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moodriingz · 3 months

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Waiting Room | Q. Hughes

Summary | Reader works for the Canucks’ socials and has an unrequited crush on Quinn. Based off of Waiting room by Phoebe Bridgers.

Pairing | Quinn Hughes x reader, Elias Peterson x platonic!reader, reader x oc

Warnings | unrequited love, angst, moving on?

Author's Note | Oh my gosh this ended up so much longer than intended, so buckle in it’s a long one. I thought about trying to shorten it but I had so many ideas about what to include. I was also so nervous to write this one that it took me forever to finish. Also thinking of writing a part two, but let me know what you think. Please send in requests for other players!

Masterlist

Part two

If you were a teacher, I would fail your class

Take it over and over 'til you noticed me

“This is why you are the best person ever,” Quinn said as you carried an insane amount of coffee for some of the team and the Canucks social staff.

“Oh, it’s no big deal I always just pick some up when I get mine,” you say as you almost drop the lattes from your hands. “I’m going to find Elias and drop his off and then head to my desk. See you at practice.”

“Y/N how did you know I didn’t get the chance to pick up my coffee?” Elias asked with a smirk. “Or did you just get extra so it wouldn’t be obvious you love to get Quinn’s coffee?”

“Goodbye Elias! I’ll see you on the ice in a bit!” You shout as you walk down the hall to the social media office.

You set down the last two coffees on your desk, go through your emails, and write down some ideas for content before your morning meeting.

“Y/N you have to stop buying his coffee, you're just torturing yourself,” Megan says as she sets her bag down. “But please don’t stop bringing me coffee because I never have enough time to get some myself.”

“Ok Megan I’ll keep that in mind, but I don’t get it just for Quinn, I also got it for Elias today,” you say with a blush covering your cheeks.

“Yeah alright. Let’s go get this meeting started.”

If you were a waiting room, I would never see a doctor

I would sit there with my first aid kit and bleed

After the meeting with the rest of the social media and communications team, it’s decided that you have to go on the ice to capture content today. Usually, you can just film from the bench, but your boss wanted some trending content that required you to skate with the team. The only bad thing about filming on the ice was your awful case of clumsiness.

You were filming content with Brock when you tripped over your own two feet. Normally, you’d laugh it off after getting up, but your left foot twisted under your body.

You wince as Brock helps you stand to skate off the pain but yelp the second you put your weight on the foot. Quinn watches as Brock’s hands are on your waste and immediately skates over the second you cry out in pain.

“Are you ok? What happened?” Quinn asked, putting your arm around his shoulders to support you as he took you to the bench.

“I-I’m fine. I just twisted my ankle as I fell,” You say looking into his worried eyes.

“Ok, let me take the skate off, and then we can go to the trainers and get you ice,” Quinn grimaces as he takes the skate off and sees your ankle already swelling.

“It’s probably just a sprain, but we need to get ice on this ASAP. I’ll take you to the trainers, let's go,” Quinn says standing to help you up.

“But what about practice? You guys have your East Coast road trip coming up, and I’m not going to be the reason you skip out on practice,” You say trying to figure your way to get ice or wait until Megan comes to help.

Truthfully though, you don’t want him to take you because the way Quinn is taking care of you makes you fall harder for him.

“Don’t be crazy. Practice is almost over and they won’t miss me for the five minutes it’ll take me to make sure you’re ok,” Quinn says as you nod reluctantly. You feel your blush coming back and know you’re never going to get over your silly crush on Quinn Hughes.

I want to be the power ballad that lifts you up and holds you down

I wanna be the broken love song that feeds your misery

The next night the Canucks lost to the Flyers with just a game left before the two-week road trip. The loss was hard following Christmas, and Quinn was beating himself up over the game. You found him after finishing up your content for the night and he finished his interviews. He tried to smile at you, but it looked like a grimace from how tight his lips were.

“Hey how are you,” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” You say sheepishly.

“Yeah, I guess. Are you busy tonight? I was hoping we could hang out at my place and watch some movies,” Quinn’s question surprised you. You’ve only really hung out in group settings or when the team went out after a game.

“I’m free, let me just finish wrapping some stuff up and then we can go,” You say with butterflies forming in your chest.

You go and find Megan and tell her everything that happened with Quinn.

“Shut up you’re going, right?” She asks.

“Yeah of course I am, I think I’d be stupid not to. I’m just nervous,” You respond.

“Don’t be. He asked you over for a reason he must not hate you.” Megan says practically pushing you out the door.

You nod and go back to find Quinn talking to Elias while he waits for you to come back.

“Hey ready to go?” You ask.

“You’re replacing me for our movie nights?” Elias blurts out of jealousy.

“No, not completely replacing you. I just didn’t want to wallow alone. Plus I figured Y/N would be free,” Quinn says nonchalantly. There’s a pang in your chest because not only is this a tradition with someone else, but that he just assumed you’re at his beck and call. You both arrive at his apartment after a silent drive from Rogers arena.

“Do you want anything to drink?” He asks, swaying back and forth. Is he nervous? Why would he be? It's not like this is a date or anything. This is something he always does with Elias.

“Can I just have water?” You say quieter than intended. You felt small and out of place in his apartment.

“Of course. Do you want to pick out the movie? I figure you should do the honors for your first movie night,” He says as he pours your water.

You think for a second and immediately know you should put on your favorite rom-com 13 going on 30. It’s kind of a comfort movie and you might calm down with something familiar. Once it’s pulled up he sits down with you on the couch.

And I can wish all that I want, but it won't bring us together

Plus I know whatever happens to me, I know it's for the better

He told you he’s never seen the movie as he sits down and watches intently until the birthday scene.

“Man, I feel so bad for that Matty kid.”

“Why,” you say, keeping your attention on the tv.

“His unrequited love with Jenna,” He says it so plainly like he’s toying with you for your confession.

“Yeah unrequited love is the worst,” You say finally looking over at him.

“Why do you have feelings like that for someone,” He chuckles at the idea. You realize he doesn’t know that you have feelings for him.

“No. I did at one point,” You say, and the subject is dropped. You watch the rest of the movie and he orders you an Uber home. You realized that night that your crush needs to end no matter how hard it is.

And when broken bodies are washed ashore

Who am I to ask for more, more, more?

Quinn seems to be in a much better mood from the loss the night before. But you want to avoid him at all costs today. Your boss asks you to do something with him later. There’s nothing you rather do than work with Quinn, but You want to stay in your boss’ good graces.

She asked you to shoot a video with a concept that had been performing well on socials with other players. You find Quinn before he steps out for practice to let him know you’re following him for the day.

“Hopefully you can keep a better balance than you did with Brock,” He chuckles.

“Yeah I’ll try my best not to fall today,” you say with your signature blush covering your cheeks.

“Well if you do I’ll catch you. Can’t have my favorite staffer breaking something.” Oh, he must be playing with you. Your face is completely flushed and you give a court nod before running to the restroom to calm down.

You start to think over your last couple of conversations. Had he been flirting? Or giving you more attention than usual? You think about how he rushed to your side and left practice just to help you even if it got him in trouble. You think about his smile when you bring his coffee. You think about last night how he was so tuned into unrequited love.

“No Y/N there are bigger things than a silly little crush. You have to go do your job.” You say to yourself in the mirror. After your pep talk, you go out on the ice, shoot your content quickly, and then go back to your office to edit. You tell yourself that you need to stop focusing so much on Quinn.

But you're breathing in my open mouth

You're the gun in my lips that will blow my brains out

The Canucks win the next game, and before you can make it into the locker room to shoot content Brock stops you.

“Y/N! Are you coming out with us tonight?” He asks. You can see Quinn’s head pick up waiting for your response.

“Yeah, I can. I just need to film a couple of the post-game interviews and then I can leave,” you say excited for a drink.

When you all arrive at the usual bar you head straight up to the bar. You give a once-over of the crowd and how many people are there tonight. You go find the boys at their usual table. And you find Quinn’s eyes already staring at yours.

“I think I’m going to go dance,” You tell Elias before turning around to head to the dance floor.

“Where’s she going,” Quinn asks Elias, watching your retreating figure.

“Going to dance. Are you going to replace me there too?” He jokes.

“Haha, very funny. I’ll be back in a bit,” Quinn says as he leaves to find you.

Of course, you’re in the middle of the crowd and once he finds you’re already making new friends. Quinn laughs to himself because you’re so sociable unlike him.

“Are you ok if I join you,” Quinn says leaning in. You can only nod and note his proximity but brush it off due to the crowded area.

He dances close to you as music plays over the speakers. His energy and presence make you feel alive. He follows your moves as you’re face to face and you never want this night to end. However, at the end of the song, he notices your glass is empty and offers you another drink. You nod and follow him back to the bar.

“Aren’t you going to order something?” You ask after he only requests your drink. He shakes his head no and gets closer.

“I figured I’d be the designated driver to take you home tonight,” he says with his breath hitting your ear. The alcohol already going straight to your head makes the room spin and gives you confidence.

“Usually I only take guys home after the third date,” You joke, instantly regretting it. He laughs it off and says that you need more water instead of a drink. Even though you’re tipsy you remember that this crush is going to hurt you regardless of how he feels.

I want to make you drive all night just because I said maybe you should come over

I want to make you fall in love as hard as my poor parents' teenage daughter

At the end of the night, Quinn keeps his promise as he ushers you into his car. You’re giggling as he pulls you towards safety and you say goodnight to all of the team.

“Goodnight Pettyyyyy,” you slur and yell as you get further from him. He just waves and chuckles.

“Get her home safe Huggy,” Elias shouts back drunkenly.

“Will do. See you tomorrow,” Quinn says finally getting you in the car.

“You know my dad used to drive my mom back from bars back in the day,” you say once he starts driving as you stare out the window.

“Oh yeah?” Quinn chuckles at your drunken state.

You feel so grateful that he decided to take you home. You hate taking Uber, especially after drinking. You take note that the bar is nowhere close to your apartment and his place is on the other side of town. It wasn’t an easy thing for him to do, but he did it without you even having to ask. Maybe your unrequited love isn’t so unrequited and you fall asleep in your bed hopeful for what the next day could contain.

She'll be the best you ever had if you let her

The next morning was rough to get out of bed, but get excited when memories of Quinn going out of his way to bring you home come back to you. You get ready and go to the coffee shop you always stop at with a pep in your step.

Once you get to the arena you go straight to the locker room as usual except you stop right outside of the door when you hear Elias and Quinn talking.

“So you and Y/N,” Elias said with a suggestive and teasing tone.

“Nothing happened between us. She’s sweet and all, but I’m not into her that way,” He says quickly. Your heart shattered and you turned around to leave before you could be caught.

You drop your things off at your desk and run to the restroom to let out a good cry. After a minute or two you compose yourself before going back to your desk and delivering the coffee like nothing happened.

You hand Quinn's coffee and he thanks you with his usual stupid smile like he didn’t say anything ten minutes ago. You give Elias his coffee and leave the locker room without saying a word. Little did you know, Elias followed you out and caught up to you in the hallway.

“You heard him didn’t you?” He asks you with sad eyes.

“Yeah, but it’s ok I knew this would happen. I’ll be ok. It’s just going to be awkward on the plane because we always sit together for roadies,” you say with a sigh.

“Sit with me,” Elias says simply and you just look at him perplexed. “I’ll just say I wanted my own movie night with you.” You nod and tell Elias you have to go for your meeting before you all leave.

I know it's for the better

Know it's for the better

Know it’s for the better

You walk into the plane after your meeting and you finalize some posts to be uploaded while you’re flying. You see Quinn watching you expectantly for you to take your unassigned seat next to him. However, You miss the surprised and sad gaze he has after you walk past him to sit with Elias.

Elias always sits near the back of the plane, and Quinn knows you hate sitting so far back. He hears you and Elias pick a movie to watch during the flight and he gets jealous. It’s small but Quinn always wanted to do that on flights with you, but you always were more interested in reading or sleeping.

“Do you want to watch 27 Dresses? Isn’t that your favorite?” Quinn hears Elias ask you and Quinn scoffs. He knew even before you came over to watch a movie that 13 going on 30 was your favorite move. That’s why he watched it before he invited you over so he’d have good commentary for your movie night.

You grab Elias’ hand as the plane lifts and apologize and say it’s muscle memory. You always get nervous on planes but Quinn always calms you down. You and Elias have fun for the rest of the flight. Watching movies even though it was something you wanted to do with Quinn. But you know getting over your crush is for the better. You and Quinn wouldn’t have worked out anyway.

Know it's for the better

Know it’s for the better

The next day you wake up in your hotel room after letting yourself sleep in a little bit. Even on road trips, you would make a point of getting Quinn’s coffee. But you decided now that you know he doesn’t feel the same, so you didn’t see the point in doing it anymore. You come down from your hotel room and see Quinn in the lobby.

“Oh hey, I was just going to wait for you to come back from getting coffee for everyone,” Quinn says sheepishly.

“Oh yeah, I guess I forgot to set an alarm and overslept. I can’t go today because I have to go meet the Blue’s social team before the game to go over rules for the game,” You say with little emotion.

“Oh ok, that makes sense. I guess I just see you at the arena,” Quinn says sadly.

“See you there!” You say with a smile leaving the lobby. This was the first time you felt like you could maybe get over Quinn Hughes.

Know it's for the better

The team returns from a successful road trip and you feel energized, which rarely happens after traveling for two weeks straight. You and Elias became good friends over the trip and now realize there is a lot more to your work than just Quinn.

After your meeting, you and Megan are talking about your plans as you settle back into Vancouver.

“You should let me set you up,” Megan blurts out, cutting off your list of chores.

“What? Who would it even be?” You’re intrigued where she’s going with this.

“My friend Evan just got out of a relationship a couple of months ago. I feel like you guys would really get along. Plus it could be good for-”

“You know what I’m in. Can you send me his number or something?” You decided you were ready to move on.

“Yes! I’ll send it right now. I'm so excited.”

You go to the ice to get ready for some practice content. Quinn is out first and gives you a weak smile. You feel a mixture of butterflies and your heart clenches. You missed Quinn. You haven’t had a full conversation with him since you all went out. Even though you’re trying to convince yourself to, you don’t know if you’ll be able to move on from Quinn Hughes.

Know it's for the better

Know it’s for the better

Your date with Evan is today and you’re excited. You feel giddy all day thinking about the prospect of dating again. Your boss lets you go home early because you’ve finished your content and are ahead of schedule. As you walk out to your car you see the team going back to the locker room from practice.

“Hey Y/N are you coming out with us tonight? It’s nothing crazy we just wanted to go out to celebrate the road trip,” Brock asks

“I would love to, but I actually have a date tonight,” You say with a grin and blush on your face.

Know it's for the better

Know it’s for the better

There’s a couple of wolf whistles from the team when you tell them your plans. Quinn’s heart drops at the idea of you going out with someone else. He knew you guys hadn't talked a lot during the trip, but he just figured it was because you were busy with work or tired. He didn’t think it was because you started talking to someone.

He sulks as he gets ready to go home, and can’t stop thinking about who your date could be with and what you’re doing. He knows you look great no matter what you wear, but the idea of you dressing up for some other guy makes him uneasy.

Quinn gets home and thinks about texting you, but what would he even say? “Good luck on your date hope you have fun” when he prays it goes badly so he has a shot again? He thinks about texting you to not go on the date, but knows it’s not his place and you might not feel the same way.

Instead he texts Elias if he wants to hang out. Elias comes over and immediately notices his sour mood.

“What’s got you so down?”

“Nothing I guess I’m just in my head,” Quinn says.

“Is it about Y/N? I thought you said you don’t have feelings for her,” Elias says as a joke knowing Quinn would never admit it out loud.

“I didn’t think I did, but I’ve really missed her over the last couple of weeks and it made me think about her a lot. I just don’t know what to do,” Quinn says with his head in his hands. Elias is shocked at his revelation and doesn’t know what to say.

“I doubt the date is going to be that great. Tell her how you feel after,” Elias says and Quinn just nods his head.

Know it's for the better

Know it’s for the better

You get ready for your date and get even more excited as it gets closer to your date. You know it might not go anywhere with Evan, but you’re just proud of yourself for trying to move on from Quinn.

You go to meet Evan at a restaurant downtown, and give him a hug when you see him. You quickly notice he’s the complete opposite of Quinn; he has brown eyes instead of Quinn’s blue eyes. Evan’s hair is light brown and barely has a wave vs Quinn’s dark brown curls.

You quickly take note that Evan is more talkative and has a bigger personality than Quinn. He doesn’t seem to like silence and is always asking you more questions about yourself even as you try to look over the menu. Then you realize that if you truly want to get over Quinn, you’ve to stop comparing Evan to him.

That's when you guys hit it off. You realize he’s really funny and also understands your humor. You both have a lot in common too. You can’t stop smiling throughout the rest of the night.

Know it’s for the better

After your dinner you both don’t want the date to be over just yet so you decide to take a walk down the street to continue your conversation. You have no idea how long you guys have been together, but haven’t gotten bored of each other for the night.

You stumble across an ice cream shop, and both note how much you love ice cream. And even though it’s freezing outside you both decide to get some to end the night. After you finish you both decide to call it a night and He walks you back to your car.

Know It’s for the better

Know it’s for the better

“I hate to say it this way, but I didn’t think I could have this much fun on a date,” Evan says looking down at you.

“No me too, but I had an amazing time.”

“Do you want to go out again soon? I don’t know what your schedule looks like, but-” Evan rambles on and you decide to cut him off.

“I would love to. I’ll let you know when I’m free,” You say with a smile.

