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#trophy wife in training
red-pill-to-swallow · 7 months
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Doing your part in a relationship
Hey babes,
it’s Monday – a new, fresh week and the ultimate opportunity to make some changes.
I don’t know why it feels so much better to start a new routine on a Monday than it does on a random Wednesday.
I took some time after I posted my last two posts and really thought about the relationship dynamic between my man and me.
I thought about changes that I would like to make and what could help us to become a better couple.
Honestly, I was pretty shocked after all my thinking because it turns out that my man is the rock in this relationship and I am not sure why he is still sticking around when he could probably do so much better.
But let me explain:
I gave up working in my full-time job around January 2023 and have been home ever since then.
My man was aware that I was totally burned out from my job and offered me that I could stay at home and take care of the household chores.
Previously we used to split the chores around the house roughly 50/50. It was very fair and in some weeks he did more than me and some weeks I did more than him, like it’s in every relationship.
I would say that I am fairly good at housekeeping. I know how to cook, how to clean and how to do laundry.
However – I never before was responsible for everything. From going grocery shopping and planning meals to cleaning the bathrooms every week – suddenly all of this was on me.
I struggle really bad with organizing myself, this was one of the reasons why I was so burned out from my previous job, and I started slacking.
I would do the laundry one day and take three days before I started folding it. My man literally had no underwear one time and flipped out because that’s obviously disgusting and instead of improving – I started to get mad at him.
It wasn’t only the laundry, it also began affecting my cooking – which I loved doing before – and I would start making only frozen meals or just serving cold meat cuts with bread.
We started fighting a lot more because my man was sad, that instead of relaxing at home he would need to help me with my chores – after a full workday.
I had my epiphany a few weeks ago (when I made this blog) and realized that my man has every right to be mad at me. He does his job. I am not.
So, let’s see – my man works really though hours. He leaves the house early in the morning and comes home in the early evening. He’s usually stressed because his job is very demanding and he is responsible for a lot of people.
Imagine coming home to your girlfriend, who’s staying at home, and almost nothing is done. The fridge isn’t restocked, the floor is dirty and there is no food. After your shower you realize that you have no fresh underwear because your girlfriend didn’t wash any.
I would flip out too.
My behavior was/is borderline disrespectful and I am honestly ashamed because of it. I would have broken up with me if I was him.
But here we are – still together and I don’t plan on dodging this second chance.
I think many girls that want the lifestyle of a spoiled girlfriend or a stay at home girlfriend don’t realize how hard it is to organize a whole household on your own.
Yes, there might be some men out there that are so rich that they don’t mind employing staff to help around the house, but I don’t think that this is achievable for a woman in her twenties without having various high value connections in the right circles. At least I don’t have those connections.
I am responsible for keeping the house clean, making food and going grocery shopping. That takes maybe 5 hours of my day and the rest of the time I can do whatever I want.
My man only wants to come home to a clean, organized house with a stocked fridge and possibly a hot meal on the stove.
Honestly – he is the one that is working his ass off every day, not me.
The worst is, that I even started to neglect my appearance. I used to shave every second day and that slowly progressed to only once a week. I used to color my hair religiously and worked out at least three times a week.
Now I haven’t touched up my hair in over three months, my roots are disgusting and I am very ashamed because of it. I mean, even though my man pays for my beauty appointments – I couldn’t get my ass up.
However, I cleaned our whole house today. From the bottom to the top. It’s spotless. I did laundry and went grocery shopping and I made a plan on how to maintain all of those things.
I won’t share the plan just yet because I want to make sure that I can actually follow it before I share it with you.
What should you take with you after reading this rant?
Be careful that you’re always a responsible partner. Don’t be like me. If you’re telling your partner that you plan on doing something – actually follow through and do it. Don’t disappoint them all the time.
Make sure that you acknowledge what they do for you and thank them for it every once in a while.
It is unattractive to be lazy and not being able to keep up with your standards. It’s unfair to your partner to let yourself go and they have every right to be upset about it.
Think before you speak and start an argument. Are you really right? Is it worth to start an argument about something that is your responsibility?
I mean, my man made it clear in the beginning: If I want to stay at home and live a cozy life – I have to take care of the house while he works and provides for us both.
He does his part of the agreement. Every single day.
I’ve only done my part of the agreement when I felt like it and that is not okay. But I am changing and I know that he has already forgiven me for all the hassle.
See you soon
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michaeljoncarter · 10 months
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Hey, hey! Sorry to bother you with this kind of question but, do you know what's the comic in which Booster Gold appears with that pink... idk, crop top or something????? I know I've seen him with something like that before but I just don't remember where and it's driving me nuts.
If you know and could tell me, I'd really appreciate it.
i think you're looking for Justice League America #74 & 75? a top 10 90s fashion moment for sure
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moononastring · 2 years
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Had two cups of coffee already and am still ready to fall asleep 😴
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amarantoestrella · 4 months
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Good maaaaawwwwninnnng!!! So sleepy just want to stay home and be South Terano (36), MMA champion's little princess :(
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gubsbuubs · 4 months
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Trophy wife
Pt. 2 is out - It´s Mutual
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~ 4.5K
Warnings: Typical case descriptions, kissing and petting, enemies to lovers, a set up for a smut. Summary: When an unsub targets trophy wives, (Y/N) is asked to go undercover with her nemesis, Spencer Reid, posing as a couple to lure the killer. As they navigate a high-stakes operation, tensions escalate, blurring the lines between their professional and personal animosity.
Preview: "All this animosity, the bickering... we don't actually hate each other; we want each other.” He stared into my eyes before continuing, “And I don't think I can go another day without tasting you."
A/N: Hi everyone, this is my first-ever fanfiction. I initially wanted to write smut, but to add depth, I decided to craft this background story. English is not my first language. I hope you all enjoy it, and any and all comments are appreciated 🍒
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“Are those poker chips?” Derek asked as the images from the most recent crime scene appeared on the screen behind Garcia.
"Bingo, my lucky charm! Those are poker chips, and you've hit the jackpot," Garcia continued. “This is the second woman to be found in a motel room stabbed and extremely beaten in the last two weeks.”
“The Vegas police have requested our help,” Hotch informed as he analyzed the pictures.
Ross quirked up his eyebrows as an amused smile played on his lips. "Well, either he really likes poker, or he's on a mission to prove that crime can be a high-stakes game…"
"Well, he's certainly raising the stakes in our investigation," I added, my remark eliciting another round of chuckles.
"Children, behave, please," JJ attempted to redirect the team's focus to the situation at hand.
As I scanned the pictures, my index finger reached above the image on the table. "The persistent appearance of poker chips as a signature strongly suggests a connection to the unsub’s personal experiences, perhaps indicating a deep involvement with poker, possibly even as a player. Maybe…”
“While symbolism is intriguing, we should prioritize empirical evidence. Jumping to conclusions based on perceived patterns might lead us astray." My brows furrowed in annoyance as I turned my head, hearing him cut off my train of thought. His tone carried a subtle bitterness, as if questioning the validity of my analysis.
And there he fucking was again, Dr. Spencer Reid, incessantly questioning my every move, as if my mere presence irked him to no end.
Our "relationship," if you could really call it that, was basically just a constant back-and-forth of arguing, interruptions, and tension you could practically cut with a knife. We tried to keep it professional for the team's sake, but it was obvious we weren't exactly best buds.
And what kept his skepticism going wasn't just about work competition; it was personal. He had this lingering grudge because I had stepped in after his buddy, Alex Blake, bailed on the BAU, leaving him behind.
To be honest, his animosity seemed mostly one-sided. At first, I admired Spencer's intellect and respected his dedication to the job. Plus, let's be real, I wasn't blind—I definitely noticed he was a good-looking guy. But his hostility kind of pushed me to throw up walls and respond with a guarded attitude. And then, well, naturally, I found some twisted enjoyment in getting under his skin and making him lose his cool.
"How can you have an IQ of 182 and yet be so clueless?" I scoffed, laughing. "Sure, you're intelligent, but common sense seems to elude you at times."
Reid stared for a moment, a mix of shock and rage flickering across his otherwise monotone, expressionless face. His eyes narrowed, and he responded curtly, "It's 187, and (Y/N), I would advise you to mind your manners when addressing me. My intelligence surpasses yours by far more than a number could explain." As he stood there, staring into my eyes, arms crossed by the presentation board, a surge of irritation pulsed through me. I was poised to respond, the words itching at the tip of my tongue, but before I could unleash them, Derek intervened. With a subtle shift in his posture, he leaned in towards the table, effectively redirecting our focus. A deliberate clearing of his throat signaled the shift in conversation. "The sheer brutality of these killings unmistakably points to an unsub fueled by intense rage. The way the victims were forcefully and repeatedly stabbed suggests a perpetrator with considerable physical strength and stamina.”
"The messy and disorganized scene adds another layer to the unsub's profile. Women just tend to be cleaner, so we are definitely dealing with a man,” JJ added.
“They are waiting for us, we can discuss the rest of the preliminary profile on the jet, wheels up in thirty,” Hotch said as he stood up, the team following right after.
--x--
As I focused on the files spread out in front of me, the sound of the door swinging open abruptly pulled my attention away. "We've got another body," Hotch announced, his voice cutting through the silence that lingered in the small meeting room lent to us by the Las Vegas police.
By now, we had successfully linked the unsub to the world of poker. Our victims, all married, had been last seen with their partners at casinos during poker nights, forming a clear pattern. Despite our breakthroughs, the mystery surrounding his identity and motive remained unsolved.
"Rebecca Miller, 29 years old, was last seen with her husband at Riverside Casino," Hotch added, his tone steady as he placed the picture of the victim on the board. "Witnesses report they were very affectionate. Her husband mentioned she went to get them drinks before she disappeared," he continued, his gaze scanning the room, inviting any additional insights or comments from the team.
"She definitely fits the victimology—young, beautiful, and married to an avid poker player," JJ remarked casually as she got up to take a closer look at the picture.
Rossi gazed into the distance, lost in thought. "They must be raking in serious cash playing poker. Why else would these stunners be tying the knot with someone clearly out of their league?" he mused aloud.
