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rin-may-1103 · 7 months ago

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The Wrong Robin Au (part three)

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Danny never said he knew what he was doing, but he thinks he's doing something right if the kid hasn't started crying yet. so you know, that's great. now, he just needed to get the kid out of here, so Danny could have a moment to mourn his retirement plans.

He wasn't going to blame the kid, ancients know Danny would have gone back to hero work eventually. He just couldn't let things go if he could help it, and he could in this situation.

"Alright, here's the plan." Danny announced, slapping his legs as he stood up. "it's late, you're a kid who needs sleep. let's get you home, then we can get a game plan on how to do this."

Tim had been nodding his head, even if it was reluctantly, before freezing in sudden realization. Danny raised his eyebrow in question, wondering what was wrong now.

"you want my help?" Tim asked, absolutely gobsmacked.

Oh, the kid thought Danny was just going to send him away like any reasonable adult would. Ha, Danny wished. but no. He had no clue what he was doing and this kid was his only trump card for making any of the half-assed plans still forming in his head work. AND he had a feeling if he didn't keep Tim close by, the kid would run off and do something stupid.

"Yep," Danny snorted, "you were smart enough to figure out who Batman was, and then you decided to take it upon yourself to help him; whether by convincing me to do it or yourself."

"Now then," Danny said as he walked over to the couch and pulled his hoodie from under Sam. Sam, to her credit, told him to fuck off and went back to snoring. Tucker, somehow having heard her, responded with a 'Go fuck yourself'.

Shaking his head, Danny turned back to Tim. "Let's get going. It's-" Danny turned to look at the clock, his eyes narrowing when he found it; 4 am. The kid was up and coherent enough to try and blackmail someone into being Robin at four in the morning. "-four. you seriously need to get some sleep kid. It's a school night." actually, what day was it???

Tim rolled his eyes but started to follow Danny out the door. "It's Saturday, and I've stayed up longer," he grumbled.

Danny snorted, "So have I, but we still need to sleep." He should probably try and prevent the kid from staying up longer than he should. Danny knows what years of not sleeping properly does to someone. The kid's obsessed with Batman and Robin, right? He'll just use them then.

"Robin needs all the sleep he can get. Otherwise, Batman will bench him. If Robin is benched, then who is out there helping Batman?" That's convincing, right? Does Batman even have the power to bench Robin? From the sounds of it, Robin is his kid's vigilante name. Which means he totally has the power to ground them.

Wait...

If Danny was going to be Robin, does that mean Batman would think he's his kid?

Oh, hell naw. He was not going to be adopted by another fruitloop! If Bruce Wayne even thinks about it, Danny will be out of there so fast even the Flash couldn't stop him.

Tim stumbled, his eyes wide in surprise. "Really?" he asks, turning to look at Danny in horror. Danny blinked, brain failing to remember why the kid would be surprised.

shit, what were they talking about?? Robin... It's four am... Right!

"Yep," Danny chirped, leading the kid to his car. "Now, I know everyone says not to get into a stranger's car and all that jazz, but it's the only way I'm getting you home. So, hop in."

Tim didn't even hesitate to jump into the passenger seat, pulling the seat belt across his chest. Danny stared at him for a second, before opening the car door and sitting down.

"kid, you do know you're not supposed to get into strangers' cars, right?" Danny asked, closing the door and buckling up. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his keys and started the engine.

"Well, yeah?" Tim replied, turning to face him, "But you're not a stranger. You're Robin. You protect people not hurt them."

and well? Danny can't argue with that, now, can he?

"Right, fine. Just promise not to get into strangers' cars. I don't care how much you think you know about them. It's not safe, and you could get hurt."

Tim hummed, thinking about it for a moment before nodding his head. "Yeah, alright. I promise."

"good." Danny sighed, turning to look at the road to see if it was clear. then he sighed again, "Don't tell strangers where you live, please."

Tim looked at him in amusement, a small smile spreading across his face. "Drake manor. 1015 Mountain Drive. It's in the Crest Hill community."

"You're killing me here, kid." Danny groaned, hitting his head against the steering wheel. Then he slowly lifted his head and turned to stare at Tim, "Kid. How the hell did you get all the way over here? Mountain Drive is all the way over in Bristol??? That's, like, twelve miles outside of city limits?"

"I have my ways."

Danny narrowed his eyes, "You bribed someone, didn't you."

Tim looked away from him, fiddling with his fingers.

sighing, Danny sat up and started driving down the road. They sat in silence for a while, just listening to the chaos that was Gotham City as they drove. Tim eventually slumped over, his head resting against the window.

It took a good thirty minutes before Danny could turn onto the bridge out of town. The traffic wasn't heavy, just the occasional car here and there. It was almost peaceful.

"Turn here," Tim suddenly instructed, startling Danny.

"Tim!" Danny cried, turning to look at the kid, then back at the road. although, he did do as the kid instructed. "don't do that! you'll give me a heart attack or something! Ancients!"

Tim blinked, then shrugged. "ok," he yawned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"my house is the one with really stupid-looking ducks carved into the gates." Tim supplied, waving his hand at the road ahead of them. "Bruce's is the one with bats, but you knew that."

"Right," Danny agreed. What were the chances that Batman happened to live in a place called Gotham and in a house with black iron gates covered in bats? It was almost as coincidental as Danny's last name sounding like Phantom. Fate really had quite the sense of humor, didn't they?

after they passed a few more dirt roads, Tim pointed at a specific one, "Turn here. The gates a little further back than everyone else's."

Danny hummed, turning the car onto the road. What was his life at this point? Driving children to their huge houses at four-thirty in the morning? agreeing to become Robin? coming out of retirement because a kid asked him to?

Bruce Wayne better appreciate all the effort this kid was going through...

A tall gate slowly popped into view, making Danny slow the car down until he could stop right in front of it. "Alright, kid. You're home. get some sleep. Go to school, I don't know, what do you rich kids do on the weekends? actually, you know what? It doesn't matter, do you have a phone?"

Tim blinked as he slowly unbuckled, "yes?"

"One that's not monitored by your parents or anyone else?"

"..."

Danny sighed, reaching into his back pocket to pull out his phone. "Here," Danny unlocked it, went to settings and pressed the factory rest option. Once the phone finished the reset, he quickly scanned through it to make sure it was all gone before adding his second phone number. once done, he tossed it over to the kid. "here, should work for now. Don't let anyone else have it."

If this was any other situation, Danny would have gone straight to the kid's parents; but considering it was past four in the morning and there wasn't a city-wide amber alert? He has a feeling the kid needs a safety net, and well? What better than a direct line to him?

"I can't just take your phone!" Tim cried, catching the phone before it could fall to the ground.

"It's my backup one. I tend to break my phone pretty often, so I always keep an extra one on me. my current number is saved on it, you can reach out and get in contact with me now." Danny waved off the kid's concern, reaching into the back of the car to grab a bag.

with how often his phone had broken during ghost fights and how frequently his parents dissected his phone for parts? It's a habit at this point to have a backup. or Ten. Pulling the bag to the front, Danny showed the kid what was inside.

"..." Tim blinked, then looked up at Danny. "why do you have a bag of broken phones in your car?"

"Because my phones keep breaking and I figured it would be easier to just keep them for extra parts than toss them. Now," Danny tossed the bag into the back, ignoring how it tipped over and spilled the contents all over the seat. He'd clean it up later. Maybe. "It's early. You need sleep, I need sleep. We can pick another day to sit down and build a game plan."

Tim sat in silence for a moment, staring at the phone in his hands, before glancing up at Danny. "You really mean it?" he asked, turning the phone around anxiously, "you really want my help?"

"kid, Tim," Danny started, tilting his head so he could make eye contact. "with how bad you say Batman's gotten? I'm going to need all the help I can get. Who better than the one who went out of his way to try and actually do something about it?"

Tim's eyes watered as he looked back at the phone. "ok," he whispered, nodding his head. Reaching up, he wiped his face clean before taking a deep breath and letting it out.

"ok," he repeated, voice stronger now. "I'll help. I want to."

"Good," Danny nodded in agreement, then smiled. "get some sleep kid, you need it."

"I don't need it," Tim grumbled, turning to open the door and get out. "but if that's what it takes for you to allow me to help, then I guess I can take a nap or something."

Danny snorted, watching as Tim closed the car door and started making his way to the gate.

as soon as the kid was out of view, Danny slammed his head onto the steering wheel and groaned. He had definitely jinxed himself earlier. How hard can being Robin be? Yeah right. He hasn't even gotten to meet Bruce yet and he's already stressed.

...

Glancing up, Danny watched as the clock glitched then turned to five am.

...

Well then, he might as well do something productive since it was unlikely he'd be getting any more sleep if he went back. Sam would be up by the time he got there, which meant he'd have to answer all of her questions... which would wake Tucker up, which would mean Danny'd have to explain all over again.

Glancing around, Danny suddenly realized something.

Batman.

Bruce Wayne was Batman.

Bruce Wayne; as in, Gotham's own himbo billionaire.

Who lives in Bristol.

Which is where he is right now. Logically speaking, he'd be able to find it pretty fast if he just looked at the gates. It's probably just a few houses from Tim's too, now that he thought about it...

Oh, this was a terrible idea, but when had that ever stopped Danny?

Jazz was so going to kill him for this.

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little-annie · 5 months ago

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How they got stuck sharing the only remaining bed in the Hopper-Byers family home when they came to visit, they'll never know. (It involved some meddling on both Robin's and Dustin's behalf….. and Joyce and Hopper and Jonathan and El and Will, and literally everyone else who thinks they just need to figure their shit out and get together already.)

But they did.

And Christ if they weren't pissy about it.

They were roommates for God's sake, they saw enough of each other as is. But noooo, they had to get stuck bunking with each other for the weekend too.

They'd began bickering almost immediately when they'd entered the room and saw the state of their situation.

“Fuck you.”

“No, no. Fuck you Harrington. I'm older-’

“By like a year -”

“I'm older and my poor boy bones are brittle. I get the bed.”

“Poor boy bones.” Steve huffs to himself, taking one quick glance at Eddie and beginning to strip, hoping that if he gets into bed first they won't have to continue this argument.

Eddie catches on almost immediately, undoing his stupid handcuff belt buckle with little struggle and kicking himself out of his jeans so fast he nearly eats the edge of the dresser to his right. “You're young.” Eddie states while trying to catch his breath, “The floor will do you just fine.”

They're both down to their underwear in a matter of seconds. Belts clanking, denim dropping and fabric flying. Eddie in his boxers, Steve in his white briefs that he's sure he hears Eddie snicker at even in his apparent displeasure.

Soon enough they're both trying to climb into bed, pushing and shoving, throwing elbows when the other one kicks out a bony knee. Both scrambling to get under the covers and claim their right to the bed.

Pulling the lone pillow swiftly beneath his head, Eddie grumbles. “What are you doing?”

“Getting into bed.”

“It's a twin Harrington.”

“Yeah and my hips hurt.” Steve answers, driving an elbow with regrettable strength into Eddie's ribs as he continues to try to gain some purchase on the narrow bed. “I'm not sleeping on the floor.” He wiggles around some more, at the moment hoping Eddie might just fall off onto the floor. “Shove over.”

Maybe they can manage to share.

“It's a twin!” Squawks Eddie while bracing himself against the nightstand, pushing Steve back with cold feet to his shins.

“And give me some of the blankets.”

“There's only one pillow!”

“So share.”

Both huffing, wriggling around, pushing and shoving, pulling at the single blanket and the only pillow, they try to get comfy on their backs. Which won't happen because they can't fucking fit that way. The goddamn bed is too narrow and Eddie's bony ass everything is digging into Steve's side as he hangs with half of his ass off of the bed.

“Lay on your side.” Eddie grumbles with a shove.

“What? Why?”

“Because we don't fit like this, Princess. Roll onto your side.”

Ignoring how that nickname makes his cheeks flare in the moonlit room, Steve starts to roll over, leaning to his left and moving to put Eddie at his back. Maybe that way he'll actually get some peace and qui-

“Not like that!” Eddie all but screeches, shoving at Steve's back so hard he nearly falls off, "You want my dick pressed to your ass all night?”

Truthfully that doesn't sound as awful as Eddie's making it out to be. The prick. Steve thinks he has a rather nice ass and Eddie would only be so lucky.

“Well you want your dick pressed against my dick all night? That's the only other option, Munson.”

Eddie clenches his jaw, sighs dramatically and mutters something to himself that Steve's not quite able to catch, before he actually speaks, “Fine. Fine! Just roll over so you're facing me, but just keep your hips back.”

‘Keep your hips back,’ as if Steve would just roll over dick first and press himself right up against Eddie.

Steve tries and fails to muffle his irritated groan as he rolls over to where he's facing Eddie on the same flat pillow.

God they're close.

Noses nearly touching.

In his moment of bitterness and just pure irritation at the situation, Steve had forgotten how pretty Eddie was.

His eyes are so dark in the moonlight.

The rest of him blanketed in a hazy midnight blue, his freckles akin to a star speckled sky.

Steve could never get tired of this view.

“Better?” Steve whispers, trying and failing to ignore the flutter of butterflies in his stomach.

Eddie's eyes search his for what feels like aeons before he answers. “Fuck you.” There's no real heat to his words, tone more so matching Steve's as he smiles with a lopsided smirk.

Steve rolls his eyes, teasing, if only to see Eddie sputter, “Mmmm, I'll take a rain check on that.” He delights in Eddie's choked off gasp before he continues, “But I will warn you, I'm a cuddler.”

“Course you are.” Eddie grumbles, crossing his arms in front of his chest and closing his eyes with a flutter of his long dark lashes.

After a moment of quiet Steve takes a chance and presses his foot to Eddie's, soft beneath his sole, and so fucking cold.

Eddie doesn't pull away.

“G’ night.” He whispers instead, pressing his foot just a touch closer, the breath of his words falling against Steve's lips.

“Good night.”

—

The next morning they wake in a tangled mess.

It's hot and sweaty and they're physically stuck together at all points where naked skin meets.

Which is pretty much everywhere.

Eddie's one hand is in Steve's hair as if throughout the night he felt the need to play with it, and his other is so tightly grasped to Steve's bare waist it almost hurts.

His nose is otherwise buried in Steve's neck where he can hear Eddie's faint snores and is sure there's the wetness of drool lying along his clavicle.

It's all a little disgusting.

But also kind of wonderful.

His one arm is numb where it lies beneath Eddie's head.

Steve shuffles enough to separate at least some of their sweat damp skin, noticing in the same instant how where Eddie's plastered against his hip, he's also obviously hard.

So much so that when Steve looks down there's a damp spot in his underwear.

Oh.

Maybe he'll take that rain check sooner rather than later.

Eddie groans in his sleep, hot air breathed against Steve's neck as he rolls his hips and this time lets a soft moan escape.

Yep, definitely taking that rain check now.

Maybe they'll figure their shit out sooner than everyone had anticipated.

“Get off of me, I wanna suck your-”

😉 The End

#eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #steddie #steddie fandom #steddie fic #steddie fanfiction #steddie ficlet #steddie fanfic #steddie fan fic #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fan fiction #stranger things fandom

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kjupchurch-xx · 5 months ago

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🩷 Conflicting Feelings 🩷 Part 3

Hugh and I ended up getting take-out for lunch. We spent the last 24 hours together. Things were nice. Things were right. The last 24 hours had been spent working out kinks of what was to come next. It was spent with hours of being in each other's arms and many passionate kisses. He'd been my person for years. These things had only ever taken place in my dreams, I never imagined them becoming a reality. I'd always wondered what his kisses were like. The thoughts made me smile as a red blush appeared on my cheeks.

He came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and looking at me through the full length mirror while resting his head on my shoulder. "What's got you turning red?" He asked, smirking at me through the mirror.

Our height difference was pretty silly considering I'm 5'0 and he towers me at 6'2, so imagine him bending down to actually rest his chin on my shoulder. I tilted my head looking at him through the mirror, "Nothing." I said pursing my lips together.

