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mrwavellswaps · 4 months

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Santa’s Solution

(Christmas Special)

It was the night of Christmas Eve and all across the world towns and cities were lit up with sparking colourful lights to celebrate the holidays. Everywhere you looked there was beauty as there always was this time of year. And nobody could see that beauty better than Santa Claus himself as he soared through the skies with his sleigh full of presents and magical reindeer leading the way. Of course most believed him to be a fairy tale but he was very much real. Simply using a little Christmas magic to make adults who didn’t believe in him think the presents he’d brought were ones they’d bought themselves. And of course he used a little magic to make sure nobody ever saw him either. That was one of the number one rules. Nobody is allowed to see Santa.

Well this night it would appear something had gone a little wrong with his magic when he entered the home of Brett Rivers. Usually his Christmas magic would make it so nobody would be awoken when he stopped by to drop off a present or two or that they would just so happen to drift off to sleep when he arrived. However this night it would not go as planned.

Brett found himself fluttering awake to the sound of rustling coming from his small living room. At first he thought it was nothing but when he heard what sounded like footsteps, he knew he had to check it out. He quietly slid out of bed in nothing but a pair of boxers, showcasing his huge muscular physique. Thick and bulky arms, solid powerful legs and a pair of melons for pecs.

He wasn’t at all scared by the noises being the buff guy that he was but he was sure to grab the bat underneath his bed just in case.

He silently made his way down the small corridor outside his bedroom and towards the living room where he turned the corner and saw none other than Santa Claus himself. Or at least a dude dressed up as Santa. He’d been expecting a burglar so the sight of the fat old man dressed up in red and white certainly had him lost for words for a few moments until he finally snapped out of it. “Oi! What the hell are you doing in my house!?” He shouted while bringing the bat up into a position ready to swing.

Startled, Santa whipped around to see the angry and confused hunk of a man standing behind him. “O-oh? You shouldn’t be out of bed Brett.” He said, knowing Brett’s name immediately, with an equal amount of confusion in his voice. “Oh dear… this has never happened before.” Santa hummed with a hint of frustration as he realised he’d broken one of the Christmas rules that he wasn’t allowed to be seen dropping off presents. “This won’t do at all.” He added whilst stroking his long white beard as if trying to come up with some kind of solution to the awkward situation.

“What the fuck are you talking about you crazy old man!” Brett shouted, getting angrier by the second. “How the hell do you know my name!?… N-no I don’t care just get the fuck out before I beat the shit out of your fat ass and call the cops!” He bellowed furiously before taking a few threatening steps closer to the intruder.

Santa sighed. “I’m sorry to do this my boy but I can’t allow that.” The jolly old man suddenly began rubbing his gloved hands together as Brett got closer. The hunk was about to give him one warning before suddenly Santa opened his hands again and blew what seemed to be fairy dust straight in Brett’s face.

The stud coughed as he stumbled backwards slightly, dropping the bat he was holding in the process with a loud thud. His entire body began to feel light and weak as his eyes fluttered. “W…What… did y-you…” Before Brett could even finish his sentence, he fell completely unconscious. Luckily Santa was quick enough to catch him before landed on the floor.

“Ooof… I’ve got you. Just sleep.” The fat bearded man whispered as his magic dust took full effect. Though as he held Brett’s unconscious body, Santa couldn’t help allowing his eyes to wander across the hunky form Brett had build. All the muscular curves and ridges that had been crafted into it along with the thickness that went along with it making Brett look like an adonis. Big Mr Claus couldn’t help licking his lips a little in a moment of perviness that was rather uncharacteristic for him. He soon shook his head however and got back to buisness.

Using a surprising amount of strength, Santa carefully hoisted Brett up onto his feet once again before taking a breath and tossing the muscular man over his shoulder. If his cheeks weren’t already so rosey then he probably would’ve been blushing slightly at having this big handsome almost naked man on his shoulder.

“You’re certainly a strong healthy lad aren’t you my boy.” Santa chuckled slightly as he gave Brett’s muscle ass a cheeky pat before rubbing his hand down the back Brett’s thighs and getting a good feel for those thick hamstrings of his. “Very strong indeed…” he continued to mumble as his hand slid back over Brett’s ass again.

With that Santa made sure he had a good grip on Brett before taking his leave and heading back to his sleigh. Once there he carefully placed the hunk in the back of the sleigh alongside his magical sack of presents. “What am I gonna do with you?…” Santa pondered as he stared down at Brett for a moment, still taking in that young gorgeous body. “Welp. I’ll have to figure that out later. Time is running out and I have presents to deliver!” He declared before heading to the next house that was in need of a couple presents from Santa.

———

The next time Brett awoke he found himself sitting in a cold wooden chair that certainly wasn’t his home. Instead he found himself in what seemed to be some sort of laboratory. It was hard to tell at first but as his vision cleared he began to make out a room filled with all sorts of machines that he couldn’t even begin to understand. There were multiple worktops full of gadgets and devices that’d seemily been crafted here, none of which Brett could make sense of.

“Finally back with us eh? We’ve been waiting forever for that slumber magic to wear off.” Said an elf beside him. “Took your body awhile to wake up after having you under for so many months.” The tiny worker added causally. He worked human enough besides the fact that he looked to have been scaled down a bit in size. And of course the pointy ears. The elf wore a pair of rather sophisticated glasses that sat perfectly atop his nose and would probably be one of his most stand out features if it weren’t for his thick curly beard. He was wearing a typical scientist-y get up comp,ste with the white lab coat you’d usually see yet Brett couldn’t help noticing the tuft of chest hair that stuck out the top of the elf’s collar. He was definitely a furry one.

“W-what!? What’re you talking about?! Months?! What’s-Grrrahh!” As his body began to wake, Brett attempted to jump up from the chair he was seated in only to find both his arms and legs had been tightly strapped down with restraints. “Hey! Let me go you fucking creep!” He shouted while continuing to struggle but his attempts to free himself were all in vain.

The elf who looked to be wearing a messy lab coat of sorts shook his head. “Sorry mister, no can do. Might as well save your strength.” He tutted as he pulled out what looked to be some sort of phone. The scrawny little elf tapped a few buttons before talking into the device. “He’s awake now sir if you’re ready to proceed.”

Brett was even more confused. By this point he was surprised he hadn’t had a panic attack yet. The last thing he could clearly remember was being woken up in the middle of the night before Christmas by some Santa looking fucker breaking into his house and now he was here in the freaky looking gadget workshop. What freaked him out even more though was as he peered over his shoulder he saw one huge machine sat behind him with what looked to be two helmets attached to it.

“What the fuck is that?!” Brett’s voice boomed through the laboratory. When he didn’t get a response however, his face grew red with anger and frustration. “Hey! Answer me you stupid little fuck! What the fuck are you doing to me!?” The jock struggled against his restraints once more in the hopes of performing a miracle and breaking out. But that was only fantasy.

The elf sighed. “Look man. I’ve been instructed not to say anything until the big man gets here. He’ll explain everything to you.” He explained somewhat bluntly. “You know I kinda felt bad for you at first but now… I think I’m starting to see why Mr Claus was okay with going through with this.”

The cryptic wording only made Brett more worried. “C-come on man. Just let me go. Please, I'll give you anything.” Brett’s anger from moments ago turned to pleas as he quickly came to terms with the fact that there was likely no way for him to get out of whatever this was. But once again he was ignored. He begged over and over but the elf had already turned its back to him. There was nothing he could do.

Despite this Brett continued to plead in vain but he would soon be cut short when the large metal door at the opposite end of the room made a beeping sound before sliding open. A wave of nervous anticipation washed over Brett’s body as he saw the fat lumbering form of Santa Claus step foot in the lab.

This time Santa dorned a long sleeved red and white striped button down that just barely managed to stretch across his massive stomach and soft pecs. It was assisted in holding his huge gut in place by a pair of red suspenders that were attached to a large pair of slacks of the same colour. Slacks that also fit the older man's robust frame rather tightly in a way that showed off his fat ass and legs rather nicely.

“Ah! Mr Claus! The machine is prepped and ready for you. Just give the word and we’ll begin the procedure.” The nerdy looking elf who’d been keeping Brett company chirped, seeming elated to be in the large man’s presence.

“Thank you Venix. I wouldn’t be able to do this without you and your team. I’ll be sure to treat you all to something nice after this is over.” Santa smiled warmly at his Head Scientist & Technician who was practically beaming at the words of appreciation. With that however, Santa was quick to turn his attention to the hunk strapped down before him in nothing but a pair of tight underwear.

Mr Claus took a few thunderous steps towards Brett, his belly shaking slightly with each one, until he was stood directly over the jock. “Why hello again Brett. Glad to see you’re back with us. We had to keep you unconscious for quite a few months while we finished this project but it seems it’s finally time.”

There it was again. Months. “What do you mean months!? How long have I been here?? What the fuck is happening?!” Brett panicked aloud.

Santa chuckled. “Well when I brought you here last Christmas this project was only in the planning stage. We hadn’t even begun building the glorious machine you see behind you. So naturally we’ve had to keep you asleep for awhile whilst my trusty elves got to work. And they’ve done a fine job by the looks of it.” He looked up at the large glimmering machine that sat behind Brett which had been charged with a mix between earth’s finest resources and a bit of magic sprinkled in to give it the energy it needed for its purpose. “And to answer your question, it’s now the middle of June.”

The realisation hit Brett like a ton of bricks. Had he really been here for six whole months?! There was no way. It had to be a trick right? “You’re lying!” He claimed. “If I’d really been out for that long I’d practically be skin and bone by now. But I’ve still got all my fucking muscle so cut the bullshit old man!”

“You’re right. Under normal circumstances you would’ve lost most of your muscle mass by now.” Santa admitted. “Luckily for us, the magic we’ve used to keep you asleep also acts as a preservative. Meaning your body has been able to retain its size and mass despite being inactive for so long. Also like you’ve been frozen.” He explained as he leaned forwards and shamelessly groped one of Brett’s thick pecs before then using his other hand to feel the hunks meaty arms. “Mmmm yeah. Perfect condition…” he grunted much to Brett’s own disturbance.

After having his fun, Santa walked past Brett before placing a hand on the machine. Admiring its glory after all the hard sweat and tears his elves put into making it. He couldn’t have been more grateful towards them. Once this was over he was already planning on throwing a big celebration for them all. With that though, Santa turned his gaze towards the other slightly bigger chair beside Brett.

“Well there’s no time like the present I say. Let’s get this show on the road!” Mr Claus announced as walked past Brett again and towards the adjacent chair. As he passed though, Santa couldn’t help jiggling his fat belly, seemingly in a mocking manner. “Take a good look at this stomach Brett because in a few moments it’ll be all yours…” he taunted.

“Huh?! What the hell are you going on about!?!” Brett screamed but he received no answer. Only a mischievous smirk from Santa as he sat down in the other chair. He could only watch in confusion as Venix strapped the burly man into the chair with restraints similar to his own.

Once Santa was securely restrained in the chair, Venix looked up at him with a small smile. “May I send them in now sir?” He asked. Mr Claus simply nodded in response. Of course Brett was once again clueless to what was going on but it soon became clear as Venix stepped out for a moment only to re-enter the room with a huge lobby full of other elves behind him. Most of them were other scientists and engineers that’d worked on the machine while others were just elves who were lucky enough to have been chosen to witness the event. And if that didn’t freak Brett out enough, to make matters worse Venix also mentioned that the camera’s were now on and were broadcasting to the entirety of the Christmas Villa.

The small crowd that’d come to watch the event live began cheering when Santa gave the thumbs up to start the procedure. Venix grabbed one of the helmets that were attached to the machine and first made his way over to Santa as he gently placed the device on his head before securing it in place. Once it was on, Venix swiped up the matching helmet and brought it over to Brett.

“No! Stop! Keep that thing away from me! Get away!” He shouted while writhing in his chair. But with how much he was being restrained and how his body still hadn’t fully recovered its energy after having been knocked out for so long, there was little he could do to stop the elf from forcing the helmet onto his head and swiftly securing it. “Fuck! Get it off!” He continued thrash around but his frustration was immediately drowned out by the growing cheers and excitement of the crowd all whilst Santa grinned in an almost maniacal manner beneath his huge white beard

Venix flipped a few switches and booped a few buttons on the big machine, causing it to roar to life as it started powering up. A sound that excited everyone in the room except for the kidnapped jock. And as the machine continued to hum and glow, Venix made his way over to a small nearby station with a control pad that was hooked up to it. He immediately began to punch in the correct settings before looking over towards Santa again for one last sign of approval before going ahead. A small wink from the big man was all he needed. With all the other elves rallying him on, Venix finally took a deep breath and smacked his hand down on the big red button that would set everything into motion.

The machine began to rattle before glowing even brighter than before. It was generating an incredibly fierce amount of energy that only made Brett more terrified. He wouldn’t have much time to dwell on that however as moments later a powerful current of magic and electricity surged down from the machine and into both helmets. Immediately both Santa and Brett gripped their chairs tightly and the energy flooded through them. It was a feeling that was almost indescribable. In a way it felt both uncomfortable yet satisfying at the same time.

The crowd simply watched in awe as both Brett and Santa’s bodies began to convulse. Brett’s muscle jiggling almost as much as Santa’s fat. Both men couldn’t help letting out uncontrollable groans almost in unison as their eyes began to roll. It was impossible to tell if they were in pain or pleasure. But that wouldn’t matter as soon Brett felt his vision starting to blur.

It was the most surreal experience. One moment it seemed as though he were looking down at the muscular body he was accustomed to and the next he was suddenly looking down at a fat wobbly belly held in place by the very same shirt and suspenders Santa was wearing. Brett’s vision continued to fade in and out between seeing both perspectives. At first he only saw flashes of the fatter body below him before returning to his muscled one but each time it lingered for longer. It was mind boggling in a way that he could barely even comprehend as his view was constantly switching back and forth. Buff to fat to buff to fat again.

The cycle of flashing perspectives continued as the machine fed more and more energy to the helmets until at last there was one massive jolt of energy that caused both men to writhe in their seats. The audience began to look slightly worried but Venix assured them it was all part of the process. And just as he said that, the machine began powering itself down after seemingly having completed its task.

Both Brett and Santa were left unconscious for a minute or so after the machine shut down. During which Venix quickly ran over to them both and removed the helmets but left their restraints in place just in case something had gone wrong. Every elf in the villa that was watching was practically holding their breath waiting to know the results. To know if Santa’s plan had been a success. So when the body of Santa began to groan and come around, they were all eager to see his reaction.

Slowly but surely Brett blinked his eyes open again. “Ughhh… what? What happened?…” he mumbled but immediately he knew something was wrong. His voice. It sounded much older and huskier than before. But that was the least of his concerns. Pretty soon his eyes started to focus and when he looked down, he got the shock of a lifetime.

“WHAT THE FUCK!?!” Brett shrieked as instead of the hunky body he was used to, he looked down to see the body of Santa! His belly looked fucking massive as it stretched out the very same shirt Santa had been wearing. And his legs looked so huge and fat as they filled out those red slacks. Clothes that never would’ve fit his old body were now hugging him tightly as if to emphasise just how fat he was. But that wasn’t all as Brett then quickly came to notice the massive beard that was cascading down from his face. And it was completely white! In that moment he knew what’d happened but his brain couldn’t accept it. It was impossible after all. There was no way he’d actually swapped bodies with Santa!?

It was then that Brett heard a low familiar sounding grumble come from beside him. He whipped his head to the right only to see none other than himself! His own damn body! And it seemed to slowly be waking up as well.

“Sir? Sir, are you okay?” Venix asked as he rushed over towards Brett’s former body.

The hunk shook his head a little as he squinted his eyes open. “Y-yeah. I feel… good.” Santa mumbled. A smirk slowly etched itself across his face as he got a good look at his body below. No longer was his vision obscured by the presence of a massive gut nor did he feel so heavy and old. Instead he felt stronger than he had in years! He could already feel a youthful energy pulsing through his very being! “I feel… absolutely fantastic! Quick Venix! Take off these restraints!” He commanded with excitement.

The elf undid the arm restraints first before quickly undoing the ones binding Santa’s legs. Immediately the man jumped up out of the chair and started to inspect his new form. First of all running his hands along his chest and stomach. He couldn’t help but chuckle as he groped his new pecs. They were so thick yet so firm at the same time unlike the flabby chest his old body had. But his stomach was what threw him off the most. He’d gotten so used to his big belly that he almost forgot what it was like to have a flat stomach. And on top of that he even had abs! There were hardly even words to describe what he was feeling right now besides pure wonder and astonishment.

“God yes. I should’ve done this years ago!” Santa claimed as he started to flex. Loving how his thick new arms bulged with every movement. Feeling a rush of pure dopamine as his biceps peaked before his eyes. Despite being smaller than he was before, all the strength and muscle made him feel like a one man army. Like he could take on absolutely anything and anyone! All the while his elves continued to watch on in curiosity as their leader examined his new body.

“H-hey! That’s mine! That’s my fucking body!” Brett began to shout from the other chair, still strapped down but that didn’t stop him from struggling again anyway. “You can’t do this! Switch us back now or I’ll… I’ll…”

“You’ll what?” Santa asked smugly while turning his gaze towards his former fat body. “Sorry Brett but there’s nothing you can do. I’ve been in need of an upgrade for a long time and your body is the perfect fit.” He added before striking another cocky pose to which the elves began cheering their new Santa on.

“But you can’t… I can’t… I’m not old and fat…” Brett mumbled, looking down at himself again.

Santa sauntered over towards Brett with a confident swagger. “Sorry my boy but… you are.” He leaned in until their faces were only inches apart. It was jarring on a whole other level for Brett to be stared down by his own handsome face. “And I’m young and strong.” He taunted before leaning in even closer until Brett could feel his former body’s hot breath on his ear. “You’re fat and I’m buff. You’re old and I’m young. I’m gorgeous and you’re not. You have a tiny dick and I’m hung… as… fuck.” Santa whispered so the elves didn’t hear but every word shocked Brett to the core as it forced him to come to terms with reality.

“Oops.” Santa said as he glanced down at the already hefty bulge in his underwear starting to grow. “Guess I’m getting a little too excited.” He chuckled. With that he looked over his shoulder at Venix before asking the head scientist to clear the room and shut down the camera’s so they may have some privacy. Before long the elves had all piled out of the room and the two men were finally alone.

“Well I’ve got to say my boy, being inside your body feels even more exhilarating than I’d anticipated. You’ve certainly taken good care of yourself haven’t you? A body like this doesn’t happen overnight. A good diet, lots of exercise. I imagine it took a lot of hard work.” Santa continued to flex and explore his new form. Admiring the definition of each muscle he traced his fingers along. “Don’t worry. I’ll be sure to try and keep up whatever routines you have to take good care of this body for you.”

By this point Brett was too beaten and embarrassed to even muster a reply. What could he even say at this point anyway? It was already made clear to him that this wasn’t being undone. Santa Claus had stolen his body and there was nothing he could do about it besides accept whatever his new fate was inside this massive new body.

“So what? Am I gonna have to go out on Christmas now? Deliver all your damn presents?” Brett mumbled.

“Oh no not at all. You might look like the jolly old man everyone expects but I’m still Santa Claus. I’ll still be delivering all the presents every Christmas Eve. Lord knows it’ll be easier with this fit body.” He commented before flexing his arm again and kissing his bicep. “You will stay here. My elves will take care of all your needs. They’ll get you everything you need whether that be food, entertainment or anything else within reason. Can’t have you going back to civilisation after all. Not after all this.” The jock sighed.

As bad as this all was for Brett, he had to admit that wasn’t the worst deal. No more responsibilities to worry about. No more work, no more bills, no more working out. He could just laze around and do whatever he wanted.

Santa glanced down at his crotch again. “Well I’m gonna head back to my house in the villa while I’ve got this new cock under control. I’ll send a few elves in to help you out of those restraints when I leave. They’ll show you to your new place.” He explained nonchalantly as he strutted towards the exit, loving the naturally confident way his muscular body moved. “Oh and play nice. If you try anything funny, I’ve given them permission to gas you with more slumber magic.”

With that Brett could do nothing but watch as the new Santa Claus walked away with his body. He still couldn’t quite believe this was all real. He kept thinking that any minute he’d wake up at home in his own bed having just had a bad dream. But as a handful of elves entered the room a few minutes later, it became clearer and clearer to Brett just how real this all was. Santa had stolen his body.

———

The elves couldn’t keep their eyes off the jock that made his way down the corridor. Instead of their usual happy greetings, most elves just looked on curiously. Not knowing what to do or say. Of course him being almost naked with a rather intimidating bulge in his underwear probably had something to do with that. Yet their locked gazes would only serve to make Santa feel even more cocky about his new body. Of course he knew it’d probably take some adjusting for them all in the long term to get used to his new look but he knew that before long they'd be looking at him as if he’d always been a muscle bound hunk.

As soon as he stepped outside, Santa felt a chill run down his body. He was cold. It’d been so long that he’d almost forgotten the feeling. His old body had completely acclimated the temperatures of the North Pole but this new one was unfamiliar. Strangely though he welcomed the feeling. It was yet another sensation that came with this body that almost seemed brand new, once again reminding him of his success. However that didn’t stop him from speeding up his stride to get out of the cold just a bit quicker.

He was released once he finally stepped inside his little house at the top of the villa. The warm and cozy feeling of the permanently Christmas themed home running over him immediately just as it always did. With a sigh Santa stretched his arms above his head as he walked through the living area and towards the bedroom. He passed the kitchen on the way and couldn’t help glancing at the fridge for a moment as he remembered what was in there. Mountains of tasty yet very unhealthy food. “I’ll need to clean that out and put some proper food in as soon as I get the chance.” He thought to himself, not wanting to risk ruining this new body.

Once he entered the bedroom however, that same grin from before re-emerged. Finally he was alone. No elves around to stare, No Brett around to curse him out or beg for his body back. Santa was all alone and finally able to explore the body he’d been fantasising about for months leading up to the swap. The one he’d been jerking off too every other night at the mere thought of touching it. Now it was his. Every inch of that gorgeous muscle he’d been admittedly jealous of while watching Brett sleep was now all under his control!

Right away he began examining his new form properly and where better to start than admiring all of that very muscle! He started by doing the obvious and bringing his arms inwards into an arms and pecs flex. In an instant that soft muscle on his chest hardened into pecs of steel. Veins popping down his forearms in the process while his biceps bulged with strength that Santa had never before felt. Sure he had a little magic power but this power was different. It was raw and physical in a way that made him feel superior.

He continued to go through the motions of performing the typical muscle man poses you’d see meatheads doing all the time. Continuing to flex his arms as he brought them up into the more traditional double bicep pose, his head whipping back and forth between looking at both arms in wonder. Immediately after he bent down slightly while keeping his arms flexed before twisting his body in a way that showed off his huge back and lats. It felt incredible! If he had an audience right now he was sure they’d be eating it up.

Once Santa had finished his little gun show, he moved on to simply groping at his new muscle instead as his hands roamed every inch of his new form. Naturally his pecs were the first to get a squeeze and doing immediately prompted a small groan and twitch from his new cock. Squeezing that firm muscle now that it was his own felt even more erotic than he’d imagined. So much so that both hands lingered on his chest for a good few minutes just groping away. It wasn’t long before he figured out the mind muscle connection to start making his pecs bounce and that action alone was enough to make him start chuckling like an idiot while his new cock grew harder with every bounce.

“Uuuughh… fuuuck yeahhh…” Santa groaned as he used one hand to continue groping at his chest while the other slid down to his crotch. Gently he began to stroke his cock through his underwear and the sensitivity of it was off the charts. He hadn’t even pulled it out yet but just the feeling of his hand rubbing across that fat member was causing shivers to run up his body. He supposed he’d been stuck with that old man dick for so long that he’d forgotten what it was like to have such a young and virile cock. “Mmmm come on Claus… gotta hold it together.” He mumbled to himself as he mustered up the strength to stop rubbing his cock. For now.

