#i will not lie though: might still be a while. this fic has at least two maybe three more chapters
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I just wanted to say I am so here for that lesbian bokris idea you have omg
ahahahaha and it seems like youre not the only one!! 😌😌
im very excited to write it as well 🫶🏻🫶🏻
#i will not lie though: might still be a while. this fic has at least two maybe three more chapters#and then theres the jance epilogues and bokris extra chapters i wanna get out before i write smthn new i think?#so thats still probably two months of holidate + holidate specials#and my summer is like. extremely busy. as in ill probably have one day off per week if even that fjkfkd#so ill keep holidate at once per week but after that the updates will take a little longer#<- this is me rambling but also like. in case anyone genuinely cares 🫶🏻#inbox#anonymous
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maid for you | min yoongi
title: maid for you
pairing: painter/vamp!yoongi x maid/vamp!(f)reader
genre/rating: smut, supernatural, 18+
summary: you can’t deny it; you’re f*cked.
wc: 1.6k
warnings: mentions bl**d and m*rder, bl**d consumption, pet names, f*ngering, squ*rting, teasing, begging, swearing, errors maybe because i didn't look over this, let me know if i missed something
release date: march 10th, 2024; 12:09am est
note: so i was watching death’s game and got a little inspired lol. i’ve been trying to dabble in writing vampire fics so this might be a little cringe. anyway happy birthday to the loml. i’m still writing like 3 other fics for him this month, but until then… you all enjoy. divider by cafekitune.
my masterlist | join my taglist | read on ao3 | inbox
“Son of a bitch.”
You nearly slip and fall right on your ass when you enter the studio. Once again, he’s brought home some innocent sack of flesh and carved them into a masterpiece.
The fear still lingers in the scent of the scarlet liquid smeared across the floor. You push your own impulses to the back of your mind as you begin to clean up Yoongi’s mess like the “loyal” servant you are.
Not like you have a choice; it’s either this—or death.
Unlike the other creatures who have survived for eons in this world, your thirst for human blood has never been fulfilled. Though it calls your name as you drag the heavy mop across the porcelain tile, you can’t imagine indulging when you’re surrounded by humans everyday outside of this place.
You still have to live the life of someone who isn’t a freak. You aren’t some legacy put here to extend bloodlines. You’re just the product of a drunken night between strangers whose life should have ended in your twenties.
You’re just the one who didn’t die.
Every second you spend in this room makes you want to leave and never come back, but you know it is impossible. You made a deal with the devil for your life; there is no backing out.
After an hour or so, the room is spotless again.
As you’re cleaning the last section of the floor, you notice some of Yoongi’s artwork on the wall. Your face contorts into a grimace, knowing that there are people out there purchasing these. Somebody’s family member’s bodily fluids is splashed onto a canvas and is hanging on display in some billionaire’s home. It makes you angry knowing that it should have been you.
“Fucking asshole… I’m not cleaning this shit up anymore—Oh!”
You bump into something hard while you’re walking backwards. Thinking you’ve hit a wall, you don’t expect to see anyone when you turn around.
“Oh, you aren’t?”
Yoongi just stands there, watching you scramble for words.
“I-I didn’t know you were here. I…That was—”
“Save it,” he interrupts.
Once you are silenced, you lower your head. You feel a bit of shame burning in your cheeks, but it’s the least of your worries if he heard everything you’ve been saying while you thought you were alone.
“How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to snap your neck if I felt like it.”
Shit. What the hell were you thinking?
“Sorry, I didn’t mean any of that.”
“Don’t lie,” he snaps.
He takes a step forward, and you take one back. You try to keep a safe distance between you as if you have a chance to escape. He’d catch you before you could leave the room.
“You’re an ungrateful little bitch, you know that?”
Unfortunately, you don’t know the room as well as you thought you did because your lower back hits a table, leaving you with nowhere else to go.
“I was just venting. Tell me you aren’t that old!”
He approaches you with his arms folded, leaving only a few inches to spare.
“Baby, you won’t live to see this age,” he boasts. “You don’t even feed yourself properly.”
“Who cares?”
He dips his fingers in a tiny drop of blood next to his tools. You scold yourself for missing something in plain sight, but you have to admit that your mind has been a little fuzzy lately.
“I used to care… But since you don't, why should I?”
You turn away when he tries to touch you with his crimson painted fingertip. The smell makes your nostrils flare, but you continue to fight the temptation. When you don’t accept his bloody digit, he places it on his tongue and savors the salty liquid coating his skin.
“Fuck you.”
“Point proven,” he concludes.
You still won’t look at him, but that doesn’t stop Yoongi from staring directly at you, observing reactions. “If you hate it so bad, why don’t you just end it?”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Why not?”
The couple of inches that stood between you are now gone as he steps closer. He’s so close that you’re afraid he’ll hear your thoughts if you aren’t careful.
“What are you afraid of?... Going to hell?”
You scoff. “This is hell.”
Suddenly, he grabs your face, forcing you to look into his dark orbs. You remember them being just as hypnotizing when you met him; if only you’d known them what you know now. You would have ran in the opposite direction.
“But you love it here. Don’t you?”
You aren’t sure if your body craves his attention, or if you’re just desperate to feel something—anything to feel the emptiness inside of you.
“I do,” you utter. “Why can’t I hate you?”
Yoongi leans in, his soft lips gently grazing yours to see if you’ll flinch. You don’t move an inch, and his smirk begins to spread across his face.
“Because you want me just as bad as I want you.”
You’re still within his grasp, but too drunk with what seems like lust to pull away. You don’t want to. Every part of you wants to be his; only he understands the type of hunger you’re experiencing.
He’s the only one who’s capable of satisfying your appetite.
“All you have to do is admit it.”
His cold touch makes you weak in your knees. You have to grip his biceps when you suddenly lose your balance, and with quickness he releases his hold and wraps an arm around your waist.
“I’m waiting,” he reminds you, and you don’t hesitate to give him your response.
“Please, just touch me.”
When you kiss him, he’s the one who melts in your arms. You hold him tightly as both of you stand there kissing and tugging at each other’s clothes. Your lips smack as they crash together, causing a sound that resonates through the room.
You feel Yoongi’s cold hand move underneath your dress, slowly making its way to your underwear. A moan escapes your swollen lips when he finds your center, exposing your eagerness to feel him inside of you.
“Damn,” he whispers, discovering that you’re already dripping.
His fingers tease your entrance, making you squirm with need. You beg him for more, and he doesn’t deny you.
“Please.”
“I got you,” he assures.
Your body shudders as two of his digits slip into your pussy. You can barely hold yourself because the intrusion is so overwhelming.
“Fuck, Yoongi.”
“Good?”
“Mhm.”
His thumb caresses your throbbing clit, causing more of your wetness to drip down your thighs. Your hips move in a circular motion, silently begging Yoongi for more.
It is then that he slowly begins to fuck you with his fingers, burying them up to the knuckles in your heat. You grip the table as he speeds up, knowing it won’t take much to get you off.
Yoongi attacks your neck with his fangs; biting gently into your flesh and moaning from the taste of you.
“Feels so good,” you pant into his ear.
He curves his fingers while they’re deep inside your core, and targets your most sensitive areas. The pads of his digits rub against the rough patch of your walls with precision, and within seconds your juices are gushing everywhere.
“Shit, I’m going to cum…”
You cry out in pleasure, holding onto Yoongi with all your might as your body trembles and shakes.
Yoongi keeps going, admiring the waterfall flowing from underneath your dress. Your eyes roll back, drool forming at the corners of your lips as you babble and whine from sensitivity.
“Look who’s making a mess now,” Yoongi teases.
You can’t even feel embarrassed because your body is still coming down from its peak. You’re weak, too spent to defend yourself. You aren’t even sure what you’d say. What could you say?
There’s a puddle where you stand.
When Yoongi finally removes his fingers, he leaves you empty and still wanting more. Your head rests on his chest as you regain your strength.
“I didn’t kill you, did I?”
You laugh. “No.”
After the high wears off, you’re left drowning in your thoughts. They’re all over the place, but you’re certain about one thing. You’re far from satisfied, but you aren’t sure what it is that you want.
“I guess you’re leaving now,” Yoongi says, breaking the silence.
You clear your throat, thinking before you speak so your answer isn’t driven by lust. You know once you step into this world, there’s no going back. The only question on your mind is, what’s really waiting for you outside of here?
“I don’t have to.”
“Hm, is that right?”
Yoongi pulls away so he can look into your restless eyes. He can probably see the internal war going on inside of you from where he stands. You’re long past what’s right and what’s wrong. It makes no sense to keep denying the truth when it’s right in your face.
“This is driving me crazy.”
“Oh, really?” he quizzes. “...Or maybe you can’t get enough of me now?”
“A little bit of both, honestly.”
“I just don’t want you to think you don’t have any options.”
You nod. “You think I’m afraid of you?”
“Are you?”
“A little, but I’m still curious,” you answer truthfully. “What’s the worst that can happen? You turn me into a painting?”
“I might.”
You smirk. “That’s hot.”
“You haven’t seen anything yet, sweetheart. We should go for a ride.”
“I’d like that.”
The look he gives you could undress a nun. Hell, you struggle to keep your panties on after he winks. You smile as he kisses your forehead and your cheek before he whispers in your ear.
“Good. Now clean up my fucking floor, and meet me downstairs.”
#yoongi x reader#yoongi fanfic#yoongi smut#bts x reader#bts fanfic#bts smut#bts fics#yoongi fics#yoongi imagines#bts imagines#min yoongi smut#min yoongi fanfic#aaagustd.fics
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Atsv characters taking care of s/o in pain
Fun fact I deal with physical pain a lot bcuz my health is shit. I have been in so much pain I couldn’t even sleep for the last 2 days. Was especially bad today so here’s smth kinda self indulgent.
(Hc portion)
Gwen is insistent on having miguel or jessica check you out to see if they could possibly ease your pain. Miguel is from the future technically, there has to be something. She hates the idea of you being in so much pain you can’t even lie down comfortably, you can’t sit still, you can’t sleep, or even worse if you start crying? She feels awful. She has heating packs to help you ease your pain if it helps, and she keeps you on a strict schedule with taking medication so that your pain is as limited as possible. She does everything she can for you, especially given the lack of knowledge she has on this typa thing.
(Small fic portion)
“I hate seeing you like this” she sighs, kissing you on the forehead, pressing the big heating pack to your stomach. There is instant relief, even if that relief is short lived and your once again reminded of your pain, she still feels you relax. Even if only slightly. “I’m sorry I can’t do more for you.” she frowns, feeling guilt.
“Nonsense” you say, giving her a weak smile, putting a hand on her cheek. She puts her hand on yours, holding it in place on her cheek. “You being here is enough for me. You did everything you could. This is just… how it is, yknow?”
She sighs, taking your hand off her cheek so she can kiss your knuckles. “But it shouldn’t be. You shouldn’t have to deal with this. I wish I could just take this pain away from you.” she presses her forehead against yours, and for a moment, even if it was brief, you feel peace.
(Hc portion)
Miles is so unsure how he can help you but damn if he isn’t determined as fuck to help ease your pain even if only slightly. He is extremely sympathetic towards you. He genuinely cannot imagine how it must be to constantly go through pain to the point you can’t even get proper rest. He will try to get you to relax your muscles, which can be difficult granted the pain you’re in, but he knows if he’s able to succeed with that you can at least get some sleep. Back massages or even massaging the places that hurt, he’s all on it. Always has medicine with him, might even ask his mom to watch over you for him while he’s gone doing Spiderman stuff, even if just to check on you.
(Short fic portion)
“You didn’t have to do this miles,” you say, chugging down your third dose of ibuprofen today. “Thank you though.” you say, before lying back down.
“Of course I had to do this for you babe!” he says with a roll of his eyes, annoyed you’d even suggest he didn’t have to help you out. “If I can’t be here for you in your time of need, what’s the point in being your boyfriend, your best friend for that matter.” he continues to speak as he lies down next to you. “Roll over.” he commands, which you aren’t quite used to him doing. He’s been acting rather motherly towards you lately, but you can’t exactly blame him with the state you’ve been in.
You follow his orders and do so, and he begins to message your back, and you audibly sigh without meaning to. He laughs as a result, making you laugh too. “Shut up.” you roll your eyes, and he can’t help but laugh even more. “Hey I’m glad you’re just finally relaxing.” he says before kissing the back of your neck.
Somehow you’re boyfriend always knows how to make your agonizing pain a bit more bearable.
(Hc portion)
My man hobie somehow manages to get his hands on morphine. You will not be dealing with this pain on his watch, he will find a way. High key hates the fact you’re going through this and does everything he can to ease it or prevent it. Might talk to you about random shit, about his day or about other people or crazy shit that happened, anything as a means to distract you. Though this can prove to be difficult, hobie has a relaxing voice and he’s able to soothe you no matter how bad your pain is. Might sing ya to sleep with his lovely voice.
(Small fic portion)
Your quiet as you listen to hobie hum. While his music tastes consisted of punk (obviously) he was a bit of a metal head as well, and it’s not that you didn’t like that genre of music but it was far from relaxing. So you had calmly asked hobie if he could please sing something that wasn’t so intense.
Soft shit was not his thing but if it eased your pain, who is he to complain?
He had his arms around you, your head on his chest and you felt it rumble as he quietly sang to you.
“Cariño, eres un amor”
“Something about you babe.”
“Something about you babe”
he finally finishes, and you smile for the first time today.
“Thank you, hobie.” you whisper, and he kisses the crown of your head. “Anytime hun”
(Hc portion)
Pavitr feels terrible omg bless this boy he does everything he can. Buys you a lot of fattening foods as tribute. He knows he shouldn’t make it a habit especially if you’re pain is like constant and happens a lot but he cannot help himself. His baby should not be in pain! Sometimes kisses the spots your in pain and likes to rub the spots in an attempt to soothe you and your pain. Buys a lot of medicine and pain relief creams. May try to distract you with watching movies and stuff, but also will straight up ask you if there’s any other way he can help you. Definitely makes you peppermint tea to help ease your pain.