He chuckled, "Are you sure, love?" He asked sweetly.

I quickly nodded, "I'm sure." before turning to look at him, staring for a moment, "What?" He asked laughing. I shook my head, "Nothing. I just can't believe this is even happening right now." I said honestly.

He smiled, "Well it is. And if you'll have me, I'm all yours." His gaze went down to my lips for a moment before meeting my eyes once again.

Flashback to September 5th, 2021:

I was back home in South Carolina visiting family. I'd just finished playing an extra in a movie when my phone started ringing. It was Hugh, who was in England filming for his new movie The Son. Figuring he was just calling to ask about my filming experience, I answered.

I could hear sniffling, "Hey, how was filming?" I asked, trying to hide the concern in my voice.

He sighed, sniffling a bit more as he belted out, "My father died." the tremble in his voice killed me.

I sighed, "Oh shit. I'm so sorry, babe. Is Deb on her way?" I asked, hoping she'd canceled whatever she had going on since he was in England alone.

That simple question broke him, "I fucking rang her and she just said 'I'm so sorry babe, I'll see you when you get home. I can't leave the dogs.' Who the fuck says that?!" His voice dripping with hurt as he continued breaking.

I closed my eyes, feeling my teeth start to grit, "Are you serious?"

He sniffled, choking on his tears, "I just lost my fucking father. I'm in another country filming a movie I can't even focus on at this moment and that's all I get from her."

I quickly put the phone and speaker and sent Deb a text.

Me: Hey, I saw the news. If you guys need someone to keep the pups while you go to Australia, I don't mind keeping them. I miss Dali and Allegra!

She text me back almost immediately after I hit send.

Debbora-Lee: Thank you, honey. I appreciate it but I'm not going to be able to go. Ava has school stuff we can't miss unfortunately.

I sighed, "I'm so sorry, babe. You're in England, right?" I asked knowingly as I began searching for flights on my phone. Someone has to be there and I guess if she refuses to be there, I'll have to go to make sure he can make it through his film and to make sure he's okay.

He coughed again, "Yes, I'm in fucking London."

I bit my bottom lip as I booked the first flight I saw, "Meet me at the airport at 11 pm your time."

He sniffled, surprised, "Where are you? What do you mean?" He asked, confused.

I sighed, "I'll be landing in London at 11." I said while grabbing my things, throwing them in my bag to haul ass to the airport.

"No love, you don't have to do that. Don't mess up your time with your family." He said softly.

"It's already paid for. Just pick me up at 11." I said as I ended the call.

I'm pissed. I'm pissed she can't get off her ass to fly to be with her husband who just lost his father. I'm pissed my time with my family got ruined because of this fucked up situation, but he's my best friend and he obviously needs someone on his side. He called Deb, then called me. I'm pissed that I can't show this man what he means to me because of a marriage he's in with such a selfish person. But I'll go be the hero and save his ass because she refuses to. Time to put my platonic face on.

11 PM, London, England:

After a 10 hour flight, a comfortable bed is all I'm after. I booked a room at the same hotel Hugh was staying to be close by. I hadn't seen him in months. I was excited, despite the circumstance of why I came in the first place. I stepped off the escalator, the airport was practically dead at this time. Maybe 20 other people and I'm sure they all just got off the flight I was on. I quickly found the baggage claim, grabbing my things and checking my phone.

"You really didn't have to do this." I heard a familiar voice, my favorite Australian say as he approached me, pulling me into a quick hug.

He looked awful. His eyes were swollen from crying, his hair was a mess. He was almost unrecognizable.

I shrugged, "You didn't have anybody else. That's what I'm here for." I smiled. "Take me to the hotel. I'm tired and ready to be away from airports and planes." I said, walking towards the doors.

He gave me a sad smile, "Isn't this your first time out of the country?" He asked, looking at me, walking with me towards his car.

I nodded, "It is. Finally putting the passport I've had for a year now to good use." I laughed.

As we approached his car, he opened the door for me and grabbed my bags, placing them in the back, then coming to get in the driver's seat. "I'm so thankful to have someone like you in my life. Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me." He said, his voice slightly shaking.

I took a deep breath, trying to contain my own emotions, "Don't mention it. That's what friends are for, babe." I said with a small smile.

He took me to a fast food place to grab a bite to take to the hotel with me. As we reached the hotel and got up to the room, he stopped holding his composure and broke. I couldn't help but pull him into my arms and stroke his back as he wept. I'd never seen Hugh actually cry and the sight was heartbreaking. Nonetheless, I'm glad I'm here so he isn't alone. We spent hours with him crying, telling me stories about his father and the kind of man he was, we rehearsed his lines for The Son until the sun came sweeping into the hotel room.

Present Day:

"What's on your mind?" He asked, giving me a serious look.

I looked at him, "Nothing, I was just thinking about the night I flew to London to see you."

He chuckled, "Ah, the night that started it all."

I playfully rolled my eyes, "I don't remember anything being started on my part. I remember trying to call your wife and let her have it... but you wouldn't let me." I laughed at the last part.

He laughed, "No, I wouldn't. I told you that you were better than that and I didn't want her to ban me from seeing you." He said with a smirk.

"Honestly though, that was the night that really did something for me. I had nothing but platonic feelings for you until you did that for me. After that weekend with you, just being there, being yourself and being there for me, helping me keep my head in the game with my film, it was hard to separate myself from developing feelings for you." He said quietly, slightly shaking his head almost as if he were in disbelief.

I kissed his cheek, "I'll bet you had no idea that I was absolutely smitten with you long before that. Which is why I flew to England. Do you think I fly across the world at the drop of a hat for anyone else?" I giggled.

He looked at me, eyes widening a little, "What? You were not. You never showed it at all."

I rolled my eyes again, "Um sir, you were married and I did not want to fight someone over their husband. I enjoyed our friendship and respected your marriage too much to do something stupid."

He smirked, "No, but we did have a cuddle in London."

I gasped, laughing, "No shit, you were an emotional mess. I wasn't going to just say 'Hey, I'm heading to the other room. See ya tomorrow, big guy.' What was I supposed to do?" I said crossing my arms.

He laughed, pecking my lips, wrapping his arms back around me, "Okay, point well made."

It was starting to get late, now getting closer to 10 pm. I yawned, looking at him, "I'm sorry, but I refuse to sleep on the couch again tonight. I'm going to sleep in my bed tonight. You're welcome to join me unless you want a hard sofa."

He smiled, "I'll be there in a second, love."

I smiled sleepily, yawning again before walking towards the bedroom, "Okay."

As I got to the bedroom, I put on a tank top and matching pajama shorts before climbing into the big king sized bed. It wasn't as comfortable as my bed at home, but it would do. About 10 minutes later, Hugh walked in interrupting the annoyingly funny reality show I was watching.

"Miss me?" He asked cockily while taking off his jeans and t-shirt, moving the blankets to lay beside me.

I chuckled, "No, I had Mama June and Honey Boo Boo keeping me entertained."

He rolled his eyes, "I can't believe you actually watch that." He laid his arm over my shoulder, pulling me closer to him.

I played as if I were offended, "Don't hate. They're hilarious."

He looked at the tv, "I'm sorry it took me awhile to come in here. I was on the phone with Oscar." His voice sounded sad.

I chewed at my lip, nervous for what was to come next, as I rested my hand on his bare chest, softly caressing it. "It's okay. Is he okay?" I asked.

He sighed, "He's fine. He's disappointed that his mum and I couldn't fix things, but he's old enough to understand that people have to do what makes them happy."

I looked up at him, "Well, at least he understands. Does he know where you're at?..." I asked lowly.

Hugh sat in silence.

"Hugh... You didn't tell him you're with me, did you?..." I asked, growing worried, lifting up to look at him.

He shook his head, "Well not at first, no. He asked where I was. I simply said LA. He asked who I was with. I didn't say. He said 'You're with her, aren't you, dad?' and you know I'm a terrible liar."

I exhaled the breath I'd been holding in hopes he did not tell his child I was with him. Oscar and Ava adored me, but I did not need the world thinking I ripped this man out of his marriage and away from his family.

He rubbed my cheek, "He knows you didn't do anything wrong. He's old enough to understand the issues Deb and I have. He knew his mum and I had been practically separated for years but didn't want to actually separate for their sake."

I shook my head, "I hope you're right. I also hope he doesn't call her and tell her." I said without thinking.

He shook his head, "He won't. He doesn't know what we're doing or what we've talked about. He knows you're always there. He probably thinks you're making sure I don't do something stupid and just being a good friend."

I nodded, "Okay... If you say so."

Hugh's phone lit up, a notification from Ryan Reynolds. It was a text. Opening it, it was a screen shot of his soon-to-be ex-wife, posted up with another man. I looked at Hugh, chewing my bottom lip, anxiously awaiting his response.

He looked at me, "Good for her. She deserves happiness." He said bluntly.

I pursed my lips, "You took that better than I imagined." I chuckled.

He smiled, holding his phone up to take a picture with me. "What are you doing?..." I asked, not ready for his response. I knew exactly what he was doing. He was going to post his own selfie to get back at her.

He smirked, "I'm just taking a selfie with my best friend that will be going on Instagram with the caption 'That's what friends are for'." He exclaimed proud of himself as he forced me to smile for the camera by tickling my side.

"I can't believe how toxic you are." I said with a chuckle watching him post the picture to his Instagram. You could clearly see he was shirtless, I'm in a tank top and we're close to one another. This was going to go over great on the internet.

He chuckled, "I can be toxic, but in a sexy way." He reminded me.

Author's Note: I'm actually having a lot of fun writing this. Let me guess... You guys want a part four?

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loser364 · 8 months ago

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Rory Keaner Imagines

-the one where he feels alone.

Rory saw his girlfriend Y/n standing at her locker. He walked up to her with his signature bright smile that rarely left his face

"Hey! Do you wanna hang out?" He asked with a smile. Rory had got blown off by Ethan and Benny again. He didn't really want to admit it but he was lonely. He looked at you as he waited for an answer.

“Sorry Rory, I have to babysit after school.” Y/n says feeling a little bad, but it quickly goes away when she remembers that it’s Rory and he’ll bounce back, by next minute.

Rory's face instantly fell but he nodded "Okay. Just- well- have fun, I guess." He said as his smile faded and he walked away. What had once been his happy mood was now replaced with a deep sinking feeling of worthlessness. He tried to brush it off but it stuck with him all the way to his desk.

Y/n gets to lunch and sits with Ethan, Benny, Erica, and Sarah. Y/n looks over and sees that Rory isn’t here. “Uhm guys have you seen Rory?” Y/n asked.

A wave of silence washes over the entire group as they realize that Rory wasn't there. Benny turns toward the door and stares before speaking "No. But I'm sure he'll be fine."

“But he seems really off today, I don’t thin-“ Y/n tries to finish but they push her concern down.

Ethan sighs and speaks "Look, Y/n/n, I know you care. And I know Rory's a great guy, but he has to learn that there are just some things he can't get involved in." Benny and Sarah nod in agreement. They all look at you with expressions of sympathy but also firm resolve.

She leaves the table and goes to look for Rory. After an agonizingly slow class period, school finally let out. Rory walked toward his locker, a miserable look on his face. He was still thinking about the conversation with the group and his mood had only diminished. He heard footsteps behind him and he turned to see you.

“Rory, uhm are you okay?” Y/n asked concerned for Rory, he was never like this. Rory's expression softened as he looked at you. He managed a small, weary smile "Uh, yeah. Yeah. I'm fine." He replied as best he could. He didn't want to admit he was unhappy. He was very embarrassed by his feelings. The last thing he wanted was to look like a coward Infront of you.

It wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out Rory was upset “Baby you don’t have to lie to me..you can come over while I’m babysitting,” She says trying to resolve the situation.

Rory blinked a few times in disbelief. This was an opportunity he had been dreaming of but he had been certain he wouldn't be this lucky.

"Really? You mean it?" He asked as a smile spread across his face. He began to walk toward you but stopped as he thought of something. "Are you sure that's okay with the people you're sitting for?"

She nods and smiles. Rory's heart soared at your response. It took everything he had not to wrap his arms around your waist as he replied"Alright then. Lead the way."

They get to the house she’s babysitting for. The parents explain everything and head off. Y/n sits on the couch and Rory joined her. “I’m really sorry, for making you seem unwanted,” she says.

Rory looks over, “It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean to love.” Y/n gets closer, “How about I make it up to you.” She says seductively. Rory chuckles.

She gets on her knees before him, and messes with his belt. He stops her hands, “Baby we can’t,” Rory says. “Yes we can, you just have to be quiet,” Y/n says and takes off his belt and he pulls away his hands and puts them beneath his head. He watched his girlfriend get to work.

She pulls down his jeans so he’s only in his boxers. “Someone’s eager, huh?” Y/n teases. He smirks down at her.

She pulls down his boxers and his member comes out hitting his lower abdomen. Y/n kitten licks his tip, which earns a throaty moan from him. He immediately covers his mouth. Y/n smiles. Such a contradiction, she smiles so sinisterly but still has those innocent eyes.

She takes him fully in her mouth and goes at a slow pace. This earns his hips to buck up and he started fuckign her throat.

She gagged but let him do it. She just sat there as he fucked his cock deeper in her throat. She gags a little. The vibration earning a moan from him.

He started thrusting at a relentless pace, trying to reach his peak. He abuses her throat.

His thrusts get sloppier, and he gets faster. His cock twitching in her mouth. She looks up to see him throwing his head back and he hangs his head low showing that face. The face he made before he came. She loved that face. A little crinkle of his nose and a twitch off his lips. He moans breathily. Y/n pulls away and swallows his load.

He threw his head back. Y/n pulls up his underwear and his pants. He buttoned them and put on his belt. Y/n kissed him passionately. Which he easily returned.

“I’m really sorry,” Y/n says sincerely. “You’re okay, stop saying sorry…let just watch a movie, love.” Rory smiles and turns on a movie.

#rory keaner smut #rory keaner x reader #rory keaner #mbav #rory mbav #ethan mbav #benny mbav #rory keaner x reader smut

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janeyseymour · 11 months ago

Note

Hey if you're up for a prompt I just thought of this Melissa x reader idea. Reader is a teacher at Abbott and all the teachers and the camera crew think the reader is not good when on camera ie. Smart Reader drops down to all of 1 brain cell like a deer in headlights when facing the lense, but it turns out everytime they've been filmed, either interviewed, or knowing they're shooting B-roll, Melissa has been around and Melissa has started getting suspicious of the situation. Love your work, now I'm off to read more of your writing 😘

hi i know this is so late, but... better late than never? I had a LOT of fun with this one- thank you for requesting!

Camera Shy

WC: ~4.2k (exactly!)

You aren’t an idiot. You’d like to make that very, very clear. You have your degree to teach, you have one masters, and you’re in the process of getting another masters. After this degree, you plan to get your doctorate. You have a few years of teaching under your belt at one of the neighboring districts. So, no. You aren’t an idiot. You’re actually quite the opposite.

But put you in front of the camera, and all of the intelligence in that pretty little head of yours? It’s gone. You’re reduced to all of about half of a braincell. You blush profusely, you stumble over your words, you genuinely just feel so awkward.

At least when you know there’s a camera on you. As everyone has seen from the documentary, as long as they are capturing you from a distance and you don’t explicitly know they’re filming you, you’re good. They’ve actually (with your consent) placed a few cameras around your room that are hidden or disguised so they can get more of you just doing what you know how to do. You’re in the comfort of your own classroom with your kids, and no one else is there. They’ve even managed to snag a couple of clips of you talking to your coworkers when they pop their heads into your room, specifically Janine. She tends to come in quite a bit to chat with you when she has a chance.

What people don’t realize from viewing the documentary is that all of your talking heads are done after the ‘scenes’ are shot, and they just gather you all into the hall or a classroom and call you one at a time to do different talking heads about the different situations you teachers have gotten yourselves into this week.

