here with me, too".

It had always been a conversation the minute things started getting more serious, so it wasn't a shock per se. Most of his colleagues either lived in Monaco or spent a good part of the year there. The question wether you'd be sble to join him, however, was not such a sure topic.

"Obviously, I don't want to rush your decision, even though I'd love to have you here with me, and there are a lot of hoops to go through, but it's something to think about", George added, squeezing your hand in his, "yes, something to think about definitely".

"I can't go". That's what George heard from you as you sat at the dinner table. On his way from the factory and after he had sorted a few errands down on the new apartment in the principality, your boyfriend picked up your favourite take-away, and now you had dropped your decision. "I just got a work promotion, my friends are here, my family is here, too. I can't just leave, at least for now", you explained. "And I love you, so much, George, but I can't go, I can't leave here", you gulped, finally looking up to meet his eyes.

"That's okay, darling. We'll make this work, right?", he nudged. He didn't want to lose you, not at this expense, not ever, but right now, this seemed to have triggered a new fear.

"We'll do our best", you tried, "it's either making this work or breaking up, right?". The sentence left your mouth in the most innocent and naive way possible, but the words resonated with you and George.

"Can you promise me something?", George asked and you nodded, "you'll always talk to me the minute anything feels off, and I'll do the same with you", he stated, getting up and making you get up too, pulling you flush against his chest, kissing the top of your head.

"Deal", you smiled, resting your chin on his chest, "but you'll have to let me help decorate".

"The apartment feels lonely, I have to admit", George said over FaceTime as you both had dinner, him in Monaco and you in London. It had become the only time in the schedule where you were able to speak to eachother that wasn't in text form.

"It's the same here", you admitted, "feels way too big without you here, but we're making do, right?", you smiled, rolling the spaghetti on your fork.

You were making do until you weren't, that's what you thought as you drove to the airport to pick your boyfriend up. He was flying in today for the first time in a month, and the butterflies in your stomach weren't all just anticipation to finally see him. You had promised eachother that you would tell the other when it wasn't working and when you felt like things needed a change, and tonight would be exactly that. To prove yourself that it was just the distance and not something else entirely.

George walked through the terminal with his small carry-on bag, the buzz of the families gathering their children in one place and people collecting their bags behind him as he walked as fast as he could without running into anyone. He missed you loads, and part of him wishes you missed him like that, too, despite not liking the idea that, like him, you had spent nights up thinking about your relationship or that your work meetings were also interrupted by nagging thoughts and doubts about how you were doing the long distance relationship.

It didn't take him long to see you amongst the crowd. The later flight meant a lot less people in the airport when you compared to other situations where you picked him up, making it easy for him to reach you, "hey, darling", he hugged you, "I've missed you so much", he whispered into your hair.

Inhaling his scent brought you to a calmer state of mind. George was home and his presence alone would always make you feel at home no matter what, and maybe that was hard to admit, but equally necessary, "I missed you too, handsome. How was your flight?", you asked, hugging his waist as you walked to the carpark, "it was good, not too bumpy".

The ride to the apartment was filled with comfortable conversatiom, George's hand on your thigh as you drove while you chatted about what you heard on the radio, parking the car in the garage and heading up.

"I didn't know if you had eaten enough on the plane, so in case you were hungry, I made some extra food for dinner", you announced, "it's in the fridge if you'd like", while you stored your coat away in the hallway closet.

"I'm good, thanks. I've been thinking about some cuddles though", he mumbled, kissing your forehead and circling your waist, "to the sofa?", he wondered, guiding you both to sit against the soft pillows.

The feeling of being in your boyfriend's embrace after such a long time must've triggered your emotions, soon enough bringing tears to your eyes, "darling, what's the matter? Is something hurting you?", George asked, his thumbs coming up to wipe your tears.

"I know we promised to tell eachother right away, but I also wanted to give it time", you hiccuped, "and it wasn't the best idea, because I feel like this", your lip trembled.

George rubbed your back now, hoping to get you to breathe a little slower and calmer, "what have you been wanting to tell me?", he asked.

"We said we would be honest, so this is me being honest. I don't know about you, but I'm not enjoying being away from you. I knew it wouldn't be good, but I didn't think it would be this bad. And it's not fair to ask you to move back here, nor it is fair for me to have to go to you, so this is a big big whole mess", you explained, looking at George's somewhat stunned expression.

"I have to admit that I don't like it either, but it's like you say, it's not fair to ask either of us to move, not like this anyway", he tiptoed around the subject. He wanted you to be with him so badly he has most likely considered all of the possibilities to solve this situation, and very few of them actually seemed doable.

"So what do we do?", you asked, afraid of the answer you'd get, remembering the small joke you made about breaking up a few weeks ago, "darling, I love you so much, but we need to sort this out", you yelped.

Shuffling in his seat, George looked at the situation clearly, "I want you to feel comfortable, Y/N, and if this situation isn't doing that for you, then it needs sorting out. If there is anything we can do to make it better, I'm in. Darling, I'm all in of it helps us", he pleaded.

"I need to think about all of these things, all of these situations", you said, getting up, "I'm sleeping in the spare bedroom, okay?", you checked with George, "I love you and I need to figure this out on my own", you tried, hoping he would understand.

Nodding, your boyfriend noted his understanding, "of course, whatever it is to help us, I meant it", he got up, his hand brushing your hair behind your ear, "I love you, Y/N".

Walking to the spare bedroom didn't feel as lonely as you thought it would, most likely because you had grown accustomed to sleeping on your own, but knowing George was on the other side of the wall helped. He had been understanding and supportive, and to know that he was giving you time to think this through without any judgement or pressure.

It was weird for some people, but making a list of pros and cons for situations like this helped you decide. The written words and the way you weighed them in according to the different criteria allowed you to think about it. You saw your future with George in it, that was a no brainer, so there had to be wiggle room. Because you had a good relationship with your boss, the later hours on the clock didn't keep you from sending her an e-mail, her answer being one of the confirmations you needed.

Grabbing your phone, you checked the last time your parents had been online, pressing dial when you saw they were still awake, "hey guys, I have something to ask you", you began, "how bad would it be if I spent a little less time here?".

George woke up alone like he had fallen asleep. After getting ready, he headed to the kitchen, hearing a small noise from the spare bedroom as he thought you were just getting up, almost recognising which step you were in your routine by the noises.

"Good morning", you said, catching your boyfriend's attention as he buttered some toast, "hey, darling, did you have a good sleep?", he asked. He wanted to know if you had made a decision or reached a conclusion, but asking upfront wasn't the smoothest idea, he thought.

"I did okay", you fumbled with your feet, not knowing how to approach the situation, "I got an email from Anna", you said, seeing George's puzzled expression, "I asked her if I could work remotely, pop to the office every now and again, but mostly remote, and she said yes", you explained further, seeing his smile.

"I'm not doing this out of obligation, I'm doing this for me and for you too in a way, but because I want us to be okay, I want us to be good", you grabbed his hands, "and I'll still spend some time here, but it will be sporadic".

"This is great, you have no idea how much this means to me", George hugged you, "you're incredible, Y/N Y/L/N, and I'll never stop saying that".

"Only one thing, though", you tapped his nose, "my parents demanded that, since we're moving, that they can visit and whenever we're back home, mum wants to have dinner", you shrugged your shoulders as your boyfriend laughed, "Oh, what a bother to have to eat your mum's delicious cooking and your father's cheesecake"

#george russell imagine #george russell x reader #george russell fic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

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doomsday-dj · 5 days

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Yo. Bestie. Do you have any Rizzles author recommendations for me??

You have cruelly seduced me into this teeny-tiny-weeny fandom and now I have galloped my way through (almost) all of your brilliant body of work I am cast adrift and quickly finding out that "sort by kudos" simply does not bring up the goods here...

Help a gay out?