You get in the car and can wipe the grin off of your face as you drive home. You get ready for bed and almost want to text Elias, but know he’s with the team and didn’t want to interrupt their fun.

Know it's for the better

I never grew up with you

And you’re not my waiting room

The next day you go into the office with your smile still wide. You see Megan in the parking lot and walk in together telling her about your date.

“You were so right, me and Evan got along so well. He’s great. We’re going on another date too” Megan squeals and tells you she’s so excited for you.

Little did you know that Quinn was nearby and heard everything. You spot him not thinking much about it and he gives you a small smile. You realize that your life will continue on after your crush on Quinn and you’re ok with that.

#quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #vancouver canucks #quinn hughes x y/n #nhl #quinn hughes fic #vancouver canucks fic #Spotify

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ghostboneswrites2 · 2 months

Note

Lots of love if you write this, and lots of love if you don’t!

Could you do a Daryl x reader where at first he doesn’t like her, and she tries to get to know why hes so mean to her? Maybe he yells at her and then some comfort after?

Note: this is a cute idea! I might write a different version of this one later <3 not sure how I feel about it. This ended up a lot more angst and has a lot more of an argument than I originally intended tbh

Another note: I usually write in past tense but this one has both past and present tense. It’s lightly proofread but I apologize if I missed any errors in past vs present tense!

Summary: Every since he first saw you he’s seemingly had it out for you. All that frustration comes to a head when you have to go rescue him from the side of the road.

18+ MDNI || WARNINGS: Daryl bring a Dickson, profanity, TWD typical non graphic violence, guns

Daryl stepped into the RV for a gun, shaking his head with annoyance at the sight of your failure. Well, multiple failures. See, you started with a standard Glock, but the recoil spring in that one was too hard to set in place. Then, you switched to the Beretta, where you found your current firing pin spring issue.

Daryl stared down at all the bits and pieces sprawled on the table in front of you.

“Y’gon’ take every damn gun apart ‘til we ain’t got none when we need ‘em?” He complained. You glared.

“Well, excuse me if taking apart guns to clean them wasn’t my hobby of choice before shit hit the fan.” You shot back.

That day was the beginning of a long standing feud between the two of you. A feud that was frankly one sided. You never had a problem with the smelly hunter. In fact, you often made meager attempts at impressing him or even going as far as to be friendly. Unfortunately, you were always met with rude snark and bitterness.

One time, at the CDC, you had a little too much wine with dinner. You were stumbling through the hall, attempting to find the room you had previously claimed, when you had the misfortune of walking right into Daryl.

“Oh! I’m sorry.” You giggled.

“Damn it.” He grumbled with an annoyed sigh. “Can’t ya watch where the hell you’re goin’?”

“I’m sorry, really—“ You tried to apologize again but he had no intentions of hearing it.

“Don’t drink if ya can’t handle yourself.” He snapped. “Got the dead roamin’ the damn earth and you get shit-faced the first damn chance ya get!”

In your drunken, emotional state, you sniffled and cried quietly to yourself that night. Why was he always so damn mean? You missed your friends and family so much, and you couldn’t even bare to think about your cat.

When Sophia got lost everything was worse. You’d offer to help with the search and you’d always hear the same response; “I already got one little kid to look for. I don’t need two.”

You also tried to console him when Sophia’s body came staggering out of that barn.

“You’re a great tracker, Daryl. We were all just too late.” You’d say.

“Ain’t no we! You didn’t do shit but stay back and twiddle your fuckin’ thumbs! Get on somewhere. I don’t need your caudlin’.”

When the farm fell, he’d always snap at you for lagging behind the group when you were on the move. You couldn’t help it. You were so tired and hungry.

“Keep up, damn it. Can’t afford to keep slowin’ down!”

When you were all clearing the prison, he wouldn’t even let you shoot.

“Jus’ stay back and hit the fence. Distract ‘em. You can’t shoot for shit.”

Since then, you reasoned to just avoid him. You’d never met anyone who could make you feel so bad about yourself. You decided to stop asking yourself why he hated you. You weren’t going to try and change it anymore. You were just going to exist the best you could, as far away from him as the prison yard would allow.

Which brings us to now. Inventory is your main task at the prison. Some people make it hard. Carl never checks out his weapons, nor does Daryl. But with Carl losing his mom and Daryl being such an ass, you never say anything. You just make notes on the weapons they’re most likely to take without telling you.

Beth sometimes grabs formula without letting you know, but taking care of a baby is hard work for a teenage girl to be doing full time. You have no intentions of nagging her. So, as usual, you just check your inventory every day and report to Rick or Hershel, usually the latter.

When your inventory is done for the afternoon, you decide to find Carol and help her with laundry. Maggie is on the tower today with Glenn, so she’s all by herself out there scrubbing everyone’s smelly clothes.

“Hey. Need some help?” You ask her, pressing your lips into a thin smile. She returns the same expression and nods.

“Please? For such a small group we sure go through a lot of clothes.”

“No problem.” You say as you get down on your knees and begin scrubbing and ringing out a pair of jeans. “Jeez. These really stink.” You mumble. Carol giggles.

“Daryl.” She sighs.

“Does he ever shower?”

“I mean.. never would be a strong word. Rarely, though, that might be the accurate description.” She jokes. You chuckle.

“Hey, (Y/N)?” Rick asks as he approaches you. You look up from Daryl’s stained jeans. “Could you take a car out to the main road? Daryl’s broken down out there. He can’t carry all those supplies back.”

“Me?” You raise your eyebrows, tossing a quick glance to Carol. If anyone is accustomed to your strained relationship with the archer, it’s her. Daryl would often complain about you to her, and she’d just as often give you a reassuring pat on the shoulder when she’d notice his harsh treatment.

“Well, yeah, if ya don’t mind.” Rick nods. He is a little more oblivious to how rude Daryl can be toward you, but he isn’t blind to the visible tension the two of you share. He just assumes it was never that serious.

“Um.. Sure.” You shrug. A pit in your stomach is already festering, growing bigger as it feeds on your anxiety. You had been very successful at avoiding Daryl since you’d been at the prison. The only solace you find is in the fact that you had grown more confident since you guys found this place. Being in charge of inventory gave you a much needed sense of control. From there, you realized just how much you really did have control over, and soon enough the scared girl you once were had become a productive young woman. Now, you have to put that confidence to the test, facing the man who kind of stole what little faith in yourself you had to begin with. You vow to yourself that today will be the day you stand your ground to Daryl Dixon.

You brush off your jeans and accept the keys from Rick before making your way to the vehicle parked near the gates. When you start the engine, Carl drags open one gate, then the other, and you head out. You notice Daryl right away when you make it to the main road. He’s smoking a cigarette, leaned up against the red truck he had taken into town.

You can’t help but wonder why he was on a run by himself to begin with. It isn’t like Rick to send anyone off on their own. Then again, knowing Daryl, it’s not that hard to figure out why he might be a solo kind of guy.

You pull the car up beside the truck. He glances up at the vehicle but immediately looks back down at the ground when he realizes it’s you. He makes sure to seem indifferent.

Instead of letting his lack of a greeting (or gratitude) phase you, you just step out of the driver’s seat and pop the trunk open before approaching the bed of the truck and beginning to transfer all of his loot into the car. When the trunk fills up, you resort to packing the back seat.

By the time Daryl finishes his cigarette, he notices there are a few more items still in the truck. He huffs and impatiently grabs the three items, shoving them in the back seat and slamming the door shut, mumbling something about you taking your sweet time.

“What was that?” You speak up before sitting back down in the driver’s seat.

“Move over. I’m drivin’.”

“That’s not what you said, first of all. And no. I drove here just fine, I can drive back.” You roll your eyes.

“Quit bein’ difficult damn it! I’m tired. Been workin’ all day out there riskin’ my neck.” He snaps.

“I’ve been working too.” You shrug, sitting down and starting the engine.

“Scribblin’ on a clipboard ain’t nothin’ like what I do.” He argues, still standing by the driver side, waiting for you to give in and let him drive. You won’t, though. You won’t cave in and bow to him like a puppy with its tail between its legs like you used to. He lost the privilege of your kindness — or maybe cowardice — a while ago.

“Actually, I woke up and spent two hours on the fence impaling skulls, then I helped Hershel hoe the ground for spring crops before I scrubbed the common area of the cell block on my hands and knees. Then I did inventory, then I washed your smelly ass jeans. So, no, I don’t just scribble on a clip board.” You correct him. “And, while we’re on that subject, you’re supposed to check out your fucking weapons. Would make the scribbling part a lot easier for me.”

He clenches his jaw and his fists at your insubordination.

“I don’t know when you grew a smart ass mouth but I ain’t got time for it so quit your bitchin’ and move outta my seat.” He demands.

“Or you could stop wasting time and just get in the passenger seat.” You roll your eyes.

“God, do you ever stop bein’ such a damn burden?!” He shouts. You run your tongue over your teeth and nod.

“Burden?” You repeat.

“Yeah. A burden.” He drawls. “As in, makin’ shit harder for everyone around you.”

“Hmm.” You hum thoughtfully. “Okay.”

With that simple response, you shut off the engine, toss the keys on the ground beside him, and stand up. With your knife in your belt for protection, you start walking toward the woods. You realize that he is absolutely unbearable. You won’t subject yourself to even a five minute car ride with him.

“Where the hell are you goin’?!” He calls out after you. You ignore him. “C’mon, (Y/N), get in the damn car!”

By this point you’re blending into the trees and he’s losing sight of you. He groans and slams the car door shut, snatching the keys off the asphalt before he marches off after you. He swears when he gets his hands on you, he’s dragging you back by your ankles and cramming you in the trunk with the rest of the shit he looted today.

“(Y/N)!” He shouts. You sigh.

“Fuck off! You wanted to drive so bad, be my guest! Whole car to yourself!” You call back.

“Quit bein’ so damn—“

You whip around, eyes blaring with fury.

“So what? Burdensome? Annoying? Stupid?” You cut him off, recalling some of the insults he had bestowed upon you in the past. “I’m so fucking sick of you! All I ever did was try to be nice to you! And all you ever gave me in return was cruelty!”

You’re shaking now. He’s stopped a few feet away from you, silent as you unleash your pent up frustrations on him.

“You know,” you begin, not as loud and shrilled as before. “I didn’t even want to come help you. Because I knew it would be like this. I only came because I was asked to. So you wouldn’t have to try to carry shit back to the prison and go through more trouble. I didn’t talk to you, I didn’t try to be friendly or otherwise vexing. Yet, somehow, that wasn’t good enough. If my presence alone makes you so miserable, then I’ll walk.”

With that, you turn around and start storming back toward the prison.

“(Y/N)—“ He tries to protest but it just triggers another wave of anger.

“What?!” You throw your hands up. “What did I ever do to you?! Just leave me alone!” You shout, turning back to him. “Why do you hate me?!”

“I don’t hate you!” He fires back.

You scoff and cross your arms. “Sure seems like it.”

“Well if ya would just listen to me I wouldn’t get so mad!”

“I’m not your fucking dog, Dixon! I shouldn’t have to listen to you for you to treat me like a human being.”

“Treat you like what?” He scoffs. “All I ever did was try and look out for ya! Ya can’t do anything right! How the hell am I supposed to keep ya safe if ya can’t follow a simple fuckin’ direction?”

“Look out for me? How? By making me feel like shit about myself? Reminding me every chance you get how much you just can’t fucking stand me? You don’t treat anyone else like that. Nobody.” Your eyes are watering now. The rage is slowly wearing down into what it really is at its core: hurt. He hurt you time and time again and you always tried to make it right, even when you had done nothing wrong. Shit, (Y/N), get it together. Don’t let him see you like this.

“Well why the hell are ya so worried ‘bout what I think?” He asks.

“I don’t know!” You snap, turning away from him again. You hug yourself and sniffle. “Just leave me alone.” You beg quietly. “Go drive yourself back. I’d rather walk.”

He stands there silently, mouth opening and closing like he has words to say but can’t find them in his sea of thoughts. He doesn’t want to make you cry. He doesn’t even know why you piss him off so much. He does know that seeing you there, hugging yourself as your shoulders rise and fall with silent whimpers makes him feel like shit. He steps toward you slowly, reaching out to place a hand on your shoulder. You flinch at his touch and he retracts his arm.

“I don’t hate ya.” He finally speaks. When you don’t respond he realizes he has to continue. “I just don’t want ya gettin’ hurt.”

“Yeah, right.” You mumble. “All you do is hurt me.”

He swallows a dry lump. Is that true?

“I don’t mean to.” He insists. “I just.. Ya don’t belong in this world. You’re nice. Ya ain’t violent, you’re pret—“ He stops. Your ears perk up. Was he about to call you pretty?

“What I’m tryin’ to say is… Ever since I first saw ya I knew ya had to be looked after — kept safe. Ya ain’t like most people. I’d feel too bad if ya… If ya got hurt.” He admits softly. You turn your head a little, peeking behind you to try and catch a glimpse of him.

His hand finds your shoulder again and this time you don’t shrug him away. You sniffle and wipe your eye clean of tears.

“So you’re mean to me to protect me?” You summarize. He realizes how stupid that must sound.

“I just get frustrated when I see how vulnerable ya are. Can’t clean a gun and put it back together, can’t aim to save your life, can’t—“

“Couldn’t.” You correct him. “I couldn’t do those things, but I’ve learned how. You just haven’t been around to see it. Or encourage it.”

He nods. “‘M sorry.” He mumbles. “Maybe you could, uh, show me sometime.”

“Show you what?” You turn back to him.

“Dunno.” He shrugs. It’s a lot harder for him to speak freely when you’re actually looking at him. “What ya can do.”

“Oh.” You nod. “Maybe you could stop being such an asshole.” You suggest.

He smirks a little.

“I can try.”

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xxchumanixx · 6 days

Note

Hii, I have a request Tim Bradford X Grey!reader, I really liked the other one where she is Sergeant Grey’s adoptive daughter.

So basically she is a detective in another station, because you know, conflict of interests since she is his daughter.

she is younger than Tim, so age gap, 25 or so. She is a complete badass fr

and she goes to an undercover mission, a fancy party or something like that, alone. and things kinda get complicated, so the sergeant of the station where she works calls for backup, her father, because they are closer to where she is and also because he thought Wade would want to know his daughter is in danger.

so they get the call, and go to the place, and at first they don’t know she is grey’s daughter. They didn't know he had another daughter and that she was a detective, just because doing this dangerous job he was trying to protect her.

but she was handling things beautifully💅🏻💅🏻, and once they got there she had the suspects under control and was just slightly injured (like her arm idk). And she did it in a dress and in high heels 💅🏻💅🏻. I imagine she would be very sassy like Grey, also kind brag about what she just did. and then she starts flirting with Tim, HARD, in front of everyone and he starts blushing, absolutely melting because of her duh. everyone thought that was it, but no, she then transfers to her father station and from there her and Tim start dating, even if they shouldn’t, so once a few months has passed (and EVERYBODY knew but her father 💀💀, Angela and Nyla were for sure teasing them about it) he goes to Wade and gives up his position (Metro Tim has me in a chokehold 🥵🥵, y/n’s will agree with me for sure, with that cargo pants damn)

and that’s it, sorry it’s pretty long and there are for sure some mistakes, I’m not a native speaker 🥺🥺. Thank u if you will do it ❤️❤️❤️

Give it all

Tim Bradford x Grey!reader

Warnings/Tags: fluff, reader is Grey's daughter, swearing if you squint, canon typical violence

Word count: 3.386

Authors note: Hello love, thanks for the request! I know it's a hell of a lot late, but I didn't get to write it, because you sadly spoilerd me (I was mid season 2 when you sent your request I think) and I didn't even know what you meant with the cargo pants at first😂 But now that I've watched til the end of season 5 (still waiting with bated breath for season 6 to air in Germany with German sync) I can finally write it.

And I know about those cargo pants now and I have to agree with you. Metro Tim is🔥!

Also, I made the reader a little older, just to stay in the possibilities of becoming a detective at a young age (don't know if it's really possible to become one at 25, so she's 27).

Still hope you'll like it, though!

I suck at titles I'm sorry.

Enjoy!

God damn it.

Why did everything you so neatly planned with your team have to go bust?

It was supposed to be an easy mission - get in, get the intel, get out.

Simple as that.

But nothing ever really goes to plan, does it?

Not to mention the dress you were wearing, intoxicating yet so unpractical. Or the heels at your feet, making it all the more harder to fight.

You were worried about the seam of the dress ripping, as you kicked the guard in front of you down to the ground, sending him asleep with a blow to his face.

It was pretty, but so hard to move in.

"Grey, get your ass out of there and wait for backup!" your commander yelled into the small earpiece you were wearing, making you flinch at his high pitched voice.

If you hadn't known his face, you'd mistaken him for a woman.

Swinging at the man in front of you, you hit his jaw, your fist stinging at the harsh contact. The man reeled back, releasing an angry yell, as he made a run for you.

God damn it.

Ducking away from him you kicked at his legs, using the momentum to disbalance him. He stumbled, but managed to catch himself rather quickly, before he pulled a knife out of his boot.

Really?

Groaning inwardly, you tried to avoid the shiny blade, dodging the blow with a jump to the side. It grazed your skin though, a line of blood soon trickling down your left arm.

So much for the dress now being ruined.

The man ran after you, but you pushed a cart into his way. He fell down on it, his weight being his disadvantage, the knife clattering to the ground.