As I scanned the pictures of the victims, a realization began to form in my mind. Each photograph depicted a strikingly beautiful woman, always beside her husband, who often appeared much older or less attractive in comparison. "They're trophy wives," I exclaimed, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place.
I glanced to my left, where Reid stood, scoffing and shaking his head. "Trophy wives?" he immediately questioned, his focus remaining fixed on the board as he continued drawing lines for the geographical profile.
"Well, think about it," I elaborated, gesturing toward the pictures of the women. "These women, young and beautiful, carefully curated for a certain image, accompanying their husbands to the poker games, spending the entire night all over them. How had we not seen this glaring pattern before?"
"That's a rather simplistic and uninformed view, (Y/LN)," he countered. "These women had successful careers. Assuming they're merely trophy wives diminishes their individuality."
"Just because they have successful careers doesn't negate the potential of being used as accessories," I countered, locking eyes with Reid as he turned to face me. "It's not about undermining their achievements but acknowledging the potential for a specific dynamic in their relationships. We need to explore all possibilities, not just those that fit neatly into your rational worldview."
"Acknowledging possibilities is one thing, but chasing baseless theories is another," Reid retorted, his tone measured. "We can't afford to indulge in wild conjectures without solid evidence."
"Sometimes you're so buried in your 'facts' that you miss the human element of the cases," I remarked, chuckling dismissively as I shook my head to the side.
"It's called objectivity, (Y/LN)," he asserted, stepping closer until he stood before me, his hands slipping into his pockets in a gesture of dominance. "Something you might want to consider before letting personal biases cloud your judgment."
"I'm the one who lets personal biases cloud my judgment?!" I retorted, my voice rising as frustration bubbled up within me.
He remained silent for a moment, his expression unreadable.
"You've got to be kidding me," I continued, my tone escalating gradually. "You're the one who's been acting like a little bitch to me since I joined the team, so don't lecture me about taking things personally here."
Still, he said nothing, his hands now clenched into fists at his sides.
"You've had a problem with me from day one," I pressed on, "and it's about damn time you admit it instead of acting like such a child about it."
"This is about doing our job objectively," Reid retorted, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his voice. "Your presence doesn't change the standards we uphold in the BAU, but clearly you don’t meet them."
"That's enough!" Hotch's voice boomed, commanding attention as he intervened. His gaze shifted from Reid to me, a subtle warning in his eyes. "I think we should explore that possibility," he acknowledged, nodding towards my earlier suggestion. "It seems reasonable. Apart from that, are there any more leads we need to consider?"
Spencer turned on his feet, his movements purposeful as he approached the board. "Actually, I've been working on the geographical profile," he began "And it seems that, looking at the last victim’s place of abduction, he is moving in a straight line." With a marker in hand, he started drawing on the board, "Look at this: the first victim was last seen at the Lotus Casino Central, the second victim at the Charlaton, and now Rebecca at the Riverside. It's a straight line, which means..."
"He's heading for the Bellagio next," JJ chimed in, seamlessly connecting the dots of Spencer's thoughts. Spencer nodded in confirmation, acknowledging her insight.
Rossi rose from his seat and joined Spencer by the board. "Now that we know where he's likely to strike next, perhaps we can set up an operation to catch him; he’s been striking on poker nights."
Hotch leaned forward, his brow furrowed in concentration as he considered the strategy. After a moment of contemplation, he straightened up and cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the team. "Yes, an undercover op might be our next chance." His gaze fell on me, lingering for a moment as he addressed me directly. "Y/n," he began,"You have experience as an undercover agent, and you actually resemble the victims," he observed, "Would you mind going in?" The room fell silent as the weight of the proposition settled among us.
"Yeah… sure," I responded quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.
Derek immediately sensed my apprehension and offered reassurance with a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Hey, it's okay," he said softly. "You're not going in alone. It has to be a couple, so you'll have someone to have your back."
"Can you come with me?" I asked, my voice tinged with a mix of vulnerability and hope.
"Actually," Hotch interrupted, straightening in his chair, "I want Reid to go with you." My head fell into my hands as I sighed, dreading the complications that might arise. The weight of Hotch's decision settled heavily on my shoulders, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease at the thought of partnering with Reid for this undercover operation.
"Sir, with due respect," Spencer began, but Hotch raised his hand to stop him from continuing.
"(Y/N) needs a poker player husband; you’re the only one who could actually pass as an avid poker player," Hotch explained simply, as if it were that straightforward. "I trust you can both behave professionally and put your differences aside?" His tone sounded more like an order than a question.
"Let's get to work then," Rossi said, his tone decisive, as I let my head rest on the table. It dawned on me that this was the only option to ever catch this guy.
--x--
JJ pulled out all the strings, ensuring we had everything necessary to play our roles seamlessly. With meticulous attention to detail, she provided a stunning black dress that hugged my curves perfectly, matching pumps that elongated my legs, and exquisite jewelry that added a touch of elegance to the ensemble. Among the glittering gems, she placed an engagement ring and wedding band, enhancing the authenticity of our charade.
As I admired my reflection in the mirror, a wave of mixed emotions washed over me. The thought of spending the upcoming night with Spencer made my heart race, a strange feeling stirring within me.
My mind constantly drifted towards the way we were supposed to behave, thoughts swirling with anticipation. I imagined his touch, knowing that as a couple, he would have to be close, his hands possibly lingering on my body. How would it feel? Would I be able to maintain eye contact as he stared me down during our conversations?
I sighed heavily, the weight of the situation pressing down on me. Despite this being an undercover mission, it felt strangely intimate, as if I was gearing up for a date with him. The prospect of going out and spending time with Spencer was something I'd never experienced before, and it left me feeling nervous, even though I couldn't quite admit it to myself.
Maybe if things hadn't unfolded as they did, Spencer and I could've found common ground. Perhaps we could've forged a genuine connection, evolving into friends, or even something more meaningful. But fate had a different plan for us.
From the moment we crossed paths, our destinies seemed entwined in conflict rather than harmony, and I remember the day I met him all too well. We had just finished the tour, and Derek was now showing me to my desk.The ding of the elevator caught my attention, and there he stood. I've heard of Dr. Reid, everyone talked about him – his genius IQ of 187, his remarkable accomplishments at such a young age. But amidst all the praise for his intellect, no one ever mentioned how good-looking he actually was.
"Pretty boy," Derek exclaimed with a grin as he welcomed him. I couldn't help but agree silently. It was indeed a fitting nickname, Spencer was undeniably attractive. "Come meet our new member, Y/n Y/Ln."
With a smile I reached out my hand instinctively, ready to greet him, but to my surprise, he took a light step back. "Sorry, I don't shake hands," he said dismissively, his tone somewhat curt. "Did you know that the average person carries about 4,000 bacteria on their hands? It's a breeding ground for germs. It's actually safer to touch a toilet seat."
I stood there, utterly dumbfounded. Did he genuinely suggest that touching a toilet seat is cleaner than shaking my hand? "You really know how to make a girl feel special, Agent Reid," I retorted, rolling my eyes as Derek chuckled at the situation.
"It's Doctor, not Agent," he corrected, his tone matter-of-fact as he swiftly made his way to his desk. My mind raced, attempting to conjure a response, but he had already moved on, leaving me standing there, still processing what had just happend.
"Are you ready, or should I tell the unsub to wait because you need to keep fixing your lipstick?" a voice spoke from the darkness of my room.
“Jesus fucking Christ Reid, what the fuck is wrong with you?" I jumped from my place, surprised to see him standing there, leaning on the frame of my bathroom door. "No one ever taught you how to knock on a door?" I muttered under my breath.
"First of all, your door was unlocked, and second of all," he shook his head disapprovingly. "That's a very foul mouth you have, you should really watch your tongue," he chided. I felt his gaze lingering appreciatively on how the dress hugged my curves and accentuated my breasts.
From the corner of my eye, I lightly took in his appearance. The tailored suit fit him like a glove, different from what he wore every day. He looked more relaxed, better, hotter.
I was taken aback when I saw him move and enter the bathroom. My heart started racing as he stood by my side, exchanging a glance with me in the mirror.
"Honestly?I don't think he'd mind waiting for me” I straightened up, finally satisfied with my lipstick.
"Too bad he won't get to see it," he said, chuckling. His left hand met my hip, swiftly turning me around, and I gasped as the small of my back hit the bathroom counter. His own body caged me in, his intense gaze never leaving mine as I looked at him, confused yet strangely drawn to him. His right hand reached for a wipe, and he gently cleared any remnants of the red lipstick. I felt the cold, wet cloth on my lips, erasing any traces of the vivid stain. "If we're going to act like a couple, I don't want your lipstick all over me," Spencer remarked dryly, his expression unamused. "It's not my fault you don't know how to kiss a girl with lipstick, Doctor," I retorted, my annoyance evident in my tone.
"You look good enough," Spencer remarked with a smirk. "I'll be waiting for you in the car." With that, he turned and headed out, leaving me to gather my thoughts before joining him. "Well, this is going to be a long night," I sighed.
--x--
As Spencer drove us to the casino, we found ourselves going over the details of the plan. It was simple; our initial objective was to seamlessly integrate into the casino's scene, mirroring the couples we were emulating.
The plan dictated that Spencer and I had to project the image of a couple deeply in love, sharing glances, engaging in affectionate gestures, and creating an atmosphere that would draw the unsub's attention. Spencer would transition to the poker tables, just as the husbands of the previous victims had, all while showcasing his "trophy wife."
As the night progressed, I would strategically separate from Spencer to lure the unsub into action.
Inside the casino, Rossi and Morgan were playing their part as players, keeping an eye out. The rest of the team was in a van, ready to jump in if things went south.
The objective was clear – act like a couple. How hard could that be?
The tension in the car was palpable, and we exchanged glances, silently acknowledging the complexity of our roles. The success of the operation hinged on our ability to draw the unsub's attention, making him believe we were just another couple enjoying a night out.
The atmosphere in the casino buzzed with energy as Spencer and I entered. The dim lights, the soft murmur of conversations, and the distant chiming of slot machines created a captivating ambiance.