Oh fuck yeah, bestie. Yes. Do I ever!! I am about to WEAR OUT the link function. But before the recommendations: aw shucks and thank you and all that. Your comments this week have been a highlight. I'm sorry to have dragged you into this but hopefully this post makes up for it! I've been dabbling in some other fandoms lately, ones with a LOT of fics, and there's a lot of great writers out there, but I have to say that especially relative to how many fics there are, there's an outrageous amount of good writers who have written Rizzles.

Okay! So disclaimer that I’ve had a really ungodly amount of coffee today so if this is a little on the “un” side of hinged then I apologize. I am definitely gonna be REAL effusive. I was silly and shy about leaving comments and kudos when I first got on AO3 and now I make up for those crimes by being unabashedly keen.

I have gone and sorted by kudos (and, sidenote, discovered that I'm in the top 30????) and before I get to the under-appreciated bangers, I will say that plenty of my faves feature in the first two pages of sort by kudos (though their most kudosed work is almost never my fave one). Here I’m thinking of coolbyrne, @julieverne, DanteBeatrice77. All of these authors are awesome.

Also, amongst the highly kudosed works, Attachment by @performativezippers is a classic for in the fandom for good reason (and their Bachelor AU is a romp) and law of the lever by sharkfights is one of my favourites all time.

As for the other stuff, what do you WANT out of your fic, bestie?

You want the feelings? You want the beautifully written feelings? @ladyriot has got feelings FOR DAYS. If you want some one shots that will take you apart and put you back together, you’ve come to the right place. Good feelings, angsty feelings, all the feelings you need. My favourite is Let Our Hands Tell the Story but I recommend all of them. Mostly it's one shots but the one complete multi-chapter fic, Transference, is CRIMINALLY UNDERRATED. Less than 200 kudos?! Fuck all the way off. I don’t know if it’s because it’s an AU or if it’s because of the doctor/patient element but unless that’s a trigger, I promise you it it’s handled very artfully and also it’s fucking fiction and no patient’s rights were violated in the making of this fic. Oh and put your ink on my skin 'til it comes off on me is both devastating and stupid hot.

Haven’t had enough feelings?? Take your insufficiently battered heart over to @sideadde’s work. I especially like Who Needs Two Kidneys When Another Heart Can Be Had? and Immersion Therapy.

You want a big meaty casefic you can sink your teeth into?? Domini_porter’s CMYK is so goddamn good. The smutty chapters in this one are just...chef's kiss. Among my favourites all time. I am also entirely obsessed with their Victorian AU, which deserves more attention. Also if you want some crack-your-chest-open-and-pull-out-your-guts angst go alllll the way back to their first fics on AO3.

OH. @kurtsvonneslut too. I think and you cooled my mind that burned with longing is probably my favourite post-finale type fic, bit of an AU with some major canon changes. They also have an excellent picking-up-from-the-Jane-and-Maura-season-2/3-break-up casefic, A Crime of Passion, and they wrote a devastating exploration of PTSD that just...oooof.

God, I could really just keep going and going. And this is just on AO3!!! I feel like I could do a whole part two of this that's just flagging all the best stuff that's back on ff.net. I might have to because this is already really long. But I'm stopping for now. Thanks for the BEST ASK.

*dramatic stage whisper* psssst do you want smut? I feel like I could also do a whole post on smut alone. Maybe later.

Note: I’ve tagged authors if their tumblr name is the same as their ao3 name, because I assume they’re okay with being found. If any of you would like to be untagged from the post just DM me and I’ll do that lickety split.

#rizzoli and isles #rizzles #rizzles fanfic #rizzoli and isles fanfiction #ask doomsday #love nothing more than talking fanfic #DM or ask me for recommendations ANY TIME

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pinkslaystation · 13 days

Text

[Part 3] If I meant something to you.

toxic!Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Here's Part 1 and Part 2 hehehe enjoy ;> Word Count: 5k trigger warning: drugging. viewer discretion is adviced.

Dating Simon reminded you of the British economy, constant fluctuations.

He would stay over at your flat, shower you with wet kisses, and the next day he'd walk right past you as if you didn't exist.

It felt like at times Simon did really love you. He listened you to, he brushed and plaited your hair post sex, but sometimes it's like his brain would switch and his behaviour would mimic that of a ghost.

Though it been nearly 3 months since he'd popped that question in the car, you often found yourself regretting your decision.

"I do like him...but I mean- it's just, he doesn't like me back you know? Sometimes I wake up and he's just staring at me like I've just told him I've killed his dog. I mean, he doesn't have a dog I don't think, but if he did, he'd prefer the dog over me, y'know.

I don't even know why I said yes that day. I mean, he's the first real guy that's actually shown interest in me. Maybe that's why I crave his attention so much. He makes me actually enjoy being with my family, if that's so hard to believ-"

"With all due disrespect, d'ya know you?" Your neighbour answers finally.

You stare back, blood rushing to your face, "I literally live next door to you. I smile at you before I leave for work every morning-"

"So, there's nothing wrong with your face?

"What? You know me- and I'm talking about Simon, he's next door to me too..."

"What?"

"You know skull face..."

"Who?"

"Tall buff dude, y'know."

"Huh?

"Riley-"

"Oh, the guy with the big dick."

You choke on your saliva, "What- How? Um..."

"Military dude yeah? The fit blonde? Yeah, he's big, if you get what I'm saying, virgin."

You furrow your eyebrows, words trailing off, "No I'm not...I'm sorry, how'd you know..."

"Yeah, he's fucked like everyone in this building, girl. Why d'ya think he doesn't come to the flat meetings? 'Cos then he'd be surrounded by all the people he's stuck his dick in, duh." She states like it was the most obvious thing in the world, "Guy comes in, drinks a bit, and runs out."

"...I thought it was because he was nervous to see....me?" At this point, you don't know if you're telling your neighbour or asking her.

"Oh girl don't be delusional, you ain't no Beyonce. Anyway, been a while since I got that dick. Let 'im know next time you see 'im." She winks at you before, hobbling off with her walking stick.

"Yeah...sure...wait- Mrs Brenda, you're like 65... AND MARRIED-"

When the 3rd month anniversary mark finally reached, Simon decided to treat you to an expensive meal at a luxurious restaurant.

And by that I mean, 6 McNuggets at Maccies.

"They're cold, babe." He complains, slouching across you, one leg bent and propped on his seat.

Yes, Simon. Because you spent 15 minutes arguing with the worker for an extra packet of mayo. But you refrained yourself from saying that, in case you'd anger him further.

"So how's the task force?"

You've learnt very little about Simon, one part that stuck out to you was that the people he was closest to was his team in the military, naming his Captain John Price, who seemed to pop up in every conversation the two of you had.

"You got that 'lil mustache on yer face again."

"Excuse me?"

"Nah babe, it's cute. Reminds me of Captain's."

It hurt even more when he showed you a picture of John Price and you're face to face with a middle aged man with a full grown beard, who's being compared to the peach fuzz on your upper lip.

"Team's good." He sighs out of exhaustion. "Soap's engaged now, y'know."

You smile, mind suddenly racing to the thought of Simon proposing to you, but you shake it away, oddly cringing at the thought.

"'Old man's thinking of getting transferred to the States. Finally..."

The thought of Simon being jealous over his Captain was always a hidden theory for you. He'd mention it so frequently, it was as if he was keeping tabs on his superior, bringing it up at every moment at his signs of weakness. And when he'd compare Price to you, it was never in a positive light, rather one where it felt like he was looking down at Price, but through you.

You wondered if Simon had a superiority complex, and maybe that's why he'd chosen a little naive lamb like you, to project all of his insecurities onto you.

I mean, you're not gonna do anything about it are you? Nah, you're gonna take it like the good little girl you are.

I mean you are right now- literally.