You pinned him down from behind, cuffing him with the binders you'd found earlier. He tried to push you backwards, but you kneed his groin hard, causing him to cry out in agony, as he stopped struggling.

Pushing him to the ground where the other man was lying, you did the same to the unconscious one, tying his wrists together.

"Backup is there!" Granville gave through the earpiece, your eyes rolling at the information.

A bit late, weren't they?

Huffing, you left the men behind, returning to the grand hall where the gala was being held.

Your dress was ruined, stained with the blood that continued to trickle down your arm, dropping to the floor, and your feet hurt.

The room was earily silent, no music or chattering people. Police crowded the room, guns drawn.

You groaned, when you spotted your father amongst them, rolling your eyes for the millionth time this evening.

They watched you, as you walked towards them, your father's eyes widening at the blood. "You're late." you announced loudly, stopping right in front of the aligned officers. "They're in the office back there."

Wade rolled his eyes, motioning for some of the officers to gather the attackers, and for the rest to back down.

God only knew where your constant eye rolling came from.

"Get an ambulance!" he shouted, as the crowd started to disperse, before he walked over to you. Your eyes swiped over the officers, stopping at a particular handsome face.

He was tall, walking towards you and your father, with a female officer on his tail. "Sarge, what about Torres?" he wanted to know, eyes darting to you in curiosity for a brief moment.

Tilting your head, you gave him a once-over. "Didn't know mid Wilshire had such handsome officers." you pointed out, causing his gaze to snap back to yours.

Your father inhaled sharply, not saying anything though. They didn't know you were his daughter, him trying to shield you from threats.

Bradford, as his name tag read, grew a bit red in the face. Clearing his throat, he returned the gesture of giving you a once-over.

"Oh, upstairs are three more guards." you told your father, crossing your arms over your chest. "They should be still asleep, like the ones in the office."

One of his fingers tapped on his waistband, as he tried to calm himself. You were an adult, a detective working at a station farther down the city. You knew what you were doing.

He was still worried as hell, though.

"Good work." he muttered, avoiding to look at you. He couldn't deny that he preferred you to have a normal job, not risking your life when going undercover like this.

Your gaze went back to Sargeant Bradford, the stripes on his sleeves matching your father's. "I'm detective Y/N Grey." you introduced yourself, holding out your non bloody hand for him to shake.

His breath hitched in his throat at the name, still shaking your hand as he introduced himself as well. "Sargeant Tim Bradford."

"I thought we'd talked about this!" your father interrupted you with a hiss, just as your eyes were about to roam the broad figure of Tim Bradford once more.

Rolling your eyes yet again, you smirked at Tim, ignoring the fuming form of your father right beside you. "Nice to meet you."

Some of the other officers where already looking at you, watching the commotion. The woman that had followed Tim - officer Chen - bit her lip to stop from laughing.

Tim's face grew a deeper red in the meantime.

"Are you in a relationship?" you wanted to know, his eyes widening, as your father grabbed your non injured arm, deciding he had enough.

"Look, the ambulance is there." He tried to be calm, his grip harsh though, as he left you no choice but to follow him.

Sending Tim a wink, you smiled. "Hope we'll meet again, sargeant Bradford."

He didn't answer, only watching your retreating figure with deep interest.

_____

After a rather tiresome talk with your father, resulting in both of you shouting at each other, your captain decided to transfer you - to mid Wilshire.

Your father wasn't happy, knowing he'd now have to watch his own daughter getting in harms way.

Things with Tim were getting interesting, after a few weeks had passed.

You'd kept flirting with him, even though he was a bit hesitant at first. Now that you had transferred, everyone knew who's daughter you were.

He didn't want to end on your father's bad side, though still giving into your flirts after a while. Somewhere along the way he'd asked you out on a date.

It resulted in marvelous sex and more dates. It had clicked instantly, things going beautifully between you.

Feelings sparked, soon resulting in a confession.

You'd been walking through the park in the evening, watching the water from a bridge you were standing on.

His arm was around your waist, his warmth engulfing you. You'd been going on dates for two months now, just having left the restaurant. He'd planned to do it in a more romantic way, telling you how he felt.

As the water rippled beneath you, the moon and the lanterns shining down on it, he turned you towards him, your gaze finding his.

"I'm glad you transferred here." he began, taking your hands in his, entwining your fingers. You leaned more into him, heart beating faster in your chest.

"I'm glad we met and I'm glad you still kept flirting with me, even when I was hesitant about it at first." he continued, thumb brushing over your knuckles. "And I'm glad you accepted to go out on a date with me. I really like you, Y/N... I want you to know, that I've grown feelings for you."

He held his breath, waiting for you to respond.

Your lips split in a broad smile, leaning even closer. "Well, I'm glad that you feel this way." you replied, face inching closer. "Because I've grown feelings for you too, Tim."

He sighed in relief, tugging you closer to cover your lips with his. You returned the kiss, his hands on your waist, as yours brushed through his hair, locking behind his neck.

He was like a drug for you.

He'd swept you off his feet when you first saw him, catching your gaze in an instant. For him it was the same, even with the blood that trickled down your arm, the light scar a reminder of the night you met.

_____

"So, when do we get an invitation for a double date?" Angela quipped, stirring her coffee, as she sat down opposite you. Cocking a brow you looked up from your phone, that goofy smile still glued to your face without you noticing.

You'd been texting with Tim, his own shift a later one that had yet to start.

Angela's smile grew warmer, her head tilting. Your brows furrowed at her, confused about the way she was smiling at you.

"Don't act like you don't know what I mean." she told you, eyes narrowing the slightest bit. "It's obvious that you and Tim are dating."

Your cheeks grew warmer, eyes looking down on the table. "Please don't tell my father about it." you asked of her, knowing that denying the obvious wouldn't get you very far.

She huffed in amusement, shaking her head. "Don't worry, I won't tell him."

"Tell whom what?" someone spoke up behind you - Nyla. She poured herself a cup of coffee as well, joining you at the table. "Tell her father that her and Bradford are dating."

Nyla made a dismissive gesture, shaking her head. "Don't worry, it's so obvious, we wouldn't even have to tell him. He'll find out on his own."

Eyes widening, you sat up straighter.

Where you really this obvious?

They must have read your thoughts, snickering into their cups. "It's cute." Angela pointed out, sending you a wink. "But yes, it really is this obvious."

_____

"We can't go on like this." you told Tim the same evening after your talk with Angela and Nyla, forking at the food on your plate.

Tim cocked a brow, wondering what you were talking about. Looking up from your plate, you placed the fork down. "I mean us."

He froze, the pasta falling from his own fork back on the plate, before he placed it down as well. "What do you mean?"

He couldn't shake the fear that suddenly gripped him, eminent in his voice. He'd thought you'd love him?

"We can't keep this a secret anymore." you explained, leaning on your elbows. "Angela and Nyla are constantly teasing me about it. It's obvious, everyone knows except for my father - he would have decapitated me already if he'd know."

His heart stumbled, though relief filled him at your words.

You weren't breaking up with him.

"Then we'll make it official." he proposed, leaning forward as well. You bit your lip, contemplating it. Someday they would find out anyway.

You nodded, sending him a smile. "Let's make it official."

_____

You should have known it would be a bad idea.

You had a deja vu at the way your father was yelling at you, whilst your mother was shaking her head constantly at him.

She knew better than to interrupted him.

It felt like the time you'd set the bathroom on fire, trying to alter a dress of yours when you were young.

Your father had his very own opinion about you trying to be a fashion designer.

You were waiting for him to finish his speech, knee bouncing as you stared at the wall behind him.

He inhaled deeply and you used the opportunity to interrupt him.

"I love him." you told him firmly, standing up from the chair.

Wait, what?

You loved him?

Well, yes, you did.

"I love him and I won't leave him just because you tell me to. You don't like it? Well, you don't have to. I'm an adult, I'm 27 and I can decide on my own. I can choose who I love and who I date, I don't have to ask for your permission."

He was stunned, noticing once more that you were in fact, an adult. You're mother was smiling to herself, never having had any problems with you dating Tim, even if he was a few years older than you.

Wade grumbled something to himself, wondering when you'd grown so much. To him you were still his little girl, he had to protect you.

"I'm okay with leaving mid Wilshire, if I have to. But I won't be leaving Tim." you clarified, crossing your arms over your chest.

He shook his head, wiping over his face with his hand in a tired manner. "Since when are you this grown?" he wanted to know, voice defeated. "You're my little girl, I have to protect you!"

You couldn't help the smile that fought its way onto your lips. "Dad, you don't have to protect me - protect Dom, not me. She's still so young. I'm a grown-up, I can look after myself."

Luna chuckled, agreeing with a tilt of her head. "Our daughter should be free to decide what she wants." she spoke, putting a hand on your father's arm. "Let her date him, don't ruin this for her."

He sighed heavily, head hanging low. Nodding, he looked at his wife, before he looked at you.

"But you're not leaving mid Wilshire."

_____

"I have to." Tim pressured, pecking your lips. "And I want to. Metro is great, it's an opportunity I want to take."

He had proposed to transfer to the metro, after a position had been cleared, giving him a chance he wanted to take. He secretly hoped he'd get the job - it would make things a lot easier and he had thought about it even before you two met.

He'd be going to your father today, giving up his position if the metro was willing to take him in. He'd already talked to their chief, meeting her in a few minutes to discuss things.

You were nervous about it.

Sure, you knew he wanted to go to the metro, but you were worried he'd regret it. But you knew you had to let him do this.

They rest of the day went on like chewing gum.

Whilst you were working on some cases, he talked to the metro. You bad trouble concentrating, Angela soon noticing.

"What's up with you?" she wanted to know, leaning on the small wall that divided your desk and the hallway. Looking up from the papers you'd read three times already, you pushed them aside.

"Tim's trying for a position at the Metro." you told her, leaning your head on your hand. Her eyes widened, letting go of the air inside her lungs. "Wow."

You nodded, biting your lip. "Im happy if he gets the position, but I fear he's doing it because he feels pressured to do." you explained. "I don't want him to regret his decision."

Angela shook her head, adjusting her position. "He won't." she assured you. "Tim knows what he wants. Just as he knows that he wants you. He'd have done everything in his power to ensure that, believe me. If he tries for the position, than it's because he wants to."

You nodded, trying to belive her words.

You really hoped she was right.

_____

Tim wrought his hands nervously, trying to calm his racing heart, before he would face your father.

He had been a bit harsher on Tim since he knew you were dating, but he refused to let it bother him.

Entering the watch commander's office, he braced himself for the conversation ahead of him.

Wade looked up when he entered, putting his pen down and crossing his arms on the desk. "Bradford, what can I do for you?"

Tim closed the door, sitting down on the chair opposite Wade's. "I want to transfer to the Metro." he spoke, getting right to the topic.

Grey's eyes widened - even if he kept a closer eye on him due to the relationship with his daughter, he wasn't willing to give him up that easily.

"Are you sure?" he wanted to know, his eyes wandering to your desk for a brief moment. He couldn't really see you, but he knew you were there - and Angela was as well, still talking to you.

Tim nodded, licking his lip. "I've talked to their chief and their willing to take me in." he explained, swallowing. "I think it's better this way."

Wade rubbed his chin, humming to himself.

"Are you doing this, because you want to, or because you feel forced to?" he inquired, gaze fixed on his Sargeant.

Tim cleared his throat, never breaking eye contact. "Because I want to." he responded. "I was thinking about going to the metro for a while now, not just because of your daughter."

Wade nodded, contemplating.

"Do you love her?"

Tim was taken aback by the question, still nodding fervently. "I do. Why?"

Wade nodded too, looking down on his desk. "Do you plan to marry her?"

Tim choked on his saliva, growing red as he desperately tried to regain his breath. Wade cocked a brow at his flustered face, eyes wide as Tim stared at his watch commander.

"I think it's a bit early for that." Tim gave back, swallowing hard. Wade huffed, leaning back in his chair with crossed arms. "But when the time comes, I would want to."

Wade was pleased to hear that, the smallest smile gracing his lips.

"Well then, if you want to transfer to the metro, I'm sad to see you go but I won't stop you." he told him, sitting more straight again. "It was my honor to be your watch commander."

Tim looked up from his lap, where his eyes had landed moments before, disbelieve evident in his features. Grey sent him a smile, nodding slightly.

"It was my honor, too, Sarge."

_____

You didn't see Tim, before you went home that evening.

Did he get the position?

When he entered his house - you had a key, already having cooked - you couldn't help the impatience that overtook your senses.

"Did you get the position?" you wanted to know, greeting him in the hallway.

He cocked a brow at you, fighting a smirk. "Let me get home first." he chided, shaking his head as the smirk won.

Rolling your eyes, you walked back into the living room, waiting for him to join you at the dining table.

When he did, his hands found your hips, tugging you closer to kiss you. You returned it, sighing contently. He deepened the kiss, but you separated from him.

"Did you get it?"

He rolled his eyes at how impatient you were, but smiled down at you eventually. "I did." You smiled back, happy for him, as you kissed him again.

He smiled into the kiss, before he leaned back. "And I talked to your father."

Your smile fell, a sigh leaving your lips.

"He didn't want to let me go, but he eventually agreed."

Nodding, you bit your lip, the smile slowly returning. You knew that Tim was one of the best at mid Wilshire, and your father knew too.

"Let's eat, baby."

_____

"Damn, those cargo pants make me want to stay instead of going to work."

You bit your lip as you watched him dress, the pants definitely going to be a weak spot for you. He smirked, capturing your lips with his own. "We have to get ready, I don't want to be late on my first day."

The pants in combination with the boots made you go weak in the knees. It was tempting to just seduce him and stay, but you knew he was right.

It didn't mean you wouldn't seduce him later in the evening, though.

"It'll be hard to concentrate when I see you in these pants." you admitted, staring at them. He chuckled, redirecting your gaze with a finger under your chin. "We have to go." he reminded you, grinning.

He had trouble not giving into you and stay as well, so he tried to get you two on your way to work as fast as possible.

You let him walk in front of you, so you could stare at his ass, as he ushered you out of the house.

Damn, those pants would be the death of you.

Tag List

@newobsessionweekly @laheysfilm

@augustvandyne @rookietrek

#the rookie #the rookie imagine #the rookie x reader #the rookie x u #tim bradford #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x you #tim bradford imagine #imagine

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adventuringblind · 5 months

Text

Hidden In Plain Sight

Charles Leclerc x Reader x Max Verstappen

Genre: Angst to fluff

Summary: A misunderstanding about profession leads to fluffy confessions

Warnings: Misunderstandings

Notes: This is what healthy communication looks like... my therapist would be proud

Masterlist

Psychology is one of those things that relies heavily on the power of observation. She isn't going for a doctorate in the subject for nothing. Watching and understanding is something she thrives at.

It's one of the reasons she and Charles have been together for so long. He gets lost trying to communicate and she helps him get to wherever his point is trying to go. She gets stuck over analyzing and he helps her process.

The one thing she's noticed in their time together is Max. Charles is his number one fan. It's a given, undeniable fact that she has come to love. Every interaction they have leaves Charles a mess and he's admitted to having a crush on the Dutch.

She doesn't mind one bit. Sure, her and Max might not be close, but they've had a few conversations here and there. If the human heart was only made to love one person then earth would be a sad place.

She's not surprised when Charles comes running up to her one day looking disheartened. He'd been talking about Max and his struggles. Specifically, the fact that sometimes Max gives hints of information just to shut down again.

Hence Charles asking Max to hang out more often. Specifically with her because where Charles fails in his responses, she knows how validate the small pieces Max gives them into his head.

She was never intentionally hiding what she does, she just didn't say anything about it and neither had Charles. Max had been adamant about not receiving help because he's fine and the two didn't want him to think tlthat she was going to be pulling tricks out of her sleeve. All they want is to make sure he knows that people care about him.

Max ends up coming around more often then not. She finds him around the paddock and makes sure to tell him goodluck. They go out to dinner and stay up in the living room playing games til ungodly hours in the morning.

Until Max found out. It was inevitably going to happen at some point. How is she supposed to keep masters, soon to he doctorate, in psychology hidden. Especially considering how close the three were becoming. She just wished it wouldn't have been the way it happened.

A knock at the apartment door alerts them close to midnight. They were in bed, ready to sleep and incredibly cozy.

Charles stumbles out first. A look of concern in his eyes as it could be a friend with an emergency. Which isn't wrong. Technically speaking.

She falls out of bed when the Dutch accent of Max fills her ears. It's angry at something and she's nervous Charles is about to get the brunt of whatever triggered Max.

She hops out of bed and scurried down the hall. "Max?"

His eyes are red and bloodshot. Muscles tense and rigid with squared shoulders. He's defensive. "You lied to me!"

Charles is standing like a dear in headlights. He looks clueless and lost on what to do. "Max, please-"

"What did we lie about, Max?" She gently takes a few steps closer to Charles and taps the Monegasque on the shoulder. A signal that he can relax a bit. Well - more like needs to for her sanity. She'd rather not have this escelate any more then it is.

"A psychology degree? When we're you planning on telling me?" His voice cracks. "Our whole relationship is a lie! Was this sone kind of sick ploy to use whatever I said against me, Charles? Using your girlfriend to get into my head?!"

She looks at him in understanding. "I can explain everything in the way you deserve, if you'll let me?"

Max reluctantly takes a seat in the living room. It's comfortable here. Less formal then the dining room table.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"That was my idea and I apoligize for that." She starts and Max seems to relax a little when he sees he apologetic look. It was never Charles' idea. "I wanted you to feel comfortable around me without you thinking I was trying to look into your head. Charles had wanted to become better friends and that included me being around more. I didn't want to ruin what you two have because of my profession."