(Small fic portion)
You drink the last of your tea, placing the empty cup on your end table and lay all the way back next to your boyfriend. He offers to put the cup in your sink and clean it, but you shake your head. “It’s fine I can do it tomorrow.” you say, before resting your cheek on his shoulder, “besides I want you here with me.” you admit, and he smiles at your little confession before wrapping is arms around you in an embrace. “Aww babe!” he says, before smooching you on the cheek with an annoyingly loud, “mwah!”
you laugh as he attempts to kiss you more all over your face, putting your hand on his face and pushing him in an attempt to get him to stop smothering you. “Baby cut it out!” you laugh, “why? I just wanna love youuuu!” he whines, and you giggle, “because I’m trying to watch the movie!”
Your boyfriend sighs before conceding. “Fine.” he says, and you finally turn back to watch the movie.
“Just kidding!” he says quickly, attacking your neck with little kisses this time, making you laugh even harder than before. “Oh babe Cmon!”
He’s just glad he succeeded in distracting you from your pain, for a little while.
#pavitr prabhakar x reader#pavitr x you#pavitr x y/n#pavitr x reader#atsv x reader#atsv x you#atsv x y/n#spiderverse x reader#hobie x y/n#hobie x you#hobie x reader#hobie brown x reader#gwen stacy x reader#spiderwoman x reader#spiderman x y/n#spiderman x reader#spidergwen x reader#gwen stacy x you#miles morales x you#miles morales x y/n#miles morales x reader
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hey love! im sorry your request box hasnt been what you were looking for but maybe this will work! can i request a ball with benedict bridgerton where feelings are only realized when one of them dances with someone else? i dont really mind if its reader or benedict but i just think it would be cute!! hope you’re doing well <3 <3
hello my lovely. you're the sweetest, thank you so much for such a gorgeous request. I've got a pretty similar fic where Benedict realises his feelings, so I was super excited to do the other way around, I hope you enjoy <3 <3 | 1.5k words, fem!reader
There is a woman in Benedict’s arms and it isn’t you and you think you might throw your lemonade at her. Accidentally, of course.
You don’t know her, and if the reasonable side of your brain was in charge, you’d probably think she looks quite lovely. Her hair is adorned in elaborate braids and her smile is demure but still a little goofy - she isn’t shrouded in the fake humility that she finds so many ladies of the ton carry around with them.
But still you find yourself fantasising about a large lemonade stain painting the front of her dress, the poor girl hurrying away in her shock and distress.
Away from Benedict. Who’s now laughing. At something the girl has said, no less. Why, you’d never seen him laugh at any lady of the ton who wasn’t either his sister or, once, Lady Danbury.
And yourself, of course, but you didn’t count.
At least, you didn’t think you counted. You didn’t think you wanted to count, content to while away the balls and the promenades by Benedict’s side, sometimes Eloise’s, whispering about so-and-so’s hat or whats-his-name’s hair. He’d never asked you to dance, although you’d never wanted him to before. Now that he was dancing with someone for the first time you could recall, however, you could feel that changing very swiftly.
”You know, looking vexed in the corner isn’t likely to win you many adoring suitors, Miss Y/L/N.”
Eloise always knows just when to get on your nerves and she’s grinning at you slyly when you turn to face her, finally breaking the spell that Benedict and his new dance partner had placed on you.
”Since when have you believed that was my endeavour, dear Eloise?”
”Since you’ve spent the entire night glaring at pretty young Miss Pennyforth. It’s making you look rather jealous, to the untrained eye.”
You turn away from her, fixing your eyes on her brother yet again. They’re not talking anymore, just staring at each other as he twirls her again and again. Maybe it was better when they spoke after all, because now your stomach is twisting into something that does indeed feel a lot like jealousy.
”Yes, well, you know better than to think I’m jealous. Though I do seem to be in a foul mood.”
Eloise nods exaggeratedly, a pretend-sympathetic pout on her lips.
”Yes, you poor thing. And it obviously has nothing to do with the brother of mine that you can’t take your eyes off.”
You pointedly look at her again but she just dissolves into giggles at the look on your face.
”If you have a point, Eloise, I suggest you make it.”
”Oh, no point at all. Only that the one ball where Benedict decides not to stand with you and ruin his prospects all night, you seem to be very dour indeed. With no correlation, of course.”
You glower at her as best you can. You have the irritable feeling crawling out of your stomach through your throat that you might be about to cry, and you refuse to do so here, or to allow Eloise to think it’s her fault if you do.
”You run along and find Penelope or I shall tell your mother there’s a gentleman asking after you.”
She gaped at you, quite genuinely.
”You wouldn’t,” she murmured, but then promptly hurried away when you fixed her with a look that told her you most certainly would. It was a lie, because you could never bring yourself to do that to your friend, but it was a ruse that allowed to slip away from the ballroom.
You cast one last glance over your shoulder at Benedict to see him kissing the back of Miss Penny-something’s hand and your eyes began to sting.
- - -
There was a little bench hidden away to the left of the grand entrance, just dark enough to not be spotted by those near the carriages. You managed to shed a few tears in private, silent silly things, and you wiped them away angrily.
It was only Benedict. Quiet, mischievous, generous Benedict. He was creative and caring and could come up with the most brilliant insults you’d ever heard. Obviously, he also had a beautiful face, but you’d never given it much thought. All the Bridgertons were beautiful, it felt like a requirement.
”Did Lord Tennesby try to talk to you again?”
You sighed deeply, closing your eyes with your head bowed. Of course he’d find you. If anyone was likely to be looking for a quiet spot for a moment’s reprieve, it was him.
You wiped at your face in vain before looking up at him with what you hoped was a convincing smile.
“I’d be halfway back home if that was the case. What are you doing out here?”
Why aren’t you with Pennyfuzzy? was the unspoken second question that you couldn’t quite bring yourself to ask, knowing how spiteful it would come out. You wished you had realised you might want more from Benedict in the comfort of your own home, where you could take a week to process those feelings and prepare for how to deal with them.
Instead, you’d just have to see what happened in this conversation and go from there. Sounded promising.
”I was going to ask you the same thing. Have you…been crying?”
”I think it’s the flowers,” you point over at the hyacinths in the nearby flowerbed, “They often get the best of me this time of year.”
”Daphne’s ball last year was filled with hyacinths and you didn’t so much as sniffle.”
You frowned at him.
“I probably sniffled.”
“You didn’t. I would have noticed. I would have offered you a handkerchief like the dashing young gentleman I am.”
It was enough to pull up your frown at the corners, which in turn propelled him to take a seat beside you on the bench. You busied yourself with a crease in your dress when you talked to him.
“Maybe you’re not as dashing as you think.”
“I’m incredibly dashing,” he argued, pointing his chin upwards in that silly, mighty way you always giggled at, “I swept Miss Pennyforth off her feet just moments ago.”
Like an ice cold bucket of water poured right over you. You almost shivered.
“Ah, Miss Pennyforth. Has someone finally captured your wayward attention, Mister Bridgerton?”
You looked up at him and tried not to sniffle or snuffle or anything else that might give you away. He was just looking puzzled.
“What? No, I meant I quite literally swept her off her feet. I got the steps wrong, according to Eloise, who helped me up once she had a hold of her laughter.”
You blinked at him.
“You fell?”
“Into quite the heap. Miss Pennyforth was a good sport about it all but she did end up with a rather unfortunate lemonade stain all down the front of her dress. I think she was a little embarrassed.”
He had the decency to look a little embarrassed himself. There you had been, ready to hurl the contents of your cup at the girl and Benedict had solved your predicament for you. A twinge of guilt tugged at you.
“I’m sorry I missed it,” you said honestly, face overtaken by a wry smirk since Benedict had not sat down singing her praises. Still you had to be sure, “She was looking a very good dancer before I left, I was afraid she might steal away my conversation partner.”
It ended up sounding far more transparent in your intentions than you’d hoped. But you held his eye contact defiantly when he grinned.
“I knew you missed me,” he said, smug, “I took one look at your face and I could see it plain as day. Really, you should have hidden it better.”
“I don’t enjoy these events and you know it, Benedict.”
Back to his first name and by the light in his eyes, he’d noticed the switch. He stood up and held out his arm for you.
“I know. I’m very grateful for it. Now come along, I’ve done my duty to my mother dancing with that girl and now I would like to do my duty to myself.”
You raised an eyebrow at him, not moving a muscle.
“I would like to make fun of the Featheringtons with my most cherished friend. Would you do me the honour?”
Something skipped inside your chest. Light and airy again, no longer weighed down and chained to something churning your stomach. His most cherished friend. Despite the evening’s revelations, that sounded heavenly.
“Is Eloise inside waiting for you then?” you can’t help but tease and he promptly puts his arm back by his side with a huff.
“You are intolerable. I’m going without you.”
“No - wait!” you laughed, following after him gleefully as he turned away from you and started walking. You managed to catch him on the stairs, threading your hand into the crook of his elbow with ease as you did.
The smile he sent you would take at least the next week to contemplate but you had time. You could be a very brilliant 'most cherished friend' for now.
(and you were far more cherished than you knew, of course, but he wasn't quite ready to tell you yet)
---
if you'd like to request something of your own, please see this post for characters I write for and two super brief guidelines. thank you for reading, sunflower <3
#benedict bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton#benedict bridgerton fanfiction#benedict bridgerton imagine#benedict x reader#bridgerton imagine#bridgerton fanfiction#bridgerton x reader
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Out Of The Blue | J. Fleming
pairings: jessie fleming x chelsea!reader
warnings: angst. swearing. crying. jessie’s transfer.
author’s note: inspired by @pixiesfz (fic: moving on) and @jflemings (fic: inevitable), I definitely recommend checking out their versions of the transfer!
masterlist
•••••••
January, 2024
''Yeah, that does sound great. I'll, uh, think about it and call you tomorrow… Okay, thanks… Bye bye.'' Jessie hung up the phone, her mind swirling with conflicting emotions. She sighed as she glanced back into the living room, her girlfriend sitting on their couch, blissfully unaware of anything.
Y/N wasn't entirely oblivious to Jessie's agent researching new clubs. It had been an ongoing discussion for a while now, fueled by Jessie's frustration with her dwindling game time at Chelsea.
Jessie quietly sat back down on the couch, not wanting to disturb her partner's tv-show.
''Everything okay?'' The Canadian turned her head, finding Y/N's eyes on her.
She nodded, biting her lips. ''Yeah, good… just my agent.'' She replied, trying to mask the turmoil in her voice.
''Any news?'' Y/N asked.
Bless her heart, Jessie thought. Despite not being the biggest fan of no longer getting to be teammates, Y/N had been very supportive of her girlfriend's search, believing her talent was indeed being wasted at Chelsea.
''Uh, nothing new,'' the midfielder lied, ''she's still in talks with a few clubs.''
''Oh, okay.'' The forward smiled, redirecting her focus back to the series she was watching.
Jessie didn't want to lie, she really didn't. However, telling the love of your life that you received a great offer from an American club and that you're really considering it, isn't an easy thing to do. The Canadian tried telling herself she should only tell Y/N when it's official, but Jessie knew from the moment her agent informed her of the option, that this was the right direction for her to go.
Her game time would improve compared to Chelsea's, and Janine and Christine would become her club teammates- she'd be stupid not to accept. But Portland was far from London, and Portland was far away from Y/N, her true home.
She promised herself she would tell her when the time was right, when the offer from the Thorns was official and her future was certain.
''I think she might stay until the end of the season, and then see what her options are.'' Y/N responded to Erin, after the Scot asked about Jessie's future.
Erin nodded. ''Nice, we can give her a proper sendoff then.''
''I'd say a party, but I don't think she would want to be the center of attention.'' Millie chimed in, thinking about how they could celebrate the younger woman's time at Chelsea.
''She'd look more like a tomato than she already does.'' Erin laughed, imagining her fellow midfielder's reaction.
''But it's good that we'll have at least this last season with her. The last match is gonna be emotional, Emma leaving, Jessie leaving…'' Millie said once the laughter had died down.
Y/N nodded her head. ''Yeah, but I just want to see her happy, you know? She loves the team, but, you know, with the game time and everything.''
Both women nodded, understanding Jessie's reasons for wanting to play somewhere else.
''Do you know where she's maybe going?'' Millie asked, curiously.
The younger woman shrugged her shoulders. ''She has plenty of options,'' Y/N grinned proudly, ''I think she's staying in Europe, though- Champions League and all.''
''She's gonna become a rival.'' Erin teased, rubbing her hands together in feigned mischief.
Y/N couldn't help but smile at the thought, but the underlying sadness of Jessie's departure lingered in the back of her mind.
''I also see her staying close by, at least near you.'' Millie lightly nudged her teammate's shoulder, sending a wink.
Y/N grinned back, but there was a hint of dejection in her eyes as she glanced at her friends "She's gotta do what's best for her," she said softly, her gaze drifting to the floor, "that's the most important thing.” She murmured.
As Y/N's thoughts lingered on Jessie's impending departure, she was abruptly pulled back to the present by the sound of someone's voice.
''Hey, you're ready to go?'' Jessie asked, her arrival at their table breaking the somber silence that had settled over them.
Amazing timing, Fleming, Y/N thought as her girlfriend approached their table.
Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the sight of Jessie, her dejected mood momentarily forgotten as she met her girlfriend's gaze. "Yeah." She replied, her eyes lighting up and a smile gracing her lips.
Her friends exchanged knowing glances, their amusement evident as they observed the subtle shift in Y/N's demeanor in the presence of her girlfriend.
Y/N got up from her chair. ''See you tomorrow, beautiful ladies.'' She bid her friends goodbye.
''Tomorrow, love birds.'' ''See ya!''
Jessie silently grabbed her partner's bag from the floor, and the pair walked together to the parking lot.