As we made our way to the bar, I reached for Spencer's hand and intertwined my fingers with his.
His eyebrows immediately shot up, a silent question evident in his expression as he glanced at me, perhaps surprised by the sudden display of affection.
"The more convincing we are, the more it'll attract the unsub's attention," I replied, my voice hushed but determined.
His gaze flickerd between our intertwined hands and my face. "Yeah," a small grin playing on his lips. "Just make sure you don't take it too far and end up falling for me."
"That's a good one, Dr. Reid," I chuckled softly, a hint of sarcasm lacing my words. "I'll try to contain myself."
We approached the bar, and Spencer took a seat on a stool. As I moved to stand by his side, he surprised me by pulling me closer, guiding me between his legs. His arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me snug against him. I was taken aback, but I didn't say a word. Acting like a couple—that was the plan. It was just all part of the plan.
"So what should I call you?" Spencer cut through our silence, his gaze focused on mine. "What should you call me?" I echoed, my voice filled with confusion as I furrowed my brows.
"I'm not going to address you by your real name," Spencer said matter-of-factly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "We need undercover names. So, what's it going to be?"
His eyes scanned my features, awaiting my response, while I took a moment to ponder. "How about pretty girl?" he proposed with a smirk, his gaze lingering on me. My expression must have betrayed my surprise, but before I could respond, he continued, "Or how about Angel?" The endearing term rolled off his tongue, and I felt a flutter in my chest at the sound.
"Angel seems to resonate with you," he teased, a chuckle escaping his lips, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he awaited my reaction. I felt the heat rising to my cheeks, rendering me momentarily speechless.
I closed my eyes, disbelief washing over me. Was this real? Was Spencer really saying these things to me? And during a mission, no less?
"You seem awfully quiet for someone who doesn't know how to shut the fuck up," he said, his lips brushing against the side of my neck. "If I'd known all I had to do was call you angel, I would've done it sooner."
"Sweet names will only get you so far," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. Despite the warmth spreading through me at his words, I couldn't shake off the sense of disbelief at the way he was acting. "Oh yeah?" Spencer asked, his tone amused, as I felt his breath tickling my neck before his lips brushed against my skin, leaving a small kiss on my pulse point. My breath caught in my throat, and my heart pounded in my chest as he slowly moved his hands along my waist and lower back. I couldn't focus on anything but the warmth of his body pressed against mine, sending shivers down my spine.
"Doctor Reid, this is highly inappropriate," I managed to utter.
“On the contrary, my sweet Angel," he spoke softly as his small kisses traveled up my neck. "See, this mission requires us to act like a couple, so I'm simply enjoying my time with my wife,” he lightly chuckled as he reached my jawline. “As you said, the more convincing we are, the more it'll attract the unsub's attention”
Suddenly, Hotch's voice disrupted the moment as he barked over the wire in my ear, "Guys, great job. We've got a male in his late 30s to early 40s staring at you; he's moved closer since you arrived. He could be our unsub."
I heard Hotch's words, but my brain struggled to process them as I was too focused on Spencer's eyes, his gaze fixed on mine while his hands lightly pressed me closer.
"Come on, Angel, let's give him a show," Spencer pleaded, his voice laced with a confidence that both shocked and intrigued me. It was unexpected to witness this side of him, but there was something undeniably exciting about it. Perhaps it was his confidence and assertiveness, or maybe it was the way he was taking control and leading the interaction. "Yeah.... let´s.... let´s do it" I lightly nodded my head, I swear he could feel the pounding of my heart against my chest from how close he stood to me.
His right hand reached my face, his touch gentle against my skin. "Angel," he spoke quietly against my lips, his voice barely a whisper. "I'll only keep going if you give me permission."
His eyes were dark, his lips plump, inviting, calling for my attention. I couldn't even form a "yes," but he knew what I wanted. I pulled him closer by his tie, and our lips collided in a hot, messy kiss. I was taken aback by his skill and technique, completely unable to resist him as the heat between us intensified.
Spencer pulled away and wrapped his arms around my body, embracing me in a hug. His warmth was comforting, and I felt a sense of security in his embrace. "He's standing right behind you, gray suit, red tie, black hair," he whispered in my ear, his voice low enough not to be noticed by anyone standing nearby. Suddenly, I was snapped back to reality. The mission. The unsub. He was standing right behind me
"Should we join them?" I asked softly, glancing over toward the tables of poker and motioning for Spencer to start playing, continuing with the plan. He was supposed to hit the games, and I needed to find a way to get myself alone.
"Absolutely, my love," Spencer said with a smile as he rose from his seat.
Still a little dazed from that kiss, my mind was on fire, and my panties were ruined. How was I supposed to continue my life after knowing the effect Spencer had on me? My racing thoughts were only interrupted by the sight of the suspect following us to the tables. Instinctively, my body reacted, and I found myself clinging to Spencer's arm, seeking comfort and reassurance in his presence.
As planned, Spencer sat down at the closest table and began playing, our actions subtly conveying intimacy to onlookers. I wrapped my arms around his neck, planting kisses occasionally, making it clear to everyone that I was his prize, and he was proudly showing me off as his trophy wife.
As he played, I showered him with praise and encouragement. "You're doing so well, baby," I whispered, my words laced with admiration. It was evident that he was enjoying the attention, his gameplay slightly faltering under the distraction of my praise. Despite being a skilled and experienced player, known for his prowess and banned from multiple casinos, he seemed momentarily thrown off his rhythm by my words of encouragement. It was a small victory, a slight advantage gained in my favour.
Feeling the need to draw the unsub away, I leaned in close to Spencer and murmured, "I'm going to step out for some fresh air on the balcony, honey. I'll be back soon."
Spencer nodded, his attention still on the cards. "Okay, sweetheart," he replied with a smile, not once lifting his gaze.
Before I turned to leave, I couldn't resist the urge to plant a quick kiss on his lips, just as part of the plan, playing my role as the devoted wife. After all, that's what a wife would do, right?
The fresh air hit my face, sending shivers down my arms. I didn't need to turn to know he had followed me outside; I could feel his presence on my right side. When I glanced over, he gestured to a drink in his hand, offering it to me. "You look like you could use a drink," he said.
My heart raced, and my breathing quickened as he got closer, but I kept a cool, confident attitude, determined not to let him see my nerves.
"(Y/N), don't drink that. It's laced," Morgan's urgent voice snapped through the wire, jolting me into alertness. "Just keep him talking so Garcia can check him."
My blood ran cold as I registered Morgan's warning. Without missing a beat, I forced a smile and nodded, "Thank you, handsome, but I've had enough tonight," I replied smoothly, declining the drink with a casual wave of my hand.
"That's a big rock on your finger," he pointed out, glancing at my, unknowingly, fake engagement ring. "Why are you here all alone? Where's your husband?" he continued, raising an eyebrow and asking the question directly, as if he didn't already know the answer.
"Well…" I laughed, injecting a flirtatious edge into my voice. "I could ask the same thing," I continued, "Where is Mrs…?"
"Mrs. Desmond? She stayed at home; she doesn't really like poker," he replied nonchalantly. "I'm Steve, by the way," he added, reaching out to shake my hand.
I shook his hand, my heart quickening as I heard Garcia speak from my wire: "Steve Desmond, a 39-year-old banker, is divorced; according to court files, his wife left him after he lost all of their money on poker.” The sound of clicking keyboards could be heard in the background. "The divorce dates coincide with the killings,” Garcia added.
“That sounds like a trigger,” Hotch's voice chimed in.
"Holy moly, he also assaulted a prostitute a couple of years ago, but the charges were dropped and he was never convicted," Garcia spoke nervously.
"That's our guy, (Y/N). Keep him talking; we're on our way,” Hotch said, his voice steady and authoritative.
"Is everything okay?" Steve spoke, his tone taking on a hint of aggression as he grabbed my attention. "Maybe you should take that drink."
“I'm not thirsty, thanks,” I replied firmly, stepping back in an attempt to keep my distance. However, he refused, reaching out and gripping my arm to keep me from moving.
"I'm telling you," he said angrily, his grip tightening. "You're clearly nervous. Just a tiny sip won't hurt." I tried to break free of his grasp, but he was stronger than me and refused to let go
"FBI!" Suddenly, I saw Spencer coming up behind him, his fist connecting with the guy's face with a solid punch, knocking him back into the wall. He was strong and quick; the unsub didn't stand a chance against him. Spencer swiftly pulled out his handcuffs, cuffing him without even breaking a sweat.
"Steve Desmond, you're under arrest for the killings of Amanda Crane, Juliet Sand, and Rebecca Miller,” Spencer announced, his voice firm and authoritative.
Morgan and Rossi soon appeared, Morgan helping the unsub up from the ground and carrying him out as he spoke, "Steve Desmond, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to talk to an attorney for advice before we ask you any questions. You have the right to have an attorney present during questioning. If you cannot afford it…” His voice faded as they left, escorting the suspect away from the scene.
Once they were out of sight, Spencer came up to me and reached for my arm, his expression filled with concern. I winced as he touched the red marks left behind by the unsub's grip.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice full of concern and care, his eyes searching mine for any sign of distress.
"Um, yeah…" I replied softly, my voice shaky. "I just need a moment to process this." My heart was still racing from the encounter, and I needed a moment to collect myself. Why did he step in like that? I thought to myself, a mixture of gratitude and confusion washed over me. I could've handled the situation on my own—I was trained for this, after all. Yet, there he was, interfering in my work.
After the quiet ride back to the motel, Spencer led me to the door of my room. As we stood there, I realized I could no longer contain the annoyance for how he had handled the situation. The tension of the evening had been building inside me, and I needed to let it out. "Spencer," I began, my voice tinged with frustration. "I appreciate that you were trying to help, but I had it under control. I didn't need you to intervene so quickly," the frustration bubbled inside me, I couldn't help but wonder why Spencer felt the need to intervene. I felt like I had done a great job handling the situation, and his actions made me feel as though he had robbed me of an opportunity to take down the unsub myself.