His dick is cramped right in your pussy, his rounded tip rapidly kissing at your cervix. His chapped lips crash against yours, but you can't seem to ignore the faint taste of his Big Mac through his mouth.

"Can tell your cunt likes that, 'lil slut." He seethes out, through inconsistent breaths. You can barely hear him, through the sound of your sweaty bodies colliding and the ringing through your head.

You hum uncomfortably. It was gonna be a long night.

The following weekend, you find yourself spending eons getting dolled up for a get together at the base. You decorated your face with a bold smokey eye, paired with a lined red lip, only to be mocked by Simon.

"Red? We're going to base, not the circus."

So you take off the lipstick. And the eye makeup. In fact, even when you changed from a tight black pencil skirt to a matching sweatshirt and joggers combination, you still find yourself being berated by Simon.

"Getting kinda lazy with the clothes huh, love?" He asks, cocking his eyebrows towards you.

Is he for real?

Grunting in response, you look out the window, shoving your headphones in, grateful for the noise cancelling feature so you wouldn't have to sit through Simon's mouth breathing throughout the journey.

The meeting itself was as awkward as imagined. The moment the pair of you entered the room, Simon decided to detach his arm wrapped around your shoulder and immediately brisk walk to the nearest woman possible. If he was trying to fool his team to thinking he was single...boy was he good at it.

Being left out in an unfamiliar space was unfortunately not too foreign for you, and you quickly found solace by the water fountain, sipping on a plastic cup of lukewarm water.

"Bored, eh?"

You jump, having zoned out.

You turn to a man you've seen oh so many times on Simon's phone.

"Captain John Price?" You smile.

"The one and only, lass. My, a pair of sweatpants. Priorising comfort, are we?" He jokes, lightly.

"Were you expecting lingerie?"

"Pretty either way." He chuckles, and you eye the way his eyes squint as he smiles, and the smile lines painting his cheeks. You shouldn't be looking at your boyfriend's competition captain this way.

You're at peace with John. You find yourself opening up about yourself, something you now know you couldn't truly do around Simon. John cared about what you said, reacting to every joke you dropped here and there, unlike Simon, who plays connect the dots with your forehead blemishes as you rant passionately.

John chuckles, "Oh God. Work sounds intense."

You hum, admiring his laughter, which cuts off to the sound of a loud buzzing (buttplug?) coming from his back pocket. He excuses himself from the conversation, but you can't help but eavesdrop.

"John Price speaking. Yes. Uh huh-what? Another soldier? Same substance? Christ's sake...Doctor's got a name? Succiny- Succinylc- what? Okay, okay. I'm coming, gimme 20 minutes-what, now? I'm...busy" He turns to flash you a small smile, "Okay, fine. Dammit."

"You okay, seemed urgent?"

He dramatically sighs, "We both got work problems...There's been a...how do i say this...another one of our soldiers have been getting drugged?" It sounds more of a question than an answer, "We think it's some sort of new drug on the black market, and now that our enemy's have a hold of it, our soldiers...fuck, getting drugged left, right and centr- Sorry, um, unauthorized information..." He trails off, realising he's said too much.

You're ears perk up, "Drugs? What are the um, symptoms?" You can't help but be curious.

John looks around, as if to check if anyone was listening to the conversation, though most people are hammered on hardcore liquor and cigarettes. He lowers his voice, "Starts off with headaches, nausea, then there's seizures...worst case scenario is paralysis. Gotten 4 of our soldiers already, poor men, had to be medically dismissed...."

You hum, silently and unsure of what to reply with. If you were attempting to flirt with John, the mood had definitely dissipated.

"But hey, listen. You ever need a change of pace, a better job, you can call me." He grabs your hand, and messily writes his phone number with a biro, winking before he leaves.

Maybe you will call him.

As the sky becomes darker and the clock strikes past 9 P.M., you find yourself walking outside the building, searching for Simon.

"...annoying."

Huh? You peer over the corner to overhear the conversation. Was that Simon?

"..follows me around a sad 'lil shit."

Was he talking about you?

You catch a quick glance, confirming that it was indeed a drunk Simon, with who you believe was Soap.

"Her mum's hotter, too. All over me." Simon boasts, whipping out his phone, presumably to show them a picture of your mother, as it sparks a 'milf alert' comment from Soap.

"...nothing compared to her. She's like a doormat."

You look at Simon, and for a second, you swear he made deliberate eye contact with you.

"She's fuckin' spineless."

For a moment, time pauses.

...

Spineless.

You're spineless.

I mean, it may be true. But the truth doesn't always have to come out, no?

After doing so much for this man, you'e still...spineless?

Laying at the comfort of your bed, dragging a tipsy Simon out of the car and him rushing to his flat, you find yourself gazing down at the smudged ink on your palm. Maybe it's time to switch your job.

Who knows who you'll run into...

That night, you rest, dreaming about John Price.

You're in an abyss in your dreams, John's pale muscular arms wrap around your frame, with the faint scent of cigars and whisky wafting around your nose. You blink and you see the bottom of his groomed beard, and small smile resting on his tired face.

You blink once more. But this time, you don't see John Price. This time, you're staring into the sullen eyes of a skeleton-masked man, lifelessly staring straight at you with no emotion. You look down the body of Simon.

The lower half of his body was missing.

By the third blink, you jolt awake and look around, but this time you're on the floor wrapped in your quilt and covered in sweat. Very much alone.

What was this dream trying to tell you?

The jump from retail to cyber-operations was large and challenging. You went from serving customers to quite literally serving the country, from scanning items to defending the weapon's system. But 2 weeks into your new career and you feel like you've actually put your degree to some use.

Your family have been ringing you almost weekly, asking about your new position, although it's mainly your mother interrogating you about Simon.

And to say he was upset with your choice of working with the army, was an understatement, in his words, he felt like you were crowding him in all areas of his life. His home, his workplace, and now his mind.

You'd ask him to drop you off, considering he's going the same way, but he'd come up with unjustified excuses.

"Can't. Need to be there early."

"Nah, gonna distract me, love."

"Can't be seen with you." He mutters the last one, but you're not deaf and Simon can't exactly whisper very well. Sometimes you wonder why you haven't broken up with him.

So you've resorted to the next option.

Public transport. Calling John Price.

"You're not a burden, sweetheart. Who's been tellin' you that?"

You subordinate <3 But you can't say that, so you resort to casually laughing at his question. You can't help but think about the reoccurring dream you've been having, they always start the same.

You're in a abyss, and you're in the arms of John Price, you blink and suddenly face to face with the half-corpse of Simon. You're struggling to work out the deeper message of the visio-

"Love, you there? Went to lala-land or something?"

Think about John Price. Focus on him, why are you still bound to that jerk? You think.

"I'm good. So uh, how's the situation with you? And the um...drugs thing?" You look at him, your words surprising yourself, since when did you have an interest in drugs?

"Oh, uh. We're not allowed to disclose that sweetheart...besides, Simon didn't tell you? Kinda big thing here..."

Of course, Simon wouldn't tell me, why would he? You tell me, John.

You give him your best puppy dog eyes, eyebrows knitting together, "Oh..."

He runs his thick fingers through his brunette hair, adjusting himself in his seat, "Succinylcholine. There's a mixture, but that's the main component. Causes paralysis to the legs and spine...seems like that's what they wanted, to paralyse our soldiers, 7th victim this we..."

Paralysis huh. You turn to look at the passing trees outside the windows. Paralysis to the spine and legs...

By the time you reach work, you're at your computer by your desk, typing away at the lines of code on your programme, once again eavesdropping to the conversations in your vicinity.

"...it's the same location they keep getting deployed, why are they getting deployed there again?"

"Captain Price is going this time..."

"...2nd guy's in a coma now..."

The chatter dies down to the loud slam of the door: Your supervisor.

