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#why they flirtin
scooby-doobert · 1 year
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ok im gonna need context for this
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aria0fgold · 2 months
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MARCIE DOESNT HAVE ANY FRIENDS ANYMORE!?!?!?!?!!?!?! SCREAMING BRO. IM SCRWAMING WHAT DO YOU M E A N HE HAS NO MORE FRIENDS?????????
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wosohermoso · 8 months
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Lucy Bronze
Jealousy pt. 2 - 18+
Warnings: smut, fluff, angst (they almost get caught)
Lucy gets jealous when reader is flirted with by another teammate on a night out.
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Me and Lucy were at the club with the rest of the lionesses, the music blaring through the speaker. We’d been seeing each other for the past few months but still weren’t official yet, no one else knew about our relationship and we had decided to keep it that way until it was completely obvious. Lucy enjoyed the privacy, but with nobody suspecting a thing, there wasn’t much I could do when others were slightly flirty.
We were sat at a booth with Lucy’s teammates, Leah and G, Lucy’s hand resting on my knee just under the table. We were in a risky position, but no one could see.
“Lets go dance” Leah beams at me from the other side of the booth, getting up swiftly from the table as Lucy’s hand leaves my leg.
“In a bit” I chuckle at the very visibly drunk footballer.
“Nooo, now” She pouts, heading for my side of the table and she grabs my wrists in attempt to drag me up.
“Shes not gonna take no for an answer Y/n” G laughs as im forced up out of the booth.
“Come on” Leah chuckles, “I won’t get too frisky”
I look back at Lucy who was looking up at me before heading off to the dance floor.
I was dancing with Leah. There was nothing more to it, just a friendly dance with one of Lucy’s best friends. I placed my hands respectfully on her hips as we swayed in unison to the music before she turns around to wrap her arms around my neck as we continue to dance away. Although to me it was nothing, I couldn’t help but notice Lucy watching me carefully, her teeth subconsciously chewing onto her straw before she takes a sip and continues with whatever conversation she was having with G.
“I need another drink, come on” Leah giggles, leading me away to the bar.
“Did I tell you.. that YOU- look amazing” Leah slurs out as she pokes me in the chest.
I chuckle, “You did, multiple times”
“Well- I’ll tell you again. You look amazing” Leah repeats herself, earning an amused laugh.
She places her hands on my shoulders to steady herself and I subconsciously hold onto her wrists.
“Why are you holding me like tha- are you flirting with me?” She giggles.
“No Leah, I’m trying to hold you up-”
“You are, you’re flirtin-”
“I’m not!” I chuckle as she frees herself from my grip to grab onto my hands before turning to a complete randomer at the bar.
“Shes flirting-” she nods towards me “You’re flirting with me” She giggles as our hands fight for playful dominance, “Don’t get too confid-”
Just as soon as whatever mishap between myself and Leah had started, it had very abruptly been finished as a pair of hands land on my hips.
“Lucy!” Leah beams, “shes been flirting all night”
Lucy doesn’t reply, giving my hips a small squeeze before speaking, “I’m going to the toilet, can you come?” she asks. With us all being girls, there was nothing necessarily wild about any of us heading to the bathroom together, so both me and Leah nod.
“I’ll come, lets all go” Leah replies for me and I just about hear Lucy huff from behind me over the music.
“You need to sit down, Leah, is what you need to do” Lucy chuckles before pointing over at G who waves from the booth, “Go see G” She says before guiding Leah away.
I turn to look at Lucy with a smile, she doesn’t smile back. “You okay?” I ask before she takes my hand and drags me through the crowd. I latch onto her left arm from behind her with my left hand, my right placed on her lower back as we fight our way through the sea of dancing people. Lucy doesn’t say a word, leading me to the empty bathroom before opening the door and shoving me up against it.
“Do you know how much I hate-” She mumbles as her lips attach to my neck, “-seeing you flirting with others?” She finishes, her teeth dragging across my skin as she begins to leave sloppy kisses along my throat, her fingers holding my chin in place as I breathe out.
“What do you mean?” I squeak turning my head slightly to the door, conscious that someone would walk in.
“You and Leah- flirting all night.” She states, “it drives me fucking crazy”
Her lips latch onto mine and theres no way in hell I’d ever want her to stop. I ease into the kiss as her hand leaves my chin, now resting comfortably on the back of my neck. Her tongue swipes at my lower lip, begging for entrance and I comply, opening my mouth and letting it slip in to fight with my own. Her hand trails up my stomach to my boob as she gives it a rough squeeze, pinching my nipple through the material of my top before her lips reattach themselves to my neck.
With the amount of alcohol we had both drank, as well as not being able to kiss or touch each other for the entire night, the both of us instantly turn into completely moaning and groaning messes.
Lucy drags her nails down my thigh, stopping at my knee before lifting it up against her hip, giving her enough leeway to push her hips into mine against the door as she grinds against me in frustration. Her other hand grabbing onto my breast before pulling my top down to reveal my nipple. I breathe out,
“Lucy, we’re gonna get caught”
“I don’t give a fuck” She mumbles as her tongue glides across my nipple, taking it in her mouth as she sucks lustfully. My eyes subconsciously roll back, grabbing at her top to try and pull it up before we hear the faint booming coming from behind the door, someone was coming in.
Lucy detaches herself from me and drags me to a stall, locking the door behind us and instantly closing the toilet lit to sit herself down. Her hands trail up my leg and under my skirt as the voices from both Leah and G enter the bathroom.
“Y/n?” G calls out. “Lucccyyyy” Leah slurs as I hear them opening the toilet doors in search for us.
Just as I was about to call out, I feel Lucy pull my panties to the side, her fingers gliding effortlessly along my slit and my voice gets caught in my throat. I look down at Lucy in disbelief as I watch her delicately caress me, the frustration in her eyes only growing.
“Y/n?” Leah calls out just as Lucy slips a finger into me. My mouth opens in pleasure as I watch Lucy gaze up at me, placing a kiss on my lower stomach as she watches me in awe. Her eyes follow mine carefully as she slips in another finger. She raises a brow, waiting for me to respond to Leah. She cannot be serious. She waits a small moment for me to speak before I shake my head in defeat, earning a small smirk as her fingers begin to move inside me.
“They’re not in here” I hear G mumble before I hear the taps turn on. “I need to redo my face” She then says and I watch Lucy frown.
Lucy gathers my skirt up at my stomach as she watches herself play with me. She takes a swipe at her lower lip before pulling me towards her just a little bit more and softly sucks on my clit.
I squeeze my eyes shut, the sensations of her tongue against me almost all too much, especially with two of her best friends just outside the door. Lucy lets out a small groan, not nearly loud enough for the others to hear, but loud enough for the vibrations of her voice to buzz against me. She curls her fingers slightly, looking up at me as she works her magic, her tongue lapping against my heat as she does the upmost to pleasure me. It was definitely working.
I feel my orgasm approaching and I do everything to not make any noise, although if I did, I don’t think Lucy would care in the slightest. I wasn’t ready to be caught being eaten out by her teammates though.
Lucys fingers brush against my gspot repeatedly as I feel myself clench around them. Lucy could tell I was close, grabbing me and spinning me round before placing me on her lap, her fingers leaving me briefly. How the other two couldn’t hear the shuffling about was beyond me, but then again they were both pretty drunk.
Lucy holds me against her as she lifts my skirt again, rubbing rough circles against my clit. My head rolls back to rest on her shoulder as my breathing gets heavy. “If they open the door you’ll be completely on show” she whispers in my ear as her fingers plunge back into me. My walls clench around her and after a few more strokes against my gspot i come undone, shaking uncontrollably against her. She leaves sloppy kisses against my neck as she lets me come down from my high in her lap.
Her fingers leave my body and we sit in silence fore a few moments, my breathing still slightly uncontrollable, G and Leah leaving the bathroom just as I had come undone. Lucy brings her fingers up to my mouth, letting me taste her achievement as I sit against her in complete defeat.
“Maybe think about your actions next time you flirt with my friends” She breathes in my ear, her hands softly caressing my thighs.
“Well if this is what I get for flirting with your friends then maybe I should do it more often” I chuckle as I lift myself off of her.
“Absolutely not.” Lucy warns before giving me a quick peck on the lips, unlocking the toilet door and following me to the sinks.
“You’re gonna have to return the favour when we get home though, look what you’ve done to me” She states as she guides my hand into her trousers, letting me feel how wet she was after pleasuring me. I audibly moan at the thought, before someone else enters the bathroom and my hand slips out from her underwear.
“C’mon” She chuckles as she leads me back outside.
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wileys-russo · 8 months
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Look just bare with me sit in my brain for a second imagine Stina is trying to flirt with reader and failing miserably and Katie is just sick of watching the awful flirting. Katie is trying to help Stina flirt with Reader and Stina is still failing. Katie tells her to take the physical approach and Stina like does that girly slap readers arm like “omg you’re so funny”. Katie is just absolutely astonished at how one can be so bad at flirting and she’s annoyed that Stina isn’t getting it. So Katie does what Katie does best and tackles Stina and that is how we get to the picture and she’s just like politely, quietly, yelling that this position is what she meant by flirting. And then we have Stina who is just like “that’s so aggressive. Why are you like this?” Like idk I just feel this would be funny.
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tongue tied II s.blackstenius
"i like your boots today y/n/n, they look very...very clean today." katie winced at the poor attempt at flirting which dropped from the blonde swedes mouth. "thanks stin." you chuckled with an amused smile before jogging off after viv for some shooting practice.
"what the hell was that!" katie shoved the blonde who watched you go with a pained look on her face. "i don't know! she makes me nervous." stina huffed, pulling her hair out and scraping it into a messy bun as katie shook her head.
the poor woman had been tongue tied around you ever since you were signed and joined the club this season, and stina's painstaking crush seemed obvious to absolutely everyone but you.
which was probably due to the fact stina couldn't flirt to save her life, and as much as she wanted to ask you out she just couldn't find the words.
katie determined to wingwoman the blonde had already established early on in the most unsubtle of ways that you were single and interested in woman, bluntly cornering you after training and firing a few questions your way until leah noticed the interrogation and dragged you away to safety.
it had been almost three weeks of stina tripping and stumbling over herself trying to let you know how she felt, too worried of rejection to directly ask you, but her poor attempts to feel out if you'd be interested by 'flirting' were just...painful.
"thats not how ya flirt with someone. you wanna make sure they know you like them, compliment her not her boots!" katie explained with a roll of her eyes as the tall blonde beside her nodded slowly. "try again, go on." katie pushed stina toward you, following just behind where she was still within earshot.
"wow that was a good kick! very uh strong and powerful." stina smiled after you knocked a goal into the top right corner, cheering as viv clapped you on the back. "oh my god." katie mumbled to herself, smacking her hand against her forehead, this was harder than she'd thought.
"was that better?" stina asked hopefully as katie caught up with her and you ran off again, this time chasing after gio who'd poured her water bottle down your back. "no, it was somehow worse." katie affirmed making the taller woman groan.
"when i said compliment her i meant like her eyes or how she looks good in the training kit or her laugh! something about her not about football." katie sighed, spotting lia walking toward them.
"like this, watch."
"oi wally, your biceps look good in that vest today. wanna bench press me?" katie grinned cheekily at her friend who playfully rolled her eyes but blew her a sarcastic kiss before continuing on past them.