So when you’re doing your interviews, people are watching you from behind the cameramen. That means all of your colleagues are watching you- specifically that redheaded second grade teacher that you are undeniably attracted to. Your eyes flit to her figure constantly during your interviews or during b-roll shoots where they’re just getting shots of you all talking in the lunch room or before a meeting that Ava had organized in the library or gymnasium.

And you’ve caught her watching you too- acting like a deer in the headlights when the lens is on you. She probably thinks you’re an absolute fool. A young teacher who is just trying to get her foot in the door before heading off to another, better district. The only person who really knows of your brains at this school is Ava because she hired you.

The camera crew has come to realize that you don’t handle yourself very well in front of the camera as well.

“Do you want to keep participating in our documentary?” Rich, the head cameraman, asks you one day.

“Yeah,” you smile. “I think it’s really important that people see how teaching can change lives, and that every teacher has a different approach to teaching.”

“Okay, we just want to make sure that you’re still willing to do this for us,” he tells you gently. “If you want out and would rather just be in the background shots, here’s your out.”

“Oh. I don’t mind… most of the people I mingle with here participate, so I guess it makes sense that I would too. Why?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed this about yourself or not,” Rich chuckles. “But you’re terrible in front of the camera. You get all nervous and jittery whenever you know the guys are filming you.”

You turn red. “Yeah. I do. But I didn’t go into this profession to be on camera,” you joke. You can’t confess to him that the only reason you’re terrible in front of the camera is because Melissa is usually lingering around somewhere in sight, and you get distracted and flustered.

“But you know there are cameras in your room with the purpose of capturing you teaching your students or capturing the conversations you have with your coworkers,” Rich reminds you.

“Yeah, but I sometimes forget that they’re… if you guys want to come into my room and film, that’s fine with me,” you tell the head of the documentary. “I’ll be fine.”

And you are fine. Because when they’re filming in your room, Melissa Schemmenti isn’t around you.

But still, when you have to shoot B-roll or do your interviews, you are reduced to stuttering out phrases, half of them don’t even make sense. You’re as red as the second grade teacher’s hair, and you can’t help yourself.

After a bit of time, the shoots from within your classroom where they are panning back and forth and the crew is clearly in the room starts to air. And shockingly to your colleagues, you’re able to conduct lessons with the camera crew in your room.

You’re even able to have conversations in your classroom with your colleagues when Rich and his crew are in your classroom.

But still, during your talking heads and any B-roll with the entire staff present and watching, you are a flustered mess who can’t get a single sentence out without stumbling over your words.

After a bit, Rich comes back up to you.

“Y/N?” he asks.

“What can I do for you?”

“Care to do an interview?”

“About?”

“You,” he laughs. “In your room during your prep. We’ve been getting feedback from viewers that they feel they don’t really know much about you other than you get flustered in front of the camera during talking heads.”

“Oh,” you laugh. “Sure, I can do that.”

“My background?” you ask the cameraman that is sitting with you at your desk as you grade papers. “Sure. I grew up in the area, went to Temple, staying true to my Philly roots. Got my bachelors there, graduated top of my class. Headed to West Chester University to get my masters in reading, and I’m currently working on my masters for applied studies in teaching. After that, who knows. Maybe I’ll get a doctorate?”

The person behind the camera raises a brow.

“I know I can come off as a ditz and a bit air headed, but I do actually have the qualifications to be here,” you chuckle. “And I do love it here at Abbott. I think this place could be my home for quite some time.”

That bit airs about a week later, and the next day, your coworkers stare at you as you enter the faculty room the next morning to put your lunch away.

“Yeah?” you ask as you open the refrigerator door.

“When were you gonna tell us you were that smart?” Melissa asks you. “Smart women are hot.”

Immediately, upon hearing her deep morning voice directed at you, and her calling you hot for your brains (something rarely anyone said), you turn beet red.

“Uh,” you stutter out.

“Sweetheart,” Barbara cuts in. “Forgive us, but most of us thought you were about as ditzy as Janine.”

The woman in question whines a, “Hey!” out, but everybody else besides Gregory nods in agreement.

“It just-“ you glance over at the redhead who is staring at you. “I-it just never came up.”

It’s later that day that you have recess duty while the rest of the teachers are eating in the staff room together. Somehow, you become the topic of choice again.

“It’s just weird,” Jacob notes.

“Maybe she’s just getting more comfortable in front of the camera,” Gregory states. “I know most of us have had some adjustments to get more comfortable with the cameras and the cameramen.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Melissa sighs. “I dunno. It seems like it’s just during B-roll or interviews though now.”

“Well, we’re all there and watching when we have to do those things,” Janine notes. “But I don’t know why that would make her uncomfortable. She talks to most of us just fine individually.”

Melissa frowns. They all talk to you individually? She’s kept her distance for the most part, and any time that she talks to you, you’re reduced to fumbling for your words. Is it her?

The redheaded second grade teacher decides to toy with this thought for the next few days. She’ll make it known that she’s around for your interviews, she’ll make it very clear that she’s going to be somewhere else during your talking heads… and she’ll move around during the b-roll shoots, even if it means that she’s away from Barbara.

“Listen up, slackers,” Ava starts a meeting before the crew pulls you individually. “We’re doing our talking heads, and they’ve been a real drag lately. Liven them up!”

“We’re doing our best, Ava,” Janine jumps in.

“Talk about more! Create more of a storyline!”

Today’s talking head interviews just so happen to be about the scene from where they were interrogating you for having quite a few credentials.

“Y/N?” Janine smiles. “Oh yeah, she’s pretty smart- I just didn’t realize she was… that smart, and I went to Penn. We’re pretty much on the same level. She’s a little quieter than the rest of us, but she fits in well.”

“Oh, Ms. Y/N?” Barbara asks. “Sweet girl. Shy. But I didn’t have the slightest clue she was as bright as she is.”

“Me?” you raise a brow as Rich calls your name to take you to the hall. You nod, stand and head along with him. Melissa follows, making it very apparent that she’s watching you. You turn the brightest shade of red that you ever have.

“So, tell us what you thought about the staff asking you about your credentials,” Rich tells you. Your eyes flit to the redhead behind him, and her eyes narrow slightly as she folds her arms across her chest.

“I- uh, didn’t-“ you swallow harshly. “I didn’t think it was that big of- of a deal? I- I know how to- how to teach.”

“How did you feel about Barbara’s comment about you being ditzy?”

“I-it didn’t bother me,” you shrug. “I’m aware I-I can c-come off like that.”

It’s clear they aren’t going to get much more out of you, so he allows you to go, and you can feel your ears burning as you have to brush past Melissa to get back to the library.

“Schemmenti?” they call her name. “Since you’re here, you wanna?”

You thank God you don’t have to walk back with her. That would just be beyond awkward for you, and you’re not sure you would be able to conduct yourself properly.

Melissa leans up against the wall to do her talking head.

“So, tell us what you think of Y/N,” Rich prompts.

“What do I think of her? She’s cute, sweet when she actually talks- insanely shy. I think she’s a good teacher,” Melissa tells the crew. “I think she’s a bit of a ditz sometimes, but if her degrees say anything, she’s bright. I just don’t quite understand why she gets so flustered during B-roll or talking heads.”

“Interesting,” one of the other crew members hums. “Say more.”

“I mean, youse heard what we were talking about during lunch while she was doing recess duty,” the redhead shrugs. “She’s fine with the staff individually, she can handle you guys in her classroom now… but then whenever we’re all together, she sounds like a mor- please don’t air this. I don’ wanna hurt the kid’s feelings.”

“We won’t,” Rich assures Melissa. “It’s more just for our background knowledge so that maybe we can get some other footage.”

The next day’s talking heads are the same. The second grade teacher makes it very known that she will be watching your interview, and you can’t get anything out. Your eyes are wide, and you look like you just saw a ghost.

The camera crew sees the way that your eyes flit to Melissa, and one of them silently signals for a smaller camera to pan over to the woman watching you. She makes eye contact with one of them before raising an eyebrow. Interesting.

“Y/N?” Mr. Johnson is called for his talking head, but they take him to his mop closet. “Sweet, smart girl. Always tidies up her room before leaving… Oh, and something’s going on between her and Melissa.”

The man behind the camera gives him a curious look. “Can you tell us more about that? We won’t air it, but maybe it can lead us to something… new.”

” Can’t tell if she’s terrified of her, thinks she’s hot, or both,” Mr. Johnson laughs. “I seen the way Y/N’s eyes get all big whenever Melissa walks into a room. Ears turn red. It’s funny.”

With Mr. Johnson’s insights, the crew decides to play with this a little. They don’t know that Melissa is already suspicious of it as well.

They have Melissa pulled away when it’s your turn for your talking head of the day, and you’re able to make it through that interview with no problems.

They seat her next to you during one of the B-roll shoots, and you look absolutely terrified the entire time. Your cheeks are flushed, you nervous play with your necklace, and you fidget the entire time.

Then, they have her pulled from it under the guise of having to do another interview. You’re perfectly fine. You relax almost instantly. You stop fidgeting, and you’re able to listen to everything that Ava is going on about- as much as you wish you weren’t listening to some of it. That woman really is something else.

Melissa notices the way that you tense up when she’s around and seemingly relax when she isn’t. She can’t quite explain how it makes her feel. But soon, those episodes start to air as well. And there is a stark difference between the talking heads that you did in front of her and the ones you did without her presence.

After a few weeks of this game that the crew is playing, along with the game that Melissa is playing, it’s clear to the redhead what is happening. She’s the only one that you rarely interact with. She’s obviously the one who makes you nervous, and she needs to know why.

“Hey, hun,” Melissa comes in with one of the crew members who follows the second grade teacher rather regularly.

“H-hey,” you turn and close your laptop to turn your full attention to the redhead. Your ears turn beet red, as does your face and chest. “H-how can I help you, Miss Schemmenti?” You eye the camera warily.

“What’s goin’ on?” she asks you point blank. “Why’re you weird around me?”

“I’m- I’m not?” you raise a brow at her. “I just- I’m not great with the cameras.”

“That ain’t true, and you know it,” the redhead retorts. “You been so good in front of the camera lately. We’ve all seen it with the new episodes airing.”

You shrug. You really don’t know what you’re supposed to say.

“You don’ like me or somethin’?” she crosses her arms.

“No, M-Melissa,” you stutter out. “It isn’t like that at all.”

“Then what is it? Because you’re only weird when I’m around,” Melissa continues to dig her heels in.

Again, you shrug.

The redhead presses her lips together in a fine line before cocking her head slightly as she makes eye contact with the camera. Then, she turns on her heel and leaves. They follow her as she leaves before cutting back to you- jaw open and confused.

They pull both of you for interviews later that day, and you don’t even know what to say.

“I- I’m not weird around her,” you say. “I rarely talk to her unless she talks to me first, and even then, I don’t know what to say to her.”

“Is there a reason for that?” one of the interviewers asks.

You shrug your shoulders. “She’s part of the crew that I usually hang with, but she’s- you’ve met her. She’s got a tough exterior, and I’m a little intimidated by her- especially with how shy I already am.”

Her talking head isn’t much different. “I don’t know why she’s so weird around me. We don’t even talk that often.”

“Is there a reason for that?”

“She’s part of the crew, but I can be intimidating. I don’ wanna scare the poor thing… I actually do enjoy her presence,” the redhead says, and then her eyes unfocus, and it’s like she’s thinking of something else- you.

Later that day, they find the janitor that wanders the halls. His only comment on the situation is, “Interesting.”

The two of you dance around each other, the way that you have been. Until she starts to go out of her way to talk to you, because “Well, if we hang with the same crew, we might as well become friendly with each other.”

You still turn beet red any time she talks to you. She takes notice.

Finally, she corners you in your room during your prep one day right before school lets out for the year. She’s forgotten about the cameras that are still ‘hidden’ in your room due to the fact that they haven’t used those shots in months- you’ve gotten pretty good in front of the cameramen at this point.

“Oi, Y/N,” Melissa says as she knocks on your door gently and pulls the door so that it’s only open a crack. “We gotta talk.”

Your eyes widen, you bite your lip, and you turn beet red. “Y-yeah. What’s up?”

“Why’d you do that?”

“Do what?” you worry your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Get all nervous around me,” she says. “I ain’t that scary, am I?”

You shake your head. “No.”

“Then why do you get all red whenever I’m around? Stumble over your words? I’ve noticed it for a while now, so I thought I would try to be nicer to you to show you I really ain’t all that scary, but nothin’s working.”

You scratch the back of your neck before running a hand through your hair nervously. You really don’t think you can tell her that the reason you always get so flustered around her is because you’ve always thought she was very pretty, and you’re actually falling for her now that you’ve actually gotten to know her a little better when she talks to you at lunch or during B-roll shoots.

“C’mon, hun,” she prompts you. “It’s just us. You can talk to me.”

You glance over at one of the cameras on your bookshelf before sighing. “I- I don’t really know how to say this.”

“You got it,” she encourages you.

With a deep breath, you quietly admit, “You intimidate me.”

“I gathered that much, Y/N,” the redhead rolls her eyes playfully as she unfolds her arms and sits on one of the desks near yours. “Why?”

“Be-because,” you blink a few times. “Because I think you’re really pretty.”

“Well,” she laughs. “That’s because I am.”

“And I- I’m attracted to you,” you whisper out.

“You wouldn’t be the first,” she jokes with you, but then she turns serious. “Wait, what?”

“I think- I think you’re really pretty, and you’re funny, and smart, and you’re really good with the kids, and I just think that you’re a really wonderful woman behind that tough leather jacket you like to wear. I just like you, but you scare me, and I’m scared that I like you because you aren’t like anyone else that I’ve ever fallen for before,” the words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them. Your hands fly to your mouth in shock at yourself. You can’t believe you just admitted that. “Oh… Oh, God. Uh, just forget everything I just-”

You’re cut off by her lips being gently pressed to yours to shut you up. Your eyes widen for a few seconds before your brain starts back up and you kiss her back.

“You wanna know why I avoided you for so long?” she asks you once the two of you break apart for air. She’s looking at you with those glowing green eyes. You just barely nod. “When you walked in the front door on your first day, I couldn’t deny the way I felt about you. But I didn’t wanna scare you off- you’re already so timid. So I just let you be and admired from afar.”

“So… why did you start talking to me?” you ask nervously.

“Admittedly,” she chuckles softly as she tucks a hair of yours behind your ear. “The crew had something to do with that. They were constantly questioning me about you once you got more comfortable around the cameras… they realized you were only getting flustered if I was around, and I kind of noticed it too. So I took matters into my own hands,” she laughs. “I guess it paid off?”

“I’d say so,” you whisper. “Wow,” you sigh to yourself softly. “Is this… are you serious about kissing me just now?”

“I am,” she laughs as she leans in again and pecks your lips. “So… dinner at my house after we leave?”

“I think that’d be nice,” you sigh in content.

What the two of you don’t know is that Mr. Johnson just witnessed the whole thing, and before either of you could even begin to think anyone had heard anything, he’s running down the hall to tell the crew what he had just witnessed and that they have to pull the camera from your room to see it too.

—

You and Melissa, now an item but keeping it on the down low, spend most of the summer at the beach… you only find yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with her the more time you spend with her.

But as it always does, Summer goes by too quickly for either of your liking, and you find yourself back at Abbott. During the break, you kind of forgot that the cameras hidden in your room captured the sweet moment and beginning of the two of you. That is, until Rich pulls the two of you aside on your first day back. He takes the two of you into one of the meeting rooms to do a talking head- different from how they normally conduct these shoots.

“So…” he chuckles. “How was your break?” he asks the two of you during a joint-interview.

“Oh,” you turn red. “It was- it was fine.”

“Spent a lot of time at the beach,” Melissa shrugs, but she doesn’t look at you. You haven’t told the crew about your relationship.

“Uh, me too,” you say nervously, hoping it doesn’t give the two of you away.

“Did you two forget that your whole little love confession happened in front of cameras?” he asks you as he stops rolling and lowers his camera.