Spencer's eyes widened in shock as he opened his mouth to speak. "Oh, really?" he said incredulously. "I didn't realize you had everything under control. I just figured that the guy having his hands all over you and aggressively grabbing your arm was cause for concern. But clearly, you didn't need any help."
"Oh, right, because clearly, I was in so much danger," I snapped sarcastically.
"I'm not going to sit around and watch some creepy-as-hell psychopath put his hands all over you," Spencer said firmly, shaking his head in disbelief. His brows furrowed in concern, his eyes reflecting a mix of frustration and genuine worry. "I won't let him put you at risk of being hurt … or worse." His tone was sharp "Get it through your head; I'm not going to let that happen."
"Oh, right, I wasn't aware this situation called for a 'white knight' to swoop in and save me from myself," I retorted, my tone laced with bitterness. Crossing my arms defensively, I met his gaze head-on. "Since when did my safety become your problem?"
"Since the moment we met, you stubborn brat," Spencer snapped back, his frustration evident in his tone.
"Since the moment we met? That's so much bullshit," I shot back, my voice rising with indignation. "Since when did you care about my safety so much?" I challenged him, my eyes narrowing in disbelief. "You've never shown me any compassion before, so why now? Hun?"
And then, suddenly, his lips crashed against mine, his body pressing mine firmly against the door with a resounding thud. I felt the heat of his body press on mine, the tension that had been building between us explode in an instant.
His kiss was messy and sloppy, but damn, it was hot. There was an urgency in the way our lips crashed together, fueled by a raw desire that couldn't be tamed. As the kiss deepened, the air grew thin, and I felt myself getting breathless. With a gasp, I had to pull away,
“What the fuck was that about?” I whispered, not being able to back away from his hold.
"When I kissed you at the casino, I finally understood," he muttered, his forehead resting against mine. "All this animosity, the bickering... we don't actually hate each other; we want each other.” He stared into my eyes before continuing, “I don't think I can go another day without tasting you."
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yanderenightmare · 3 months
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(FEMxM) INSERT MASTERLIST
Fem reader x male insert
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Yandere kidnapper takes your virginty:
VIRGINITY ♡6.6k
Simpy boyfriend is unabashedly obsessed with your ass:
ASS ♡6.4k
Yandere captor has too much libido:
REMINDER ♡6.1k
Step-bro creeps on you:
CREEP STEP-BRO ♡5.2k
Thirsty thoughts on big yanderes x tiny darlings:
GENTLE GIANT ♡4.7k
Pet collector buys bunny reader:
BOUGHT & SOLD ♡2.5k
THE OTHER PETS ♡3.9k
Beast boyfriend x human reader:
INSTINCTS ♡3.2k
Yandere kidnapper softly nonconning darling:
soft noncon ♡3.1k
Snugglebug boyfriends who're just so clingy and hopeless:
VIRGINAL ♡3k
Step-daddy puts you in your place:
TRAINING ♡2.8k
Sweet boyfriend won't stop talking about anal:
SECOND VIRGINITY ♡2.7k
Poly wolfboys x bunny reader:
BUNNYHOLES ♡2.7k
GROOMING ♡1.9k
Boss uses his assistant whenever he wants and however he wants:
BOSS ♡2.6k
Your strict teacher fucks your throat raw in detention:
DETENTION ♡2.4k
Massive warrior claims you as his war prize:
WAR PRIZE ♡2.2k
Yandere captor using you as his pretty rope-bunny:
ROPE-BUNNY ♡2k
Orc master loves making a cum-slut out of his pretty elf slave:
ORC x ELF ♡1.9k
ORC x ELF ♡1k
Yandere kidnapper is a sexual sadist:
RIBBED CONDOMS ♡1.8k
You become the spoiled prince's personal maid:
FARM ANIMAL ♡1.8k
You're a popular airhead, and he's your loser tutor:
BLIND TRUST ♡1.7k
Condescending boyfriend:
HOPELESS ♡1.7k
Spending Valentine's Day with your incel kidnapper:
HAPPY VALENTINES ♡1.7k
Yanderes who's obsessed with breeding:
FORCED BREEDING ♡1.7k
Businessman x trophy wife:
TASTE OF MONEY ♡1.7k
Colleague crushing on reader in office au:
CUT TO THE CHASE ♡1.5k
Reader owes the mob:
PROPERTY ♡1.4k
Yandere captor staking claim to all your holes:
STUFFED ♡1.4k
You let your bully fuck you in exchange for him leaving you alone:
WORSE OFF ♡1.3k
Misogynist boyfriend keeps you captive:
A SHITTY MOVIE ♡1.1k
When the playboy finally falls in love:
PLAYBOY ♡1.1k
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(GNxM) INSERT MASTERLIST
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gremlingottoosilly · 7 months
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🎀𝔾𝕣𝕖𝕞𝕝𝕚𝕟'𝕤 𝕞𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥🎀
Hi! I'm Gremlin, I write COD stuff and adore Konig. Mostly write on AO3, but some fics are posted here. I write yandere/perverted/dark stuff mostly, so please be advised. The tamest of my fics are dealing with perversion and romanticized possessive behavior, and the worst ones are straight up kidnapping and torturing. Ask me anything!! I don't deal with extreme degradation, humiliation, piss/scat, hurt/no comfort, but I am fine with dub-con/soft non-con, yandere, kidnapping, perverted behavior etc. I won't write for Nikto, Nikolay or Makarov. I also don't write anything related to the death of the major characters, angst and hurt/no comfort. Shoot me a DM!
My AO3 My ko-fi My TikTok(if needed)
𝒦𝑜𝓃𝒾𝑔 𝓍 𝒻𝑒𝓂!𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇
【One shots】 Moo business (monster!Konig x CowHybrid!fem!Reader) Cleaning services (perv!Konig x fem!cleaner!Reader) A bomb threat (And how it got you a boyfriend) special forces!Konig x fem!college!Reader 1295 kilometers (Konig x fem!Reader, a train ride) Also on AO3!
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【Series】
Cabin in the woods (yan!Konig x fem!Reader x yan!Horangi) Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 (updated) Also on AO3!
If you need to be mean (husband!yandere!Konig x wife!fem!Reader) [Konig hates his new promotion. Being a colonel only makes him more miserable while forcing to constantly communicate with people below and above his rank. However, meeting a cute civilian on his latest deployment makes his life a bit sweeter.]
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The Horror and The Wild (yan!Emperor!Konig x fem!Reader) You had a nice, simple life. Serve the princess, obey the princess, protect the princess with your life. You never thought that this nice, simple life would bring you to be kidnapped by the infamous Northern Emperor. Konig never thought that kidnapping a wife would be much easier than courting one. Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5
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Lovefool (yandere!kidnapper!Konig x fem!Reader) [Konig got himself a little trophy from the battlefield.]
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Drinking song for socially anxious (monster!Konig x MonsterCaretaker!Reader) [People learned to live alongside monsters. Hybrids are better soldiers and warriors, but they have problems controlling themselves on the battlefield. This is where you came from, as the newest caretaker of a weirdly quiet percht hybrid who seems to never talk to anyone.
You are eager to take care of him, though.]
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The Horror and the Wild (emperor!Konig x fem!Reader) Fantasy/Medieval AU
[You had a nice, simple life. Serve the princess, obey the princess, protect the princess with your life. You never thought that this nice, simple life would bring you to be kidnapped by the infamous Northern Emperor.
Konig never thought that kidnapping a wife would be much easier than courting one.]
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GHOST X READER Your Ride will be here shortly(poly!yan!141 x fem!Reader) Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
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red-pill-to-swallow · 8 months
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Introduction
Hey babes,
welcome to my blog!
I’ve been lurking on hypergamyblr and leveling up blogs since forever and the advice I got from there actually helped me to achieve some of my goals.
A few weeks ago I stumbled upon a subreddit called “RedPillWomen”, and it was eye opening. Don’t get me wrong – I don’t necessarily support every theory on there but right now it just makes sense for me and my lifestyle.
But let me tell you something about myself, so you get an idea:
I am a white woman in my early twenties
I have a finished degree
I live in Europe
I am in a longterm relationship with my man (+3 years)
We live together in our own apartment
My man is very succesful and has his own company
I love to cook and to bake but I don’t really like cleaning
I am a homemaker and a spoiled girlfriend (can you be both?)
I am happy and content with my life but I want more. I promise you, that I’ll always tell the truth on my blog and the truth is, that the relationship with my man isn’t the best right now.
We’re not constantly fighting and there is no toxicity or jealousy in the relationship but it is lacking affection, gratitude, sexual attraction and date nights.
Sometimes it just feels as if I’m living with my platonic best friend which isn’t bad at all but I want to bring this sparkle back into our relationship.
I am a firm believer that every relationship needs work. It’s never like in the books or movies, where everything just comes together and somehow works out for decades. It’s hard work.
I also understand if someone would rather break up with their partner than try to fix the relationship, there is no shame in doing so. Especially if there is any sort of abuse, toxicity or lack of attraction to the partner involved.
However, that’s not how it is in my relationship. I still think my man is hot, he never was abusive or nonsupporting to me. Never.
Besides that – he is financially stable, he has goals he wants to achieve and he works hard to provide for us. It would be dumb as hell if I would break things off with him, just because I don’t feel “the” spark right now.
Yes, maybe I would have more fun with another man, who is not working as much and has more free-time – but I have to think about my future and my goals. I have to think about my life in 30+ years.
I know what I want from my life and I know that if I’m staying with my man this life could come true!
What I want from life:
I want a soft life without worrying about being able to pay the bills
I want to be a homemaker
I want children and I don’t want to worry about being able to afford them
I want my children to be able to experience everything they want. No, I don’t mean spoiling them rotten with materialistic things, more like being able to finance them an exchange year in another country or attending a boarding school – if they want to do so. I also want them to be able to pick their hobbies freely, without worrying about money.
I want a stable relationship without drama
I want to be able to buy the clothes that I want
I want to be able to do all the beauty treatments that I want (maybe shallow but it is what it is)
I want to have the house where everyone feels safe and welcome
I know that I have the right foundation to achieve all of those goals, I just have to work hard for them.