"People. Come on. Chop chop, we have deadlines to meet. Stop the chatter, fucks sake."

You get back to your screen, but you can't help but shake the unsettling feeling off your mind.

Ding!

11:26 A.M. Si:- Come outside on your break. Need to talk.

I guess you're finally breaking up.

"Getting deployed."

Simon's scarred hands caress yours, gently lifting your ring finger and slotting a shiny silver ring, with a skull stuck in the center. You think back to the times where you told Simon that you preferred gold jewelry over silver, since it complimented your skin tone better. To love is to be seen I guess.

A crowd of soldiers begin whistling at the scene, and Simon retracts his hands almost instantaneously.

"Wanted to give this to you for anniversary...but I ordered it a little late."

You hum, immediately twisting the ring around your ring. It's tight and cramped.

"How's work?" He asks, his eyes roaming around the people behind you, his gaze not falling on you once since the conversation had started.

"Oh it's goo-"

"Cool. So um, here's my key if you need something." He hands you his key, more like shoving it into your chest, before pressing a chaste kiss on your forehead and running off towards the crowd of soldiers that were now practicing drills.

Seems like you've gotten promoted from girlfriend to house-keeper.

By 8 P.M., you and a handful of your colleagues began to go home.

With your 4th cup of caffeine in your hand, you check Simon's text once more.

7:52 P.M. Si:- What time u finish Si:- 8? Si:- Too long to wait, going home

He couldn't wait 8 minutes?

As you trudge past the empty hallway, you're met face to face with the door of the lab, which you notice was half open.

You felt like a character in Alice in Wonderland. Trespassing is a crime, is it not?

A normal person would just inform a staff member and go home right? Definitely wouldn't enter the room. And definitely wouldn't head straight towards the counter that held various labelled test tubes.

Definitely wouldn't snatch a test tube labelled danger, and most definitely stuff it in their bag and run out the door, as if they haven't basically committed a crime.

But it's a good thing you wouldn't consider yourself a normal person.

The wind blows against your skin when you finally make it outside, and it feels like natures punishing you for breaking into the army's laboratory. With your bag clutched tightly against your chest, your mind begins racing - what if someone saw you? What about cameras? What if-

"There you are love. Thought I'd have to come 'n get you myself."

John leans against his range rover, wrapping his large military jacket around your shoulders, and you instantly lean into his towering frame.

"John...didn't you go home?"

He shakes his head. "Saw Simon speeding off the moment we finished, thought you needed a ride, especially at this time."

The wind blows against you again, and your smile falters, remembering the contents of your bag.

"Can we go home now? Please?"

A comforting silence accompanied the drive, with John's palm ghosting your thigh ever so slightly and you had to resist every urge in your body to just lock hands with him.

So you do.

His large hand encompassing yours completely. If his grin could widen anymore, they just did, and you swear you could see faint dimples decorating his cheeks.

But they fall just as quickly, jerking his hand back.

"Nice ring."

You're visibly confused, eyes dragging back to the tight skull band wrapped around your ring finger.

Fuck you, Simon.

When you exit John's car at the entrance of the block of flats, your eyes catch another deep brown pair of menacing eyes, standing at the balcony, hiding behind a black balaclava. You can't see the lower portion of the face, but you'd bet your life that there was a smirk hidden behind the cloth.

You grit your teeth, tossing the ring by the nearest bush as the car drives off. The grip around your bag tightens, and you remember the test tube.

If you're going to ruin my chances of love, I'll ruin your chances of life, Simon Riley.

A week later and the test tube lay aimlessly on your bedside time, alongside a small post card gifted yesterday from your truly. John Price, that is, not Simon.

Leaving soon - If I find something you like, I'll bring it for you :-D - J Price

Even the way he drew his little smiley faces warmed you.

On the other hand, Simon had shot you a single text, ignoring all the spelling mistakes.

Si:- bee home ina mont. by.

When he gets home, you're immediately breaking up with him, assigning yourself mental homework.

But for the meanwhile, you have to decide what to do with the test tube...for now you decide it's too risky to keep it at home, who knows if the wrong people get their hands on it.

So you opt to shoving into deep into your purse.

At work, as you walk back to your team's common room, you hear the commotion coming from the...laboratory?

"Doctor, how careless are you?"

"Sir...I-I-I didn't do anything! The lab was locked, I don't know who would have taken it-"

"And how are we sure you haven't stolen it? I mean for all we know, you might have the drug at home. How do we know you're a traitor and working for the other side. I should have you reported."

"Boss, you've known me for the longest! And why don't you stop shouting me and get these cameras fixed already-"

"Captain Price's gonna flip and fire his entire team when he comes back-"

"If he comes back that is-"

"Boy if you don't shut your mout-"

Scurrying to the common room, you shut the door abruptly. You don't why you stole the drug, but you do know you can't let anyone find out about what you did.

Not Simon.

Not John.

A month had nearly gone by, and a train of gifts has began coming, from small affirmation notes to bags of lego flower bouquets and teddy bears. All of course, accompanied by a small note with the signature smiley face :-D.

Considering the notes weren't hand written, you couldn't tell whether it was from Simon or John, though it was quite obvious. Even though you liked John, you couldn't help but feel some sort of sorrow towards Simon. I mean, who else does he have apart from you?

On a dark Friday evening while you and your team were getting ready to leave, the sound of shouting followed by stampede coursed through the hallway. Screams of terror broke from whom you made out to be doctors and nurses.

"What's happening?" You turn to your coworker.

"More people have gotten drugged, like 7 this time..."

You couldn't help but feel a wave of guilt washing over you, considering a sample of the weapon of the crime was quite literally concealed with your belongings.

"Oh -"

"Apparently, Captain Price and Liutentant Riley were involved."

That was enough to strike a nerve. You don't know which name hit you harder, but before your colleague could even stop you, you began sprinting down the hallway towards the hospital rooms.

By the time you reach though, it's already too late, and the doors have shut, the nurse informing you that surgeries have already begun undergoing. But for who, they didn't disclose.

It didn't matter who it was, you just had a reoccurring thought that if maybe you had left the sample alone, maybe a curve could have already been developed.

Oh God, this is your fault isn't it....?

A person's going to die in your hands, and you're not even a soldier.

With discomfort running through your nerves, you sit by the hospital rooms, your hands feeling heavy under the weight of your head, waiting to hear more from the nurses. But as they rush in and out of the room with urgency, your voice gradually drowns out by the monotonous beeping of the machines inside.

4 hours go by, and you can't tell if it from the lack of sleep or not, but the staff around you shoot you looks of pity as if you're in critical condition. Those hours in the waiting room felt like hell, and you couldn't help but notice the lack security in the building. No cameras again, huh?

"Nurse, is John Price in there?" You ask wearily, the strain in your voice was evident.

The nurse shakes her head, "It's Lieutenant Riley."

Your breath hitches, and unfortunately you can't help but a slight feeling of relief.

"Is he okay? Was he...drugged?"

The nurse clenches her jaw, "That information can't be disclos-"

"He's my boyfriend." You urge, standing up to meet the nurse eye to eye.

The palpable tension in the air was uncomfortable and pervasive, hanging over the room like a heavy fog, and the nurse eventually breaks, slowly opening the door to what looked like a corpse.

"No traces of the drugs were found in his body, but there's no way to really say in the early stages...He is displaying some symptoms however..." She reads off a clipboard.

You nod, though her words aren't really getting to your head, "Like...paralysis?" There's no movement from the bed, just the constant ringing from the machines.

The nurse pauses, "No. Headaches, and muscle pain, just the regular. Bullet shot in the shoulder, but that's been taken care off. We're still monitoring him. I'll be outside if you need anything." With that she leaves, shutting the door behind you. And you find yourself alone with Simon's corpse.