Max's gaze becomes infinitely softer. His lips part just a tad and his eyes have a glossy screen over them.

Charles takes a deep breathe and she places a hand on his knee. A gentle reminder she's there with him. "The truth is, Max-" he shudders a but before continuing. "-I've liked you for a very long time. It was selfish of me to want to get closer to you. You just seemed so down recently I wanted you to feel cared for because I truly do care for you - both of us do."

"Both of you?"

"Yeah... the more I got to know you the more I could see what Charles sees." She laughs a bit at herself.

"I'm sorry I jumped to conclusions. I was just so upset that you didn't tell me. I - I guess I felt betrayed because I like you both. No, wait, we're being honest here right?" Both her and Charles nod him along in encouragement. Max looks at the ceiling, then the floor, then back to them. "I think I love you both? It's weird to think about, loving two people at once. I wasn't sure how I felt until I heard and then I realized how angry I was that I'd been played. And I just - I want you to know that I appreciate how kind you both have been to me. Maybe, if you're both willing, we could give this a try?"

Charles' eyes go wide. She thinks that he may pass out in shock until he starts talking. "We're cuddling. I don't care what either of you say. I think we all need it."

It may not have been the best way for Max to find out, but it led them here. Max comfortably tucked into the middle of the bed, all of them knowing how cared for they truly are.

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caashmoneynae · 5 months

Text

HALFTIME.

JORDAN POOLE x BLACK!FEM!OC

SUMMARY: in which Teja goes to one of Jordan's games and ends up engaging in sexual activity in the locker room. ✨

❦

"𝗜 𝗞𝗡𝗢𝗪 𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗧'𝗦 𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧, 𝗕𝗔𝗕𝗬!" Teja exclaimed, a smile on her face, as her dark brown eyes sparkled at seeing Jordan make a three-pointer and she clapped her hands loudly, the area she was sitting in erupting in loud cheers while she watched her man and his team travel down the basketball court.

(A/N: pronounced 'TEA•JUH')

"let's go, Poole!" Monaé, Teja's best friend, exclaimed, hyping the man up and boosting his ego, as she and Teja smiled in sync and they watched their team play defense.

the teams were in the second quarter and there were only 5 minutes left on the clock. the Golden State Warriors had 56 points — leveling up from 53 due to Jordan's shot — and their opponent had 53 points, diminishing their tied score and causing both crowds of fans to get antsy since halftime was coming up and they wanted their team to be in the lead.

Teja and Monaé both dressed in Golden State Warriors apparel, but Teja's was more customized because Monaé did it for her. her shirt was long-sleeved and royal blue and on the left side of her chest, it said "Basketball Girlfriend" as "Warriors" sat on her left sleeve. on the back of the shirt, it read "Poole Belongs to Me" and under it read his jersey number as all of the words were spelled in gold letters since royal blue and gold were two of the team's colors.

her brown legs adorned black jeans and her feet held white Air Force 1's as a gold anklet dangled around her left ankle and gold hoops sat in both of her ears, a gold 'T' necklace sitting comfortably around her neck while a gold necklace that read 'Jordan' in cursive sat there as well. her black silk-pressed hair was side-parted and swooped to the right side as a few bobby-pins sat in her head to make sure her swoop stayed in place, her lips glossy with Vaseline and adding a 'pop' to her appearance.

it was clear as day that Teja knew she looked good, and though she preferred silver jewelry over gold, she always made sure to wear some gold to all of Jordan's games.

hearing cheers, Teja's eyes averted to the clock, and she realized that not only was there one minute left before halftime, but the other team had tied with the Warriors for a second time. she looked back at the court and her gaze intensified as she lightly chewed on her bottom lip, the time running down quickly while the Warriors traveled down the court with the ball.

Draymond Green passed the ball to Stephen Curry, and Stephen passed the ball to Gary Payton II, and Gary passed the ball to Jordan, who passed the ball to Andrew Wiggins. it seemed as if the time was only winding down quicker and quicker, and this caused Teja's palms to grow sweaty while her eyes flickered between the clock and the court.

as if on cue with the clock hitting 10 seconds, Andrew began making his way to the basket, swiftly dodging the opponents that tried to stop him while his teammates played excellent defense, as he suddenly jumped up and dunked on the men below him, the ball going through the net with ease and the buzzer sounding out into the lively court while Teja and the other fans began cheering.

"can't wait 'til our boys take home that dub, Mo'!" Teja smiled, the two women standing up from the stands, as Monaé smiled with her and the two began to walk down the staircase behind the other fans.

"girl, who you tellin'? one more win and we goin' to the playoffs, baby! ooh, i can't wait to celebrate!" Monaé smiled, holding onto Teja's hand so they wouldn't be separated by the large crowd, as Teja looked up at the scoreboard and read '58-56', making her smile slightly widen while she looked back at Monaé and the duo made their way to the concession stands.

"oh yeah, we fa'sho' gon' celebrate this win. and then after that... i'ma give my baby his reward, ya feel me?" Teja smirked, playfully raising her brows, as Monaé laughed and shook her head, playfully shoving the woman's shoulder while Teja laughed.

"T, you a trip! but i feel you, girl, no doubt." Monaé smirked as Teja stuck out her tongue and the two did their handshake, their pinkies locking at the end while they giggled.

"ooh, hold up. Mo', hold my purse, i'ma go to the bathroom real quick," Teja announced, taking her phone out of it and putting it in her pocket, "i'll be right back before halftime ends."

"you sure you don't want me to go with you?" Monaé asked, grabbing the purse from the woman's hand and slinging it over her shoulder.

"nah, you good, 'Naé, i'on want you to lose your place in line," Teja assured, looking down and checking the time on her Apple Watch, as she looked up at Monaé and gave her a small smile in reassurance, "make sure to buy me some nachos, mama! you know how i like 'em."

"will do, Mrs. Poole!" Monaé smirked playfully, watching Teja jog away from her, as Teja laughed and shook her head, a wide smile on her face while she made her way to the restrooms.

the farther Teja was from the crowd of fans, the more the loud sounds of them began to turn into low murmurs, and she tucked her phone into the back pocket of her jeans as she made her way to the woman's bathroom. before she could walk into the restroom, however, a large hand grabbed her by the arm and yanked her into a room, making her squeal out of surprise, as she watched the door to the room shut and she saw lockers in the corner of her eye, making her realize she had been yanked into the Golden State Warriors's locker room by no one other than Jordan.

"you know i hate when you do that shit!" Teja exclaimed, punching the man in his arm, as Jordan laughed at her and pressed her up against the door, kissing her lips while he sneakily locked the door.

"you still love me tho', girl," Jordan chuckled, a small smirk on his face, as he eyed her down and ran his tongue over his plump lips at the sight of her attire, "mm, you look good. who you lookin' this good for, baby?"

"nobody but my man," Teja smiled, cupping his face in her hands, as she placed a few pecks on his lips before giggling, "now why you bring me in here? you got 8 minutes left before it's time for you to go back on the court."

Jordan didn't respond to her question. instead, his smirk only widened, and his nonverbal answer immediately clicked in Teja's mind as to why she was pulled into the room so abruptly.

"uh-uh, Jordan, i know you not tryna'..." Teja trailed off, raising a brow, as Jordan chuckled softly and his brown eyes looked into her dark brown ones while lust started to cloud his pupils.

"oh, i'm definitely tryna'..." Jordan smirked, mimicking her past statement, as he let out a low chuckle of mischievousness before kissing her lips, the kiss oozing with passion and causing Teja to procrastinate on kissing him back while his hand latched around her neck and pulled her closer to him.

falling into the temptation rather quickly, Teja kissed Jordan back and she soon melted into the kiss, making his lips curl up into a smirk, as he let go of her neck and tugged at the waistband of her jeans, pulling away from the kiss and trailing wet kisses down her jawline while Teja's breathing turned uneven due to rising arousal.

"you movin' real slow like we ain't got a lot of time in here." Teja breathily mumbled, kicking off her shoes, as Jordan chuckled softly and his hand slipped into her pants before he swiftly removed them and made sure her phone remained unharmed.

"i know what i'm doin', mama," Jordan muttered, his voice slightly deeper due to sexual desire running through his veins, as goosebumps spread across Teja's skin at the tone of his voice and Jordan noticed this, a smirk crossing his lips while he placed a few wet kisses on her neck before tapping her left thigh, "jump."

wrapping her legs around his waist, the two kissed for a final time before Jordan hoisted her up onto his shoulders, carefully lifting her smooth legs onto his muscular biceps while she lightly scooted up on the smooth wooden door so her hips would be level with his face.

it was definitely safe to say that this wasn't their first rodeo.

"pull these to the side for me, princess." Jordan spoke lowly, his eyes flickering up to her, as Teja bit down on her bottom lip and gripped the right side of her panties, pulling them to the side and revealing her soaked sex while Jordan licked his lips at the sight.

not wasting any of the short time they had left, Jordan immediately dug in, his pink lips wrapping around her swollen bud while he gently sucked at it like he was a baby and her clitoris was his pacifier. moaning softly, Teja gently laid her head against the door as she ran her fingers over Jordan's head, her brows slightly furrowing while his hands squeezed her thick brown thighs.

"sh-shit, Jordan," Teja moaned airily, her brows slightly furrowing, as she felt his tongue slither and wiggle inside her folds and her hips lightly jolted against his face, "mmh, eat this pussy, Daddy... eat your pussy just like that, baby."

"like that, mama? hm?" Jordan hummed against her, sending vibrations through her core and up her spine, as Teja shakily whimpered and her back slightly arched off of the door, her grip on her underwear tightening while she rubbed the nape of her boyfriend's neck.

"yessss— o-oh, shit!" Teja gasped, feeling his middle and ring fingers slide inside her walls, as her palm gently smacked the door she was pinned up against and her eyes rolled back, feeling soft kisses be littered around both of her inner thighs while her juices began to drip down Jordan's hand.

moans, whimpers, and whines fell from Teja's two-toned lips and sounds of her gushiness aired out into the room as her eyes fluttered closed and her hand moved from the nape of his neck to his hand on her right thigh, gently squeezing it while she shakily exhaled. Jordan's fingers thrusted inside of the woman at a slow and semi-deep pace and he laid kisses around her vagina, occasionally laying some on her clit and causing her hips to jolt.

suddenly, Jordan's fingers curved, and Teja's whole body jolted as tingles almost immediately dispersed through her body, her grip on Jordan's hand tightening while she gasped loudly.

"oh, fuck, t-that's my spot!" Teja cried, feeling Jordan's hand slither underneath her shirt, as he pulled one of her breasts out of her bra and kneaded it in his palm, his index and middle fingers fiddling with and tugging at her sensitive nipple and earning feeble whimpers from her parted lips.

"right there? huh, pretty?" Jordan cooed, his eyes staring up at her with a combination of lust and mischief, as Teja vigorously nodded her head and her eyes rolled back, "ooh, you 'bout to cum, ain't you, baby? i feel that pretty pussy clenching, mama, you 'bout to wet my face up?"

Teja felt the pace of his fingers start to pick up and each thrust had him poking at her g-spot as her stomach muscles tightened and she let go of Jordan's hand, her hand sliding underneath her shirt and gripping her second breast out of intense pleasure while she practically gripped the life out of her underwear. her thighs began to tremble and her lips rested agape as Teja suddenly gasped and her stomach caved in, her body jolting and her brows furrowing while her legs locked on the man's shoulders.

"y-yes! oh, yes, yes, yes— fuck, baby, i-i'm cummin'!" Teja whined loudly, her hips grinding against his fingers, as Jordan laid his tongue out flatly and caught her nectar atop his pink muscle, causing a shiver to go down Teja's spine while she rode out her orgasm.

"there you go, beautiful. ride that nut out." Jordan cooed, a small smirk on his face, as he licked his lips and gently pulled his fingers out of her erogenous walls, slipping them in his mouth while he sucked her juices off of them and looked up at her.

sighing softly, Teja raised her head from the door and looked down at Jordan, noticing the smirk on his face instantly, as she let out a soft laugh and shook her head, removing both of their hands from underneath her shirt while she put her breast back into its cup.

"we ain't never doin' this again." Teja chuckled softly, letting go of her underwear, as Jordan chuckled and lowered her legs back down to his waist, her legs loosely locking around his hips while he kissed her lips.

"You know damn well this shit gon' happen again, T."

#x black fem reader #x black reader #black girl beauty #smut #jordan poole #nba #oc #one shot #black stories #black culture #black community #black love #black people

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ggwritesstuff · 2 years

Note

heyyy i have this request for like 1970 elvis or something like that, or basically any one you feel like writing for … can you do a fic where elvis and the reader are together and right before a show they’re basically like begging for him but he has to go on and the reader gets upset and frustrated and so they let someone flirt with them in the crowd during the show and they can tell he saw them bc he started acting really different and sarcastic on stage and then afterwards he gets really jealous and basically drags you to his car on the way back home and while you’re in the car he does like one thing like maybe getting really close to them in the car with like a rough, angry voice and the reader has an orgasm and he acts differently than you’ve ever seen him and when you get home he does like everything to you bc he knows he’s the only one who can ever truly please you???

Safety.

pairing: elvis x reader

warnings: absolute filth. smut. 18+ mdni. reader is a major brat. elvis has a jealousy kink problem. some degradation. elvis is a major tease. mild fem masturbation. some face fucking. creampie lol. a little bit of elvis being in his feelings. one tiny mention of infidelity. prob missing some so as always please read at your own discretion <3

a/n: 70s elvis does absolutely sinful things to me. i am a whore. thank u anon. i am sweating. i am feral. this is very long. like i said my smuts are always slow burns for some reason lol. i think this is the filthiest thing i have ever written. it got a bit fluffy at the end.

a/n part 2: i don’t proofread or else i’ll delete everything and never write again lol enjoy and pls excuse any errors. feedback is always encouraged, and i hope i did your idea justice anon <3

You felt pathetic.

You were pathetic.

But you couldn’t help it. He just had this affect on you that made you feel like a bitch in heat.

You basically had him pinned against the door of his dressing room, your legs wrapped around his torso and holding on for dear life while your face was nuzzled into the crook of his neck. The angle made it so easy to reach that one spot on his neck you knew he couldn’t resist giving into.

“E.P., five minutes ‘til curtain, let’s move.” A stage hand knocked on the door.

“Darlin’ please, I gotta go, alright?” Elvis pried you off of him, setting you back on your feet. “I love how much you want me, baby, but I can’t be goin’ out there as hard as a rock and end up messing another suit.” He joked, alluding to the incident of his comeback special.

“Fine, go.” You huffed, your sexual frustration seemed to get the better of you in the moment.

“Don’t be catchin’ an attitude with me. I’ll take care of you later, I promise.” He said sternly, cupping your cheek with his hand to pull you in for a quick kiss before running out of the room, only a minute to spare until the show began.

You were pissed. You know you shouldn’t have been, but you couldn’t help it. He always left you such a desperate mess for him, you were starting to think he got off on denying you.

His dramatic introduction echoed throughout the area. You turned to the mirror behind you to fix yourself up before you headed out to watch him perform. You stopped at the bar for a drink before going to your table, lord knew you needed one to keep your composure for the next hour.

Vodka soda in hand, you made your way to your seat to join the rest of the Memphis Mafia. You watched from the crowd as the man you adored moved in ways that created thoughts you were sure would bar you from the gates of heaven. You were entirely hypnotized by him.

He knew damn well what he was doing to you, too. He glanced in your direction, locking eyes with you as he let out such an obscene grunt that gave you flashbacks to the night before. You felt a flutter between your thighs as you recalled those events.

It’s like you both were playing a game of chicken, waiting to see who would snap first.

Your arousal began to feel overwhelming, your cheeks burned up when you felt yourself clenching around nothing. You stood from your seat on weak, shaky legs and made your way back to the bar where it was a bit less humid. The bartender brought you another drink and you sat on the stool, turned around to continue watching Elvis on stage.

Suddenly, a tall figure appeared in your peripheral vision, taking a drink from the bartender. “How’s the show been?” He asked, subtly biting at his lower lip.

“Oh, it’s been good.” You said, not really paying him much mind.

“I’m Collin.” He extended his hand, inviting you for a handshake.

You were still so aroused by Elvis’s little torturous game that even a handshake from a man of average attractiveness set your nerves ablaze.

“Y/N, nice to meet you.” You looked up at him with innocent doe eyes, giving him the look that would have had Elvis bending you over the bar making you scream his name. You tried to push the thought out of your mind, focusing back on Collin.

You would never cheat on Elvis, though. This little back and forth with Collin was simply some harmless flirting. Just a little something to get Elvis riled up. You knew he was constantly scanning the room in search for you, you caught his eyes a handful of times in your conversation with Collin.

The night went on until the last song of Elvis’s set, his eyes were glued to you and Collin for the duration of it. You turned your head to meet his gaze, you’d never seen him as green with jealousy as he was in that moment. You decided it was time to head backstage before the song ended so you said goodnight to Collin, placing a hand on his broad shoulder as you walked away and practically having a staring contest with Elvis on stage. You already knew you were in for it tonight anyways.

You made your way backstage again, watching from the side as the curtain fell in front of Elvis. He rose from his kneeled stance and beelined right towards you.

“Let’s go.” He said sternly in your ear, his hand was placed on the small of your back, ushering you forward as he shouted a general goodnight to the crew. Security opened the back door for him and he lead you to the car, opening the door for you.