It’s going to be quite a journey but I’m very excited about it. I will start to apply Red Pill theories to my life immediately and see where this is going.
I hope to meet some mutuals through this blog – so please comment if you are one, so I can follow your blog!
See you soon!
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skipper1331 · 22 days
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Secret (2) // Alexia Putellas
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| Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4 |
She didn‘t try to follow you.
She didn‘t try to text or call you.
She didn‘t try to fight for you.
She let you.
She let you walk through that door.
She let you go.
They say that you only really appreciate something when it is no longer there - she understood that now. It never occurred to her how terrible it must have been for you to be her "secret," even if she never wanted it that way.
Plagued by the fear of what others would think or what would happen, she dreamed of a love without worries and anxiety; in her eyes, this love only happened behind closed doors. She didn't realize how bad it actually was for you, even though she knew exactly that you wanted a typical romance book love story. She didn't deserve you and even less deserved that you had put up with her in secret for so long.
You, on the other hand, were caught up in your anger. You had put up with this secrecy for over a year, but a limit had been crossed - your heart ached just in her presence.
She had managed to nestle herself in your heart with her charming smile, her sparkling eyes and her elegant but captivating nature. She was Alexia Putellas, of course she had done it. She could do anything when she set her mind to. She had won the Ballon D‘or twice, the World Cup and dozens of other trophies and titles - only the title of calling you her wife, she hadn't managed.
In the nights where she couldn‘t sleep, she had dreamed of marrying you - you were different. Any feelings she knew before no longer existed. It was only you.
And you were no longer hers.
-
After your break up with the Catalonian, your motivation started to rise again as the weight you had been carrying in your heart and on your shoulders wasn‘t there anymore. You went out with your friends, explored the city a bit more and focused on yourself. You deserved to be happy and you knew that. You treated yourself with new shoes (shoes you had been eyeing for awhile) and finally an own Netflix account.
In training, you went to your absolute limits, playing wonderfully and yet having fun - the love to the sport filled your veins again.
You were glowing - the new look suited you.
But when you were at home, it was different. Two people met at the doorstep. Person 1 who glowed and person 2 who sulked. As soon as the threshold was crossed, personality 2 took over your body, mind and soul. Your broken heart showed itself. You hadn't managed to remove the second toothbrush in your bathroom or empty Alexia’s drawer yet. Her clothes were yours too, you wore them as soon as personality 2 needed the comfort which was needed constantly.
You cried.
You screamed into your pillow.
You ate ice cream, chocolate, anything.
Watched sad shows and movies.
And cried more.
Nobody seemed to notice your switch of personality - who should?
No one knew that you and Alexia used to be a couple..
No one knew that your heart was broken..
I‘m capable of handling that on my own.
I‘m an independent woman.
..except one person: Alba.
unknown
hey, it‘s Alba.
Ale told me what happened.
If you need someone to talk to (a friend), feel free to message me:)
You appreciated that she sent you a message, her intention probably kindhearted but she was Alexia‘s sister after all.
You replied with 'thank you' and sort of an appreciation.
Time would heal your wounds. Hopefully.
In the nexts weeks, you focused on the upcoming uwcl matches and getting enough recovery after your training sessions.
You like to think that you didn‘t even look at Alexia but you knew better than that. She‘s Alexia and breathtaking, you could not not look at her.
But you tried your hardest not to give in when she looked at you, looking at you with those sad doe eyes. Sometimes it seemed like she wanted to approach you or even say something yet she never did, she stayed silent.
Was it wrong to hope for her approach? That she would just kiss you in the middle of the pitch?
Maybe it was wrong but you couldn’t help it. You loved her and you knew she loved you too. And love, no matter how much you want it sometimes, doesn't just disappear. It always leaves its mark.
Added to that, Alexia wasn‘t just anybody - she was the first person with whom you truly felt the butterflies and every cheesy book describing feeling.
She could have been your greatest love story - the love story you always wished for.
-
"Good luck" Alexia said, her hand brushing against yours as she walked past you.
She smiled a bit, immediately looking away, joining Aitana and Keira.
"Good luck" you whispered back, surprised that she had spoken to you, nonetheless kindly accepting that she did.
The first leg against Chelsea went alright, Aitana opened the score as you made it 2-0, 5 minutes before the ref blew her whistle.
You shook hands with each opponent and talking to your friends for a bit.
"Oh please, I’m your biggest fan, swap your jersey with me" the dramatic voice of Niamh Charles shrilled through the conversation you were having with Guro and Erin. You laughed, Niamh‘s arm around your shoulder, "oh please, please" she fake cried, the girl nothing but laughter in her voice.
"Aren‘t the dozens of my jersey enough?" you joined, laughing.
It was an unspoken rule whenever Niamh and you faced each other to swap jerseys as the two of you had met in the u-teams, becoming friends in an instant and being close friends ever since.
"Nah, babe, you know I can never get enough of you" she rolled her eyes, pressing a sloppy kiss to cheek.
Disgusted, you wiped it off and shoved her away.
Alexia watched the scene in front of her with fire in her eyes, oh how she hated Niamh - the green eyed monster talking.
"Jealous?" the soft voice of Ingrid pulled her back to reality.
"¿Que? No! I’m not jealous" Alexia’s accent was thick, her voice raspy and mind completely somewhere else.
"You should ask her out, I think she likes you" the Norse proposed, tapping the Catalonians shoulder as she walked to Frido, leaving the captain alone.
Ale had always suspected that Fridolina and Ingrid knew about the two of you because they were your best friends, but that wasn't the case. Alexia realized that only now since Ingrid had suggested asking you out - you had always been honest and respectful with her wishes - accepting them, even though they broke your heart day by day.
No one knew that you were more than just teammates.
They were clueless.
You were amazing.
And she was stupid - stupid to think that you would tell anyone when you hadn't even told your best friends and stupid for letting you go.
-
The second leg ended up in 2-1, 4-1 on average which meant that Barcelona would play in the Champions League final.
You were thrilled when the ref blew his whistle, so happy about the fact that you had the chance to win the trophy.
On the other hand, you felt bad for the Chelsea players, they had given everything as they tried their best to win. Unfortunately for them, it wasn‘t enough. You approached Niamh who had tears in her eyes, pulling her in a hug. You comforted her the best you could but loosing an important match would sting for awhile, no matter how much you praised the defender for her game.
"You know, I will burn your jersey at home" the defender chuckled, nonetheless taking her jersey off while you did the same - swap.
"That‘s only fair" you grinned, wearing now the blue shirt.
Once again, Alexia glared at Niamh, hating the fact that you were wearing 'Charles 21' on the back instead of 'Alexia 11' or 'Putellas and your number' but she knew it was her own fault.
If she had just listened to you or introduced you as her girlfriend with such pride right from the start then she wouldn't be in the situation of a broken heart and jealousy.
She loved you and was forever sorry for hiding and neglecting you.
You deserved better than that, way better.
-
Winning the champions league felt euphoric.
The final match had been intense, both sides fighting for goals as the ref showed many yellows cards.
But Barcelona did it, they had done the unthinkable - beating Lyon and taking their revenge.
It didn‘t matter that the score was only 1-0. That one goal meant more than anything to everybody of the team. You felt so much pride and joy, the stadium chanting while you received your medals and lifting the trophy.
You wanted to cherish this moment forever.
"I‘m proud of you" la reina stated as she stood next to you. You didn’t even notice that she had approached you.
"Thank you, Ale, it means a lot" you smiled at the midfielder. Your smile was so genuine and wide, your eyes sparkly and shiny - you looked so beautiful, in Alexia’s eyes.
She couldn’t help but kiss your forehead.
You let her.
Her lips lingered for a moment, pulling back with rosy cheeks before she walked to her mother and sister who were waiting in the stands.
Your eyes followed the Catalonian, her mother hugging her tightly while Alba looked in the direction Ale came from - she saw you and waved.
-
Back in Barcelona, the team + family/ friends went out to celebrate. Drinks were getting drowned, songs were being yelled and dance moves were being showed. The vibe and mood was amazing, everybody letting loose after the last few intense weeks.
You couldn’t remember how many drinks you‘ve had but it was a good amount - each of them delicious.
Making your way over to the bar, you ordered yet another drink. You wouldn’t say you were drunk per se but you also weren’t sober anymore.
Nobody was, or cared.
You won the champions league, you were allowed to party.
While you waited for your drink, a familiar unfamiliar voice talked to you, "hola"
you turned to the side, seeing the younger Putellas standing next to you.
"hi" you replied.
"Congratulations! Your goal was amazing" she beamed while you smiled and mumbled a thanks. "my sister can be an ass, you know? Oh yeah, you do." she giggled at her own joke - she clearly wasn‘t sober either, "but she loves you. She‘s been sulking for weeks."
You tried to listen the best you could, questioning if you would remember the conversation in the morning.
"She even told mamá about you and how she fucked things up"
You gasped, "no way! She talked about me? I‘m so shocked"
The sister laughed, playfully hitting your chest as you joined her laughter - eyes watching the two of you.
"You should make her jealous"
"Yeah, sure" you replied, rolling your eyes, "as if Ale‘s jealous"
"More than you think. She doesn’t like your friend Charles, for example. 'she should wear my name' blah blah blah" Alba explained, your mind spinning for several reasons.
"How should I make her jealous then?"
"Easy. Follow me" the girl grabbed your arm, pulling you on the dance floor, "hey! my drink" you grumbled, the Putellas sister ignoring you.
She turned around, looping her arms around your waist as yours went around her neck. You followed Alba‘s lead, Shakira blasting through the speakers. Looking around, you searched for Alexia. It didn‘t take long to find those pretty eyes who looked nothing but angry. Her jaw was clenched, hands balled into fists as she shifted uncomfortably around.
She was not enjoying the show.
"Bet she‘ll be here in 3…" Alba leaned in, "2…." as you did the same, "1…"
Strong hands on your hips pulled you away, a protective arm smacking around your waist, Alexia glaring at her sister - so much fire in her eyes, "you‘re allowed to look but do not touch what’s mine" she growled, "now leave" her voice was stern and firm. Your ex girlfriend stood now in front of you, looking at you, checking you out while Alba walked away, winking at you.