''They're so adorable it makes me sick.'' Erin muttered.
Millie laughed at her teammate. ''I think you might be allergic.''
As they drove out of the Chelsea training complex, a heavy silence enveloped the couple, weighing down the air in the car. Silences weren't necessarily unusual for them, but there was something about this one that had Y/N feeling confused and worried at the same time.
Glancing sideways at Jessie, Y/N noticed the furrow in her brow, the tension etched into the lines of her face. It was clear that something was bothering her, something she was struggling to articulate.
"Hey, Jess," the striker began hesitantly, breaking the uneasy silence that hung between them, "is everything okay?”
Jessie's grip tightened on the steering wheel, her gaze fixed on the road ahead as she wrestled with her thoughts. ''Yeah, just a bit tired.'' She responded, her voice strained.
Her answer did nothing to soothe her. There was a distance in the Canadian's eyes, a hesitancy in her voice that spoke volumes. "You can talk to me, you know." Y/N said, and she reached out to Jessie's hand.
For a moment, Jessie tensed up at the display of affection. Her breath was caught in her throat as she struggled with what to tell her partner. ''Can we talk about this when we're home? I don't want to have this conversation while I'm driving.'' She asked, momentarily making eye contact with her.
Y/N nodded, though the unease still gnawed at her. "Of course," she replied gently, withdrawing her hand but keeping her gaze fixed on Jessie, "we can talk about it when we get home."
The remainder of the drive passed in an uncomfortable conversation about their thoughts on the training that day.
As they finally pulled into their driveway, Y/N's heart pounded in her chest, the anticipation of the impending conversation sending a wave of anxiety crashing over her. She followed Jessie inside, the heavy silence hanging between them like a dense fog.
Once inside, Y/N took a seat on the couch. Her eyes fixed on the midfielder like a hawk as Jessie paced through the room.
Taking a a few deep breaths to ease herself, Jessie finally broke the silence that had enveloped them. "I... I received an offer." She confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.
Y/N perked up at the revelation. ''An offer?'' She repeated. ''That's great, no?'' Her voice tinged with uncertainty.
But as she watched her girlfriend unconsciously shake her head, she knew there was more to the story than Jessie was letting on.
The Canadian hesitated, her gaze shifting to the floor as she struggled to find the right words. "From the Portland Thorns," she finally admitted, her voice barely audible, "they want me to play for them.”
Y/N's heart sank at the news, a knot forming in the pit of her stomach. ''Portland?'' She muttered. ''In the U.S.?''
Jessie silently nodded. ''Yeah, the NWSL.'' She confirmed.
Her heart sank even further at the confirmation, the reality of the situation settling in like a heavy weight on her chest. ''Wow… that's, uh, that's amazing- with Janine and Christine, that's really nice, babe.'' She tried to muster a smile, but it felt hollow on her lips.
Despite her attempt to be supportive, the weight of Jessie's decision bore down on Y/N like a heavy burden. The thought of being separated by thousands of miles was something out of a nightmare.
But as she looked at Jessie, her heart ached at the thought of holding her back from pursuing her dreams. She knew that she had to be strong, to support her partner no matter what path she chose.
''Thank you.'' Jessie was unsure of how to proceed, it was clear that her girlfriend wasn't expecting a transfer to the other side of the world. "I... I know this isn't easy," she continued, her voice wavering slightly. "But I have to do what's best for my career.”
Y/N reached out, gently squeezing Jessie's hand. "I know," she replied softly, ''and this is gonna be really good for you.''
''So… you're not upset?''
She shook her head, a forced smile tugging at the corners of her lips. ''Of course not. I know you're going to do amazing there, and I'm happy that they are seeing your talent. It's a great club, Jess. And if it means you'll be happier... then I'm all for it.”
Tears pricked at the corners of Jessie's eyes as she pulled Y/N into a tight embrace. "I love you." She whispered, her voice choked with emotion.
"I love you too," Y/N replied, returning the embrace, ''I think you forgot for a moment that I'm, like, your biggest fan.'' She chuckled, tears forming in her own eyes.
Jessie laughed now as well. "How could I forget?" She echoed, her eyes sparkling with affection as she looked at Y/N. "You're the best.”
As the evening wore on, the weight of Jessie's decision lingered in the air, casting a somber mood over the apartment. Despite the reassurances they had exchanged, the reality of the situation still hung heavy on their hearts.
A few days later, the time came for Jessie to face her teammates and share the news of her new club. The staff had gathered the team into the meeting room with the excuse they needed to go over some past matches.
''Before we get into some of the matches, there is someone here who has some news for us,'' Emma began, ''Jessie?'' The coach signaled for the Canadian to take her spot at the front of the room.
The midfielder quietly walked towards Emma. ''Hey, everyone,” she awkwardly greeted the room, "I, uh... I have something I need to tell you.” A hush fell over the room as all eyes turned to Jessie.
Y/N's eyes became fixed on the floor, not feeling ready to hear this for a second time.
''I've received an offer from the Portland Thorns,” she said, still a bit on edge, ''and… I've decided to accept it. So this is actually my, uh, last day as a Blue.''
"I... I know this might come as a surprise," Jessie continued, her voice faltering. "you guys are an amazing group, and I'm so lucky to have shared the pitch with such incredible players. All of you will always have a special place in my heart, and, yeah, just thank you for everything.'' She finished her small speech, becoming emotional.
She received applause from the squad and staff in the room. Emma was the first to give her a hug. A flicker of irritation flashed through Y/N at the thought of their coach's role in Jessie's decision to leave, but she pushed it aside, knowing that now was not the time.
All the players got up from their seats to say their own ‘thank you's' or give their own hugs to Jessie. However, the young striker remained seated, finding herself unable to follow her teammates.
With a heavy heart, Y/N quietly rose from her seat, her footsteps barely audible as she made her way towards the door.
She felt a hand on her shoulder as she almost went for the door handle. ''You okay?''
Y/N was met with Sam as she turned around, the Australian's face expressing concern over her teammate's exit without having said anything to her girlfriend.
''Yeah, just need the bathroom.'' She replied, quickly.
Sam nodded and let her go, but she was not convinced. The No. 20 shared a look with her captain who had also watched the young woman's escape.
Millie swiftly ruffled the Canadian's hair, before walking over to Sam. ''What was that?''
''I don't know, said she needed the bathroom, but she went before the meeting.'' The experienced striker explained, a furrow in her eyebrows.
''I'll talk to her.'' Turning back to Sam, she offered a reassuring smile before making her way towards the door.
She caught up with Y/N in the hallway, and gently placed a hand on her shoulder, causing her to startle slightly. "Hey," the Brit said delicately, her voice filled with warmth and understanding. "Mind if we chat for a moment?”
Y/N hesitated, her gaze fixed on the floor as she struggled to meet her older teammate's eyes. "Sure." she replied quietly.
She led the younger one to a more secluded area, not wanting anyone to eavesdrop on their more personal moment. Millie's face was full of concern as she turned to her. ''Are you okay? What happened there? Didn't Jessie tell you already?''
''She did, she did… a few days ago.'' She answered, her voice still quiet and full of emotion.
''Then, what's wrong? Why'd you leave?''
Y/N pulled her attention from the ground to Millie's eyes. ''It's just… that, like, it seemed to have only hit me now that she's actually going, you know? She's gonna go to Portland, while I'm staying here in fucking London.''
Millie's expression softened with understanding as she listened to Y/N's words, her heart aching for her younger teammate. ''I get it,'' she put her arm around her, ''it's tough knowing that she'll be so far away, especially when you're used to having her here with you every day.''
The striker nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek as she struggled to contain her emotions. "Yeah," she murmured, ''I'm…'' she trailed off.
''You're what, sweetheart?''
''I'm scared.'' Her voice was small, if her teammate wasn't standing so close to her, she probably would have missed it.
''Of what?'' The captain frowned.
''The distance, I don't think I can handle it, Millie.''
Millie's heart ached at the vulnerability in Y/N's voice, her own eyes brimming with tears as she wrapped her younger friend in a warm embrace. "I understand," she murmured, offering her a comforting squeeze, "it's okay to be scared. It's a big change. For the both of you.''
Y/N nodded, her tears flowing freely now as she struggled to articulate the depth of her fears. "I... I'm scared of losing her," she admitted softly, ''that she'll forget me while she's there.''
"You won't lose her," she reassured her, her voice filled with sincerity. "Jessie loves you, Y/N. And distance won't change that.”
Y/N sniffled, a small hiccup escaping her as she leaned into Millie's embrace, finding solace in her comforting words. "But what if... what if she meets someone else?" She whispered, her voice tinged with fear.
Millie's grip tightened, her heart breaking at the thought of her friend's pain. "Jessie loves you," she repeated firmly. "And nothing, and I really mean that, nothing will bloody change that.''
''Thanks, Mills.'' Y/N said, her head resting on her shoulder.
''You're welcome, darling. I'm always here for you. And Erin, and Sam, and Guro, Niamh, Z, all of us.'' She reassured her, wanting her to know that they'll stand by her while she goes through this difficult time.
Y/N let out a shaky breath, feeling a sense of relief wash over her at Millie's words. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice filled with gratitude. "I... I really needed to hear that.”
''Anytime, bubs,'' the defender pecked the top of her head, ''I do think you need to tell Jessie this. It's important for her to know how you feel about all this.''
The younger one nodded, taking a moment to compose herself before pulling away from Millie. "You're right," she agreed, her voice a bit steadier now, ''I'll talk to her about it.''
Millie gave her a reassuring smile, her eyes filled with encouragement. ''Great, she'll understand. It's Jessie, remember?'' She chuckled, trying to get a grin out of her friend.
She was successful as Y/N managed to crack a smile. ''Yeah, it's Jessie,'' she straightened her posture as if ready for battle, ''thanks again, Mills. I really appreciate it.''
The defender nodded, the smile on her own face widening. ''You're very welcome, sweetheart.'' She gave Y/N a small pat on the back.
The next evening, they sat together in their dimly lit living room, trying to watch a movie. Y/N glanced over at Jessie, whose eyes were focused on the television.
"Jessie," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, ''can I, uh, talk to you about something?''
The Canadian's brows furrowed in concern as she turned towards her partner. ''Of course.''
Y/N took a deep breath. ''First, I am so happy for you that you're going somewhere where they are appreciating your talent, and that you'll be closer to your family and your siblings...'' she began, her words slow and measured. She paused, struggling to meet Jessie's gaze. ''I just don't think that I, uh, am gonna be able to handle the distance.''
Jessie's stomach twisted with unease as she absorbed her words. In the days since it had become official that she would be moving to Portland, they hadn't really discussed how their relationship would proceed. Each of them had spoken about it with their friends, but they both seemed hesitant to broach the topic with each other, perhaps afraid of the uncertainty it might bring.
''I want to, Jessie, I really want to try- I just want you to know how I feel, it's been bothering me.''
The midfielder found it hard to respond as she observed her girlfriend who looked like she was about to burst out in tears. Tears welled up in Jessie's eyes as she reached out to gently cup Y/N's face in her hands, forcing her to meet her gaze. "I understand," she whispered, her voice strained, "and I appreciate you being honest with me.”
Y/N's own eyes started to water. She leaned into Jessie's touch, her heart breaking at the thought of losing her. ''I love you, J Flem.''
''I love you.'' Jessie reciprocated as she took her partner into her arms, wanting her as close as possible.
''I don't know if I can handle being so far apart, not seeing you or speaking to you every day. International break is already a killer for me, and it's difficult to just go back-and-forth between Portland and London.'' The striker whispered into Jessie's neck, not able to say it any louder.
The Canadian nodded, completely understanding her perspective. ''I know,'' she whispered back, 'I never wanted to put you in this position."
For a moment, they simply held each other in silence, the weight of their unspoken fears hanging heavy in the air. But as the minutes ticked by, the reality of their situation became increasingly clear.
''I don't want to hold you back.'' Y/N said, her voice muffled against the fabric of Jessie's shirt.
''You're not holding me back at all.'' Jessie immediately retorted, ruffling her hair.
Y/N weakly chuckled. ''It feels like I am.''
''Please don't think that, babe.''
They were both aware of what was coming, they were simply wasting time as if that would somehow work and they wouldn't have to leave each other.
''I remember when I first joined Chelsea, and I was watching some of you guys' matches, and thinking you were so intimidating,'' Jessie broke the silence.
''but then you were actually one of the first people to say hi to me, and you just looked so different than on the pitch. You were smiling, and trying your best to make me feel welcome.'' She laughed, an affectionate smile playing on her lips.
Y/N grinned as well, while wiping some loose tears away. ''I just remember thinking you looking super awkward.'' She dryly responded.
Jessie gave her a light push. ''Hey!''
''I also thought you were very cute… with your flushed cheeks.'' She quickly added.
The midfielder ironically blushed at the admission.
It became quiet between the two of them again, reminiscing their early days as teammates at Chelsea.
''We'll find our way back to one another, I'm sure of it.'' Jessie nodded.
Y/n felt a lump in her throat at Jessie's words. ''We're still so young, you never know what can happen.''
''And I know what's going to happen. You and I, together- whenever, wherever that may be.'' She reassured her, her voice filled with sincerity.
Y/N nodded, her chest tightening with the weight of their impending separation. "I love you, Jessie." She told her, the pair locking eyes.
"I love you too," Jessie replied, her voice catching in her throat, "more than anything."
jessie fleming requests are always welcome!
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The scarf fic was amazing! Short but gold. I absolutly loved it and I think it has huge potential for a series or a longer fic. Pervy william is what I *need* rn, seriously requesting a continuation;-;
Thanks for this request, it was much too nice to revisit prevy Will. Here's a little continuation, I might get around to some corruption smut in the future ;)
Lost Property - pt. 1 here
William Afton x fem reader
“Bugger.” You say to yourself as you lift up the few garments on the coat hook in search of your scarf. How can you have lost it already? “Bleeding ridiculous…” You mutter: it’s not there. Some fucker has probably swiped it, though to be fair you should know better than to leave anything unattended here, people’s belongings have a nasty habit of just ‘going walkies’ when not under lock and key.