Your eyes widen, as do your girlfriend’s. The two of you exchange nervous looks.

“Well, we actually pulled the two of you aside to ask if it’s okay to air,” he tells the two of you. “We both know that you’re two of the more private people at Abbott, but we do think it would be great for ratings. Of course though, if you don’t want it-”

“Y-you can air it, if it’s okay with Melissa,” you say quietly. “I- I don’t mind.”

The redhead looks at you before taking your hand and squeezing it gently. “If Y/N is okay with it, I guess I am too… Can’t hide it forever, especially with loudmouth Janine around.”

—

When the first episode of the new season starts airing, the crew had decided use the first few minutes to do a recap of what had happened last school year, as well as a few things that people had missed. They show what had been aired last season, her confronting you the first time- when the cameramen were with her, where you hadn’t said anything. And then of course, it cuts to the shots from your classroom where the two of you had confessed your feelings for each other are there, and then it cuts to a talking head of Mr. Johnson.

“I knew it,” he chuckles from his mop closet. “I told y’all Y/N had the hots for Schemmenti. Hell yeah!”

The rest of the episode, both of your phones are blowing up from your coworkers in absolute disbelief. You laugh as you put both of your phones on ‘do not disturb’ before you’re curling further into Melissa’s side to watch the rest of the episode, a glass of wine in hand. Occasionally, you peck her cheek, or she dots your hairline with a gentle kiss when the show the two of you together. When the episode is over, you both retire up to her bedroom. She plugs in your phones before the two of you get ready for a good night’s sleep. Neither of you bother to respond to the plethora of texts you’ve both received. You’ll handle your ridiculous coworkers tomorrow.

#melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary

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thewickedjazzy · 4 months ago

Text

𝑺𝒑𝒊𝒕𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒆 : A vignette fic

Pairings: Chuuya x fem!reader x Dazai

Tags: crack, mention of word 'crotch' , mention of words' S&M' 'ropes & belt' but overall nothing nsfw, swearing & curses. please let me know if I forgot any Xx.

Author's note: omg, omg!! So this is my first vignette, i love the idea of it sm (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝), so a vignette fic is basically a collection of multiple shot scenes. And the fact that it's crack? Tops it *mwah mwah* hope you guys actually enjoy it? Please let me know if you want me to do more of this.

P.S. I'm not sure who created Chuuya and Dazai's bantering scene in the photo, but I edited it a little, and UwU, it's cute.

Word count: 2.2k

You and Chuuya Nakahara stand side by side, squinting down a narrow alley that reeks of old ramen and questionable life choices. The tension in the air is thicker than a badly cooked stew, but it’s not because of the mission. No, it’s because you’re stuck with Chuuya—the guy who seems to have skipped the tutorial on how to chill out.

“I still don’t get how we became friends so quickly,” you mutter, glancing at Chuuya from the corner of your eye.

Chuuya huffs, adjusting his fedora like it’s the crown jewel of his entire aesthetic. “You think I get it? The last thing I expected was to actually like one of Dazai’s friends.”

“Wait, are we actually getting along now? I should definitely blog about this—‘Unexpected Friendships: How I Learned to Tolerate My Frenemy.’” You said with an exaggerated british accent, your head tilted slightly to the side, giving a flirty pout and holding up a peace sign with a wink.

“Don’t push it,” he warns, though there’s no real heat behind his words.

The truth is, working with Chuuya is surprisingly easy—once you get past the short temper, the constant complaints about Dazai, and the occasional death threat. You had always thought you’d be in over your head dealing with someone from the Port Mafia, but instead, you found yourself enjoying his company. His straightforwardness was a breath of fresh air compared to Dazai’s endless scheming.

As you two began your search for the culprit who had pilfered sensitive information from both the Agency and the Port Mafia, you couldn’t help but throw a bit of sarcasm into the mix.

"Okay, but imagine stealing information only to figure out that the most feared Port Mafia member has a whole wardrobe collection of fedoras. heeehh," You sighed, rolling your eyes playfully.

Chuuya shot you a sidelong glance. “If you keep making jokes, I’m going to start thinking you’re the one who stole the files.”

“Please, I wouldn’t risk getting on your bad side,” you replied. “You’ve got a way of making even paperwork seem like a death sentence.”

“I’ll torture you one day,” Chuuya said with a sigh, more exasperated than serious.

“Oh, absolutely!” you said with mock enthusiasm. “I've always wanted to experience the classic ‘tortured by Chuuya’ scenario. Make sure to use ropes and belts, though—nothing says 'fun' like an impromptu S&M session.”

Chuuya’s eyes widened, and he froze in place, his face flushing bright red. “What?!” he stammered.

“Bestie, I’m kidding,” you said, stepping closer and whispering in his ear with a mischievous grin, “Even though I’m not entirely joking... I’d love to see you try it someday.”

Chuuya’s blush deepened, and he turned away, clearly flustered.

You chuckled and patted him on the back. “Come on, lighten up. Let’s get back to finding that bastard before you actually get the chance to use those ropes and belts.”

You and Dazai were hanging out at Chuuya's house, enjoying some wine and the rare moment of peace that didn’t involve life-or-death situations. However, you should’ve known better than to leave these two motherfuckers alone together, even for a second. As you walked back into the living room, you were greeted by the sight of Chuuya looking absolutely furious while Dazai was laughing like he had just heard the best joke of the century.

As they both turn to look at you, their expressions shift from whatever chaos they were engaged in to sheer confusion. Why? Because you’re now wearing sunglasses—at 10 p.m.

Chuuya, barely containing his anger, is the first to speak. “Why the hell are you wearing sunglasses indoors? At night?”

You strik a dramatic pose, placing two fingers under your chin and lips bitten like you’re about to slide into someone’s DMs with a “Hey, baby girl, you up?”. With all the confidence in the world, you sit down across from Chuuya, leaning back nonchalantly.

“I’m wearing sunglasses,” you say, your tone oozing fake coolness, “so no one knows what I’m looking at.”

Then, you slowly shift your gaze to Chuuya’s crotch, your eyes completely hidden behind the tinted lenses. The room goes silent for a moment. They're both utterly confused, obviously—Chuuya’s face turns from angry to completely flustered, his eyes widening as he realises where your focus is.

“W-What the hell are you doing?!” Chuuya splutters, clearly thrown off by your audacity.

Dazai, who had been watching the whole thing, finally loses it, bursting into uncontrollable laughter. He nearly spills his wine as he clutches his stomach, tears forming at the corners of his eyes.

“Oh my god! y/n you did notttt!!” Dazai gasps between laughs.

Chuuya shot Dazai a glare, his face still bright red. “Shut up, Dazai! This isn’t funny!”

You stand in the middle of a crime scene in Yokohama, your head pounding like a drum solo gone wrong. Sleep? Who needs it when you’ve got coffee—enough to make your system hate you for life. You’ve been running on caffeine and sheer willpower, and it’s a miracle you haven’t started seeing pink sheep dancing on the rooftops.

Dazai is strolling around like he’s on a casual walk in the park, while Kunikida is already knee-deep in his notebook, scribbling down everything with the precision of a man who’s too serious for his own good. Meanwhile, you’re squinting at the crime scene, trying to piece together the puzzle through a caffeine-induced haze.

After what feels like a marathon of connecting the dots, you sigh heavily, shaking your head as the realization dawns on you. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you mutter. “It’s the dead guy’s girlfriend. Classic case of ‘hell hath no fury.’”

Dazai glances at you, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “Figured it out, have you? And here I thought you were too sleep-deprived to function.”

“I’m running on three cups of coffee zero hours of sleep I'm ready to fight god or become him, but I still have more brain cells firing than you, Dazai,” you shoot back, earning a chuckle from him.

The investigation leads you to the suspect’s location. Turns out, she’s an ability user, so the police are out of their depth. It’s the Agency’s mess now, and you’re not sure if that’s a good thing or if you’re just about to add another layer of mess to your already weird day.

The three of you burst into the room where the suspect is holed up, only to find her cozied up with another woman, their fingers interlocked like they’re the leads in a sappy romance drama. It takes you all of two seconds to figure out what went down: she killed her boyfriend because he cheated, and now she’s got with the girl he cheated on her with.

Before you can say anything, Kunikida charges in with the no-nonsense attitude of a man who’s had enough of everyone’s crap today. He knocks her out cold and cuffs her with swift efficiency. Meanwhile, Dazai’s just standing there, hands in his pockets, watching the whole thing like it’s the best entertainment he’s had in weeks.

As the suspect curses under her breath, you can’t hold back the joke that’s been bubbling up inside you. It’s too good to waste, and your brain is running on autopilot now.

“Well, well, well,” you say, grinning like a maniac. “It’s obvious she did it for the plot. You go, queen! Honestly, you better spill the tea when we get to the investigation room.”

Dazai loses it completely. He doubles over, laughter echoing through the room.

Kunikida narrows his eyes as he tries to process what just came out of your mouth. “This is serious! How can you joke about this?!”

“Come on, Kunikida-san,” you say, patting him on the back. “She’s in cuffs, the case is solved, and we’ve got a hell of a story to tell back at the office. Chill a bit, yeah?”

Kunikida just shakes his head, muttering something about needing a vacation. But despite his irritation, there’s a tiny, begrudging smile tugging at his lips.

After what felt like an eternity drowning in paperwork at the Agency, you finally hit send on the last report and tossed your pen aside like it had personally wronged you. The boredom was suffocating, and you needed a break—preferably one that involved good company and even better wine.

You grabbed your phone and shot a quick text to Chuuya: “Yo, I’m crashing at your place before you head out. Got wine. Don’t argue.”

With the wine bottle in hand, you made your way to Chuuya’s place, already picturing the relaxation ahead. When you knocked on his door, it only took a few seconds before it swung open, revealing Chuuya in nothing but his black pants, the belt hanging loose, and his chest on full display.

You blinked. Then blinked again. It wasn’t every day you got to see Chuuya Nakahara shirtless—okay, maybe this was the first time, but still.

“Hey,” he greeted casually, as if this was the most normal way to answer the door.

“Sheeeshh, lord have mercy!” you giggled, not dropping your gaze off of him just yet.

He rolled his eyes, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks as he stepped aside to let you in. “Shut up. I was just about to get dressed.”

You sauntered past him into the living room as if you hadn’t just been blessed with the view of the century. You tossed your jacket and vest onto the nearest chair and unbuttoned the top few buttons of your shirt, trying to fight off the sudden wave of heat.

“How hot is it in here? Ugh, must be the humidity,” you muttered, though you knew damn well the real reason your face felt like it was on fire.

Chuuya, seemingly oblivious to your internal chaos, started yapping about something—what, you couldn’t quite tell. Your brain was too fried from the paperwork and the unexpected view to keep up. He eventually headed towards his bedroom to get dressed, leaving you to pour two glasses of wine. You took a deep breath and followed him, wine glasses in hand.

When you entered the bedroom, Chuuya was already half-dressed in his usual getup, adjusting his choker in the mirror. You couldn’t help but stare at his waist, so slim it could rival that of a top model. The words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop them.

“How many bicycle crunches do you do? Ain’t no way your waist is that slim.” You pouted, genuinely baffled at the injustice of it all. Like, seriously, what the hell?

Chuuya shot you a look that could only be described as utterly confused. “Say what now?”

Ignoring him, you walked over, setting the wine glasses aside before placing both hands on his waist, feeling the firm yet unfairly slim muscles beneath your fingers. “Ain’t no way you’re not wearing a corset underneath. Be honest.”

Chuuya froze, his face turning a shade redder than his hair. “Are you serious right now?” he sputtered, his voice rising slightly as he smacked your hands away. “Get a grip!”

You pouted dramatically. “I’m just saying, Chuuya. It’s not fair. I can barely do a sit-up without collapsing, and here you are, looking like you walked straight out of a fashion magazine.”

Chuuya headed over to his glass, holding it to his lips before drowning his wine in one go, probably regretting ever opening the door. “I seriously hate your guts.”

"Nahh, you love me," you say, raising your glass in a mock toast.

“Only because you bring wine,” he quips back, finally allowing a small smile to break through.

You clink glasses with him, both of you taking a sip. For a moment, you just stand there, enjoying the quiet. The mission can wait; right now, it’s all about enjoying the moment—and maybe, just maybe, teasing Chuuya a little bit more.

You: [sends a photo of yourself in the arcade, holding an AK and posing beside the score] “Honestly? SLAYED 💅🏻"

Bandages Whore: Ah~,😫 my bella, it would be an honour to meet my end by your hand—your tight black dress has me mesmerised.

Tainted Wine: I will kill you, Dazai! And y/n delete that photo right now!!!

You: Too late, it’s already immortalised in the group chat, babe.😚

Bandages Whore: got my first death threat online ngl the world is healing.

Tainted Wine: Piss off shitty Dazai! But seriously, y/n you look absolutely gorgeous and with that gun? A real spitfire. (ꈍᴗꈍ)

Bandages Whore: Spitfire??? Chuuya, what century are you from? 😭😭😭

You: Spitfire? 😭😭 Where’d you dig that one up? I CAN'T- KSJEJWIW

Tainted Wine: Hey!!! I was trying to be nice! At least I don’t go around asking to be killed in every conversation, you damn weirdo!😠

Bandages Whore: Maybe, but at least I know how to give a modern compliment. You gotta keep up with the times, Chuuya!😭

You: It’s okay, Chuuya. I appreciate the effort. But next time, maybe skip the spitfire line and try something that doesn’t make me feel like I’m in a black-and-white movie. 😭😭😭😭

Tainted Wine: I HATE YOU GUYS! 😤

Bandages Whore: [sends a photo of Chuuya doing yoga, looking very zen]

Look at Chuuya here, so zen and peaceful.

You: Aww look at him, very demure, very considerate, very mindful. ๑(◕‿◕)๑

Bandages Whore: Very demure? I'm dying 😭😭😭

Tainted Wine: Stop with that trend and those slangs. You’re older than that! Seriously!!🤦🏼

➵Want more of Chuuya & Dazai ?

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gleefullypolin · 6 months ago

Text

Stacy's Tipsy Musing's - Colin Bridgerton Hot Takes - Part 1

Ok boys and girls, we need to have a little chat about Colin Bridgerton.

Part 2 has been out now for a couple of days and there have been a lot of hot takes to come out of the season. A LOT of hot takes. I’m going to break this down into 4 parts. 4 questions that I'm seeing really bad hot takes about Colin.

Now none of this is new, I gotta say before Season 3 aired Colin was a hot button topic anyway. He seemed to be the Bridgerton brother that lots of people love to spew hate takes on anyway. But damn I gotta say its painful seeing the Polin fandom have so many bad takes falling from their lips.

So, I figured...having a little drink tonight, sitting down for Father’s Day (Happy Father’s Day, Colin) I’d give you the opinion on some of these takes that you didn’t ask for...Mine!

Ok let’s start with the hottest take. Question 1:

Does Colin really believe that Pen entrapped him in marriage?

“Perhaps that was another part of your planned entrapment”

Ok I have to say, I have never seen one line inspire SO MANY BAD TAKE FANFICS IN ALL MY LIFE! Let’s start at the beginning...he found out about Lady Whistledown by following Pen because he noticed she and his sister run off together and disappeared. His sister who was not speaking to Pen previously from his knowledge. So not only is he suddenly feeling betrayed by his future wife, but also his sister.

Now add to this, his trying to reconcile this lie in the middle of planning a wedding to the woman he thought he knew most of his life as quiet little Pen, who just weeks earlier he was trying to teach how to flirt and land a man. He is confused and angry.

But that’s only 2 layers of hurt. Let’s keep adding to that. Layer one, we have the lie. Layer two, we have a woman he thought he knew. Add in Layer three, the Marina situation.