"see! like that. now you try to flirt with me." katie ordered as stina nodded along. "uh the way that you have your shorts rolled up makes your thighs look big." stina tried, katie simply face palming again with a deep sigh.
"katie this is hard! i could do better in swedish but she will not understand." stina groaned, grumbling to herself in annoyance in her native language as she folded her arms over her chest, watching you kick the ball around with noelle and lotte on the other side of the pitch.
"okay, flirtin 101. new tactic!" katie clapped as stina nodded, eagerly listening. "when she says somethin funny, you smack her arm and laugh. like this!" katie smacked stina lightly on the shoulder and forced a laugh.
"okay. but what if what she says is not funny?" stina frowned as katie sighed. "you wait until she says somethin funny stina!"
~
"okay girls we're down by two. we need to isolate lessi and beth, that's whose causing us the most trouble." leah commanded in the huddle, the team split into four smaller teams for a wind down game.
"you're telling me. beth's flying today she's practically dancing around me!" you sighed tiredly, having been going one on one with the speedy blonde all game. "that was funny!" stina laughed as the huddle broke apart, punching you in the arm a lot harder than katie had demonstrated.
"ow! stina what was that for." you scowled at the taller blonde, rubbing your throbbing arm and shoving her lightly, katie pinching the bridge of her nose. stina apologizing hastily as you ran off to resume the game, looking to katie with wide eyes who held her hands up and jogged off after you onto the pitch.
once the game had finished, your team unfortunately losing by one singular goal the training staff called for free time before everyone was expected in the gym in an hour.
"what did i do wrong!" stina yanked her bib off and rushed right over to katie who was stretching. "ya punched her!" the irishwoman laughed with a shake of her head. "this is never going to work!" stina groaned, dropping to the floor with a groan.
"because ya don't listen stin! look, you do it like this." katie jumped on top of the blonde who screamed as she did, repeatedly demonstrating a light playful smack and laugh as stina struggled to throw her off.
"okay okay i understand! get off of me." stina grunted, finally shoving off the rambunctious brunette who fell to the floor as the swedish woman pulled herself to her feet with a determined huff.
"good. go get her!" katie ordered from the ground, pointing toward you where you were practicing your juggling, seemingly lost in your own world. but you were rudely snapped back into reality as a body slammed into you, a mess of blonde hair tackling you to the ground as you gave out a yell.
"you are very funny. go on a date with me!" stina sat on top of you as your eyes widened, both in shock from her words and the way your body had just been smacked into the ground.
"oh my fucking-" katie watched on in disbelief, flopping onto her back and burying her face in her hands with a defeated sigh.
"okay. but you could have just asked me stin!" you threw your head back, clutching at your stomach as you laughed at the abrupt unexpected situation, stina eventually joining you.
"then its a date, when we get back to london. i will organise it!" stina grinned happily, jumping up off of you and offering you a hand up. "sounds good. but next time just come talk to me, no more tackling or punching me!" you teased, kissing her cheek with a wink before you ran off with a beaming smile toward lotte to fill her in.
"katie! i did it! did you see?" stina bounded over to the irish woman who peeked out from her hands, frowning at the elated look on the blondes face. "that worked? she said yes?" katie scoffed, jumping to her feet as stina nodded eagerly.
"jesus, well. now i guess we have to work on your flirting for the date." "wait you have to flirt on the date!?"
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sudzymactavish · 1 month
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Can I ask a another request? I had so much ideas in my mind ya.
poly!tf141 x male reader, who is higher rank than them maybe is a major, he has a cold personality with others, but not with his team one day the task force sees the male reader flirting with a another man when the task force decide to "punish" the reader ya?
smut please and sir kink
YES. birdy, thank you for this ‼️ I'll be tweaking it a tiny bit but HERE WE GO
Yes, Sir.
TW: sex, bodily fluids, graphic descriptions of that sex, a little bit of angst, flirting, punishing (sexual), sir kink, SMUT!!!
You were a major overseeing the task force 141. What a bunch of idiots. They were always getting hurt, especially soap when he didn't wear his helmet on that one mission. You really let him have it that one time. Thank goodness Ghost and Price were more serious than Soap and Gaz, or else you would probably go insane.
But, it didn't mean you didn't have a soft spot for them. I mean, you can't help how charismatic they are. How Ghost gives you an assuring nod when you're indecisive. Price calling you darling with his smooth voice, Gaz's hand slightly grazes your hips while he walks past. How soap looks into your eyes with that loving stare—it's too much for you. You love them too much.
So, you flirted with another man. This one.. let's just say was not like the 141. He was boring. He smelled like nothing while you could bury yourself into your boy's necks for hours.
Maybe it's for the better. The 141 should be focusing on missions, not you. You're above them after all, they should be calling you sir instead of [your name]. Much less [your nickname].
It did hurt you with the thought of them not loving you anymore. You'll miss their affection. But.. it's what is best. After excusing yourself, you just went to your office.
You hadn't noticed you fell asleep in your chair. As you awoke, the 4 men stood behind your desk.
"Ah- 141. Why are you here?" You tried to act natural, as if you weren't sleeping just seconds ago. We saw ye flirtin with that man. Soap spoke, clearly jealous. Actually, all the men looked some form of jealous. Gaz spoke up next. Yea. What's up with tha'? Ghost and Price scowled along with the other two.
"I don't understand the problem." You coldly replied. 'They shouldn't be fooling around with their superior. It was such a mistake to even get romantically involved with these people-'
Your thoughts were interrupted by a hug. Ghost had wrapped his arms around your smaller body. He didn't speak. He just.. held you. You couldn't help as your body melted under him. "...I'm sorry boys. It's just that I'm your superior and I didn't want to distract you. It's unfair, I'm a distraction." You hung your head low. The 3 others came and wrapped their arms around you.
It was quiet for some time in the office. It was nice. It wasn't a sad or awkward silence, just tranquility with your boys.
The following days were nicer. More calm. Soap and Gaz toned down their craziness a tad while Ghost brought you a cuppa occasionally. Some days, Price would take some of your papers and do them for you, taking some stress off your already overloaded brain.
You could sense they were a little bit upset still from when you flirted with that man. Soap and Gaz glared at him, Ghost was always somehow with you 24/7, and you even caught Price telling the man not to go anywhere near you. You had to find a way to calm their nerves...
This was so wrong. It was wrong for you to buy that stupid little lingerie set. 'Are you daft??' You screamed at your brain, but your body didn't stop putting the lace on you. After you were done, you looked into the mirror. You didn't look too bad, actually. You admired yourself, so much that you didn't notice all 4 boys come in.
You were so embarrassed. You didn't lock the door when you knew you'd be undressing!? Those poor boys!
You covered yourself and started spewing all sorts of apologies and excuses, until a finger covered your lips.
Shh, hush love. We all know why you bought those. Planning to seduce us, hmm?
Such a bad boy. What should we do?
I've go' a few ideas.
We should punish 'im.
I like your thoughts, Kyle.
The men came closer, as you felt your embarrassment fade away and arousal taking its place.
Just seconds later, you were on the floor.
I'm not sure boys. Should we fuck 'im with it on or tear it off him?
And waste this pretty view!? Captain, we can't do tha'!
The other two boys nodded, siding with Soap. Thank goodness, you spent so much money on this.
Sir, may I go in this hole? Gaz spoke, opening your legs and pushing aside the lace and caressing your rim. Fuck. You felt yourself harden at that word.
Wait just a minute! I wanna fuck 'im there! Soap protested, pushing Gaz aside.
Well then. What do you want, lovie?
You swallowed. "Well.. who says you both can't go at the same time?" You smiled.
Now, Gaz and Soap were holding your legs open and going down on you like a pair of dogs. Wolves, even. Your dick was painfully hard, tears of pleasure and pain pricking the sides of your eyes.
You looked up to Ghost, your pleading eyes telling him everything. You poor thing. Ghost spoke, his hand drifting down to your neglected dick and stroking it. You humped his hand, arching your back, praying for a release.
"Please, please Ghost make me cum." You begged.
Yes, sir.
Your release found you, coating Ghost's hand in a sticky substance.
I guess we've found sir's kink. Soap chuckled, fist bumping Gaz. Your dick hardened again, earning a pathetic whimper from you. Want us to keep goin' sir? You nodded hastily.
You felt Price's dick touch your fingertips, and you accepted by dragging your hand up and down it. Ghost sped up on your own dick, making you release more than you could even count at the time, as your mind was clouded with ecstasy.
Hours later, your body was filled with cum. It was satisfying to be so full.. especially by the men you loved. They took care of your tired body, cleaning you up and canceling your meetings for the day. They just let you rest. Of course, until Soap slipped up and called you sir. Your dick hardened again.. and who were the boys than to refuse seconds?
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eilidh-eternal · 5 months
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Chapter 2 - Places!
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Simon Riley x Johnny MacTavish x F!Reader 4.4K words Warnings/tags: 18+ MDNI, mild swearing, feelings of loneliness/isolation, imposter syndrome, feelings of anxiety, reader is oblivious to Johnny and Simon's advances. Masterlist
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Delaney O’Riordan, despite her petite frame, pulls you along with a strength that rivals some of your male counterparts in the English National Ballet, iron grip wrapped firmly around your bicep as she berrates you for making her come looking for you. 
“What on earth are ya’ doin’ down here?! An’ drinkin’ no less!” She doesn’t let you get a word in as she hauls you out of the hotel bar away from the two men, through the lobby, and herds you into the lift. “We’ve forty-five minutes to get to the theater and you’re down here flirtin’ with strangers?”
“Laney, it’s fine. My bag is packed and I’m dressed to go, all we need to do is grab it from the room and catch the bus. It’ll take thirty minutes, tops,” you assure the fiery-tempered woman as the doors to the lift close and she presses the button for your floor. “And I wasn’t flirting.” You weren’t, right? You just lost your balance. He’d caught you–they’d caught you–and set you upright again. That was it. No flirting. Even if the way the dark-haired man had called you pretty made your stomach flip-flop the same way it does every time Connor has to toss you through the air in rehearsals, and the way the blond wearing the mask, Simon you think he was called, made your skin warm with the hand that lingered on your back for longer than any polite touch should have.
“Aye, so you admit you were drinkin’ then?” Delaney crosses her arms and fixes you with an admonishing glare.
“It was just a cocktail, a mint julep. There was hardly any liquor in it,” you say in an attempt to placate her, knowing her irritation comes from a place of concern rather than annoyance. “Just something to calm the opening night jitters.” Despite decades of experience and many, many opening nights for productions big and small, for company exhibitions and tours abroad, some of them still had you tapping your fingers methodically over your thighs and shifting your weight from one foot to another every few seconds.
Her gaze softens but her arms remain folded tight to her chest. She knows tonight is important. It’s your first show as the company’s first principal dancer. The prima ballerina of the English National Ballet, dancing the lead role of one of the most quintessential ballets—a night that will define the rest of your career. “You’re going to do just fine tonight. I know it feels different, having the title now, but you’ve danced this role before. You’ll dance it hundreds of times more, no doubt, now you’ve made a name for yourself. The Bolshoi will be beggin’ ya to dance for ‘em in Moscow after tonight. I know it.” 