Simon's face looks like broken china, like fine art but damaged externally, yet still holding the essence of its beauty within. His features, usually composed and serene, now bore the cracks of strain and worry. His under eyes were now darker than ever, and you couldn't help but press your now tear soaked lips across his rough cheek, until you stopped.

His neck, though scarred, bore scattered red marks, which you know could be confused with a rash. But it wasn't.

They were hickies.

Fresh hickies.

It's been a month since you've last seen Simon, so you immediately rule out yourself, disregarding the fact that you haven't even been intimate with anyone in a while.

As you sit beside the bed, a surge of anger rises within you, fueled by the betrayal and disappointment coursing through your veins. You want nothing more than to confront Simon, to unleash a torrent of accusatory questions upon him, but you know it would be futile.

His chest rises and falls gently, a stark contrast to the turmoil raging within you.

The situations looks like that particular scene straight from your dreams. Dark room, alone with Simon, him laying there still.

His body is still intact, you think. Intact and littered with marks.

You try to recall what happens in the dreams after this, but you always wake up at the last second.

And you can't help but inch your hand towards your purse., the outline of the test tube screaming at you to finally use it.

Use it for the reason you had originally stolen it for.

Use me.

Drug him. It screams. It's not like he ever loved you? Francesca, remember her? The other women? Your own mother, your own flesh and blood? Think about the times he forgot your anniversary, your birthday, when he insulted you, in front of you, in front of others, hell, even behind your back! You're spineless remember.

I mean you'd be doing the world a favour, getting rid of this from this world, wouldn't you?

Wouldn't you.

John Price would be proud of you wouldn't he?

He finally be with you.

With a steady hand, you reached into your purse and retrieved the test tube, its contents glinting in the dim light of the hospital room. You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest, before steeling yourself and uncapping the tube.

The acrid scent of the drug filled the air, its toxic fumes making you gag slightly. But you pushed past the discomfort, focusing all your attention on the task at hand. With precision, you extracted the entire liquid from the tube and carefully poured it into Simon's IV drip, mentally wincing at how effortlessly you had manipulated the situation.

You have to get rid of the drug somehow, and if it means using it against him, then so be it.

The next morning had come and you're awaken by the phone buzzing by your bedside table, the screen lighting up with John's name. You hesitate, your fingers hovering over the screen for a moment before you finally answer, steeling yourself for whatever news awaits you on the other end of the line.

"Hello?" Your voice comes out strained, betraying the anxiety churning within you.

"Hey angel, it's me," John's voice crackles through the phone, the urgency in his tone palpable. "You need to come to the hospital. It's Simon."

Without a word, you hang up the phone and hail a cab, the journey to the hospital passing in a blur of anxious thoughts and racing heartbeat. Did they find out you stole the drugs? No...how could they? The empty test tube is in your bin, at home, not at the hospital and there's no cameras at you recall...

Arriving at the hospital, you're met with a scene of controlled chaos. Doctors and nurses bustle about, their faces tense with worry. You navigate through the maze of corridors, the familiar scent of antiseptic hanging heavy in the air.

Finally, you reach Simon's bedside, and what you see makes your heart drop into the pit of your stomach. Simon manually lies propped up against the pillows, his face pale and drawn, his body racked with violent tremors as he retches into a basin. The sight is enough to make you physically ill, although it slowly dissipates, seeing the now purple marks on his necks darkening.

John appears beside you, and without a word, he takes your hand in his, his grip steady and reassuring, pressing a small kiss at the side of your head. In that fleeting moment, the world falls away, leaving only the two of you suspended in time.

"I'll be outside," he mumbles, leaving with you with Simon.

With a heavy heart, you take a seat beside him. Simon looks up at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of confusion. It takes all your strength to meet his gaze, the truth burning like acid on your tongue.

"Hey." He groans out. He can barely move, as his head painfully cranes to look at you, the effects of the drugs taking effect slowly.

"What happened." But it's more of a demand than a question.

Simon sniffs, "Traces of drugs..."

"No. I meant your neck."

He pauses, like he was trying to carefully choose his words, though he didn't have much of a escape now.

"Don't act like I see you and Price-"

"Don't bring him into this, Simon."

Don't lie to me anymore.

A tear rolls down his cheek, but you can't tell if it's crocodile tears or not.

"They-they... dismissed me."

You hum, a smirk gradually building up on your face.

"Why?"

Simon closes his eyes, "Back. My spine. Can't move it..."

You let out a slow, deep breath, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you like a heavy stone.

"I know." Your voice is barely above a whisper, but the words hang heavy in the air between you. "I drugged you."

Simon's eyes wince once again, studying your face silently.

"Excuse me?" He begins.

You stand up, placing your purse back on your shoulder.

"What- what do you mean? You he-heard me? Love. Listen to me-"

You walk towards the door.

"WAIT. Wait. What do you mean you knew? You said you knew. What. What did you do. Sweetheart. Come back. Let's talk. You love me don't you? I love you! Where's that ring I gave you?"

You laugh, twisting the door handle.

"Baby, you better not fuckin' leav- THEY'LL FIND OUT-"

"And who's going to believe a damaged, deluded man, Simon Riley? You were out on a mission, I'll pin the blame on the enemies."

Simon shakes in his bed, unable to control any part of his body now. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME- HOW FUCKIN' DARE YOU- After that life I gave you-"

"Life? You call that living?"

"I LOVED YOU WHEN NO ONE ELSE DID-" His voice is painfully loud now, you're wondering how no one's running to his room already.

"Love? You don't know one thing about love, you fucker."

"I should have never fucked you, you- YOU BITCH-" He shouts, his body flailing violently, globes of tears racing down his clenched jaw and red cheeks.

"Rot in hell Simon Riley, I guess we're both fucking spineless now."

And that's a wrap for this mini seriesss - thank all of you for sticking around ;D IM AWARE IT TOOK SO LONG- I KEPT WRITING IT AND FOR SOME REASON IT DIDN'T AUTOSAVE LIKE TWICE??? SO I HAD TO REWRITE IT- Quick Notes: Let's all be real. We wanted reader to get with ol' john boy. But let's also be for real, if Reader was an object, she'd be a doormat. Although I've implied John Price x You, the bitch really needs to focus on herself and sort her shit out right now 💀 in the near future they're together for sure. ALSO the reference of drugs is highly inaccurate but let's all switch our imaginations on <3 lemme know you're interested to be tagged in my future posts! tags -> @lilliumrorum, @kxtz3, @poohkie90, @rainlovesyou12 , @restrictionsapply-blog , @lunamoonbby , @nigthmar3moon , @thychuvaluswife , @itsnourm , @bubusi11, @owkittie, @cheomain , @corvusmorte , @k4es , @mandythemint , @copiasratscheese , @yyiikes , @funkyyysho3s

#call of duty #cod #ghost angst #ghost #simon riley #john price #ghost cod #ghost x reader #captain john price #call of duty modern warfare #john price x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon angst #simon ghost riley

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ladelinee · 5 months

Text

Authors note: Here it is! My first fanfic! It took me a long time I know, I blocked myself a bit at the end 😅. But it’s done. enjoy cuties!❤️ (and sorry if there are any grammar mistakes)

Word count: 3,5K

Warnings: intrusive thoughts, teasing, cussing, smoking.

All shook up

As I walked through the lobby, the click-clack of my heeled shoes broke the silence, almost like a constant drumbeat. It was just another day, another challenge.

I was staring into a blank space as if I were out of myself. Since its opening two years ago, the International has become one of the busiest hotels in Las Vegas. The reason? Elvis Presley.

His name was on everyone's lips, from my boss to the guests trying to find out more about him, it's a shame that I haven’t met him yet. And now, there I was: A young lady Guest Relations Manager having recently transferred two months ago into this male-dominated company. I often feel that the staff looked down upon me, seeing me as the mere "young and cute bossy girl." I felt that they were not taking me seriously and disregarded my suggestions. That was why I had to hide who I really am and present myself as a serious and professional person, to be respected.