The original LW lie for him was about Marina’s lie. The original entrapment. An entrapment that Colin was willing to look past. He was still willing to marry Marina despite her deception. He still checked in on her post marriage to Phillip to ensure she was happy, to see if she regretted NOT marrying him. Colin always regretted his behavior to Marina’s entrapment. An entrapment that LW pushed into the light and forced a different decision for him. I don’t think he cares about Marina now, he never once accused her of taking Marina from him, he never loved Marina, but she took his agency, his decision.

Now for the fun of it, let’s add layer four. Portia’s already accused Pen of entrapping Colin during his confrontation with her. An accusation he strongly defended her against. An accusation which led to him telling her he loved her for the first time and them sharing their first time together. Which he is now reminding her of. “I’m a man of honor. And we were intimate.” Colin knows how to hurt Pen. We always know how to hurt those we have known for a long time, and they are of course the oldest of friends. He is striking her where he knows it will hurt her the most. Because he is hurting, and she caused the blow.

So let’s talk about the biggest blow of them all. “Perhaps that was another part of your planned entrapment” He doesn’t look her in the eye when he says any of this. He can’t, because he KNOWS he’s being an asshole. He knows its below the belt. But she hurt him. He’s angry, hurt, lashing out.

Because of Layer five...Hot anger at what she wrote about him at the beginning of the season. This person who knows him better than anyone else, wrote truth to page. No one knows the real Colin the way Pen does. His brothers toasted him when he returned home because of his new female attention, his friends said he was more fun this season. But Pen called his new persona a ploy for attention. She saw him for what he was. A fraud. If he is to forgive Pen, he is to also start to acknowledge that there is truth in things she says that perhaps Lady Whistledown does not tell lies.

But then there is layer six. Jealousy and shame. Colin has sat in all of his emotions, yes he’s angry about what she has written,but we get to the heart of it, he’s jealous of her and that makes him ashamed of himself. That’s very Book!Colin coded who was very ashamed of his jealousy, so much so that Pen mistook his silence and brooding as shame of her. But this Colin is brooding in his own shame and jealousy and lashing out at her.

And then we get to layer seven. Colin loves Penelope above all else. And with this love and hurt and shame and jealousy, there is nothing that will stop him from marrying her. And in part, that is where his ire in this pointed cut comes from. He’s reminding her that they will marry. This will happen. This woman who is a successful writer, something he thinks he will never be, will marry him. Because he has laid claim to her. He has bedded her. They were intimate, she was compromised, and they have entrapped each other. But above all, he loves her, and Lady Whistledown will not change that decision for him this time. This time, he will marry.

Seven layers of lies, deception, past hurts, parental pressures, anger, jealousy and shame, and above all love sat on his tongue and wormed through his thoughts for days until they cut out at the small woman beside him that he needed to hurt in that moment. The woman he had been avoiding for that very reason.

Colin is not a hateful man. He was a kind man. He was rarely angry. But when he was finally put in a place where anger was his only emotion, he avoided Penelope, so that he didn’t hurt her, so he would not say things that were unkind and would hurt her. But when put into the place that he could not avoid her, he lashed out. He made it very clear how things were going to go and he pouted, and he brooded and he said unkind words.

And he was ashamed. And after that he did his best to avoid her, (by being out drinking, sleeping on the couch, avoiding intimacy) so he would not lash out at her again. Because he was ashamed.

Stick around for Part 2.... Why would Colin send Pen home alone after finding her on the street at night?

#colin bridgerton #polin #bridgerton spoilers #bridgerton s3 #bridgerton #stacy's tipsy musings #hot takes #you cant make me hate him

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ninebluehearts · 2 years ago

Note

I was wondering if you could write something with the reader being a Pillow Princess and Joel being dominant over her.. 😬🥺

Btw, I just recently found your blog. I love it! 💖✨

I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU ANON OMG-

You're literally so sweet! Thank you baby! 💗🫂

MDNI 18+

Warnings: Face riding, cunniligus, mentions of blowjobs, piv, cock riding, f!reader. Pure filth, basically.

Don't judge, this is my first time writing something like this 💅

☆--------------------------------------------------☆

You don't really know when it began exactly..

Maybe it was that one night where Joel spent a solid two hours in between your thighs, lazily lapping his tongue against your clit as his two fingers pumped in and out of your pussy, coaxing one orgasm after another, losing track around either the fourth or the fifth.

Or maybe it was when you rode his face for the first time; the entire experience was so intense and just felt so good, that both of you ended up cumming at the same time.

Your clit rubbing against his nose as his tongue eagerly pressed in and out of your core, his hand vigorously pumping his cock behind you.

Yeah, you couldn't really figure out when it began, but somewhere along the line, you became a pillow princess.

It wasn't intentional. Joel promised that he loved pleasuring you; that your pleasure was more than enough for him. And so far? From what you could tell, it has been.

You haven't tasted his cock in weeks, let alone cum before him at least twice.

Joel trying to find new ways to make you cum for hours, while he only came once or twice -or not at all, - became the new routine whenever you could manage to get each other alone in Tommy's busy little town.

You were so far into this game he was playing that you didn't even ask if he wanted anything in return anymore. You just laid there like a good girl and took it, just like he asked you too.

And that's why when he rolled you both over, demanding you fucked yourself on his cock this time, you were shocked.

"But-"

"I don't think I was asking, was I?" Joel tightened his grip on your thigh, making you whine as your hips snapped forward, grinding your clothed cunt against Joel's hip.

You bit down on your lip as you worked his belt open, grabbing the edges of his pants and tugging them down. You jumped when Joel harshly grabbed your hand, halting your movements.

"Just enough for you to ride my cock, honey. Don't get greedy now."

You simply nodded, making him grab your jaw in a tight, vice like grip that you knew would leave beautiful bruises in the morning. You cleared your throat, trying to ignore the way your pussy fluttered around nothing. "I won't, baby."

Joel nodded, his hand slipping up to gently cradle your cheek with his palm. "Good girl. See? It's not that hard, hmm?"

You twisted your head in his hand so you could press a quick, gentle kiss to his palm, before tugging his pants down a little further, just enough for you to be able to ride him like he said.

You hovered your hips over his, feeling his eyes on you the entire time. You couldn't remember the last time his gaze was so intense, though the familiar chills it always came with rolled along your back, making you shiver.

Joel's hand came up gently to hold your hip. "Doin' okay?" He asked in the sweetest tone. One that did not fit the situation you were both currently in.

"Just peachy." You said, a ghost of a nervous laugh escaping your lips. You began to slowly lower your hips down, your pussy easily taking in every inch of Joel's cock as you both moaned in union.

"Fuck- yep, just like that, sweetheart." Joel grunted out, guiding your hips back up, only to pull them back down just as fast.

Though your thighs burned and your back ached, you pressed on, mesmerized by the beautiful shade of crimson that burned from Joel's chest all the way up to his forehead, where beads of sweat began well up and slip down his face.

With one hand on the headboard, you reached down with the other, slipping your fingers into his brown and gray waves of hair, before gently beginning to tug on them, relishing in the deep, guttural moan he let out.

Before you could register what happened, Joel had you flipped over on your back, legs up and over his shoulders as he began to pound into your core relentlessly. "Why'd you have to play so dirty, baby doll?" Joel bit down on your neck, his entire body shaking as he held back his orgasm as best he could.

Your nails dug into his back as though you could pull him impossibly closer, your back so far arched up against his frame that you could only take quick, shallow breaths. "Don't stop!" You squealed out, your heals digging into his back as your eyes squeezed shut, the familiar burn in your belly turning into a wave of euphoria as you came, your mouth gapped open in a tight O shape.

Joel buried his face against your shoulder and neck, sending out a quiet thank you to the lord above as you rode out your orgasm, finally allowing him to cum right after you.

You both lay there for a while, holding each other with an occasional stolen kiss every now and then, both of you still glowing from the sticky layer of sweat that covered your bodies.

You let out a long, silent yawn, molding yourself into the space between Joel's arm and his side. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, a soft, content smile lining your lips. "I love you."

Joel pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his fingers beginning to gently drag up and down your spine. "I love you more."

"Impossible." You murmured, already beginning to drift off into the sweet heaviness of sleep.

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clus444 · 5 months ago

Text

The Mall

Simon Riley x Bimbo!reader

This is a Simon Riley introduction to my page. The reader is described as black but anyone can read. This took a minute to post because I had work and I didn't know a good situation. But anywayyys...Enjoy! Outfit inspo!!!

"He had the nerve to tell me that I need to get a grip on life," I speak into the phone. My friend Sasha snorts on the line. I roll my eyes a little bit at the sound of her laugh. I'm trying to tell this girl my problems and she playing. I stop and look at an outfit displayed in the window on a mannequin.

"Girl you need to kick this man to the curb. Hang up on you...not in the mood.," She mimics that TikTok sound. I laugh out loud at that as the jean two-piece rings around my mind. There are endless possibilities for outfits that can come out of this. The gold belt really pulls the outfit together. I smile brightly as a decision is made up in my mind. I get ready to text the man-child that is my boyfriend.

"Shit," Is all I here before I run into a goddamn big ass stone wall. My phone falls out of my hand and I try to catch myself. Big rough hands grip my waist and firmly pull me to them then my phone does one 'fuck you' bounce on the floor to me. I shriek when I look up and see a black face mask close to my face. Not expect him to be leaning down on me.

I can swear by the way his way eyes move, there must be a smirk on his face. I quickly get out of his grasp and move to get my phone. "Jumpy little thing," His British accent catches me off guard. I look him up and down, his 6'0+ self with muscles in places I didn't even know could have muscles. His deliciously thick arms that I would let wrap around me any day. "You're British," I state turning my head up to look him in the face.

He stares blankly for a second, "Am I?" I nod to his question and look at him funny.

"Your accent? Did you forget you have one," I question him and lean my weight on my hip and cross my arms. His mask protrudes a little so I assume he's licking his lips. I have no proof but, by the way his eyes flash what seems to be lust for a split second. Maybe he's a murder and he checking to see if I'm a good victim. I scare myself slightly.

His deep scratchy voice blesses my ears again," What's going on in that little head of yers?"

I finick a French curl braid between my fingers and sway my body a little," I'm trying to figure out what they fed you overseas. I've never seen any Brits look like you," I pause," Kinda like... Hansel on steroids."

He raises a brow at me before turning his expression neutral again. This man radiates that he's emotionally constipated. Lowkey kinda my type apparently since I'm still with Chris. That fucking asshole! The audacity, the courage, the-

He pushes the braid behind my ear and I turn shy. A smile creeps onto my face and I hope it doesn't have fuck me written on them. Ugh! Why Do I feel like this man can see right through me? His eyes...they feel different, something I can't quite place my finger on. But I'm not even sure I want to find out.

"Do yuh think of shit like tha all the time," what appears to be amusement in his tone," I'm Simon."

I place a hand on my chest," I'm Y/n."

"I can take yuh out this Saturday," He interrupts my thoughts. His tone is a matter of faculty. I clear my throat as I take in his words. I'm not shallow but this looks like a ain't shit ni-. Damn, this sucks to do but...

"I have a boyfr-" I try to get out but he quickly shuts that down.

"Dont remember askin'. But 'ell you can bring yer, little boyfriend if yuh want, makes no difference to me," he takes his phone out. Which by god I pity. It looks like it doesn't know what brighter days are. The cracks look like they should be slicing his fingers. But as he slides open his lock screen, he looks back at me.

I bite my lip as girly giggles come out and I give out my number," Don't forget to text me the details." What the hell am I doing? I'm not single so why the fuck am I giving my number out. This feels bad- no wrong but I also can't deny the butterflies in my stomach. I really hope for both of our sake he's not a criminal or something.

I bid him goodbye as I walked deeper into the mall. "Hel- motherfucking- lo? Can you hear me hoe," Sasha's muffled voice comes through.

I quickly pull the phone to my ear," Sash? You still here?" She huffs out loudly and I giggle. This is literally my bitch because who else would stay on the phone. "Why didn't you hang up?"

"WELLL I heard a loud ass crack noise and I guess when you picked the phone up, I heard this clear deep...raspy...sexy-" I cut her off.

"Stand up! You don't even know what this man looks like," I say in replacement of whatever she was going to say. She laughs exaggeratedly and annoyingly.

"WHAT I DO KNOW IS YOU BETTA GO ON THAT DATE! FUCK WANNABE ASS CHRISTOPHER," she yells and I hang up the phone.

I'm not finna let her wild ass keep yelling in my ear. She's literally crazy but I guess that's why are friends. My name and sane have never been in the same sentence before.

I continue to shop but with new energy, some would say a slight pep in my step. A new mission added to my list.

-Get a date night outfit.

A little short but thats because I wanted to work on part two and this other thing I'm creating.. I will have a nice little surprise, some would say chaotic. Also let me know if this was bimbo enough or not

Next Part

Masterlist

#x black reader #x reader #cod #tf 141 #task force 141 #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #x Bimbo!reader #Is this bimbo enough?#cod x reader #ghost cod #cod mw2 #there will def be more parts #simon ghost x Bimbo!reader

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carlsdarling · 10 months ago

Note

okay, now i need a fic about carl's gigantic balls😔😔😔

Jingle balls, jingle balls

Y/N wonders if Carl really has gigantic balls... Bit more of a plot, then sex. Everyone is 18 or over.

WARNINGS: smut, nsfw, unprotected sex, oral (male receiving)

As so often, you watched Carl as he helped Olivia to carry groceries into the warehouse. To do this, he repeatedly climbed into the back of the pick-up truck parked outside the warehouse and the fabric of his jeans stretched over his crotch, leaving a visible bulge. You giggled furtively, because ever since a certain day, you'd been a little obsessed with Carl and what was going on under his belt.

That was when Negan had first come to Alexandria with his men to demand supplies, and when two of his men had gone to get medicine from Rick's house, Carl had angrily stood in their way and threatened them with his gun. You had heard the gunshot from the house and seen Rick, Negan and Gabriel rush to Rick's house, so you had followed them, curious and worried at the same time.

Inside the house was Carl, his one eye glinting with rage, his cheeks flushed delightfully as he pointed the gun at Negan's men and forbade them to take the drugs. The muscles on his arm and neck were tense, and he ignored Negan, who approached with amusement and began to admonish Carl. But Carl was not intimidated by Negan, so the latter finally got a little annoyed and said: "So, dude, at what point were we? Oh yes! At your gigantic balls down there!"

The blush had rushed to your face and you had struggled to suppress a giggle despite the dangerous situation, so Gabriel had looked at you in bewilderment and confusion. You had thought Carl was cute ever since he had come to Alexandria, but since that day, you kept trying to imagine him naked and wondered if Negan was right with his comment.

However, you and Carl didn't get close at first because he spent a lot of time with Enid, and eventually he and Enid became a couple, which made you jealous. But around the time of Carl's 19th birthday, things started to fall apart and a few months later they had a big fight and broke up, leaving Carl single again. Faced with this fact, you were all excited, but at first you just couldn't find a way to get closer to Carl.

Until the day you happened to be assigned to guard duty together. It was a few days before Christmas and Alexandria was already festively decorated; it was snowing lightly as you and Carl climbed the stairs to the wall.

You kept glancing stealthily at Carl from the side. He was wearing a parka against the cold, so you couldn't catch a glimpse of his crotch, but you were firmly convinced that Carl was well equipped, and Negan's words kept coming back to your mind.

It didn't take long for Carl to notice your strange behavior. "What's wrong?" he asked with a hint of irritation. "Why do you always stare at me like that?"

You immediately blushed. "What? Like what?" you tried to deny it.

Carl looked at you with raised eyebrows, snowflakes settling on his bandage. "I don't know. But you're always gaping at me like you're trying to figure something out." Your face grew even hotter, and Carl grinned knowingly. "You have the hots for me, haven't you?"

"No," you immediately denied it.

"No? Too bad," Carl said casually. "I mean, I'm single again, and we could have some fun." He pointed to a vacant house near the wall. "There don't seem to be any walkers out today anyway. No one will notice if we disappear for a while." He winked indecently at you. "But it's not like you're interested." He shrugged his shoulders.