"You look nice" the girl smiled charmingly, the green eyed monster completely gone.
"What was that?!"
"I said you looked-"
"No. Do not touch what’s mine?!" you mocked, your heart secretly racing at her possessiveness.
"I won‘t let her kiss you!" her voice was raised, jealousy pumping through her veins again, "I‘m the only one who will do so" the thought of you ever touching, kissing, loving someone else made Alexia furios.
She loved you.
"Do you understand me?"
The alcohol in Ale‘s system made her bold, confident and possessive - she didn‘t care who was watching or listening. All she cared about was you.
You had never seen her like that before - openly jealous, with her hands on your hips and chests touching in public - it was hot. She was hot.
"Yes, I do" you replied, somehow starstruck.
"Good girl"
You died on the spot.
Was it hot in here? It definitively was! Or was it just Alexia?
It was just Alexia.
Your knees went weak, your heart was racing and skin on fire.
In a crowded bar, surrounded by family, friends and colleagues she smashed her lips against yours. You responded as eagerly while she tried to pull you impossibly closer - oh, how she had missed you and your kisses.
This kiss wasn‘t like the ones you shared before, it was pure need.
"Let‘s go" the midfielder mumbled, trying to catch her breath, the same as you did. She waited for a respond - your consent - before she left.
With you.
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mellowsadistic · 2 months
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"What am I wearing?!" Tracy shrieked, getting up on her knees and goggling at the disposable diaper strapped tightly around her waist. Her head felt funny. Why was she in bed? The last thing she remembered was Sabrina, her stepdaughter-to-be, giving her something to drink, and then...
"Ah, you're awake!" came a young woman's voice. "Did you enjoy your little nap, Tracy?"
Tracy looked up to see Sabrina standing over her, a mocking smile on her face. "Sabrina?" She still felt a little confused and disoriented, but she didn't like the expression on the girl's face at all. "What's going on?" she demanded. "What did you..." She thought back to that moment in the kitchen, when Sabrina had unexpectedly offered to make her morning coffee. "Did you drug me?!" she screeched. "And why did you put me in a fucking diaper?"
Sabrina's smile widened. "If my Dad wants to get remarried, fine," she said matter-of-factly. "But it's not going to be to some vapid bimbo who's only after his wallet."
Tracy flushed. So what if she was only after Sabrina's father for his money? He was in his sixties or something. If he wanted a hot young trophy wife, what was wrong with that? And if she ended up divorcing him after a year or so and taking half of his fortune, it would be his own stupid fault for being so naïve.
"Unfortunately," said Sabrina, "Dad's been totally taken in by your seductive little schemes, so it's up to me to protect him." Her eyes glittered dangerously. "It's up to me to make sure he'll never be attracted to you again."
"What are you..." But Tracy suddenly gasped, a manicured hand flying to her mouth, as she felt a tiny trickle of pee leak into her Pampers. She tried to clamp down on the flow, but nothing happened. The trickle stopped after only a few seconds, but it was enough to make the padding between her legs feel disgustingly warm and wet, and more to the point, it had been completely out of her control. “What did you do to me?!" she squealed, repulsed by the sensation of piss soaking into her pants and pressing against her pussy.
"You really are stupid, aren't you?" Sabrina laughed. "Isn't it obvious, you dumb whore? I made you incontinent. Or is that word too big and complicated for you? Would it be easier to understand if I told you that you'll never use the little girl's room again?"
Tracy stared at her, open-mouthed, too stunned and horrified to speak. She couldn’t be incontinent. She couldn’t be. It wasn't possible to just take someone's control away!
"I added a special ingredient to your latte this morning," Sabrina explained, as if reading her mind. "A little something I found online. A few drops are enough to cause total and permanent incontinence, though I promise you it's quite untraceable, so don't bother running to the police to whine about how your boyfriend's meanie daughter stole your potty training. I made sure not to leave any evidence, and you'll just sound crazy."
Tracy felt as though she'd been doused in icy water. If Sabrina was telling the truth, if she really was incontinent, then she'd never be able to seduce a man again! Her stomach rolled as she imagined trying to persuade Sabrina's father to buy her a new pair of shoes, clutching his arm and rubbing her breasts against his chest, only to feel her diaper drooping between her legs as she pooped in it without warning. She'd be a joke!
Sabrina was smirking. "Are you getting it now, you gold-digging trollop? Your homewrecking days are over. Men aren't going to look twice at you when they find out about your little potty-pants problem. The kind of guys you're after want a hot piece of ass, not a diapered one, and without your sex appeal you're nothing but an overgrown brat. But you should know, there are men out there who are into girls that need diapers. Maybe you could find one of them to look after you? Of course, it wouldn't be the kind of glamorous lifestyle you'd hoped for... It would be a life of spankings, early bedtimes, messy highchair feedings, and begging your Daddy for diapie changes. But hey, at least you wouldn't have to work!"
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i-cant-sing · 6 months
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I'm not sure what I want to write about but I have this very overwhelmingly strong urge to write about Platonic Yandere Gojo Saturo x teen/adult reader. And not like just light fluff, I'm talking about unhinged yandere Gojo- the one from the latest panels where he was fighting with Sukuna- that Gojo.
Like that Gojo just radiates "buffed up cool dad finally puts his foot down and is now actually low key scary".
Hmm, I mean I could see unhinged Shibuya arc Gojo just going absolutely feral as he drags you away from Toji (your dad) and begins to actively kill him, no matter how much you beg and grovel to spare your father's life. How you can't bare to see your dad taken from you again.
But Gojo? Nah, he doesn't care. He was serious when he took you in (kidnapped u from Naoya/Zenin Clan) and told u that he'll be the father you need.
And he doesn't even have any qualms about knocking you out either, he doesn't need u interfering mid battle and getting injured in the process. He might even hand u over to Yuta and others and cheerfully threaten them to keep you safe while he obliterates Toji, because yes Gojo is 100000% jealous of Toji and you bonding/being closer to each other than u are with Gojo. How fucing dare you??? Does he need to do the speech again?
"Through heavens and earth, I alone am tge honored one" or whatever 🙄🙄🙄
OR OR OR
Listen to me- Romantic yandere UNHINGED Gojo with reader who'd been selected by his clan, trained and raised by them for you to be Gojo's bride. Obviously, growing up Gojo was like "yeahhh, you're not good enough for me" and well treated her like absolute trash (he insulted her) which them lead the clan to be even more harsh on you because why the hell are you still not able to seduce Gojo????? So, basically poor reader is just being absolutely miserable throughout her life until one day the Gojo Clan is finally like "Alright, we gave it our best and Saturo still doesn't like u, so you can work as a maid in our house" and like instantaneously her life turns much better now that she doesn't have the pressure to be the trophy wife/heir producer for Gojo, and reader now can even leave the house to run errands.
But then Gojo notices that there is one less person who was constantly fawning over him, vying for his attention, and he's trying to figure it out who it is when he realises its you! And when he asks his clan about you, they tell him that they demoted u to a servant instead of future Mrs Gojo and Saturo is like "hm. Okay." And it doesn't exactly hit him how much this affected him until he saw you giggling away with some man.
He doesn't react immeadiately, still treating you like you're just nonexistent to him, but deep down, it eats him up the way you were touching that man's arm, the way you looked at him like he hung the stars for you.
Why tf weren't you like this with him?
Whatever. You're just... so beneath him. Why even bother thinking about you?
And then Shibuya arc happens. This man gets trapped in the prison realm and most of his thoughts are occupied by you, and how after be defeats Sukuna and the gang, he's gonna date you and you'll be touching his arm, looking at him with goo goo eyes.
Except when he comes out, for whatever fucking reason, you're fucking clinging onto some guys shoulders, acting like you're a damsel in distress, and if things weren't worse before, they certainly were when you kissed the man in front of him (okay but like u didn't know Gojo was watching u two. Like you were with your man in alley, kissing and hugging each ither lovingly after just barely escaping death from curses and then mf Gojo is just hovering in the sky above you)
Of course, now it's instantaneous death for your man, and then Gojo is just dragging you screaming and crying, and you're like "WHY? WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME??" And Gojo very cheerfully tells you, as if he still wasn't covered in blood from your man-
"I don't want my wife-to-be cheating on me."
Like whoa! Where tf did that came from???? And you're all like "What are u talking about??? Your clan ended our relationship- if you could even call it that?? Besides, you're the one who always said that we're not compatible because I'm beneath you."
And Gojo doesn't even bat an eye, as he goes "doesn't matter. You were born for me. You were made for me to marry, play with, discard, do as I please. So don't you ever even look at another man again, or I will be the one to rip your eyes out." And you know that he's capable of doing that after u just witnessed the live demonstration of your man being murdered.
Anyways, jealous Gojo, be it romantic or platonic, is dangerous unhinged Gojo.
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Look at him, the tiny waist, the Toji Fushiguro fit.
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greynatomy · 6 months
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secrecy
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lucy bronze x reader
thanks for the request!
———
Keira, Leah and Georgia have know Lucy Bronze for years. They would always be around each other whenever they had their international duties. They aren’t called the ‘three best friends and Lucy’ for nothing.
However, the three have been noticing some changes in their friend’s behavior. For the past two years, Lucy has become more secretive. She would also lie a lot more to them, something she hasn’t really done before.
They didn’t think much of it until the past couple of months. Lucy’s been canceling on plans more often than not. She would leave right after training ends, not even showering at the facilities. Most importantly, she would have some secret phone calls, making sure to be away from prying ears.
The three best friends wanted to do their own little investigation, wanting to figure out what was happening to their friend and what she was hiding. Yes, it’s a bit of an invasion of her privacy, but they knew Lucy wasn’t going to be telling them anytime soon.
The Lionesses had just finished up a training session, moving into the recovery room for an ice bath. The four friends were in the bath together when a ring of a phone interrupts their conversation. Lucy, knowing it was her phone, grabbed it, seeing the name on the screen and excuses herself to take the call.
Answering the video call, Lucy is met by a face so close to the screen.