You scoff at this. “Bolshoi made Swan Lake, Laney, they don’t let just anyone dance for them. Especially for Odette and Odile.” You couldn’t imagine being asked to the Bolshoi Ballet. It’s one of the oldest, toughest, companies to dance with and for. Their dancers are all hand selected, scouted for their looks and physique in their youth, and train with a militaristic intensity to be the best of the best. The Soviet and American schools of ballet are both similar in that way. Aggressive. Emphasizing and attacking their movements and the sharp lines of their form with an energy the English and French schools lean away from. But that was the very reason why you’d been offered a contract with the Kensington-based company. For your ability to dance the part of Odette with the elegance and grace required for the demure damsel, and simultaneously portray the brazen and arrogant seductress Odile, who moves with much darker intentions. A duality that is coveted among dancers.
The soft ‘ding’ of the lift alerts you to the fact that you’ve reached your floor, heavy doors sliding open to reveal the gaudy carpet and busy wallpaper lining the hallway of the hotel you’re staying in for the time being. You nod a brief goodbye to Delaney, promising to meet her in the lobby, and step off the lift. The room is comfortable, has everything you need and is by no means lacking, but still it’s less than ideal. You miss your cozy apartment in the suburbs, the early but peaceful mornings before rush hour and all the sounds that come with it, and the beaux-arts architecture giving way to modern urban highrises. Soho isn’t that different, all things considered, but staying in a hotel until you can find a new apartment in London leaves you feeling out of place and untethered with just a few suitcases full of essentials and a contract for work in your possession. It makes you feel temporary. In this city. In this job. Easily replaced at a moment's notice. You try not to imagine what your life would look like if those things were true, pushing away the poisonous and intrusive notion that at any moment you’ll wake up from this dream and mourn it for being just that–a subconscious fantasy–as you sling your duffel over your shoulder and head back down to the lobby to meet Delaney and catch the bus. 
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Backstage at the London Coliseum thrums with the typical pre-show chaos. Last minute adjustments to props and the set before rolling everything into place behind the curtains, mending any overlooked rips or tears in costumes sustained in dress rehearsal, and hundreds of dancers, crew and musicians fluttering about the narrow halls between dressing and storage rooms. Hairspray lingers thick in the air of the dressing rooms and the scent of gels and pomade have a cloying effect that leaves you grateful for the privilege your status as first principal affords you. A green room. 
It’s not very big. Just enough space for a backlit vanity, a rolling costume rack, small loveseat and a powder room. It feels odd, not sharing a room with fifty or sixty other dancers as you prepare for the show. Feels even stranger that someone else is doing that for you now, slicking back your hair and affixing your headpiece, rouging your cheeks and lining your lips in a blush tone. One more thing you’ll have to get used to.
Once the hair and makeup artist deems their work is finished you waste no time breaking in your pointe shoes and allowing yourself a final warmup before leaving your little bubble of calm amidst the chaos of opening night. The sound of the orchestra checking their pitch and tuning accordingly mixes with the chatter of the settling audience, and as the stage manager announces five minutes to showtime the wings of the stage begin to fill with all manner of performers. Everyone stretches, marks choreography, and goes about their pre-show rituals, wishing one another a good performance with smiles and encouraging embraces. Across the stage, you find Delaney smiling at you among the other dancers in the wings. She lifts her hands, presses them together in the shape of a heart over her chest, and you mirror the gesture. ‘Good show.’
“Places!” the final call rings out, and the house lights dim. The audience falls silent as the opening bars played by the orchestra signal the opening of the stage curtain, and with a deep, steadying breath, you leave behind the wings to take the stage.
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By the time you step off stage you’re exhausted but elated. You had a stellar performance, a standing ovation from the crowd, and your directors sing their praises to you all the way from the stage after curtain call to your green room. However, the theatrics aren’t quite done for the night. There is to be a rotation of swans to pose with families for photos after each performance, and as first principal you are expected to set an example. That’s how you found yourself back in front of the vanity with another hair and makeup artist taming your hair back into place and making adjustments to your makeup. A costumer comes to help you change, guides a pair of wings onto your shoulders and shows you how to fasten them to your wrists, how to pose with them, and you’re sent off to the lobby.
You greet each child with a hug, mindful of the extra berth required to do so with the wings, and smile for cellphone cameras through the pain radiating from your knees and ankles. Some of the smaller children are too enamored with the feathers and the rhinestone-dusted gossamer to pay attention to their parents, and it takes several attempts to steal their attention away and take a satisfactory photo. Parents throw apologetic smiles your way as the children all take their turns, and you assure those who voice them that it’s really no trouble at all, though the twinging of your right knee would beg to differ. You’re holding a back attitude, relying on the small section of barre hidden behind the small recreation of the lake erected around you to maintain your balance and sustain the pose with your leg high in the air behind you, and you nearly sigh in relief when the child in front of you darts back to their parents once the photo is taken.
That relief is short lived, however, as you come back down on two feet again and turn to greet the next family. You’re wholly unprepared to find the dark-haired, blue-eyed man from the bar, masked, blond companion at his side, towering over you.
“Hello, little bird,” the former greets you and a roguish grin tugs at the corners of his mouth. 
He has a mohawk. You hadn’t noticed in the bar, and you tell yourself it must have been the dim lighting that had kept that detail hidden from you. It certainly wasn’t the way his arm had felt wrapped snugly around your waist, or the way concern shone in his eyes and made them look more like sta-
“Yer friend carted ye off before we could have a proper introduction. Name’s Johnny. Ye remember Simon,” he says with a gesture to the statuesque, masked blond, and you force the shocked expression from your face and replace it with a polite smile, nodding in recognition.
“Yes. It’s… nice to meet you both. Officially. Would- would you like a picture together?”
Simon’s eyes dart towards Johnny and the shorter man turns his face up to meet his gaze. There’s a moment of silence between the two, an internal conversation you’re not privy to. When Johnny looks to you again there’s an impish look about him, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he steps forward, leaving Simon with his phone.
“Si isn’t fond of photos,” he says as he approaches, sidling up to you between the wooden props. He bends down to whisper into the shell of your ear, “We’d like to have a photo of ye though, pretty little bird that ye are.”
Heat blooms across your cheeks, and before your brain can fully process the implication of his words he’s wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. Your lips part on a yelp of surprise as you’re suddenly being hefted into the air and-
He’s perched you on his shoulder, you realize with no small degree of shock, a large, steadying hand firm on your thigh and the other resting on your shin just above your ankle. The look in his eyes and the sultry smile he gives you as he peers up at your shocked expression causes your stomach to flip and you grip onto his other shoulder to balance yourself. “Sorry for the scare, hen, but I can’t have our pretty bird stranded on the ground. Ye should be up there,” he says with a wink. 
What do you even say to that? 
“It’s ok, I just- I wasn’t prepared is all,” you reason aloud and cross your ankles, willing yourself to relax in his hold. When you lift your gaze from Johnny’s you find Simon right where you left him, brows pinched together in what you think is exasperation, but the corners of his eyes crinkle in a way that suggests amusement. 
“Quit your yappin’, Johnny, and look ‘ere,” he grumbles, and Johnny does as he’s told, reluctantly tears his gaze away from you to look at Simon, holding up his phone for the photo.
You plaster a demure smile over your features, hold yourself steady with a hand on Johnny's shoulder, thick, corded muscle rippling beneath- No. Stop. Now is not the time for thoughts like this. This man is a stranger and you’re still at work. You inwardly chastise yourself and extend your free arm above your head, attempting a loose fourth position, posing prettily for the photo, and dutifully ignoring the warmth of Johnny’s hands on your legs, how solid he feels beneath you. 
Just as easily as he’d hoisted you upon his shoulder he guides you gently back to the ground, hands lingering around your waist, unwilling to let you go again. “We want to ask ye somethin’,” he says as Simon steps forward, hand finding its way to the small of his back and Johnny’s hands pull away from your waist reluctantly to lean closer to Simon. “When yer done here with…” He pauses and gestures broadly to your wings and costume, and his smile turns apologetic. “Performance? I’m sorry, I dinnae ken what to call it. But, we’d like to have a proper drink with ye.” He looks hopeful as he slips his hands inside his pockets, and Simon’s head tilts ever so slightly to the side as they wait for your response.
You? They want to have a drink with you? You shift your weight nervously from one foot to the other, fighting to hide the scrunch of your nose as your knee barks under the pressure. “I won’t be done here for at least another hour, it will be quite late.”
“That’s not an issue for us,” Simon quickly supplies. “You’re stayin’ at the Broadwick?”
You nod.
“We’ll meet you there then, at the bar. Same place as before.” His voice is confident. Commanding. He says it like it's a fact, like you’ve already agreed. And at this point, you might as well. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious about the two men. Curious about Johnny’s flirtatiousness and Simon’s encouragement of it. And you need friends outside the company. Someone who you can talk to about boring and mundane things like the weather or how outrageous the price of a latte is at that little corner bakery you’d been frequenting. Something other than commiserating over long rehearsals and the blisters they cause, or how the director was in a sour mood with the cast that day over something beyond their ability to control. Anything other than work.
“Ok,” you finally agree, and you think Johnny's face might tear in two if his smile were any wider.
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An hour and a half later you’ve returned to the hotel and rushed yourself into the shower, scrubbing at your skin with a soapy washcloth and carefully avoiding getting your hair wet. It’s still done up nice enough, and there's no sense in going downstairs looking like a drowned rat with damp hair when it’s already been… Shit, they’ve been waiting nearly an hour. You speed through the rest of your routine, washing the thick show makeup off your face, digging around in your suitcase for the sweater dress you know is here somewhere- Ah! There, buried under a mountain of leotards, and, graciously, next to the comfy flats you planned to wear with it. You trade the generic hotel bathrobe for the dress and step gingerly into your flats, mindful of the blisters already forming, and spare a few minutes more to swipe some mascara over your lashes and conceal the ever present dark circles of exhaustion under your eyes before heading downstairs.
Your heart pounds behind your ribs the same way it had earlier in the evening standing in the wings at the start of the show, and you take slow, deep breaths as you approach the hotel bar, half expecting to find it empty after you've kept them waiting for so long. You wouldn’t blame them if they’d left already. It’s nearly eleven p.m. on a Thursday, well past late for most of the working professionals in the city.
And yet, there they sit, occupying the same seats at the bar they had hours earlier. Johnny spots you first, beaming at you from over Simon’s shoulder, and your heart calms a bit, flooding with relief at the sight of his smiling face and easing some of your fear that they would be upset having waited so long.
“I’m so sorry for making you wait down here, I didn’t want to show up covered in sweat or looking like I’d come straight from the shower-” you say by way of greeting, and Johnny is quick to smother your apologies.
“Dinna fash, hen,” he interrupts, standing from his seat and guiding you to take his place on it with a warm hand on the small of your back. “We didn't mind waitin’. Had ourselves a nice little chat, eh Si?”
You settle yourself on the barstool and Simon hums thoughtfully beside you. “We did.” 
Johnny takes the open seat beside you, angling his body so that he can brace an arm on the bar top and sit facing you. “So our little bird’s a dancer?”
“‘S a bit obvious, Johnny,” Simon quips.
Johnny huffs an exaggerated sigh as he retorts, “Aye, but what if she’s not really? Could be a spy. The Russians have done it before,” he says and winks in your direction.
Simon groans but you can’t help grinning at Johnny’s teasing. “Yes, I'm a dancer. Not a spy. I don’t think they could keep up with our training.”
Johnny lifts a curious brow and leans forward. “How long do ye train for somethin’ like that?”