After giving himself a moment to calm down and finally being able to pull away from his pecs, Santa began hitting a multitude of different poses. Not just typical bodybuilder poses however. Now he was posing more like a Greek god as he relished in the amount of grace his new form was able to move and pose with.

Poses that would’ve before been rather unflattering on him now looked awe inspiring. During which he couldn’t help admiring the sheer level of flexibility of his new form. Flexibility that allowed him to effortlessly move into positions that glamorised his muscular form in a way that would’ve inspired many to either look up to him or wish to worship him. Or perhaps both.

Soon enough though, his posing was once again brought to an end by the desire to touch himself. He gave his juicy muscle tits another quick squeeze before moving on to groping his biceps instead. Once again flexing them and loving just how firm and strong they felt. And once he was done with those he couldn’t but admire his thick boulder-like shoulders at least a little. Rubbing them in a way that made it look as though he were giving himself a hug. But after that his interests wandered further south yet again. This time going past his pecs and towards his stomach. Of course he’d already had a chance to admire his new abs a little earlier on but as he brushed his hands across them, he couldn’t help taking notice of the new tattoo on his left side just below his lats.

“Would you look at that. Ain’t ever had tattoos before.” Santa commented as he traced the ink. Of course he’d know about Brett’s tattoos. He’d seen the man pretty much nude enough times to know. But seeing those tattoos now on himself was still an intriguing experience. In fact it only prompted him to look further down at his body towards the much bigger and more noticeable tattoo on his left thigh. It was one of a snake that Santa had to admit looked pretty damn awesome. Though he’d never considered himself a tattoo’s kind of person before with his whole jolly old man persona, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the little bit of ink this new body had. Hell maybe he’d even look into getting a few more some day. Maybe a candy cane or something to reflect his Christmas spirit.

Whilst admiring the snake tattoo, Santa of course couldn’t help admiring the leg it was inked onto in the process. Both of his legs in fact. They were huge! But not in the fat way that they were before. No. Now they were thick and powerful with pure masculinity. He felt as though he could squat a damn mountain! Just every part of this body made him feel invincible to the point where he found himself wondering yet again why the hell he hadn’t done this sooner!?

Once he was finished admiring his thick new trunks, Santa knew he had to check out the ass. He did his best to look over his shoulder and he could just about catch a glimpse of the round muscle ass he now carried on his backside. He couldn’t help himself. Before Santa even knew it, both his hands slithered towards his backside before latching onto his bubbly cheeks. Once again having a big ass wasn’t anything new to him but just like everything else, now it was large in a different way that was so much more satisfying. Santa just couldn’t stop himself from placing each hand below one cheeks before jiggling his ass. Feeling the muscle wobble behind him had to have been one of the most erotic things he’d felt in a long time. So much so that it looked as though his cock was going to burst out of his underwear at any second with how stiff it was!

He couldn’t ignore it any longer. This new cock was begging for his attention. Demanding it even. And who was he to ignore it’s call. And so rather than pulling off his underwear, in a moment of horniness, Santa uses his newfound strength to rip a hole in the front of them instead and doing so only turned him on even more. A youthful cock bucking and leaking as it was finally set free from his prison. And with a face full of pure lust, Santa gripped his stolen cock with an iron grip and started stroking it intensely.

“Mmmmm… soooo haaarrrdddd! Soooo haarrrrddddd!!!” Santa moaned using Brett’s deep tone as he was consumed by desire. He hadn’t had an erection this stiff in centuries. It felt so incredible to the point where the lust itself was driving him mad!and it certainly didn’t help that this body hadn’t nutted in months over the time that Brett had been unconscious. These new bull nuts of his were practically begging to blow his seed everywhere.

He was so horny. So god damn horny. The more he stoked, the harder it was to think about anything but his dick. “Gotta cum! Gotta cum!” He would start to groan. It was like his cock had taken over his mind and all he wanted now was to unload his balls. So much so that he’d begun jerking his dick with an incredibly fiery passion. All the while literally everything from the feeling of his muscular body to the sound of his new voice only continued to ramp his horniness up further and further .

Naturally it wasn’t long before he could feel himself starting to get close. But as he did his body reacted on its own. Instead of continuing to jerk his cock normally, Santa leapt onto the bed and immediately began humping his bed sheets. Rubbing his cock aggressively against the sheets as if he were fucking something. His thick muscle ass rising up and down with every thrust while his moans only grew needier. And just as his body was on autopilot, his mind was as well as he started to imagine his head scientist Venix on the bed below him. The small yet hairy little elf took the pounding of a lifetime as Santa stuffed his fat new cock inside the elf’s hole. God it was so hot as he thought of Venix’s cry’s of pleasure mixing with his own. It was sending him into a tailspin! At this rate he was gonna-

“UGH! UGHHH! UUGHHHHHHHHhuuuuuuuu…” Santa found himself clenching his new muscle ass while shooting what was probably the fattest load of his life all over the bed sheets below, splattering them in his thick jock seed. And it just wouldn’t stop. His dick was like a broken faucet that couldn’t stop leaking. Every time he thought it was over, his body would clench again and another rope of cum would shoot from his cock. It wasn’t until the bed below him seemed nearly drenched in cum did it finally seem to stop.

With that the hunk let himself drop limp onto the bed despite dampness. “Holy… that was… incredible.” Santa was at last able to say as his mind cleared again. After which he simply just smiled to himself as he closed his eyes and allowed himself to rest in the puddle of his own cum for a while.

Buuuut his rest didn’t last long. After all that Santa knew he was gonna need a nice long shower to clean up and he couldn’t have been more excited to lather up this new form with soap. And so he hopped off the bed yet again with ease with his cock still bouncing eagerly between his legs. Somehow after all of that it was already hard again! It was unreal but Santa certainly wasn’t complaining as he reached down and grabbed his still dripping before smacking it against his other hand a few times. “God it feels good to be young and hung.”

Santa quickly swiped up another pair of grey boxer briefs he had ready to go for once he’d taken this body and began pulling them on. He didn’t need to really but he was just curious to see if they actually fit him now. After awkwardly tucking his erection into the front, they fit pretty well. He loved how the tight fit showed off not only his bulge but his ass so damn well also. Following this however he immediately got to work pulling off his sheets and stripping it all down so it was ready to be washed.

Once that was taken care of however, Santa stepped foot in the bathroom and finally caught sight of his reflection. Somehow he’d managed to miss almost every mirror on his way home but now as he stood before his own bathroom mirror, he could finally see what he was working with reflected back at him. Instead of the flabby figure this mirror had grown accustomed to showing every day, now it showed something far superior. A jock. A hunk. A hot fucking meathead. But it wasn’t just his body, it was his face.

Seeing that handsome face in the mirror was both jarring and at the same time the most incredible thing Santa could’ve imagined. Seeing every feature move under his own accord. Every blink, every twitch. All of it was him. Even after all that it was still hard to believe and his brain was still trying to catch up. Despite that he found himself reaching up and running his fingers gently across his new features. Inspecting them all so carefully. Running a hand softly through his thick brown hair before bringing it down to rub through his short new beard. Feeling how smooth his young new skin felt in comparison to the wrinkles he’d known for so long. Even simply finding wonder in the fact that things such as his nose were a different size and shape compared to before. It was all these little details rolled into one that made the whole experience so extraordinary.

He must've stood in front of the mirror for nearly an hour as he admired both his face and body. And half of that time was spent with his back to the mirror so he could stare at the reflection of his jock butt. It was addictive. And the whole time his cock was pressing angrily against his underwear once again. He’d really have to find a way to keep that thing under control otherwise it was gonna be hard to even leave the house without the elves all locking eyes with his crotch whenever he went anywhere.

“Well. Suppose I should actually get on with things.” He thought to himself with a sigh as he took one last look in the mirror before kicking off the new underwear once more. And with that he grinned as he flipped on the shower and stepped under the steaming water and allowed it to cascade down his body and cock. With how his monstrous member was already bucking at him again, Santa had a feeling he probably wouldn’t be stepping out of the shower again until he’d busted another nut…

———

Almost six months had passed since Santa had stolen Brett’s body. It was December 23rd and Christmas was right around the corner. Usually at this time of the year the elves had already finished making all their toys and they’d all be celebrating alongside Santa with a huge buffet meal. But this year things were a little different.

Brett, in Santa’s original body, was present at the buffet and digging in just as Santa usually would. The real Santa on the other had only stayed for a while to celebrate and eat his healthy prepped food but eventually he had to leave so he could get his last Pre-Christmas workout in.

Even since before the swap, Santa had been getting a gym built out of preparation. It was a little side project he had going on while the swapping machine was being constructed. That said ever since the swap he’s been making incredible use of it. He’d been going in there at least 6 times a week religiously which hadn’t been too difficult thanks to the routine his new body already had installed into it. The workouts themselves however were a little rough to begin with. He did better than expected thanks to muscle memory but he still needed to do a lot of research before he was performing at the same level Brett once was in the gym. But with how determined Santa was to keep this body as huge and jacked as possible, it wasn’t long before he was practically a pro in the gym. He was lifting weight like a beast and always pushing his muscles to their limits. And he loved every second! The feeling of it was invigorating to him now. So much so that he actually needed to force himself to take a day off most days but even then he’d usually end up doing some cardio in the form of jogging around the villa.

It was almost incredible how well he’d taken to fitness. It was the only thing he’d been worried about before the swap. Worried that he wouldn’t be able to keep up the intense routine that Brett did to forge this body. Worried that he’d end up getting lazy and lose all the muscle he was about to steal. But the result was the complete opposite. If anything he was pushing himself even further than Brett ever could with how much more free time he had in comparison. Just in the last couple of months he could swear he’s not only been able to maintain his jockish form but has even grown a tad bit bigger!

A small crowd of elves had even come to watch him workout which Santa didn’t mind in the slightest. If anything it just gave him a chance to show off just how fucking swole he was. He just adored seeing the shocked looks on their faces as he did multiple sets with weights that some of the elves wouldn’t even be able to move on their own. It only fuelled Santa’s cocky ego even further.

That was something a lot of eleven had begun to notice about their new leader. His ego. At the end of the day he was still incredibly kind and jolly but most had to admit that he wasn’t quite as humble as he was before. At least not when it came to his body. He never had any problems showing off his physique and flexing cockily for the elves just for them to shower him in praise. Even now as he wore his baggy Christmas get up that’d been resized to fit his new body, he still looked incredible!

Santa continued going through the motions of it all until finally his workout came to end. He racked up his weights and grabbed the fluffy red jacket he’d discarded part way through his session with a satisfied smile on his face as he made his way over to the pack of elves.

“Ahhhhhh… all ready for tomorrow night I think guys.” Santa commented while hitting a quick pose which was fast met with applause.

“Can’t wait for my first big night with this form. Can’t wait to see how much easier it’s going to be now.” He laughed. It was truly an exciting occasion. Sure he’d done his Christmas run hundreds of times but this year he could tell it was going to be truly special. More so than it’d been in a long time for him. But that wasn’t just because he’d be checking himself out on every reflective surface he saw while delivering presents. It was also because he had an amazing present of his own waiting for him when he got home…

After that first day in this new body when he’d fantasied about fucking Venix’s brains out, Santa hadn’t been able to help making subtle moves on the intelligent elf who’d lead the project that’d given him this body. Dropping hints every now and then that made the elf blush profusely until one day Santa couldn’t stop himself. Without thinking he grabbed Venix and pinned him against a wall with ease before pressing their bearded lips together. After that it wasn’t long before the two found a supply closet in the laboratory building and Santa used his new fat cock to resize Venix’s hole.

Ever since then Santa had been fucking Venix constantly to satiate his cock’s desire. So much so that Venix practically moved into Santa’s little house. The two never explicitly why they’d made this decision but most of the elves had a good idea given this new ‘young and hung’ version of Santa.

And so the plan was for Santa to arrive back home on Christmas morning and as soon as the festivities were over, he and Venix would be spending the rest of Christmas locked up in Santa’s bedroom as he filled the hairy elf to the brim with jock cum over and over until Santa was finally satisfied. He’d say it was going to be a Christmas to remember but chances were all he was gonna remember were the sounds of his fat bull balls smacking loudly against Venix’s ass in every which position…

Hope you all enjoyed this late Christmas Present from yours truly! Happy New Years to you all! 💜💜💜

#male body swap #male body theft #technology #old to young #identity theft #jock #permanent #muscle theft #meathead #christmas special

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pennylanefics · 7 days

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Golden Hour - Andrei Svechnikov

a/n: my first svechy fic!! i am SO happy with how this turned out, it's so tooth-rotting sweet and UGH <3

summary: andrei tries to plan the perfect proposal with some help from his teammates and friends

word count: ~ 2.2k

Andrei had been acting off the past few days. However, since it was now the offseason for him, he had a lot more free time to go out and do things, so you didn’t think too much into it. Except for when he was with you, it was just as strange.

He was far more quieter than usual, sticking to reading books in the little reading nook that you two had created in your home, not saying a ton during dinner, and even though you were trying your hardest to not let it get to you, it was.

“I’m going to the store with Pyotr and Jarvy,” he states as he waltzes into the kitchen, dressed casually in a simple grey t-shirt and shorts.

“Okay,” you murmur, continuing to scroll on your phone. He awkwardly steps over to you and leans down to kiss you. Quickly, you look up and give him a small peck, turning your head back down as soon as it ends. He seems rather taken aback, but leaves not long after.

You sigh as you are once again left alone in the house, the quietness getting too much for you to handle. So, you decide to go shopping by yourself, picking up some books at Barnes and Noble before heading to other stores you’ve been meaning to get to. You spend the day trying to distract yourself, meanwhile, Andrei’s day was spent differently.

Half of the Cane’s gathered in Seth and Jack’s place, all crowded in the living room, talking amongst themselves. Andrei cleared his throat and stood up in front of the TV. Everyone suddenly quiets down and looks at him.

“So, uh, I need your guys’ help with something,” his voice wavers with anxiety. “I want to propose to (Y/N).”

The room erupts in cheers, Pyotr standing to hug his longtime friend.

“Where’s the ring?” Martinook asks, patting Andrei’s back. He grabs the ring from his pocket, opening the box and showing a stunning diamond ring, everyone crowding around to admire it.

“I don’t know what to do, though,” he says as everyone sits back down.

“Do you want a private setting?” Jarvy asks.

“Yes, I don’t want to be around anyone.”

They all brainstorm ideas for the next fifteen minutes or so: at an art museum, at the beach, in the backyard of your shared home, during a romantic dinner at a restaurant. Everyone rattles off any idea that comes to their brain, before he finally settles on one, after some discussion.

“You should do it during golden hour,” Brett states, speaking up with his thoughts. “She’ll look even more beautiful.” Andrei blushes deeply but nods at his words.

“I think I will,” he agrees. “Although I’m not sure she can look any more beautiful than she already is.”

A few of the guys coo at him, Andrei wasn’t usually one to express his feelings for his partner publicly, so this was a new side of Svechy to them.

“I’m sure she’ll love anything you plan, Svech," Jarvy comes over to pat his back in support. “And she’s guaranteed to say yes, I’m sure of it.”

“I don’t know, I haven’t been the best boyfriend lately because I’m so nervous.” He wrings his hands together nervously, scared that in some way, you’d decline his offer and he’d have to go home like a kicked puppy.

“How long have you been thinking about this?” Martin wonders, looking over at his teammate.

“A few months. I bought the ring after we got to the playoffs, waiting for the perfect time. Seeing her with my name on the jacket, I knew I wanted it official,” he smiles and looks down at his hands.

The guys hang out for a little while longer before people need to start leaving and getting back to their families. Andrei stays over with Jack and Jarvy for a little while longer, catching up for a bit and asking him if he needed help planning anything else. So, that’s what they did, the two of them helped Andrei plan for his proposal, going over small details, the date he was planning on and what the weather was like, everything.

He returned home a few hours later, scared that you were going to be upset with him, since you didn’t seem too happy with him earlier.

“Baby?” He calls out for you, noticing that the house was rather quiet. He looks in all the places he think you’d be, but when he doesn’t find you, he gets worried. He checks one final spot, and it’s the backyard, where you enjoy reading on warmer days. You have a hammock set up in the trees, and he’s found you there plenty of times during the summer.

It was around the time of day that Andrei wanted to propose to you, but today wasn’t the right day. He walks outside, shutting the door behind him, and he slowly walks over to you, not wanting to startle you. He’s not sure if you couldn’t see him yet or you were ignoring him.

The sun was beginning to set, creating a soft orange glow on your face. He pauses in his steps, his breath literally taken away at how beautiful you are. Brett was right, the lighting made you look like an angel.

“Baby?” He calls out one final time. Your head whips to the side, looking at Andrei standing there sheepishly. He grins softly and waves at you, as you bookmark your page and get up.

“Hi. How was shopping?” You wonder, not caring that he was gone for far too long to be at just one store, but you refused to let your mind wander anywhere else.

“Fine. Jarvy needed a new couch so we went looking for that.” You nod, trying to push aside the fact that he’s been distant as of late, and attempt to reach up to press a kiss to his cheek. But since he was so tall, he has to lean down for you to do so, and thankfully, he does.

“Let’s go inside and have some dinner. I brought home some takeout,” he states, grabbing your hand to bring you along.

As the days go by, the day that Andrei had decided to propose to you on draws closer and closer, and he tries to keep himself from completely shutting down as to not worry you even more and ruin his chances.

When the day finally arrives, he’s way more nervous than when he made his NHL debut. Today was going to be a big day, and he was terrified yet excited, if you are to say yes.

“Hey, um, I have a little surprise for you today,” Andrei says to you while you have lunch in the backyard. It was a nice summer day, not too hot and not too warm, with a cool breeze that made it bearable to be outside.

“You do?” You question after swallowing a bite of your sandwich.

“Uh huh. But you need to leave the house,” he bluntly states, but immediately backtracks upon seeing the look on your face. “I have to get something ready and you can’t be here.”

“Seriously?” He nods and takes a bite of his food.

“But a couple of the wives wanted to take you to get your nails done, I heard,” he continues. “They’ll be here in, like twenty minutes.”

Thankfully, you were already dressed and presentable, so it was now just a waiting game for whoever was taking you to show up.

Martin’s girlfriend and Brett’s wife pick you up and take you to the nail salon, acting as if they just wanted to have a girls day so you didn’t suspect anything more. They keep the comments to themselves, mostly, trying not to let anything slip past and ruin the proposal that Andrei was preparing for with Seth, Jack, and Pyotr.

Andrei texts the girls once they have finished setting everything up, letting them know they no longer need to keep you any longer, but they had planned to take you to the bakery just a few ways down from the nail salon before taking you back home.

And when they do, you are astonished. Andrei welcomes you in, wearing a nice dress shirt and pants.

“Hello. I have this dress for you to change into. We have a romantic night planned, so if you could get changed fast and come back out with me, we can go.”

You are so stunned by his words, you are frozen in place. He laughs softly and hugs you for a few seconds.

“Come on, babygirl. Are you okay?”

“Andrei, what’s going on?” He takes a deep breath and smiles.

“I wanted to plan a special night just for you. I haven’t been the best boyfriend I could be, so I’m making up for it.” Tears fill your eyes as you take the bag with the dress from his hands and walk to the bathroom.

“Also, I placed your shoes right outside the door for when you’re ready,” he calls from the other side of the door. As you get dressed and fix your hair a little in the mirror, you take a deep breath to ease your nerves.

The dress he picked out for you was a deep maroon, with lacy sleeves that went down to your wrists, and the flowy, tulle skirt ends just above your knees. It fit you perfectly and complimented your skin tone so well.

Stepping outside, you see he placed your favorite pair of black heels right next to the door, so you didn’t trip over them. You step into them and when you are ready, you walk back out to Andrei, who paces in the living room, waiting for you.

He hears you step into the room and he stops. His brown eyes are wide with awe, and his hands shake ever so lightly, enough for you to not even notice.

“You look…I’m not even have the words,” his grammar starts slipping a little, as what usually happens when he gets nervous.

“Thank you. And you look as handsome as ever,” you murmur, running your hands up his chest and to his shoulders as his hands land on your waist, pulling you in for a kiss.

“Come with me, I have to show you something,” he whispers against your lips, moving his hands to take ahold of yours. He brings you out to the backyard, and that’s when you see it.

There are rose petals leading up to a makeshift arch with fake vines and ivy and white flowers mixed together. Your hand flies up to your mouth as Andrei chuckles. He helps you down the steps and through the yard, stopping right in front of the arch, which was directly in the path of where the sunlight hits in the backyard at sunset.

His eyes shine in the golden sunlight, tears already forming in them, and everything finally clicks in your mind.

“(Y/N), you have been such an important person in my life for the past five years. I never expected to fall in love with you, but it has been the best thing that has happened to me and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I love you with all my heart, and seeing you with the playoff jacket all the wives and girlfriends get, I knew I wanted to make it official. So…”

He pulls out the ring box and gets down on one knee, opening the box to show the ring. It glimmers in the dimming sunlight, sitting perfectly in the box.

“Will you marry me?” You burst into tears as he finally asks, your hands shaking like crazy as he stares up at you, waiting for an answer.

“Yes,” you choke out, throwing yourself into his arms. He hides his face in your shoulder, the photographer stepping out further from where she was standing on the deck once you two got into place.

Andrei pulls back to kiss you, his hands cupping your cheeks, wiping your tears with his thumbs. He then carefully plucks the ring from the box and slides it onto your shaking hand. Getting up from his knee, he pulls you into a tight hug, his own tears finally falling down his cheeks.

Another sweet kiss is planted on your lips, his hands quivering as they cradle your face. Your hands wrap around his wrists to try and ease his own nerves, smiling widely against his lips, the kiss breaking from doing so.

“I love you,” you whisper against his mouth. “I cannot wait to marry you.”

Just then, Seth, Jack, Pyotr, Martin and his girlfriend, and Brett and his wife erupt into cheers on the porch behind the photographer. Andrei raises your left hand with his right one and the group comes running over to celebrate with you guys.

The girls immediately ask to see the ring as the guys all chat with Andrei, congratulating him for everything working out.

After talking a little while longer and more pictures taken, Andrei wraps his arm around your waist as everyone chats amongst themselves.

“So is this why you’ve been so weird lately?” You finally ask him, hoping that was the reason.

“Oh yeah,” he responds instantly. “I was so nervous and I didn’t know how to ask you. I bought the ring months ago but knew I had to do it soon.”

“It’s been months?” He nods and kisses your temple.

“But I knew I was going to marry you a couple years ago anyway.”

#andrei svechnikov #andrei svechnikov imagines #andrei svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov imagine #andrei svechnikov fanfic #svechy #carolina hurricanes #carolina hurricanes fanfic #hockey fanfic #nhl fanfic #nhl imagines #imagines #fanfiction #fanfic

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feyhunter78 · 3 months

Note

Hi!! I’ve been thinking about that one scene in 10 Things I Hate About You, when Patrick walks Kat to the swings when she’s drunk and he says “Leave it to you to use big words when you're shitfaced.” Except! Kat is Nerd Miguel who somehow ended up drunk at some frat party or something, and Patrick is reader who has to deal with his antics. I imagine him spewing random scientific words/facts that reader tries her best to understand. All while she’s just trying to sober him up a bit. This lil scenario has been running through my head, and who best to share with than you!

(The chokehold you’re Miguel, specifically nerd Miguel, has on me is insane! It’s a great distraction while at work! <3)

I love that scene so much!!!! I made this a bit different, but I think I still hit the mark for ya anon <3 (Also this is a normal house party bc guys that are not in a frat are not allowed to attend frat events just like with sororities!)