At the entrance to the casino, I spotted Alex, one of my few friends here. He's the typical guy saving money for university, not taking the job too seriously but very friendly with me. A charming guy, though, nonetheless. His hidden talent is his ability to perfectly imitate Elvis, which he loves to show off whenever he can. Alex walked over to me with a big smile on his face.

"Heyy there she is, ya heard the King's comin' tonight? He's bringin' his mafia along. Ya know, with all this media buzz around him and the big show tomorrow night, he's gonna need special attention. The boss wants us to hold off the media too, so let's make sure his stay at the hotel is smooth. Hope we can make 'em feel welcome and without any troubles, ya hear baby?" He said mimicking Elvis’s southern accent to make it more interesting.

Suddenly, my heart skipped a beat. Elvis is coming. My hands began shaking and my mind was suddenly filled with a flurry of thoughts and insecurities. I've been a huge fan of him for years and was excited to see him in person, but this was different. I was here for work and was supposed to treat him the same way I would any other guest. But that thought only made my heart race even faster. It was going to be a tough night indeed.

“Are you serious?? Alright, we better start organising everything!” I said, stepping away from Alex. It was time to get started with the preparations. I had to handle everything; managing the media, securing the privacy of the other guests in the hotel, and, of course, ensuring Elvis Presley received a warm welcome at the International.

After a few hours passed, everything was in order. I started putting on my best uniform with a black blazer and skirt. I spent extra time doing my makeup, redressing my lips several times as I was feeling shaky.

My office phone rang, shaking me out of my reverie: "International Hotel, y/n speaking, what can I help?" I answered gently.

My boss cut through the pleasantries and interrupted my peace with a breathless "Elvis is in the building." Taken aback, I paused momentarily, then jumped to my feet and rushed to catch the elevator.

I found myself on the 30th floor, and all the elevators were moving very slowly, making frequent stops on each floor. In an anxious hurry, I furiously pressed the button with the feeling that my life depended on it, hoping to rush down and introduce myself to Elvis Presley. My limbs trembled, my heart was about to break free of my chest, and my breathing was quick and shallow. It was a sea of scenarios going through my mind, and I was pondering the best way to address Elvis politely.

Alex met me on my way down the elevator. Before I could say any word he said: "Hey! Where have you been? You missed Elvis Presley; he's so kind! He was very tired so he went straight to the penthouse. The Colonel asked not to disturb him, though" as the elevator began to descend again.

A wave of emotions washed over me and my stomach dropped when I realized I had missed my opportunity to meet him. I took a deep breath and tried to remain professional as the elevator doors opened and I faced my next challenge: keeping my cool, doing my job and dealing with my angry boss whose wrath I was surely to face after arriving late.

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

Sitting in my office during the night shift was torture. Boredom plagued me and the regret of not having met Elvis was too much to bear. I swore under my breath, angry at myself. The hours of the night seemed unendurable. What if I go up to the penthouse? It will get things worse… I knew this was my role and I would have to suck it up by behaving myself.

My frustration with the situation was growing and I kicked a nearby table, the sound echoing through the office. I stared at my reflection in the mirror and called myself silly for missing out on such an opportunity. Abruptly, the floor began to shake violently. I waited for a second to see if I had caused it with my kick on the table, but no, it was an earthquake! As the shaking increased, I scrambled around the hotel, searching for a safe place to wait out the disaster.

In a rush to evacuate, I made my way down the emergency stairs. Since I was relatively new to the hotel, I quickly got lost, the immense size of the building was contributing to my feeling of disorientation.

After several minutes of wandering in the dark, I spotted a dim light coming from a nearby door, the glow invited me to investigate further. Filled with curiosity, and desperate to make sense of my surroundings, I opened the door to take a closer look.

I cautiously entered the room, relieved to find the earthquake had ended, but my sense of relief quickly faded when a deep and gruff voice spoke out from the darkness.

"Hey, darlin'" The voice caught me off-guard and sent a shiver of unease down my spine.

“My, my, you're a jumpy one, aren't ya?” the deep voice replied from the darkness.

I shot back, “Well, excuse me, I wasn't expecting some kind of mysterious man in the darkness.”

I thought it might be Alex attempting to pull a silly joke on me and I was starting to feel a little annoyed. "Anyway, what are you doing here?" I inquired in a slightly irritated tone, assuming it was just a prank, considering that it was a difficult area to reach. “Seriously, Alex? Let’s go back to work and make sure everyone is safe. I didn’t have a good day and this is the last thing I need”

The figure got closer to me, gently pushed away my hair and whispered into my ear: "Sure thing, boss". I could feel his warm breath in my neck and sense the amusement in his voice, as if it were a game.

After a moment, the figure took a step back and lit a cigar, held between two ringed fingers and turned over to switch on a little lamp. When the smoke cleared, I saw the face of Elvis, with his captivating blue eyes, dark hair, perfect nose and lips. I was mesmerized by his smile, his voice was still ringing in my ears and the smoke from his cigar filled the air.

To my surprise, I discovered Elvis dressed in a black and red robe, accompanied by golden slippers. I could perceive a white item beneath the robe, but it was difficult to make out any more due to its loose cut. Furthermore, his bare, hirsute chest was appealing, and it was all that I could focus on.

My body was flooded with adrenaline, as if about to burst. I felt intimidated by Elvis's physical presence but also filled with excitement and an intense attraction. I was frozen, unable to process what was happening, my blood boiling with a cocktail of emotions.

Elvis noticed my reaction.

"Ahh, so you do know who I am?" Elvis purred, the deep voice sending a shiver of anticipation down my spine.

With a sly grin, he leaned in close, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispered, "Sweetheart, I have to admit, I'm really enjoying this game. You're making this really fun to play."

He took a step back and blew out a big puff of cigar smoke, smiling broadly, savouring the moment and taking enjoyment in my reaction.

Even if I wanted to scream and go to his arms, I had to remain calm and professional. Actually, not reacting would be a nice strategy as he will see that his play game is not working.

“Mr. Presley, nice to meet you… unfortunately under these circumstances. I am glad you are enjoying the premises of this hotel. I would never have guessed you were in... in… “- damn, I didn't even know where I was.

“In the backstage of the showroom?” He chuckled.

“Hell, I’m more than enjoying the hotel, sugar. I gotta say the International is quite lovely. The room is very good and inviting. The bed is…” He changed his facial expression as if he was aware of something and started staring at my body while walking around me. “Oh boy, so comfortable and tender. I would sleep in there all night”

Is he talking about the hotel? I was getting confused by his words.

“Okay, the lobby was nice, but now, ya'll have to excuse my language, darlin', but the hallways in this hotel” Elvis pauses, his tone turning even friskier, his gaze never left my body, running from top to bottom and back again.

"The hallways are… oh gosh, phenomenal. And then the casino... the casino, dear god, that place is…” He takes a moment to catch his breath, his eyes moving slowly across my body once again.

"It's like a playground for sin, darlin', and I could be playing for hours.” He pauses, smiling slyly as he lets the words sink in and stare at my eyes.

Right, he is definitely not talking about the hotel.

Before I could even consider how to respond to what I had just heard, our feet began to feel a familiar vibration. The earthquake was back and even more intense than the previous one. As I noticed a tower of precariously stacked chairs near the door begin to shake, I realized that they were about to fall towards us. Elvis acted quickly, grabbing me and pulling me to the ground for safety.

All I heard was an abundance of noise, and I could not see any clear semblance of my surroundings. This was primarily due to Elvis's arms and body shielding me for protection, blocking my view. With my eyes tightly closed, I waited until the violent shaking ceased.