“What the hell was all that at the bar?” He asked as he climbed in. He was trying to keep his composure but you could see right through it. He was furious. You had him right where you wanted him. You shrugged in response as you tried to keep your lips from curling into a smirk, but he saw right through that.

“That’s how you want this to go tonight?” Elvis raised an eyebrow at you. “Y’know, baby, I was gonna go real easy on you tonight. I was gonna make love to you.” He placed a hand on your thigh, squeezing it harshly as he started the car. “But I don’t think that’s what you want. I mean, why would my angel go and act like a little slut if she didn’t want to be treated like one, right?”

You were already soaked when he swiftly shoved two long, calloused fingers in you. The sudden feeling of fullness caught you off guard, but it was more than welcomed. Your back arched away from the seat and a high pitched whine escaped your lips.

He chuckled at your reaction, curling his fingers inside you and turning you into putty in his hands. “Fuckin’ drenched. This for me or for the guy you were makin’ googly eyes with at the bar, huh?”

“All for y-you, El. Been soaked all night cause of you.” You admitted, clinging to the seat for stability as Elvis continued to work his fingers in you as he drove home, his other hand gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles went white. He was pissed, and you couldn’t have been more turned on.

Elvis threw the car in park as soon as he pulled into the driveway. He stepped out and walked around to open your door because he’s still a gentleman despite his jealousy fueled rage and the ever tightening of his pants as his own arousal grew. Without words, he offered his hand to assist you in getting out of the car.

Once you were on your feet, he stopped you before you could walk inside. “Here’s how this is gonna go, darlin’. You’re gonna take those panties off and give ‘em to me. You’re gonna walk inside and I’m gonna take that cute little dress of yours, and you’re gonna go wait on the bed for me.” Elvis explained. You were a bit shocked by this level of dominance from him. He always had a bit of a dominant edge to him in the bedroom but this was different. It was exciting.

“Yes, sir.” You said quietly, biting on your lower lip.

“Panties now, please.” He demanded, holding his hand out as he waited for you to peel them off and place them in his hand. He toyed with the fabric between his fingers, feeling just how damp you had been all night. “What got you all wet and needy, princess?”

“Just watching you all night.” You breathed out as he ushered you in the house and unzipped your dress, letting it fall to the floor. Before you could go upstairs to wait for him like he said, he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you flush against him. He went in for your neck, and instead of the sensual kisses you were used to, you felt his teeth biting at the skin, letting your blood rise to the surface and coloring your skin, drawing a moan from you.

“Upstairs. I’ll come up when I come up. No touching.” He stated, calm yet still stern. A light smack on your ass nudged you upstairs.

Now upstairs and waiting like he said to, you debated with yourself on whether you wanted to be good for him or be a brat. You were still a bit annoyed with him for leaving you all hot and bothered before the show. That was enough to make up your mind. Brat it was.

With your mind now made, you got yourself comfy on your shared bed, legs spread wide as you disobeyed Elvis’s order not to touch yourself. You wanted to push his buttons a bit tonight, and you were desperate for any stimulation you could get. You trailed your fingers down to your core, gathering some of your wetness and gliding a finger around your clit. You almost could have came right there from how turned on you were. Quietly at first, whimpers tumbled from your lips, but your volume increased as your pleasure did.

Elvis’s footsteps were heavy coming up the staircase, you could hear him grumbling something under his breath until he reached the bedroom. “My god, you’re like a bitch in heat. Too damn turned on to keep your hands outta that pussy.” He scolded, you could only moan in response to his degrading words as you watched him remove the robe he had changed into after sending you upstairs. Standing only in his boxers, he made his way over to you on the bed, taking your hand away from your clit and prohibiting any further pleasure for the moment, ignoring your whining protests.

“Kneel on the floor, gonna put that mouth to good use.” He ordered, pulling his cock out from his boxers and giving it a few strokes while you assumed your position at his feet with your mouth open. “Look at you, such a good slut for me.” Elvis marveled at the sight beneath him, tangling his fingers in your hair as you took as much of him in your mouth as you could. “Fuckin’ shit.” He groaned out as the warmth of your mouth enveloped him as much as possible. With hollowed cheeks you continued to take him as deep as you can, gagging around his length when he hit the back of your throat.

“Hold on-“ He muttered, stilling your movements. You stared up at him with those doe eyes that drove him to the brink of insanity with his cock still in your mouth, running your tongue around whatever surface of skin you could. “Shit, doll- Lemme fuck your pretty face.” He managed to get out. You gave him a slight nod allowing him to use you as he pleases.

Just like that, he was animalistic. He used your hair as leverage as he mercilessly thrusted himself into your mouth, relishing the feeling when you would swallow around him. Strings of profanities left his plump lips before pulling out, his tip left your lips with a small pop. You whined at the loss, but he brought a hand to cup your cheek, gently stroking your face with the pad of his thumb and sucking on it when he ghosted it against your lips.

“C’mon, up on the bed.” Elvis offered his hand again to help you up from the floor. He sat you down on the silky soft bedsheets, resting his hand on your thigh once again. “Tell me something- you ever think about goin’ and finding another man?” He asked, laying you down gently.

“No, sir. Just want you.” You confessed, beginning to squeeze your thighs together for some sort of friction as your desperation continued to grow.

“Why is that, doll? You love me?” Elvis asked, sneaking his hand down to pry your legs apart, letting his fingers drag themselves through your folds and smirking to himself at the feeling of your wetness and the way you writhed under his touch. “Or is it cause you know ain’t no other man can make you this messy just barely touching you?”

Something about that question did something to you. He was right. He knew he was right. This man could play you like a fiddle without even touching you. “B-both.” You stuttered while Elvis indulged himself in toying with your pussy that was now unbelievably sensitive due to how aroused you were. You were already overstimulated, seemingly just by his mere presence.

“Tell me, mama. You tell me I’m the only one who could make you cum just by listening to me gruntin’ and groanin’ up on stage and I’ll give you the world.” He said sweetly, teasing his middle finger at your entrance before filling you with it and making you cry out.

His demeanor had softened compared to earlier, he was calmer, not as angry. But he was still jealous that you had given Collin more attention than you did to his show, and this was his way of getting the reassurance he craved. This was how he was finding the security he feared losing.

“The only one, Elvis, please.” You were begging for more at this point.

“That’s right, mama. ” He cooed in your ear, removing his fingers from you and positioning himself between your legs that were now shaking. Elvis lined himself up with your entrance, enjoying the sight and sound of you all strung out under him, all strung out for him, whimpering for him.

Without warning, he snapped his hips forward, plunging into you with a groan. You cried out as he filled you, hands instinctively flying to his back where your nails anchored themselves for stability as he rutted into you. His thrusts were desperate, it was almost as if he was trying to get even closer than just being inside you.

The last several hours you had spent so hungry for him were coming to a head, the coil in your belly had been wound up so tightly, you worried that he would have you cumming around him in less than two minutes.

“Don’t you ever go ‘round thinking you’ll get this feeling from another man.” Elvis said as he wrapped his hand around your throat with just enough pressure to dizzy you, filling you with ecstasy.

“All yours, El, I promise.” You panted while he fucked himself into you, muttering under his breath about his good little slut as he lost himself in between thrusts. His sweat dripped from his forehead and onto your chest, a slight sheen blanketed your breasts.

“That’s right, angel. All mine.” His thrusts turned sloppy as soon as he reached between your hot bodies to paw at your clit, you were squeezing his cock like a vice and he wasn’t sure he could last much longer.

He slowed his pace while he toyed with your clit, savoring the sensation of how you clenched up around him; it nearly sent shivers down his spine. The pressure and speed he applied to your clit combined with the way he was hitting that sweet spot within you with each stroke brought you right to the edge, verging on tumbling off at any moment now.

“l- fuck, I’m close-“ You managed to form the words, you could hardly recognize your own voice.

Elvis lifted his head from the crook of your neck for a moment. “Go ‘head, and cum for me, doll”. He allowed, increasing the speed of his thrusts again as he neared his own climax. “Cum for me like I’m the only one who can make you cum, cause that’s right, isn’t it?”

And oh god, did that do you in. His desire to be the only one for you. You clutched his strong arm as your orgasm tore through you; chanting his name like a prayer, like it was the only word in your vocabulary. Elvis was right behind you on that ledge, toppling over along with you. His hips stuttered in you as your walls contracted around him and he found his sweet, sweet release spilling inside you with a strangled moan. You rode your orgasms out together, his hips slowing as you squeezed around him, overstimulating him just a bit until he pulled out and collapsed next to you.

Your chests heaved in time, glistening with each others sweat as you caught your breath. Elvis regressed into a bit of a vulnerable state. “Don’t go pullin’ that shit again, darlin’. Can’t be letting my girl get swept away from me.” He mumbled into your skin as he nuzzled himself into your bare chest.

“I know, honey, I’m sorry.” You lovingly stroked his hair that was now laced with sweat. “You’ll always be the only one for me, I promise.” You reassured him with a kiss to his forehead. Elvis snaked his arm around your waist, beginning to drift off to asleep. You followed not far behind him, wrapped up in each other’s embrace.

This was safety. This was security.

#elvis presley #elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley fic #elvis fluff #elvis presley smut #elvis presley fluff #elvis 2022 #austin butler #austin!elvis x reader #austin butler x reader #austin butler smut #austin butler fluff #austin!elvis

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malebodyexhibit · 1 year

Text

A Master and his Toys (a Next Door Boy tale)

Possession is the typical service provided by NDB, but that’s for people with no imagination. You have access to dozens of straight, fit, young men and you don’t want to be their masters? Sure you can take over someone’s body and fuck twinks ’til your cock and balls are dry. Or, you can rent 3 dumb, blond, straight jocks and have the agency adjust their behavior.

This 19-year-old twunk is a business major from Texas. I call him Rosebud. He’s your standard Republican trust fund baby who couldn’t hack it in university and got cut off from his parents. He drifted from girlfriend to girlfriend, mooching off them and cheating behind their backs. Eventually, he ended up as talent for NDB. He didn’t want to be possessed by some gay guy, but he was up for a minor reprogramming via his implant. I told him it was an obedience mod and pleasure mod. The pleasure mod being a love for gay sex. Now he loves showing off his body. I often kiss his neck when he’s being a good boy. He loves when I buy him a new jock strap. He can be a bit too much sometimes. For example, when I’m trying to watch the game, he crawls beside me and grinds himself against me. I sometimes just decide to give him a quick fuck. He doesn’t mind if he doesn’t cum, as long as he gets to feel me explode in him, but sometimes I just turn off his mods so he returns to his straight jock mind. He gets so embarrassed and tries to cover himself up, but a kiss from me and his love for attention kicks back into gear. When I’m at work, I have the other guys top him so he doesn’t get too lonely.

I call this one Jack-O. He’s a 28-year-old personal trainer from Colorado. He’s pretty easy going unlike Rosebud. He wanted to work for NBD but not have anyone else in control of his mind and body. He consented to a pleasure mod though. I told him it would just work on his drive for working out. He’d still be in his body, controlling his decisions. That much was true, but I had him have a strong lust for my workout musk. After a tough workout, I toss him my sweat-soaked gear so he can lick it clean. I had to tie his arms up because he kept pulling my socks and underwear off. I spent a few days in my house completely naked ‘cause he just strips me and slobbers on my clothes. If I don’t shower quickly enough, he pounces on me and gives me a tongue bath. Because this is so closely tied to sex, he drips precum around the house and I have to be careful where I step. He’s almost always erect, but I had him unable to ejaculate until I stroked him myself. Otherwise, he’d just be spraying the house in his spunk. Jack-O has a fiancé, but he agreed to a no-contact during his contract duration. Yet that seemed heartless of me, so I sometimes have Rosebud wear his fiancé’s perfume then have Jack-O mount him to workout his sexual frustrations. I have, of course, turned off Jack-O’s mods so I could see his confusion as he’s sniffing my used underwear and his horror at his tied up body and his erect, dripping cock.

Spot is his name. This 33-year-old mechanic from Colorado joined NDB for easy money like everyone else. He highly values his body and mind, so he also chose to not be possessed. He’s a straight bachelor who used to bring home a woman. He’d treat her right and flirt for a week, but he’d cut them loose after things get too comfortable. I asked him about mods, and he didn’t have a problem with it. He just wanted to make sure he didn’t do gay shit. So I gave him a perception mod. He believes me, Rosebud, and Jack-O are women. I also tweaked with his pleasure mod and and obedience mod. Spot does all the chores in the house. He sweeps (hence, ‘you missed a spot’), mops up Jack-O’s happy trail on the floor, spots the other two during their workout to keep their rock hard bodies. He also tops them so he can keep himself happy. He loves to eat out their pussy (really it’s their cocks) and pound their pussy (their ass) and fondle their breasts (pecs). If I didn’t tape his mouth, he’d just ramble on and on since he just wants to prove how smart he is. With Spot, I never turn off his mod, but I do find myself blowing him. He thinks I’m one of his many female conquests, so it’s sweet to have him wrap his arms around me, but even sweeter to have him on all fours sweeping dirt from under the couch.

So that’s my collection. I’m not overly malicious. Everything was written out in the fine print. If they read carefully, they’d know what each mod entailed. NDB fully requires consent. At the end of their service (like one month), they’ll be returned to their normal mental state. But in the past, many prefer their new simpler lives.

#male body #male takeover #gay male story #slave #mental change #male hypnosis #male mindcontrol #male body exhibit #a next door boy tale #next door boy #straight to gay

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littledollll · 1 year

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Breeding kink with Luci 👀 creative reign bby

One hell of a welcome

Lucifer x champion!reader

A/n: for context Angels are genderless, and they can freely shift between sex as they please, I stand by my statement. Dicks are hard to write about.

Warnings: kinda silly with a lil dark? Reader has a Harley Quinn personality in the beginning and likes being gory, Lucifer loving that, breeding kink, praise, degradation, powerbottom Lucifer, daddy Lucifer?, throne room sex, ooc Lucifer? bc fuck it (literally), dirty talk, kinda mean dom!lucifer, exhibitionism

Beelzebub really needed to give up on challenging you.

Up til now you have rejected the idea of a fight but recently the idea of making a proposal the next time he did seemed just too sweet, you didn’t think the prideful idiot would agree, neither did Lucifer in all honesty, when they challenged you this time after they set their same prize “if I win, you serve me instead of Lucifer” as if you worked for them? You agreed regardless, just for the amusement of it. “You know what I’m in a humbling mood, I’ll do it! but when I win, you give me your third part of hell, and maybe your skull.” You sounded amused, which was just a little concerning for the demon challenging you.

Lucifer cracked a very proud smile, it sure would be lovely to rule along your side officially, maybe your get rid of Azazel together too. “Are we sure that’s even allowed-“ Beelzebub looked around the room, waiting for somebody to say you couldn’t. Waiting for Lucifer or Azazel to defend him but all he got was a head tilt from Lucifer, examining him. “So Beelzebub, do you accept the terms of this challenge?” You ask dryly, sick of waiting for his jaw to snap back into place.

“Ambitious thing, you are. And dumb, very dumb. I accept your terms, ‘your majesty’” he replied mockingly, that cocky tone wasn’t gonna help him in any way. “You have a smart mouth, but can you hold your own against me without the help of the Morningstar?” He spat. “Are you proposing a ability based game, Beelzebub? And you say I am the dumb one..” you trail off.

The fight was over in seconds. You got the first move as the challenged, your very much useful ability, agony, making this a swift fight, with your simple command Beelzebub was brought to his knees. “Nobody said anything about pacing, right? Fair game?” You looked around the room, casually as Beelzebub succumbed to the pain, the few present had no complaints.

He had to call it though, the match would last as long as he held off, Beezelbub could chose to continue suffering until one of you tired and ended him or give up. “I will literally drive you insane, Kay? Just give up already I’m bored.”

“Beezelbub, stop making a fool of yourself and call it.” Said Azazel, sounding just annoyed.

You were sat on the floor near him. “Do u want me to help you? I’ll take myself out and everything!” He seemed to be annoyed by your teasing for some reason. “This is really sad, remind me again why and how he was allowed to co-rule?” You giggled then stoped smiling suddenly very serious and looked at him tilting your head. “I think I won, so I’m gonna stop now yeah? And if you try to strike back I will turn your insides into outsides.”

“Of course you caught yourself a crazy one.” Azazel muttered to Lucifer who was just amused watching and listening to you.

“Insanity is a beautiful thing in hell. It’s oddly satisfying isn’t it? How she talks and acts, fits right in, but can also be levelheaded enough to get things done, and done well at that, she can be as calm and collected as me when she really wants to, but what’s the point of that now? She’s simply having fun.”

Indeed you were. Beezelbub gasped for breath when you released the grip of agony you had over him. “I’d end you right now but.. I think it’ll be fun to watch you mope around while I proudly take your title as co-ruler and do your job better!” You patted his head and smiled. “Challenge me again and I will take it with my bare hands though, understand?”

You simply turned and skipped over to Lucifer giving him no time to respond. Sitting on their lap you kissed their cheek and looked up. “How’d I do!?” Azazel laughed. “Using agony first move? Nasty trick.” You frowned. “Yeah well I was- am tired of his shit!” You huffed and slumped against Lucifer’s shoulder, then they spoke. “Azazel, do us a favor and take him with you on your way out, we thank you.” Azazel did just that, and Lucifer locked all entrances once they left.

“That was certainly a show, dearest, how’s your head?” Agony took concentration, it wasn’t as easy as just commanding it upon someone, you needed to find their own, exploit it, and enhance it, giving you the worse headaches, it’s why you usually stuck with driving your opponents to their own demise, insanity came as second nature.