House Parties

Art cred: Treelover_5

Nerd!Miguel masterlist

You weave through Brett’s parents’ guest house on the edge of town, downing your drink as you search for Miguel. It was really nice of Brett to invite you and Miguel to his pre-winter break bash. You know Miguel doesn’t party much, and Brett has been trying to encourage him to come out of his shell, so this was the perfect opportunity.

The sound of chanting draws your attention, and you see Miguel surrounded by a few other friends of Brett’s. Brett seems to be explaining something to him, car keys in hand. You drove here, so you know the keys aren’t Miguel’s, which makes you feel a bit better.

“Chug, chug, chug.” They chant, and you watch as Brett and Miguel simultaneously shotgun their beers, the foam dripping down Miguel’s tan skin.

Smash. You think instantly, your brain supplying you with images of what Miguel might look like as he comes up from between your legs, his lips, and chin slick with your arousal.

Then Miguel throws the beer down and throws his arms up victoriously.

Brett finishes, then throws his beer down as well and hooks an arm around Miguel’s neck, bringing him down to his level. “My boy Miguel has done it again! Absolute beast of a man!”

The other guys cheer, and you see Miguel smile shyly.

He’s been gaining in popularity, not that he really cares, nor do you, but it makes you happy that he’s made some new friends. Even if those friends challenge him to shotgun races.

Miguel spots you before you can even breach the circle and latches onto you. “Y/N, I won, did you see?”

Brett gives you a look that means dude should probably get some air, and you nod in response.

“Yeah I did, hey Miguel, you wanna step outside with me?”

“Yes, always.” He says instantly, his lips far too close to your neck for you to feel normal about.

You guide him through the crowd and out the door, his arm slung over your shoulders. He’s so heavy, all those stupid hot muscles making him dead weight as he mumbles to himself incoherently.

“What was that sweet boy?” You ask, when you hear something that sounds like your name.

“Did you know that the hydrochloric acid in the human stomach is so strong it can dissolve metal? Thin metal, mind you, but still, metal.” Miguel says, his cheeks red, his glasses perched precariously on the edge of his nose, and a goofy smile on his face.

“Wow, that’s crazy.” You say, struggling under the weight of him as you try to lug him over to a nearby porch swing, the neatly trimmed grass around you littered with solo cups and soaked with various spilled drinks.

“And beer—beer is twice as fizzy as champagne. I know this for a fact, I had four or so beers? They taste bad, did you know that?”

“Yeah, house parties usually have pretty cheap beer.” You laugh, swaying a little when Miguel leans on you.

“And cheetahs, super inbreed, ten thousand years ago, taboos were broken, and now they’re all…ya know, the way they are.” He continues on, letting out a surprise oof, when you slide him onto the white porch swing, the weathered green cushions not doing much to break his fall.

“Very cool, so now can you tell me what the hell you were drinking in the twenty minutes I left you alone? Besides beer? Because Miguel, you are so fucked up.” You ask, sitting next to him, your legs tucked beside you as you turn to face him, an affectionate smile on your face.

He drags a hand down his face, and his glasses fall into his lap. He pouts at them, a small aw leaving his lips.

You pick them up and hand them back to him, and he clumsily puts them back on.

“Brett suggested we do shots before the races, he passed his midterm, we were celebrating with him.”

Fucking Brett. You loved the guy, he was nice, nonthreatening, watched out for you when you were in the Sig Epp house, but he also was a menace, who wanted everyone to be as drunk as he was.

“Miguel, you’re a big guy, but you don’t have Brett’s tolerance.” You pat his chest consolingly.

Miguel looks at you, eyes a little hazy, his shirt unbuttoned far more than it normally would be, his hair ruffled. “I’m tougher than I look.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” He leans his head back against the swing, staring up at the stars. “You know a cloud can weigh around a million pounds?”

“I did not know that.” You respond, trying to see if you can check his pupils without him noticing.

He notices and rolls his head to face you. “Everyone blames women when they don’t have sons, but it’s actually male genes that decide it.”

“I did know that one, actually.” You say, as you run your hands through his hair, pushing it out of his face.

He smiles, and you swear it’s brighter than any star in the sky. “You’re so smart, y/n.”

You’re taken aback for a second, heat rushing to your cheeks. “Thanks, that means a lot coming from you.”

“So smart and so, so pretty. I know I said it’s on me, but will you give me a girl y/n? I want a daughter with you, my brains, your everything else, she’d be unstoppable.” He says, his words slurring together. Then he falls forward with a yelp, hands, and elbows hitting the dirt.

You sit frozen in shock, staring down at Miguel, before you snap out of it and scramble to help him. “Shit, Miguel, are you okay?”

He holds up his right hand, it’s bleeding. “Just put some sugar on it, it’ll heal faster.”

“Full of fun facts, aren’t you?” It’s another trip back inside to find a sink and a band-aid, his words still bouncing around in your head.

I want a daughter with you.

Fuck, he’s going to kill you one day, and you’ll let him.

Not me doing a little callback to what Miguel thinks at the end of his encounter with drunk y/n hehe

TL: @bat-bae, @nyctophilic0vitnir, @smokeywhalee, @obi-mom-kenobi, @prowlingforfood, @penggion, @crystal-crax, @oharasfilipinawife, @generalkenobitrash, @melsimps, @chrishy973, @farrowroyale, @palesatan, @scaryplanetdestroyer, @denzmallows

#meg's writing #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #nerd!miguel #nerd miguel #college!miguel #college!reader #sorority!reader

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sevcasejay1chicago · 5 months

Text

Im with you- Matt Casey

Summary: When an ovarian cyst ruptures on the job, Matt and Firehouse 51 take care of you.

Warnings: vomiting, cursing, probably inaccurate medical stuff even though I do have PCOS and get ovarian cysts.

Authors note: You asked and I’m delivering. Here’s a fic I wrote a while back. I hope you enjoy!

——————————

You and Matt have been together for a couple years. You have been best friends since you both joined 51, straight from academy. You and Matt shared everything. Your feelings, thoughts, personal issues, a bed. Everything was out in the open. Though Matt was your lieutenant, you never let it effect your job or your relationship. You said it was one of the perks of starting off in the house together. He saw you and your strength. He knew you could take his spot any day, but you were content with just being part of the company.

You started feeling some major discomfort on a call. You were doing a sweep with Severide when you kicked open a door, causing the fire to blow back, sending you and Kelly flying through the air.

“Y/N!” You were sure you heard Kelly scream your name, but your ears rung as you laid against the wall. Kelly quickly shut the door and made his way toward you. “Look at me! Say something!” He yelled, grabbing you by your jacket and making you face him.

You were a little further toward the middle of the door than Kelly, which kept him from flying far. You just went through the air hitting the wall HARD. You were disoriented and had some major ringing in your ears.

When you couldn’t focus on him, Kelly called a mayday of sorts through the radio. “Emergency! Emergency! Fire fighter down. I need a medic to meet me out front.” Kelly yelled, not wasting another second before he pulled me up and into his arms. “I’ve gotcha. Your okay.”

“Who?” Chief Boden asked.

“Y/L/N.” Kelly said just before he broke into a sprint when he saw the exit.

Outside, Dawson and Brett were waiting with a stretcher. As soon as Kelly put you down, Dawson was ripping the mask off your face. The light assaulted your eyes, but the fresh air was like a kick in the butt, which was exactly what you needed.

“I’m fine.” You murmured, attempting to push yourself up.

“Y/N.” Dawson said, pushing you back down with a shake of her head. “You were unresponsive for almost two minutes. I need to check you out.”

I shook my head, regretting it as soon as I did it. I laid back, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I said I’m fine Dawson.” I growled out. Finding the strength to sit up, I swung my legs over the edge of the gurney and tried to stand. My legs failed me as I collapsed into Kelly with a pained gasp.

“Fine my ass Y/L/N.” Kelly said, picking you up and putting you back on the stretcher.

“What hurts hunny?” Brett hummed, allowing Kelly to rip your jacket off as Dawson ran to help a civilian.

“My right side. Like all of a sudden.” You gritted out, swatting Kelly’s hand away as he palpitated the area. “Ow Sev.”

“Sorry.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “It’s not too hard like internal bleeding.” He informed Brett. “I’m going to go update Casey. He looks ready to abandon the company to come check on you. You ladies talk.” Kelly said, leaning over to place a kiss on your forehead. “I’ll be back.”

Once Kelly walked off, you snuck a glance in Casey’s direction. He was talking to the crew, giving orders, but his eyes stayed trained on you.

“When did this start? I don’t see any bruising or signs of a contusion.” Brett murmured, moving back to let the sunlight hit that area.

“I mean, it’s been a dull pain for a while now, but this is the first time it’s been bad enough to effect me.” I said, leaning my head back and breathing deeply. “I have an appointment set with my gyno tomorrow. I’m fine, really. Just extra sore.” I tried to reason, but I was fighting to keep back a sudden wave of nausea. “It’s uh.” I swallowed thickly before continuing. “It’s a normal woman thing I think. Matt knows. Just give me an anti-inflammatory and zofran and I’m good.”

“Zofran?” Brett asked, stopping as she was pushing me to the ambo, which I suddenly realized meant that Kelly was back and helping.

“Yeah. Kinda nauseous.” I said, shaking my head. Kelly hummed and placed a hand on my thigh.

Brett did a thorough head trauma exam before giving me the all clear once she was sure that I didn’t have a concussion. Kelly spent the entire time texting while I was being treated. He was listening and keeping Matt up to date as I waiting to be discharged from the rig.

“Casey said to ride back with Ambo and go straight to his office when we return.” Kelly said, leaning up to place another kiss on my forehead, jumping out of the rig before I could protest. He hit the doors and Dawson, whom I never noticed jumped back into the rig, drove back to the house.

“Well, looks like I’m off the rest of this shift.” I sighed, leaning back and trying to relax as Brett dimmed the lights to the rig.

“Might not be such a bad thing. He’s just looking out for you.” Brett said, sitting on the bench and buckling me around the waist to the stretcher before buckling herself in and propping her feet up to use as a makeshift desk. “Get some rest. We got 20 minutes till we get back.”

I gave her a confused look. “We shouldn’t be that far out.” I mumbled.

“Dawson has to pick up lunch.” Brett replied. “Just relax and enjoy the ride.”

——————————TimeSkip————————-

I woke up to someone softly pushing the hair away from my face.

“Hey Hunny. Come rest in my office.” Matt whispered, trying his best to coax me awake.

“I don’t feel good.” I whispered, leaning my head forward and into his hand.

“I know.” Matt soothed. “I’ll carry you.”

Matt unlocked my seatbelt and gently lifted me into his arms. Doors were opened for us as we made our way through the house. The common area went quiet as we passed through, shuffling could be heard as doors were opened until Matt got to his office.

“Hey Matt.” Kelly whispered, stepping in and closing the door. “Brett gave me these. How’s she doing?”

Kelly shook a sick bag out and put it on the side table and then stashed the rest on the desk. Matt laid me down slowly, pulling the covers over me gently and turning me onto my side into the recovery position. I kept my eyes closed, wondering why Brett never gave me the Zofran, making me focus on not throwing up.

“Doesn’t feel well.” Matt said, sitting next to me and pushing my hair back again. “Baby. Kelly has a sick bag here if you need it. I gotta talk to Boden and fill him in. I’ll be right back.” He said, leaning in to kiss my forehead. “Can you stay with her a minute?” Matt asked Kelly.

“Anything for you guys. You know that.” Kelly said, standing and switching spots with Matt. The door closed softly as Kelly sat next to me. He placed a hand on my back and rubbed soothingly. “Let’s be real. Need to go to med?” Kelly asked, knowing I wouldn’t fess up to Matt unless it was dire.

“No.” I gritted out, frustrated by the whole situation. The pain was subsiding, but the nausea was ramping. “It’s a girl thing.” I simplified.

“Your sure?” Kelly asked, leaning forward and grabbing the sick bag as he saw me pale.

“Mhmm.” I said, not daring to move.

We sat there in silence. I was trying to steady my breathing as Kelly continued to rub my back. He was at a loss. He knew I hated being sick, as he has dealt with a sick me before, but he knew it was gonna happen.

“Sit up. I know it’s gonna happen.” Kelly said, moving to stand and help gently guide me into a sitting position. “Hold this. I’m gonna call Matt.” He instructed, placing the bag in my hand. Kelly went to the door and opened it, yelling for Matt. He knew not to leave me.

The nausea was winning and I began to freak out as Kelly called out again. “Kel- hurlk” I tried to warn him, but got cut off with an unproductive heave.

The door slammed shut as Kelly raced toward me. “Fuck.” He muttered, helping me hold the bag under my chin. With his other hand, he used his radio to call for Matt. “Case. You’re needed in your office. Now.” He said into the radio. A quick “copy” from Matt was all that was heard before I started retching harshly. “Shhhhhhh. Breathe.” Kelly murmured. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

“What’s going on?” Matt exclaimed, running and sliding to a stop in front of me. “Baby? It’s okay. I’m here.” He soothed , taking my hand and pushing my hair back. “Dawson’s gonna check your vitals, okay?”

I nodded as I finally started throwing up all the breakfast that I forced down. Kelly kept holding the bag and rubbing my back, Matt held my hand and kept my hair out of the splash zone, and Dawson went about checking my vitals.

“Pulse is fast. Oxygen is mid 90s. Pressure is slightly low, but not worrisome.” She said. “Any other symptoms?” Gabbi asked Matt.

“Ovarian cysts. Think one ruptured on that call.” Matt muttered. “Never seen her this bad before.”

“Does it hurt, Y/N?” Gabbi asked. “Just squeeze once for no and twice for yes.” Gabbi took my hand and felt me squeeze once. “Good. No pain.”

“What does that mean?” Kelly asked, noting how much I was vomiting and the sweat building up on the back of my neck.

“So, sometimes a cyst can rupture and be infected. This is her body getting rid of it, which is probably why Brett didn’t give her anything for the nausea.” Gabbi explained, writing some stuff down. “If she starts running a fever, tell us and we will take her straight to Med. I’d suggest camping out here for a few hours to make sure she doesn’t spike one. Then you can go home and get her rested.” Gabbi said, patting Matt on the shoulder and walking out.

“Breathe sweetheart. Your gonna need to switch bags in a second if you need to.” Matt said, trying to see my face better. He reached over and grabbed a new one, making a quick switch with Kelly and holding the new bag under my chin as Kelly disposed of the old one.

Talking could be heard as he opened the door. Gabbi and Boden’s voices floating in.

Suddenly, a cool cloth was placed on the back of my neck. “Herrmann got you a rag Y/N.” Kelly said, resuming his post of rubbing my back. “Chief has Herrmann taking lead on truck for the remainder of shift and offered to let me hang around to help unless Squad is needed.”

“Thanks Kel.” Matt said, patting his friend on the knee. “You done baby?” Matt asked, noticing the few coughs I was letting out, but also the lack of vomit.

“Yeah.” I breathed, leaning forward and resting my head on Matt’s shoulder. “It’s awful.” I moaned, resting my forehead into the crook of his neck.

“I know.” Matt whispered, reaching up and wiping my face with the rag from my neck. “Wanna brush your teeth and shower before taking a nap?”

I nodded and tried to stand when Matt helped me up, but swayed dangerously as I suddenly became lightheaded.

“Woah.” Kelly said, bracing me from behind. “You okay?” He asked, keeping me steady with hands around my waist.

“Yeah.” I breathed. “Just lightheaded s’all.” I closed my eyes and leaned my head onto Matt’s shoulder again.

“I gotcha.” Matt said, picking me up and taking me toward the bathroom. “Can you grab her go bag Sev?” Matt called over his shoulder.

“On it.” Kelly replied, jogging toward the locker room.

Matt wasted no time in getting me to the bathroom. He sat me down on the counter and pulled my head back into his neck.

Herrmann came into the bathroom with a sprite in his hand. “Cindy used to have this problem. This outta help.” He said, placing the can on the other side of the sink. “I’ve got Mills running to get some popsicles too.”

“Thanks Chris.” Matt said. “You’re a good man.”

“Anything for her.” He said, rubbing my arm. “It’s gonna be okay. You just get to feeling better.” He then patted Matt on the shoulder. “Take care of my girl.”

“Always.” Matt said, turning and placing a kiss to my head as Herrmann walked out and Kelly walked in.

“Got your CFD hoodie.” Kelly said to Matt, “I got everything else out of her locker though. Toiletries and her clothes. Also grabbed your stuff too Case.” He said, putting everything on the counter. “Need anything else?”

“Nah.” Matt said, shaking his head as he looked around. “Just set some towels in here. I’m gonna shower with her. I don’t trust her balance.” He said, rubbing my back.

“Good man.” Kelly said, patting Matt on the back. “Holler if you need anything else.”

“Thanks Sev.” Matt said, watching the Squad lieutenant leave. Finally, he turned to face me. “Ready to get cleaned up?” He asked gently, pulling away to see my face.

“Then nap?” I murmured, pouting at my boyfriend.

“Nap and cuddles.” Matt confirmed, nodding his head.

With that confirmation, I was satisfied and found the strength to get cleaned up. After brushing my teeth and gargling twice, Matt helped me off the counter and to the showers. He sat me on the bench before striping and going in to turn on the water. With quick persuasion, Matt was able to talk me into the shower. He made promises to keep me steady and to sit me down if I needed it, seeing as Mills just finished scrubbing the showers.

Once under the water, which was a little cooler than I usually liked it, Matt kept a secure hold on my waist, leaned down and kissed my head, then adjusted me so that my back was getting the brunt of the shower.

“Mmmm.” I moaned, practically melting in Matt’s hold. “S’ nice.” I mumbled into Matt’s chest, pressing my forehead into it.

“I know baby.” Matt said. “We can stand here for a moment, but we need to get cleaned up and get you resting.” He said, reaching around me and engulfing me in a hug. “You just relax.” He whispered.

“Mkay.” I sighed, losing any fight I could have left.

When Matt noticed me getting heavier, he made quick work of washing my hair and body before calling Kelly.

Matt only trusted you with very few men, one of which was Kelly Severide. You all had made a quick bond when in the academy and Kelly picked you up off the floor more times than you could count, but that was before Matt. Matt didn’t like overstepping, but Kelly had no problems helping you out in a bind and was there for you in more ways at the beginning than Matt, but you knew it had to do with Haily and not because Matt didn’t like you, so you never let it affect your relationship now. Kelly knew his boundaries, even now, and was the one person you trust other than Matt.

Kelly walked into the bathroom and scooped you up in a towel. Once Kelly had the towel firmly secure, he took your microfiber head wrap towel and wrapped your hair up in it. Then, he helped guide you into Matt’s CFD hoodie and stayed with you leaning into his shoulder until Matt came out of the showers.

“Thanks Kelly.” Matt said. “One more favor.” Matt said, cringing slightly into himself. He hated asking for help, but you were pretty out of it at this point. “Mind getting more bags from Brett and Y/N’s fan from her bunk and taking it to my office?” He asked, pulling on his underwear and pants before trading with Kelly.

“Hey man.” Kelly said, taking Matt by the shoulder. “Don’t sweat it. You guys are family. I’ve already got it all taken care of.” He smirked.

“You’re a life saver.” Matt said, turning and hugging Kelly once he was sure you wouldn’t fall over.

“I get that a lot.” Kelly laughed, the sound echoing behind the man as he walked to the door and exited the bathroom.

Matt helped me into some pants and left our stuff, claiming he’d get it all later, but knowing that someone else was probably waiting to come in behind you both and get everything situated. Once in his office, Matt laid me down near the edge of the bed, closed the blinds, and turned off the lights. He left the blinds connected to Kelly’s office window cracked enough to give him some light to see you, but also give Kelly a way to see if you and Matt needed help.

Once the fan was turned on and he was sure the radio was turned off and I didn’t need anything else, Matt crawled into the bed behind me, spooning me with an arm around my waist. He carefully rubbed my stomach and placed little kisses on the back of my neck.

“Get some rest baby.” Matt whispered, peppering my shoulder with kisses before leaning up and kissing my cheek. “I’m with you. We will get through this.”

Tag list:

@treehouse-mouse

@shadowmeadowsworld

@sorry-i-spaced

@zephyrmonkey

@allisonargent144

@amie134

@lane-rodgers-barnes

@pensfan5871

@dumb-fawkin-bitch

@marvel-and-chicago-fan

@daggersquadphantom

@mattangel11

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@100yroldteenagers

@senjoritanana

#one chicago #one chicago x reader #matt casey #kelly severide #matt casey x reader #comfort #kelly severide x reader #fluff #pcos #tw emeto #tw emetophobia #emetophobia

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dragon-chica · 11 months

Text

Creep Alert - Teen Wolf Preference

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Because someone has made me very uncomfortable at weekly pinball and I would like to take Theo.

Stiles: Okay he's not always the most observant person around, he will be talking to himself trying to figure something out or keep walking not realizing someone else has come up and gone all up in your space. When he turns about and you are visibly uncomfortable he RUNS back, trip/sliding between you and the guy pushing his hand off. Might have yelled "CREEP ALERT" on his way over, mile a minute talking asking if you're okay, did they do anything? name drops that he is the son of the sheriff and can get that guy written up for harassment. "Do you want to file a report on him? I'll call dad right now. Don't you go anywhere, we're not done here- PARRISH!" Spots a squad car and shouts over (it was not Parrish) and it becomes mess. But it certainly did the job.

Scott: Good of heart, dumb of ass. Despite his wolf instinct telling him to destroy the threat, he comes over the moment your scent turns distressed. He comes up right next to you with a comforting hand on your arm and inserts himself into the conversation. Genuinely not realizing this guy's intentions or what's going on besides you're uncomfortable and asks what's going on. Usually he's enough to diffuse the situation, but if someone's persistent he'll instead have you both leave.

Lydia: Has been in this kind of scenario too many times that she sees it coming across the room before anyone talks to you. She's learned exactly how to handle herself, either sweetly or with words that cut. Or if she had a 'big, strong, man' to handle it for her. Lydia's at your side immediately, telling them you're not interested and how far she'll shove her heel up their ass.

Liam: Sure, mess with the S/O of the werewolf kid with IED, that's a good idea. He doesn't usually stray far from your side but a few steps away was enough for someone to take his spot and feel a little too comfortable getting in your space and questioning you. His gaze shoots to you as discomfort sours your scent. He speeds over, eyes flashing gold and getting right in their face with you behind him. Not afraid to get physical if they want to keep it up.

Also if it's Brett coming to flirt with you, either because he's a slut or just to try and piss Liam off and you really are uncomfortable with his advances, all bets are off. Claws are out and he wants blood, it's a whole scene.

Isaac: At first it's a little harder for Isaac to come to your rescue, even though he's a werewolf now he's not used to the kind of confidence of doing something like this. You were always the one to try and protect him, and never faulted him when he didn't come to your defense, just trying to make sure you were okay after.

But now he's a werewolf, he can do better. He stronger. Intimidating. Despite everything, he still had to psych himself up walking over to you, who is obviously uncomfortable. He's not sure how to insert himself, but he is quite noticeable and doesn't have to do much. Being so much taller (and chest puffed) than your pest, they take the smart move to leave. Visibly deflate and swallows after that interaction and asks if you're okay. Gets bashful when you call him your knight.

Malia: No filter and very brash. People have thought of messing with her but the energy she gives off and feral look in her eye is almost always enough to deter them first. You though, are not so lucky. Already very standoffish, once she sense someone is making you uncomfortable she is staring them down and growling, barely keeping her claws in even as they leave.

Derek: He normally is overprotective of you, usually you just roll your eyes at his worries. But you certainly feel safe with a scowling sourwolf beside you. Until he's gone a few minutes too long and someone thinks that's their chance.