You’re feeling pretty defeated until the thought strikes you that maybe somebody handed it in to the office. It’s at least worth a check. And so, not before putting your stuff in a locker, you take a breath and knock on your boss’s office door.
There’s a pause before his gruff and impatient voice lets you know that someone is in. “Yeah. Come in.” And you do.
“Hey Mr Afton…” You smile at him as you usually would. Not the kind of faux-bright grin you give customers but a more special self-deprecating one, reserved purely for colleagues. He actually smiles back, though it’s slow to spread across his face.
You are just a pleasure to see, especially wearing the same skirt as last time, the one that’s a couple of inches too short and delightfully skin-tight. The skirt that he thought about when he made the rota, always putting you on the shifts that he was supervising just so he can see how good you look in it.
“You alright, y/n?” He grins, eyes eventually finding their way to your face, the cool gaze making your face hot.
“Uh not too bad- I just wanted to ask if any scarves have been handed in? I left one here the other day and it’s not on the hook.”
…
Oh dear. He might have known this would happen. Your scarf certainly wasn’t handed in, in fact he knows precisely where it is and you definitely aren’t getting it back any time soon. Hell, no one’s having it, lest they pry it out of his cold, dead, horny, hands.
He sniggers briefly and you feel left out of some joke. “No, there’s nothing in here.” He prides himself on how naturally that leaves his tongue, because it’s not technically a lie. Then the most devilish idea appears in his mind. “... But I’m not sure about lost property, you could look there.”
And where is that, Mr Afton?
“Right. I haven’t looked in there before, where is it?”
The grin on your boss’s face becomes particularly wolfish and you swear his eyes sparkle. “Here, love. I’ll show you.”
~
After a short walk, spent behind your boss trying not to be put off by the way he towers over you, he shows you into a small room, little more than a cupboard. There’s shelves up the wall with boxes and baskets and shit, and on the floor a large clear bin full of clothes. He holds the door for you and stands aside to let you in. You throw him a polite smile over your shoulder, expecting him to leave you to it. But when you turn your back and crouch down to open the bin, you don’t hear any footsteps behind you. And turning around only confirms his lean frame still in the doorway.
You brush it off as maybe he just wants to be out of the office for a bit, and start rifling through the fabrics, looking for the distinctive light blue silky texture of your scarf. But with the amount of stuff in here it’s going to take a while.
William leans against the frame, taking in your perfect form, sitting there on your feet. That skirt stretched thin around all the best parts of you. This is the best idea he’s had in a while and he isn’t going to let it go to waste. So he pulls his phone out from the front pocket of his trousers, careful to keep flicking his gaze on you, and opens his camera to start taking a few photos of you down on your knees. Knowing how grateful he’ll be to himself later, when he has the opportunity to act on the stiffening of his cock just from the sight of you. It’s hard for him not to touch himself right now, but he’s not that careless, a sweet thing like you would need breaking in.
“I don’t think it’s here… fuck’s sake.” You mutter the last part, though when you turn and see your boss with an amused expression, you apologise automatically.
“You don’t have to be sorry.” He chuckles, watching you stand to your feet. He pauses as he considers whether to say the next part. “It’s a shame about your scarf though, it looked lovely on you.”
You smile, a little dazed by that comment. It was unexpected to say the least, especially from such a handsome and scary man as Mr Afton, and especially when he said it like that. You’re suddenly very aware of how you were just on your knees in front of him and it makes blood rush to your face. Then it occurs to you that you’ve been quiet for a fair while, so you rush a response, “Uh thanks- my friend is gonna kill me, she only gave me it two weeks ago.” Embarrassment doubles after you’ve finished babbling, god you need to get out of this small room.
He just laughs, finally moving out the way enough to let you out, revelling in how such a little complement made you so flustered. “I’ll keep an eye out for you, but if it’s been nicked there’s not a lot we can do.”
“Yeah, it’s fine honestly. I just wanted to have a look.” Right now you just feel silly, like you’ve wasted his time. You just want to get out on the floor and start your shift away from the eyes of this attractive man. And mercifully he lets you go, not without walking you back down the corridors with a large and intimidating hand on your lower back, the gesture now making your hands sweaty.
It’s only when you’re gone and he’s back in his office that he adjusts himself in his trousers, not a stitch of guilt at the fact that just having you alone made him hard. And the knowledge of those photos made him throb.
You poor, cute little thing, he’s going to ruin you.
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Fixing Mistakes ☾ Steven Grant × Female!Reader
Request: no, but they're open for everyone i write for :)
Warnings: donna being donna, marc pops up at the end
note: this has been done a few times before, so im sorry. i just like the idea
credits to @missdictatorme since her fic titled The Shades of the Moon is about steven getting the job as a tour guide. it is smut, so don't read it unless you're 18+
He was nervous to say the least. Donna said the new owner of the museum was making an appearance since she wanted to help them with their employees. He asked Donna about it, and she shrugged. "Might lose your job, Stevie."
So here he was, a nervous wreck while cashing out a customer. Yeah, he wasn't going to lie, as much as he didn't like working in the giftshop, he did like working at the museum. Sadly, he knew that if what Donna said was true, it was because of the number of times he was late. Then it hit him.
Wasn't the owner a man?
He shook his head and began organizing the small figures of the Egyptian Gods and Goddesses when the sound of heels made him confused as he knew one of them were Donna's, but the other was different. "Stevie! This is (Y/N). Her grandfather left her the museum after he passed away." You held your hand out while glancing at his nametag and smiled. "Nice to meet you, Steven." He took your hand and shook it, feeling his heart race at the sight of you.
Hathor blessed you with beauty, there was no denying that.
You broke the handshake and scan the giftshop. When your eyes fell on the stuffed Taweret, you made a mental note to buy it before leaving. She was honestly too adorable, and you didn't care that they were meant for children. "So, I read through your file and saw that Donna here wrote a little note saying that you wanted to be a tour guide?" He gulped before nodding his head. "Yes, I still do actually." You nodded. "Donna, can you give us a minute alone? Meet me in your office." She left and you look over at Steven. While he did sport dark circles under his eyes and baggy clothing, you thought he was handsome.
"So, it's no secret that you're late. A lot. Can you explain that to me?" You grab one of the plushies and bite your lip to hide your smile. "I-I have a sleeping disorder," Steven let his eyes wander a bit, checking you out before snapping out of it quickly. You hummed at his response before looking back at him, your eyes meeting his dark brown ones. "I trust there's a reason you want to be a tour guide and I know Donna doesn't want you to have it because you hardly come on time, but can I ask why you want to be a tour guide?"
He went ahead and ranted about Egypt, telling you everything that fascinated him which left you speechless. "It's just amazing!" You smiled at him. "I love that you know so much about it, Steven, I do. I can't give you the position though because of your tardiness, you know that right?" The smile on his face faded. "Y-yeah, I know."
"However, can you tell me why Donna calls you Stevie? You two don't seem close for her to give you a nickname, right?" He snorted. "She isn't great with names." You tilt your head to the side. "Steven, J.B calls you Scotty. I would get him not being good with names because he was playing a game on his phone when I walked in. Gave him a warning and told Donna she had to be on top of him for that. You work at the giftshop, and she makes you do inventory with her. How does she not know your name? Haven't you corrected her?" He nodded.
"She's just ignorant then?" He looked down and you sighed. "You know I can't have someone like that working here. I know she wants me to fire you, but honestly, I think you can try being on time more than she could be less ignorant." He chuckled at your words and nodded. "I need you to do something for me though before I tell Donna the news of her termination." HIs eyes widened at your words as you placed the plushie on the counter. "Can you ring me out and maybe try to be on time for, let's say...a week? If so, I'll think about that promotion for you." You sent him a wink, causing him to gasp and nod frantically. "I would love that! Thank you, (Y/N)!" You grin as he handed you the plush along with the receipt after cashing you out.
"No problem, but please don't make me regret this, okay?" He ran out from behind the counter and hugged you. You were surprised, but ultimately decided to hug him back...oh man, these baggy clothes did absolutely nothing but hide the fact that he had muscles. "Thank you thank you thank you." You chuckle before pulling back from the hug with Steven and hugging Taweret. "Just please promise me you'll make the effort to come on time. You'd be a perfect addition to the tour guides." With that, you left the giftshop, making Steven fist pump the air. "Honestly, she's 1,000 times better than Donna. I'll try to make sure you get up on time for now on, okay buddy?" Steven looked at the glass counter and raised a brow at his reflection. "I think we both know she's gorgeous, mate. Do you think she'd be interested?"
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, buddy. I like your suggestion, but patience is a virtue."
#steven grant x reader#steven grant x you#steven grant#steven grant x y/n#moon knight#moon knight x reader#mister knight#marvel#mcu#marvel universe
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The Gunslinger & The Mandalorian
Boxer!Abby Anderson x F!Reader x Boxer!Din Djarin
Ways to help Palestine | Main Masterlist
Abby Anderson Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist
Author’s note: Thank you to @ilovepedro for helping me with this idea!!! This can be read as a stand alone but if you read The Gunslinger you’ll get some more background info on Abby and the reader’s relationship 🤍
Summary: After a day of boxing tournaments, the elusive champion, the Mandalorian, approaches you while you’re alone. Abby doesn’t like that he’s encroaching on her girl and decides to show him who you belong to. You come up with the perfect solution for this unique little situation.
Word count: 2.2k
Warnings: established situationship for reader and Abby, reader is able-bodied, no outbreak AU for TLOU, modern AU for The Mandalorian, both Din and Abby are a little cocky/out of character probably, blood, jealousy/possessiveness, vague and probably bad boxing descriptions, masturbation, semi public sex, oral sex (reader receiving), fingering, nipple play, piv sex, unprotected sex/pull out method, pet names (pretty girl, sweetheart, baby), no use of y/n, this is probably also a crack fic IDK
Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics Fic recs: @kelbellsficrecs
It’s a busy Saturday in the ring. Two boxing tournaments are happening today. The first one in the women’s tournament followed by the men’s. You never expected to like boxing but once you saw the Gunslinger, also known as Abby Anderson, fight you quickly became a fan. You’ve grown accustomed to the loud noises, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with rowdy fans, and cheap beer.
You’ve formed a special kind of relationship with her… more of a situationship. Which means you go to her matches and let her dom you in the locker rooms after.
That’s your plan for tonight. Abby just won the entire tournament and now is when you’d normally head to the locker rooms for your post-match ritual. But it’s time for the men’s tournament and the arena is still a little too packed for your liking. Abby on the other hand doesn’t dare who hears or sees you two fucking but you’re a bit more shy.
So you’ve resigned to watching the men’s tournament, front and center. It’s not as captivating as women’s boxing but it’ll do. It does feel like it drags on longer though.
There is one interesting thing about the men’s tournament, however, a boxer who goes by The Mandalorian. You’re not sure what his name means but something is intriguing about him. It might be his curly brown hair or matching brown eyes… Or it might be because he wears a black bandanna that covers the lower half of his face.
He’s pulled the same moves as Abby during his matches, looking over at you periodically. But instead of smirking he winks at you. Abby caught on right away and she’s pissed, to say the least.
“Who does this guy think he is?” Abby huffs, folding her arms.
You don’t respond, staring at him with a slack jaw. You can’t see half his face but that doesn’t hinder your attraction to him.
“Hello??” she says, waving a hand in front of your face and snapping you out of your trance.
“Huh?” you say, looking over at her.
“Don’t tell me you’re into him,” she says, visibly jealous.
“...No.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“Well, yes. A little. But he’s just a guy.”
“I don’t care who he is. I’ll show him who you belong to.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” you tease.
“You say that now. Let’s just hope he loses.”
The match is riveting. And even after a few blows to his face, he remains resilient. Throughout the match, you’re caught staring at his arms. God, it’s like he has baseballs in his biceps. His skin is shiny, getting slick with sweat as the match progresses. Matted curls stick to his forehead as he fights, delivering devastating punches and exerting so much strength.
He wins, of course, standing proudly in the ring with his title belt up in the air. And he’s just so attractive. You’re stuck staring at him with your mouth agape, watching the muscles in his back flex as he waves his belt around. You’re fully checking him out. And Abby’s not having it.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” she says abruptly, getting up and walking away amid all the chaos. She’s probably going to collect her things and blow off steam. You’re not sure why she’s so jealous. You’ve never put a label on your “relationship” and you’re sure there are people she fucks other than you. You’ve just never asked.
You stay where you are and do what you normally do, waiting until the crowd and excitement dissipate until it’s time to go. It takes twice as long as it normally does, considering there were two tournaments today.
You stand up and scan the room for Abby but you don’t see her. There are a few small groups of people hanging around, laughing and joking amongst themselves. But no Abby. Before you can walk away and search for her near the locker rooms, a tap on your shoulder startles you.
You turn around, expecting it to be Abby. But it’s not. It’s none other than the Mandalorian.
“Oh, hi!” you say, feeling a little bashful. You shift between both feet and look at the floor. “That was a great match.”
“Thanks,” he says, grabbing your chin and angling your face away from the floor and up at him. He’s still wearing his bandanna. A few patches of the fabric are darkened with blood.
“Are you here with anyone?” he asks. His brown eyes search your face and you can tell he’s smirking under his facial covering.
“Y-Yes,” you say, trying to regain your composure, “I’m not sure where she is, though.”
“That’s alright. I got you,” he says, grabbing your hand and coaxing you to sit on the stands with him. The groups of people start to fade and you’re left in the empty arena with the Mandalorian awkwardly sitting side by side.
He lets go of your hand, turning and angling his body towards yours.
“You never told me your name, sweetheart,” he says, looking intently into your eyes. He’s big on eye contact you notice. You tell him your name and he tells you it’s a beautiful name before revealing his own.