You make a show of pausing to think before answering. “Hmm, it’s been a little over twenty years now, twenty-two I think?”
He mutters something under his breath that sounds like swearing. “Twenty-two years?!” 
Simon’s eyes shine a rich, amber color in the low light of the bar, and a glimmer of something akin to recognition passes through them as he nods appreciatively. “Ya must be good at it then, if you’ve worked that long for it.”
You feel warmth blooming across your cheeks and a similar warmth working its way from your chest to your stomach, lower, as his eyes, the only part of his face visible above the mask, continue to study you, and your dress suddenly feels too tight against your skin. “I’m as good as any other dancer who’s worked most of their life for it.” A modest answer. 
“Which one were ye then, on stage tonight? Were ye one of the swans?” Johnny’s voice pulls you out of the hold Simon’s wandering gaze has on you. You blink several times to clear your thoughts, and when you finally turn your attention back to him he's smiling down at you with a glimmering fascination in his own eyes.
You hesitate, briefly consider lying so they don’t make a fuss over the truth, but ultimately can’t find it in yourself to do so. “Yes, two of them actually. Odette and Odile.”
Johnny’s brows furrow, and Simon sighs with feigned annoyance but explains for him anyways, “She’s the swan Johnny. She’s the leading lady.”
“Christ, yer the star of the whole thing and yer playin’ it off like yer just in the background! I’d be tellin’ everyone if it were me.”
“Thankfully she’s not. She has class, something you could use more of,” Simon chides and you laugh quietly to yourself at their back and forth.
Johnny looks as if he’s about to come back with another smartalec comment but the arrival of the bartender defuses his need to have the last laugh as a glass of scotch is pushed towards him, a mint julep for you, and a tumbler of bourbon for Simon. Johnny takes the drink without question, swirling the contents of the glass and taking a slow sip, but it’s your turn now to pinch your brows in confusion.
“I didn’t- I haven’t ordered anything?” 
“The bartender came by while you were explainin’ your trainin’ to Johnny. I ordered for us,” Simon explains.
You look from Simon to the drink in front of you, brows still pinched together.
“‘S what you ordered earlier, would ya rather have somethin’ else?”
“No! No, this is perfect, thank you. It’s just… I don’t think anyone’s ever bothered to pay that much attention to me?” you quickly explain, pulling the mixed drink towards you.
“Aye, he’s a charming bastard like that. Observant to a fault.”
You hum in answer and bring the glass to your lips, taking a slow, savoring sip.
“How long have ye been in london?” Johnny toys with the glass in his hand as he watches you, tracking the movement of your throat and your tongue as it darts out to swipe across your lower lip.
“We’ve just come back from tour a few weeks ago, so not long.”
“And you’ve been stayin’ in a hotel?” Simon seems perturbed at the notion.
“Hard to look for a place to live when you’ve been on tour for three months.” You take a longer sip from your drink this time. You really need to dedicate some time to that this week, maybe contact a real estate agent.
Simon and Johnny share a look, another unspoken conversation between themselves, and that glimmer of recognition returns to Simon’s eyes. “We’re… familiar, with that particular struggle.” When you turn to him with a puzzled expression he explains, “We travel a lot for work.”
“You work together?” 
“Somethin’ like that,” and that’s the end of it. Their closeness makes sense then, if they travel together often. It’s hard not to get close to someone when you're obligated to be with them all the time. Hell, it’s the reason why you and Delaney are so close, having shared a room while on tour. 
“D’ye have a borough in mind?” Johnny asks to redirect the topic of conversation back to you.
“The studio is in southern Kensington, close to Stamford Bridge, and we perform at the coliseum and Royal Albert Hall when we aren’t touring, so I’m hoping I can find something centrally located. Maybe in Belgravia or Westminster.” The few places you've been able to find online are quite pricey, but your contracted salary is enough for a decent flat in either neighborhood. It’s not like you order takeaway every night and your busy schedule certainly doesn’t allow you to party every weekend. Well, maybe the takeaway part isn’t exactly true. Frozen dinners from Tesco don’t count as takeaway, do they? Either way, if you have to spend the money, it may as well go towards a comfortable and conveniently located appartment, even if it’s overpriced. 
“Bit of a highbrow area,” Simon comments and Johnny does his best not to outright snort when he starts to laugh, taking a long swig from his half-empty glass of scotch.
“Highbrow is an understatement. Ye’d be a stone's throw from the palace in either borough,” he seems to agree, and tacks on under his breath as he drains his glass, “The whole south of London is full of posh bampots.”
Simon huffs from behind you and when you peer up at him you’re met with a simmering glare pointed in Johnny’s direction. 
“Och, dinnae gi’ me tha’ look Si. Ah Ken yer fer Queen an’ country, but ye ken well enough how Ah feel aboot-“
You try and fail to hide your amusement, doubling over to clutch at your sides in a fit of giggles and half-suppressed laughter, finding both Johnny’s thickening accent and disdain for the richer neighborhoods and the stuck-up personalities they breed within them comical in an ironic sort of way. You’d always been of a similar opinion, holding contempt for the privileged and entitled attitudes of the people who lived in gated communities—and now you would be one of them. 
When you regain your composure and right yourself once more, your lungs take longer to catch up, breath stalling in your chest as you realize you’re being watched.
In the dim lighting, Johnny’s eyes are luminescent, the reflections of headlights as cars pass by the window like comets blazing a path across the steely-blue night, and it reignites the warmth you’d felt under Simon’s gaze. He regards you with the kind of rapturous intensity you think a soul ascended to the gates of heaven might behold a guardian angel and the heavenly fire they wield, and it leaves you breathless. It sucks the air from the room like a raging inferno, rips the oxygen from your lungs and replaces it with delicate whispers of smoke and a burning need to draw lungfuls of the very thing he’s stolen from you, but all you can do is inhale the intoxicating fumes it leaves in his wake. 
“Sorry, it’s just… the irony, and your accent. I didn’t mean-” 
“No dove, don’t apologize. Not for makin’ such beautiful sounds for us,” he says in a husky voice and that spark of heat flares brighter, low in your belly.
Oh. Oh… Your denial of all his flirty comments and your resolve to ignore them begins to disintegrate as you realize this isn't just some bit for him. He really means it. He simply watches you for a moment longer, and you shift nervously under the scrutiny of his gaze until you think he must know you're having trouble breathing because a slow, confident grin splits his lips as he looks past you, over your shoulder to where Simon leans casually against the bar. His glass of bourbon is somehow empty despite never seeing him drink from it and he’s bent forward at the waist, elbow braced against the bar top and his fist pressed to his temple.
“Think I could get drunk off’a that,” he murmurs, and you know that no other proclamation has ever sounded as delightfully dangerous as those eight words.
En Pointe>>>
©️Eilidh-Eternal.2024 ~ The intellectual property of Eilidh-Eternal is not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or use with AI technologies.
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dixonsgirl93 · 27 days
Text
More to Grab, eh?
Simon x plus-size!fem!reader
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~~
You were relaxing with some of the 141 team and your brother, John MacTavish in a bar one evening.
Gaz leans over the table, half-empty beer glass in his hands. “So wait. Why are you single?”
“Watch it, Gaz.” Johnny warned but you knew he wasn’t serious, mostly. You knew he trusted his teammates with his life but still, you were his little sister.
“What? I’m just asking.” He glanced back over at you, making your skin hot.
“Honestly?” He nodded. “I guess I’ve just stopped tryin’, maybe even avoiding dating ‘cause…I’ve gained weight recently.” You hug your tummy, almost to emphasise your insecurity about it.
Simon made a noise across the table. He was wearing his balaclava, though he lifted it to take a swig now and then. You stopped questioning Johnny and even wondering why he still wore it around his team. Albeit you were there and definitely not on the team but you doubted it was simply mistrust, more so a comfort. If no one could see his identity, he was safe.
You looked over at him but he was looking into his glass. “What’s funny?” You ask.
He shook his head. “Nothing.”
“Nah, c’mon, Lt.” Johnny asked, sitting up.
Simon looked up at everyone watching him.
“It wasn’t bad. It was just…” He locked eyes with Johnny and hesitated.
“What?” You prodded. You had to know now.
He took a breath and locked eyes with you before he spoke. “I was just thinking…a little extra weight is just more to grab.” Silence followed his words and you could have sworn he smirked under his mask. There was a light in his eyes that hadn’t been there a second ago.
Gaz wheezed out a laugh while Johnny just stared at his best friend incredulously.
“What the fuck was that?” He said, but without the conviction of anger he was trying to show.
You, meanwhile, were trying desperately to hide your blush behind your cocktail, fighting images of Simon’s hands all over you; images that had never been there before. The two of you never spoke much and you had no idea what he even looked like, yet…those words changed everything. You were sure he knew that too.
“Watch out, Johnny. Simon might steal your sister.” Gaz joked, the tail end of his laugh still twinkling in his eyes.
“Jesus. I need another drink.” Johnny stood and went to the bar. While he was up there, Gaz excused himself for a smoke and Price pulled out his phone.
Simon found the opportunity to slide into Johnny’s empty seat. He leaned in to you. “Don’t worry, love. I didn’t mean anything by it. You’re gorgeous so don’t worry about the extra weight. The right guy will love your curves.”
“Like you, apparently.” You teased, smirking at him.
He raised one eyebrow quickly, his eyes squinting slightly as if he was smiling.
“Johnny would kill me.” He murmured, looking over to the bar to see your brother frowning at the both of you sitting together. “See?”
“Nah, he wouldn’t. He trusts you. He’s great at reading people, although he jokes around and stuff a lot, people forget that.”
“I agree. He’s a great man. That’s why I could never corrupt his little sister.” He nudges you playfully in the arm but that touch and his words send electric waves through you.
“Corrupt? You think I’m innocent? Now that’s adorable.” It’s at about this point when you realise you’re flirting with the masked man. Who previously you’d had very little to do with. Maybe he found encouragement in breathing those first words aloud?
This time he laughed for real, a deep rumble in his throat. It was like music.
Johnny sat down in Simon’s old seat, placing 2 drinks down, sliding one over to you. “Thanks.”
“You two’d better not be flirtin’ over ‘ere.” He frowned, putting on his big brother show.
“Oh piss off, I’m a grown woman. I can do what I please.” You take a deep swig of your fresh drink, feeling your earlier embarrassment melt away.
“Oh? Musical chairs in here?” Gaz was back and immediately noticed the new seating arrangement. “Did I tell you or did I tell you?” He winked at Johnny who frowned in return.
~~
Should I continue?
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k4marina · 8 months
Text
simon“ghost”riley x fem!reader
warnings: none, spelling/grammer possibly
“you should wear a suit more often, you look nice.”
your freshly manicured hand held the wine glass up to your lips. the expensive red wine had a rich scent. the bartender had something about it being made in the 1920s, but you didn’t pay much attention and focused on how your lieutenant looked tonight.
simon wore a nicely fitted three piece suit. it was black with thin white stripes coming down vertically. he wore a off white, almost light blue dress shirt and a black tie.
he had forgone his signature mask seeing that it didn’t fit the mood for tonight. his clean shaven face and sharp jawline was on display for everyone. a few women had already tried to flirt with him when he had gone up to the bar.
he reminded you of those models in those magazines you got sent in the mail. except, simon looked way better than them.
he eyes mirrored yours, swirling with mischief. “don’t start what you can’t finish, love.” he adjusted his posture, leaning back in his seat and spreading his legs open.
fucking prick.