When he sees someone crowding in on you he's speeding right through the crowd and shoving them backwards hard enough to make them stumble and once they're thoroughly scared shitless by his hardened stare to flee, he's trying to get you to leave grumbling how "we never should have come here anyway."

#Teen Wolf x reader #Teen Wolf imagine #Stiles Stilinski x reader #Lydia Martin x reader #Isaac Lahey x reader #Liam Dunbar x reader #Derek Hale x reader #Malia Tate x reader #Scott McCall x reader #my stuff

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misseviehyde · 5 months

Text

PLAYED

Ian couldn't work it out. He was the smartest guy at school and yet this had him stumped.

As his fingers addictively smashed the buttons of his controller - he couldn't conceive why his bully had given him this amazing game. It was so fucking good and he thought Brett hated him. Yet - yesterday the bully had slid a jewel case into his hand and told him he should give this game a go.

'The Simps', was the most addictive computer game Ian had ever played. Hour after hour seemed to slip by and yet his hunger for the game never diminished.

In the game you controlled your character and made life choices for them. Your choices would play out and the objective was to make choices that brought your character more popularity and pleasure.

The game was so awesome but it was annoying that for some reason his character had pre-loaded as 'Brett.' Now he was forced to pilot an avatar of his popular bully around the game - but that hadn't stopped him from enjoying it so far.

Ian was badly addicted. His hair was unkempt, and he hadn't been to college for three days. Take-away food wrappers littered the room and his eyes were dark from lack of sleep.

His phone buzzed and irritated by the distraction he glanced down. It was his lovely girlfriend Riley again. Why did she have to keep bothering him? A message flashed up.

"Babe... where are you? I miss you."

Ian felt a flash of anger at his stupid girl. How dare she get in the way of him playing the game? The game was all that mattered.

He and Riley had been dating for about a year after finally getting out of the friendzone. She was a nerd too, shy in front of others - but with him cute, with a zany sense of humour.

Since he had started playing the game he had hardly seen her, and now rather than missing her he felt a kind of panic that she might take him away from the game.

Switching his phone to airplane mode he returned his attention to The Simps.

He was just entering a new level. A prompt box with his mission flashed up. "Seduce and corrupt your victims girlfriend into your bad little bitch." This sounded fun.

His avatar was entering an area that looked amazingly like his actual college. Pushing Brett forward he watched the other characters getting out of his way. He'd leveled up his strength at the gym and no one in this game was gonna mess with him.

Finally he spotted his target by a water fountain. A sad looking girl with glasses, shortish hair and a plain black hoody. Walking his avatar over he initiated a dialogue box.

It was amazing but this character looked a lot like his girlfriend Riley, so when the prompt asked him to give this character a name, he put Riley.

Riley was crying. Checking out her stats, Ian saw that she was sad because her boyfriend was ignoring her and she felt lonely.

Grinning, Ian knew just what to do. His character in the game had recently acquired an ability that allowed him to adjust other characters stats.

Entering Riley's head he began to play the mini-game.

In this screen it was possible to tweak and adjust her personality and desires using corruption points. He needed to turn this goody goody into a bad bitch. He was able to use the loneliness she felt as a starting point - that could be converted into corruption points to use on her personality.

He needed to bring down the love meter for her stupid boyfriend. To do that he converted her loneliness into anger. How dare her boyfriend ignore her! Corruption points began to rack up.

He grinned as he stoked the fires of her anger and hatred, watching the love meter start to drop as she began to make other adjustments.

Now to give her something else to focus on. Something that would let him start turning her into a bitch.

Ian began to increase her horniness attribute and subtly alter her desires. A mini-menu showed him that Riley didn't have any major kinks - so he started to add some.

Leather kink activated. Size Queen kink activated. Smoking kink activated.

Having run out of corrruption points to make further adjustments, Ian came out of the mini game and had Brett offer Riley a cigarette to cheer her up.

She eagerly took it and began to smoke groaning as the nicotine took hold and the thrill of doing something so naughty began to rack up more corruption points.

Removing his leather jacket, he had Brett offer it to her and taking off her hoody, she snuggled into it, groaning at the feeling of the warm leather against her skin.

Ian grinned as he saw the digital Riley's lust meter begin to rise and her avatars eyes began to drop down more and more to Brett's crotch.

A few levels ago, Ian had increased his dick size attribute and now his digital avatar was rocking nine fat inches. Riley's lust was rising.

Offering the girl a ride on his motorbike, Ian grinned with satisfaction as her hand slipped into Brett's.

Going back into the sub menu, he saw he now had plenty more corruption points to spend. He began to increase Riley's attitude, giving her a bad and bitchy approach.

A naughty sway came into her characters hips as he began to reduce her interest in college and books and pumped up her narcissim and sluttiness. Pulling down the intelligence meter, he boosted her recklessness and grinned as he saw her love meter for her boyfriend drop to a paltry ten percent.

Anothet meter on the screen told Ian that the Riley characters panties were now at 100% soaking. She was breathing heavily and as they passed the girls toilets she suddenly pulled Brett inside.

Mashing buttons on his console, Ian grinned as the avatar of Riley sank to her knees and began to give Brett a blowjob.

The room filled with a sucking slurping sound as the ultra realistic sound effects and cinematics kicked in and he sat back and relaxed for a few minutes.

His own small cock was rock hard and watching a digital avatar that looked and sounded so like his real girlfriend suck a bullies nine inch dick was so fucking hot.

Riley moaned and slurped, Brett's cock going deeper and deeper down her dirty throat as her bitchy/slut meter continued to rise and her love meter began to drop rapidly.

"Yesss Brett, you are my boyfriend now. I hate that loser Ian," popped up a text box. "Fuck me and make me your slut."

Ian frowned. He didn't remember inputting his own name into the game. What the hell?

On the screen the couple were now fucking. Riley was bent over the sink moaning as Brett's nine inchs pounded in and out of her slutty body.

Her clothing had changed. There were now so many corruption points to spend they were automatically being assigned to skills and attributes.

Dick sucking. Anal. Titjob. Dirty talk.

Bit by bit Riley was becoming the dirtiest, baddest bitch possible.

A spiked collar now surrounded her neck and her sensible clothing had now become a mesh onesie. Black stockings encased her legs and she had knee length biker boots on

Brett's leather jacket now fit her like a glove and her red lips were parted in a snarl of pleasure as she pushed back on his big cock.

Long nails sprang from her fingers and naughty tattoos swirled into life on her lithe body. She was a fucking bad biker bitch now and her tight holes were for bad boys for Brett to use.

Both characters hit orgasm at the same time and Ian had to turn the volume down on his TV due to embarassment.

Cum dripping down her fishnets, the new Riley lit a cigarette and threw her arms around her new boyfriend.

The words 'LEVEL COMPLETE' popped up.

Suddenly a wave of tiredness hit Ian. For the first time in days the addiction to play the game was gone.

Saving the game, he turned it off and groggily rubbed his face. He felt so weak.

A sudden banging on the door startled him and he went to answer. Opening it he gaped as he saw Brett on his doorstep, motorbike parked on the drive and next to him with a wicked smirk on her slutty face Riley.

"Oh look babe, it's my tiny dicked pathetic loser boyfriend."

Ian gawped. She looked exactly like the slut from the game. She looked like an evil biker bitch.

"I want my game back nerd," laughed Brett. "I got what I wanted and now you don't need it anymore. I knew you'd be a good player and now your girlfriend is the hot bitchy slut I always knew she could be. Thanks for corrupting her for me."

Kissing Riley, the two made out for a moment and Brett slid his hands possessively all over her body. "She's mine now loser. Now get my fucking game and go back to pumping your hand like a loser."

Ian obeyed and watching Brett mounting his bike with Riley behind him felt tears in his eyes.

Now it all made sense. Brett had used him. The game was magic and it had actually transformed Riley.

He had been... played...

#evie hyde #bitchification #f2f transformation #f2f corruption #bad girl #biker #magic game #bully #evil bitch

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dilemmaontwolegs · 5 months

Text

Already Gone || MV1 {7}

Pairing: Max Verstappen x spy!fem!reader Summary: After the attack in your home, Max is serious about learning to fight. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, alcohol, sparring, mentions of illegal activities WC: 1.8k

F1 Masterlist || previous chapter || next chapter

“Are you sure you should be drinking? You might have a concussion,” Max worried as you sipped the gin and tonic Christian had made.

“Relax, the lady’s earned a drink or two,” Christian said as he sat down with his own. “Nice job.”

You clinked your glass with your bosses before drinking half of the strong beverage in one gulp and sighing happily. “Thank you. Dare I ask where Brett’s taking them?”

Christian chuckled and shook his head. “Best to have deniability.”

Max looked uncomfortable at the conversation as he shifted in his seat beside you, his fingers massaging your shoulder that his arm draped across.

“I know you don’t like it, babe, but this is the reality of the situation,” you said softly as you took his hand and traced the lines that cut across his palm, not that you believed in the life line or the love line crap. “They wanted to break your hands. They weren’t here to have a pretty conversation that magically convinced you to lose your races. They wanted to make sure you could never race again.”

“I’ve increased the security on Checo but they seem to be focusing their energy on you.”

“Of course, Max is the bigger threat,” you stated obviously. “Anyone who can read the standings knows that.” Tilting your head towards the principal you cocked an eyebrow and asked, “You don’t happen to have half a billion hidden in your mattress?”

Christian scoffed as he swirled his drink, clinking the ice against the glass. “I’m not Pablo Escabar, and I don’t think my wife would sleep comfortably on the lumps.”

“That’s a shame, his personal army could’ve been helpful.”

“What do you want half a billion dollars for anyway?”

“Euros, actually.” You grabbed your phone off the coffee table and opened the app for the stock exchange, scrolling through the companies of interest you had saved before tossing it on his lap. “They wouldn’t sell the majority of their shares but there is a sizable chunk up for grabs. Certainly enough to get a seat on the chairboard.”

Christian looked at the trading name and chuffed at the thought of being a board member at Scuderia Ferrari before he took a sip of his drink. “Let me see what I can move about.”

“Wait, you’re not serious?” Max baulked at the idea before helping himself to your drink at the look you gave him. “Fuck, you are serious.”

“If you need a shell company I have a few old ones to spare.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Christian chuckled as he finished his drink and started to head to the door. “I’d get that fixed pronto if I were you.”

You gave him the thumbs up as he left while Max walked him to the gaping hole where the broken door used to be. “See you next week, boss.”

Walking back to your side, Max scratched his short beard and said, “I think we should go to a hotel tonight, liefje.”

A gust of wind blew through the open door and swayed the picture frames on the wall to accentuate his words. “I think you’re right, preferably one with a spa.”

He smiled as he kissed your temple, careful to avoid the swelling on your forehead. “I’m sure I can find something for you.”

Two Months Later “Shit,” Max grunted as the wind was knocked from him.

“Please don’t hurt my star driver before his final race,” Christian said as he walked into the gym and found Max bent over his knees panting.

“I haven’t touched him,” you defended yourself while you rubbed Max’s back. “The speedball took him out.”

“If anyone asks, it was Rico Verhoeven.”

You snorted a laugh. “He loves you too much to hurt you. He would probably let you take him down.”

“Probably,” Max groaned as he straightened up and cocked a brow at his boss who held a file in his hand. “What’s that?”

“Just some paperwork for you to sign,” he said to you as he held it out. “Our lovely Director here will be heading to Italy next week for her first board meeting.”

You hadn’t really missed your old line of work but you couldn’t deny there was a certain thrill to stepping into the lion’s den. Max wasn’t too happy about it, but you had convinced him not to worry, or at least accept it. Christian had been able to shift some money around to make the investment feasible and it had been collectively decided that you would be the best person to take the seat.

Now that the seat was filled you would be able to give the go ahead to your contacts and Scuderia Ferrari stocks would rise once again over the winter break, lining Red Bull’s pockets with profits. It was a win-win.

“What I wouldn’t give to see the faces of those smarmy old bastards when you walk in the boardroom,” Christian mused as you signed the last of the documents. “Benedetto doesn’t know what he started.”

Max had recovered from his winded state and pulled his boxing gloves off to have a drink, taking a seat next to Christian on a weight bench. “You are lucky I am so charming. I should get a bonus for saving the team with my good looks and wonderful personality.”

“Greedy bastard, isn’t the €55 million I am paying you each year enough?” Christian said with a burst of laughter.

“My girlfriend has expensive taste.”

“Hey, I had no problem affording my own lifestyle before I met you,” you pointed out as you stole his drink bottle and pointed to the heavy sandbag. “And I didn’t say you could have a break. Gloves back on, Prince Charming.”

“I’ll leave you love birds to it. Don’t forget dinner tonight,” Christian said as he made his way back to the door. “Oh, and try not to be beaten by a bag, Max. It’s bad for your reputation.”

Max held his gloved hand up and you knew he was trying to pull the finger inside of it. “Very menacing,” you teased as you grabbed your own set of gloves and joined him in the ring. “Shall we dance, pretty boy?”

“Do I get a reward if I take you down?”

You blew a kiss to your boyfriend and raised your hands. “How about you focus on just trying to land a punch?”

“I’m competitive, liefje, I respond best to incentives.”

“Is that right...well, in that case, how about this?” You closed the distance between you and brushed your lips along his jaw until you reached his ear. “You take me down, and you can take me down.”

His athletic stamina that kept him strong for the races showed no sign of weakening as he followed you around the ring, relentlessly trying to take you to the mat. Sweat beaded on your forehead as you ducked and spun out of his reach, and you saw his cheeks flush with the same exertion of his effort.

Deciding he had pushed himself hard enough for one day, you planted your foot and deflected the throw he made. He overextended past you, leaving his side open for you to wrap yourself around, dragging him to the thin padding on the ground and rolling until you straddled his hips.

“Good work, but it’s time to rest. You have qualifying soon.”

“I’ve already won the championship, plus I could start last on the grid and still get points,” he said with a cocky smile before he stole your signature move. He used your own momentum against you, twisting his hips as he reached across your body. The room spun as you were flipped onto your back and suddenly you were looking up at him. “I just can’t help winning, see.”

“Go on then,” you dared as he hungrily eyed your body pinned beneath his. “Take your reward.”

“We could get caught,” Max groaned as he glanced at the door Christian had left through, knowing it was unlocked.

“You’re not scared are you?”

All his blood rushed south of his brain and he found no reason to deny you both. “Fuck it.”

Dinner was a quiet affair with just the team and their families. The real party would come after the race, but you were quite content as you were when the group broke up at the end of the evening.

Geri had taken the children off to bed while the mechanics went to a nightclub nearby for a ‘nightcap’. Christian wished them a good evening and a polite suggestion to not stay out too late. It left you, Max and Christian moving to your fully stocked bar in the presidential suite and sinking into the plush seats.

“What a fucking year it’s been,” Christian laughed as he rubbed his beard.

You snorted a laugh and kicked your feet up onto Max’s lap. “It’s been exciting though, you have to admit that.”

You smiled as the two recounted their favourite parts of the season while you browsed the NASDAQ Dubai journal you had started reading before dinner.

“It’s a shame George is still sick, he can’t catch a break.”

“You think George being sick is a coincidence?” you commented as you turned the page and chuckled. “Tell me you are not that-“ you fell silent at the look Christian gave you and just shrugged. “It’s quite easy to replicate illnesses with certain substances is all I’m saying…”

“Why go after George?” Max pondered aloud while Christian sat still processing what you had inferred.

Your boss’s eyes lit up with realisation and he grabbed his phone to open the F1 app to confirm his thoughts. “Because if George scores anything above fourth place tomorrow Mercedes will beat Ferrari in the constructors championship. That’s worth a few million euros, at least.”

“Bingo.”

“Do we do anything with this information?” Max asked as he began to massage your ankle. Though he had almost come to accept the dark underbelly of the sport, he still didn’t like it and it made him nervous.

“We can’t prove it,” you said with a shake of your head as his massage glided up your calf muscle, like a cat that kneaded a spot for self-comfort. “It’s not exactly a bad thing too, Ferrari coming second. It will make for great telly seeing Toto throw a bitch fit.”

Christian nearly spilled his drink with the belly laugh that filled the suite. “I’ll cheers to that,” he toasted as he held his drink forward. “To the end of an exciting season.”

You leaned in with yours and tapped it with his and Max’s. “And to another one next year.” They both cut you a side eye and you bit your lip to suppress the smile. “Or not.”

#max verstappen fic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x reader #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula one fanfiction #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one imagine

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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 11 months

Text

All Too Well (Superstar Ch 8)

'Cause there we are again when I loved you so

Back before you lost the one real thing you've ever known

It was rare, I was there, I remember it all too well

The Reader is left reeling after the Man City celebration.

Roy Kent x Reader

7.5k words

Warnings: Language, lots and lots of angst, some yelling

Finally! Thank you for sticking around through all the pain. Hopefully you can see the light at the end of the tunnel!

Read (Roy's Version) here!

“I don’t have go to work,” Keeley said to me as I handed her a travel mug of coffee. “I can cancel. Honestly, they can handle one shoot without me there to hold their hands,” she offered earnestly. “Or I can call Jamie to come spend some time with you, he wouldn’t mind, he adores you. The two of you could watch some telly, go out to lunch-”

I shook my head, my body feeling empty after releasing probably every drop of water through tears. “It’s fine, Keeley. I’ll probably just shower and put on a movie. Distract myself a bit.”

Her face was full of concern. “You sure babe?”

“I’m sure.”

Keeley sighed and began gathering her things. “Alright. But call me if you need me. Or call Jamie. We’ll be here in an instant, alright?” She pulled me into a suffocating hug, not caring about my morning breath or the ruined makeup that I couldn’t be bothered to take off the night before. “We love you, you know that?”

I nodded into her shoulder, a small part of me not wanting to let go. “I know.”

After Keeley left, I did as I said and jumped into the shower, planning on spending an unreasonable amount of time in there. The scalding hot water allowed me to feel something besides the aching in my heart. Despite what I’d thought earlier, there was still water in my body, because I sobbed the entire time I stood under the shower, trying to scrub the pain away along with the glitter from the club.

I only managed to get out the glitter.

I put on some sweatpants and let my wet hair drip onto the old t-shirt I’d thrown on. I wasn’t going anywhere; it didn’t matter what I looked like. I had just settled myself on the couch and was absently searching for a movie when I heard a knock on the door.

And, despite myself, I knew that knock.

Praying that I was wrong and that Keeley had sent Jamie to check on me after all, I hesitantly got up and walked to the door. With a trembling hand, I opened it, hoping to see the striker’s annoyingly pretty face in front of me.

Nope.

“Roy,” I choked out, blinking.

“What the fuck did you do?” he demanded, shoving past me and into my flat.

I closed the door behind him. “The fuck are you talking about?” I didn’t bother hiding the confusion on my face.

He ran his hands over his face, which looked like he’d barely slept the night before either. “Why the fuck did I get a bunch of texts this morning sending me this?” He held up his mobile to me.

Boy-Toy Roy Gets Laid with Aide

I blinked as I read and re-read the headline several times. “What the fuck is that?” I gasped.

“Someone overheard you telling Brittany Brett all about how you’re ‘shagging Roy Kent’,” he spat out, his face a deep red. “All about how I ‘take care of’ you.” He shook his head, hurt behind the anger in his eyes. “I fucking told you I hate the press. I fucking told you I didn’t want this fucking circus. And then you turn around and do this shit.”

“No, Roy, I didn’t-”

He held his hands up. “Fucking save it. I really fucking thought this-” He gestured between us. “-was different. That you were different. But you’re just like everyone else. Using Roy fucking Kent to get in the papers and make a name for yourself.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “How could I be so fucking stupid?” he grumbled, more to himself. “I was really stupid enough to think you’d want me, just Roy.”

I took a step towards him. “Come on, Roy you know I lo-”

“No.” His voice was strangled. “No, I don’t fucking know that. Not anymore” He sighed. “You just fucking stop talking about me, alright? I don’t want to make things worse, so I’m not going to ask Lasso to fire you. But you just leave me the fuck alone, alright?” He blinked several times, clearly pushing back tears. “Do at least that much for me,” he rasped. He turned and grasped the doorknob, yanking the door open and slamming it behind him.

My flat was too quiet, too still, after he left. I managed to get myself onto the couch, my head reeling with everything he’d just said. It had been one thing to have cracks on my heart; now it felt completely pummeled, destroyed to oblivion.

It was past noon when I finally dared to look at my mobile. As I feared, there were messages from my girlfriends, Keeley, and Rebecca, all sending me the article and asking if I knew anything about it. But the only message I cared about was from my mum:

Want me to come over?

It felt like only seconds after I sent my answer that she was at my door, pulling me into a hug the moment I let her in. Her arms tightened around me, her simple shh, shh more than enough to bring back all the tears I’d thought I’d run out of. She walked me to the couch, where I curled up into her arms and let out harsh sobs that I didn’t know I was capable of.

I’d had my heart broken before. Boyfriends dumping me, friendships ending, pets dying, failing tests. And each time, my mum held me and let my tears soak her collar as she stroked my hair, managing to make everything better just by being there. But this was a hurt that I knew a couple kisses from my mother wouldn’t fix. This was the kind of hurt that I knew I’d be carrying my whole life.

Roy was it. Not because I had this lifelong crush on him, not because he was my favorite footballer and it was destiny for us to end up together. But because he was Roy. He was the person I was always happy to see, who never failed to make me smile, who made me feel safe, who I could spend hours doing nothing with, who I wanted to spend forever doing nothing with. And I knew deep down that he had truly felt the same way.

And now it was gone.

I wasn’t sure how long I cried for. The only thing I knew for sure was that when I finally looked up, my mother was looking at me with pain in her eyes, that pain only a parent watching their child suffer can know.

“This isn’t about the article, is it?” she whispered.

I shook my head. “We broke up,” I croaked out, my voice nearly gone. “Last night. And this morning whatever this article is came out, and Roy came and told me off, and now I think…” A sharp pain stabbed me in the chest. “I think we’re totally broken.” My voice cracked. “I’m totally broken.”

Her arms tightened around me. “Oh, love,” she cooed.

She stayed for a few hours. For a while, she just held me while I cried. Eventually, she put on the telly and moved to my bedroom to get a load of laundry to wash. Then to the kitchen, where I could hear her making more than enough food to get me through a couple of days. By the time the sun began to set, she was back on the couch with me, folding clothes as we watched some trash reality show.

“Have you read the article?” Her question was barely above a whisper.

With a sigh, I shook my head, wincing from both the mental pain and the realization that I had a stinging headache, the kind that comes after so much crying. “No, not yet.” I paused. “Is it bad?

My mum let out a small hum of pity, her gaze focused on the trousers she was folding. “It’s… not great.”

I grabbed my phone, went to the text from Keeley (Babes, have you seen this???), and opened the link she sent.

My face burned as I read the article. It was crude, painting me as a gold-digger, only interested in Roy for his fame, his money, even alluding to the idea that I may have gotten my job because of him. Although the article didn’t name me, it was sickening to see myself talked about so callously, to see private details about my relationship shared without much thought. And it suddenly made sense why Roy was so angry with me that morning, why he looked so livid and betrayed. I wouldn’t want anything to do with me either if I’d read this article.

“It makes me out to be an absolute slag,” I choked out, fighting the urge to throw my mobile across the room.

“You’re not,” my mother assured me, taking my phone and putting it on the coffee table. “I know you’re not. You know you’re not.” She gave me a squeeze. “And Roy knows you’re not.”

I shook my head. “He thinks I did this.”

My mum held me for a moment, choosing her words carefully. “He’ll come around,” she murmured. “If he really loves you, if he’s really the fella for you, he’ll come around.”

If only he would.

After three days of dodging phone calls and text messages, I finally answered when Ted called.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked, genuine concern in his voice. “Keeley said you got food poisoning. Golly, I don’t think I’ve ever had food poisoning last three days before. Must be awful.”