“My name is Din,” he says, smiling under the fabric again, “You should come to more of my matches. I’ve never seen you around before.”
Before you can respond, you’re startled by some of the overhead lights turning off.
“It’s okay,” he chuckles, “It just means they’re locking up. We should be alone now.”
“Can we still get out?”
“Of course,” he says, “What about the woman you were here with?”
“Oh! I’m not sure what-”
You’re cut off by a voice behind you.
“I’m right here,” Abby says, voice firm and booming.
You turn around and inch away from Din, looking at Abby who’s standing with her hands at her sides, balled up into fists.
“What do you think you’re doing with my girl?” Abby says, stepping in front of Din. She towers over him until he stands up. He’s taller than her by a few inches.
“If she’s your girl then why did you leave her all alone? For anyone to come along and take her,” he says with a smirk, tilting his head to the side.
“I think you need to be put in your place,” Abby says, folding her arms.
“Do it then,” Din says. He takes off his bandanna, revealing dried blood around his nose and mixed in with his facial hair. “I’m not afraid to go after the things I want,” he continues, tapping the title belt wrapped around his waist.
Abby scoffs and says, “Oh really? You think you’re so tough just because you won? That makes two of us, jackass,” she says, gesturing to her bag and title belt on the bench with a jerk of her head.
This is going to get ugly if you don’t step in.
You rise from the bench and stand beside the two of them. They’re so close together that their chests are almost touching. You grab both of their shoulders and try to diffuse the situation in the best way you can think of off the top of your head; with sex, of course.
“Guys! Don’t fight… There’s enough of me to go around.”
“What?!” Abby says, snapping her head towards you.
“What can I say? Think of it as a victory lap for both of today’s winners.”
She looks at Din and then back at you, bewilderment all over her face.
“And you’re serious about this?” she says.
“I mean I don’t see why not,” you shrug, “Besides fucking after a match is exactly how we got together.”
“Love to see it,” Din says.
“You’re okay with this??” Abby says.
“Of course he is. He’s already hard,” you say, gesturing to the growing bulge in his shorts.
“I was looking forward to a good fight but this’ll do,” he shrugs.
“Sounds like we’re all in agreement! Where should we go?”
“Right here is fine,” Din says, “Get on the bench, sweetheart.”
“Right here?!”
“I said we were alone now,” he says, shrugging again.
You pull off your shirt and unclasp your bra, watching as both of their eyes widen as they scan your topless form. A realization hits you so you cover your breasts with your hands and ask, “What about cameras?”
“Nah. They don’t work here,” Din says.
“How do you know that?” Abby asks.
“Do you fight here regularly?”
“...No?”
“That’s what I thought. I know this place.”
“Enough bickering. Just fuck me already,” you say, sliding off your underwear and hiking up your skirt. You lie down on the bench, feet planted on either side with your legs spread apart.
“My turn with her first,” Abby says quickly, straddling the bench and crouching down in front of your wet cunt.
“Fine by me,” Din says, taking his cock out of his shorts. You look over at his cock; long, thick, and uncut. The head of his cock is glistening with pre-cum, sliding down his shaft as he strokes himself. Abby takes a long and slow lick up your cunt before flicking her tongue around your clit. A shiver runs down your spine and your nipples perk up. Din jerks off watching Abby eat you out, and talks to you during it.
“She making you feel good, sweetheart?”
“Mhm,” you moan, looking from him and down at Abby. She makes eye contact with you while she sucks your clit. “She always does,” you add.
She pulls away for a moment and says, “That’s right, pretty girl,” before returning her mouth to your clit.
You arch your back up off the bench, feeling your core muscles tense up in anticipation of a big release. She always does this. She always makes you cum hard and fast. But just when you’re at the edge of orgasm, she pulls away again, bringing two fingers to her mouth, getting them nice and slick to slip inside you. She pushes her pointer and middle fingers inside your pussy, curling them against your g-spot while she returns her mouth to your clit.
“Cum for her, sweetheart,” Din says, looking down at you.
As if his words were the permission you needed, you finally cum, soaking her fingers and the lower half of her face. She moans into you, reveling in the taste of your release.
Din curses under his breath in a language you can’t understand, stroking himself faster and faster until he stops. He probably doesn’t want to cum yet.
Abby pulls away when you’re done coming and you’re right, the bottom half of her face is drenched. She takes her thumb and swipes it along her chin, collecting your wetness and tasting it.
“You taste so good, pretty girl,” she coos, tilting her head to the side and smirking at you. “I guess it’s your turn,” she says, looking up at Din and rolling her eyes.
“Damn right it is,” he says, switching spots with her.
Abby kneels by your head and caresses your cheek, looking at you sweetly while Din grabs your hips.
“You ready for me, sweetheart?” Din asks.
“Mhm,” you breathe out, voice high-pitched from the intense orgasm Abby gave you.
Din rubs the head of his cock against your entrance before pushing into you slowly, giving you time to get adjusted to his size. He buries his cock inside you down to the hilt, cursing under his breath in the same strange language.
“You feel so good, sweetheart,” he says, drawing his hips back and thrusting into you.
Abby’s hands caress the outline of your breasts before moving to your nipples. If there’s a heaven, you found it, here with the two hottest people alive, letting them have their way with you after their respective wins.
“Is he fucking you good, baby? Like you deserve?” she asks, lowering her head above your nipple.
Before you can respond, she takes your nipple in her mouth, tongue flicking around the stiff peak. Your eyes flash between her face on your breast and Din’s blood-stained face. He fucks you harder and harder, holding your hips tight. Abby moves to your other nipple and you feel like you’re about to burst again.
“Mmm, I’m gonna cum,” you moan.
Abby releases your nipple with a pop and says, “Do it, baby. Cum all over his cock.”
“Listen to your girl,” Din says, thrusting into you one final time before your orgasm spills over.
You cum hard around his cock, stars dancing in your vision.
“Good girl,” Abby repeats over and over again, kissing your forehead. Din holds on as long as he can before pulling out and coming on your inner thigh. Abby stands and walks over to her belt, grabbing a hand towel and handing it to Din. He cleans you up and Abby helps you sit upright.
“Everybody cool now?” you sigh, leaning against Din’s shoulder.
“We’re cool,” Abby says, sitting beside you and collecting your clothes.
They both help you get dressed and soon enough it’s time to part ways for the night.
“You know what? You both should come to one of my matches sometime,” Din says with a smirk before replacing the bandanna around his face.
“...Maybe,” Abby says.
“Baby steps,” you sigh. “See you later, Din!”
He waves goodbye and you interlock hands with Abby, going home knowing that you fucked two champions tonight.
#din djarin x reader#abby anderson x reader#din djarin smut#din djarin x f!reader#din djarin fanfiction#abby anderson smut#abby anderson x f!reader#abby anderson fanfiction#the mandalorian#the mandalorian fanfiction#tlou fanfiction#abby anderson x you#din djarin x you#pedrostories
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Please note that this fic is going to take the better part of 2024 and probably 2025
(and given my track record might never be done):
Sansa
"Do you like the taste?" asked Littlefinger, watching her closely as she tried the wine. He always watched her closely.
They had stopped at the Inn at the Crossroads; she hadn't wanted to, but she would have had to explain to Littlefinger why. So she had choked down a meal and refused to think about the last time she had come through this way, where the first member of her family had been murdered in the stable while Joffrey had sniveled and lied and shown her, for the first time, who he really was.
"I don't see what all the fuss is about," she answered. "Why do men love it so much?"
Littlefinger shrugged. "It gives some men courage."
"Does it give you courage?"
He smiled, the way he did when she had stung him. He would take his revenge on her somehow, she knew. He was nothing like Joffrey, but there was a smallness to him that reminded her of the king.
The dead king, now.
A flash of armor to her right made her look up; a familiar woman, tall and broad of shoulder in a suit of armor, had approached their table.
"Lord Baelish. Lady Sansa. My name is Brienne of Tarth."
Sansa opened her mouth to reply, to tell her she knew who she was, of course she knew. Tyrion had mentioned her often, usually after rebuffing yet another request by the lady of Tarth for an audience with Sansa. I hope you don't mind, and Jaime vouches for her, but Cersei has made it clear she's to go nowhere near you and frankly this giantess makes me a bit nervy. He'd been glad to recount the tale of Lady Brienne and Ser Jaime, traipsing through the Riverlands on their way to King's Landing.
Before Sansa could speak a word, Littlefinger had made some cutting remark, the sort he was so good at. She'd yet to be on the receiving end of any of them but she flinched all the same, watching Brienne's face. Littlefinger was something like Joffrey — and something like herself, too, when she'd been young and pleased at her own wit. Looking back, she knew now that she had only ever been cruel.
Lady Brienne seemed not even to hear Littlefinger; as though he were no more than a gnat to be tolerated until such moment as he could be swatted. She knelt, awkward but not clumsy, and looked earnestly up at her. "Lady Sansa. Before your mother's death, I was her sworn sword. I gave my word I would find you and protect you. I will shield your back and keep your counsel, and give my life for you if needs be. I swear it by the Old Gods and the New."
Would she have given the answering vow? She would never know, because once again Littlefinger was talking, sliding his glance over to Sansa to see what remarks might prompt a reaction. Sansa stayed still and watched as Lady Brienne's attention was at least drawn away, glaring at Littlefinger.
"Strange," Littlefinger was saying. "I knew Cat since the time we were children. She never mentioned you."
"It was after Renly's murder," said Lady Brienne, direct and blunt. She and Sandor would get along well, Sansa thought suddenly. Pity they had never met.
"Ah, yes," said Littlefinger. "You were accused of killing him."
Lady Brienne blushed, a splotchy red spreading across her cheeks. Shame, Sansa thought, but not guilt. "I tried to save him," she spat out. She did not glance over, to see if Sansa would believe her.
"But you were accused."
"By men who did not see what happened."
"And what did happen?"
"He was murdered by a shadow. A shadow with the face of Stannis Baratheon."
"A shadow? With a face?" Littlefinger turned to Sansa, and that was when she knew whatever he was about to say was a lie. "This woman swore to protect Renly. She failed. She swore to protect your mother. She failed." He smirked up at Lady Brienne. "Why would I want somebody with your history of failure guarding Lady Sansa?"
Lady Brienne made a face. "Why would you have any say in her affairs?"
"Because I am her uncle. I married her Aunt Lysa shortly before my beloved's untimely death. We're family now. And you are an outsider. Forgive me, Lady Brienne. But experience has made me wary of outsiders."
She gaped at him, then looked back at Sansa. "Lady Sansa," she said, and paused, as though at a loss for how to convince her. "If we can have a word alone?"
"Yes." Sansa rose, knocking into the table. The goblet of wine spilled and ran down her dress, but she was on her feet at last. The sellswords Littlefinger had brought with him moved in, one of them putting a hand on Lady Brienne's shoulder. She tensed and in just a few seconds there would be bloodshed, there would be someone dead on the floor and it would be her fault.
"Uncle Petyr," she said loudly, her heart rabbiting out of her chest, "Thank you very much for understanding. I will speak with Lady Brienne as you suggest, and then we shall resume our journey."
The sounds of eating and talking died out as faces turned toward her. A round-faced boy came bustling up, a wide, customer-friendly smile pasted on his face. "Is there anything I can help with, milord?" he chirruped.
"A room for the ladies," said Littlefinger, still watching her. She nodded very slightly and his mouth twitched.
"Have you anything on the floor above?" she added, addressing the boy with a nervous glance toward Lady Brienne.
"Er," came the reply, "Yes? Right this way, milady. Miladies."
Sansa leaned toward Littlefinger. He smelled of wine and the oils he used on his hair. "Could some of the guards watch the door?" she whispered. "And some near the stairs. Just…in case."
"Of course," he said, though his eyes were on her mouth.
The way Littlefinger had spoken of her mother, there had been a great rivalry between himself and Ned Stark; and before that a rivalry between himself and her uncle Brandon, who'd been betrothed to Catelyn before his murder. Littlefinger had always sounded like the defeated lover, the man who had nearly won his beloved's hand.
Mother had never mentioned Littlefinger. Father had, once they were in King's Landing and he'd been forced to admit an acquaintance. He'd sounded irritated more than angry; her mother had never loved him, had hardly ever thought of him. Her parents had lived and loved each other and all the while Littlefinger had stewed in his own curdled affections, imagining a love story that had never existed.
She could never decide what had moved her to kiss him on the cheek. Perhaps it had been a clever ploy to distract him, or a way to tell him she would return. She would have liked to have been that clever. But in the moment she could remember only how sorry she felt for him. "I'll just be a few moments," she promised him, lying.
Minutes later she was in a small bedchamber, with two dirty windows on each outside wall and the ominous creak of leather and metal just outside the door, signaling that Littlefinger's sellswords had taken up position. Lady Brienne, for her part, looked as uncomfortable as she had downstairs. "Thank you for speaking with me, my lady," she said.
"Can you fight them all?" Sansa asked her, keeping her voice down. They would need to be overheard soon, but they had a few seconds. Enough time, perhaps enough time. "If there's four in the corridor, and four downstairs."
"What? Yes, of course," said Lady Brienne, expression torn between confusion and offense. She fought off a bear once, Tyrion had told her with glee. Even beat my dear brother in a sword fight. When he still had both hands.
Sansa went to the first window. A long drop onto hard ground, and it faced the road as well as the hitching posts. The second was more promising: hay bales stacked haphazardly next to the wall, and the wood only twenty hards away.
"Start talking," she hissed at Lady Brienne.
She frowned. "I'm sorry?"
Sansa mimed opening the window. "Start talking. About anything. Honor or duty or what my mother was like. Whatever you'd say if you were trying to convince me."
Lady Brienne's eyes widened in understanding. "I…am not much for speeches, my lady," she said slowly, then more loudly as Sansa pulled open the window slowly, mindful of any squeaking. "But I found your mother an honorable woman, and your brother too. I brought Ser Jaime Lannister back to King's Landing at her request, so that you might be returned to your mother in exchange."