You cleared your throat. "Umm, I wouldn't put it like that. It's just..."

"What?" Carl eyed you with amusement.

"Well, Negan made a remark about your balls back then." You giggled, embarrassed. "I've always wondered since then if it was true. Well, that they're gigantic."

Carl laughed out loud. "Okay, so they're not small," he let you know in a teasing tone. "Neither is the rest. But don't you want to find out for yourself?" He stepped closer so that his breath brushed hotly across your cheek.

The arousal swept over you like an electric shock. You could smell Carl's scent very clearly, his long hair tickled your face and his pheromones mesmerized you. You and Carl had never been this close before. His lips almost touched yours. "Yes," you breathed, your heart pounding wildly.

"Come on then," Carl said, taking your hand after looking around and realizing that no one was watching you. He pulled you down the stairs and over to the abandoned house. New residents were due to move in these days, so the heating was turned up and it was comfortably warm.

Apparently Carl had been pretty needy since breaking up with Enid, because he pulled you into a hug as soon as he closed the front door behind you both and kissed you fiercely, his hands sliding under your clothes and immediately fumbling with the clasp of your bra. "Bedroom," he murmured as he pushed you towards the stairs. On the way up, you were already stripping off some of your clothes. You admired Carl's naked torso, the finely chiseled muscles, the fair skin, and the soft line of dark hair that led down from his navel.

You fiddled eagerly with Carl's belt. "I want to see you," you said breathlessly, licking at his neck.

Carl groaned, shoved your hand aside and undid his belt and the buttons of his jeans himself before sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling down his jeans and boxers. His cock was standing straight up, the tip touching his stomach and leaving a wet trail. You grabbed Carl by the shoulders and made him lie on his back, then you took his cock in your hand and began to gently rub up and down and apply pressure. Carl whimpered and squirmed on the bed, his eye closed. You let go of his dick and turned your attention to his balls - indeed, they weren't gigantic, but they were big, one almost filling your entire hand. "Are they always this... full?" you teased him, caressing his balls, swirling your tongue around his red, precum-oozing tip.

Carl whimpered and grinned sheepishly. "Maybe not quite so full," he whispered, his voice hoarse with excitement. "It's just, uum, I've got a bit of blue balls, if you know what I mean, oh please, don't stop." He groaned lustfully and bucked his hips up as you playfully licked his balls.

You leaned over Carl to kiss him and he yanked impatiently at your panties, slipping them over your thighs and shoving his long fingers between your legs. "You're already so wet, baby," he gasped, gripping your hips. Very slowly, he pushed his dick in.

You trembled with pleasure, and he chuckled, while his cock sliding inside you, making naughty slippery noises. You clenched your muscles around him, and he started moaning loudly, arching his back. You leaned forward and touched his big balls at the same time, gently massaging them, and this almost drove Carl over the edge, he was so close to cumming, but he successfully held himself back.

The way his dick was stretching you out was amazing, and you whined loudly, which made Carl grin. "It's not just my balls that are big," he joked.

"Oh my god, Carl," you moaned and the movements of your hips became faster and more erratic as you felt the orgasm approaching. When you cum around his cock, Carl feverishly bucked his hips, he let out a little scream and his cum filled you up to he rim. You had to grip onto his shoulders for support. "Going wild, huh?" you panted. Carl lied back, exhausted, he tried to catch his breath.

You collapsed on top of him, your head resting in the crook of his neck, before you dismounted him to snuggle up to him.

Carl looked at you, his cheeks still flushed, his heart beating hard. "That was... beyond words," he whispered and kissed you. You touched his balls again, and Carl inhaled sharply.

"They're not so full anymore," you said, giggling.

Carl smiled a little bashfully. "You took care of them, didn't you? But you have to admit, they're really big," he hinted with a pout.

There was no denying it. "They are," you giggled. "So is your dick."

Carl suddenly pressed you into the mattress and lay on top of you, gently spreading your legs. You could clearly feel that he was ready for you again. "Since you liked it, can we do it again?" he suggested. "Again and again," you mumbled as Carl penetrated you a second time.

Tags: @knochentrocken0808 @xxcarlswifexx @taylormarieee @tessasweet

(Originally the fic was planned for X-mas time, but then my dad passed away, so it got delayed)

#the walking dead #twd #carl grimes #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes imagines #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes smut #carl fanfiction

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starphasedd · 2 years ago

Text

Instinct

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

One-shot. Rated 18+ for sexual themes.

I'm SO proud of this one. The intention was a short and sweet one-shot but then it turned into the beast below. Very proud of my work here.

Shout-out to my babes @meand-allmy-alteregos for the inspo! She also helped me really map out some great dialog for Ghost here. ❤️

Rain patters softly against old metal roofing; a few drops slipping through the cracks here and there. A puddle begins forming in the corner of the room. The walls creak and moan as wind pushes around around the victorian outhouse. It whispers gently every now and then, the songs of Mother Nature's cries filling one part of your head--letting some of the adrenaline from today's misson seep out the other side.

"No luck?" Your nimble fingers are playing with the harness wrapped around your waist, trying to get somewhat comfortable for the long night ahead.

On what floor there was that wasn't dirt, Ghost sat with his back against the wall. His large and broad figure takes up most of the space in the corner he chose. Presently, he's fumbling with his communicator, trying to get ahold of Price. But at some point during the shootout you both just endured, it got side swiped by a bullet and hasn't been working. He's frustrated. You can tell by the way he's gone completely silent.

You've known him for many years. In fact, you knew him before he was 'Ghost'. You knew him as Simon. Over the years of getting to know him, he'd been a man of very few words. But even so, when he went completely silent like this, that meant he was frustrated. He did it more for your safety; never wanting to bark at you in a frustrated moment like this. You told him he didn't need to worry about stuff like that. You'd rather him reach out to you for help than suffer alone--and that applied to every situation. Not just a broken communicator.

You stop fumbling with your harness when he doesn't respond and turn to look down at him.

"Hey." you say.

He doesn't look up.

You click your tongue, stepping closer to him. He still doesn't look at you.

"Hey." You say again.

Again, he doesn't give you the time of day. But he does acknowledge you by huffing gruffly through the cloth of his mask.

Your mouth pulls up into a straight line, irritation taking over your facial features. You watch him fumble with the device a bit longer before you inevitability decide to step closer and reach down to quickly snatch the communicator from him.

His large hands drop to his thighs, and finally, he decides to acknowledge your existence. His eyes are narrowed, as if he's scowling underneath the skull mask. But that doesn't phase you, it never has.

"Stop." You say firmly, tossing the communicator to the floor behind you. You don't break eye contact with him. "It's broken. Leave it."

"Rather bold of you." he says, adressing you by your middle name at the end.

You hated to admit it, but you loved when he called you by your middle name. It felt personal, and he only did it when the two of your were alone. So sometimes, it also felt rather intimate.

"Brat." You say, a smile now gracing your lips as you look away from him to finish talking your harness off.

He watches you closely, his eyes dropping from your face down to your waist where your little hands are working the harness open from your chest pack. He admires how gentle you are with it--taking your time to slowly pull the fabric strap through the belt and let it drop to your side.

After a moment of watching your hands, his eyes venture back up to your face, where he watches your eyes blink slowly in concentration. Your lips are pouty, indicating your growing irritation with the harness you're trying to work. You groan when it finally comes open. And when it falls from your body to hit the ground with a thud, you sigh loudly. One of your hands reaches up to rub over your shoulder where one of the straps had been digging into the muscle there all day.

"Fucking awful thing." You say. Your posture is visibly more relaxed now.

"What are you complainin' about? My packs' about twenty kilos heavier." Simon speaks as he watches you slowly approach him.

"You're also about a foot taller than me and a hundred pounds heavier." You retort.

"Sounds like a personal problem." He says. When you stop and turn to look at him, you see his eyes squinting. You know he's grinning.

"You're so rude to me, Simon." You mock, grinning back at him.

"That right?" He asks, his voice deep and velvety.

"Yep." You respond

You take one step closer to him. A grunt sneaks up your throat involuntarily when your knees bend to sit down on the cold wood floor next to him. You plop down close enough to him to feel the heat radiating off his massive form.

It's dark in the one-room shack. The only bit of light was coming off the moon, shining a direct beam over Ghost and you. The stream illuminated the hard part of his mask and lit his dark brown hues up like a fresh cup of hot coffee. His lashes were long and blonde; giving his gorgeous eyes the perfect amount of shade from the intrusive moonlight.

He still has his arms crossed over his chest, but when he notices you shift to turn towards him, he drops them to his sides.

As stated above, you've known Ghost for a long time. You've been on many missions together. Whether it be in full groups or alone like you are now. He's seen all the good and all the bad of you. There's nothing you could say or do to suprise him at this point. So when you turned to him and asked your next question, the thought of refusal never crossed his mind.

"May I?" You ask, bringing your hand up to point towards his side--where the junction of his chest and arm is.

It was genuine and harmless.

Ghost nods his head towards you and lifts his arm as an invitation. You slide over to him easily, slipping under the heavy appendage he just lifted for you and settling your head on the side of his right pectoral muscle.

You lay next to him, otherwise. Your head is the only part touching him. Your back is arched to match his, and it's incredibly more comfortable on your neck as well. Your hands come down to busy themselves in the pocket of your hoodie so as not to accidentally lay them on his stomach like your body desperately wants to. It's instinctual, you think.

It happens like this sometimes. And you're so happy he's comfortable enough with you to be like this. You like to think he wouldn't do this for anyone else; that you're different to him.

Certainly, he's different to you--in the sense that you wouldn't trust any other man under a rather intimate situation like this. He gives you a true sense of security and ease. You would most rather be on a misson with him than anyone else; including Soap. Whom you've come to love like a big brother.

Naturally, it doesn't take long for you to fall asleep. He excudes heat on this cold winter night, and that puts you right out.

When you wake a couple hours later, the rain has stopped. It's muggy; steam rolling in through the cracks and holes on the walls. The puddle in the opposite corner of the room had filled significantly through the night and started to flood the floors. Luckily, you and Ghost picked the right spot. The floor boards were slightly elevated so neither of you seemed to be wet.

Your eyes stuggle to adjust to the moonlight. You blink and roll them back a few times in an attempt to settle on the surrounding area. Your ears are sharp--you can't hear anything outside. No footsteps, whispers, shuffljng. Nothing. Everything appears to be clear for the moment as your eyes finally adjust.

When they do, however, you look down to see your body completely intertwined with Ghosts.

You're on your side, chest pressed firmly to his chest. Your leg is arched up and over his; your core sitting firmly against his thigh. Your arm is wrapped around his waist, hand sitting lightly on what feels like rock-hard abs.

The thing that throws you off, though, is when you shift a little and feel something heavy sitting on your hip. You glance down at that moment of realization and see that his arm his wrapped around you, his large hand laying comfortably on the biggest curve of your hip.

His touch wasn't foreign to you. There had always been fleeting touches from him. Your shoulder, lower back, your arm. He knew you were comfortable with it and never overstepped. But your waist was a completely new feeling. A feeling you hadn't felt in many, many years. It was a feeling that, if not tamed quickly, could ignite a dangerous fire below and stir waters that hadn't been disturbed in a very long time.

You close your eyes for a moment and swallow, throwing any thoughts of that to the back of your head to revisit later when you were alone.

You haven't looked at him, but his steady breathing and the slow rise and fall of his chest indicate he's sleeping. And you wouldn't dare wake him. The man never got any sleep as far as you were concerned. He never let you take watch. He always volunteered and forced you to get your sleep.

So you turn back, ever so carefully, in your best attempt to keep from waking him.

Only when you lay your head back down, your eyes open for a brief moment, and glance down towards your leg now hanging over his side.

And you see it.

Your breath catches in your throat, and you can't keep the heat from creeping up your neck to your cheeks.

A tent appears in his jeans directly next to your leg. The detailed outline of his thick cock sitting taut on the inside of his thigh sends shivers down your spine that you can't help.

Holy fuck. Holy fuck.

It's big--thick and long. And it's so hard. It honestly looks to be painful. How the fuck can he sleep like that? His cock is hard as rock, constricted and throbbing under the jeans that are relatively tight on his muscular thighs.

You can't help the desperate throbbing between your legs when you see him so bricked up under his trousers. And you exhale deeply, trying to control your rapidly increasing breathing.

In your attempts to keep from waking him, you don't notice his breathing change. And his chest stopped rising as high as it was.

When his deep, velvety voice rings through your ears unexpectedly, you jump slightly.

"Don't flatter yourself. I was only sleeping." He says. When you glance up, he hasn't even opened his eyes.

You struggle to find words for a moment, the shock of his very obvious arousal clouding your mind and throwing any rational thoughts out of the window.

"Is that? Normal?" You ask, voice quavering slightly as you try and keep your voice down.

He clears his throat and nods.

"Happens sometimes." he says. This time, he slowly turns his head towards you and opens his eyes to glance down. "It's involuntarily."

"Oh." You say, blushing when you register that it sounded relatively disappointed.

He stares down at you, his hand still laying in the curve of your waist.

"Hoping for a different excuse?" He asks, his voice only above a whisper. It was deep and vibrating deep within his chest.

"No. Just surprised. That's all." You say softly.

He watches you for a moment before he speaks again.

"Sorry. Is it...making you uncomfortable at all?" He asks.

"No! No. It's fine. I know you can't help it--" you say softly. "--just looks a bit uncomfortable for you."

You can see him swallow this time and that suprises you. Not often you can see such visible signs of emotion in Ghost.

"Sorry. Can't just make it go away, or I would." He says, turning to look away. He lays his head back on the wall. "Just ignore it."

You slowly lay your head back down on his chest and think for a moment.

"Why can't you get rid of it?" You ask.

He shifts a bit and turns his head back towards you. His chin brushes your forehead.

"Be awful inappropriate, wouldn't it?" He says, his deep vibrato vibrating your head.

You don't look up at him, but you can feel his eyes on you. You keep your eyes straight, concentrating on the wall so you don't glance down at his pants again.

"Does it hurt?" You ask softly.

He breathes out slowly, his breath brushing your hair from your eyes.

"Nothin' I haven't dealt with before." He says.

You don't respond. Your thoughts too clouded with the thought of his throbbing hard cock just below you. Eyes still focused on the wall, and your hand lay flat on his stomach. His hand is still on the curve of your waist. His fingers twitch slightly when you slide your hand back towards your chest.

You don't know what possesses you to say what you say next, but comes out clear as day.

"Do you want help?" You say--it's a tiny whisper.

His breathing pauses for a moment, and you can feel his eyes burning into your head. His fingers bunch a little, crumpling the fabric of your shirt. You tear your sight from the wall and turn to look up at him.

The moment your eyes meet his, you can see the newfound lust swishing around in those dark brown hues. He has his massive neck craned down to meet your gaze. Your hand slowly slides up his abdomen to rest on his chest in the valley between his swollen pecs.

His hand leaves your waist to slide up your body. Over the curve of your waist and up your arm to the back of your head where his palm lays over your neck. He brushes the hair from your neck, and his fingers start to trace the line of your jaw.

"Are you sure?" He asks, his voice an entire octave lower.

His thumb comes up to brush over your bottom lip, and you open your mouth for him. Your hand slowly starts to descend his body. You trace all the way back down to his stomach before trailing over and locking your fingers on the metal belt buckle that holds his pants locked in place.

Gingerly, your nimble fingers begin working the buckle open.

He doesn't make a sound, and he doesn't loosen his grip. Your eyes remain locked on his as you pull the buckle open. His thumb takes your invitation and slowly slips between your lips, grazing the top of the bottom set of teeth.

When your hand frees his jeans of the belt buckle, you move to pull open the botton next, which doesn't take long. His thumb brushes over your tongue as you slip the warm flesh of your hand under his jeans and underwear.

His groin is dusted in a light field of pubic hair, trimmed and neat. Not bare, but not overwhelming. A conscious effort to prevent himself from smelling.