“whatever do you mean?” you feigned ignorance, batting your lashes at him with doe eyes. if he was going to make you squirm then why couldn’t you do the same to him?
he let out something that sounds like a mix of a grunt and a growl. simons eyes raked over you. you wore a black dress with off the shoulder puff sleeves with a sweetheart neckline. the dress reached floor length, hugging your curves in the right places. your hair was styled nicely to show off your neck and the diamond necklace that dipped low into the valley of your breast.
“my eyes are up here.”
his brown eyes flickered to yours, amused at your confidence. “what? is it wrong for me to look at something i like?”
heat creeped up your neck and to your ears. what a fucking flirt. god, he was so smug which didn’t help make him any less attractive.
“i never said it was wrong to look, just..” your eyes trailed along the ballroom filled with wealthy elites and tycoons all enjoying themselves and the luxuries of their lives. “maybe not in the middle of a packed ballroom.”
his lips pulled back to a smirk. he lifts his glass up to his lips, keeping eye contact and took a sip of his bourbon.
“you suggesting somewhere more private?”
you shrugged, “i’m not opposed to the idea of that.” he leaned over, forearms on the table, mirroring your stance. your faces were just a few inches away. you could smell the bourbon and his cologne on him.
“so what do you say?”
“i say you two need to pipe down.”
you rolled your eyes, “is that so gaz?”
“for the love of christ, stop flirtin’ your gonna make me gag.” your earpiece slightly vibrated as he spoke.
“hello to you too, soap.” you and simon sat back down in your original positions.
“don’t “hello” me while you two eye-fuck each other from across the table-“
“that’s enough, mctavish.” simon grunted.
another voice piped up, “you muppets better start paying attention. you’re on a mission — not a date.”
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lacontroller1991 · 1 year
Text
Bull Ride (Rick Flag x F!Reader)
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Main Master List || DC Master List
Warnings: SMUT 18+, language, dirty talk, sexual suggestions, drinking, innuendos, girl on top, unestablished relationship, unprotected sex (wrap it up folks), creampie, uncovered feelings, tipsy sex with consent
Inspired by a conversation with @a-reader-and-a-writer a long time ago.
-----------
Rick looks over his shoulder for the ninth time in a row, his hands gripping his mug a little tighter each time as he watches you laugh in amusement, a smile never leaving your face as you watch man after man get tossed from the mechanical bull. Rick grumbles at the sight, swirling his beer around before downing it and making his way over to the crowd.
Tapping on the announcer's shoulder, Rick asks to be next as he catches your eyes from the arena, a perfect brow raised in question.
"Alright folks, our next contestant is Rick!" The crowd cheers around him but his ears tune out all the others, only focusing on the way you cheer his name. The man places a worn cowboy hat on Rick's parted hair before giving him a slap on the back. "Good luck." Rick nods as he hops over the barricade and straddles the mechanical bull. Gripping onto the handle with one hand, Rick holds onto the hat as the bull slowly begins to move. After picking up pace, Rick's body flows with each rough thrust of the bull. People around him cheering and screaming in support as Rick manages to stay on the bull longer than most of the previous riders.
You, on the other hand, can't help the way the blush slowly blooms under your skin as your eyes fixate on his posture and how it moves in tandem. And his hips. His damn hips. "Hot damn." A girl next to you mutters as she twirls a finger in her hair, her heated gaze watching Rick's body. You roll your eyes in annoyance as jealousy creeps in. It's not like he's yours. He's merely a friend, a coworker, but damn you wish he was yours. You take another sip of the drink in your hand as the bull starts to slow down.
"Alright, easy there cowboy. Don't wanna show up everybody now," the announcer jokes as the bull comes to a complete stop, allowing Rick to slip off with grace and make his way over to you, a shit eating grin on his face, but before he can make a comment, the girl from earlier steps in.
"Howdy cowboy. Wanna take me for a ride?" You have to resist the urge to kick her ass into the floor as Rick lightly places his hands on her arms and pushes her to the side, unveiling you.
"Enjoy the show?"
"Oh for sure. You were definitely entertaining," you comment, plucking the hat off his head and placing it on yours, a sudden surge of confidence flowing through you. "Though I'd like to see what else those hips could do, Colonel."
Rick chuckles, taking the drink out of your hand, the adrenaline from the ride and alcohol coursing through his veins and giving him the courage to flirt back. "Well darlin', that's if you can handle the ride."
"What makes you think I can't, Colonel?" Rick blushes as your manicured hand traces down his covered abdomen. "I don't think you could handle the rider."
Rick takes a step closer, walking into your touch and you can't deny the pure energy that flows between the contact. "Why don't we get outta here and find out?" Your previously hooded eyes shoot wide open as you take in the meaning of his words and for a second you can see the regret in Rick's eyes at the bold suggestion. "I mean, we don't actually have to. I was just flirtin'. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable." He mentally beats himself up as his eyes roam the room, finding interest in a random hole on the wall. He knows he shouldn't have said anything. He knows he should've stuck to just keeping things professional but a hand on his forearm stirs him from his thoughts as he looks down at you, sporting a soft smile.
"No, no." You're quick to reassure him. "I could go for a ride."
You and Rick kiss each other with a blind passion, teeth clanging against each other as he backs you and him through the door to his apartment. Falling onto the couch, Rick's hands fall to your hips and drag you on top, your legs straddling either side of his legs as his hands roam around your body.
Breaking away, the two of you pant as you hastily get undressed, dying to have full skin on skin contact. Slipping off his lap, you shove your pants and underwear off before yanking your shirt off, sitting naked on his couch as he shoves his pants down enough for his cock to spring out and slap against his stomach, precum leaking out of the tip. He immediately grabs his member and gives himself a couple of pumps as you reposition yourself over his lap.
"Are you sure about this, we can stop." You shake your head, pushing his hand away and grabbing his member, running the tip over your wet folds.
"1000%. You have no clue how many times I've thought of this." Rick smirks at your comment, his hands falling to your hips.
"Is that so? You think about this? About us?" You nod, jolting forward slightly when his tips nudges your clit. "How often?"
You don't know if now is the time to be admitting your feelings for the colonel, but judging by the way he's looking at you with hope in his lustful eyes. Might as well. "Every night."
Rick resists the urge to break out in a big grin and hop from his chair in excitement at your proclamation of attraction, after all, it means that he has a 99.9% chance that you would say yes to a date if he would ask and he likes those odds. Instead, he hangs his head and smiles softly, a perfect ash blond lock falling to his forehead and you immediately push it back, causing him to look up at you from his position. "How about we take this to the bed?"
"I think I'd like that." Rick nods his head before standing up and carrying you to his bedroom as your hands mess with his short cropped hair. It doesn't take long before he is laying you out on the bed and slotting himself between your legs, his large frame covering yours.
"Are you absolutely sure?" His normal hazel eyes now seem a dark brown in the dark of the night as he stares down at you, looking for any sign of hesitation.
Smirking, you wrap your legs around his waist and flip him over to where you situate yourself on top, breasts heaving with each breath causing Rick to drool. He always knew you like to be in charge, in fact it sometimes causes arguments between the two of you, but now? Rick doesn't think he minds you in control. "I did say I was gonna ride you, didn't I?"
Taking control of the situation, you grab ahold of his member before lining him up with your sex and slip him in as the both of you groan at the sensation. You had always fantasized about how Rick would feel buried in you, fantasized about how big he is, but in comparison to the real thing, your fantasies severely underestimated how it would actually feel. "Fuck darlin'. You're so tight."
Blush blooms underneath your cheeks as you hesitantly roll your hips, watching his face and gauging for a reaction. Much like on the field and in the office, Rick shows little to no expression at the movement of your hips. Normally you would pass off his stoic behavior as just him keeping to himself, but you really don't think now is the time for him to be silent. Stilling yourself, you place your hands on his chest, being very careful to avoid the angry scar down his left pec. "Y'know Rick, my job would be easier if you gave me some sort of clue as to how you feel."
Rick honestly didn't realize his stoic behavior. If he's being honest with himself, he's just trying to keep his cool and to not cum in you. If he did, he doesn't think he would be able to forgive himself for embarrassing him in front of you, especially during sex. Instead, Rick's large hands place themselves on your hips as he guides you along his member, sitting up and sliding deeper into you, the tip of his member hitting your cervix, causing you to gasp while Rick smirks. "Trust me darlin', I feel amazing." He captures your lips against his, your hips moving in tandem with each other as he slides in and out of you with ease. "Don't think I'll be able to last much longer with the way you rock those hips."
If you thought he already had a southern accent, the alcohol and the lust make it ten fold and if you didn't know who you were with, you would probably assume that you weren't with Rick. Still, his accent, his scent, the way he feels in you, the heat of his skin, and the way he holds you in his grasp has your orgasm approaching. Knotting your hands in his hair, you let mindless fingers pull at soft tufts as your pants get louder, spurring the colonel on. "That's it, darlin'. Use my cock to make you cum."
One more thrust is all you need before you're letting out broken moan into the night as your orgasm crashes over you, waves of pleasure radiating down from your head to your toes as Rick continues to thrust up into you with the sole intent of bringing his orgasm. Noticing how his hips start to falter, you grab his chin and turn it towards you, a different kind of ferocity in your eyes. "I want you to cum. I want you to cum in me, Rick. Make me yours."
"Fuck." Rick's eyes roll back in his head as he spurts his hot cum in you while you rock your hips against his to coax him through his orgasm. After a minute of collective breathing, he gently picks you off his lap and sets you down beside him on his bed as his hand finds yours. "I want to do that again."
"Right now?" You question with a giggle as he brings your had up to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles that sends butterflies to your stomach.
"Well, I'll need a couple of minutes before round two, but I'm talking about permanently. Would you like to go on a date with me?"
Smiling, you roll onto your stomach and rest your chin on his chest. "I think I'd love to. But now," you drag a finger down his chest, twirling a strand of his happy trail between your fingers, sporting a grin that has Rick's cock twitching, "I wanna do that again."
==========
Author's Note: So this is the first full length Rick fic I've posted in a while but I hope you guys enjoy!!!!!!
General Tag List: @marvelousmermaid @himbovillain-anon @babblydrabbly @a-reader-and-a-writer @fairchildflag @infatuatedjanes
Joel Related Tag List: @aestheticallywinchester @loverhymeswith @xoxabs88xox @t-i-n-y-d-i-n-o @witchygagirl @the1redrose @ratcatcher2world @green-socks @weallhaveadestiny @yourjacketisnowdry @rachelh1992 @a-girl-who-loves-disney @knivesareout @bubblegloopswampwitch @waspswidows @burntghoost @katjnordstrom96 @bb-skyrunner @11thstreetvigilante @yespolkadotkitty @heresathreebee @madkovacs @wxr-zxne @wtfobiwan @alieninoklahoma @sociiallydiisoriiented @violetmuses @neon-supernova
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chaotic-mystery · 1 year
Note
okay but what about a jealous dbf!joel with prompts #2: “I’m not sharing you with anybody. You’re mine, and mine only, and I’m going to make you remember that.” and #124: “Look at your reflection. Look at how gorgeous you are. So fucking gorgeous when I’m fucking you like this. So pretty for me, and only for me.”