It would never have worked; she'd known that even then. The Lannisters did not understand the notion of letting go of an advantage, once they'd sunk their teeth into one. Even Tyrion had never offered to take her to her family once they'd been married. He'd had his reasons, and they had been good ones, but she'd learned another lesson that day. "So you sacrificed your oath to protect my mother for an oath to protect me?" she asked, making sure her voice carried as she swung her legs over the sill. "How can I know you'll not abandon me, too?"
It was important not to think. If she thought about it, she wouldn't do it.
She held her breath, put her hands over her mouth, and fell.
#yes I know they stop at AN inn not necessarily THE inn at the crossroads#but any excuse to have Hot Pie in a scene#also curious how people will react to Sansa Stark: Girl Who Jumps From Windows#because she does in canon but lbr that's after some uhhh gnarly shit goes down#would sansa do that if not pushed as far as she was at the end of season 5?#let's find out!#game of thrones#got: bitches get stuff done
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"Are you ticklish?"
a/n: ty kafka for the fic idea
characters: caelus, dan heng
wc: ~2.6k
summary: one truth, one lie~
"One round."
"No."
"Please?"
Dan Heng sighed to himself, ready to turn down Caelus' request once more, only to pause the second he looked up from his phone. Although the other was seated the same way as before, there was a slight pout to his lips that accompanied the plea in his eyes, his upper body just barely leaning over the other end of the mattress that was Dan Heng's bed. If this were March, the archivist would have no problem shooting her down, maybe even going as far to say he somewhat enjoyed it when he got the chance, but there was something different with Caelus, an unfamiliar feeling that Dan Heng found himself inept at putting into words. He found himself nearly caving to the request, but promptly shook his head. "No, no," he quickly turned the other down, unable to look him in the eyes while doing so. "No games."
Caelus huffed as folded his arms, the puppy-dog expression dissipating immediately at the sign of rejection. "But why not? You don't even know what the game is."
"Because I suspect it's a game you and March created to make a fool of me," he put it bluntly. "Am I right?"
"Wha- No!" Maybe Caelus was being honest with how vehemently he denied the claim. "March wasn't even involved.. this time. Someone else taught me, okay? March has nothing to do with this!"
Dan Heng stared at the other, flipping through the potential consequences of entertaining this "game" in his head, ultimately releasing a heavy sigh in the end. "At least tell me what the game is and I might consider playing."
One would think that Caelus had already won the actual game with the way he beamed in response. "Alright, so the game is called 'One Truth, One Lie.' It's simple; we ask each two questions per round and for one question, you have to answer with the truth. The other question, though, you have to give a lie. Easy, right?"
Dan Heng tapped an index finger to his leg as he gave thought to the rules presented to him. "How do I know when you're lying, though?"
"That's the point," Caelus said. "You don't."
"Huh, okay," he mumbled in thought, giving himself a moment to ponder. "Then what's stopping me from answering with two lies?" he threw his thoughts into the air, not necessarily directing his question at Caelus. "Or even two truths?"
"Ugh, don't be like that," Caelus shook his head at the notion. "It's no fun if you decide to cheat."
"I'm still not sure what's the end goal of this game, though."
"J-Just roll with it," Caelus stammered, huffing impatiently. "Please?"
Dan Heng tilted his head inquisitively, thinking of the many outcomes of the game. It seemed relatively benign and the overall nature was harmless, so maybe, just maybe, there was no ulterior motive? He gave Caelus one long final glance, receiving a big grin in response that only made Dan Heng sigh. "Fine, we'll go a round." He figured Caelus wouldn't take 'no' for an answer, regardless.
Caelus mouthed an inaudible 'yes' and Dan Heng couldn't help but chuckle at how very visibly excited he was. "Alright, alright," Caelus scooted closer, a little too close, "I'll go first."
Dan Heng watched as the other stared at the ceiling in thought, but as the seconds passed without a first question, he started to wonder whether this game was as simple as initially presented. "Err, you good?" Dan Heng blinked at Caelus, still awaiting a response. "Should I go-"
"Just shh," Caelus quickly waved his hand in the air and Dan Heng shut his mouth. "Okay," he breathed, a noticeable quiver to his voice. "W-What do you think about me?"
That was it? Nothing intrusive, or embarrassing even? Dan Heng couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, expecting a second question, but Caelus' held his wide eyes and what seemed to be bated breath for Dan Heng's response. "I-" he paused, pondering how he should go about his answer.
"You?" Caelus nudged him along. There was a glint of anticipation in his eyes that distracted Dan Heng for the briefest of moments, but he simply brushed it off.
"I like you," Dan Heng said with a simple nod, choosing to start off with the truth.
"You do?!"
"Uh, that's what I said, yes," he responded, taken back by the sudden eccentricity, blinking at the way Caelus seemed to visibly shake with excitement. "You're a dependable ally in combat and a great friend."
What he wasn't expecting was the complete one-eighty in expression, watching the ecstatic grin morph into a dejected frown and slouched shoulders. "Uhh, did I say something wrong?" There was genuine concern in his voice because what in Aeon's name did he say to hurt the poor thing?
"N-No, I just-"
"Should I have said that I hate you?"
"No!" Caelus nearly cried out, before sighing, balling up his fists as he recomposed himself. "I guess I just was ho- err, expecting something else? But y'know, you might be lying."
"I suppose?" Dan Heng wasn't sure what he was getting at. Why did it feel like he was playing the game wrong?
"Okay," Caelus inhaled with a nod, "your turn for a question."
"Mmmm," came an inward hum from Dan Heng's chest as he gave his first question some thought. He now realized why Caelus took so much time initially; an infinite amount of possibilities existed, so how could he just stick to one? As he took glances around the library he called his room, his eyes finally landed on Caelus' phone beside his leg and a suitable question finally sprung to mind. "How much money have you spent on your gambling games?"
"Uh, actually gachas aren't considered gambling because you still win a prize at the end, no matter the outcome," Caelus explained matter-of-factly.
"Okay, whatever helps you justify your gambling addiction."
"Well, I'm free to play, okay?" Caelus rolled his eyes at the sudden jab.
An amused chuckle slipped from Dan Heng's lips as he raised an eyebrow. "Really now?"
"Uh-huh."
"Yet you always bug me and March to pay for your lunch."
"Food always tastes better when it's free!"
Well, he couldn't argue with that. Still, he took one long final stare at Caelus, just to make sure, but found the other impossible to read, prompting a confident shrug that further threw Dan Heng off. Not that he believed Caelus at all, but his rather convincing mannerisms seemed to suggest otherwise. "Alright, your turn again," Dan Heng said once finished with his "investigation".
"Okay, I have the perfect question," Caelus said, leaning in with a smirk that Dan Heng already didn't like. "Dan Heng, are you.. ticklish?"
What a strange person this man was. Of all things he could ask, tickling was one of the things to settle on? Not about Dan Heng's past, or his most embarrassing moments, but tickling? Dan Heng blinked at the other, waiting to see if he'd take the chance to backtrack, but Caelus seemed content with his question, sitting there with a small smile as he waited.
"I'm not," Dan Heng lied, folding his arms together. All the flashbacks of March, Himeko, even Welt on occasion, providing passing tickles seemed to rush to the forefront of his mind the instant he spoke, but he held a straight face for the sake of the game.
The smug smirk never left Caelus' face, even after Dan Heng presented his answer. "Really? You're not lying?"
"The rules of the game prevent me from revealing that," Dan Heng held firm.
"But do the rules of the game prevent me from revealing that?" Caelus asked the other. There was a brief glint in his eyes that Dan Heng failed to decipher as it disappeared, leaving him to sit there, perplexed by his actions.
What exactly was he getting at-
In hindsight, with a such a random question revolving around tickling, Dan Heng should've expected the unfolding turn of events, starting with Caelus pouncing on top of him, to the inevitability of Dan Heng being pinned to the floor, struggling under the weight of the other with futile protests. "Don't you dare!" came a hiss through clenched teeth, his hands desperately gripping Caelus' wrists, but Caelus' own hands were already positioned right where they needed to be, the space between Dan Heng's sides and Caelus' fingertips practically nonexistent.
"Oh, and what's the issue?" His tone was sweet, but Dan Heng's ears were not folly to the taste of mischief masked behind that saccharine grin. "I thought you said you weren't ticklish."
"The issue is that you're clearly going against the rules of the game!" He gritted his teeth as Caelus's fingers shifted to just barely pressing a small indent into Dan Heng's skin through the thin fabric of his shirt, resisting the urge to jolt under Caelus' grip.
This did not go unnoticed by Caelus, however, as if he was absorbing every reaction to personally store away, clearly enjoying the situation with a gleam in his eyes. "There's no harm in checking, right?"
"Caelus, n-no!" He inwardly cursed himself for the stutter in his voice, undermining his own facade. It didn't help that Caelus had now added another finger to each side, pestering Dan Heng with sporadic pokes. Normally, the archivist would shrug something like this off, but his sense of pride refused to allow Caelus to break the rules of his own game so nonchalantly. Not to mention the potential repercussions if Caelus did actually find the answer to what he was looking for. Dan Heng would shudder at the thought if not already preoccupied with the incessant jabs to his sides.
"Dan Heng, yes!" The gutturalness to Caelus' voice really added to his already over-the-top impish nature and Dan Heng did not like it one bit. Where did he learn this behavior from?! As if to answer his own question, a brief image of March popped into his head, but his focus soon returned to the situation at hand, as Caelus ripped his hands out of Dan Heng's grip and lunged at the other, all in one swift maneuver.
"W-Wait! Caelus!" His voice nearly cracked in frenzy, legs instinctively curling into his chest to protect his ribs just within reach of Caelus' fingers. He leveraged one arm to push against Caelus' body, while the other arm desperately fought off Caelus' own. "Why are you doing this?!"
Ignoring the question altogether, Caelus quickly backed off, only to send Dan Heng back into a panic at the feeling of a hand closing around his ankle, followed by a swift swipe up the sole of his foot. Though short-lived, the brief sensations were just enough for Dan Heng to uncurl his legs in an attempt to kick at Caelus, only to realize the betrayal of his own reflexes once his upper body was exposed yet again, creating just the perfect opening for Caelus to pounce and claim his prize.
"Caelus!! N-NohohOHOHOhoho!"
Time seemingly slowed for Dan Heng as the archivist did his best to defend himself, but Caelus' actions moved in real time and it wasn't long till his fingers met Dan Heng's ribs, eliciting a screech that was new to the both of them. There was a moment of pause, as if Caelus was registering everything that had just happened, and Dan Heng could have very well taken advantage of the split second of respite, but he did not like the fool he was, practically surrendering himself when Caelus started up again. His legs instinctively curled inwards just like before, but this time, Caelus was there to block him, undisturbed as Caelus made his ribs the center of attention.
"Wait, wait! Caeluhuhuhus! Stop! StaHAHAhahap!"
"Mmmm, I think you were lying in your last answer, Dan Heng," Caelus spoke nonchalantly, as if Dan Heng's frantic laughter wasn't echoing throughout the archive room. "But maybe you can tell me the truth yourself?"
At this point, the true answer to Caelus' query was quite evident, yet there was a sliver of him that went against the grain, willing him to hold onto denial. Maybe his pride took the best of him, or perhaps his own laughter ringing throughout the room had started to dishevel his line of logic; Dan Heng wasn't too sure himself, but those brief thoughts were soon usurped by the sensations at his ribs slowly making their way lateral of his midsection, heading straight for just what Dan Heng feared.
"Wait! Waitwaitwait- wahahahahait!" Gentler touches were all that was needed, enough to send Dan Heng into panic with minimal effort, as he knew their intent full-well. His body arched forward and he flailed his limbs in an attempt to stop Caelus, yet it was like his arms turned to lead in the moment, heavy and powerless to stop the other as all he could really do was plead.
"I think we're about to really find out if Dan Heng is ticklish or not." The tone in his voice was mischievous, triumphant, almost ravenous; it was anything but innocent, which just went to show Dan Heng just how much Caelus was enjoying the moment. He didn't get too much time to ponder on this, however, as Caelus' fingers soon trailed up the side of his midsection, sending Dan Heng's eyes wide as he shook his head.
"GYAHAHA!" was what slipped past his lips at first contact, Caelus making his mark with two fingers digging into each underarm, as if each hand were needles to a balloon, pointed and precise, but their impact was very real, the overloading sensations engulfing Dan Heng in howling laughter as he was unable to deny the inevitable. "OKAY! OKAHAHAY! I-I'M TICKLIHIHIHISH!"
"Hmm? What was that? I can't understand what you're saying."
This bastard.
"YEHEHES! I'M TICKLISH! STAHAHAP!"
Seemingly satisfied with his answer, Caelus brought the tickling to a slow, allowing a slow stream of giggles to flow, before removing his hands from Dan Heng's underarms altogether. "Aww, Dan Heng, you broke the rules of the game." Caelus' words barely registered in his brain and Dan Heng would've shot him a disgruntled frown were he not busy panting from the ordeal.
"Screw off," he hardly managed through heavy breaths, giving Caelus a weak shove so that he could finally sit up again. "Are we done here?"
"Uh, no," Caelus spoke pointedly, hands on his hips. "You still need to ask me one more question."
Dan Heng rolled his eyes, already through with Caelus at this point. Something simple would do, anything to end the game and get Caelus off his back, and just as he was about to speak, an idea popped into his head, prompting Dan Heng to cut himself off at the last moment.
"What was that?" Caelus looked at him expectantly.
"Ah, I had just settled on a question," Dan Heng began, clearing his throat before speaking again, "but Caelus, are you ticklish?" He watched for Caelus' reaction, almost relishing in how his mouth flattened, with the instant shade of red spreading across his face.
"Uh, well-"
"Oh, and remember, there are ways of checking if you're lying or not," Dan Heng flatly reminded him, taking in just how easily flustered Caelus had become, playing right into Dan Heng's hand.