He keeps hygiene in mind? Such a beautiful attribute for a man to have.

His skin pulls a little tight when your hand makes contact with his shaft, and his breath catches in his throat. You slip all the way down, grabbing around the most girthy part of him and slowly pulling back. He springs from his jeans, long and thick. He's covered in veins, like his arms. It's a pasty white, transitioning to pink at the head. And the head is swollen, almost red from the pre-cum dripping out.

You give him a soft stroke from the base, all the way up to the head where your hand begins to coat in his arousal.

He mmms low in his throat, and you can't help the sweet smile that graces your lips.

"You're worked up." You tease in a soft tone.

You give him another strong stroke and his hips buck into your touch.

"Can you blame me? You practically threw yourself over me in your sleep. Like it was instinctual." He huffs out.

You lean your upper body up to press a soft kiss to the hard part of his mask. Your hand begins slowly stoking him at a steady pace.

"Maybe it is instinctual." You breathe against his mask. "B'cause you make me feel safe."

He groans at that, his head falling back to rest against the wall as you steadily stroke his aching cock.

"Fuckin' hell, woman." He huffs.

You continue stroking him for a few moments before your hand leaves him all together. This catches his attention, but he doesn’t move--just assuming you were giving your wrist a break.

Only when the wet cavern of your mouth wraps around his tip does he open his eyes to look down. You moved so quietly; your laying on your side across his stomach. Your back is to him. Your hot tongue wraps around his girth as you slowly let your mouth drop as much as you can.

His hand comes down to lay on the back of your neck. His calloused fingers begin to intertwine with strands of your hair. He takes this opportunity to swipe all hair from one side of your head so he can see your jaw moving around his big cock. A groan slips from underneath his mask as you begin to suck him in earnest.

You look comfortable, oddly. Your body seems relaxed, your thighs curling up together towards his knees. He notices how your hips start to circle slightly. Like you're trying to add pressure to something--like your trying to add pressure to your clit.

The vulgar sounds of your wet mouth mixing with the obscene amount of arousal he's producing fills the silence in the room. It only makes him want you more.

His muscles are tight, and his hips jut up in unison with your mouth. Gently, of course. As to not hurt that pretty little mouth of yours.

His hand leaves your neck and slowly starts to slide down your arm. Then to the side of your chest. Then to the curve of your waist. His fingers lock on your hip bone and hold you steady as his hips rut into your mouth. He groans your middle name. His preferred way to address you.

You weren't actually expecting him to, but his hand slowly starts to creep over your hip and down your belly. Once his fingers grace the hem of your jeans, he pauses. As if asking permission, but silently.

You give him just that by turning your lower half so your ass is fully on the ground. You spread your legs and he groans.

Slowly, his hand slips under your jeans and into your underwear, where he finds you completely and utterly soaked for him.

He slips a big finger through your wet folds, soaking the skin and dragging it back up to your clit. He circles you slowly, but roughly. He applies just enough pressure to make you pause and whimper against his cock.

"Y'like that, baby?" He asks softly, his voice almost sounding choked.

He follows the question up by immediately moving his hand down to slip one large finger inside you. Instantly, you clench around him. The feeling of being broken open for the first time in so long makes you whimper again. It vibrates his cock and he throbs, groaning behind his mask.

His finger begins pumping into you at a steady pace while his palm softly rubs against that swollen bundle of needy nerves. You can feel every ridge and scar on his finger as it fucks you quick. Your legs start to buckle around his hand and fall closed together, but he shoves them back open with his forearm.

Then he adds a second finger and you swear it's the size of a real cock. It certainly feels like it. His fingers are long and thick, muscular, from all the years of wear and tear. He pumps into you harshly, bottoming out at his wrist. Your toes are starting to curl in your boots, and your abdominal muscles are pulled tight in concentration.

At this point, it's hard to concentrate on anything. You didn't notice you'd completely stopped sucking his cock the moment he sunk another finger in, but he hasn't said anything. Your hand is still wrapped around the base and your lips are still pressed to the tip. But your tongue has retreated back to your mouth to lick your lips as your orgasm approaches.

"M'sorry. M'sorry Simon." You mumble a weak apology to him. "I-I.....I can't.....can't....."

It's not intelligible. It's coming out as quiet little whimpers; words mashed together in aroused nonsense. You're trying to apologize for how you stopped pleasuring him. How the pleasure he's giving you is too much.

He hushes you, though. His opposite hand comes around the other side of your head and flattens on your chest. He pulls you down to lay on his stomach as you gasp for air. His heavy cock drops to lay on the exposed part of your chest. A tiny bit of cleavage perfectly open for his viewing pleasure. He's still throbbing red; leaking pre-cum all over your skin.

His fingers continue digging into your cunt, hitting that sensitive spot deep inside you.

"Don't you worry about me, love. Cum; give me a good one." He groans out, eyes locked on your fucked out face.

Pretty eyes screwed shut, tears of pleasure rolling down your cheeks. Lips parted and swollen from getting bitten. Cheeks are still bright red. Fuck, he could look at you all day.

Your breathing is heavy, and you're trying your hardest to stay quiet, but sweet moans keep rolling off your lips as he pumps you hard with his fingers. Your little hands reach down and grab onto that big tattooed forearm of his and dig your fingers in. Your hips are starting to tense and jut upwards.

"Good girl, c'mon. You can do it." He encourages.

His cock is still sitting heavy on your your chest, leaning arousal on your skin. You can feel him throbbing.

"Simon." You whimper.

And that seems to do something to him, because immediately after, he cums on your chest. He moans his time, his opposit hand digging into your hair as his white juices start to cover your chest. Some leaks between your breasts and he curses at the sight.

"Fuckin' hell, woman. Look at ya." He moans out, his chest heaving as he continues to fuck you with his fingers.

It's not long after that you follow; the string pulled tight in your lower stomach snaps and your orgasm rockets off. Your back snaps into an arch, and you squeeze his forearm even harder. Your legs shoot up again and involuntarily try to shut over his hands. Everything trembles as he fucks you through your orgasm.

"Simon. Simon. Simon." You whimper for him.

"There ya go, love. Good girl." He praises.

His fingers start to slow and eventually pull out. You lay on him, trying to catch your breath. You feel him shift, pulling his hand up to his face and your eyes open to watch him.

You catch him lifting the bottom of his mask to slip the cum covered fingers into his mouth. If you thought your face was red before, there was no chance compared to now. Your mouth hangs open as you watch him lick your arousal off his fingers. And he groans.

"Christ." You mumble as he pulls his hand back from his face.

"Knew you'd taste good." He says, looking down at you. "Next time, I'll get it directly from the source."

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty #simon riley x reader #smut

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alkaline-wtr · 6 months ago

Text

WE WILL SURVIVE

- - CHAPTER 4 - -

Graves x reader Description: Reader and Graves leave the city. Genre/Warnings: zombie apocalypse AU, Graves x reader, Ghost x fem!reader, survivor!reader,angst, gore, violence, explicit language, weapons, mentions of death WC: 1.3k My Masterlist ** This chapter is definitely not my favorite. I tried making it longer but, where I ended it just felt right, and I was stumped on how to continue it smoothly. So, I figured it was better to get it out rather than sit on it for any longer. I'm sorry it's a bit lame. However, I've had a handful of messages and comments about my portrayal of Graves in chapter 3 so, to make up for the short chapter I have a fluffy one-shot of Graves and reader in the works to go up within the day. It will be a part of this series but, an optional read as it won't be significant to the story at all. It's just a small scene that I didn't feel fit into either chapter. Anyways, Ghost is coming back soon! Thank you for your patience and Enjoy.

If you'd like to be added/removed from the taglist please, let me know.

<< PART 1 / << PART 3 << PART 3.5 (optional)

The yellow sun shines brightly overhead, its warmth seeping into your skin. For a few moments, as your brain adjusts between sleep and consciousness, you almost forget where you are and the state of the world.

You rub your eyes groggily. Considering the position of the sun, it couldn't be later than noon.

Looking around, you notice the littering of bullet shells, cans, and broken bottles from the makeshift gun range Phillip had put together the day before. The fire he built between you was now nothing but embers. The tarp bed on the opposite side was gone, and so was he.

Wait. Gone? Where did he go? Why would he leave? Any grogginess you had previously felt washed away in an instant.

Sitting up on your knees, you glanced around. The roof is quite large, maybe he didn't leave and he's somewhere around here. You thought to yourself trying your best to avoid jumping to conclusions.

Unfortunately, your attempts at optimism failed.

You turn, rummaging through the neat pile of gear behind you. Your guns, bag, and holster are still where you left them. Only Phillip's things had vanished.

Warm tears sting your eyes as they stream down your cheeks. You fight back a guttural sob; you rise to your feet and scan the rooftop in disbelief. This can't be happening.

White-hot fear washes over you as you hurriedly gather your gear. A salty tear breaches your cracked lips.

Sniffling, You loop the belt and holster back into the cargo pants. The tactical backpack seemed to weigh heavier on your shoulders than before.

You wipe the tears from your eyes in an attempt to clear your vision with a deep breath. You were determined to stay calm this time. At least Phillip had prepared me beforehand. You thought.

Your sweaty palms wrap around the barrel of the rifle, pulling it up to your chest. As you walked to the stairwell door, your steps were unstable. The toe of your boot dragging across the dry cement.

Remaining strong-willed in this situation was tough, but acting out of sheer panic was sure to get you killed. Being in the middle of the city was dangerous enough as is. There is no room for mistakes right now.

As your palm rests against the rusty door, you exhale another deep breath. The door opens with a creak. Eerie silence echoes throughout the damp stairwell. It was too dark to see.

Ghost's flashlight pressed against your thigh. You retrieve it from your pocket, and, with a click, the blue light provides a path for you along the concrete.

You crept down the stairs, trying not to hold your breath for too long. Without Phillip, safety had become non-existent.

Each flight of stairs seemed to be getting longer. You swallow back the flight response urging you to run. Staying calm and strategic was the top priority.

As you reached the last set of stairs, your boot caught on a step. You instinctively grasp the railing to keep from falling as the flashlight tumbles down the steps. Your heart races. The flashlight clinked down the cement and rolled forward. A blue beam casts a dim light on the wall below you.

Muffled groans and snarling come from the door beside you. The metal doors creaked open. A clammy hand reached out, and you peeled yourself from the railing running down the stairs. With a pause, you scoop up the flashlight at your feet and stumble through the last door of the stairwell.

The lobby of the building is lit up just enough to make out the silhouettes of the infected who crowded the room. They must've been drawn here by all the gunshots yesterday.

Adrenaline was the only thing carrying you mindlessly through the crowd. Infected flooded the hallway as you booked it towards the side door of the building.

When you reach the end of the hall, the door wouldn't budge. Using all your weight, you throw your body against the door, letting out a panicked cry as the infected grow closer.

Finally, you fall through the door to the pavement of the alleyway. The sudden change from complete darkness to bright sunlight blurred your vision. Your palms stung from the impact. You ignored the pain, bits of gravel pressed into your hands as you put your weight on them to lift yourself back to your feet.

A few unsteady steps forward brought you out of the alleyway. The street looked narrow between the rows of elevated buildings. Now, you're sandwiched between hordes.

A distant rumbling cut through the air coming in your direction. A truck comes barreling down the road, narrowly missing you.

You watch as one of the infected gets struck ahead of you. A loud crunch of bones fills your ears. The body lifelessly crumples beneath the tire, and a sickening feeling settles in your stomach.

The truck screeches to a halt. You stand frozen, still processing the event, the hollow thud of a body colliding with the hood echoing in your head.

Phillip stomps towards you a scowl etched on his face. He raises his pistol and fires two shots over your shoulder.

“GET IN!”

He screams at you. You didn’t need to be told twice.

You climb into the passenger seat, refocusing your thoughts on the present. Phillip slowly backsteps to the truck, clearing a path to the driver's door.

His pistol emits a dull click as he attempts to pull the trigger again with an empty clip. He yanks open the door to the truck and climbs in.

He wastes no time shifting into drive and setting his foot down heavily on the gas pedal.

You couldn't help but glance at the side-view mirror, watching the horde overtake the street.

“WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?!”

Phillip's fury is palpable. You hardly register his words, his voice sounding distant

"Y/N!"

He snaps again, trying to get your attention. You turn your head in his direction but, your gaze is elsewhere.

"What the hell happened?!"

Phillip repeats. This time quieter than before. His voice remains stern and laced with anger.

“Y-you left me.”

You reply calmly. Your nerves shot from the near-death experience. As the adrenaline drained from your system, fatigue settled over your mind.

“I was coming back to get you! I went to get us a vehicle.”

His anger started to shift into worry. He could see how it may have seemed that way from your perspective.

“You could have woken me up or left a note?!”

The reply harbored more bitterness than intended. He sighs.

“You’re right… I’m sorry.”

A silence hangs in the air for a moment.

“I thought you abandoned me.”

Phillip takes in your hurt tone.

“No. Y/n, I would never do that.”

His voice is genuine and full of empathy. The tense silence hung between you. You felt a bit silly looking back on your reaction, but how were you supposed to know?

"Where are we going?"

Your question cut through the silence, desperate for a change of subject. You were in no mood to argue anymore.

"Well,"

Phillip starts,

"As they say... the world is our oyster."

"That's a stupid saying."

You retort. Your voice is low and full of irritation. He chuckles.

"Maybe so. But The world has ended, there's no goal or destination. Just survival."

Although you knew Phillip was right, you'd never took time to let the thought soak in. Part of you never planned to.

There is a long, uncomfortable pause before Philip speaks again.

"What was the plan after getting past the city?"

He asks.

"I'm not exactly sure... I just thought it would be safer. I guess... In the rural areas."

You had no clue what Ghost had planned, after making it past the city. You assumed he had somewhere safe in mind.

Phillip shrugged as if he didn't fully agree with that statement but couldn't argue against it either.

"What do we do then?"

You ask, hoping he will have a better answer. Truthfully, you didn't want to believe that this was it. Life as you knew it was gone and there was nothing more to work towards.

Phillip keeps his eyes on the road ahead. Judging by the furrow in his brow, and the way his lips remained pressed into a line, you knew you wouldn't like what he said next.

"We survive."

PART 5 >>

Tag list

@yourfavbabigirl @keiraslayz @dcnocap207 @dustycrusty09 @ihavetwoholesforareason @jupiternighties

#cod au #zombie apocalypse au #cw: gore #graves x reader #graves x female reader #ghost x female reader #mw2 fanfic #phillip graves #cod x reader #cod fanfic #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod mw3 #alkaline writes #☑️mstlst #one more chapter until Ghost is back!

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oepionie · 2 years ago

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KNIGHT IN SHINING ARMOR & THE UNWILLING DAMSEL IN DISTRESS. silver vanrouge

"And you don’t have to say anything now, of course, I just thought I owed you an explanation as to why i acted the way i did…”

Synopsis: Dragged into another one of Azul's contracts, you're forced to go on a date with some doe-eyed prince named Phillip and it seems that Silver has offered to serve as your bodyguard.

Character/s: Silver Vanrouge x GN! Reader

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Reader wears Heels&Dress, Silver cries, Bodyguard! Silver, Prince Phillip, Hidden feelings, Confessions, Im just thirsting for Silver here tbh

Word Count: 1k+ | 🎸Event Masterlist

Nervously taking a sip of your drink, you smoothed out the wrinkles on your dress and attempted to act normal. Well, as normal as someone in your situation could be. After getting dragged into a contract by the one and only Azul Ashengrotto, you were made to meet up with a client of his.

The octopus needed valuable information from him and told you to "use your charms" on the boy.

Whatever that means...

Sighing, you glance over at the shadowy figure sitting a few tables away from you.

Azul was suprisingly generous enough to grant you some protection. Protection which came in the form of a bodyguard named Silver Vanrouge.

Now, he was hardly the worst person in the campus but after your argument with him a few days back, things were still a bit...tense.