"There you go. Now we can finish our little talk, 'ya alright, baby?" Elvis whispered. I cracked my eyes open when the commotion ceased, finding Elvis on top of me. He was supporting himself with his arms each just inches apart from both sides of my face, close to either cheek, leaving me speechless. I had never been so close to him before, I could feel his accelerated breath and smell his cologne - a combination of manly and clean and woody scents mixed with cigar aroma that had a truly captivating effect on me.

I felt something cold against my chin, and when I took a quick peek, I saw a golden necklace dangling from his neck. It gave me a quick peek of his bare chest, I had to struggle to control my blushes.

Reality hit me hard. If my boss found out that Elvis was injured and I didn't do anything to help him, I would be in a whole lot of trouble.

"Mr. Presley!" I exclaimed with a panicked tone. "Are you hurt? I am so sorry; it's me who should've looked after you. Please let me help you," I continued, as the anxiety consumed my body.

Elvis's smile faded from his face, as he focused on something else. This worried me since I didn't know what he was looking at. Was I bleeding or something?

To my surprise, he put his hand on my chest. My heart started to race. "Well, bless my soul! What a fine name you got Miss y/n y/ln" he said, reading my employer badge. His smile returned, leaving me feeling a bit flustered and exposed.

"Mr. Presley, I understand that you wish to learn my name, but I don't believe it is the best time for that" I responded in an attempt to maintain my cool.

“Please Mr. Presley, let me check if you are alright” I requested, trying to free myself from him. “Sorry this place is a bit tight I can’t barely move if you could please stand for a second…”

Elvis chuckled again, his eyes were sparkling with mischief. “Oh darlin’ I ain’t hurt. But I appreciate your care. Don't ya worry, I've been in tighter spots than this" he said, standing up and walking over to the wall.

I couldn’t help but feel anger rising within me; I was convinced that he treated every woman in the same manner. Despite those emotions, I desired his compliments to keep coming; had I become insane?

"I think I need to leave to make sure that everyone is safe," I said, cutting him off. Setting my pride and responsibilities as my top priority.

“Darlin’ don't even try and hide it, ya know you’re blushing like a damn beetroot” He gave me a naughty smirk.

I looked at him, and I walked towards the door, intending to leave the room. I felt like he was objectifying me, and I was not going to allow such a thing. “Good night, Mr Presley” I replied politely.

“Hey hold your horses lil’ lady! And please call me Elvis”. He continued, his tone more relaxed and friendly after seeing my reaction.

With a sense of courage, I grabbed the door handle, ready to exit the room and leave Elvis behind. I wondered what would happen next. I wasn’t sure if I was going to be strong enough to deal with my boss and meet Elvis’s requests. Maybe the best choice would be to resign. Yet, I was still waiting for him to beg me: "Please don't go, please don't go." He had me completely hooked already. And then…

The door was locked.

“C’mere sweetheart, m’sorry… I shouldn’t have talked to you like that.“ he said as he was walking close to me. “it was just a little tease, I didn't mean any disrespect, honey. You're a truly amazing woman." Elvis continued, curling one lip cheekily, making me smile a little.

“Apologies accepted. But I’m afraid we have a little problem, Elvis.” His eyes shined when I called him by his name.

“The door is locked. I am sorry, I could not even bring a walkie with me in case of emergency”

“Ah sweetheart, ya ain’t have to be sorry. I like stayin' here with ya, but I’m impressed how good ya are and how much ya care about others, we gotta lot in common. We both put our hearts into what we do, no matter what, ya know what I mean? So I’ll understand if ya wanna leave”

His words shocked me a bit. I made the wrong judgment about him. Despite the enormous fame that comes with being Elvis Presley and being surrounded by people constantly, he remained very kind towards me. Even so, with the earthquake, he was still gentle and protected me. This man surely belongs to another world.

“Darlin’, ya want me to open the door for ya?” He asked, leaving me concerned.

“Oh no, please don’t push or bang I don’t want you to get hurt” I insisted.

“Honey. I’ll show ya how a real man handles a door. Step on the side” He said with confidence.

His words made me confused, I didn't know what to expect next. Elvis opened up his robe, reaching deep inside his chest where the white strip was. To my surprise, the white strip was a shoulder holster. he took out the gun and fired at the door as it was made of paper.

The noise was deafening, and made me scream in shock and take refuge in his arms. I thought the bullet might ricochet and come right back at us.

“Y'know, sugar, maybe that ain't your first scream, but I promise ya ain't gonna be the last one" Elvis joked while looking at me in a teasing way with his right eyebrow raised.

"Are you kidding me right now?" I asked with an irritated tone. "You just fired a fucking gun right next to my ear!" He didn't seem to take me seriously, instead smiling slyly and wrapping his arms around me.

"Don't get angry, darlin'," he said, his breath making me shiver. His chest was still exposed, and I had to fight not to look.

"You're right, I shouldn't have scared you like this" he continued, his tone soothing. "But at least I did open the door, right?"

"You're right" I whispered back, my voice trembling. "At least you did open the door." I looked up at him, his gaze locked with mine, my breathing getting heavier.

"I think you're enjoying this little surprise,darlin’” was all Elvis said with a charming grin, caressing my back with his fingers while the other hand kept me firmly to him.

I tried to struggle out of his grasp, but his big and strong arms were impossible to pry free. And to be honest, I wasn't really trying so hard to escape his embrace, either. In fact, I was starting to feel quite...

"Yes, I think you like it." Elvis breathed deeply, his voice and breath coming across as both intense and sultry as he was feeling my heartbeat.

My irritation and annoyance started to disappear, and I couldn't fight the urge to look at him.

When I realized what I was doing. I pulled away from him to regain awareness of myself. I knew I shouldn't be acting this way, yet I was helpless against the charm that Elvis held.

Elvis chuckled softly as I pulled away and straightened myself. He looked at me with a warm smile, his eyes sparkling with amusement and something more.

Suddenly, we heard a sound, and I assumed that it was the rumblings of the earthquake. However, when the footsteps began to get louder, we realized that it was actually a pair of feet rushing towards us.

Eventually, Joe Esposito opened the door from the other side. There was a distinct look of surprise on his face when he saw us.

"Elvis? Elvis! Are you ok?" Joe asked, his voice tinged with concern. "We were looking for you and heard the gunshots, what's going on?" He inquired, relieved but also worried.

“Hey man, all good don’t ya worry. We just got stuck down here. But thank God miss y/ln was very professional and supportive. My clever girl…” Elvis winked at me and smiled.

"Good evening, Mr. Esposito." I had met Joe previously while working with Elvis and was aware of his efforts in coordinating everything around the hotel in advance for him.

"Thank you for locating us." I said in a grateful tone, "I've made my attempts to keep Elvis safe at all times while we were inside this room, and I'm grateful that you've come to assist us."

Joe remarked with a smile, "Miss Y/ln, thank you so much for your exceptional services. Now I know that Elvis was in safe hands. Let me give you my number to keep in touch, beautiful. You deserve a good tip."

Before Joe could proceed, Elvis stopped him and whispered something quietly to him and Joe stopped. I couldn't make out what was said, but Elvis's expression was serious. After the little whisper, Elvis looked at me with a warm smile.

"Well, Miss," Joe continued, "I better take Elvis to a safe place immediately. The Colonel is going nuts!"

“Absolutely” I replied "If you require any additional assistance, do not hesitate to let me know. Have a lovely evening, gentlemen."

As I flashed my customer-service smile, Elvis returned my expression with a sly, cheeky grin. I couldn't help but return the gesture, amused by his impish expression.

“Nice to meet ya Miss y/ln. Until we get locked again in another dark room sometime.” Elvis mumbled with a smirk as he walked down the corridor.

“Sure thing, boss” I smiled whispering to myself.

Part 2 here!