“Hi, Paisley.”
“Mama!”
Lucy makes it to her room, a room she isn’t sharing with any of her teammates, getting comfortable at the chair in the corner of the room.
“Did you take Mommy’s phone again?”
“Yeah! Wanted to call Mama. Miss you.”
“I miss you too. Where’s Mommy, bubs?”
“She-um-she watching Potter. Again.”
“Mommy loves Harry Potter. Can you give the phone to Mommy? Mama wants to talk to her.”
“Kay!”
Paisley runs over to the living room where you’re sat, watching a movie.
“Mommy! Mama talk.”
“Mama?” The phone gets shoved into your face where you see the very attractive face of your wife. “Hey, sexy.”
“Hi, beautiful. How are you?”
“Doin’ okay. Pretty uneventful day. How was training?”
“Training is training. I’ve just got done with recovery and gotta take a shower.”
“Ooh, take me with you.” You say with a smirk.
“Down, girl. Keep those pants on.”
“It’s all the hormones talking and it’s all your fault.”
Meanwhile, in the recovery room, Leah, Georgia and Keira all look at each other with a knowing look.
“She never used to leave when taking calls before.”
“Yeah, that’s weird.”
The three quickly got showered and dressed, making their way to their friend’s room, Keira knocking on the door.
The door opened to a freshly showered Lucy.
“Hey, guys. What’s up?”
“Oh, nothing. Just wanted to see where you went off to.” Georgia answers.
“Um, okay. Well, it’s nearly dinner, so I was just waiting until we can go.”
“Hmm, okay.”
Lucy is confused by the three’s behavior, but thinks nothing of it.
———
It was now the day of the Women’s Finalissima against Brazil. You were in the friends and family section with Paisley, sat on the seats.
In the twenty-third minute, Ella Toone gets a goal in from an assist by your wife. Paisley jumping up and down from her seat. That was the only goal until halftime.
The second half started, many substitutions and a couple of yellow cards being given out. In the three minute of added time, Brazil got a goal in, disappointing the England team and fans.
Eventually, the match went into penalties. Everyone was on the edge of their seat. England winning 4-2.
“Mama won, Mommy!”
“She did, baby!”
Once the England players got their medals and trophy, friends and family were allowed onto the pitch. It took a while to get down and see where Lucy was, but once Paisley did, she ran straight to her, running into her legs.
The three best friends and Lucy were all celebrating together, hugging and dancing when a force almost knocks Lucy off her feet.
“Paisley!” Lucy grabs her daughter, throws her up in the air and catches her, leaving her on her hip.
“Mama, you did it! You got a trophy!”
“I did! I’ve also got a medal, see.” She lifts the medal, Paisley inspects it.
“Wait!” The mother and daughter are broken from their bubble by Georgia. “Is this why you’ve been so secretive? You’ve got a kid?”
Before Lucy could answer, you finally made your way to her, giving her a kiss.
“Now, who’s this?” Keira asks.
The three best friends were now in shock, mouths wide open.
“Oh, well. Guys, meet my daughter my Paisley and my wife Y/N.”
“You have kept a whole family a secret.” Leah states, a bit hurt, same were the other two.
“Sorry ‘bout that. We’ve just loved our little bubble, especially since it’s gonna get bigger soon.” She places a hand on your stomach.
Leah, Georgia and Keira finally notice your bump, jaw dropping to the floor.
“It’s nice to meet you three. Lucy loves to talk about you guys and all the shenanigans you go through.” You get a couple mumbles for replies.
“Why don’t you guys come over to our place soon. Get to know the family?” Lucy suggested.
“That sounds like a great idea.”
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heart4reigns · 1 year
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Could i request a roman and afab reader imagine, where she’s like a sexy badass bitch and she’s been his like valet/girlfriend ever since he returned as the tribal chief. A lot of people think she’s for looks and can’t fight, then during a promo with the judgement day she beats Rhea’s ass. It like shocks everyone, and roman’s just like hell yea that’s my girl and loves it. Lol thank you!🩷🩷🩷
TROPHY WIFE, roman reigns.
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warnings: curse words, blood, pet names
tags: locker room talks, everyone teases you, slight age-gap, bloodline bonding moments, dominik calling you 'papi', sexual innuendos teehee, judgement day teasing YOU non-stop
summary: you’re not useless at all
GROWING up, you were always interested in the wrestling. but you couldn't imagine being in the ring without any experiences. that led you to training on your own. to your luck, your boyfriend–roman, was the undisputed champion of the wwe. ever since his big comeback as this chief-like figure, it made you easier to be on stage without talking. you just stood by his side, staring down at the other party, trying to intimidate them for the views.
no one actually knew that you were going to debut soon as one of wwe's new wrestler, except for the bloodline. for now, you were only a 'trophy wife' for the tribal chief. everyone in the locker room teased you about being there as his silly little girlfriend, you were only there for the looks. "morning!" you greeted the twins, before sliding inside the ring. "one more show before your debut, how you feeling?" solo asked.
"i'm excited." you stretched your body, preparing for the fight with jimmy. "i'm not, i don't want to get my ass beat by you." he shook his head. "oh come on, i don't hit hard." you chuckled. "girl, you hit harder than anyone else here!" jimmy complained. "that's because she's been doing this longer than us." your boyfriend stood outside the ring, winking at you. "right, now let's go!"
and everyone in the gym knew that you were going to beat jimmy's ass in a quick sparring. "good fight, baby!" roman was pumped up. "see, i told you. jimmy's gonna be limping for the next two days." jey ruffled his twin's hair. "shut up, get inside the ring with her now." "oh, i don't want that, i have a family!" he shook his head. "GET YOUR ASS HERE!" you grinned with excitement.
work came and you were mentally preparing to face the judgement day. they were nice people but there were two people that got into your nerves; none other than dominik and rhea. they were around your age, of course they would tease you non-stop. "hey papi." he winked at you when you enter the locker room. "shut up." you rolled your eyes. "awww, you look so cute being alone." rhea chimed in the conversation. "i'll whoop your ass, rhea." she smirked at your response. "the trophy wife can fight?" "come on, that's enough." damien came in to stop the teasing.
as much as you wanted to tell them that you were going to be in the roster, you couldn't. creatives were holding you back from spilling the news. a lot of people loved you, but some thought you were useless. you were just there to look pretty. "you alright, baby?" roman noticed your annoyed expression. "dominik and rhea situation." he chuckled. "don't mind them, they're jokesters." you nodded in agreement.
before walking out, roman quickly kissed your forehead. "let's do this, baby." he muttered. the crowd roared with excitement as they heard roman's entrance song. you pulled off your usual smug facade, ready to face whatever dominik and rhea throws at you. as the four of you walked towards the ring, you heard several people calling your name. "(y/n)!" you threw a wink at them, causing them to go frantic. "god, she's so badass, i wish she was a wrestler. just imagine her in a wrestling gear." one of them said, you were trying your best not to chuckle and break character. oh, they would be very ecstatic to know what's coming, you thought.
to say the least, this was the 'feud' with the judgement day was fun. the new storyline on how you were taunted to join them was a breath of fresh air for the fans. when you first heard about it, you were also excited. they seemed like good people to work with, oh how wrong you were. knowing that you couldn't 'defend' yourself, everyone loved pranking and teasing you. "so, this is the tribal chief?" finn had the mic. "and you should be thankful that he is here in person, to see you all." the crowd cheered as they heard roman's response. "with his wiseman, his silent cousin, and his trophy wife, what a deal!" rhea yelled into the microphone.
"we're still waiting for everyone to betray you. the next time you'll see us, your little trophy wife will sign our contract. or give us your titles. loyalty doesn't exist." rhea smirked, the crowd boo-ed as she waved the papers. you had the mic and you stared down at the opposite group. "i won't be joining you, and you said loyalty doesn't exist? that's right. let's ask who created your group? is he still here?" several 'oooh's dropped as you saw rhea's eyes lit up. another strong girl in the ring, she thought.
the locker room smelt like sweat. you were used to it. "god, i'm so tired." you complained to solo, who was putting on his shoes. "can't wait for you to complain after every match." he chuckled. "you know, it's such a shame that your mic skills are being wasted, could've been an amazing wrestler, papi." dominik came inside the room, all sweating. "stop calling me 'papi', jesus." you chuckled. "i'll stop calling you 'papi' if you hang out with us soon." solo couldn't help but to laugh at dominik's sentence.
the remaining week was spent inside the gym. you were training non-stop for your debut. at one point, you had probably beat all the guys inside the gym, leaving roman last. everyone gathered around the ring, waiting for you to charge at him. "COME ON (Y/N), GIVE HIM HELL!" jey yelled. sure he was a loving boyfriend, but in the ring? another different person.
"baby, hit me with your best shot." roman was challenging you. "don't go soft on me." you warned him. "oh, i won't." your boyfriend smirked. you gritted your teeth, trying to find a spot to attack him first. before he lunged at you, you step aside to avoid him. you weren't stronger than him, but with your figure, you were obviously faster. he landed on one of the ropes, turning his back, facing you again.
but before he knew it, you attacked him with a spear. "DAMN GIRL!" jimmy shouted. you tackled roman to the ground, breathing heavily as he tried to switch places. "did you just speared me?" he asked. "i just did." roman clenched his jaw, trying to find a spot to attack you. you dodged it once again, going to the ropes. "you're going nowhere, baby!" the entire gym was pumped out.
you stood up on the ropes, ready to attack again. "FROG SPLASH HIS ASS!" you heard solo's voice. "OH WE'RE NOT GOING TO DO THAT AGAIN!" roman looked concerned. "DO IT! DO IT!" the twins chanted. "I'M SORRY, BABY!" you apologized before your attack. his entire body bounced back. "what a sell, baby." you chuckled. while being distracted on how he looked, which was very hot and sweaty, he took the chance to flip you over. "aw hell no." you muttered.
roman was on top of you, you struggled to move your body–but like usual, you were faster than him. you licked your lips, ready for another attack. "shit girl, you never run out of energy do you?" solo asked, analizing your stamina. the fight was almost done, you just had to make him tap out. with your agility, you could tell roman was getting tired. "how are you so fast?" roman was gasping for air. "you taught me that." you winked at him. the gym whistled over your answer.