“Tortured! And it’s supposed to be my job to deliver it, not experience it!.. he’s lucky I didn’t end him.” You mumbled that last part, Lucifer sighed. “Must you be so pessimistic, have you forgotten you’ve won against one of the rulers of hell already? And you did it wonderfully.. such good girl.” Their lips met your neck and shoulders with open mouthed kisses while you fell silent.

“You definitely deserve a reward, don’t you think.. my queen?” you whimpered in response, hands coming up to undo their clothes while they practically tore away your own, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. Lucifer’s hands made their way between your thighs, rubbing tight circles on your clit thought your underwear. “I want you to ruin these.”

“ooh please- daddy!” You cried. “Oh? That’s new, whats going on in that little head of yours, Darling?” that signature amused tone and smirk coming through as they spoke. “I want- I pick my reward. Want you to fill me up.” you moan grinding your hips against the bulge you were suddenly made aware of, making them hiss and grip your hips. “One hell of a request, pet.” Lucifer hummed and made quick work of the remaining clothes getting rid of them before pulling you fully onto their lap, you wasted no time on teasing or prep, supporting yourself on their shoulders slowly sinking onto their cock.

You ground your hips onto theirs while you adjusted, pulling a hiss from Lucifer. Their hands grip your hips forcing you to a stop. “Don’t be greedy, my darling. Don’t forget who’s in control here.” You nodded, just wanting them to fuck you senseless already. “I’ll be good, promise” you whined and pouted, wishing they’d just take you. “Don’t make me regret letting you be on top.”

“I want you to breed me- please Luci..” the second you started riding them, Lucifer started pounding into your cervix, hard and fast ready to comply with your begging. You cried out when you felt the pain and pleasure shoot through your body. “Don’t worry, pet. I’ll make sure you can feel me dripping out of you for days.” The grip they had on your hips was painful, definitely going to bruise, as they repeatedly slammed you down to meet their thrusts.

“Everyone’s gonna know the new queen of hell likes getting stuffed until she can’t walk, do you want that? my pretty little whore.” You only whimpered at their words, earning yourself a slap against your thigh. “Answer me, doll.” Lucifer pounded into you with abandon making your body tense you moaned out. Another slap and a twitch of their hand before they gripped onto you again. “Yes yes! I want- daddy!” You cried, practically falling onto them as your body move on it’s own chasing your high.

“Finish that thought, pet.” You clenched around them and their hips stuttered for only a second before going back to their bruising pace. All you could hear was their groans and hisses, your moans and the sound of skin slapping. Kissing over their neck you decided to mark them as they would you, making them moan. “Such a good whore, aren’t you? So pretty for me..” a hand ran down the line of your spine making you shiver and sigh, such a soft gesture, silently reassuring.

“Go on, pet.” Oh, you’d almost forgotten. “What do you want, pretty?” “I want them to know I’m all yours.” You stuttered and Lucifer hummed in response. “Oh they know.” There was a smugness in their voice, but you didn’t understand why just yet. You wondered what they meant only for a second before they angled their hips, hitting constantly right against your g-spot.

“Oh fuck W-wait- luce!” Your legs were shaking, it was too much. You couldn’t keep moving. “What’s wrong pet? Too weak to keep going?” You knew it wasn’t really a question. So you didn’t answer.

Lucifer did it all for you. Their hand sneaking between your legs rubbing your clit. That was all you needed before you screamed, your grip on their hair tightened and your body curled into them, your orgasm triggered their own and the feeling of them filling you up made your eyes roll back as your forehead rested on their chest, panting. You swore you lost all your senses for a minute before you felt their hand squeeze your hip.

You hummed, spreading lazy kisses all over their chest while you both recovered, and after a while you noticed it. “Did you-“ they chuckled. “About half an hour ago.” Hell has never been quiet, but it’s never this loud, not near the throne room anyways, not unless Lucifer summons them. You turned red. Opting to just stay hidden in their neck until the embarrassment faded. “I thought it was proper way to officially welcome their new queen, no?” That fucking smirk.

#the sandman #lucifer morningstar (the sandman)#lucifer morningstar the sandman #the sandman lucifer morningstar #lucifer sandman smut #lucifer sandman #sandman lucifer x reader #gwendoline christie #the sandman lucifer smut

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howlsofter · 11 months

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Nextdoor ii.

John Wick moved in last year but you’re just home for the summer. He hires you to dog sit for him while he’s on business trips but it doesn’t take long til you’re pushing the limits of your “professional” relationship. Part 2, first here. John can’t keep ignoring your desperation for him, especially not after this.

Word: 2.2k

Tags/warnings: weed, drinking, smoking, voyourism, masturbation, no sex yet but def nsfw

John ignores me. Really I just think he’s busy working, he’s back on his usual schedule. I’ve heard him walk outside with daisy, talking to someone on the phone looking serious. He doesn’t ever glance my way from where I peak at him from my second story window. I wonder if he can feel my eyes. He doesn’t act like it, but John likes to play it cool.

My room is small, and it’s mostly items from before college. All my dorm stuff is packed up in boxes. My bedsheets are different and my room is more normal, since guests are the only ones who get any use of it besides me. I don’t mind, I don’t want to feel like I’m in my exact childhood bedroom.

I feel stupidly needy for his attention, getting all my shit out to go to the back porch. I don’t preroll myself one this time, bringing all my items and setting up my phone flashlight so I can see.

I don’t put on anything to drown out my thoughts, biting my lip as the metal grinder softly clinks. I dumb the herb out onto the small tray I’d brought, carefully pinching the end of my paper.

It’s not that noticeable at first, the burning smell of nicotine. It’s so out of place in our suburban neighborhood, the smell of cigarettes are saved for college. Imprinted in my mind for when I’m hazily stumbling onto the back porch of some fraternity, easily bumming a cigarette from the nearest person perched against the wall.

It’s John, I know it without checking. That empty ash tray on his porch. In all my nights out here I had never caught him smoking. I tsk to myself like he’s my kid.

I roll my joint hurriedly, scared he might finish before me. When it’s mostly done and I don’t think any crumblies will blow into the wind, I push myself up. The grass is soft underneath my socks, it makes a quiet crunching sound I try desperately to mumble. Up against our wood fence, I grab the taller metal post that stand between the wood panels. Hoisting myself up how I used to when I was young so that I could peak out into John’s yard.

Sure enough he’s sat, white button up tucked into his loose slacks. He’d ditches his belt and tie, the top mostly undone and a cigarette perched between those strong fingers.

“Smoking kills, you know,” I try not to yell, my normal talking voice carrying enough in the silent neighborhood for John to peer over to me. He looked shocked, like he’s 12 and I’m a police officer.

Once he realizes it’s me he relaxes back, flicking the ash off the tip. He reaches out to his glass in front of him, the amber liquid still just above the ice. He tries to move it from my view, turning his head away in a chuckle.

“And what are you about to do?” He throws back, I readjust my hand. It’s getting sweaty against the metal, my foot slips from the thin ledge I’m balancing on but my hold is firm.

“…it’s a different kind of smoking.” I can’t see but I feel John roll his eyes. Already caught, he takes another drag and gestures for me to join him. I lower myself from the fence, considering.

I finish up my joint and pack my shit, dumping it by our front porch before heading out the side gate into John’s.

He’s almost done with his cigarette, not bothering to sit forward when I join him at the table. He blows the smoke away from me, ashing it against into the tray in front of him and taking another small swig from his drink.

“I didn’t know you smoked,” I light mine up, watching him stare into his cup.

“On occasion. I’m not a smoker.” He says it while reaching for another. I hold the joint out for him and he pauses, shaking his head, “no I’m already… it’s fine for now.” He retrieves the second cigarette and I pass him back his lighter.

“You look like one,” I tease him carefully.

“What else do I look like?” He asks, turning his gaze up to me and tilting his head. I stare at him in silence, suddenly feeling wayyy higher than I thought I was already.

“Like, uh, hmm,” suddenly scared I’d say something insanely offensive, John blinks back to me with real expectations, “a tired business man.”

John actually laughs. He follows it with another sip, trying to shut himself up. “That I am.”

“What do I look like?” I ask him. He focuses in, I’m actually kinda intrigued. This John is different, more casual. Even looser than high John. He has to be drunk.

He seems to bite his tongue, his eyes scanning me like Sherlock deducting clues. “You look… bored, usually. Like you’re waiting for something to happen.”

I take another hit so I don’t have to explain myself. If he knows what he’s talking about he’s onto me. And what would that be, John?

“Trade me,” I hold out the joint so I don’t have to confirm his analysis. He hesitates before passing me his cigarette.

I watch him take a shallow huff and he watches me take a long drag, blowing the heavy smoke from my nose. It coats all my senses just like weed, smells utterly familiar. Maybe this was the key index to John’s scent, the ever fading smell cigarettes. Subtle nodes I wouldn’t have been able to identify prior.

He passed it back in the silence, staring off past the fence.

“I think you’re waiting for something too,” I break it, John doesn’t even throw me a glance.

“Waiting for what?” He finishes his drink finally, pushing it away from him. He answers almost bitter, like I had struck something in him.

“Tired is really just another synonym for bored,” I explain, going quieter so he could move on if he wants.

“So what do we do?” He throws it back at me.

I should kiss him now, but he won’t look my way. I carefully nudge his outstretched foot with my sock.

“Continue to wait, I guess,” I shrug, he still doesn’t move, “or do something about it.”

Now he turns, making eye contact with me in the darkness. He takes another drag of his cigarette.

“You’re so…” he begins, burying his face in his hands, “fuck.” A response is better than none, I set the roach against the corner of the tray, not moving my foot away from his.

He sits up straight, putting his cigarette out beside the joint and peering back at me. He had reset, suddenly looking like a professional in the remnants of his suit.

“So you’re just offering yourself up to me, like that?” He asks, resting his elbows against the table and I’m in the second round of interviews.

“Well- no, I was just saying.” I stammer, loosing all the courage I’d mustered up the past thirty minutes.

He leans forward slightly, my eyes dip to his lips, “really? You’re not just waiting on me?”

That’s exactly what I’ve been doing. Word for word. But hearing it come directly from him has me out of commission. I blush, turning my face away.

God himself set this moment up for me, but I’m cracking under the pressure.

“Why don’t you do something about it?” I ask weak, the words almost getting lost in my throat. John is still looking at me when I manage to turn, blinking back in thought.

He readjusts in his chair, turning to me more fully. I want to sit in his lap so badly, let him cradle me. I can tell he feels blurry, probably a little crossed. He rubs his palms against his clothes thighs, biting his lip.

“It’s not that easy,” is all he can say. I am stoned, sliding my heavy arm over to touch him where his hands had just ghosted over his thigh. He breathes in sharply, I can see him debating with himself.

“Why?” I coo, trying to lure him into me. John. John John John, I’m begging him in my mind, dragging him closer to me. He doesn’t move in his seat. He already knows where I stand, there’s no point in my shame now.

John takes my hand off him him, pulling me this time. I follow his directions promptly, pulling my chair up closer so I could kiss John with ease. He meets me halfway lazily, pressing firm lips against my soft open mouth. He tastes like whiskey and cigarettes. I hate whiskey with a passion but on John’s tongue it’s intoxicating. He lets me push up into his lap, tilting his head up and to the side as I climb there. I don’t straddle him, sitting sideways and keeping my legs up on my own chair. He wraps his long arms around my waist, holding me loosely.

I moan into the kiss, tilting my head slowly and making John chase me. We stay like that for awhile, it feels too nice to stop. I run my fingers along the line from John’s ear down his neck, he tilts to let me into the sensitive space there.

Trying to deepen it is useless, John cuts me off when I lick inside his mouth. He turns his head away, catching his breath.

He excused himself in the next one, but not before requesting I watch Daisy in a few days while he’s gone for the weekend.

I fucking hate him. His sudden coolness and casual glances to my window when he comes home from work. He sends me a thank you the day I go over to check on Daisy and I have to stop myself from sending him a Fuck you back.

I come over to check on her and let her out, keeping an eye on the camera in the living room.

I’ve reran our conversation through my mind a hundred times over, trying to figure out what I’m doing wrong. No man has ever expressed interest in me and not wanted to fuck immediately after.

Maybe I haven’t been waiting on John, but instead a challenge. Stubborn John Wick giving me enough confidence to strut in his house in my bikini, all my other items for the night tucked away in my tote bag. It’s 7pm when I decide to go settle in over there, telling my mom I love her before rushing off.

He’s not checking the cameras when I’m first there, dumping my belongings on the kitchen counter as usual.

He doesn’t check until that evening. took a quick shower and changed into my tank top and sweatpants, climbing down the stairs carefully to the living room. He’d sat in that spot on our movie night, the corner of the couch the camera had the perfect view of. I grab the remote and switch on HBO, lounging back as I try to find what to watch. I restart the Last of Us.

I try to lounge casual but sexy, which just results in me splayed out, leaning up against the arm rest. I let my hand rest in my sweatpants, pressed right up between my thighs warm and comfy. Halfway into the first episode the light of the camera flicks on.

I try not to panic, it was part of my plan, but now I’m embarrassed. I wait, frozen there, trying not to look directly at the camera, seeing if he’s going to click out.

When the light stays on for a solid few seconds I start to move. I carefully lift my hips, pushing my sweatpants down to my thighs. I expose my black underwear the the camera, looking up to see if he’s still watching. The light is unwavering.

My heart begins to race as I lean back, continuing to look through the camera to him. I run my hand along them tantalizing, pulling my lower lip between my teeth. Just the pressure feels good. I slide my middle finger passed the material, dipping into my unacknowledged heat.

The lights still on.

I slowly fuck myself with one finger, bending back against the arm of the chair. I angle up the best I can, grinding against the single digit. I peek once in awhile, reaching my other hand forward to touch my clit. Both the feelings the repetitive drum of John echoing in my brain got me close quickly. Already shaking and stuttering over myself I forget about the whole goal.

I cum hard, whining as my hips stir. I slowly pull my fingers out, wiping them off on my sweatpants and slumping back. I breathe shakily before I’m shocked awake, remembering where I am.

That stupid red fucking light flicks off the second I look back up to it.

I can excuse my insane actions with weed. To myself anyways. Maybe cumming on his couch isn’t the right path of action after feeling mildly rejected, but it sure made me feel better. I sleep in the guest room and wash the sheets in the morning before fleeing back to my own home. John venmoes me $200 for the weekend without saying else.

#john wick #john wick smut #alternative #john wick fanfic #john wick x y/n #john wick x reader #fanfiction #john wick: chapter 4 #smut #john wick gif

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thewritersaddictions · 4 months

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Day Seventeen: Alcina Dimitrescu + A Chirstmas Story

With thanksgiving just having ended your wife is all over the place. The kitchen looks like a hurriacane has come through. Dishes stacked up in the sink, flour litters the countertop and floor. While Alcina daughters had come inot town during the holidays, Alcina had tired her damnest to make sure that the holdiays were as good as they could possibly be.

So this was an every year sort of thing, the probelm was that she never sat down long enough between hanksgiving and chirstmas to take a single breath. She's always up before you are. In the kitchen making a new recipe that leaves the whole house smelling of fresh dough bread, cookies, or pies.

"Alcina!" You whine as soon as you wake, her side of the bed isn't warm. The sheets pulled back to make sure you stay warm underneath them. You padd to the kitchen, wrapped up in your throw blanket. It's nearly mid morning, and Alcina already got flour, and whatever else on her face smeared agasint her cheek. "Hello darling." She says warmly. She looks tired "How long have you been up for?" You ask her, she shurgs her shoulders as the oven beeps in alarm of being done pre-heating.

"I've been up for a few hours now." She says as she moves around the kitchen. "You're coffee is ready in the coffee pot." She says softly pecking your lips and then returning to her baking. You sit at your island and watch your wife. Her tired eyes reading the recipe once then twice, then a third and final time. You sip on your coffee with ease to not burn your tonuge.

It not til later that night when your wife has washed her dirty dishes twice over in the sink and now in the dishwasher. Alcina is pretty much on repeat for the months of November and December. Bake, sleep, wake up and repeat. "Alcina, will you come sit down next to me?" You yell to her from the couch. You hear the tiniest bit of a sigh.

But she walks into the living room. You pat the seat open next to you. "Alcina I think you should sit down." You're looking right at her, but she seems to be off in the disntace of her thoughts. "Well I… there's a few other things I need to get done." Your wife mutters not taking the open seat next to you. You challenge her words.

"What do you have to get done, baby? You've already been in the kitchen for what seems like the entire day." "I have to go…" Her words die in the back of her thoart as she looks down at you. You aren't trying to be mean, even if that's how your face, and vocie is making it out to be.

"Just come and sit with me please, I feel like I haven't spent any time with you since the start of November." You say sadly. Anoher sigh leaves Alcina lips as she sits down next to you on the couch. "Thank you." You mutter quietly. "Will you stay with me while we watch a movie?" You ask Alcina, she nods and snuggles into your side.

Even though your wife is taller then you she stills tends to be squished into your side. You had already pre-picked something earlier in the morning. A good ole' favorite. "What did you pick drag?" Alcina asks as she looks from your shoulder up at the larger flat screen. "A classic christmas movie." "Which is?" You and your wife banter with each other over what's a classic christmas movie.

"You aren't making me guess which one you pick, just tell me." She huffs out after a few minutes. "Okay fine… we are watching a chirstmas story. A classic." You remind her, she rolls her eyes and pecks your cheek. "I have to agree it's a rather good chirstmas movie for the holiday." Your wife says finally agreeing with you.