#elvisaaronpresley #elvis #elvis presley #elvis fans #elvis the king #elvis history #50s elvis #60s elvis #70s elvis #elvis fanfic #elvis x reader

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jpitha · 1 year

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More #Aliens are Gardenworlders. What happens when a Human gets approval to live on an actual Garden world?

Day 1 Hey Diary! I'm so excited! It took something like 8 weeks and practically a dozen forms, but I finally got approval to relocate to that Garden world I was telling you about! It's so nice here. Everyone is friendly, the house they assigned me to so so cute, and it's just incredibly easy to get around and get food. And the weather? It's been sunny and warm, and a local was confused when I asked what season it was. They don't have seasons! No more ice and snow! I think I'm going to like it here.

Day 28 Huh. Still sunny and warm today Diary. I expected at least some clouds or rain or a thunderstorm, but nothing yet. It's been sunny and warm all month long. They don't even count months here! They just track the days in a yearly period! Went out to my "garden" (really the forest behind my house) for some lunch and just grabbed whatever I could pick. It was all tasty and easy to eat.

Day 62 Diary. It's still sunny and warm. I don't get it. Every day is exactly the same. All the locals don't notice or care, and when I ask about weather they look at me oddly. Didn't feel like foraging today, so I just ate some of the "grass" in the backyard. It's fine, tastes like pistachio.

Day 180 OMG DIARY! It rained today! Everyone was so scared! They said it only happens once a year or so and was all worried about it. Schools were closed and everyone stayed inside. It wasn't even a thunderstorm! It just rained for about 90 minutes in the morning, then the clouds parted and it was sunny and warm again. I stood outside in the rain the whole time not even caring that I was getting wet.

Day 200 I've read just about every book I can get my hands on, twice! I've watched all the shows that I can get off my pad, human and non! (I will say, those K'laxi historical dramas are very good, but I don't like the Xenni war documentaries). I. am. bored.

Day 250 Okay, you're going to think I'm getting weird Diary, but this can't be normal. It rained once the whole time I was here, it's never gotten too cold or too hot, has always been sunny or partly sunny, I can eat practically everything around me and get this - it's so easy to sneak up on the locals. It sounds mean when I write it out, but I can just crouch in the bushes and when one walks by jump up and go BOO! And they scream and run away. The fourth time I did it, the authorities came by and asked me nicely to stop. They said they didn't want to "interfere with any human predator rituals" but that I had to "stop stalking the locals."

Day 380 It's been more than a year, and I'm more convinced than ever that I am in hell. After that one time it rained last year, it hasn't done anything else! Also, I got in trouble again for stalking the locals - I wasn't even going to attack them or anything, it's just TOO EASY to sneak up on them. I need to get another hobby or something.

Day 420 (nice!) So Diary, I got in some pretty big trouble with the planetary authorities this time. It turns out, nobody here had ever heard of Extreme Sports before. I was just so bored, that I had a motocross bike shipped over. I had found one that was just like I had when I was a kid on Earth! It was so cherry. Someone had done a lot of work to it. Anyway, I had built a little course in the back forest of my house, nothing crazy! But someone saw me doing jumps and getting some sick air, and called the authorities, worried I was "exhibiting symptoms of self-harm." They took my bike!

Day 500 Okay, I give. I can't live here anymore. If you can believe it, I'm getting burnt out on nice weather! I did a telehealth session with a human therapist off-world and they recommended I apply to be transferred back to a human world, or at least moved to a Starbase or ship. Somewhere where things can change, and there's more going on.

#aliens are gardenworlders #humans are deathworlders #humans are space capybaras #humans are space orcs #humans are bored #humans do motocross #sci fi writing #writing

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mintkookiess · 10 months

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Make me love me.

For those who sometimes feel too overwhelmed with their insecurities and imperfections, or just life in general, you just know Miles would be there for you 〔´∇｀〕

Miles has become my comfort character lately and I knew I just had to write this down. Anyways, enjoy!

Love,

Mint

"If I can make you love me, maybe you can make me love me." - Halsey, I Hate Everybody

Tags: Miles Morales x Reader, insecurities, fluff, words of affirmations

Word count: 895

Your thoughts were blank, empty and a few seconds later it was loud, as if they were screaming at you. This has been an ongoing cycle that tortured you the entire day. You turned off your phone and placed it on 'Do Not Disturb' before chucking it across your bed.

Chest heaving up and down deeply, with hands that were lightly shaking, it started to feel like the world was too big for you again. Even if you were in the comforts of your bed, your room just seemed too much for you as those invasive thoughts flooded your mind.

Here they are again.

Your eyes violently shut close, trying to make those inner voices go away. The pillows and blankets that normally gave you solace didn't seem to be working.

These overwhelming thoughts got you too preoccupied that you didn't hear your window sliding up as Miles creeps in silently. He was texting you because he had sensed something was off during school today even though you tried to act normal.

Of course, he'd know. He always did.

He was sure to close your window as quietly as he came in before turning around and taking in how dark and heavy your room felt. His fingers gripped the edge of his mask, removing it in one smooth pull and placing it gently on your floor.

Miles knew that any noise would've made things worse. So he inched towards you, praying to god that your floors wouldn't creak. Once he's reached you, he sees you huddled in on yourself, eyes closed, tears silently flowing down your eyes.

You felt the weight shift on your bed, and you didn't have to open your eyes to know who it was. He gently placed a hand on your knee, his thumb rubbing circles around it so lightly it was as if it was a feather.

No words needed to be spoken. You removed yourself from your little ball, allowing him to move even further to you, letting him enter your personal space as you have many times before.

You trusted him enough for this.

Miles takes this silent permission, before continuing towards you. He transfers to sit beside you as he cautiously wraps an arm around your shoulder. As if on instinct, your face turns towards him, burying yourself in his neck.

Quiet sobs escaped your dried lips as you relished in the familiar warmth of his hold. "Shh... It's okay I'm here amor," He whispered, kissing the top of your head lightly as his hand caressed your hair.

"I'm... I'm so sorry I'm such a... fucking burden..." You hiccuped between tears. Miles' heart broke for you, wrapping his other arm around you to give you a loving embrace. "No don't say that... you know you're not a burden to me. You're far from it."

He was careful to not overstep your boundaries as it was extra sensitive right now, so he did all that he could at the moment and continued to hold you, kissing your head from time to time.

"I don't even... understand why you choose to stay with me." You choked, tears flowing harder, and sobs getting a bit louder. Miles felt himself tearing up a little.

Oh, what he'd give to beat up those inner thoughts of yours that tormented you.

"I love you too much Amor, I'm never leaving you. I've come to love every single part of you, even those that you may think would be your flaws, I love them. I love all of you." He cooed as he tried to hold back his tears. Miles knew he had to be strong for you, he wanted you to know that you could rely on him during these times.

"All your scars? Beautiful. They made you who you are, the person I love the most in the world. It shows how strong and brave you are. Mi corazón, I'm not going anywhere okay? I'll be here for you, every step of the way."

You couldn't help but feel warm from his words as you felt those voices fade little by little. His hand caressed your cheek, gently lifting your face towards him.

When you saw him, all you saw was a boy who had so much love for you, who cared about you so much, and who knows what you need better than you did. He knew what to do, what to say as if he's had you memorized and engraved into his soul.

His eyes lightly glistened as tears threatened to fall. Miles ached for you because he wanted you to see yourself the way he did. He practically wanted to give you his eyes to show you how magnificent you were.

"What would I do without you Miles?" You murmured as tears continued to flow out. "If I can make you love me, maybe you can make me love me."

Miles closed the gap between the two of you, connecting his lips with yours gently, like a touch of a dandelion. He pulls back as he looks at you with so much love and admiration. "I'll make sure to remind you every day of the million reasons why you're perfect to me, I won't stop even after you've learned to love yourself. I'll tell you all these things for as long as time allows me, amor. You have my word."

Fin.