“Oh, yeah. It’s pretty rubbish,” I muttered. “But I’ll be back tomorrow, alright?”

I could almost hear Ted’s smile through the phone. “Aw, I’m so glad, hon’. We all miss seeing your face. Roy misses you most of all.” He let out a small laugh. “You should see him, even more grumpy than usual, he might as well be hangin’ out with Snow White.”

My heart leapt into my throat at the mention of Roy. “Uh-huh,” was all I could get out. “I should rest so I’m ready for work tomorrow. Thank you for checking on me, Coach.”

“We’ll see you tomorrow!” he called cheerfully before we hung up.

‘Tomorrow’ came much faster than expected. I dragged myself out of bed, my entire body heavy, and slowly forced myself through the motions: shower, breakfast, teeth, makeup, clothes. I agonized over an outfit to wear; wearing anything Richmond made me feel sick to my stomach. I found a random jumper and put it on, not bothering to look in the mirror; all I’d see was the tiredness in my eyes that no makeup could conceal.

Arriving at the Dog Track was worse than getting ready for it. Immediately my eyes were drawn to one thing: that stupid giant black car. Of course he was already there. Of course.

I parked clear across the lot, not caring about how many steps that added to my walk. As I entered the building, I did my best to ignore how hard my heart was hammering in my chest. My knuckles were white from gripping my bag so tight, and I knew my face was just as pale. Each step I took towards the changing room was heavy with the knowledge that the closer I got, the more real this all became. Roy wouldn’t greet me with a clandestine smirk. He wouldn’t glance over to see if the other gaffers were around so he could give me a kiss. He wouldn’t spend all day sending me texts about our after-work plans.

He wouldn’t be my boyfriend.

The chatter in the changing room quieted as I entered. I nodded to the boys, who offered tiny waves and quiet greetings, welcoming me back. No one quite looked me in the eye. It made sense; even though none of them knew about Roy and me, they had all suspected there was something between us, even if it was just a mutual attraction. And honestly, it was painfully obvious who that article was speculating about; I was one of the only people at Nelson Road that Roy publicly tolerated, and I had been at the club that night. It didn’t take a genius to put the pieces together.

It was Jamie who nodded to me, making full eye contact and offering a wide grin as if it were a normal day at the Dog Track. “Welcome back. Food poisoning all better then?”

He’s an angel. “Much better, thanks.” I smiled at him, focusing on his face. “Got plenty of catch-up to do, so I’ll see you later.”

Jamie shot me a wink, his friendliness giving me just enough strength to turn my attention to the offices. Ted and Beard sat at their desks, feet up and coffees in hand. Ted was speaking animatedly as Beard nodded, neither one noticing me until I was in the doorway.

“Call me John Travolta, because Welcome Back, Kotter!” Ted exclaimed, jumping to his feet. He walked over and threw an arm around my shoulder. “I was starting to think you’d run off on us and gotten a job at another club.”

I managed a small chuckle. “My dad’d kill me if I worked for anyone but Richmond.”

Ted nodded. “Loyal. Gotta love it.”

A cynical snort from the adjoining office sent a jolt down my spine. It also caught Ted’s attention.

“Guess who’s back, Roy!” he called, steering me to the door I had spent all morning dreading. “And looking better than ever, I might add.” Ted shot me a grin. “Well, we better start heading to practice. Roy, you think you could hang back and catch her up? Thanks.” He didn’t wait for an answer before turning on his heel and walking out, Beard following him out through the changing room.

I stayed frozen in the doorway, avoiding turning my head towards Roy. Out of the corner of my eye I could see him still sitting at his desk, fists clenched, jaw set. I was thrown back to our first meeting, the day I started at Richmond, when he looked so annoyed by my existence. Now, however, he was more than annoyed. He hated me.

Doing my best to ignore the pit in my stomach, I went to my own desk and started taking out my things. I figured Roy wasn’t about to tell me a thing, but I figured I could piece together what I’d missed pretty easily. Plus, I could always go snooping around Ted’s desk if I needed to. Right as I was opening up my email, something caught my eye.

“Where’s my sticky note?” A lump formed in my throat. My little orange sticky note, the one that read “To my biggest fan. XOXO Roy Kent”, was gone. I turned around in my seat to face Roy, who still hadn’t moved. “Did you really fucking take it?” My voice was small, overflowing with all the hurt I’d been holding the past few days.

When he didn’t answer, I swiveled back around, letting a couple silent tears splash onto my desk. I couldn’t believe he’d take it, probably crumpled it up and thrown it away. Maybe even ripped it up. It was a stupid little sticky note- a joke more than anything else- but it felt like someone had yanked my heart out of my chest and taken out to the pitch to be kicked around by the guys.

“I didn’t fucking take it.”

I spun around, eyes wide. Roy’s head was turned to the side, only showing me his profile. His fists were still clenched on top of his desk.

“I didn’t take the note,” he repeated. “Keeley came in on Monday to grab some of your work shit. She took it with her.”

“Oh.” That was all I could say before I thought to add, “’m sorry.”

With a grunt, Roy stood, still not looking at me, and trudged out of the office, presumably to the pitch. I sat in my chair for a while, not moving, trying to block out all my thoughts. My attempt at emptying my brain was interrupted by a tiny knock on my door.

Keeley waved at me. “Hey, babes.” She walked over and sat in Roy’s chair, rolling it close to me. “Glad you’re back.”

I nodded. “At least someone is,” I sighed. I stared down at her shoes, all purple and shiny and way too high for me. “Keels, did you take my sticky note?”

She tilted her head. “Your sticky-?” Her eyes lit up. “Oh. Shit, yeah. When I was getting the stuff I brought to you on Monday I grabbed it. I kind of figured you wouldn’t want that thing staring at you the day you came back, you know?” She paused. “I hope that was alright. I didn’t chuck it or anything. I can go get it for you if you want.”

“No, that’s fine,” I hummed. “You did the right thing. It would’ve crushed me to see it up there. Just wish you’d let me know; I asked Roy about it.”

Keeley’s eyes nearly popped out of her head., “You guys talked?”

I snorted. “Barely. I asked if he took the note, he told me that you did.” My voice grew miniscule. “He wouldn’t even look at me.” A few tears spilled into my lap.

“Oh babe.” In an instant, Keely was out of the chair and was instead crouched down in front of me, stroking my arm sweetly. “It’s alright. D’you need to go home? I could drive you. Rebecca wouldn’t mind.” She paused. “She doesn’t know of course, but she assumes the article has something to do with you.” Keeley shook her head. “Shit piece, by the way. I’m trying to ask around and find out where the hell it came from, it’s absolute slander-”

“It’s my fault,” I whispered, wiping my wet cheeks. “At the club, Brittany Brett was all over me, and I got so mad I let it slip that I was dating Roy. I can only assume that either someone was listening in and twisted everything, or that she went and told a reporter just enough for them to run with.” I shook my head. “I’m such an idiot.”

Keeley squeezed my arm. “Hey.” Her voice was gentle. “Maybe you made a mistake. But this isn’t your fault. The damn media has no respect. Believe me.” She thought a moment. “Could you tell Roy about all this? Wouldn’t that help fix things?”

I shook my head. “He doesn’t want to see me. Or talk to me. He probably just wishes I’d drop dead.” I buried my face in my hands. “I kinda wish it too,” I joked dryly.

“Hey now.” Keeley pulled down my hands. “None of that rubbish. Just… give him time.” Keeley nodded. “Give him time.”

Time seemed to be all there was. Without Roy to keep me busy, I found myself alone in my flat most nights. No Roy, no Phoebe, no Oscar. Just me, on the couch eating takeaway and watching garbage reality shows. I went out with my friends a couple of times, but my heart wasn’t in it.

They’d initially asked me about Roy and the article, which I quickly shut down. I explained that Roy and I had a professional relationship, maybe a friendly one at times, and that the article was nothing but rubbish. Whether or not they believed me, they stopped bringing it up.

I did my best to avoid my parents’ house. On the rare occasions I did go over, I noted that while all my awkward teen photos were back, the photo of me with my cardboard cutout was still missing. I didn’t even bother going up to my old room; my dad was kind enough to run upstairs if I needed something from there. He was also thoughtful enough to not ask a single question about what happened; I assumed my mum filled him in on the necessary information.

At work, most people treated me gently. Only Jamie, Ted, and Beard treated me normally; Jamie because he knew all the details, Ted and Beard probably because they knew none of the details. Everyone else had bits and pieces, some true, some completely fabricated. But everyone knew that something was going on.

All that time was what led to me sitting on my couch, eating something I barely registered and watching something I didn’t care about, when a quick knock came from my door.

“Hello? You home?”

Frowning, I walked over to the door and opened it. Jamie Tartt stood there, holding a box in his hands and looking uncharacteristically bashful.

“Um, hey Jamie.” I blinked a few times. “What’re you doing here?” Jamie Tartt at my door in a neon pink hoodie and a fanny pack strapped to his chest was not something I’d planned on seeing, maybe ever.

He cleared his throat and took a step inside, looking nothing like the cocky player I knew. “I, uh, have some stuff for you.” He nodded down towards the box. “From Roy,” he added quietly.

My eyes darted to the box. Inside I could see my things from Roy’s house, things I’d left there over the past few months. A lump formed in my throat as I tried to hold myself together and not break down in front of Jamie freaking Tartt.

“Oh. Right. Thanks.”

“Should I… put it somewhere?”

I closed the door behind him, not willing to have any of my neighbors walk by and witness what felt like yet another humiliating moment. “Uh, yeah, just there by the couch.” Jamie did as I asked easily, then faced me expectantly. I sighed. “Thanks,” I repeated.

He offered me a tight smile. “You alright?”

“Yes. No. I don’t fucking know.” I let out a dry laugh. “Sorry you got roped into doing this.”

Jamie shook his head. “’s alright. He’s my friend. You’re my friend. I don’ mind doin’ stuff for my friends.” He glanced at the box. “Want me to, uh stay while you go through all that? I won’t watch or nothing. Just so you don’t have to be by yourself.”

My heart melted at the offer I didn’t know I needed. Keeley had a good one. “That’d be nice. Thanks, Jamie.”

He flopped onto my couch and took out his phone. “No problem.”

While he started scrolling through obnoxious TikToks, I knelt down and started rummaging through the box. Clothes, the extra toothbrush that I kept by Roy’s sink, my favorite mug for tea, the books I’d left on his nightstand, the Spice Girls CD he reluctantly let me play in his car. Every piece of evidence that I spent almost as much time at his place as I did at mine.

Well, almost every piece.

“Jamie,” I started, frowning. “Was this all there was?”

Jamie nodded absently, scrolling to a new video. “Yeah. That’s all he gave me.” He glanced at me. “Somethin’ missing?”

I nodded, digging through the box once more. “One of my Richmond sweatshirts. My favorite one, actually. Had it since I was in uni. It’s kind of my good luck charm. Like, every time I’ve worn it, I aced an exam, or the Greyhounds won, or my mum made my favorite dinner without me having to ask. And I know I left it there.”

“Want me to ask him about it?” Jamie offered.

“No,” I sighed, putting down the mug I’d been holding. “He, um, probably hasn’t found it yet. It’s fine. I’ll survive.”

Jamie joined me on the floor, sitting cross-legged and laying his hand on my arm. “Fuck yeah you will. You can survive anythin’, you hear me?” He looked thoughtful. “Would it help if I told you that Roy’s even more fuckin’ miserable than usual?”

I shook my head with a small chuckle. “I don’t think it would.” I laid my hand on top of his. “But thanks for trying, Jamie.”

He smiled at me, a soft, friendly smile, different than the one he usually wore on the pitch. “Anytime.”

As I strolled through the supermarket, I caught a flash of familiar blonde. My heart stuttered as I tried to focus on finding something to make for dinner. Maybe if I quickly grabbed what I needed, went straight to the clerk, walked out swiftly, I could avoid-

“Hi!”

Phoebe beamed up at me, still in her school uniform. At the end of the aisle, her mum held a shopping basket, an embarrassed look on her face.

“Hey, Pheebs,” I managed, trying to sound as excited as the child who stared up at me. “How’re you, sweetheart?”

She gave a small nod. “I’m fine, thank you.” A frown twitched on her face. “I’ve missed you. How come you don’t hang out with me and Uncle Roy and Oscar anymore?”

A lump formed in my throat. “Oh. Well, see, your Uncle Roy and I…” Fuck. How do you tell an eight-year-old girl that you and her uncle broke up and your heart is currently sitting in a million little pieces, and each piece was still desperately in love with him?

“Hey there.” With perfect timing, Roy’s sister approached, a tight smile on her face. “Sorry about Phoebe, she just sprinted on over the moment she saw you.”

I shook my head. “No, no it’s alright-” I stopped myself, realizing we were now nothing more than acquaintances. “It’s alright, Dr. O’Sullivan,” I finished.

Sadness flashed across her face for a moment before the forced smile returned. “Well, it’s good to see you.” She probably wanted to get out of the conversation as quickly as I did.

But Phoebe had other plans.

“Are you still coming to my ballet recital?” Her blue eyes, filled with childish hope, bore into mine. “You promised,” she reminded me.

Fuck. I glanced up at Dr. O’Sullivan, whose face was now a complete grimace. “Oh, yeah, of course.” What else could I say? “If, um, if your mum can get a ticket for me.”

Dr. O’Sullivan’s face softened. “Yeah, I can get you one.” She smiled at me- a real smile this time- and nodded. “I could drop it off at Nelson Road, if you’d like, next time I drop Phoebe off with-” She stopped. “Next time I drop her off,” she finished.

I shrugged. “You can just leave it with Higgins. Or Will. Honestly, you could even leave it with Dani Rojas. They’d all make sure it got to me.” I was starting to babble.

She gave me a pity laugh. “I’ll make sure it gets to you,” she assured me. She turned to Phoebe. “Love, why don’t you go pick out an ice cream for us to have after dinner, hmm?” Phoebe scurried down the aisle before her mother finished her sentence. Dr. O’Sullivan turned back to me. “Hey,” she started softly. “You don’t have to come if it’s too uncomfortable. Phoebe’ll understand.”

“I’d like to go,” I confirmed. “If it’s alright with you, I mean. I don’t want to intrude or make things… weird.”

“Things’ll definitely be weird,” Dr. O’Sullivan said with a dry laugh. “But it’d mean the world to Phoebe. We’d love to see you there.” She paused, clearly unsure if she should continue. “Listen. I don’t know what happened between you and my brother. But I will say that Phoebe misses you. I miss you. And if you don’t come to the ballet, I completely get it. But please don’t avoid us because you think we don’t want to see you. Alright?”

I hadn’t realized that tears were forming in my eyes until they threatened to fall. “Alright,” I whispered. “Friday, right?”

“Friday,” she confirmed as Phoebe ran back, holding up a box of ice lollies.

Phoebe looked up at me, clutching her ice cream. “I’ll see you at my recital, right?”

I nodded. “Yes. I’ll bring pink roses,” I promised.

Immediately, Phoebe wrapped her arms around me. Without hesitation, I hugged her back, giving her a tight squeeze. God, I missed her. I missed taking Oscar for walks together. I missed sitting on Roy’s back porch, taking turns reading out loud. I missed taking her out to get groceries so Roy could make dinner for the three of us. I missed going over to her house and laughing with her mom while Phoebe and Roy played together. I missed being part of Roy’s family.

I blinked back the tears before letting go of Phoebe. “I’ll see you two Friday then,” I managed to choke out.

Dr. O’Sullivan and Phoebe each offered me one more smile and wave- Phoebe’s smile taking up her whole face, Dr. O’Sullivan’s smile filled with sadness- and then they were gone. I squeezed my eyes shut, pretending that my heart didn’t just manage to break even more than it already had, and made myself finish my shopping.

“You’re really going?” Keeley looked at me with concern, clutching one of Rebecca’s pillows. “You don’t think that’d be too hard?”

I shrugged, picking at a loose string on my jumper. “It’ll be hard as fuck,” I admitted. “But it’s Phoebe. She doesn’t deserve to have me break my promise just because… because…” I trailed off, unable to finish, staring down at the ticket Higgins had handed me earlier that afternoon that now sat on Rebecca’s coffee table.

Rebecca joined us on the couch, shoving a glass filled with something from her bar into my hand. “But no one would blame you for not going,” she pointed out.

With my permission, Keeley had filled Rebecca in on all that had happened. She was a bit miffed to be kept in the dark for so long, but she quickly got over it in favor of being a supportive friend. She’d gone so far as to offer to move me to a different office or even a different position at the club, but I declined; Roy was right, it was best not to make things look worse. Instead, I allowed her and Keeley to schedule daily check-ins with me to make sure I was feeling alright.

“I’d blame myself,” I argued. “No matter what’s happening with me and Roy, I made a promise to that little girl. And I’m going to be there, no matter what.” Even if Roy is there. Even if he brings Brittany fucking Brett or some other gorgeous woman.

Keeley patted my knee lovingly. “If you’re sure you can handle it,” she murmured. “But if you can’t, you just text me and I’ll meet you at whatever bar you want, and we’ll drink until London runs out of booze.”

Rebecca added her hand on top of Keeley’s. “Me too.”

I stared at their hands, the hands of my friends who made me feel loved, who made me feel strong, like I would survive the pain I was feeling, despite the deep ache that still rested in my chest. I placed my hand on top of theirs. “Thank you,” I whispered.

We sat and chatted for a bit more before I reminded them that I had work to do and headed down to my office, feeling good about my decision to attend the ballet. Avoiding looking at Roy, I settled myself into my desk and looked at some emails I hadn’t gotten to yet that day.

For the millionth time since he arrived at Richmond, Dario poked his head into the office, beaming when he saw me, greeting me in his usual complimentary way. Even with his back to me, I could feel Roy tense up, the heat radiating off of him and smacking me in the face.

I grimaced at Dario, hoping he’d see it as more of a smile. “Need something?”

He shook his head. “No. Well, yes.” He paused, glancing over at Roy, who was still as a statue. “Could we talk privat-”

In a flash, Roy was up and stomping out of the office, the way he often left these days. With a sigh, I turned back to Dario. “Go on then.”

His radiant smile had returned. “Would you like to have dinner with me sometime?”

“Oh.” I prayed that Roy was far, far away from this conversation. I prayed that he never found out about it. While I was at it, I prayed that I’d misheard the question. “Dinner?”

“Yes.” Dario nodded, clearly excited. “With me.”

I blinked a few times. “I, um, don’t think your girlfriend would like that very much, hmm?” I asked, trying to keep my voice light and friendly, as if this chat wasn’t causing me absolute turmoil. “She’d probably murder me.”

Dario shook his head earnestly. “Oh, you have not heard then? Brittany broke up with me.”

This conversation cannot get worse. “Really?” Despite my best efforts, my voice shook at this development.

“Si. She said that, while we had fun, she wanted something more serious, and she did not want it with me.” He shrugged, clearly taking his breakup better than I was taking mine. “I will be okay though. Especially-” He grin once again filled his handsome face. “-if you go to dinner with me.”

I shook my head. “Thank you, Dario, but I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Because of Coach Kent?” He raised his eyebrows at me. “Because I know everyone says you have a crush on him, but honestly, belleza, I think you and I would have more fun together.” He paused, thinking. “Besides, he is going to get back with Brittany any day now.”

“I’m sorry?” If my heart sank any lower, it would be in the ocean by now.

He nodded. “This is what Brittany told me. She and Coach Kent are going to get back together.

This man needs to get out of my office before I start crying. “Thank you for asking, Dario,” I started, trying to keep my voice even. “But I’m going to have to say no to dinner.” Without another word, I got up and walked briskly past him, through the changing room, and out to the parking lot, where I sat in my car and cried.

I composed myself and went back to work before leaving to go get ready for the ballet recital. The theatre was walking distance from me, so I allowed myself a nice stroll, figuring that being outside would be good for me. On my way, I popped by a flower stand to pick up pink roses for Phoebe, taking great care to pick the prettiest, brightest ones I could find. Even if I felt like my world had ended, at least I’d get to see the smile on that little girl’s face when she saw the flowers I’d promised her.

When I arrived, the theatre was already packed with families, all excited to see their tiny children jump and dance about. I snuck a glance at my ticket and asked an usher to point me in the direction of my assigned seat, right on the aisle. I heaved a sigh of relief as I sank into it, unable to believe my luck. I hadn’t run into anyone I knew, so I’d have the whole show to prepare myself for the inevitability of coming face to face with-

“Oi.”

My head snapped up. Roy stood over me, programme clutched in his hands. His frown seemed permanently etched into his face these days, and his eyes were unreadable as they stared down at me.

“You came,” he grunted.

All I could manage was, “I came.” I swallowed hard, praying my tight grip didn’t squash my flowers.

Roy squinted at the letter on the arm of my seat. “I think that’s me,” he mumbled, pointing at the empty seat next to me.

“Oh,” was all I said. I stood, intending to step out into the aisle so he could go in, but before I could shift, he made his way past me, having to press his body against mine in the tiny pathway between rows. My heart fluttered at the first bit of physical contact we’d had in weeks; his body felt so familiar, so comfortable. More than anything, I wanted to freeze that moment, feeling his warm chest pressed against mine, feeling like home.

It was far too soon when he settled in his seat and I dropped back into mine. I fidgeted with the flowers in my hand, heart hammering so loud I was sure Roy could hear it.

“You brought them.”

I turned to him. “Hmm?”

He gestured towards the roses on my lap. “The fucking roses. For Phoebe. You actually brought them.” He raised his thick eyebrows at me.

“’course I did,” I answered. “I promised, didn’t I?”

He stared at me for a moment, looking as if he was really seeing me for the first time. “You did.” He turned his attention to the empty stage. “Phoebe’ll be excited,” he mumbled.

I couldn’t think of anything else to add until I noticed Roy fiddling with the programme in his hands. “Shit, I didn’t see the programmes,” I muttered, starting to stand so I could find where they were being passed out before the show started.

Roy let out one of his signature sighs and held his up. “Have mine.”

“You sure?” I asked as I sat back down. When he nodded, I took the programme out of his hand. “Thanks.”

With a curt nod, he took out his phone and checked the screen. “Fucking hell, is this thing ever gonna start?”

Unable to resist slipping back into old patterns, I snorted as he returned his mobile to his jacket pocket. “Why? D’you and Jamie Tartt have a hot date or somethin’?”

“No,” he huffed. He paused, tapping his finger on his knee, eyebrow raised. “D’you and fucking Dario Vargas have one?”

My heart stuttered as I frantically shook my head. “What? No. Why the hell-”

“Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats, the show is about to begin!” an annoyingly bright voice called over the sound system.

It took every ounce of strength I had to sit in my seat and turn my focus to the dancers onstage. All I could think about was Roy, sitting beside me. Roy, watching his niece dance. Roy, who didn’t start yelling the moment he saw me. Roy, who gave me his programme.

After the show ended and the dancers had taken their tiny bows, Roy nodded to me. “My sister’s supposed to meet me out front with Phoebe. You can come with me.” He paused. “If you want.”

I nodded. “Thanks. I, um, I’d like to give Phoebe her flowers.”

“Alright.” He stood and gestured towards the exit. “Let’s go then.”

I stood up and exited the row. For just a millisecond, I felt Roy’s fingers brush mine before quickly pulling away. When I glanced back, he was wearing his stoniest expression, looking ahead of me into the crowd, but the pink tint to his cheeks was undeniable. My heart slammed against my chest; he forgot. For a brief moment, Roy Kent forgot he hated me. He forgot that we weren’t together. For a brief moment, he had reverted to the Roy who would naturally grab my hand as we walked through a crowd. The realization brought a new ache to my chest, a dull one now, anchored in… well, hope.

We briskly walked outside the theatre, weaving our way through the crowd of families all trying to find their own little dancers. I glanced at Roy, wondering if I should revisit his question about Dario and me. After all, Roy was the one who brought it up in the first place.