Dan Heng observed as Caelus breathed a sigh, avoiding eye contact as he twiddled his thumbs in his lap. The corner of his mouth nearly twitched into a smile that Dan Heng took effort into stifling, but there was something so satisfying with how easily the tables turned.
With a deep breath, Caelus finally looked Dan Heng in the eyes, speaking in the softest of voices, a stark contrast from his earlier demeanor.
"Yes, I'm ticklish."
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Upon request, today we have the fourth part of our rec list of bottom Louis fics where Louis and Harry are friends who become lovers. If you'd like to check out the previous rec lists, you can find part one here, part two here, and part three here. If you enjoy our rec lists, please be sure to like and reblog this post to help spread the word.
Happy reading!
1) Truth Or Drink | Explicit | 5,548 words
Harry isn’t nervous. Of course he isn’t. He has done much more intimidating things than this. He has had sex with at least 100 men, and a few women along the way, while being filmed and watched by another 20 pairs of eyes. But for some reason the thought of doing this sounds a hundred times worse. He can feel his insides churning and sweat is starting to form on his palms.
Sure, sex is Harry’s job and it has been for as long as he can remember. He doesn’t mind having a crowd of people watching him anymore, and everything is always quite professional. At the beginning things might have been a bit challenging but now it’s almost second nature.
This, though, is more distressing than anything he has ever done before.
2) Incalescent | Explicit | 5,649 words
The onset of heat is something Louis still hasn’t learned to recognize.
3) You Step Where Words Are Written, Delicate Under Your Feet | Mature | 6,495 words
Prompt 513: A fic where Louis gives Harry a footjob over his pants while they're watching TV and Harry finds out he has a thing for Louis' feet.
4) Kiss It Better | Mature | 8,080 words
Harry shakes his head with a light laugh and leans down to kiss him again which Louis happily accepts even if he is a little confused by the reaction. "Baby, not a night has gone by that I haven't thought about you in my bed, naked, and begging for my cock."
Blinking up at him with wide eyes, Louis opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out. While they did flirt a lot over the last few weeks, Harry had never said anything like that. It shocks him as much as it turns him on.
"News to me."
"I won't lie and say I like random hookups or casual sex, but to me this isn't what that is."
Louis swallows thickly, unsure of what to say to that but once again Harry gives him an out.
"So, If you want we can stay up here and I can show you all the things I've thought about doing to you." Another kiss, quick and sweet. "Or, we can go back downstairs and we'll dance all night."
5) To Love Without Reason | Explicit | 8,854 words
“Come on in, soldier,” Louis pats Harry’s chest and walks away, leaving Harry to follow behind.
Harry stands in the living room, looking around at Louis’ dwelling. Family pictures placed high on a shelf, certificates of Louis’ practice, and other trinkets that make Harry entirely too nostalgic.
“I have to warn you,” Louis says as he puts the kettle on, the water droplets from his hair trickling down the golden skin of his back. “The door jams if you lock it so you'll have to leave it ajar.”
Harry acknowledges with a soft hum, too entranced by Louis’ glistening skin to form a coherent reply.
6) I Would Wait Forever (And Ever) | Not Rated | 10,018 words
Louis is brave but has the worst timing in the world, Harry doesn't want to lose his best friend and they just don't communicate enough.
7) If I Saw You Every Day Forever | Mature | 10,685 words
There really should be a statute on the number of dates one can go to because how much longer does Louis have to suffer through this?
A modern AU in which Louis might have accidentally signed up for something he probably shouldn't.
8) Wait Until You're Sure | Explicit | 13,042 words
Prompt 465: Louis and Harry are best friends who made a pact. If neither of them has found love by the time they’re 30, then they’ll get married. It was all laughter and fun until Harry realizes they’re celebrating his 30th birthday and in a few months, Louis is gonna be 30 too. So, he struggles to find someone for Louis to avoid being together, but Louis just keeps rejecting all men Harry introduces to him (because he has feeling for him, of course), which really upsets Harry. They argue about that and Louis says something like “wow, it’s that bad to be with me?,” accepting that Harry simply doesn’t feel the same. Louis moves for a couple of months with another friend and Harry has all this time to understand his feelings, realizing that he loves Louis too and wants to be with him. But when he goes to tell him, Louis is already seeing someone else. So what’s Harry gonna do to get Louis back?
9) Candle Wax & Polaroids On The Hardwood Floor | Explicit | 13,082 words
Prompt 463: Clumsy modern witch Louis AU where he accidentally gives his roommate Harry a love potion and he has a crisis because he thinks he will get in trouble with the law for technically poisoning someone and Harry’s heart eyes aren’t helping.
10) Blackberries And Cherries | Explicit | 13,894 words
Louis is a witch and Harry is his human friend. When Harry needs help focusing on his schoolwork, the obvious solution is to ask Louis for a potion. You could say things don’t go quite right.
11) Bend The Rules | Explicit | 16,823 words
Prompt 588: Lous hires a ‘ghost cooking’ service because his family is worried he’s not eating well and he wants to impress them by showing them what an amazing cook he’s become. The service includes sending a discreet cook to your house and have them get everything ready so that you only serve and take the credit. Problem is, his sisters (can be OCs if that’s more comfortable) get to his flat earlier than planned and the actual cook has to hide in the master bathroom for hours. Louis is mortified. The cook is amused and helps him to clean and well. Gives him a thorough service. Feel free to pick your fave as the cook.
12) Swap Me For Your Shadow | Explicit | 16,829 words
If Louis thought being in love with his best friend was a knife that continually twisted into his heart before, it was nothing compared to when Harry started to go around talking about having fallen for someone else. A 5+1 fic; 5 times Louis has to listen to Harry’s vague confessions of love for his ‘omega friend’ and the 1 time Louis snaps and confesses his love for Harry.
13) Sometimes A Fantasy | Explicit | 18,654 words
There’s nothing to complain about when Harry’s walking around their flat with his cock swinging about, nothing to complain about when Harry’s pressing himself up against Louis’ naked backside when he’s reaching for a mug in their cupboards, and nothing to complain about when Harry’s got his hand firm on Louis’ arse when they’re cuddling on the couch.
So, in reality, it’s really fucking weird, and Louis knows that.
But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like it.
14) Lonely Shadow Dancers | Explicit |20,838 words
“Mm,” Harry’s arms circle him, and their fumbling somehow turns into a cuddle session, “still can’t believe we’re here together.”
Growing up with someone, one tends to become used to another. Used to the mannerisms and personality of them. Used to the changes and the things that stay the same.
Harry hit puberty and sprung up into this cheeky curly flirt of an alpha and Louis still hasn’t found the time to get used to it. His stomach flutters and he bites back a stupid smile and wonders if he ever will.
15) The Mess We Created | Explicit | 21,099 words
An innocent one night stand changed into something more than that.
16) Not Safe For Work | Explicit | 23,295 words
I want to drown myself in Harry’s scent until I smell like him.
“I think I'm open to trying that too. Sounds very good.”
Louis shakes his head a little to get out of the Harry’s-scent-spiral. “Huh?”
“The dish your finger's pointing at. I thought that might be what you’re choosing?”
“Oh. Yeah.”
17) Sweet Like Honey | Explicit | 33,117 words
Weeks of flat shopping with their limited budget with Louis as a librarian aid and Harry as a barista and arguments about whether a balcony or extended bathroom suite were more important (Harry wanted to be able to feel the crisp night’s air and watch the sun set and Louis just wanted to take long bubble baths) led to them stumbling across the perfect fit. A small flat only ten minutes from campus with a cramped but lovely balcony and an included bath.
It’s affordable too… well, sort of. But they always manage. Louis picks up more shifts as an aid, adapting a habit of bringing his Psych textbooks and homework with him to finish in between duties, and later his script so he can quietly practice lines with little distraction.
Harry also increases his number of shifts at the cafe and valiantly endures the nasty customers who for some reason flock to their establishment like moths to a flame.
For a while, it’s enough.
18) Once Burnt, Twice Shy | Explicit | 52,644 words
Louis and Harry are polar opposites in every way. Where Louis is a bestselling author from the city, Harry is a small-town firefighter who's never left his home. Where Louis is spontaneous and spirited, Harry is introverted and calm, never straying from routine. When an ill-fated accident and an exceptionally intelligent tabby bring them together, they are forced to confront their pasts and forge a better beginning for themselves.
Will sparks fly, or will it all go up in flames?
19) Gallery Of Us | Explicit | 55,778 words
Harry knew what he was doing in life, everything laid out in black-and-white, each day pleasantly predictable. Cue lively art student, Louis, trying to find his place. An almost insufferably happy person who sometimes forgets to hide the way they feel meets the person who is diligent enough to notice and determined to make a difference.
20) If You’re Out There (I’ll Find You Somehow) | Explicit | 55,916 words
Harry looks so intensely into Louis’ eyes it’s as though he’s reaching in and touching his very soul. “I never thought… I never… I’ve been searching for so long, Louis, but I never gave up. I couldn’t stop, wouldn’t stop trying,” Harry says, bottom lip trembling as he strokes the backs of Louis’ knuckles. “I just knew that if you were out there, I’d find you somehow.”
21) It’s Golden, Like Daylight | Explicit | 61,496 words
"I actually think you might be onto something.”
Harry’s eyes widened. “You mean…”
Louis nodded. “As crazy and insane as this, this might just solve both of our problems.”
“Are you saying you’re in?” Harry asked.
“I’m in.”
22) Derail The Mind Of Me | Explicit | 77,323 words
Beside the photograph of a gaunt, pale face spattered with blood and lips torn into a Glasgow smile was a bloodied object, crumpled and stained almost to the point of unrecognition. Another photo showed the object shoved into the woman’s mouth. While Harry leaned forward to get a closer look, Louis scrunched up his nose and purposefully kept his gaze locked on his computer screen, refusing to so much as glance at the gruesome images the rest of the team examined.
“What is that?”
Zayn frowned. “Is that a tarot card?”
23) Ghost Note Symphony | Explicit | 96,426 words
Louis is on tour when he first hears about it. It’s all over the news – Harry Styles Attacked By Fan runs in headlines for days. It’s not even just the gossip rags, either. Actual journalists are covering the story. It would have been impossible to avoid hearing about it. Technically, Oli is the one who tells Louis about it, but it’s not exactly being covered up. Harry doesn’t answer Louis’ text asking if he’s alright, but that’s not really surprising. They haven’t spoken for months, and it’s been a lot longer than that since they’ve had a real conversation. The sting of the text going unanswered is still there, less painful than it might have been a few years ago.
It’s not that it’s easy to forget about, exactly. Louis has a whole life outside of One Direction now, though. So Louis goes on with his life, figuring that if Harry was seriously hurt he would have heard about it by now. He might currently be in the same country as Harry, but being on opposite sides of it puts enough distance between them that putting it in the back of his mind is easy. There’s nothing Louis could do, even if he thought Harry might want him to.
That’s why everything that happens next comes as a complete shock to him.
24) Our Endless Numbered Days | Explicit | 120,815 words
“Harry?” whispered Louis, his mouth dry, his nose pressing against the other’s warm skin.
“Mh?” Harry’s humming was gentle, his fingers lightly caressing the younger boy’s arm, his chest steadily rising and falling beneath Louis’ cheek.
A couple of seconds passed, and Louis looked up at him in the darkness of the cave, barely able to make out the expression on his face. When he tried to inhale deeply, his breath hitched. He struggled to find the words to tell Harry what he was thinking about.
Another couple of seconds passed, and Louis listened to the reassuring beating of the prince’s heart beneath his cheek.
He couldn’t.
“Nothing,” he whispered, his voice weak. I think you’re half of my soul.
25) Love Will Tear Us Apart | Mature | 204,151 words
It was only meant to be a one night thing, but when the country goes into lockdown, Louis Tomlinson finds himself stuck in windsor castle, in company of his royal fucking highness, Harry, the prince of England.
Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.
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Robin's Inside the Pizza Plex DCA Romance Fics
These are fics I've started that take place inside Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizza Plex. The call is coming from inside the plex!
A Door You're Unable to Close:
(tag)
My best friend talked me into coming with her as moral support to her little brother's birthday party. I hadn't wanted to go to that stupid birthday party to begin with and now I'm trapped in a video game, a horror video game that might kill me. I thought at the time that it was ironic that a kid named Greg had gone missing in a Chuck-e-Cheese of all places but this is taking things much too far.
Invisible:
There's nothing like working for a corporation in a capitalist society to remind you that you are nothing but furniture and need not be perceived unless needed.
Even the animatronics in this place are treated more human than I am.
At least I'm on the same level as the staff bots… that's a plus? Though usually, people prefer to speak with a staff bot over me, so I suppose 'even' is the lie I tell myself.
I've worked for Fazbear Entertainment at their pizza plex for about a year.
I do a little bit of everything. Cleaning, repair, sales… even security sometimes.
Most of the human workers have been replaced with robots to cut down on employee costs. Sometimes I think I'm the last human working here, but then I remember Vanessa still works here too.
Sometimes I wonder if they just forgot to fire me or tell me I was fired, but I'm still getting paychecks, so… yeah.
The time clock beeped an acknowledgment as I punched in my employee number.
"Attention! Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex is closed! Have a pleasant evening!"
Sighing, I adjusted my bag on my shoulder and took a long swig of my coffee.
The Star Dome (LateNight DayDreams):
An OC named Fey is a new animatronic that has been added to the plex.
Another Daycare Story:
This is another of your reader x Sun/ Moon Pizza Plex daycare stories. We start with a 20-something individual getting a job in the daycare and having to overcome a fear of animatronics. There will be some angst with Moon. Then the romance will begin.
Eventually, we'll hit the events of the game and go through all that fun, but until then, this will be mostly random fluff and angst shenanigans in the loose shape of a story as our main characters fall in love.
Little Assistant:
MC is the assistant to the CEO of Fazbear Entertainment. As Vanessa kidnaps and kills children while attempting to bring Springtrap back to life, MC is forced to clean up the mess and cover up the disappearances. MC is also tasked with keeping an eye on the Daycare attendants, keeping them in line as they are forced to help kidnapping children.