Do your worst🩶
“Why are you flirtin’ with that prick? No wonder he won’t leave you alone. Jesus Christ, just ignore him” Joel growled at you and swung his bar stool forward, finishing his whiskey and coke. “There’s nothing wrong with free drinks, baby. Besides, if I’m leaving with you, why are you so worked up?” You teased and kissed his cheek before taking a sip of your drink.
His callused hand grabbed your arm and pulled you off the bar stool, walking you to the bathroom. He shoved the door open, and tossed you in front of him against the sink, and closed the door quickly. “Since you seem to forget, little lady, let me tell you somethin’. I’m not fuckin sharin’ you with anybody, you’re mine and mine only. I’ll make you remember that, don’t worry.” He snarled and before you could retort, he was behind you, bending you over the sink and yanking your panties down from under your dress.
“Stay still for me sweetheart, be a good girl for me.” He positioned his hard cock at your soaking entrance, slowly putting the tip inside, teasing you. “Joel, baby please I need you. I need your huge cock inside me.” You whined and wiggled your ass against him as you gripped the sink. Without warning, he shoved the entire thing inside you, growling as he felt you squeeze around his cock. “Yeah, you like that huh baby? That tight little pussy just wrapped around me- fuckkk” he was getting louder and your whines echoed off the dimly lit walls. The sound of his balls smacking against your pussy mixed delightfully with your moans and his grunting. Joel grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking your head up to look at the reflection of you both in the mirror.
“Look at your reflection, baby doll. Look how gorgeous you are bent over this damn sink. So fuckin gorgeous when I’m fuckin you like this, sweetheart” he says through gritted teeth, brushing your hair out of your eyes, regathering it in his hand. He tightens his grip, pulling harder as he pounds deeper into you. Your brows furrow as you moan his name louder and louder with each pump inside you. “So pretty for me, and only for me, bunny.”
Smut prompt list
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babydollmarauders · 6 months
Text
MEDIA MANAGEMENT — JACK HUGHES (23-24 SZN PART 13)
au masterlist
y/ndevils00
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liked by jesperbratt, _quinnhughes, and 316,274 others
y/ndevils00 DOWN WITH THE WILD!!
oh hello, welcome back to y/n’s post-game show! i’m your host, y/n! today i’ll be discussing the New Jersey Devils vs the Minnesota Tame (because they weren’t very “wild” tonight!)
for the first time of the season, the Devils scored first with an opening goal from my sweet “bord och stolar”! (isn’t that cute?! Bratt-man is teaching me swedish nicknames! that one is “angel baby”!)
we didn’t get any more goals in the first, but dig-Doug DID get a penalty for tripping! he was reprimanded thoroughly!
however, we got not one, not two, but THREE goals in second period! giving us a 4-2 lead!! Uncle Tyler the Smiler got our first goal of the period, and less than a minute later, Uncle U-Haula gave us a goal! i love my uncles!! and late into the period, we got ANOTHER goal from my sweet Bratter! I LOVE THIS TEAM SO MUCH!
and no goals for us in the third, but that’s okay because we still won 4-3!!
Lukey assisted TWO goals tonight and was a star of the game for the first time ever!! i couldn’t be prouder of him!! he is NOT proud of me though, because i tripped on the way to the car and knocked him down like a domino… I’M SORRY, SMUSH! PLEASE FORGIVE ME! I’M WEARING HEELS AND YOUR BROTHER WOULDN’T HOLD MY HAND!
p.s. i miss my slut and i need my bestie number 1 to do something so i can be proud of him too
p.p.s. Maraschino Cherry would like me to inform you all that he, too, got an assist tonight and i’m very proud of him… kiss-ass
p.p.p.s. @/vlaroseefleury tell flower that it was nice seeing him again and thanks for not going too hard on us! i did not, however, appreciate him flirting with my boyfriend! please get ahold of your man, Veronique!
tagged jackhughes, john.marino97, dougieham, jesperbratt, tofff73, ehaula, and lhughes_06
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user83 aww why wouldn’t Jack hold your hand?!
y/ndevils00 because he was intimidated by my tallness 😪
jackhughes i was not! i wouldn’t hold your hand because you smacked my ass in front of the whole team and then said “it’s okay, my little red m&m, you’ll get a point next game!”
y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes so you decided to blast THAT on my insta comments rather than let people think you were intimidated by me wearing heels that made me your height???
jackhughes i never win this mind game
_quinnhughes is this a show now? i thought it was a recap post
y/ndevils00 please don’t kill my vibe. i don’t wanna be miserable like you
jackhughes you keep saying you wanna get married, but i don’t think you’re realizing there’s only one kind of hughes: miserable
y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes i’ll be the happy hughes! i’ve met your mom plenty, she’s happy! the MEN are miserable, and that’s the way it always should be!
john.marino97 jumping up and down in front of him and trying to kiss his forehead was not “reprimanding”
y/ndevils00 you worry about your punishments and i’ll worry about mine!
john.marino97 it wasn’t a punishment! he was laughing and eventually had to bend down so you could kiss his forehead cause you almost twisted your ankle! then you told him in a creepily happy voice “don’t do it again, hammy! okay?”
y/ndevils00 you’re just jealous that i love him more than you
john.marino97 i already know that’s untrue because you got drunk the other night and wouldn’t let me go and kept crying and saying you loved me and i was your best friend and that you would give up everything in the galaxy for me if i ever “wanted my teeth back”
y/ndevils00 well if i were you, i would want MY teeth back— i’d be pretty pissed if mine got knocked out
john.marino97 well you’re not a hockey player, so i would hope yours never do get knocked out
user02 DID SHE JUST TAG FLEURY’S WIFE AND DISS HIM?! 😭
user27 it seems like she KNOWS them?! HOW DOES SHE KNOW THEM
vlaroseefleury i’ll let him know! wish i could’ve seen you as well! and i apologize on the flirting, i’m working on that!
y/ndevils00 i appreciate it! miss you!
user15 why was jack watering his LEGS?! 😭
y/ndevils00 he’s trying to grow!
tofff73 did i just get a new nickname?
y/ndevils00 you did! do you like it?
jackhughes if you don’t like it, lie to her
tofff73 i love it!
y/ndevils00 oh yay!!
holtz_10 tablespoons and chairs.
y/ndevils00 excuse me?
holtz_10 you just called Jesper your “sweet table and chairs” . “angel baby” is just “ängel baby”
y/ndevils00 I’VE BEEN BETRAYED! @/jesperbratt HOW COULD YOU?!
jesperbratt Jack made me?
jackhughes @/jesperbratt hey! i didn’t do shit this time! this was all you!
jesperbratt yeah, i’m sorry, i couldn’t resist, it was too funny. i love you!
y/ndevils00 @/jesperbratt i’m telling Nicole!
jackhughes i wasn’t even acknowledged but i earned 3 pictures! i love you, pretty dove!
y/ndevils00 that’s what happens when you’re sleeping with the host! aww i love you too, babygirl!
jackhughes and there it is!
nicohischier how do you miss me? you saw me today
y/ndevils00 am i not allowed to miss you being on the ice? jeez! a girl can’t spread love, i guess!
nicohischier fine, i miss you too?
y/ndevils00 you literally saw me today, why are you so obsessed with me?
dawson1417 next game!
y/ndevils00 next game! for sure!
dawson1417 or the game after!
y/ndevils00 no. NEXT GAME!
dawson1417 oh, okay- copy that 🫡
trevorzegras ya know, i got a goal last night
y/ndevils00 nobody asked
trevorzegras actually, you did, last night. you texted me “DID YOU GET A GOAL YET? I COULDN’T WATCH! I WAS BUSY [MAKING OUT WITH] YOUR BEST FRIEND!”
y/ndevils00 i mean, that wasn’t entirely what i said, but sure, i guess i asked
trevorzegras i couldn’t say a direct quote, it was rated R for raunchy
dougieham that was a horrible reprimanding! VERY scary!
y/ndevils00 mhm! that’s how you know i mean business! i’m glad it worked though!
john.marino97 a kiss on his forehead means you mean business?
y/ndevils00 @/john.marino97 GET OUT OF HERE!
lhughes_06 i’ll forgive you, but next time, just hold MY hand if you have to! you almost broke my nose!
y/ndevils00 okay :( i’m sorry
lhughes_06 @/jackhughes go hold her hand, she’s sad
jackhughes i’m eating?
lhughes_06 @/jackhughes so you can’t multitask? what a boyfriend you are
jackhughes shut up, she’s cuddling LSH, she’ll be okay for 5 more minutes
ehaula i love you too, niece!
y/ndevils00 adopt me?
jackhughes once again, you have parents. AND a cousin who would lay me out if i ever let you get adopted by someone
ehaula yeah, i’m sorry, no adoption! we need your boyfriend!
y/ndevils00 why does no one love me?
jackhughes i love you very much! that’s why i cannot, in good conscience, let you get adopted
y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes that sounds a lot like you DON’T love me
jackhughes please just get off instagram and cuddle with the cat
y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes you can’t make me
lhughes_06 he’s coming to your bedroom, hide the phone!
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cultofdixon · 7 months
Text
It’s the thought that counts
Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Baked goods to win the girl’s heart when yours was already his • SFW
Requested: Anon
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“Yea think she’s gotten used to this place?” Daryl asks his best friend Carol while they were on the porch, her thinking they were watching everybody but of course he was watching a certain somebody.
“Yeah, I think she’s liking it so far. She is more careful than the others who sort of dived into this place”
“Good…that’s good” He crosses his arms leaning against the post next to the stairs as Carol leaned over the railing noticing his attention never leaving. “She livin’ with yea right?”
“Yeah, Y/N didn’t mind staying in Rick’s the first night or two but once I asked if she’d like to stay with me? She jumped at the opportunity” Carol is close to both Daryl and Y/N. Just one of them is more forward about their feelings.
“…she doesn’t want to be with me in the Grimes residence?” He didn’t even think for long about those words when he asked them. All he knew was the instant realization made him quickly avoid Carol’s smirking. “Fuck off”
“Y’know you’re going to be seeing them a lot right? You’re close friends and she’d rather be around you than anybody else”
“Why yea say that when she’s literally over there talking to this…Aiden fucker”
“Because he’s the head runner for the supply runs. Y/N got asked by Deanna to join said group for her job here”
Daryl scoffs bringing his gaze to the ground. “Bet yea that son of a bitch is flirtin’ with her”
“You care too much and see so little. She’s coming over” Carol whispers the last part causing Daryl to straighten up brushing off dirt or whatever was on his person, nothing. “Hey Y/N”
“Hey! Hey Dar” Y/N smiles at the archer watching him return that smile of his. “I’m glad I saw you were out here”
“Oh yeah?” Carol smiles with intentions that Y/N caught on making her role her eyes as Daryl was left clueless. “Why is that?”
“That Aiden guy?” Y/N gestures with her head. “Makes me really uncomfortable…I’m gonna try and get Deanna to let be on the recruiting team”
“Yea wanna help them bring people in?”
“You’d be good at it.” Carol adds to Daryl’s concern with a bit of a bright side. But Y/N respects the honesty. “But be careful with these people yknow? Aaron is part of the recruiters and they are nice but—“
“I know how to take care of myself…it’s honestly just to have a reason to get outside the walls without needing an escort”
The two look at each other confused as Y/N gestured with her head toward the brothers talking to each other.