“Roy, I-”

“Uncle Roy!” Still clad in her leotard and tutu, Phoebe burst through the cluster of people around us, launching herself into Roy’s arms, her mother trailing behind her.

He squeezed her back before letting go. “You did a great job,” he praised, nodding emphatically. “Some of those other kids absolutely fucked up, but not you.” He poked her on the nose. “Fucking amazing.”

“Thank you!” She turned her attention to me, her eyes bright. “You came!” She wrapped her arms around me.

I couldn’t help but laugh and hug her back. “And you were wonderful!” I let her go and held up the flowers. “I believe someone was expecting these.”

Her smile widened. “My pink roses!” She took them from my grasp, burying her nose in them. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Dr. O’Sullivan beamed at me. “Thank you so much for coming.” Without warning, she reached out and gave me a hug, the way she had done each time I left her house after dinner or when she came over to Roy’s to pick Phoebe up. A warm, friendly hug that told me she was happy to see me.

When we let go, I saw Roy eyeing me, his expression neither full of the adoration it used to hold nor the anger he’d displayed the past few weeks. It was just… thoughtful. Gears were turning behind his eyes, and I’d have let the Greyhounds be relegated again for a glimpse of what he was thinking.

I cleared my throat and turned back to Phoebe and her mum. “Thank you again for inviting me. I should get going.” With a small wave, I turned around.

“Where’re you parked?”

The sound of Roy’s gruff voice froze me in my tracks. “I, um, walked.” I blinked at him; I didn’t need to tell him that my flat was close by. He knew.

He nodded, that thoughtful expression still on his face. “I can drive you home. If you want.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dr. O’Sullivan raise her eyebrows. I ignored her and cleared my throat. “Sure. That’d be nice.”

Roy gave his niece and sister each another hug, then nodded down the street. “’m this way,” he mumbled.

The walk to his car was silent, but it was a different silence than the one that had clouded our office these few weeks. It felt much closer to the silence we used to share on his couch or in bed; comfortable. Once we got to his car, we both reached for the passenger door at the same time, just avoiding contact.

Roy cleared his throat and looked down. “Old habits,” he grumbled, yanking the door open for me. He quickly crossed to his side and started the car as I got myself settled. As he pulled out onto the street, he cleared his throat again. “You didn’t get to finish earlier.”

“Finish what?” I asked, although I knew exactly what he was referring to.

A giant sigh escaped his throat. “About Dario Vargas,” he answered through gritted teeth. “I know he asked you out. All that ‘talk privately’ shit.” He paused. “Not that it’s my fucking business.”

I crossed my arms. “You’re right. It’s not your business,” I retorted. I lowered my voice. “But I do want you to know, I turned him down. I’m not over-” I stopped myself from saying I’m not over you. “I’m not interested in him,” I finished.

Roy nodded. “Well, I’m glad.” He paused. “I mean, I’m glad you’re not going out with someone you’re not interested in.” He quieted, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel as he thought. “Oscar misses you.”

My heart somehow managed to crack again. “I miss him too,” I whispered.

“Yeah, he’s always fucking looking at the door, like he’s fucking waiting for you. Sniffs around where you liked to sit on the couch.” He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. “If you, I don’t fucking know, wanted to pick him up and take him for a walk sometime, that’d be fine.”

I didn’t hesitate. “I’d love that.”

Roy’s mouth twitched, something I hadn’t seen in weeks. “Thought you would. Oscar’d love it too.”

“Could I pick him up tomorrow? After the match?”

Roy nodded. “Yeah. That’s fine. Just text me, yeah?”

I couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah.”

We were quiet for the rest of the drive, but it didn’t feel as painful. For the first time since the club, I didn’t feel like I was sinking around Roy. In fact, I felt the very real possibility that we could eventually be… well, maybe not friends, but friendly. It was the most I could hope for.

He parked in front of my building, his eyes flickering up towards my flat. “Alright then?”

I nodded, ignoring the sting that came from the realization that he wasn’t walking me up, for the first time ever. “Alright.” I got out of the car, unable to help but note that the stupid black car lingered until I was inside the building.

In my apartment, I moved around like I was walking on a cloud. Something in the car had felt so different, and it felt good. As I prepped something for dinner, I felt my mobile vibrate in my pocket. When I looked at the screen, I saw I had a simple text message from Roy Kent⚽:

Hey. Think we could talk?

Taglist: @optimisticsandwichgladiator @giggling-sewer-ginger @katdahlali @sonyume @djarindroid @reading-blogs @thezimi @benedictscanvasmain @wibblywobblyvampywolfystuff @puckyou-forpuckssake @old-enough-to-know-better73 @ladygrey03 @soundofboots @justsomefunshit @geekgirl1996 @tedssweaters @queen-of-dumbasses @miaalltheway @di-essere-amato @shakespeareanwannabe @hotdoglamp @mal-adaptive-dreams @allthetroubleiveseen @netflix-addict @callmecasey81 @forgetmeaway @royalestrellas @kingleahhh @lemoonandlestars @ghxxxf

#roy kent superstar #he's here he's there he's every fucking where #roy kent #roy kent fanfic #roy kent fic #roy kent x reader #roy kent fanfiction #ted lasso #ted lasso fic

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weeabooofficial · 10 months

Text

Crave [18+]

Warnings: Blood, dark content, toxic relationship, smut, spit, dumbification, Geto really is his own warning here

Pairing: Geto Suguru x Reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 2K

A/N: Y’all I’ve been holding onto this since like December, waiting for S2 of JJK to start, and here we are. I am not lying when I say I was possessed by something when I wrote this. Big thanks to @offendedfishnoises and in the words of @akazaapologist “Brett really said Suguru fucks nasty”

Leaning over the sink, you washed the blood off your hands watching as the red liquid swirled down the drain. Things didn’t go as you expected, but then again did they ever?

The dim lighting of the cheap, run down motel room didn’t do much in the way of visibility but you were used to it. Holing up here together for a few days, you slowly got used to it. The space was cramped but you were comfortable.

What you weren’t used to, was the man standing only a few feet away from you with his gaze zeroed in on your back. Trying your hardest, you pushed the thoughts of him to the back of your mind; there were more important things to do, like finding a way to get away with murder.

Looking down, you saw the blood on your shirt and let out a sigh. That was another cute shirt ruined. Once your hands were clean, you reached to lift the bottom of your shirt before you felt a pair of hands take your waist.

Jumping in surprise, you turned to see Geto invading your space. His hair was down already, framing his face perfectly and his shirt halfway unbuttoned.

“G–Geto, I need to–”

“No need for the formalities sweetheart,” he grinned.

“Suguru–” his name barely left your lips before he pulled you closer. Watching his name fall from your lips as they sounded each syllable had him ready to make you scream it for hours on end.

You watched as his massive frame caged you in against the wall, dark eyes tracing every movement you made. Before you could even think, you felt a pair of lips on your neck, pulling soft sounds from you. "You have any fucking idea how much I crave you?" His voice rumbled against your throat, making your knees weak.

Supporting your weight with his thigh between your legs, you couldn’t resist the urge to grind your hips against it as he made quick work of ridding you of your shirt. Tossing it behind him, Suguru grinned against the skin of your throat before pulling you along to the musty old bed, the mattress creaking as he almost threw you on it in desperation.

Barely able to catch your breath, Suguru was on top pinning you down to the mattress as he claimed your lips with his, a low groan rumbling in his chest that had you shivering in place.

Holding your hands beside your head, Suguru slotted himself between your legs with his hips rutting against yours at a slow rhythmic pace that had you moving in his hold trying to get more.

Breaking the kiss, Suguru looked down at you and your flustered expression. Lips swollen and kiss-bitten, eyes glossy and the cutest pout he’s seen. With a wink, Suguru took off your pants before moving lower.

“This pussy so good,” he hummed as he teasingly slid your panties down your thighs. “Can’t wait to eat every last bit of cum I can,”

Suguru’s filthy words made you squeak in response. No matter how many times he said something like this, you weren’t used to it feeling your face heat up each time.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Suguru throwing your thighs over his shoulders as he got right down to business and licked several long stripes through your folds effectively taking your breath away.

Hands flying to his hair, you couldn’t help but pull him closer. Arching into his touch, you couldn’t fight the pleas begging him to keep going.

“S–Sugu–!” You felt him moan, the sound rumbling against your aching core as he peaked up at you with a dangerous look in his eyes. If you didn’t know better, you’d say Suguru did this for your pleasure.

But you did know better; Suguru ate pussy for his pleasure, not yours. There was nothing more he wanted than to have his face buried between your thighs at all times; in bed, in the car, hell even at the table.

Suguru loved the taste of you on his tongue, especially after he’d spent hours fucking you sensless so your cum was streaked with his. The way your thighs would tense around his head, keeping him in place as you pulled his hair drove him further.

There was nothing he loved more than having you unravel beneath him, reduced to nothing but a whimpering cum-covered mess. And that was exactly what he was going to do.

Your moans turned into cries, as he brought you closer to your climax almost begging him to let you cum. The way his hands gripped your thighs were sure to leave prints, as he devoured your sweet cunt.

Barely able to make out the mumbled words over your moans, you heard him say “Mine, all mine.” over and over as his tongue worked you into a state of pure bliss, cumming all over his face.

The lewd sounds of him slurping up your juices, with the occasional creak of the bed filled the room before he sat up and brushed his hair back with one hand while the other spread your lips to give him a view of his good work.

“Look at my baby, all worked up with that look on her face.” he hummed, “You’d think I just spent hours fucking you repeatedly.”

You watched as he removed his fingers from your pussy, and started to unbutton his shirt the rest of the way with your desire leaving stains on the fabric. Suguru knew how to rile you up, and with the way he was looking at you while he undressed had you squirming.

“Sugu–” you whined, eyes darting down to the v-shaped muscle of his hips where his pants were unbuttoned and his bulge pressing though.

“Need you, need you in me–”

There was a deep rumbling sound you knew to be his laughter, clearly amused at the sight of you eyeing him over begging to be filled with his cock.

Shoving his pants down to his knees, you could see the outline of his cock through his boxers with a wet patch forming. The sight made your mouth water, you needed his cock and you didn’t care where he shoved it. All you knew was that you needed it in you, and you needed it now.

Using his thighs to keep yours apart, Suguru leaned over you with his hair falling over his face. Having him this close, you could see streaks of your cum coating his mouth and chin, along with a streak of blood over his forehead. You knew he was a messy eater, but this was a different level of messy.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” he hummed, pressing his hips against yours making you gasp softly at the contact.

Opening your mouth to speak, you didn’t get a word out before Suguru pressed his thumb to your tongue with a malicious grin on his face. “Of course you do, why else would you beg for me to fuck you?”

Moving closer, he pressed his lips to the crook of your neck keeping your mouth open continuing to move his hips against yours. Suguru thrived off the pitiful moans you made, wriggling under his body as he pressed you deeper into the mattress.

“Look at the way you’re drooling all over my thumb,” slapping your ass with his free hand before moving it up your body to your throat. Pressing your tongue harder, Suguru watched your eyes go wide as he tightened his grip around your throat cutting off your airflow just enough to make your mind go fuzzy.

“So pretty like this, and all mine.” Removing his thumb from your mouth, Suguru pressed his lips to yours.

His kiss was intoxicating, pulling every ounce of breath from your lungs as his hips continued to roll against yours, teasing you with the length of his clothed cock. Suguru was dangerous, you knew he was the second you met him. But it wasn’t the murder or the crimes he committed that made him dangerous; it was the way he had you drunk on nothing but his kiss making you pliable in any way he wanted.

The way he kissed you was messy. Messy, nasty and so fucking addicting with how his teeth clashed against yours, spitting in your mouth as he sucked on your tongue claiming you as his in every way he knew how.

Suguru Geto was toxic, dangerous and it only made you want him more.

With your fingers tangled in his hair, Suguru only grinned as he slowly removed his boxers, sighing in relief as his cock sprang free bouncing off your hips.

“Feel what you do to me, huh sweetheart?” he groaned. “Feel how hard you make me with your sweet cunt and pretty little mouth?”

Whines were the only thing to leave your lips, feeling the swollen tip of his cock stroke through your folds as he teased you mercilessly with the very thought of having inside you, splitting you in half with the sheer size of it.

“Sugu–Sugu, please–” you nibbled on his lips, tugging on his hair with your thighs pushed up to give him better access. “–hurts how much I need you–”

A high pitched squeal was pulled from you as Suguru pulled his hips back just enough to rub the head of his cock against your opening, coating it in your sweet nectar. The smell of sex was in the air, as you gasped for breath feeling him bully his fat cock in you slowly thrusting until he was buried to the hilt.

His moans mixed with yours, his breath fanning over your face as he continued his pace keeping his grip on your throat accompanied with the sound of the bed creaking and thudding into the wall with each thrust of his hips.

“I wanna hear–fuck–wanna hear you say it.” he grunted. “Say you’re mine,”

“Yours–all yours–”

Granting you with another kiss, Suguru grinned as he picked up the pace moaning against your lips feeling your nails dig into his back. “That’s my girl, let me hear how good my cock feels stretching that tight little pussy of yours.”

Your moans picked up, matching the pace of his hips as you clawed down his back crying his name; begging him to keep going. Nothing in your life had ever felt this good, not even when you were drunk trying to forget the horrors you’ve committed. Suguru knew how to make you forget, almost like he was trying to forget himself.

Hearing his breaths speed up, you knew he was close and from the way you were clinging to him Suguru knew you were too.

“Come on baby, cum on my cock and let me fill you; stuff you full with mine.” He panted, “Let me mark you as mine, all fucking mine.”

Nodding your head, you arched into his chest drawing blood from his back as he brought you closer to your climax.

“You’re mine,” he growled. “If anyone even thinks about touching you, I’ll rip them apart.”

Listening to his words made you desperate, you’d be lying if you said Suguru’s possessiveness wasn’t hot, or the way he had to be the only one allowed to touch you made you feel things you never have before.

“Sugu–fuck!” you felt your body shake from the force of your orgasm, panting heavily as he thrusted his hips a few more times before filling you with his hot seed, moaning against the skin of your throat.

“So fucking good for me baby,” he hummed. “Pussy so fucking good, lips so good–fuck it’s like you were made to take my cock.”

Your hands were in his hair now, threading it through your fingers as the two of you laid there letting the atmosphere settle around you. Suguru wasn’t a man to say what he was feeling, but the way he pressed soft kisses to the base of your throat as he held you close told you all you needed to know.

He cared, in his own fucked up way, Suguru cared and that’s what mattered.

“How about we shower?” you hummed, looking down at him.

Glancing up at you with those beautifully haunting eyes of his, you could see the smile behind them. “Sounds like a plan sweetheart,”

Taglist: @offendedfishnoises @akazaapologist @pinksthetics @hex-the-rabbit @nanaoise08squad @loafingdragon @awalkingshame @strawberrystepmom (girl you get a tag because I know you’d love it) @meowzfordayz @shinox

#Costly Affairs #Geto Suguru #Geto Suguru smut #Geto Suguru x reader #Geto Suguru x you #Geto Suguru x y/n #Geto Suguru reader instert #Geto Suguru fic #Geto Suguru fanifc #Geto Suguru fanfiction #Jujutsu Kaisen fic #Jujutsu Kaisen smut

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prettybrownelf · 4 months

Note

Hi I hope your still taking requests for Brett hand? Could you do a male reader? Where reader is really awkward and new to the team. And Brett starts having a straight guy crisis when he starts falling for reader?

Lunch Date

Non MLM/NBLM DNI

a/n- so sorry this took so long life has been hectic

Pairings - Brett Hand x Male! Reader

Summary- Brett falls for the new guy at work, despite never liking a guy before

Word Count- 1006

Content Warnings- Anxiety, Fluff, Brett Is A Mess

Brett can hear his heart beating in his ears. He rubs the sweat forming on his palms onto his black slacks. The pattern ding! from the clock sends a shock through his body as he tries to keep his eyes on Reagan.

But there was you.

Standing next to Reagan.

He watched as you swayed a bit in your chair, messing with a string on the end of your coat to calm your own nerves. Brett couldn't tear his eyes away from you. It made his head hurt. Not because you're attractive, that's obvious to him, but because you're a guy.

Never once had Brett questioned his sexuality. But here he was, trembling in his chair with a beat red face over a cute guy.

“Brett?” Reagan says. Bretts nearly jumps out of his seat as he looks at her. She lazily points to you, next to her. “Show’em around, please.” Brett nods as he quickly stands up and leads you out of the room. There isn't enough air in the building for Brett right now as he tries to act as normal as possible.

“What's your name?” Brett asks. He tries to ignore how his voice cracks. You, however, don't seem to be as nervous anymore as you look around. “(Y/n).” Brett takes a deep breath in as he turns a corner. “Here's the lab. Reagan is normally here. She also doesn't like when people touch things.” Bretts eyes stay on you as he watches you nod along with him.

Crushing anxiety fills Bretts chest as the two of you walk around the building. “So, what are you into outside of work?” Brett asks. His hands tremble by the side of him as he tries not to stare too hard. You give a small shrug as you talk. “I either sleep or play video games. Mostly sleep and work.”

Brett curses to himself as he tries to keep his voice from trembling. “What kind of games?” Brett almost gags at his stupid ‘cool guy’ voice. His cheeks flare as he hears a small chuckle come from you. “Honestly? Anything that slightly peaks my interest.” Brett gives a shaky smile. A sinking feeling makes its way into Bretts chest.

He quickly looks away once he realizes he's been staring. The rest of the tour is spent with Brett desperately trying to make sure you don't know how nervous he is. He doubts it works.

By the end of the day Brett feels like he's been hit by a bus. His head is spinning and he's getting a migraine.

“You good?” Reagan asks. She has a slightly worried look on her face as she catches Brett before he leaves. Brett gives the best smile he could. “Yeah! Just tired.” Reagan gives a slow nod as she looks Brett up and down. “Uh-huh.” She mumbles.

Brett stands in silence as Reagan sighs. “Ok. What's wrong?” Before Brett can say anything, Reagan interrupts. “I don't care. Just tell me so I can go home and we can deal with it tomorrow.” Brett thinks for a moment as he stares at her. He shifts his weight from foot to foot before he mutters out his words. “I think the new guys cute.”

Reagan’s shoulders drop as she gives a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank god! I thought you fucked something up!” Brett feels the air trapped in his chest escape in his own sigh as he opens his car door. “No, I didn't break anything. You always think I broke something.” Reagan sips her coffee as she pats Brett’s shoulder on the way to her own car. “Don't be so weird about it! Everyone has workplace crushes.”

Brett sits in his car for a moment as he thinks to himself. Workplace crushes are normal, he has no reason to be worried! But what if you're not into that? What if he's just confused? Wouldn't he have liked a guy before if he was into guys?

The spinning thoughts become too much for him as he finally pulls into his driveway. Brett can feel his body wanting to crash in of itself as he throws himself on his couch and groans into his cushions.

As the world spins around him, the familiar buzzing of his phone forces him out of his whirling thoughts.

‘hey, it's (y/n)’’

Brett looks at the message for a few seconds before typing with shaky fingers.

‘Hey!’

He feels himself cringe in on himself as he rethinks everything he's ever done in his life up until this moment. The thoughts can't last for long though as another buzz comes quickly.

‘wanna get lunch tomorrow?’

Brett types faster than he ever has in his life

‘Absolutely!’

As Brett texts (Y/n) about getting lunch, he can't help the twisting feeling in his stomach that gets worse with every message. Brett takes a long deep breath once he and (y/n) end the conversation. It's fine, it's just lunch with a co-worker! Don't think so deeply about it!

Despite his best efforts, his anxiety doesn't subside that night, or the following day as he walks to a local restaurant to meet (Y/n).

Brett adjusts his collar as he walks into the building and is immediately greeted by a smiling face.

“Hey!” You smile as the two of you get a table. Brett feels his hands getting sweaty as the two of you order.

“So, why did you want to get lunch?” Brett asks, taking a nervous sip of his water. (Y/n) chuckles softly as a bit of heat travels to his cheeks. “Honestly, I thought you were cute. I wanted to get to know you.”

Brett almost chokes on his water as he quickly looks at you. His voice shakes slightly as he tries his best to play cool. “You think I'm cute?”

(Y/n) laughs with a nod. “Yes, I think you're very cute.” Brett smiles as their food arrives at the table. Brett picks up a fork as he looks back to (Y/n).

“Well, let's get to know each other then.”

#male reader #x male reader #brett hand x male reader #inside job x male reader

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alotofpockets · 5 months

Text

Lost & found | Sylvie Brett

Pairing: Sylvie Brett x Reader Reader pronouns used: she/her

Prompt: “They found out we’re dating because my lockscreen is a picture of you.”

Masterlist | Chicago Fire masterlist | Words: 814

Truck 81 was the first to arrive back at the firehouse, after a call that involved all 51 companies. Otis stayed behind in the truck for a moment to check some things out, while the rest of the team made their way to the canteen. When he got out himself, he noticed a phone laying on the apparatus floor. He picked it up and turned it on, surely he could figure out who’s phone it was from the lockscreen right? He felt proud of himself for thinking of that when he recognized you on the lockscreen. He pocketed the phone, since you weren’t back from the call yet, and followed the rest of truck 81 to the canteen.

Otis thought he heard Engine 51 come back in, so he walked back to the apparatus floor, only to find it was Squad 3 that had arrived back. “Hey, Otis, what’s up?” Cruz greeted his best friend. “Oh, nothing, I found Y/n’s phone on the apparatus floor and thought I heard Engine 51 come in.” They head back to the canteen together, Otis plopping down once again. The team was deep in conversation, so they didn’t hear when Engine 51 actually did arrive, until the doors opened and your team started piling in. Otis was about to stand up to head your way but Cruz stops him, “Look, she’s using her phone.” Otis frowns when he sees that you are indeed using your phone. “What made you think it was hers?” He grabs the phone out of his pocket and shows Cruz the background. “I figured that it was hers, because she is the lockscreen.” Cruz starts smirking, “Dude, that means someone else on the team either has a crush on y/n or is dating her. We have to figure out who this phone belongs to.”

The two went on full investigation mode, with a notepad in hand they crossed out everyone’s name that they saw using their phone. Of course, not everyone was on their phones, but they were already able to cross a few names off of the list. They tried to get some other people to show them their phones, by asking to see a certain picture or asking to use their phone to call. Nearly everyone was now crossed off the list. Which made them spy around in the office as well, thinking that maybe it was someone that worked there. The office employees could also all be crossed out.

It wasn’t until Ambulance 61 pulled in that they found out who the phone belonged to. Dawson left the ambo to go straight to the canteen, like all the others had done, but Sylvie stayed behind, looking all over the Ambulance like she was looking for something. The boys exchanged a look before they made their way over to Sylvie, “Looking for something?” Otis said, waving the phone in the air. “Ah great! I thought I had lost it. Where did you find it?” Otis explains where he found the phone. “It must’ve fallen out of my pocket on my way to the ambulance then.” You reach out to take the phone from Otis but Cruz is quick to grab it from his hand instead, “Not so fast, Brett.” She furrows her brow, “What do you mean? It's my phone?” Cruz smirks as he turns on the phone, facing the screen towards Sylvie, “I think you have some explaining to do.” Sylvie’s cheeks turn red.

Back in the canteen you watch as Otis and Cruz walk in full of excitement, talking amongst themselves, with a defeated Sylvie on their tail. Sylvie grabs a cup of coffee before she makes her way over to the sleeping quarters, without speaking a word to anyone in the canteen. You stand up and follow her, finding her sitting on her bed staring at her phone. “Hey, is everything alright? Did something happen with Cruz and Otis?” You sit down next to her, placing your hand on her thigh, your eyes filled with worry. “I lost my phone, and they found it.” You nod, hoping she would continue, because that didn’t sound too bad. “They found out we’re dating because my lockscreen is a picture of you.”