"i can't believe you made me tap out." he chuckled, snuggling closer to you. the two of you were already home, chilling on the bed. "hey, you might be bigger than me, but i can definitely flip you." you rolled your eyes. "and that's what i love about you, you're fearless." he kissed your forehead. "god, i can't wait till tomorrow is over." you confessed. "nervous, are we?" he asked. "course i am." you sighed.
"i don't know, what if people don't care about me? like what if i'm only meant to just be a pretty face." his eyes softened. "baby, you know that everyone loves you right?" roman held your hand. "you'd be the brightest superstar out there, love." even in the darkest times, his words made you smile. "on the good side, we're gonna spend more time together. i look forward to it, baby." roman patted your head, trying to calm you down. "i love you, thank you for believing in me." "i'll always believe in you, baby."
you saw fans lining up outside the venue. paul thought it would be a good idea for the bloodline to go out and meet some fans. so there you were, with the other four, interacting with fans. "(y/n)!" one of them greeted you. "hi hello! thank you for coming today." you passed her a water bottle. "(y/n), god, when are you debuting? i'd love to see some ring action." one of them asked you. "i'm not a wrestler, babes." you told him, giving another bottle of water.
roman was holding your hand the entire time, not wanting you to let go. "wait i gotta take a pee." he said. "go piss girl." you chuckled at your own response. your boyfriend rolled his eyes and excused himself. you entered the locker room with your heart beating faster than usual. no one was inside, you arrived early to change to your new gear. you put on your usual black shirt, covering the gear for the surprise. "sup, papi?" dominik's voice startled you. "oh, good evening to you too." you greeted him. "got the script for today it says get ready for a special surprise attack, damn papi... are you the surprise?" he asked.
"well, let's just see."
you went over to roman's locker room, seeing him gearing up. by gearing up, he was taking off his t-shirt. you whistled your way inside. "you single?" you teased him. "depends who's asking." he teased back. "you look good." you complimented him. "i always do. let me see your gear." he winked at you. you took off the t-shirt and he returned with a whistle. "red and black is definitely your color, baby." he held your waist and kissed your lips. "it's your pick, handsome."
"damn, hope i'm not interrupting something, but we're up in 10." and that moment was ruined by none other than jimmy uso. "(y/n), your gear looks amazing!" roman glared at his cousin and closed the door. "give us 5 more minutes!" he yelled from inside the room. "now where were we?"
the crew ushered you backstage. you felt adrenaline rushing in your veins, you were no longer nervous. this is what you've always wanted and you had the privilege to pursue it. the judgement day went up first, rhea and dominik casually messing with you. "can't wait for the surprise!" dominik chuckled. "oh fuck yourself, mysterio!" you smiled at him.
"the bloodline!" smug face mode on, you thought. the 6 of you walked towards the ring, hearing the crowd go wild. you were the one holding roman's belt. he offered a hand and you gave him his belts so he could make his signature pose. as you stepped inside the ring, rhea was already holding the papers.
the promo started. "so, you're either gonna give us your trophy wife or your title, your pick, tribal chief." rhea mocked him. "your time is up, give us your trophy wife now." she continued. "we are not gonna give you anything." roman replied. "either you walk away or we walk away. leaving you standing here, embarrassed. having nothing in your hands." he was in his character and he looked so hot.
"see, there are 3 things that i love in life." the crowd chanted 'what?' as roman spoke to the mic. "first is (y/n). i wouldn't trade her for anything. second is my titles. third is seeing people like you thinking that you could get away with anything you want." he smirked. "and we're not signing your goddamn papers." he dropped the mic. it was your cue to walk away now.
as you walked hand-in-hand, rhea went over her lines. "walk away! like you always do! a useless group with an even more useless advocates!" roman looked at you, giving you the biggest smile that the camera couldn't capture. "go, babygirl." everyone was still walking back but you turned around. you caught everyone's attention.
roman's song changed to yours. "what is this? why is (y/n) running back to the ring?" the commentator said. the crowd roared as you ripped your shirt, revealing your gear. "what? that's a wrestling gear! can you believe it? the trophy wife is in a wrestling gear!" you slid inside the ring, quickly attacking the first person you saw. finn. he was practically grinning from ear-to-ear, excited.
you jumped and punched his jaw, avoiding certain spots that could damage him. the judgement day had an excited expression plastered on their faces; especially dominik and rhea. "bring it on, trophy wife!" dominik yelled. you quickly speared him outside the ring, causing him to fall on his back. "and you're fast!" damien smiled, trying to take a hit on your shoulders, only having you avoid it. "i am!" you smirked, using roman's iconic move–superman punch, against him.
rhea stood in the middle of the ring, ready to attack you. "so you're not useless at all, huh?" she stared down at you. "is she going to attack rhea? how is she going to survive her?" the commentator yelled. to your luck, you were able to dodge multiple hits. rhea tripped a bit, giving you several seconds to spare. you quickly picked her up and slammed her on her back. you looked over her, she gave you a small nod, indicating that she was okay.
your song played and there you were, in the middle of the ring–with a grin plastered on your face. "did we just witness the debut of the trophy wife?" one of the announcer said. "and there she is, the long-waited debut... what should we call her? the trophy wife? (y/n) (l/n)!" everyone cheered and stood up from their seat. you were gasping for air, raising your fist up. "(y/n)! (y/n)!" the crowd chanted.
"that's my babygirl!" roman yelled as he ran back to the ring and tackled you with a hug. roman picked you up on his shoulders, showing you off to the crowd. "i love you." you mouthed. "and i love you too." oh his expression is gonna end on a 'top 10 times roman reigns breaking character' video, you thought. nevertheless, this was only the beginning for you.
a/n: SORRY IF THIS IS QUITE LONG I GOT CARRIED AWAY... HOPE YOU ENJOY IT <3 feedbacks are appreciated and requests are always open for any other wwe wrestlers!!
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eternalsa2z · 1 month
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Costumes Games
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So my doll Zoey was progressing well on her path to being the perfect little bimbo. But there were some bumps in the process...and not the nice silicone kind that we wanted. She was a bit resistant to some of the more extreme changes. Questioning why we need to try this, upgrade that, dress this way. Overthinking was getting in the way of her happiness.
Luckily I discovered that she loved games and dressing up in costumes. I decided to put together a little training exercise where I would text her a simple phrase and she would have 30 minutes to dress up in a matching outfit and send me the results. At first I started simple. But eventually the costumes would push her deeper into her desired mind and body.
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"Dressed To Kill"
The first attempt had mixed results. She took the message literally, going for a slasher look with a full mask. Obviously that was not ideal, but I was pleased to note the way she stuck out her ass in the short leotard. I simply told her that the real 'horror' part of the look was that she covered up her breasts and pretty face. I could tell she was blushing under the mask...hopefully the hint would sink in later.
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"Bunny"
The second phrase had the desired affect. She could've gone with a Lola Bunny cosplay or a more modest bunny costume. But I was pleased to see she went for the full-blown sexy playboy bunny outfit. Sure she was a little shy, especially when I told her I loved her looking like 'my little fuck bunny'. But the way her tail quivered told me she was enjoying it.
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"Schoolgirl"
She was faster to send a photo this time. Probably because the choice was a simple and short as the uniform she dressed up in. Zoey's pouty face and eye-rolling expression seemed to indicate she disapproved of the request I made. But I didn't tell her to put on those sexy fishnets. Or pull her short skirt up so much her white panties were visible. I didn't even ask her to show off her new fake tits she agreed to get after telling her it'd enhance her costumes. She chose that. It was a sign the training was working...but this schoolgirl still had more to learn.
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"Dressed To Kill"
As a test I texted her an old phrase out of the blue, telling her she had 15 minutes before I would be home to take her out to eat. I wanted to test her progress and set the expectation that she should be ready to dress up anytime, anywhere. She spent two minutes complaining but eventually sent me this pic right as I was pulling into the driveway.
It was such an improvement. She looked sleeker and sexier than last time. Her recently enhanced ass still sticking out and her tits definitely not covered by the top of that tight dress. Sure she was covering her face again, probably because she was worried that this outfit wasn't technically a costume. But I kissed her and once I told her she was dressed as 'a trophy wife' then she happily put herself on full display at the restaurant.
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"Pet"
Eventually the costumes requests came quicker, with a shorter deadline, and with more vague prompts. I wanted Zoey to not even think. To instinctively react and pick something sexy. It turned out purrrrectly with her latest choice. It took her five minutes to throw on this leopard print leotard complete with cute cat ears. When I asked my doll why she went with that look, she just stared at me blankly like the answer was obvious. "Because I'm your little sex kitten..."
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"Pumpkin"
The last thing to work on was the mental side of things. I tried to dumb down my doll by disorienting her with odd costume requests. Since there's nothing sexy about a big round orange gourd, I was hoping she'd impulsively pick something 'cute as a pumpkin' or to highlight her big, fake, silicone-enhanced pumpkins. But this time it was my doll who surprised me.
It took her minutes to get into this getup. She looked a little befuddled, like she wasn't even sure what she was, but whatever she chose she looked great. I though her sexy little cowgirl / farmer outfit with pumpkins in the background was a great idea. She said it was because she wanted to ride me cowgirl style in the costume allllll night. That made it an even better costume idea!
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"Birthday suit"
Finally it was clear that the games had worked. Zoey was a blank, busty, instinctive bimbo doll who could pick out an outfit faster than she could compute that 2 + 2 = 5. To celebrate, I wanted to get her naked. But I should have expected my silly little ditz to not quite understand the assignment.
"Ummm...like...I wasn't sure why you wanted me to wear a suit?" she responded, looking confused and thus very cute. "So I just baked you a pretty birthday cake in my sexy robe! Would you like to rub the frosting over my titties and lick it off later tonight?"
Like Zoey, I didn't even have to think. I told her of course...and that she didn't need to include the robe. It was the one outfit I didn't need her to put on this time. Because she had finally become the perfect bimbo doll we both always wanted her to be.
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