“They think I can’t handle myself” She laughs in response to both of them scoffing. “Anyway, I’ve gotta go talk to Deanna and hopefully Maggie can help me convince her…I shouldn’t be out long”
Carol nods smiling, thankful, that she keeps her update and more importantly him. Daryl watches Y/N leave the porch as a thought came to mind.
“Is she going to the party?”
“I don’t know. But I am, to get on people’s good side. Why?”
“I don’t know…if she ain’t then I guess…uh I could…uhhh…”
The woman couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her throat making her friend the archer blush out of embarrassment. She gently grabbed his bicep ushering him inside and deciding to help him.
About an hour or two has passed and Y/N entered the home with a bit of an exhausted look to her complexion. A small smile graces her features as she makes her way into the kitchen finding Carol making another casserole, at least with all the ingredients it looks like she was doing that.
“Another casserole?” Y/N smiles bringing herself to the kitchen island finding all the different items on the counter. “Smells good”
“Oh yeah, another one. The one I’m making is for us though…and a few cookie batches to win some people over”
“Who woulda thought you can make all these things with what this community has found over however long this place has been around…” Her smile falters for a second before she shook off that feeling. “I’m gonna see what they have for anything comfortable. I’ll be back in like. An hour…ish”
“Going to take advantage of the shower and hot water?”
“If I could live in it, I would” Y/N laughs on her way out and the second she left the kitchen, Daryl groans getting up off the floor.
“You didn’t have to do that”
“Didn’t want her to see me” Daryl brought the bowl over with half the cookie dough since a batch was already baking. “Don’t want to spoil shit”
“Well, hate to break it to yea but I don’t think she’s going to want burnt cookies” Carol states indicating they both missed the timer going off as Daryl quickly turns around to pull the batch out.
After Y/N got ready for the evening, thankfully finding leggings and a sweater to wear, she brought herself back to the kitchen finding no Carol but Daryl beating himself up about the batch of cookies in front of him. He was tapping one against the counter telling them both how hard it was.
“Messing with one of Carol’s failed batches?” Her voice startled him out of his thoughts as he sets the cookie he was messing with down trying to think of the words.
“Uh. Yeah” He doesn’t want to say it’s his. “She’s gettin’ another tupperware container from Rick’s”
Y/N took a seat at the island reaching over and taking a cookie as Daryl gives her a concerning look. “What?”
“They’re burnt”
“But not all of it. ‘Sides Id always eat my dad’s burnt cookies whenever he tried to make them.” Y/N broke apart the cookie eating the bits that weren’t burnt too bad. “They are really good, props to the chef”
I’m right here and I should just fucking say I made them Daryl couldn’t help the small twitch in the corner of his lips as he watches her take a few more before taking her leave after telling him she’ll skip out on the casserole.
Before she completely disappeared, Daryl quickly rounded the island as his fast pace made Y/N stop giving him a questioning but curious look.
“I-…Sorry. Forgot what I was gonna say”
“That’s okay. Come find me when you do remember, Dar” Y/N smiles warmly, heading back upstairs with the cookies he made as he watches her go.
Felt like perfect timing for Carol to come back watching Daryl stare upstairs smiling a bit to herself when she noticed his emerge.
“Talk to Y/N?”
“Yeah”
“About…asking her out or?”
“No…” His shoulders slumped slightly as he brought himself to look at his friend. “Anyway. Another batch or should we try and get the dessert?”
“You’re lucky I found a cake tin at Rick’s and I’ll take care of it. Gotta make it perfect” Carol smiles heading toward the kitchen once more. “But you can help, and it’s the thought that counts”
“Always”
Daryl found out through Maggie that Y/N was going to go to the party. Taking the opportunity to scout around the entire community to ease her anxiety and Rick’s. So he was going to wait til she returned to the house to present her with the dessert he (well Carol) made.
Cheesecake. It was HARD. Like real fucking hard. But thank god there’s a vegan option that Carol found in one of the old cookbooks in the house.
“Hey Daryl” Aaron’s voice caught the man off guard as he was following Y/N a moment to make sure she was alright and none of Deanna’s sons were being annoying. “How are yea holding up?”
“Fine. Ain’t going to the party?”
“Eric’s house bound so I was never gonna go but least you thought about it.” Aaron smiles at the archer taking his chance. “Wanna have some dinner? It’s spaghetti”
The archer knew it’d be a while before Y/N made her way back so he took the opportunity and it was a good one. He had a reason for himself to enjoy this place a bit.
Y/N turned away from the window when she heard the knock on her door. Half expecting Carol on the other side but she was happily met with Daryl after he had gotten back from dinner and receiving a bike frame. She was going to ask if he himself went to the party but her eyes were drawn to the cheesecake held in his hands.
“Did you make that?” A bit of a spark in her eyes caught all of Daryl’s attention as he nods fighting back a smile when hers emerged. “Wow…how did…how is it even possible without milk?”
“Cashews apparently…or whatever kind of nut that can be made into milk..” Daryl thought back to the mini argument he and Carol had while making the nut milk about said substitute.
“…Cheesecake is my favorite, I’ve only ever told you that.” She smiles taking the plate when it was handed to her as she couldn’t contain her laughter. “I can’t eat all of this tonight”
The two found themselves back in the kitchen as Daryl let Y/N cut herself a slice about to cut him one when he objected. Given he made it for her.
“We can share then” Y/N smiles wrapping up the main cake and tossing it in the fridge before grabbing two forks for the one slice. “You really didn’t have to make this for me…”
“I wanted to” He felt the heat rise in his cheeks as Y/N couldn’t help but match the same blushing expression on herself. “I’ve always wanted to do this…as if like…”
“Asking me out?” Her tone shifted and Daryl first heard it as confusion but then thought it over and remembered hearing the bit of excitement in her voice. “This…is definitely…”
The small pause caught his whole undivided attention as his eyes looked at her waiting for more watching her take a bite of the cake and absolutely enjoying it.
“One of the greatest things to happen to me” Y/N smiles enjoying the cake sliding it over for him to get a taste of his work. Thought the way he took a bite and enjoyed it more than what a typical baker would with their own work. She knew he didn’t make it, she knew the thing he made were the burnt cookies that she did enjoy.
“Uhm. So…Do you—-“
“I’d love to, Dixon” Y/N continues to smile bringing herself around the island and gaining a bit of courage to press a kiss to his cheek. The smallest affection and impact making him lean into it and chase for another that she would happily give. “It took you long enough…and can I just say something?”
“‘Course” Daryl gave her the smallest smile as Y/N pulled herself close bringing her lips to his ear.
“I think I like the cookies you made more” She whispers with a smile, giving him one more kiss on the cheek which permanently left the blush on his cheeks before pulling away and taking the plate.
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rosecoloreddesire · 7 months
Text
Not A Lie ~ Elvis Presley
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Summary: You could never imagine THE Elvis Presley to show up in your little diner. How can you tell your parents that…he’s your fiancé??
Note: IM BACK! I’m going to be graduating in February so I’m hoping I can get some writing out! I’m so sorry if this is a bad come back? I haven’t proofread yet! But I think it’s good 💙 missed you all so much!
Warnings: FLUFF!
“Y/N, you gotta stop lyin’! You know how much your daddy loves Elvis!” You huff out as you chase your mom around the kitchen island.
“Mama! Just listen to me! I’m being honest! I am enga-“ she put a finger to your lips as you both hear the front door unlock, opening to your daddy whistling a soft tune of Blue Suede Shoes.
“Not a word in front of him, got it?” You sigh loudly not wanting her to put you down.
“But mama! He’s comin’ ton-“ she cuts you off with an ice cold glare. You finally let it go, walking past your father to your room.
“God damn it all! Why won’t anyone ever listen to me?” The small phone in your room begins to ring, picking it up you sit on your bed. A certain southern drawl cheers you up.
“Hey there, lil’ lady. How’s my girl doin’? I’ll be there soon I promise. My parents are wantin’ us to get together and do some photos here at Graceland for the family album.” He chuckles while you heard his grandma in the back.
“Hi grandma! Um, pictures? Like engagement pictures?” You nervously hum, twirling the phone cord around your finger.
“Well, I did get you that pretty rock on your finger. And I think that means your stuck with lil’ old me, baby.” Your cheeks flush as he lowly whispers.
“I’ll see you soon. Lest your flirtin’ make my face flush!” His giggles are cut off as you hang up. Your face aglow. Your phone rings once again.
“Elvis Presley- if you don’t stop-“
“Elvis Presley?! I knew it!” Your best friend Amelia was on the other line….her screams of joy influence you to push the phone as far away from you as possible. You wince as she continues.
“Amelia Jones! You needa keep it down! What’ll you do if your mama says she won’t be gettin’ you into my mama’s salon this Thursday!” The other line dies down.
“You know your mamas the only one you can actually do my hair and make it look good!” You chuckle as she tries to explain herself.
“Yes! That’s why when I tell you the boy I’ve been datin’ all year and last year is Mr. Elvis Presley.” You state confidently as she squees softly.
“That’s why you wasn’t impressed when we saw him for the first time! You were kissin’ him!!!” Her giggles and squeals made you roll your eyes. Amelia was always into the whole romance and love at first sight tropes in the movies.
“Y/N! Get down here! Your mother and I need to have a talk with you!” You grumble and hope your mom hadn’t told your father about the whole engagement.
“Gotta go, Ames! Bye!” You hung up, smooth your skirt and make your way down the stairs.
“You know the policy we have on lyin’, young lady.” Your daddy was sitting on the couch with your mother.
“Daddy, I ain’t lyin’ to you! I really am-“ your mothers laugh breaks you off again.
“We are supposed to believe that Elvis Presley is coming tonight to meet us after askin for your hand?” She fans herself. Your mom usually was so supportive but you do have to hand it to her. This was kinda crazy.
“I ain’t! He’s really sweet! His mama and daddy are arranging a photo shoot for us to be in the Presley family album! I’m gonna be a Presley, daddy!”
“I wanna believe you but how did you even meet?”
“And will that be all for you today?” The man in front of you was clearly flirting as you wrote off his receipt.
“Uh actually this is gonna sound weird but are you an angel?” You rolled your eyes, waving your hand.
“Hm, I’ve actually never heard of that one but I am very aware thank you. Bye!” You spun around on your heel and grabbed a new pad and paper. You fixed your hair in the reflection of napkin holder.
“You handled that well, Darlin’.” You jump a little. The voice was low and oddly familiar. You turned with a flush to your cheeks.
“ yeah well creeps like that don’t like the word no so-“ you paused as you finally saw the person speaking to you.
“It’s a shame cause he ain’t wrong. But he forgot to say you look like a goddess.”
“You’re-“ you stuttered holding your hand to your chest.
“Your future boyfriend I hope.” You must have looked like a tomato with how warm your cheeks were getting.
“Uh- are you serious? Is this a prank?.”
“Here’s my number. Use it wisely.” And with a wink he was gone as fast as he came.
——
“I’m supposed to believe he came to our family restaurant when your mama and I were gone?” You nod desperately. You take your mothers hand and show her your ring.
“Oh my god, Y/N. That’s a real ring! How did you-“ your doorbell is going off before you can explain.
“Do you want to get that, daddy?” You ask softly, praying to whatever god that Elvis was standing at the door. He huffs as he sits up, making his way to the door.
“Afternoon- OH MY GOD. You-“ Your father brings your fiancé into a bear hug. Your father squeezes the poor boy as you giggle. Your skin flushing at the display.