“Aw, Sylvie, I didn’t know you did that. That is so cute. Can I see which one?” Sylvie hands you her phone. “You’re not upset that they found out?” You shrug, “They were going to find out eventually, right? Plus, like I said I’ve never minded people knowing, it was just nice having us for just us for a while before the team knew.” Sylvie leans into your side and lays her head down on your shoulder. “Yeah, you’re right.” You kiss the top of her head, “Yeah, don’t worry about it, we’re good.” Before Sylvie can respond the alarm rings, and you’re both off to another call.

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#sylvie brett #sylvie brett x reader #chicago fire #one chicago imagine #one chicago x reader #chicago fire x reader #chicago fire imagine #chicago fire fanfic #one chicago #brian zvonecek #brian otis zvonecek #otis chicago fire #joe cruz

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theloveoftoms · 1 year

Text

one hell of a pilot - maverick x reader

summary: after a recent breakup, your long-time friend goose suggests you join him and the others at a bar off base. maverick and you forge a meaningful connection <3

a/n: hello babes, guess who's back from her far too long hiatus, this girl! I started writing this a few weeks ago, and I finally finished it. I hope you all enjoy, I know writing it was a blast! I have my poetry final today, so wish me luck lolz. have a great day :)) - xoxo mac

wordcount: 4.3k

warnings: alcohol consumption, shitty ex-boyfriend, language ;0

Today had been a rough day. Training at Top Gun had increased to a new level of difficulty. With each new assignment and flight training demanding a new level of grit and determination to accomplish. And it certainly didn’t help that your heart was still in the process of mending from the pain caused by your most recent boyfriend, well, now I suppose, ex-boyfriend.

The day at Top Gun was finally over, and the thought of coming home to your single-unit pleased you in the moment, but you knew damn well, that the second you got back to your apartment, the dread of it all would sink in.

So, after a shower, and a luke-warm beer that you had forgotten to put in the refrigerator, you found yourself perched on the arm of your living room couch, fiddling with the remote that never seemed to work, but probably just needed batteries. You found some shitty action movie on tv and ate a plate of strawberries as the sound of fast cars and men with Floridan accents became a comforting lull in the background.

Your night, or at least how you had planned it, would consist of, 1) the second half of this shitty movie 2) the leftover chicken quesadilla you had waiting for you in the refrigerator and 3) the cheap thriller novel that you had found at the drugstore last week. What you didn’t anticipate happening, was the doorbell ringing promptly at nine, just after you had finished your dinner.

So, you pulled yourself up from the couch, and on the way to the door, when you passed a glimpse of your reflection in the hallway mirror, you debated grabbing a cardigan or a blanket or something to cover up your sloppy look. You were wearing a navy-branded t-shirt (courtesy of your days at the academy), and pair of biker shorts that appeared to be non-existent as they hid beneath the excess material of the mens tripple-XL shirt. But the closer you got to the door, the further that thought was in your mind, and you decided, that whoever was on the other side of the door would just have to deal with your post-work image.

“y/l/n,” Goose stated confidently, a hand resting on his hip, “you busy tonight?”

Your posture relaxed when you realized who it was; the man you practically grew up with.

You deadpanned and gestured to yourself, “does it look like I’m busy Bradshaw?”

Goose shrugged, not entirely sure how to reply to that retort of yours.

“What do you need Goose?” You asked nonchalantly, both wanting and not-wanting to get back inside to the comforts of your sofa.

“A couple of the guys and I are going to grab drinks at the Duke and I was wondering if you wanted to tag along?”

You gestured to yourself again, “Does it look like I’m fit to go to a bar Nick?”

“It looks like you need a pair of fuckin pants,” he said jokingly, which earned a slap to his bicep.

“I know things haven’t been great for you lately y/n,” Goose said, “with Brett and all.”

Brett. Just hearing his name brought an unwanted surge of pain through your chest. Specifically, the surge of pain that you had been trying to push away for the past couple of weeks. You didn’t cry about him anymore, in the daytime that is. But at night, when you would lie in bed beneath the darkness of the moon, missing the presence of having someone to curl into, the tears would come, and they would temporarily make an impression on your pillowcase. But as you slept it off, the tears would dry, and you would wake up the next morning feeling mostly okayish.

“And I think,” Goose said, bringing you back into reality from the facade of memories that you had been reminiscing upon within your mind just then, “if you came out with us tonight, you’d have more fun than you would here,” he said, gesturing to your townhome, “spilling a tub of ice cream all over yourself while you sit alone with the lights off.”

Way harsh Goose, you thought to yourself. But he did have a point. You hadn’t been out in forever. The last time you actually went and got drinks like a proper twenty-something-year-old was with your parents when you relocated to San Diego for your position in Top Gun. And that was just at some locally owned Mexican restaurant that happened to have a bar inside. Maybe it would be good to get back out there?

You rolled your eyes, “Give me ten minutes and I’ll be ready.”

So, as Goose, your childhood best friend stood in your kitchen, washing the plate you had used to eat your chicken quesadilla, you were busy in your room getting yourself ready for the evening. You dressed yourself in a lacey black tank top that looked only slightly like lingerie, but didn’t if you wore it tucked into a pair of straight-cut jeans and wore it alongside a pair of low beige heels. As you ran a comb through your wavy hair, you couldn’t help but stare at yourself in the mirror.

Sure, it was a pretty typical outfit that other young women of your age wore when they went out for drinks, but it was cute. And it did provide you with the security of looking just like every other woman. Thats exactly what you wanted to appear to be; just like every other woman. Brett had dumped you because you weren’t ready to settle down with him. You weren’t ready to move in, you weren’t ready for marriage, and you sure as hell weren’t ready for children. Brett wanted you to finish up Top Gun and then lie low for a while, putting your career aside. “Be realistic,” Brett had said, “This pilot shit can’t last forever. Maybe look at getting a different job, one thats more feminine?”

Your career was very important to you. You had worked so hard to climb the latter that that is the United States Navy. Your career was the highlight of your life. It was everything you had ever worked towards. And you weren’t going to give that up. And as much as you hated to admit, the reason of your recent break-up, had been affecting your ego ever so slightly.

So tonight, as you admired your curves in the mirror, and put on some mascara, you told yourself that you were just like every other woman.

…

“This better be worth it,” you grumbled, shutting the door to Goose’s Bronco, scanning the beach-side dive bar with your eyes.

Off in the distance, the evening tangerine hue was beginning to creep up and onto the horizon, putting the day to sleep in preparation for the night. And alongside the dimming of the evening, the neon lights of the dive bar became more welcoming.

The Duke, the off-base bar that Goose had insisted you join him and the others at, was the kind of place that had charm, but only if you knew where to look for it. It was the kind of place with neon lights and drinks that were both cheap and good. It was the kind of place that people came to forget about the day they had just had. Thats what you wanted. And the aura of the loud music coming from the bar would sure help with that.

“Trust me, y/n,” Goose reassured you, responding to your question, “it will be.”

You wanted to believe Goose, you really did. And the moment you saw the table of guys that you’ve began to come to know as your group of friends, the night already seemed better.

“Look who made it!” Iceman said as you approached the table, making you feel welcome, “Its good to see you Cobra,” he said, calling you by your call sign.

You smiled and as you took a seat at one of the empty chairs, saying your ‘hellos’ to the other classmates that were here. And at the end of the table was no other than Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell – perhaps, your greatest competitor – sitting laxly with a beer in his hands and his regular leather jacket draped around his chair.

Damn he had nice arms.

“Evening Cobra,” he said to you, leaning back ever so slightly in a way that seemed to be slightly too confident.

“Maverick,” you offered as a form of pleasantry.

Slider, who was busy looking at the drink menu slapped it down on the counter, pointing to one item in particular. “Now this,” he said, his finger drawn to a platter of five tequila shots, “this is what we need to get things going.”

So, as soon as a one of the circulating waitresses happened to be walking by your table, she wrote down, and then brought over the collective order of your table, the night certainly got a whole lot more exciting.

“Alright,” Goose said, handing you your stalky shot glass of 100% pure tequila, complete with a rim of salt and an accompanying lime, “To good times,” he said nodding.

“Good times,” you repeated along with the others, before drawing the glass to your mouth, tasting the dryness of the salt right before proceeding to take the shot.

The warmth of the alcohol tricked down your throat as you swallowed, and you forgot just how strong shots could be. You weren’t sure if swallowing it as quickly as possible made the uncomfortable sensation better or worse, but as soon as the clear liquid was all emptied from your glass, you jammed the lime into your mouth and squinted your eyes shut as a way to combat the sensation. You weren’t the only one. It seemed everyone at your table, was just to realizing how strong Slider’s chosen shots were.

“Shit,” Goose groaned, setting his glass down on the table, “And you enjoy these Slider?”

Slider shrugged, grinning, “Its awful right now, but hey, come ten minutes, you’ll feel real great.”

Opening one of the beers on the table, you rolled your eyes Sliders comment, “It’ll take more than that,” you sarcastically groaned to Goose who was seated beside you.

“What was that y/n?” Iceman asked.

You shook your head, “Ah, it was nothing.”

“Do I hear you wanting to go for a round two?”

Now, a sensible you would have said no. But since it was Friday night, you wouldn’t have to get up early tomorrow for class. And its not like you had any other plans for the day besides catching up on some paperwork and going on your usual walk. So for once in your life, you threw caution to the wind and agreed, “You got it Ice.”

So, naturally, when your platter of shots arrived, you passed them out, handing each one of the guys their respective glasses with a smirk.

“Maverick,” you said charmingly – gee, thanks alcohol – and you tried to avoid the warm feeling in your chest when your slender fingers skimmed against Maverick’s as you handed him the glass.

“Three, two, one,” you counted down, giving yourself, and possibly the rest of your group, the mental preparation prior to that same burning sensation that would wreak havoc in your mouth prior to swallowing and quickly placing the lime in your mouth.

There was a collective groan from your table as the five shot glasses returned to their small cedar serving plank.

You laughed, washing down the remaining remnants of the uncomfortable taste with the beer you had ordered. “I am not doing that again.”

So, for the next while, as the effects of the alcohol began to make itself present in your body, you sat at the table, just chatting and hanging out with your classmates, sharing stories from your lives before the navy. And while the five of you talked, you couldn’t help but stare at the opposite end of the table where Maverick was seated.

Sure, naturally, prior to this evening, you had realized that Maverick was attractive, but being in a relationship with someone didn’t really allow you to fully appreciate his beauty. With his dark hair, carelessly brushed in an effortlessly windswept way atop of his head, and his oceanic eyes, that in some lights appeared green, and in others, appeared to be almost blue.

Physically, he was gorgeous, but your past interactions with him intrigued you to what it would be like to know him. He had an ego, one that was strong and unaffected, but there was something about his drive, about his reach, about the passion he put into everything he did. You couldn’t help but wonder if one knew him intimately, if he would pursue them with the same passion and drive.

The thought cleared from your mind when his eyes met yours, making you look away, and ultimately force yourself to think of something other than the man that is Maverick.

You hadn’t noticed, but with the loss of your collective sobriety that each one of you can your friends had came in with, the music in the dive bar began to form a sound for itself. The radio collection, of rock, and pop, and some hard core groovy songs had elevated in loudness, so much so, that in a section of the bar a cluster of people had begun to dance among the cleared spot in the building.

“Do you guys see that?” Slider asked, his face drawn in a grin.

You turned in your chair, studying the dancers with your eyes, then turning back to face the table, “What?” You asked.

“That blonde over there,” Slider said, “She’s giving me some serious fuck me eyes.”

Hearing those words come out of your classmates mouth nearly made you choke on your beer, you weren’t expecting that.

“Wanna join me Ice?” Slider asked, “She’s got friends.”

You rolled your eyes as the two of them as they both threw themselves out of their seats and leisurely sauntered over to the dance floor.

“Anything to get laid,” Goose muttered jokingly when the two men began to sway to the beat of the music not quite beside, but very much near the two women.

“You could probably meet someone out there Cobra,” Goose said, more directly to you.

You scanned the crowd again, “I’m not too sure if I want to,” you gestured to the men, “they all look like their mothers still pick out their clothes for them.”

Maverick snorted from his spot over across the table, “She’s got a point Nick.”

You turned to face Maverick and flashed him a grin, “see, someone gets me!”

Goose shook his head, trying to hide his smile before saying, “I’m going to go give Carol a call, I promised I’d call her tonight. You two try and stay out of trouble,” he said, lecturing the two of you like children.

Seemingly the moment Goose left the table, Maverick’s gaze met yours. You were usually fine with eye connate, but there was something about the way that Maverick’s enchanting green eyes were staring into your own that made you feel both nervous and calm at the same time. You weren’t too sure what to say, or what the two of you could talk about, so as a way of diverting the imminence of your conversation, you took another drink of your beer, which only provided a moment relief where you weren’t required to think of what to say.

“You dance?” He asked you, the comment coming out of nowhere.

You shook your head, “I can sort-of dance, but I don’t that often,” you told him unsure of why you chose to tell him that. “And you?” You asked him back.

Maverick shook his head grinning, “not really my thing either.”

And then from across the room you heard a voice of familiarity, and right away you knew who it belonged to. Brett. Your ex-boyfriend Brett. The man who broke your heart Brett.

As much as you didn’t want to turn around, and face the man who had told you to take a step down from your career, your suspicions got the best of you, and as much as you didn’t wish to see him, there was some sort of burning panic in your chest that wouldn’t be fulfilled if you didn’t turn in your seat.

There he was. Standing tall, with his sandy hair, and well sculpted physique, whispering tiny inaudible thoughts into the ear of a woman with bleach blonde hair. Your eyes met his, and suddenly you wanted to leave. You wanted a sinkhole to come up into the bar and swallow you whole. And the moment Brett flashed you a grin, one that said, this is my new woman, you jealous? You felt the desire, no, the need to get out of the bar. You weren’t ready to face all of this just yet.

But time doesn’t always work in your favour. And so the moment Brett walked over to your table, his arm linked tightly around the slender waist of the bleach blonde woman, you weren’t too sure what to do.

Brett smiled in the kind of way that reminded you of what it was like to know him, before spewing out pleasantries and introducing the woman known as Crystal who was joined at his hip. “Its good to see you out y/n,” he said coyly, and in that moment, a ping of hatred found its way through your heart, how had you ever been with this man.

But instead of telling him off, as much as you wanted to, you smiled bluntly, your eyes revealing your true nature, “And its good to see you indulging in pleasures other than morning runs and cheap beer from the gas station.”

As Crystal gave you a dirty look, Maverick snorted before walking over to your end of the table and putting an arm around your chair, “I think its time for you to be on your way man,” he said to Brett.

Brett shrugged, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans, “I was just coming by to say hello,” before he walked away, his hand moving down from Crystals waist circulating above her ass. Good riddance Brett!

You turned to Maverick, flashing him a gentle smile, “thanks for that Mav,” before pausing and looking to the door, “if you don’t mind, I think I just need some air.”

And without protest, you pushed yourself up from your seat, and tried to compose yourself as the night time air hit your face. You felt warm – thanks to the alcohol – but the coldness felt lovely on your skin. You felt refreshed, cleansed almost.

On the opposite side of the Duke, was the sandy beach leading up to the ocean, which now, in the dark of night, was illumined by nearby houses and buildings, and the light of the moon reflected calmly on the waters. You decided to walk onto the sand, removing your heels from your feet and letting the now-cold sand wiggle around your toes as you walked, until you found a spot within the sand to take a seat.

Gosh, the one person you didn’t want to see tonight was Brett, and surely enough, he was there. You hated that you saw him, and you hated that you weren’t quite over him yet. Naturally, things would take time, you just wanted to get through that as quick as you could.

Behind you, you heard the sound of someone clearing their throat, which made you turn, your awareness of your surroundings coming into a fuller passage.

It was Maverick, waking slowly towards you through the sand. “Mind if I sit?” He asked.

You gestured to the available ground beside yourself, “by all means, be my guest.”

You didn’t really feel like you wanted company, but then again, it was Maverick, only Maverick, and you didn’t want to turn him away after he had stood up for you back there.

And as soon as Maverick sat down beside you, the warmth and familiarity of his scent filed your way through the air, a blend of sandalwood and citrus, and cedar, and near-summer nights, you found yourself relax a bit in his presence.

For a while, the two of you just sat there beneath the moonlight in one another's company, just listening to the sound of the waves upon the shore. It was peaceful.

“So that was him?” He finally asked you.

You nodded, turning your face ever so slightly to face him, “that was Brett, the Marine.”

Maverick nodded, “Goose told me about him,” he paused, “he seems like an ass.”

You chuckled, not too sure why, “you’re right about that.”

You weren't too sure how much of your failed relationship you wanted to share with your friend. You and Maverick weren't particularly close, but the two of you obviously cared about one another.

“I just hate,” you sighed, “I hate how when I was with him, I didn’t even realize how big of a dick he could be.”

Maverick looked over to you, as if he knew you were going to say more.

“He told me to give up my career after I’m done at Top Gun,” you said, feeling a sense of relief by telling someone else about the matter, “He wanted to get married, and have kids, and he wanted me to follow him wherever he went.”

Maverick scoffed.

“And its not that I even hate that that’s what he wanted, I hate that part of me, a very, very, small part of me, considered it. And sometimes, all I can do if worry about if I made the right decision, and walked away from him, from that life for the one Ive worked so hard for.”

Maverick shook his head, and in a more quiet tone, he turned to face you, “don't ever doubt yourself like that. Ever.”

You looked away from him, feeling some warm sensation in your chest, but when Maverick resumed to speak, you had no other choice but to turn back to face the brunette.

“You’re a pilot,” he said, “Its in your blood, its in your veins, its who you are. And you’re damn good at it. Hell, somedays I wish I was nearly as good as you. You fly with so much precision and drive and when you're up there, I only wish I could have a fraction of whatever it is that you do, because you are just so so good at it.”

You looked back to Maverick, noticing the soften in his usual expression. His moonlight eyes were on you, and only you.

“And if you ever think you would be better off with some dick like Brett, you’re wrong, because someone who loves you, shouldn’t hold you back from your potential, they should push you, they should inspire you to do better, to be better, to become better.”

For a while, the two of you just sat in silence, absorbing the pure intimacy of one another's gaze. You hadn’t realized how cold it was beginning to get because you were too busy thinking about what Maverick had just said. You didn’t realize the trail of goosebumps that had found their way across both of your arms, the cool night time air that brushed against them. But Maverick did.

Maverick slipped his arms out of his leather jacket, and draped it around your shoulders, a peaceful expression on his face. “Here,” he said, dawning the jacket, the very one that smelt so much like him it made you relax, “Its not super warm, but its better than nothing.”

When the warmth returned to your arms, almost the minute you gathered the material around yourself, your thoughts were finally gathered back into your head. You turned to Maverick, your knee brushing up against his faintly, but just enough that you were aware of its presence, and the way in which the faint warmth radiated through the fabric of both his jeans and yours, until you became hyperaware of its presence, and gave him a soft smile. “Thank you,” you told him.

“For the jacket,” you said, pulling the leather closer to your chest, “and for what you said. No one has ever told me that before.” You paused a moment, “it means a lot.”

Maverick’s expression softened and he looked at you contently, “its the truth,” he said softly.

You leaned into him, your head now resting on his shoulder, you felt a sense of peace, a sense of relief, you felt relaxed in Maverick’s presence. And when he leant his head, gently atop of yours, you knew that what Maverick had said was genuine.

And so, like you had initially thought, when Goose suggested the idea of going to a bar, you thought you would have maybe made one or two bad decisions, maybe choosing to kiss a man with far too much tongue, or follow him home. But what had ended up amounting from the evening was far better. You made a real connection, with someone who you would later find out, would become well worth you time.

That was the night you had met Maverick for the second time. The night when the two of you forged a connection one that even time wouldn’t be able to take away.

#top gun #maverick #pete maverick mitchell #lt pete mitchell #goose #maverick x goose #maverick mitchell #nick goose bradshaw #iceman #tom iceman kazansky #slider #maverick x reader #maverick x y/n #top gun fanfiction #top gun x reader #nick bradshaw

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writtenbyred · 2 months

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Something Bad // A Matt Murdock x Reader fic // Slow burn

Note: Okay so I finally decided to post something I've had in my docs as a draft for forever, because why not. A slow burn matt murdock x reader romance with a whole lot of original storyline and plot building in this first chapter if you're willing to stick with it until you get the entrance of wonderful and rageful Matt.

Warnings: Reference to sexual violence/assault in this chapter.

Disclaimer: I have, since writing up lots for this story and planning it out and becoming attached to my character, seen other fics using an 'empath' OC, but I have become very attached to 'Ana' and I guess daredevil and all its angst lends itself well to an empath story so I'm sending this out into the ether anyways.

Go forth and read if you would like to <3 - Red

Chapter 1. Emotions.

Sat at a cold, metal table on a particularly uncomfortable chair, you looked intently at the person sitting opposite. There sat a young girl. In her file it said she was 21, but if you hadn’t seen that and had to hazard a guess, you’d have presumed her to be around 18. The way her eyes were cloudy with tears, her hands shaking slightly as she held them up to her chin, elbows lent on the cold metal, it all contributed to making her look younger - small, in that moment.

“It’s okay, Emma” You spoke, edging your hands forward on the table in a subconscious show of support. “You can take your time, we’re in no rush”

Emma looked upwards, then. You watched as a single tear slipped from her eye, only briefly tumbling down her cheek before Emma reached to wipe it with her sleeve.

“I’m sorry,” Emma stuttered a little over her words, her voice raspy from emotion. “I’m being silly, I just-”

As her words cut off mid sentence, you reached your hand forward quickly to place a comforting hand on Emma’s arm. The dark tumbling of vivid feelings - sadness, shame and fear, that you were already feeling inside your chest (or stomach, mind, just about everywhere? You weren’t 100% where the feelings of others ended up locating themselves within you) multiplied until she felt overwhelmed, having to shake her head with an exhale to push through them.

“Do not apologise. You are not being silly, and have nothing to feel sorry for. This is something incredibly difficult you’re doing, and I’m here to help you through it.” You grasped the girl's hand at that point, and in the way that you still did not fully understand, a wave of whatever calm you could find within yourself washed over you and towards Emma for a moment, and the girl let out a sigh as you watched some of that pain leave her. In that moment you felt good, happy that she could provide this sort of relief for somebody, even if only temporarily and not without an increase in your own anxieties.

“Thank you, I… I think I’m ready to talk now” And Emma’s words came at a perfect time, as a few moments later your head turned to the door, a soft knock floating through.

“You can come in” You called out to the officer you knew was standing on the other side, and then the door opened.

A police officer with a kind face stepped into the room, you had spoken with him earlier when you had first arrived - You were pretty sure he had said his name was Brett. He sent a small smile towards you both, and his empathy for the girl's situation shone through, even if you knew he would never be able to understand her emotions quite as well as you could.

“Sorry to interrupt, I just wanted to see how you were getting on” He walked towards the table and you realised then he was holding a mug in his hand, placing it down in front of the girl, he then gestured towards it. “It’s tea.” Emma reached her hand out to grasp it and looked to give him a smile in thanks.

“Sorry Miss Johnson, I didn’t think to get you anything-” You cut off the officer - still unsure if it was definitely Brett he had said, definitely something with a B - before he could finish.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine.” You shifted her attention back to Emma as she released the hand you had half forgotten she was still holding in order to bring the mug to her lips. She seemed more relaxed now, the awful panic of hopelessness and shame creeping in having dissipated slightly.