You feel Alcina wiggle next to you, as if she wants to get uo from the couch, "How about I go make some popcorn for us?" She offers, you shake your head. "No because if you get up and go back into that kitchen you'll never come back out I know you to well Alcina. Now sit and stay next to me." You demand, you clcik play back on the tv and return your attention to the title credits.

Completed on: 11/25/23

Posted on: 12/17/23

House Dimitrescu-

Resident Evil Master List // House Dimitrescu Master List // Christmas Stories Master List

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a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all · 6 months

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The Job (Part 1)

AI-Less Whumptober 2023: 23. Forced to Watch, Alt 25. Stalked Fandom: Peaky Blinders, Tommy Shelby, f!reader, prostitute!reader Summary: Tommy has been hiring you for your services for a while now, but this is the first time he has asked you for help concerning his family business... Word Count: 3205 TW: Fighting, Razor Blades, Blood, Forced to Watch, Stalked, Prostitution, Reader as Bait, Smoking, Implied Death Notes: A HUGE thanks to @loverhymeswith who not only sent me the ask that inspired this fic and supported its writing, but also for getting me into Peaky Blinders in the first place! Part of @ailesswhumptober's event

Mastlist (coming soon)

Part 1, Part 2

“I want to hire you for a job.”

You grinned at Tommy over your shoulder as you finished buttoning up your blouse and began to pull on your skirt. “I’m pretty sure you just did.”

But Tommy didn’t seem amused by your joke. His piercing blue eyes stared at you for a long moment, his face void of emotion and completely unreadable. Then he pulled out a cigarette and lit it. As he placed it between his lips, he said, “A different sort of job. On Friday night, I need you to make yourself look pretty and go down to The Marquis of Lorne.”

“The Marquis of—” you turned to look at him straight on. “Why would you want me to go to that pub when The Garrison is right here? Places like that on the edge of your territory… People there don’t always take kindly to me. Not with my reputation and all that.”

Tommy took a long drag on his cigarette. “It’s precisely because of your reputation that I’m asking you to go.”

Placing your hands on your hips, you asked, “And why, pray tell, is that? What are you expecting me to do once I’m there? Because I’ve told you before, I pick who I service and I won’t have you demanding–”

“It’s nothing like that,” Tommy said, calmly. “Like I already told you, it’s a different sort of job. Your reputation alone is more than enough to fit my needs. Just go to The Marquis, order a few drinks ‘til you’ve created the illusion you’ve become intoxicated, and then walk out the pub, simple as that. I’ll be waiting for you after at my stables down by the canal.”

“And why do I feel like that’s not your whole plan? It still doesn’t explain why The Marquis and not some other pub.”

Tommy tapped the end of his cigarette into the glass of water you had left out on the table. You had scolded him about doing so countless times but now did not seem like the moment to comment on it. Raising the cigarette to his lips once more, he said, “There is a new gang trying to move in on our territories. They think we haven’t noticed and we mean to put an end to it before they realize we caught on. They frequent The Marquis on Friday nights so I need you to go in, get their attention, and once you have made them believe your tongue is nice and loose, I want you to start spilling all of the Peaky Blinders’s secrets— the false ones I tell you to say, of course.”

“Ahhh…” you nodded, the final pieces of the puzzle falling into place. “You want me to make them believe you’ve let slip sensitive information when you come to me for my services. Which is why you want me for my reputation. They’ll think Thomas Shelby’s favorite whore has caught him with his pants down in more ways than one.”

“I’ve always said you were a clever one.” For the first time since he had gotten dressed, something akin to a smile ghosted across Tommy’s lips.

Walking over to where he was sitting, you plucked the cigarette from his fingers and placed it in your mouth. You inhaled before slowly blowing the smoke out right in Tommy’s face. “So, that’s it? I provide these fools who are crazy enough to try and challenge you false information on the Peaky Blinders and then just go along my way?”

Tommy ignored the smoke as he reached out and took his cigarette back, his fingers lingering for a moment as they brushed against yours. “Like you said, these men are fools. They’ll believe your deception. And when you leave the pub announcing you are going to sleep it off in one of the Peaky Blinders’s empty stash houses, they will follow you. And I will be waiting.”

You had to admit, it was a clever plan. Due to the popularity of the Peaky Blinders and the constant gossip surrounding them, everyone throughout Birmingham knew who you were and about your weekly dealings with Tommy Shelby. Everywhere you went, whispers seemed to follow you and you often caught people pointing or staring. Not that you usually minded. It was actually rather good for business. After all, what man wouldn’t want to say they had bedded the same woman as the head of the Peaky Blinders?

But while you had been servicing Tommy weekly for almost a year, he had never asked you to get involved in any Peaky Blinders business before this. In fact, Tommy had made it very clear from the start that you were to have no part in that aspect of his life. You were his momentary escape, a place where he could spend an hour or so without the weight of the world on his shoulders. So for him to come to you now asking this…. He must be more concerned about the other gang than he was letting on.

“And what happens once I lead them to the stables? I’m guessing you aren’t looking for a friendly chat.”

“You just get them there and leave the rest to me,” Tommy said as he dropped the remains of his cigarette butt into your glass of water. Standing, he placed his large hands on your shoulders and gave you a tight smile. “So, do we have an arrangement?”

Biting your lip, you mulled the question over for a moment. Tommy was a brilliant strategist and you had no doubt his plan would work. But his brush off of your questions about what happened afterward had a knot forming in the pit of your stomach. However, it was ill-advised to say no to someone as powerful as Thomas Shelby, so somewhat reluctantly, you said, “Fine. But I expect double my usual fee.”

“Done.” Tommy gave your shoulders a soft squeeze then turned to grab his cap off the table. “I’ll send Polly around in the morning with the details of what you should say. She can also help you find something to wear. Then head to The Marquis on Friday at seven and you know what to do.”

His hand reached for the door, but you called out, “Tommy” – he paused and turned to face you – “I’ll do what you want this once because it’s you who’s asking, but I’m not a Peaky Blinder. And I won’t have anything else to do with their business or transgressions. I don’t want to be involved with that lot. Are we understood?”

For a moment, Tommy didn’t move as he stared at you, save for one exaggerated blink of his icy blue eyes. You wondered if you went too far and said something you shouldn’t have. But then, he nodded, his tongue sliding across his full lips. “Understood.”

You smiled in relief and ducked your head, but before you could thank him, Tommy walked out the door.

As with most of Tommy’s plans, everything that Friday night went exactly as he predicted. Polly ended up bringing you a flashy new dress to wear that Tommy had purchased and from the moment you stepped into The Marquis of Lorne, you felt the weight of dozens of eyes on you. From there, it was easy to loudly drop Tommy’s name and your connection to him as you pretended to drink—as well as your “top secret” facts about the Peaky Blinders. Your table was soon swarmed by the gang members you were targeting, each offering to buy you another drink in the hopes of loosening your tongue further.

As the night wore on, a few of the men began getting more familiar with you than you were comfortable with, but you maintained your drunken facade and smiled through it. In your line of work, you had dealt with much worse before. However after one man stuck his hand up the bottom of your dress, you decided things had gone far enough and you rose unsteadily to your feet as you announced you were taking your leave. The men tried to convince you to stay or let them walk you home, but you insisted you would be alright on your own—there was an empty Peaky Blinders stash house nearby that you could sleep in for the night. You bit your lip to hide the smile threatening to break across your face as all the men’s eyes grew wide and they exchanged telling glances. Tommy Shelby, you are one brilliant man.

As you made your way out of the pub and into the foggy night, you could hear the men following close behind you. This was the part of the plan that concerned you the most. Back in the pub, there were other patrons who would step in if one of the men went too far or you called out for help. But out here on the empty road in the middle of the night, you doubted anyone would come to your aid if the men decided to approach you. You just had to trust Tommy knew what he was talking about and they would be more interested in finding the fake stash house than harassing you.

You breathed a sigh of relief as Tommy’s stable came into view. He had promised to meet you but as you got closer, there was no sign that anyone was there. Hesitating by the door, you wondered what you should do. There was no back door that you knew of so if something had happened and Tommy wasn’t there, you would be trapped inside alone with the gang between you and the only way out. But even if you decided to leave and continue on down the road, the gang would continue following you until they eventually grew suspicious and confronted you. So there was really no choice. You said a quick, silent prayer that Tommy was waiting for you, and you stepped inside.

You continued walking until you reached the far wall of the stable, but still, no Tommy. Your heart was beating furiously in your chest as the men behind you began to call out to you—crude, drunken taunts, and horrifying descriptions of what they were going to do to you. Spinning around, you looked everywhere desperately trying to find anything you could use to protect yourself with, but there were only a few hay bales. Trembling, you sunk to the ground and waited for the worst to come.

But just as the closest man was about to reach you, a figure stepped into the doorway of the stable, eclipsing the moonlight that had been illuminating the darkened space. Relief flooded through you as you recognized that familiar silhouette. Tommy had kept his word.

The men all turned and must have recognized him a few seconds after you did because a hushed murmur rippled through their group as they looked at him. Despite the fact they very obviously outnumbered him, you could sense the air of fear emanating from them, and you couldn’t blame them. While he may only be one man, this was Tommy Fucking Shelby they were facing. And that should be enough to terrify an army of men.

Tommy began to slowly walk forward, closing the distance between him and the men. As he slipped his jacket off and tossed it to the side, he called out in a strong voice that filled the stable, “Word on the streets is that you boys are trying to move in on our territory. Take things that are ours while you think we aren’t looking.”

He gestured to where you were still huddled on the ground. Now that he had come closer, you could just make out his face. He raised one eyebrow at you, a silent query if you were alright. You nodded shakily and rose to your feet, still pressed tightly against the wall. You felt his eyes scanning you for anything amiss, and he gave a satisfied nod when he deemed you safe.

Then, addressing the men once more, he continued. “You are not the first to think you could come for the Peaky Blinders and I am certain you won’t be the last. But I’m here to make certain that after tonight, you won’t be a problem any longer.”

Tommy came to a stop—his heels clicking loudly together—just a few inches before the closest man. Though his back was to you, you could tell the man was frightened by the way his hands shook as he raised them in the air.

Tommy smiled at the gesture…. then ripped off his cap and slashed it across the man’s throat.

You gasped in horror and pressed your hands to your mouth as a trail of blood flew through the air and splattered on the floor. Almost in slow motion, the man dropped to his knees, a horrendous gurgling emanating from his ruined throat. Then Tommy swung his cap again, using the razorblades sewn in the brim to finish the job, and the man toppled over without another sound.

The stable burst into chaos. The rest of the men rushed at Tommy but he was ready for them. Normally, it would have been near impossible odds with Tommy outnumbered so, but the men had been drinking very heavily back in the pub and their senses were dulled considerably. Tommy was able to avoid most of their attacks while landing blow after blow on the men—his razorblades sending blood flying with every swing.

You of course knew of the Peaky Blinders’s signature weapon of choice, yet this was the first time you had seen anyone use it in action. It was a horrendously strange sight to see: Tommy swinging something so innocuous as his tweed flat cap at the other men just for a burst of crimson blood to bloom in that same spot. And the fluid manner in which Tommy ducked and dodged, weaving his way from one man to the next, was almost beautiful in a way. Like a dancer taking the stage—stage made of blood.

There was no avoiding it. The metallic tang of blood filled the air, burning your nose. Somehow, it even blocked out the pungent smells from all of the horses. Even in only the pale glow from the moonlight, everywhere you looked was dripping red. You had only been spared because you had dove sideways to huddle behind the hay bales next to you once the attack began, but they had taken the full brunt of the carnage. Blood was slowly filtering through the tightly packed hay as it traveled downward toward the ground—the pool on the floor steadily creeping closer to your feet.

You had to escape this massacre as soon as possible.

Eventually, you saw an opening but just as you gathered up your dress to make a dash to freedom, Tommy spun around and pointed one blood-soaked finger at you. “You! Stay where you are.”

You froze, unsure of your next move. Tommy had never said anything about you remaining once you had done your part. Your only job was to lure the men to the stable and he would take care of the rest. Surely he didn’t mean for you to remain here to witness this slaughter?

And yet, he remained standing there with all of his focus on you despite his remaining enemies still swarming around him, blood dripping off of the end of his outstretched finger. So you did the only thing you could. You released your dress, letting the fabric fall once more to the ground, and nodded to him even as you shrank back behind the hay bales, quivering in fear.

Seemingly satisfied that you wouldn’t attempt to bolt again, Tommy slowly lowered his hand and turned back to the melee. There were only a few men still standing—the others were left moaning on the ground as they clutched at their wounds, or worse still, some lay perfectly still in growing pools of their own blood.

With fewer opponents charging him at once, Tommy took a new, less frantic approach to the fight. Instead of attacking with the blades sewn into his hat, he began to use his fists— the sound of breaking bones echoing throughout the open area as his knuckles slammed into noses and cheekbones. One man even dropped like a stone as Tommy drove his fist into the man’s jaw.

And you were forced to watch it all, terrified of what Tommy might do if you even glanced away. The one saving grace that made it even slightly bearable was that the clouds had shifted to partially cover the moon, hindering the visibility inside the stable. But that did nothing to shield you from the sounds or smells surrounding you.

Finally—mercifully—Tommy struck down the last of the gang members. He stood in the middle of the stable, chest heaving, as he looked around at the carnage surrounding him. Like this, he resembled some ancient god of war reveling in his battlefield, washed in the blood of his enemies.

Satisfied the fight was over, he picked his way through the maze of bodies on the floor and stopped before your hiding place. He held out his hand to you, but you ignored it, unable to touch the blood that coated it. Instead, you stepped out from behind the hay bales on your own and stood before him, unable to meet his eye.

He leaned in close until his face was only a breath’s distance from you and he said, “Next time I pay you for a service, you don’t leave until you are given permission. Is that understood?”

“Y-yes, Tommy,” you managed to choke out, tears stinging your eyes.

His eyes flickered over you, and even with such a slight gesture, you felt the weight of his gaze as it examined every inch of you. You had stood bare in front of Thomas Shelby more times than you could count, had him thrust into the deepest part of your core on a weekly basis, and yet, you had never felt as exposed or vulnerable as you did right now.

As his eyes settled once more on your face, he slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a stack of money. He placed it on the hay bale beside you and you shuttered to see his bloody fingerprints stained on the top bill.

“I included a little extra for your trouble.” Your eyes snapped back up to look at him. Despite the circumstances, Tommy’s voice was as calm and level as always. It was the sort of tone one would expect to hear him use when he visited the church or held a business meeting, not when standing there surrounded by the corpses of his enemies and dyed red with their blood.

“Now you are free to go.” He turned and walked calmly back towards the stable entrance. Pausing only momentarily to pick up his jacket, he slid it on in one fluid motion as he added, his back still turned towards you, “I’ll be round Wednesday at my normal time.”

Then he disappeared into the foggy night, leaving you alone surrounded by the ghastly horror he had wrought.

Part 2 coming soon and it will be much more relationship-heavy (plus pretty steamy😉)!

#ailesswhumptober2023 #fic #whumptober #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders #cillian murphy #reader #f!reader #prostitute!reader #angst #whump #blood tw #fighting tw #razor blade tw #prostitution tw #forced to watch tw #stalking tw

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a-reader-and-a-writer · 6 months

Text

The Job (Part 1)

Masterlist (coming soon)

Part 1, Part 2

“I want to hire you for a job.”

You grinned at Tommy over your shoulder as you finished buttoning up your blouse and began to pull on your skirt. “I’m pretty sure you just did.”

Tommy took a long drag on his cigarette. “It’s precisely because of your reputation that I’m asking you to go.”

“And why do I feel like that’s not your whole plan? It still doesn’t explain why The Marquis and not some other pub.”

“I’ve always said you were a clever one.” For the first time since he had gotten dressed, something akin to a smile ghosted across Tommy’s lips.

“And what happens once I lead them to the stables? I’m guessing you aren’t looking for a friendly chat.”

You smiled in relief and ducked your head, but before you could thank him, Tommy walked out the door.

Then, addressing the men once more, he continued. “You are not the first to think you could come for the Peaky Blinders and I'll bet you won’t be the last. But I’m here to make certain that after tonight, you won’t be a problem any longer.”

Tommy smiled at the gesture…. then ripped off his cap and slashed it across the man’s throat.

You had to escape this massacre as soon as possible.

Eventually, you saw an opening but just as you gathered up your dress to make a dash to freedom, Tommy spun around and pointed one blood-soaked finger at you. “You! Stay where you are.”

He leaned in close until his face was only a breath’s distance from you and he said, “Next time I pay you for a service, you don’t leave until you are given permission. Is that understood?”

“Y-yes, Tommy,” you managed to choke out, tears stinging your eyes.

Then he disappeared into the foggy night, leaving you alone surrounded by the ghastly horror he had wrought.

Part 2 coming soon and it will be much more relationship-heavy (plus pretty steamy😉)!

Tag list: @loverhymeswith, @heart-0n-fire, @that-sarcastic-writer, @eternallyvenus, @writercole, @deppresseddyslexic, @confetti-cakemix, @flamingdisputes, @callsign-phoenix

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cultofdixon · 1 year

Text

Come With Me

Daryl Dixon • They/Them Pronouns • Jealousy never looks good on anybody. And it was odd at first to everybody when you extended a branch to Negan, but as the odd feeling fades for others…Daryl is still left stuck in his head • ANGST/SFW • TW: Injuries / Nightmares

Requested by: Anon

“I made her a bed, she’ll be comfortable and safe here” Y/N crosses their arms leaning against the bedroom door frame watching Daryl unpack his bag back into his dresser. “I don’t have a dog bed”

“He can be with me, no?”

