The Football Player's Parallel Obsession Novels & Stories

It was that dangerous kind of stillness when your brain catches up, but your heart’s too stunned to move. Cassian Draven. Standing in the center of the cage like a god made of blood and violence. Arms raised. Knuckles split. Sweat trickling down the curve of his abs like liquid sin, glinting under the spotlight. He roared into the chaos, and the crowd roared back—drunk on his rage, his beauty, his madness. My ex. The man who once made me forget every rule I ever lived by. The one I never should’ve touched, but couldn’t stop touching.

About seeing how far I’d bend before I snapped. The rules were simple but he had a knack for making sure I lost more often than not. Every time I did he filled my glass higher. I tried to pace myself but his stare across the table was hypnotic. The man knew how to make the walls feel like they were closing in and there was nowhere to run. My grip on logic weakened with each glass. I knew he was trying to peel away the layers when he leaned in and asked, “Tell me, what’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?”

The way my body had reacted before my brain could catch up. He was a damn good kisser. That realization settled heavy in my chest. I swallowed, adjusting myself in my pants and looked back at my phone, thumb drifting lower to the comments. “He plays like Mahomes but on defense too wtf.” “That was straight Mahomes-level instincts.” Patrick Mahomes? I scoffed quietly, rolling my eyes. "That anticipation level is insane. Pure football IQ" "The aura is crazy tho." "Sebastian Burkhart is HIM" And all of the sudden—

He walks over to his open locker, surfs through it, and grabs a pair of black pants. As if I didn’t say a thing, he pulls down his shorts, exposing the long bulge of his dick inside his boxer briefs. It's so massive and thick that I could almost make out the huge veins underneath the cotton fabric. Feeling awkward that he caught me ogling, I quickly turn away, muttering within myself and asking God for his mercy to get out of this temptation intact. But it seems Cicero doesn’t share in my sentiments. I feel his presence before he touches my shoulder, and turns me around to look at him.

He raised an eyebrow sarcastically, whispering: “A flea bite? What’s next? Don’t be nervous? Advice from the wrong person.” I swallowed nervously, shot him a deadly glance, then shoved the needle in one swift motion. The light flashed red again. I let out a long sigh and collapsed, stretching my arms out, lying flat as the cold tile seeped into my back. “I… I’m disappearing from this world… curling into a dark hole… no one, nothing, no damn needle.” I muttered, staring defeated at the ceiling. “Are you crazy? Are you using a syringe or stabbing me with a sword?!”

Brook grumbled to the man next to him as they headed to the spectator area. "But Zachary must die." His face contorted with anger as he spoke. "Without him, my daughter will eventually marry Kenneth. "His parents' power will be at our disposal by then, and the billions we earn can be laundered through filmmaking. It's all his fault!" "I've prepared a fun little game for him," the man, Ashton Conrad, said with a grin. While Brook's fury was evident, Ashton was excited about the upcoming game. The arena, akin to a cyberpunk underground fighting pit, was always the highlight for those seeking thrills. In this arena, everyone could become immoral.

What is the meaning of being odd? Its a question Rebecca has come to ask herself since she doesn't fit in, it didn't really matter, but she couldn't help wonder how it would be to walk with her kind. She sat watching the football players ram each other after the whistle blew, grunts and heaves, the sound of hard plastic colliding, then the cheers from the crowd as the quarterback made it through. She clasped her ears, they where loud, and Rebecca found this game boring, what's the idea behind ramming each other like that anyway!?

He said, “ya’ll didn't make it easy for me, I had scouts from all over banging down my door actually. But I don't wanna just be known as one thing, I don't get perfect A’s but I do okay in school. And I definitely want to be able to fall back on my education when the day comes that I can't play ball no more. But really, I mean the 49’ers are right next door so…” Chris and Mary laughed. I just sat there, clueless about it all, but making a note to look up what city that team played in. The rest of dinner went by pretty quickly, with Mary and Chris both questioning Fletch about football stuff and how he liked the coach. Of course they also wanted to know what other teams he could be interested

He didn't know what she had been doing to him these days but he could see that he was loosing control. That was the last thing he wanted. He was supposed to be in control while she begged and pleaded with him. He had been the one to propose this offer in the first place, so everything about it should be his call. He was still consumed in his thoughts when he felt cold air rush against his skin. He looked down to see that his shirt was no longer on him and his pants were now at his ankle and Leila was working on drawing down his boxers. He heaved a huge sigh. He was getting addicted to her. He needed to fight this addiction before it took over his power over her and make him lost to her. Perh

he says and I reluctantly agree to get water although I didn't actually want to take anything. He and I talk about the most random things for a few minutes. He tells me about his love for football, what it's like being the star player of the club and he also went on about his likes, dislikes and interests and since I had nothing fun to share, I decided to focus on just being a listener. I suddenly start to feel tired and dizzy and I could not help but yawn tiredly every two seconds. "Are you bored? Am I talking too much?" Lucas asks with a weird expression on his face.