“So, do you think we’re ready to make a full statement, or?” He trailed off slightly, looking from Emma to you. You looked to the girl, letting the silence continue for as long as necessary, giving the girl the opportunity to make her own decision. You knew her ability to say yes or no had already been taken from her at least once that day, and you weren’t about to do it again.

“Yes, I’m ready to talk now” Emma seemed to sit up a little in her seat, lifting her head higher in her decision.

“Okay, great. I’ll be taking it from you, if that’s okay? We can try to find a female officer if you’ll be more comfortable.” Brett added, pulling the lone chair from the corner of the room to the table in order to sit in between them.

“No, that's fine. But, could Ana stay, please?” Emma’s eyes shifted to yours, and the subtle plea held within them was noticeable, even if you couldn’t feel the emotion rolling off of her.

“That’s okay with me, If Miss Johnson-”

“Of course” You spoke to the room, and then to Emma. “I’ll stay.”

And so you did.

You stayed and listened as Emma spoke of what happened early that morning, when she had been finishing a night shift at around 5am. What had happened when the sky was still dark and Hell’s Kitchen still shrouded in shadows as she made the short walk through back streets towards a bus route. As she had been grabbed, attacked by rough hands who pulled her into an alleyway. You felt fear, panic rising in bubbles from her stomach, to her chest, to her throat. And so you leant forward, taking the girl’s shaking hand in yours when she’d faltered over her retelling, stopping to catch her breath through tears, the emotions intensifying as she worked to calm them. A subtle nudge from your mind, some quiet ringing in your own ears, and you saw as Emma’s shoulders seemed to relax slightly, her rapid breaths slowing and stabilising, allowing her to continue on. You offered her a weak smile in encouragement.

There were many times in your life where you had hated the fact that you were capable of this. When things had become overwhelming when you were younger, when emotions would feel like they were strangling you in some situations.

You hated hospitals, always. The fear, the pain, the hopelessness from so many had twisted painful knots into your stomach, caused your chest to tighten and your eyes to burn, when your Mum was sick, you had avoided the hospital as much as possible, often unable to visit her. your own home, after your mum had died, now that was simply unbearable.

But in rare moments like this, You were grateful for your ability to take some of the girl’s pain away, even if you had to feel it in turn.

Once the difficult conversation was done, Officer Brett Mahoney (you had read his name tag) had stopped the recording and explained to Emma what would happen next. Through this, though, and whilst they left the room and left Emma waiting for whoever she had contacted to come, You’s world was blurred. your body was exhausted, and a deep ache had built within you as you still felt all the painful emotions, now overwhelming your mind after such time. you had to stabilise yourself against the wall in the hallway for a moment whilst Officer Mahoney had gone to talk to an officer, closing your eyes to wait for the momentary dizziness to pass.

Hearing your name made you open your eyes, stand up straighter to face Officer Mahoney.

“Miss. Johnson, thank you for coming down.” His face was serious but the warmth shone through his eyes, as well as his feelings of appreciation, which washed over You like a hot shower, a momentary recess from the dark and cutting emotions you still had swirling within your. “Honestly, I don’t know how you do it, but you really managed to calm her down. She was a mess before, understandably. I don’t know if we would have gotten that statement until morning otherwise. Gives us a much better chance of finding the guy”.

“It’s no bother, I’m happy to do it” You sent a smile at him, your head slowly returning to functioning more capably. And as much as it did take a lot out of you, dealing with the overwhelming emotions of these difficult situations and the police station in general, you really were happy to do it.

“We’re getting a lot of similar cases at the minute” He shook his head at that and a grimace came on You’s face. you knew that, you’d had to do this for far more people lately. “It would be useful to have you there in future.”

A wave of nausea passed over you as another rush of panic and grief washed over you. You stole a glance back to the room you’d just been in, only a few feet away, and you realised you needed to get as far away from it as possible. So you reached your hand into the pocket of your jacket and quickly picked up your card, handing it to Brett with a forced smile.

“Call me here if you ever need someone again” You spoke before lifting your bag on your shoulder and turning to head towards the door, as quickly as you could without causing alarm. On the way out you felt a mixture of anger, grief, happiness, and then some more fear thrown in for good measure, all flowing out of the people sitting in the station.

Once you reached the large entrance doors, finally pushing outside into the cool air, you breathed in a deep sigh of relief. Your hands anxiously patted at your thighs, leaning your whole upper body forward as you shut your eyes, willing your brain to just calm. The emotions within you started to simmer down, as the outside air filled your lungs, it seemed as you exhaled a lot of the pain went with it, and you welcomed that calmer feeling, though some of the dizziness remained.

You hadn’t always been able to do this. As a kid you could remember people praising your empathy, a kind warm child who always wanted to make people feel better, so you supposed maybe it had always lived inside of you. Not that you really understood what ‘it’ was, but it was as you got a little older that it really started. As you started hitting teenage years, it was… overwhelming.

As other kids started being aware of themselves; feeling emotions more deeply, feeling embarrassment, starting to explore romantic interests - You felt it all, except not only for yourself. You supposed one of the first times you realised what was happening to you wasn’t normal was in 8th grade. A girl had come into class after a couple days away, her eyes looked a little lifeless, dark circles and redness that indicated she had been crying, but none of the other 13 year olds seemed to notice this, but You did, because as she walked into the room a pit opened at the bottom of your stomach, seemingly making room for the dark horrific feeling of a sad pain mixed with guilt, fear, hopelessness and anger to enter, taking You’s breath away. As it turned out, the girl had lost her father. That was the first time you had known what grief felt like, and it certainly wasn’t the last.

You checked your phone for the time, seeing it was 5:45pm, you’d spent far more time in the police station than you had expected to, and it was time for you to call it a day. You mostly worked alone, the card you handed over simply stating your name, and a description of Emotional counselling/Advocate/Representative to try and encompass the range of things you did for people. In reality this was everything from working with somebody to calm their nerves before giving a large presentation to, what you did far more often, coaching people who were scared and traumatised giving statements and later testifying in court. You were also part of a company who provided advocates to those who were vulnerable in any legal proceedings or meetings with law enforcement, but often once you had worked with somebody, you handed them your personal card, as agencies tended to pay jack shit.

You had desperately wanted to find any way you could put this curse some would call a gift to use, to try and help people if you could. You had too much experience of not being able to help people, especially the ones you loved, which was still eagerly eating away at you.

Near the station was a coffee shop you’d been to a few times before or after similar trips, and as much as caffeine may not help the banging headache that you had building, in that moment you really didn’t care.

On your short walk to the shop, the fluttering of different feelings inside you that you’d grown used to continued. Somebody on the phone was clearly in love, a warmth spreading through you as you pushed past the woman smiling at whoever she was talking to. Another was stressed, walking with purpose and tension in his shoulders which had passed through to you for a moment. You shook your head, willing yourself to try to tune it out for the moment.

You reached the shop, and headed to join the queue of people also craving their caffeine fix.

You browsed the menu as you took shuffling steps as the line kept moving up, your eyes falling on a sweet caramel filled coffee, your heart tugging towards it. When you stepped up to the counter, however, you ordered a large black coffee. You had a guilty pleasure of sickly sweet coffee, however your life wasn’t so much about what you wanted anymore.

You took a large gulp of the bitter and hot liquid that scalded your throat slightly, but it was better than feeling the remnants of the acidic feeling of panic you’d felt there all afternoon.

Back at your one bedroomed, simple apartment You had chucked your coffee cup into the bin, your body now slightly electrified by the caffeine content, of which you were glad. You expected the night ahead of you may be a long one, and the more awake you were for it, the better.

Grabbing your laptop, you placed it on your rectangular coffee table, taking a seat on the somewhat battered hard leather couch. You then pulled the laptop onto your lap, pressing the power on button.

Once the light finally flickered on and the screen illuminated, you opened up a document you had, very cleverly you thought, entitled Mom’s recipes. Scrolling past the few simple recipes you’d stolen from the Food Network, you came to the page on which you were keeping the information you had gathered. You bit your lower lip as your eyes darted back and forth to scan the things you had previously written.

There was only just under a page of short sentences, but it was a better position than you had been in 6 months ago, so you would take it.

“Daniel - Previous chef at Le Frère Juste restaurant had been known to have fallen into the criminal network of Hell’s Kitchen, believed to be due to a substance abuse problem Mr.-”

You stopped reading that particular sentence, which was a quote from a police report you had obtained a couple months back through means that some would possibly frown upon, including the police that it came from, which meant that perhaps it wasn’t entirely legal. What you had been more interested in was the name attached to said report. One Officer Jenkins, who you had spent time trying to track down for more information, but was so far unsuccessful.

You weren't empty handed, however.

At the beginning was the hardest, not knowing where to look for information,how to recognise the snippets of clues that could lead to more. But once you had finally gotten one name, you’d tumbled into another, then another. you should’ve been more shocked to discover the dark, tangled web of criminal factions that underpinned Hell’s Kitchen, but having lived here since you were 6 years old, you’d already seen (and felt) much of the darkness that shrouded Hell’s Kitchen.

The names you had gathered were few, but you were hopeful one of them could provide you with information you needed. So far you had only approached one of the men on your list, who had been unable to give you any information about Daniel or what he was involved with before he had died. You had half expected that however, having picked what you presumed to be the weakest first, to test whether you would be capable of approaching them, if you could use your ability in the right way to cause them to fear you enough to hand over information. Information you may not have gotten, but the sight of the guy running away at full speed once you’d lightened your effect on him certainly improved your confidence in the matter.

You had attended some form of fighting sport since you were a teen on and off, completing a couple years of boxing, some karate, kickboxing also. You’d figured out that punching, kicking, generally throwing yourself at things in some way was a great method for releasing some of the intense emotions pent up inside you that spilled out from everyone else into you. However, you were not technically a fighter of any kind, so 6 months ago when you’d decided this was something you would have to do, for Daniel, you’d started taking self defence lessons, and then deciding you wanted something a little more on the offensive, you’d started one-on-one kickboxing. Of course, you hoped to be successful enough at using your ability against people, but you weren't stupid, and knew you were getting yourself into something dangerous, and thought it best not to rely on simply scaring gang members into not killing you.

Even with trembling hands, you thought, surely a gun shot would eventually be on target.

Tonight, however, you were hoping for a more successful night. you eyed the second name on your list, and the information you had gained on where this Alex Peters would be this evening by doing some, as some may say, light stalking of Alex a couple of nights earlier this week. you’d known his favourite bar hangout, and after frequenting there many times, you finally got lucky and spotted him at the start of the week, and now you knew he was going to be meeting with some others tonight in Hell’s Kitchen.

Planning on getting him alone, and asking him what he knew about Daniel, you slipped into your darker, more athletic clothing hoping to blend into the shadows. Once you had what you needed, including a small pen knife and mace on your keys, the only physical offensive weapons you had, the last thing you did before you left was pull up your dark hood over your head.

The air in Hell’s Kitchen was cool as an inky darkness had fallen over the sky, illuminated only by the light pollution spilling out of New York City. You sat crouched on a fire escape, one you’d had to wrestle with a pull-down ladder in order to get up on to. It provided you the perfect vantage point to watch what was happening below. You held a small digital camera in your hand, nothing special since you weren't exactly rolling in cash, however it took better quality pictures than your phone did. you weren't exactly sure why you were collecting photos of the criminal rings you had been tipped off to, or what you may use them for, but it made you feel like you were doing something.

Down below, you were watching 5 men interact. One of these was the guy who’s name you’d been given, with a possible connection to Daniel: That was Alex Peters, a relatively short man with a shaved head and tattoos littering his large, muscular arms and seeping on to his neck. Typically exactly what you’d expect from some sort of intimidating muscle man for a gang. Great, You thought, you weren't exactly looking forward to trying to get information from him.

The others seemed to be a mix of associates of Alex and another group. They were discussing something in tones too hushed for you to be able to make out what they were saying, but considering the fact they were a bunch of criminals attached to everything from drugs to murder, you’d hazard a guess that it wasn’t anything good.

They stood within a half decrepit building, either a warehouse or an old multstorey car park of which only metal bones remained, You weren't sure, but either way the damage, which was presumably a result of The Incident, made for a great hotspot for criminal activities, but also thankfully allowed you a great view from your vantage point.

Alex started to split from the rest of the pack, and your attention peaked, quickly placing away your camera into the small over shoulder bag you had, standing yourself up, a little, in preparation.

He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, shouting back to the others whilst he walked in the opposite direction to where they were headed towards a car trunk.

He shouted something incomprehensible, and you started to move. your footsteps light and you shimmied yourself back down the ladder you’d used to climb up in the first place. you could hear your own heart beating loudly in your ears, your chest thudding as you tried to control your breath before approaching this man. For somebody with the ability to manipulate somebody else’s emotions, you sure could struggle with your own sometimes.

You pulled your hood over your head even further, more as a comfort action than anything else. Alex had rounded the corner of a half broken down wall, You watching the light from his cigarette as you circled round in the shadows, crouching hidden behind a large metal waste bin as you ran over and over in your head what was about to happen. You would approach as quickly as possible, the minute he turned the opposite direction and then… Well you hoped that some muscle memory from your far too few kickboxing lessons and the somewhat unpredictable emotional manipulation powers would come into clutch in the moment.

In the distance, there was the loud sound of the other men, clattering of metal as they looked through their trunk and laughed together, but you couldn’t hear that. The world around had slipped away, a dull pressure building in your ears that made everything around your seem slightly slower, it built further as Alex Peters pulled his old phone from his pocket, his attention now turned away from your direction, and the fullness in your ears seemed to suddenly pop, and then everything was moving fast again; too fast.

In a swift movement, you stood to your feet, and gliding steps took you suddenly right to where Alex stood. He started to turn towards you, a breath of an almost word leaving his mouth as he instinctively raised his arm to push you away, but you stepped back, and threw your knee up quickly, your full body weight behind you as you jutted it into his stomach, winding him.

“What the F-” Alex’s breathless words came out quickly, but you couldn’t have him alerting the other men to your presence, because then you’d seriously be screwed, so you quickly reached your hand out to his shoulder, and let an intense jolt of fear out of yourself.

The man before you went rigid, confusion seeming to pass his face before a look of terror enveloped it. You had felt scared more than enough times in your life, and still carried enough of that around to pull it from yourself and throw it into him. So that’s what you did.

A continuous pressure of terror sent between two minds, and soon it was easy enough for you to grip him harder, bringing your other hand to his opposite shoulder, shoving him back against the brick wall.

“Alex Peters.” your voice came out more gruff than you’d ever normally hear yourself sound. It was laced with anger, and presumably adrenaline, but you had to keep it quiet. His stuck wide eyes darted back and forth between yours and the vice-like grip of your hands. He seemed to try to speak, but was unable to, so you continued. “I’m going to give you a name. And you are going to tell me what you know.”

He just looked at you, so you moved your hand to his throat, reaching deeper within yourself to channel more intense feelings into him. He opened his mouth to speak, but instead he gave a quick nod, a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead.

“Daniel, Daniel Johnson. Do you kno-” you couldn’t finish your sentence as your adrenaline fueled trance was suddenly broken by the clashing sound you heard from just past the wall. you whipped your head towards the sound. Your concentration was broken, your mind losing its grip on the channelling emotions for just a moment. But it was long enough for Alex Peters to regain some of his composure, clearly finding his voice enough to shout out, and push you backwards, causing you to stumble over your own legs.

Your eyes were back on him just in time to see his still shaking fist coming towards you, ringing in your ears a moment later as you were too late to fully avoid his hand connecting with the side of your temple. you doubled over for a moment, and suddenly the nerve endings in the front of your face exploded in pain, his knee having connected directly with your nose. you leant back against the metal you originally hid behind, the coolness aiding the heat burning through you. You mustered up the adrenaline to lift yourself up, going after him.

However, as your fingers were just grasping his jacket to pull him backwards, your eyes focused ahead and saw that the other men were now approaching. your fuzzy mind had only enough time to pull into focus one word; Shit.

All of a sudden, with the distant sound of a soft thud, there was another figure standing before you. In the dim light, it seemed like just a shadow of a man. But all of a sudden, one of the men was on the floor, and the others were now focused on a new target.

The new development didn’t keep your attention long though, with the others now running to throw punches at the shadow figure, you could turn back to Alex and throw your arms at him again.

You grabbed his forearm, and let your mind kick into action in a way that was becoming more practised, more perfected. you threw your body weight at him, stumbling you both back against the brick wall, Alex’s back thudding roughly against it at which he let out a small cry.

“Daniel Johnson, tell me.” Your voice was rushed, desperation sneaking through into your tone, your need for answers burning at your already gravelly throat. His eyes however were focused to his right, where over his shoulder, the other men he’d been with were either choosing to run or being beaten to the ground. His fabricated terror seemingly having found a new perpetrator in the shadow man. And he fought back against you, clearly desperate to join his fellow cowards in escape. You were pushed backwards once again, your smaller frame at your disadvantage, and for a moment your breath caught in your throat, the flash of dark metal catching your eye, the gun in Alex’s hand being lifted up towards you, but almost instantly, Alex disappeared from before you.

You could feel your shaky breaths coming back, faster than usual, the quickened beats of your heart in your ears at full volume again. The gun was gone from Alex’s hand when you looked back to him, and instead he was being hit swiftly around the head with it, knocking him sideways. you watched as the shadow of a man grabbed Alex by the neck, his other hand clasped into a fist, quickly connecting with the side of Alex’s temple. Once. Twice. A third hit, and Alex’s eyes had fallen closed, his body grew limp, and it fell to the floor as the man released his hold on his neck.

For a moment you just stood there, watching the back of the man clad all in black, your quick and shallow breaths seemingly mirroring his as his tight shoulders heaved up and down in steady rhythm. For a moment, he just stood there also. Still, unmoving.

Slowly, he turned around to face you. You weren’t sure how you were meant to feel, having seen this man just take out 5 or more men in the space of a couple minutes, standing alone in an alleyway with him, but the large amount of adrenaline was clearly still coursing through your veins because you didn’t take much notice to how you should feel.

What you did feel in that moment, though, was a deep seated rage. you hadn’t the functioning brain power in that moment to ponder whether that emotion was bubbling up inside of you or flooding out of the man before you.

You watched him as he seemed to consider you for a moment, his head twitched to the side, and you tried to study him also, but the majority of his face was covered by black cloth. You took a momentary glance over his all black attire, the thin material splayed across his thick torso severely lacking in protection. Before he had the chance to say anything, the thick and red hot rage was clawing at her throat to be verbalised.

“What the hell.” Your voice was gravelly, pitched low as you stood in some sort of standoff with this shadow of a man. You couldn’t see his facial expression, only the slight tick in his jaw as he slowly cocked his head in the other direction.

“Excuse me?” His voice was deep. It was rough and came from deep in his chest, which was still rising and falling in rapid respiration. You simply narrowed your eyes at him, reasonable thought and any sense of self preservation clearly out of the window with the adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

“I said, what the hell, man” You lifted a hand to your hair, roughly pushing away the wisps of it that had fallen in front of your face. “I was just about to- well, whatever, but you jump in here and ruin it.” Your voice was somewhat hectic.

With Alex Peters having run off, your chance of getting some more information about Daniel had gone with him, and at that moment, all of your negative feelings about that outcome were being filtered and thrown straight at the man before you. It seemed those feelings were mostly anger.

His lips seemed to press into an even more grim line, as he shook his head in a movement ever so slight, it may have been a subconscious reflex in his disagreement.

“If I hadn’t jumped in when I did then you’d most likely be dead right now.” He stated matter of factly, causing you to scoff.

“I can handle myself just fine, thank you.” Your hands rested upon your hips, trying to hide the way they still shook slightly from the man before you, an attempt to exude confidence, despite the way your heart rate was still racing.

“I’m not sure I would call having a gun pointed to your head, handling yourself, exactly.” Although his lips remained in a line, his voice still grim, it gained the slightest lilt of teasing to it, and flames of annoyance built up in your chest, escaping in the way of a groan of exasperation.

“I would have been perfectly fine, without you showing up and chasing away my- That guy.” Words flew from your mouth a little quicker than you could filter them, realising you probably shouldn’t be telling details of your plans to the stranger in front of you.

“Sure you would.” His voice and the feelings that flew off of him held no ounce of truth. “You need to be more careful, what are you doing out here trying to talk to these guys?” His head cocked to the side once against, an almost questioning taunt to his positioning.

His near chastising tone brought a laugh from your lips.

“What’s it to you?” You narrowed your eyes at him, taking a small step back from him, looking him up and down from clothed face down to a tough black boot, and it clicked for you where you'd seen this shadow man before. You drew in a sharp breath.

The Man in Black.

You’d seen the papers as you walked past the stands, you’d seen the news and heard local radio all talking about this Man in Black. A vigilante sort, who seemed to be travelling around Hell’s Kitchen and regularly beating the shit out of people.

“Well, I’m just trying to-” He started again, less gravel to his voice now he seemed to have calmed a bit, but you cut him off before he could impart his opinion on to you.

“Stop it. I know who you are” He stilled for a moment, taking you in as you purposely rolled your shoulders back, standing a little taller before him, still feeling those sparks of rage flickering. “The Man in Black” You added emphasis to his given title with the lilt of sarcasm in your voice clear.

“I don’t need to take advice from some vigilante, going around and spreading violence. You have no idea what I’m doing, who I am,” For some reason you hadn’t quite realised, a lot of vitriol was building into your voice as you addressed the man in black. Thinking of the many people you’d heard of him having fought. The people he’d hurt. How was he to know if the people he fought deserved it? What if it was somebody just caught up with the wrong people. Someone like Daniel. “You’ve screwed things up for me here tonight, I have a banging headache from being punched, and also knee-d actually, in the face, and now no information, so thank you very much, Man in Black, but I think this is where I’ll be bidding you goodnight.

His lips parted slightly, which was just visible to you under the dim glow of distant street lights down the alley. It looked like he was about to speak, but before he could you heaved your bag further up your shoulder, a wince as you jolted your head with your movement, and spun on your heel.

“You’re hurt…” His gruff voice trailed off, but you simply waved a hand in his direction, exhaustion suddenly pulling at your mind, and knowing vehemently that you did not need saving by some guy in a black mask.

You continued to retrace your steps towards the ladder that led you back to your vantage point and a way home, empty handed. However, the deep voice stopped you again whilst you were only a few metres away.

“Wait.” You tilted your head slightly back in his direction. “The name you said, Daniel Johnson was it-”

Anger shot through your veins, your voice coming out as more of a growl. “Don’t say that name” You simply said, watching as the man in black stood still, his lips still parted in question. But you simply turned and walked away, having had enough of the night.

Your legs dragged heavy beneath you, feeling like logs as you battled each step. Now the adrenaline was wearing off, every step felt more difficult, and exhaustion was truly trying to pull you under the whole way back to your flat.

As you walked down dark back alleys and hidden streets, you tried not to think about the fact that you’d had a gun pulled on you this evening, the cool metal of it still a phantom feeling against the skin of your head. Tried not to think about the fact that you could have died, and that for all of that, you still had no new information, thanks to the Man in Black.

A couple of blocks from the location of your night's altercation, you paused, a heavy stone in your chest as you lent your head back against the cold and rough brick of an alley wall. A couple of shaky breaths escaped you, and much to your dismay, now that you were alone, surrounded by nobody’s emotions but your own, a tear slid from between your lashes down and over your cheekbone. You shook your head, and pushed off the wall with a kick of your feet, desperate to get yourself home.

You pulled your jacket closer around your body, your hood still tight over your head, and walked quickly through the darkened and unsafe streets of Hell’s Kitchen at night, in the direction of your apartment. You kept your head down, trying your best to avoid any trouble. You didn’t think you had it in you for another fight of any kind this evening.

You weren’t aware, however, that were you to encounter one, the man in black would be right there with you.

#matt murdock #fan fiction #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x oc #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock fanfic #here goes nothing #sending this out into the ether

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