“As long as he doesn’t bark when I come home from the night shift” Y/N smiles a bit moving from the door the second Daryl brought himself close instantly bringing them into his embrace. “I’ve missed you”

Daryl squeezing them in the hug confirmed the same feeling back. He wasn’t great with his words, everybody knew that. He was just relief that they let him back in after the bridge explosion years ago.

________

“Hey, what are you doing?”

“Leavin’”

“Daryl…why? Because of what happened to Rick? What is leaving going to do?”

“He ain’t dead. Must’ve got caught up in the water. He could be there and I’m gonna find him” Daryl practically pulled the drawer out of the dresser as the loud thud startled Y/N slightly as they continue to watch him pack struggling to find the words to make him stay so all that came out.

“S-Stay, Daryl please”

Daryl felt himself slow a bit the second he heard the crack in their voice. He wanted to just drop everything and hold them for hours on end. But another part owed a whole lot of people to go find Rick.

“Come with me”

“Daryl I can’t just drop everything. We lost something—-“

“And I’ll find it. Now you understand why I’m leaving?”

“Daryl he—-“

“SHUT IT” Daryl snaps watching them flinch realizing he shouldn’t have done that. But he wasn’t going to listen to them be like some of the others.

He’s not dead and he’ll make sure of that.

________

Even if that meant they weren’t sleeping in the same bed anymore.

Daryl hasn’t slept in a bed in forever and Lydia never had a bed since the start of it. So both of them were wide awake not knowing what to do.

Why did they take me in was all they thought for two different reasons.

Then the sudden shuffling startled Daryl up and out of bed to investigate, seeing Lydia struggling to open a door which was the room Y/N was staying in. The panic started to fill in as Daryl joins Lydia, inevitably gently pushing her aside and kicking down the door finding Y/N on the floor trying to not make it look like they struggled.

“S-Sorry I heard mumbling and then a thud…I-I couldn’t just—-“

“It’s fine…Nothing bad happened” Y/N held their head for a moment sitting on the floor as Daryl tells Lydia to go back to bed while he stayed with them. “I’m fine. You can go back to bed”

“Ain’t leavin’ til I know you’re okay” Daryl extended his hand and when they didn’t instantly took it, he felt worse for leaving. “Y/N I…”

“I-I have the night shift on watching Negan. I was getting up to get dressed and just. Fell out of bed.” Y/N frowns rubbing their arm knowing there are going to be random bruises in places just from falling onto the hard wood floor.

“We still have shifts for that?”

“Yeah…I don’t know why alright?” They sigh bringing themselves to their feet stumbling a bit, making Daryl hold their arms to help them steady before hesitantly letting go. “Go back to sleep. I’m sorry this happened” they finally collected themselves moving the blanket onto the bed and getting their boots on.

“Layer up, and take Dog”

“If it helps yea sleep at night. Im taking your poncho and Dog” Couldn’t tell if they were serious, but hearing Dog’s footsteps confirmed half of that.

The familiar footsteps made the resident prisoner adjust the light on his lantern to be brighter for the entire room instead of just beside the cot enough for him to read. Y/N made their presence known while also Dog came barreling toward Negan to start sniffing him.

“I don’t got any drugs! How would I even get drugs?”

“What about the pain killers for that laceration?”

“Okay smartass. Why do you have Dog the dog? Judith loves that damn thing…” Negan watches Y/N move his legs so that they could sit on the cot instead of the uncomfortable wooden chair outside the bars. They started to let the door open for Negan, the cell door at least. The main door to the basement gets locked when he’s down there. “Daryl moved back in?”

“Yeah, and he saw me post-nightmare. I didn’t want to tell him what really happened or what it was about so I just lied saying I’m doing the night shift”

“Make sure he doesn’t ask Michonne if that’s real or not. Not like we do much of anything but talk and get my fucking cuffs in order” Negan closes his book turning to stare at Dog who was trying to get comfortable on the cold concrete, making the man toss one of his two blankets on the floor for the damn thing to lay on it. “Why didn’t yea just tell him?”

“Because it was the same one. That I have been having since Rick died.” Y/N frowns watching their hands shake as they adjust the poncho to cover them up. “Since Daryl left…”

Daryl couldn’t help himself and followed Y/N, but stayed by the rain drain that lead to Negan’s cell. The one Judith would talk to him through. Keeping himself out of sight but noticed Y/N sitting with Negan which stirred a bit of the rage back inside him.

“You should just tell’em. I don’t see no point in not sleeping at night” Negan crosses his arms. “Or pretending to be mellow about him coming back when all yea wanna do is jump his—-“

“I’ll hurt you if you finish that sentence Negan”

“Feisty as always. But I make great points”

“Oh should we talk about your great points that lead you here?”

“Hey I fucking saved your ass, his ass” He quickly points to the Dog. “And Judith’s. I only get glared at two times a day now”

Y/N rolls their eyes snorting to such keeping to their side of his cot as Negan took the silence as going back to what he was previously doing. They’ll vent more if they have to Negan thought glancing at them every now and then.

Meanwhile Daryl started to make his way back to their place. Their place. His and Y/N’s! His Y/N’s!…shit Daryl sighs taking a seat at the steps to the place thinking about what he heard. Nothing too weird just that he’d wish Y/N would talk to him more. Like old times. Now Negan is that person. Fucking Negan He grumbles rising and heading inside.

“How long?”

“How long what?” Michonne looks at Daryl confused by that question as the conversation of how RJ and Judith are doing with no clear path to lead to his question, didn’t make any sense. “Elaborate Daryl”

“Y/N and Negan” just saying that made Michonne choke on her water, making Daryl start off with there’s something going on in his mind but when she started to laugh he groaned. “Alright, what am I missin?”

“Nothing. They talk but they’re only colleagues. Y/N does have to watch the idiot. You think they would just stand there in silence?” Michonne went for another sip of her water noticing the serious look on Daryl’s face. “You’re an idiot if you think Y/N would do anything more”

“I am an idiot, but for leavin’ for so long”

“You were doing what you thought was right, Daryl…not saying we all came to terms with yknow still. But Y/N understands why you did it”

Daryl sighs leaning against the kitchen counter looking at his feet to avoid Michonne’s pressing expression knowing there’s more. There’s always more that he doesn’t always say so Michonne took what she already knew and drew from it.

“Y/N keeps Negan from getting in more trouble than he already is in. When you left, they blamed him for Rick’s death and threatened to kill him. This lasted about a month. Until Y/N’s accident that left them within the walls for a few months just so we wouldn’t have to worry about them getting hurt again. During that time Negan opened up a lot. To Y/N. Because they were real to him about how they felt with not just you leaving. But everything he’s done. So he trusts them. And they talk and Negan just helps around the community.” Michonne finishes her water and gets her katana in its scabbard.

“Michonne…Yea think—-“

“They never stopped loving you Daryl” Michonne finally admits for Y/N in that moment. “So seriously. Don’t be jealous over Negan. Or I’ll let Y/N knock some sense into yea” she smiles leaving on that note as Daryl sighs being left alone with such.

As the rest of the day continues with ease, Daryl knew Y/N would either be by the cell or helping Lydia in any way or stuck babysitting Negan when he’s outside the cell. He’s been given responsibilities around Alexandria after he saved Judith in the snow storm. Besides, he can work to pass the time instead of staring at a concrete wall contemplating the end.

“Shouldn’t pull your punches with Y/N, Lydia”

“She’s working with a staff and you want her to land a good hit? I’m the one using just my hands here” Y/N laughs dodging Lydia’s lunges with the staff in her hands watching their hands the best she could to avoid the sudden grab of her staff after a lunge. They pulled her right off her feet but were careful not to be too rough about it. “Or cuz I’m winning these sparring matches?”

“I got close that one time!”

“Yeah cuz Negan thought it’d be helpful to toss a tomato at me” Y/N rolls their eyes helping Lydia back to her feet.

Daryl rounds the corner keeping out of all three’s line of sight so that he could observe. It was pretty…boring. He was just watching Negan get stuck hanging up laundry while Y/N and Lydia were sparring. But seeing the joy on their face when around the two, pulled an uncomfortable thought from his mind. The picture perfect…family, that’s supposed to be him. And boy is he an idiot for that thought.

“Y/N!” The scream to escape Lydia startled Daryl out of his thoughts as he stopped caring about his presence being known.

“Damn Lydia. Way to catch a person off guard” Negan drops to his knees rolling Y/N over carefully when Daryl drops down beside them. “Man of the hour, Lydia struck a bit too high. Nailed them right at the back of the head”

“Lydia. Get Siddiq” Daryl frowns watching her nod before quickly running off to the infirmary. “Hey Y/N wake up. Come on” he gently held their face as their eyes slowly opened but boy did the pounding sensation made them want to close them again. “Hey hey—-You can’t sleep. Might have a concussion”

“With that force, yeah it has to be” Negan scoffs receiving a glare from Daryl instantly as he held his hands up in defense.

“Mmm…my guardian angel is here with a mean lookin’ face” They groan out feeling Daryl bring his arm under their back to start helping them sit up. “Slow…slower…”

“You should do what they say Da—-“

“Fuck off Negan” Y/N mumbles letting Daryl sit them up even though all they wanted to do was go back down as they slowly started to do so but he stopped them from doing so. “Meanie…”

After Y/N got situated back in their room back in their place, Daryl sat on the edge of the bed watching them doze off every now and then.

“Meanie”

“Me?”

“Mhm…Leavin’”

It’s the pain killer Siddiq gave them but holy fuck did they have to go there Daryl frowns moving his gaze away until they tossed one of their pillows at him. “Hey—You need that”

“Look. At. Me.” Y/N snaps wincing a bit rubbing the side of their head a second. “You’ve been actin’…weird. Is it me?”

“No! No…”

“Then?”

“…You really gonna pry it out of me?” He questions seeing their infamous annoyed look as they gesture to the situation they’re in. “Fine fine…You’re startin’ to like Negan more than me”

Y/N really wanted to laugh in that moment because he’s got to be crazy. Maybe Lydia hit his head on the way to getting Siddiq for their injury. There is someone crazy enough to like Negan that way, but Y/N is not that person. Especially when they haven’t stopped.

“You think I stopped loving you—let alone like you because you left?” They frown crossing their arms seeing him avoid eye contact once again. “Daryl Dixon. I do not like Negan more than you.”

Daryl still avoided eye contact for a moment before Y/N started to nudge him with their feet.

“Stop pouting and come up here” Y/N pats the empty space beside them for Daryl watching him being hesitant at first as he makes his way. They instantly rest their head against his shoulder feeling him shift to make them both more comfortable. “You’re dumb for being jealous if that’s what’s happening…cuz I just. Never stopped when you left. That the one I time I went looking for you, I crashed my car and Aaron found me bringing me back. Michonne knew Carol knew how to find you, so she wanted to get that out there to you. But I didn’t want you to know…so I got stuck here and told to stay here which drove me nuts even when I was fully okay to go beyond the walls. Part of me wanted to go find you again, another wanted to stay in case you came through those walls any minute.”

Daryl hasn’t let go of that feeling when he first left in search for Rick. The painful feeling of leaving Y/N behind. Hearing all that they said made him feel better but also worse for the whole jealousy thing towards Negan. He just hated change and thought their feelings did.

“I’m sorry”

“You don’t have to be, the jealous thing yeah. Cuz you think you’re stealthy Dixon?” Y/N elbows him playfully giving away that they knew whenever he was hovering.

The cell.

The gardens.

The hallway outside their room.

The man may get around without being noticed by others, but they will always know where he’s at.

“Just. Don’t get too close to Negan”

“Yeah yeah. My mean lookin’ guardian angel will hurt the guy if he looks at me one way. He’s not the one I’m in bed with now is he?”

“May I remind you why you’re in bed?”

“Shut it Dixon”

•

Once the summer weather came around, Daryl stood outside Y/N’s door watching them get their pack ready. He quickly stood up straight when they brought their attention onto him.

“Hey”

“Hey yourself.”

“I ain’t good at this…” Daryl clears his throat approaching Y/N. “But some of us are goin’ to Oceanside. To train in case of a Whispers attack…come with me?” He extended his hand expecting them to say no but with the quick throw over the shoulder of their bag and their hand instantly accepting his.

“Someone has to watch Dog”

“Oh so it’s for Dog now?”

“Don’t get jealous over Dog now, love”

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction

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romeulusroy · 1 year

Text

Irresistible (Shiv Roy x Tattoo!Reader)

Character/s: Shiv, Logan mention

Word Count: 981

A/N: This was not requested, but I did get a Shiv request and I want to be sure I can do it justice. I feel like I know her the least besides Kendall, so I'm a lil scared to post this lol. It's a teensy bit short too, don't come for me y'all!! I just know she'd love tattoos so much. Maybe not on her, but her partners? Definitely!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

She runs the tips of her fingers across the ink of your skin. Starting innocently enough, your fingers, your hands, west and elbow. Some new, mostly old, still raised on the surface of your flesh. Up, up, across, tracing your collarbone, your chest, your neck, until she’s got your chin tipped up, examining the ink on the underside of your jaw. Her eyes are delicate, but intense. She’s dissecting you as you sit, wait, and you let her. You’d let her do a lot of things. She lets a smile slip, letting go, instead grabbing for your hand, giving it a squeeze. She’d always been a lover of art, of expression, but her favorite was your body. Covered head to toe in tattoos. The drama of it all. The pain, too. It gave you an edge, a shield. It makes me look a lot cooler than I am, you joked, but she just shook her head. Not cool, elegant. Elegant as fuck. You laughed, not expecting that certain word choice from an angel like her. The more you got to know her though, the more you expected it. The more you could rely on it, on her.

She started appearing everywhere. Not just around the office, at her fathers table, but in your corner, in your space. She hadn’t noticed you til an office party ran late. Past midnight, everyone drinking, celebrating. You never showed skin at the office. It wasn’t professional anywhere, but especially Waystar. Parties, parties were another story. Your co-workers knew what you looked like, who you were outside of work. You let loose a little, sipping at your drink, watching your peers make mistakes for tomorrow morning. Thats when you spotted her, watching you. Of course you knew who she was. Your heart fell into your stomach. She was powerful, a Goddess among men. She had power. You? You’d only been working there a year, almost two. That was all. You doubted Logan knew your name. As long as the work was done on time, he didn’t really care. She hadn’t taken her eyes off you, her gaze burning right through you. You hadn’t spilled on yourself and your fly wasn’t down, you checked. You looked behind you, too, but there was no one. No, she was looking at you. Was that a smile? You could see it in her cheeks, in the lines of her face, no matter how hard she tried to hide behind her glass. Heat rose to your face. The boss’ daughter was looking at you, staring. You tried not to let on that you knew, turning your attention elsewhere. Co-workers dancing, people you didn’t even know knew one another mingling like old friends. Every time you looked, out of the corner of your eye, there she was.

There she was.

You’ve been staring. It takes every ounce of courage in your body to speak those words. Flirty, just loud enough for her to hear. Maybe I like what I’m looking at. She says cooly, not looking at you directly. You’d disappeared. The crowd thickened and you took your chance, moving from one end of the room to the other, so close to her you could smell her perfume. She didn’t jump, you hadn’t shocked her, like she was always prepared for anything. Everything. Maybe? Ouch. What were you doing? You weren’t this person. You weren’t sexy or spontaneous, you definitely didn’t think you had a chance with any person, let alone the Siobhan Roy. She either didn’t notice the moment of panic or chose not to, instead shrugging her shoulders. Yeah, maybe. Where have you been hiding all this time? Accounting, you want to say, but that isn’t right. You’ve been here all along, in plain sight. Is she noticing now because of your skin, or she’d had too much to drink? She doesn’t seem drunk, not even a little tipsy. So she liked your ink. . . That made you smile despite yourself. Scary, powerful, Siobhan Roy liked tattoos? That’s pretty cute. You can touch them, if you like. You held out your wrist to her. That startled her, how you’d figured her out, how forward you were with her. She touches you as if she’s afraid you’ll break, so delicate, so frail. She traces the images, the shading and linework, getting lost in the patterns, the intricacy. She doesn’t ask what they mean, like most people. She doesn’t ask if it hurt, how expensive it was, or who you went to. She just traced. When she came to, as if coming out of a haze, she blushed. You liked it.

Her touch tickled.

She did it when she was nervous, too. Tracing the image on the back of your hand, your knuckles, absentmindedly. She rubbed whichever arm she held, the two of you a long established couple after that night. She always get embarrassed when you bring it up. Not to tease her, rather in awe of her. She was stunned by you, by the artwork, even if she couldn’t put it into words. She buries her face into you, begging you to stop talking. Too late. You’re stuck with me, you want to tease. She can’t help it, the second she saw you, she knew things would be different. Not love, something more complicated. Something more permanent. She didn’t believe in love at first sight. That night, though? That night, maybe she’d come close. When you get new ones she studies them, hypnotized by the process. Going through all that pain for something so beautiful, so forever. She knows what her father thinks of you, of your body, but she couldn’t care less. You weren’t just beautiful, you were stunning. The artwork was just an added bonus, the cherry on top. One day you’ll get something to represent her, your wife. For now you wear your ring. For now, that’s enough.

#writing #shiv roy #shiv roy imagine #shiv roy x reader #succession #succession imagine #succession x reader

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