“It’s really Elvis! What in the hell?” Your mom grasps your hands tightly as the boy walks into the house, more like pulled. You giggle as he finally sees you, a bit frazzled. He detaches himself from your father as he makes his way to you. His lips soft against your cheek as your body warms.
“Uh, mom, dad, this is my fiancé.” You spout awkwardly as Elvis slips his arm around you. Your father gleams with excitement.
“I understand why you didn’t ask for my blessin’, son! You can marry my daughter!” You’ve never seen your father so ecstatic in your life. Except the one time he won a ticket to see Elvis. Or the one time he heard Heart Break Hotel on the radio in his car. Huh….you are sensing a running theme…
“I really do love your daughter. It’s jus’ been rough tryin’ to get a time together to meet y’all.” He smiles boyishly at your parents. Your mom still reeling in the fact that you were telling the truth.
“D-did ya enjoy our family diner?” Your mom stutters out. You stifle laugh placing your hand over your mouth. You look at Elvis awaiting his answer.
“Of course, ma’am! Great atmosphere, great food, and even greater waitresses.” He bumps you with his shoulder as you blush.
“Well, don’t be a stranger, Mister Presley! Come on, we were just gettin’ ready for our meal!” Your father pushes Elvis to a chair at the table. You shakily sit next to him as your nerves still haven’t fully settled.
“Why our daughter?” Your breath hitches as your mom starts to plate the food.
“Lord, where do I start? She looks as if she walked right out of a Hollywood movie. An absolute starlet.” Your skin flushes as his hand drifts to your thigh.
“I wish! We met up with some of his Hollywood buddies and they were super sweet! They think Elvis has a real shot of hittin’ it big!” You smile as he laughs. His gaze focuses on you the whole time. How could he have found the most amazing thing to have come out of him having to hide from fans in a local diner? His eyes never leave your lips as you continue to sing his praises.
“I really think it’s a great idea to see you two married! Can you believe it, honey? We’d be related to the Presley’s!” Your dad claps as he excitedly dug into his food. Your mother still seems a little hesitant.
“What’s gonna stop you from chasin’ other girls around town? My daughter hasn’t even dated before you!” Your eyes widen as you take a bite of your dinner. You hadn’t really had that conversation with Elvis yet…
“I’m your first boyfriend?” You wince at his surprised tone. You turned to face him.
“Uh, yeah. I, uh, never really thought about the whole dating thing. Until you kissed me at that charity concert…I-“ his lips are soft against your cheek. Your hand shaking in his hand.
“You don’t need to explain nothin’, darlin’. Thank you so much for the lovely dinner but I best be goin’ soon I only had a it of time to spare.” He began to get up as your father rose from his seat.
“How about you go with him, sweetheart? Your mom and I are gonna have a talk about all this.” You nod, hugging him quickly. You all but ran up the stairs to get away from the tension.
“How cute. Pink really fits you.” Elvis smirks as his fingers traced your bed sheets. You scoff as you pack a small bag.
“I haven’t gotten to change my sheets since I was like 10, E. Give me a break. Do you really want to do this?” Elvis’ hand caresses your face, pushing a few stray hairs out of your face.
“I want you. Every day. Afternoon. And night. You are all I think about.” His voice just a bit above a whisper. Your eyes were heavy as you stare at his lips.
“Can I be yours forever?” His lips were soft as he pulls you close. The kiss was delicate but passionate as he grips your hair slightly.
“If you’ll let me.”
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punkshort · 8 months
Text
Chapter warnings: language, mild reference to self harm and SA, alcohol
Chapter Eighteen - extra scene
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"Thought you weren't drinkin' tonight?" he said to you.
“I changed my mind,” you said and gave him a wink before following Maria and finding two empty stools up against the bar.
Joel ticked his jaw to the side as he watched you leave, finding it difficult to tear his eyes from you. He told himself he was being protective, but he knew deep down there was another reason. A more selfish reason. He watched as you lifted a glass filled with clear liquid to your lips and the wince that followed. It wasn't even sexual, but his body was reacting anyway. He swallowed roughly, trying to control his thoughts while his brother was sitting less than a foot away. Must be the whiskey.
“You got it bad, huh?” Tommy said. Joel expected his tone to be teasing but it was more sympathetic and understanding. He finally pulled his gaze from you to look at his brother, trying to decide how much to confide in him.
“Shit,” Joel said, taking a swig of whiskey. “She’s got me wrapped around her finger.”
Tommy laughed and clapped Joel on the back.
“Yeah, well, it’s about time. Told ya a year ago. I could see it all over your face, even back then.”
Joel winced as he remembered the fight you had, swirling the liquid around in his glass with his wrist.
“I almost fucked it up, Tommy. Thought I did fuck it up, actually,” he took another sip as Tommy leaned back in his chair. “I ran into her the night before my birthday. At a bar. We had both been drinkin’ and I guess it all just boiled over. Had me makin’ out with her outside the bar like I was a goddamn teenager.” Joel laughed softly at the memory, then looked back at you marveling at the string lights hanging above the bar.
“So, what happened?” Tommy pressed, tapping his fingers lightly on the table. Joel sighed.
“Asked her to come home with me, she said no, said she had been drinkin’ too much, which was a good call, and I knew it. But the next day I had this grand plan to get her alone and ask her out properly. Dinner, drinks, whatever she wanted to do,” Joel sighed again and rubbed his face in his hands.
“Right before she was comin’ up to my office, I saw her with some guy in the copy room. Looked like she was flirtin’ with him. Found out later the guy was gay and they were just messin’ around but I fuckin’ yelled at her. I had no right, and I made her cry. Called her a whore,” Joel downed the rest of his whiskey at the memory and Tommy signaled to Seth to bring over two more.
“Jesus, Joel. A whore? That’s harsh,” Tommy said in disbelief.
“I fuckin’ know that,” Joel seethed and his fist clenched. “It was just… the fuckin’ copy room.”
Tommy’s eyes widened in realization, then nodded.
“Right. Shit.”
“Anyway,” Joel continued, nodding his thanks to Seth for the drink and wrapping his hand around the glass. “That’s why she quit. That’s why I was runnin’ down the street after her when shit hit the fan. It was tense for a while, we never talked about it, til we did. Cleared the air and all that.” He took a sip and smiled against the glass as he remembered that night in the house when you finally hashed it all out and admitted your feelings for each other. “Ended up workin’ out, somehow. Don’t know what she sees in me but I ain’t complainin’.”
“Well, brother, you hold onto her for as long as she lets you. I could tell right away. Never saw you this happy in my life, even with Amy.”
Joel cringed at the name, and Tommy laughed.
“Oh, c'mon, it’s been years and I can’t even say her name?”
“There’s more,” Joel groaned, and took a healthy sip from his glass. “Turns out, Amy is alive and well in Kansas City. Found that out the very fuckin’ hard way while back.” Tommy’s jaw dropped.
“You’re fuckin’ kidding me,” he said.
“She’s runnin’ some fucked up community out there, whorin’ out the women to all the men like ration cards. Fuckin’… animals.” Joel squeezed his eyes shut as he rubbed his chest, breathing deep to keep the panic at bay.
Tommy grew silent as he started to connect the dots.
“And you brought her there.” Tommy said it as more of a statement rather than a question, and Joel gave him a tight nod.
“I didn’t know,” he choked out, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to hide the emotion in his face. “This one fucker, he cornered her in a closet, and- and I wasn’t there, I wasn’t there to protect her,” he jabbed his finger aggressively on the table as he stared at Tommy. “I fucked up again, Tommy. I thought she was gonna –“ Joel stopped himself from finishing his sentence, leaning back in the chair and raking his hand through his hair. “I thought I was gonna lose her.”
Tommy exhaled harshly and shook his head, absorbing the heaviness of the conversation and trying to find the right words to soothe his brother.
“But she didn’t, Joel. She’s here, and look at her,” Tommy pointed over to you and Maria at the bar and Joel looked up. Maria must have seen Tommy’s gesture because she caught his eye and you turned around. You looked at him with warmth and a small smile before turning back to Maria.
“She’s fine, Joel. She lived, and she’s happy, isn’t she?” Joel scoffed at the word fine.
“Yeah, took a long time, but she’s comin’ around. I can see the spark in her eyes again, she’s laughin’ and smilin’ all the time, especially since she got here. And Tommy,” Joel reached out a hand to place on his shoulder, blaming the alcohol for making him so uncharacteristically emotional in front of his brother. “I’ll never be able to thank you enough for giving her this place.”
Tommy smiled and waved Joel’s hand off his shoulder.
“I didn’t make this place, she did,” he nodded in Maria’s direction, who was engrossed in conversation with you at the bar.
“Yeah, I suppose that's true,” Joel leaned back and took a sip of his drink, deciding it was time to pay Tommy back for all his teasing. “Seems as though you might be wrapped around her finger as well?” Joel raised an eyebrow at Tommy and he smirked.
“We kissed a few times, usually when we were drinkin’ but nothin’ more,” Tommy admitted, focusing on the liquid in his glass.
“Where’s the heartbreaker that used to tear through our office, chasin’ every skirt he saw?” Joel grinned as Tommy shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Joel froze briefly when he saw out of the corner of his eye Maria gently lay her hand on top of yours, and he tensed, waiting for you to panic, but he was amazed to see you interlock your fingers with her own.
“I think those days are behind me, brother. She’s the only one I’ve got eyes for. Been that way for too long now,” Tommy admitted, a bit of sadness to his voice that brought Joel’s focus back to his brother.
“What’s the problem, then?” Joel pushed, nudging his knee against Tommy’s under the table.
“Ah, you know. I get a million excuses. Too busy, wants to keep it casual, all that. But for the first time, I don’t want somethin’ casual. I want somethin’ more, you know?”
Joel wanted to tease his brother some more, but he felt for him at that moment, relating all too well to his dilemma.
“Give it some time, she’ll come around. Hell, we got nothin’ but time now,” Joel chuckled, then tried to change the subject. “So anyway, tell me how the hell you ended up in Wyoming when you were supposed to be in California.”
Tommy began to regale Joel with his story about ending up in a QZ and meeting Seth and Maria when he saw you both heading towards his table, your arm slung through hers.
"I'm gonna head back," you told him, your arm still linked with Maria's. "I'm tired."
"Alright, I'll come with you," he said, flattening his palms against the table to stand, but you held your hand out.
"Why don't you stay with Tommy and catch up? Maria can walk me home," you turned to her with a smile that she returned.
He gave you a knowing look and cleared his throat.
"You sure?" he asked, clearly uneasy about you leaving his sight. You nodded.
"One hundred percent. Stay," you told him firmly, and he sat back down in his chair. "Spend time with your brother." Tommy shot you a grateful smile, but you missed it, trying to assure Joel through your gaze. "It's okay," you added softly, and he slowly nodded.
"I won't be long," he promised, and you waved him off.
"Take as much time as you want, I'm just going to fall asleep the minute I get back."
"Alright, then," Joel said, and you tossed him a wave as Maria pulled you towards the door and down the street.
Tommy chuckled as he downed the rest of his whiskey.
“Fall asleep the minute she gets back… doesn’t sound like you’re getting lucky tonight, brother.”
Tommy grabbed the empty glasses to bring to the bar, waving Seth down for another round as Joel groaned, rubbing his face in the palms of his hands.
Chapter Nineteen
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