Obscured by the curtain drapes and dimmed lights of the lounge, you could barely make out Silver's sharp auroral gaze piercing through you. In all honesty, you were taken aback by just how well-hidden he was. For someone with his stature, he sure was remarkably stealthy.

Silver was casually leaning back against the plush couch, legs spread with his leather-clad hands clasped between his thighs. Instead of his usual outfit, he was dressed in a silky light green button-down shirt.

His legs donned black high-waisted slacks which was held up by a leather belt. Azul had given him the outfit to serve as a "uniform" of sorts. In addition to that, he carried his magic pen and sword, both of which were sheathed at his left hip.

Before you could continue ogling at your "bodyguard", a hand waves itself over your face. Blinking, you look up to see a bright-eyed brunette beaming down on you. The boy was slim but fairly built. He had on a grayish-tan vest over a black turtleneck shirt, dark brown pants, and black boots. Most notable was the red cape draped onto his shoulder, the vibrant crimson an odd contrast to his otherwise muted outfit.

"Hello there, are you the prefect?" The stranger smiled at you, revealing two dimples on the sides of his cheek. Stammering, you hastily scrambled to your feet.

"A-Ah, yes! That w-would be me. I'm assuming you're Philip?" A wobbly smile spread across your face as you held your hand out for him to shake. The boy chuckled and took your hand in his, swiftly pressing a kiss against your knuckles. "Yeah, I'm Philip. Well...Prince Philip."

"P-Prince?!" You squawked, eyes wide open. Just who did Azul set you up with?

"Ah, it's no big deal. I'm not too big on any of that royal stuff." The young prince winked, throwing an arm over your shoulders and pulling you close.

"Now, shall we carry on with our date?"

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Great Sevens. When was this going to end?

While initially charming, you soon found out that your date had no respect for your boundaries whatsoever. Prince Philip was extremely touchy. If him being pressed up snug against your side at this very moment wasn't enough proof of that.

"You know, I think I've actually met you before." Philip mused, tapping his fingers against your waist. "In a dream that is. Ah, which reminds me! Do you dance?"

"I trip over my feet all the time. So no, I don't." You chuckled awkwardly, twiddling with your thumbs. Philip snorted and stood, pulling you up with him. "Oh, but you must try it! Come, let's-"

"Philip, I'd really rather not." You frowned and tried to pull his hands off of you, but the prince refused to budge. His grip tightened and you whimpered. "Aw, it's just one little dance-"

"I believe they said no." Before Phillip could continue, Silver appeared and swiftly yanked the boy's hands off of you.

He guided you behind him, shielding you from the young prince with his body. "I think you've overstayed your visit. Come, I’ll guide you to the exit."

You watched helplessly as your bodyguard dragged the prince out of the lounge, ignoring each and everyone of Philip's protests.

Well...there goes your date.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"I can't believe you did that, Silver." You grumbled.

You sat on the pavement, pulling your tall heels off and massaging your feet. The back of your ankle swelled red, evidence of all the hours you spent in this fancy get-up. Hours of hard work wasted and ruined in a single minute. "You didn't have to kick him out! I nearly got him to spill the secret!"

"He clearly couldn't understand what a simple 'no' meant." Silver murmured. The look he sends you is one of concern, and probably disappointment, as he strides to your hunched over form.

Silver placed his hand onto your back, but you pushed him away, far too disheartened to accept his aid. His eyes flashed hurt for a brief moment before he regained his composure, brows pinching together. "I was trying to help."

"Well, you weren't! I'm not some damsel in distress." You scoffed, slipping your heels back on. "I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"If that's the case then why didn't you tell him to stop?" He spoke, voice cracking. When you didn't respond, Silver stared at you with a wounded look in his eyes. "Do you like him?"

"Enough, Silver!" The back of your head throbbed and your eyes burned, the frustration from earlier finally sinking in. Throughout the entire night, you were left to deal with both Philip's advances and Silver's icy demeanor. It wasn't surprising to say that you were at your wit's end.

You rose from the pavement, dusting your dress off before walking in the direction of your dorm. Silver blinks at you and swallows painfully as something shifts in his features. "Where are you going?"

"The night's over. You don't have to play bodyguard anymore. I'm leaving."

"Don't." You snapped your head around, fully prepared to start arguing once more, only to end up clamping your mouth shut when you saw his eyes glistening with tears. Silver ran a hand down his face, fingers roughly rubbing at his eyelids. "…. I'm sorry. Please don't."

"Silver...I got frustrated. I-I didn't mean..." you whispered, cupping his cheeks in a delicate touch - afraid that he might crack were you harsher with him.

"You don’t have to say anything...I-I just think I owe you an explanation as to why I acted the way I did." His hands cupped atop yours, squeezing tight.

"I know I do get overprotective at times, but I mean no harm. I just..." Silver trails off as he hesitated, which coaxed you to look up and meet his gaze.

"....I love you." He gently took you in his arms and wrapped you in a tight embrace, sighing deeply as he felt the welcome weight of your body against his. "I really love you."

Likes and Reblogs are greatly appreciated and really motivating on my end!

Taglist: @keedas @spadecentral @crypticbibliophile @pastellepastary @cassidycampfire @cocomollo @poisoniousheart @anonima-2 @kawaiipotatoghost

↳ want to be added?

#my silver thirst is showing #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland fluff #twisted wonderland fanfic #twisted wonderland x reader #silver vanrouge x reader #silver vanrouge #twst silver #twisted wonderland silver vanrouge #twisted wonderland prince phillip #twst prince phillip

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myxr0n · 1 year ago

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𝚂𝙾𝙼𝙴𝙾𝙽𝙴'𝚂 𝙹𝙴𝙰𝙻𝙾𝚄𝚂...

Vanessa Shelly x F!reader

Warnings: Slight NSFW, suggestive themes, that's about it.

Summary: Vanessa accidentally got you fired from your day job, you were upset and decided to ignore her all night while she patrolled. After picking you up from Freddy's, Vanessa notices you'd made a closer bond with Mike, and decides to step up her game so you pay her more attention.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏✪✭✪﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

The car ride home was silent, Besides the sound of you and Vanessa's breathing. The ride mainly consisted of Vanessa looking between you and the road, her eyes narrowing as she took a brief look at your phone.

"Who are you texting.."

Vanessa muttered coldly, her hands gripping the wheel tightly as she spoke; a look of disappointment formed on her face as she continued driving.

"Nobody important, Nessa."

You snapped back at her, making her flinch slightly at the remark. Out of the two of you, Vanessa was always the more dominant and assertive one, and it was pretty obvious when you two were together. However.. something about tonight was... Different. Vanessa gave you one final glare before tightening her grip on the steering wheel, her body trembling with anger and guilt.

"Well... I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier.. I realize now, how important that job was to you.."

Vanessa mumbled quietly, trying to form a conversation despite her discomfort with the situation. You didn't respond, giving her a cold glare before returning to your phone and texting Mike.

The ride home was painfully awkward, the ten minutes feeling like a decade to Vanessa. As you two got home, Vanessa quickly opened her car door, unbuckled her seat belt, and climbed out of the driver's seat, leaving you alone in the car as she slammed her door shut. This behavior was nothing like Vanessa's; usually, she helped you out of the vehicle and helped you get inside. She always says it's her "favorite part of the night-" Considering she always got to lift you into her arms and cuddle you once you were inside.

"Nessa?"

You muttered her nickname softly, sighing as you heard the familiar sound of silence filling the car while Vanessa, on the other hand, was already unlocking the door and stepping inside the apartment, cracking the door for you as she took off her shoes. You followed her inside a couple of minutes later, an irritated look on your face as you followed her to your shared room.

You looked around for Vanessa, rolling your eyes as you realized she was in the shower. As the shower ran, you felt a ringing in your ears, laying back on your bed as you tried to figure out what was so off with Vanessa's demeanor.

"What went wrong tonight?.. Was I too harsh on her?.. I know it was an accident... Maybe I'm just not treating it like it was..."

You thought to yourself, the guilt hitting you like a freight train before you snapped back to reality, hearing the bathroom door swing open. Vanessa stepped out, dressed in a blue lingerie set. The 'set' was simple, including a lacey thong and bra, the same color as her work uniform, which was topped off with small bows along the straps, and her black necktie. As Vanessa stepped closer, you could feel a tightness in your lungs, making you gasp for air as you snapped out of your lustful shock.

"I..-"

Vanessa stopped you mid-sentence, covering your mouth briefly with her palm, before sitting on the bed beside you, as she almost completely disregarded your presence. You let out a needy whimper at the sight of her, swallowing hard as you took in her beauty and presence, studying her body. Her silky blonde hair, usually in a neat and straight ponytail, was now thrown in a messy, low bun at the back of her head, with small strands of her bangs hanging out at the sides of her face. You inhaled slowly, the smell of her vanilla lotion hitting your nostrils, which made your mind blurry, throwing off your train of thought as your face began to flush with pink.

After an awkward 15 minutes of your staring while she read, she cleared her throat, speaking in a low, shaky tone as she tried to regain her assertiveness.

"Look... I know I upset you earlier, but you're replacing me with Mike now?.."

She whispered, tentatively looking up from the book she had picked up off her nightstand. She had this unreadable face on... it was like she was upset, jealous, and sad at the same time. Vanessa was always assertive and demanding, but you could see the tears slowly filling her eyes, which made your heart ache the slightest bit. You knew she was hurting with how quickly she let her guard down, and it broke you when you realized she was doing all this for you to notice her.*

"Vanessa.. Baby, are you.. are you jealous?"

"..No."

"..."

"Okay... Maybe."

As you heard those words, you shifted into a sitting position, your back against the cushions as you grabbed her waist. In one swift motion, you pulled her on top of you, holding her thighs possessively and pulling them apart to pull her legs to your sides.

"I'm sorry, V.. Please don't cry. I didn't mean to make you feel so jealous. I forgave you hours ago.."

You mumbled; your voice was faintly strained, but every word was sincere. That was all Vanessa needed from you. A small, weak smile formed on Vanessa's face, making you blush faintly as you wiped her remaining tears, and took the time to caress her cheek.

"I... I forgive you.. But..I'm still not fully convinced you still love me.."

She spoke softly, her voice pure and shaky. As innocent as this moment seemed for you both, the heat forming between your legs said otherwise.

"Want me to remind you how much I love you then..?"

You whispered in her ear, giving in to your lustful thoughts. There was a brief pause before Vanessa whispered back in a soft and sultry tone.

"..."

"Yes.. Please, Baby.."

(Link to the inspo for Vanessa's lingerie ♡)

⇣

https://freefromlabel.com/products/blue-lace-bow-elastic-bra-and-panty-set?variant=40375951917138

#fnaf vanessa #vanessa shelly #vanessa afton #fnaf movie #fnaf #female x female #vanessa x reader #female x reader #i dont fucking know

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vodika-vibes · 7 months ago

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Hello friend! I have a request if you have the time, and it doesn't have to be very long.. here's the idea: During the early days of the clone wars Anakin is teamed up with a Jedi that wars blue robes, and Rex is immediately intrigued, cuz you know, 501s blue. His intrigue grows into admiration and then infatuation. He's crushing real hard. And this Jedi feels the same way.

So yeah maybe the kiss maybe they don't, whatever you like (it'd be great if the kiss 👀).

Again, only if you have time. Thanks 💙

Alright There, Captain?

Summary: Rex falls in love.

Pairing: Captain Rex x F!Jedi Reader

Word Count: 946

Warnings: Mentions of Fives' death

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Hihi! I hope this is close to what you wanted. I was trying to make it seem like snapshots into Rex's life as he slowly falls in love, but I'm not sure I pulled it off. Happy reading!

So far as Rex is aware, Jedi only wear black, dark brown, light brown, or white. Of course, his only evidence for this is General Skywalker and General Kenobi, but it seems to hold true. Based on some of the conversations he’s had with brothers in other battalions, at least.

As far as Rex is concerned, it might as well be a rule. Jedi wear muted colors.

And Rex genuinely believes that…right up until the day a young woman arrives on the Resolute in her small ship. She’s obviously a jedi, based on the lightsaber hanging on her hip and based on how enthusiastically General Skywalker greets her, but she doesn’t look like any jedi he’s met before.

For one, the only part of her outfit that could be considered “robe like” is the cloth belt around her waist. For another, her belt is the same shade of blue as his armor.

“Ah, Rex! There you are.” General Skywalker calls him over with a bright smile, and then he turns to the woman, “This is my Captain, he’ll show you someplace where you can change. Are you sure you don’t need to go to medical?”

“I’m fine, Anakin.” She says with a laugh, “You worry overly much.” And then she turns her gaze to Rex, “Alright there, Captain?”

“Nice to meet you, ma’am.” He replies politely.

She smiles kindly, “I just need someplace private to change back into my robes before I give my mission brief.”

“Of course, right this way.”

When she came out of the private fresher, dressed in blue and white robes, Rex couldn’t help his interest. She’s unlike any other jedi that he’s ever met.

But he’s still a clone, and they are still a galaxy at war. So, while he makes a mental note of her name, he figures that this will be the last time he sees her.

So far as he’s concerned, they’re just two ships passing in the night. A shame, but such is his fate.

The next time he sees her is several months later, when she rescues him and some of his brothers from a surprise attack.

She appears from nowhere, emerging from the surrounding forest to take out the droids as though she had been summoned. And, in spite of all of the physical activity, and in spite of the danger, she looks calm and composed.

Her hair is neat, as are her robes, and she doesn’t move more than she has to.

Rex can’t help but compare her to General Skywalker, and with some shame, he admits that his General is lacking when compared to her. Anakin would never be so calm and composed in a situation like this.

She commands the battlefield like she’s a goddess of war…and Rex finds himself smitten with her.

Once the fighting is over, Rex expects her to leave, to return to her mission, like what Anakin would do. But she surprises him, by taking the time to make sure that the men are okay, helping them to their feet, and patching up the ones who needed it.

And then she’s at his side, a warm smile on her pretty face as she kneels next to him, “Alright there, Captain?”

“Yes ma’am, just a little dinged.” Rex replies as she helps him sit up, “Thanks for helping.”

“You don’t have to thank me for caring, Rex.” She looks around, “Where’s your General?”

Rex’s face falls, “I…don’t know.”

Her face remains calm, “Not here then. That’s alright, do you mind if I take charge until he arrives?”

“I’d appreciate that General,” Rex says, as he stares at her face.

She favors him with the warmest smile, and Rex feels his heart skip a beat, “Rest now, General.” She says as she presses her hand against his shoulder, “I’ll take care of everything else.”

And, as she walks away, Rex can’t help but wonder if this is what love feels like.

The night after Fives dies, Rex is in a bar. He’s not drunk, but he doesn’t want to see his brothers. He doesn’t want to see anyone. Not Anakin. Not Obi-Wan. Not any of his brothers from the 501st.

For one night, he just wants to stop being him.

He lifts his head when a pair of delicate looking hands, with blue nails, appears in his line of sight. He follows the deceptively frail looking arms up to a familiar face.

Her smile is sad, “Alright there, Captain?”

He releases a shuddering breath, “No. Not really.”

She nods and slides into the booth next to him, her body soft and warm when pressed against his side, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I just…I want to stop being me, just for one night.” Rex admits as he looks at her.

Her hands come up and cup his face, “I wish I could take your pain from you.” She whispers.

Rex stares at her, at her pretty face, at her stunning eyes, at the way she still wears his colors—

“I’ve always loved how you wear my colors,” Rex admits as he lightly touches the blue part of her robe. “You look good in them.”

Her smile is warm, “Blue has always been my favorite color.”

“It suits you.” Rex murmurs, his hands come up to cradle her face, “Can I kiss you?”

Her smile widens slightly, “I’d like that a lot.” She whispers.

It’s all she needs to say, as Rex leans in and presses his lips against hers. She’s warm and soft and everything he’s ever fantasized about and more. And, for the first time in a long time, Rex thinks that maybe everything will be alright.

#star wars #tcw #captain rex x reader #rex x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

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