“Did you do it? How do we know if it worked?”
“We’ll have to test out some command code on him. Everything uploaded without issue, but they do have minds of their own. He may put up a fight.”
I wasn’t paying attention to the conversation, wanting as little to do with this as I could get away with. They had already forced me to help with so much, cleaning up all that mess, all that red, covering up the disappearance. Shuddering, I looked through the glass into the daycare beyond. Deep in the dark, I could see two red eyes glaring out at us, furious. I couldn’t blame him. The virus they had activated in the night mode daycare attendant was going to be used for something horrific.
Lost Time:
The reader, already in an established relationship with Sun and Moon, dies and wakes 5 years later in the body of an animatronic.
The pizza plex was rebuilt after the collapse and fire. Due to some miracle, all of the animatronics had survived the disaster and were now back to work, entertaining the general public as though nothing had happened. After everything fell apart, children stopped disappearing, but the missing children were never found. Business was booming, and everything seemed to be better than ever.
With the massive influx of money, Fazbear Entertainment decided to invest in a new animatronic, a drummer for the band, to add to the rock and roll feel of the Glam Rocks. But in the way of all things with Fazbear Entertainment, the acquisition of this animatronic was very confidential. Several none disclosure agreements were signed, and the whole thing was very shady.
None of this mattered to me, of course. I was more worried about my new role in life. Well, it was life in a sense. I had finally woken up after 5 years to find myself strapped to a chair in parts and services, having been turned into an animatronic.
Lost in the Dark:
Working third shift for security wasn’t so bad. I spent the first few hours patrolling the halls of the upper floors, that being what I had been assigned. Then I would spend the rest of the night at the security desk in the daycare, cameras pulled up on the computer screens and keeping an eye on the ‘crazy’ animatronics that inhabited that colourful playground.
6 months of working night shift in the daycare, and I am unfortunate enough to have developed feelings for two clueless robots.
Bad Day:
I stopped with my hand on the door. I had come all this way on my day off and now I wasn't brave enough to push the doors open. Today had been a hard one. A nightmare the night before and some rough conversations had made my insides feel all squishy and tender. All I really wanted to do was lay on the floor and cry but something had brought me here, to the daycare.
Taking Time:
They needed a robotics expert and I needed a job.
I had been between jobs. I had actually just been let go from my last job and was frantically looking for a new one when I had received an email from Faz Bear entertainment. They were looking for a robotics expert to run their parts and services lab. The pay was phenomenal but I would be the only one working in the lab and would be expected to keep the staff bots, animatronics, arcade games and all the automated systems in working order. I didn’t even hesitate a moment before I sent them a reply and agreed to an interview for the following day. Great pay and an entire lab to myself? Yes please.
Why is it Spicy?:
okay so... this is an AU of my Unpleasant Nightmare fic. I started this as a joke for myself but now we're here.
The general idea is the same. Stuck in Security Breach and need to find a way out but Sun and Moon are extra flirty and handsy.
Out of Place:
Fosters and Green is an up and coming robotics company and is the talk of every news station in the world. They haven’t even released their first line of robots yet but people are already clambering to get their hands on a robot made from Foster and Green. They plan on releasing a few household bots that will work as cleaning staff or secretaries but they also plan on releasing a line of child care bots. Why hire a nanny when you can have a live-in one you don’t need to pay.
My designated number is D-375, I have been dubbed Kate by the technicians who ran all of my quality assurance checks.
My dreams of working with a family of my own were quickly dashed. Foster and Green decided that they wanted to place a bot somewhere in the public eye where people could watch it at work and so had partnered with another company who also made robots, though they specialized more in animatronics that were designed for entertainment. The two companies decided to put one Foster and Green’s N-90 models in the daycare center of Fazbear Entertainment’s PizzaPlex to work alongside the child care units that Fazbear Entertainment had created.
Taking Over:
They needed a robotics expert and I needed a job.
I had been between jobs. I had actually just been let go from my last job and was frantically looking for a new one when I had received an email from Faz Bear entertainment. They were looking for a robotics expert to run their parts and services lab. The pay was phenomenal but I would be the only one working in the lab and would be expected to keep the staff bots, animatronics, arcade games and all the automated systems in working order. I didn’t even hesitate a moment before I sent them a reply and agreed to an interview for the following day. Great pay and an entire lab to myself? Yes please.
I was hired on the spot. This wasn't surprising seeing as I had worked in robotics for most of my life and had some hands-on experience with these kinds of animatronics. The AI units that Faz Bear uses would be new to me but I was sure I could figure out the new tech quickly enough.
Unpleasant Nightmare:
My best friend talked me into coming with her as moral support to her little brother's birthday party. I hadn't wanted to go to that stupid birthday party to begin with and now I'm trapped in a computer game, a horror computer game that might kill me. I thought at the time that it was ironic that a kid named Greg had gone missing in a Chuck-e-Cheese of all places but this is taking things much too far.
Some of these won't be finished and some are OLD writing of mine. you have been warned. Please don't let that stop you from reading these and enjoying them <3
#glitter rock#fnaf daycare attendant#fnaf moon#fnaf sun#dca fandom#sun and moon x reader#fnaf sun and moon#dca fanfic#fnaf fanfic#fnaf security breach#glitter rock writing#a door you're unable to close
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Not So Single Mom (Part 2)
Okay, so it's been a while, but as someone who likes to write fics on an actual keyboard, having a finger out of action has been a bit of a pain in the ass (as well as in the digit itself).
We're still not healed, but I can just about bend it and if I press the keys lightly not wince too much at how painful it is to type.
But anyway, pity party aside, I've missed writing and I wanted to get at least one of the fics that I have open on desktop a little nearer to completion so...we have a little part 2 of the pregnant reader (the idea for which comes courtesy of a comment from @avabartlett96).
Part 1 here
“You okay, hun?” asks Melissa, her hand finding your shoulder when she finds you still in your classroom come recess.
You shift in your chair, trying and failing to get comfortable, shrugging off her hand as you do so. “Just…aches and pains,” you say with a wince. At least it’s only a half lie.
“Anything I can do?” she asks, head tilted to the side as she takes you in.
You manage a lopsided smile as you look up at her. “You do more than enough for me.”
She steps close, cupping your face in her hands. “Nonsense. You think of anything, you let me know? ‘Kay?”
You close your eyes as she presses a kiss to your forehead, fists clenching briefly as you take a deep breath to calm yourself.
*
“Girl!”
You turn at Ava’s call. It’s nonspecific, but with your head pressed against the cold, concrete wall as you take deep breaths, fanning yourself with the pile of photocopying you had just collected, you figure you look odd enough that she might just have noticed you.
“You got one hot woman at your beck and call,” is what she follows up with as she approaches. “Let her help relieve some of that tension!”
“AVA!” you hiss back, immediately straightening up. “I’m fine!”
“I know you are,” she smirks. “So go get some!”
“But I’m-“
“Girl, I know what horny looks like and you…”
You scowl up at her, wishing you could deny it.
*
“Help her relieve any of that tension yet?” asks Ava as she reaches for the sugar.
Melissa frowns at the question, eyebrows furrowing as she looks at the other woman. “What?”
“Y/N,” says the Principle.
“She said it was just pregnancy aches,” replies the red head, continuing to stir her coffee.
Ava smirks. “Oh, she achin’ for something alright.”
*
Melissa doesn’t often dwell on many of the things that Ava says, but she dwells on this. Spends a lot of her afternoon thinking about it. If she’s honest, it’s a subject she’s been thinking about for a long time, but you’re both taking things at your pace. She understands that your body is going through a lot of changes, that your feelings are mercurial at best and though she’s often wondered what it might feel like to do more than kiss you, she doesn’t want to push. She may not exactly be known for her patience, but when it comes to you, she can always find some.
Walking to your classroom after the final bell, however, she finds Ava’s words still going round in her head. “Hey,” she smiles from the doorway of your classroom, waiting for you to look up and return her smile before entering. “You wanna come over tonight?” she asks. You’d spent a few nights at home recently, and if she’s honest, she’s missed you. “I could cook? You could relax?”
She watches as you bite your lip, looking torn.
“Talk to me?” she asks, coming to perch on the edge of your desk.
Your cheeks flush and you duck your head.
“Hormones?” asks Melissa, watching as you nod quickly. “Ones that make you not want to cry?”
Again, you nod, your cheeks only becoming a deeper shade of red.
“Ones that…”
“I’m horny all the damn time!” you hiss, missing the way Melissa’s eyes widen at your sudden admission. “And it sucks because I don’t want the first time I have sex with you to be because I can’t control myself thanks to this little freeloader.” Refusing to meet her eyes, you also finally admit what thus far you’ve been too scared to tell her, “And I also don’t want the first time I have sex with you to be when I’m like this…” You gesture down at your ever-growing bump.
“By this, you mean beautiful?” offers the red head, her voice soft and warm.
You shake your head. “I’m not beautiful.”
“You are beautiful,” repeats Melissa, shifting from her perch on your desk to squat down next to you, swivelling your chair so she can look up and meet your eyes. She reaches up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “You are beautiful to me,” she tells you. “Right now, as you are.”
“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve pictured you between my legs, your eyes looking up at me? I won’t even be able to see you face with this speedbump in the way.” You watch as her eyes widen, and gasp. “I said that out loud, didn’t I?”
“Yeah,” she nods, her voice suddenly a little shaky. “And don’t you dare try to take it back.” She rests her hands on your knees, using them to help her stand. She leans back against your desk, wheeling you on your chair to sit between her legs, reaching out until she can rest her hands comfortably on your bump. “First, this little Tesoro is very dear to me so let’s not be calling her names. Second, I’ll wait until you’re ready, but hun, if you’re suffering, let me help.”
You whimper and she leans down to kiss you. The contact is electric for you and without thinking, you fist your hand in her shirt.
She pulls back, surprised at the ferocity. “You need it bad, don’t you?”
In answer, you just pull her in and kiss her again.
“Would you be happier at your place or mine?” she asks, the words whispered against your lips as you take moment to catch your breath.
“Yours is closer,” you breathe, blushing at her raised eyebrow. “Fuck! Sorry! It’s not meant to sound like I’m desperate and anything will do.” You drop your head, finding it easier to speak when you weren’t looking at her kiss bruised lips and flushed face. The way her chest rises and falls rapidly as she catches her breath only serving to distract you further. “I’ve been trying to…you know, take the edge off on my own. It’s only when I think of you that I even get close.”
You feel strong, capable hands cup your cheeks, forcing you to look up and meet her brilliant green eyes. “How about you let me show you what the real live version can do?”
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WINTERDAD AU #1
(part one because this got way too long. this is essentially the plot of an old fic i started back in 2020 and what would've happened of i'd continued it. i might try and write it again one day, perhaps, if i don't give up after 2 chapters. anyway here we go)
- mary parker was a shield agent when she met the winter soldier, both were on a mission. they fought, but never got as far as mortally wounding each other. mary would always slip away. it was like a game. bucky had been kept out the ice for a few weeks at that point, running a long job. but the longer he's out, the more he starts to remember little pieces, who he used to be.
- mary feels pity for him, seeing through the stone cold image hydra forged for him, to the person within. they fight. but then they also talk. they keep seeing each other while bucky scouts. eventually one thing leads to another and they develop a relationship of sorts.
- mary later discovers she's pregnant but bucky never finds out. he's taken back, wiped and put under the ice once more. mary quits her job at shield so she can provide for her kid and keep them safe. knowing full well if anyone in shield or hydra caught wind that she was carrying the winter soldiers child, they'd never be safe.
- she's sad that bucky disappeared again, she knows hydra likely had him wiped and iced again. but she moves on, meeting richard soon after who she tells she's expecting a son, that the father disappeared without a word (technically not a lie) he tells her he'll love him like he's his regardless.
- when her son is born she names him peter james parker (during the few weeks they met, the last time they talked, bucky ended up remembering his first name, mary wanted peter to have at least a piece of him)
- peter ends up looking a LOT like bucky. he has the same shade of dark brown hair, facial structure which shows as he grows. but he has mary's eyes)
- the plane crash was really just an unfortunate incident. peter still goes to live with aunt may and uncle ben when he's seven. and then things go as they usually do in canon. the avengers form, yada yada all that stuff, you know the drill.
- when he's 14 peter is bitten by the radioactive spider. BUT. an important detail here is that due to the expiermentation bucky was subjected to by hydra and the enhancements which altered his genes, some of that, though remaining dormant, passed onto peter. but it didn't really do anything, it was just there. but it did keep him alive after the spider bite. without those enhancements in his blood peter would've died. instead, he gained his powers.
- uncle ben still gets shot, which as usual influences peter to become spider-man. and months after tony still comes along and recruits him to fight in germany. peter does.
- when he briefly faces bucky ("you have a metal arm? that is AWESOME, dude!") neither know so that also goes as normal. bucky is bewhildered by the kid who managed to block a hit with so much force behind it, while also shocked to know that he was just that, a kid.
- now one vastly different thing here is that while the avengers do split for a good year, steve and tony eventually talk and make amends. the avengers reassemble, deciding that they need to put the world before their feud. they're not on super good terms, but they tolerate each other. tony still refuses to forgive bucky.
- homecoming happens during the time where things are still rocky between the avengers so peter still deals with vulture alone. but he does see tony more often, stopping by for lab days to work on his suit among other things, to keep up the "internship" charade. tony grows fond of him, though he doesn't admit it.
its post homecoming where things start to go wrong.
#i wanted to keep mary as peter's mom because in a lot of the few winterdad fics i've read#his mom is always nat for some reason ??? so yeah. mary parker is still his mom. richard isn't his step dad he's the dad that stepped up#part two will probably be done by tomorrow! lmk what you think so far i'd love to hear your thoughts :))#marvel#mcu#marvel cinematic universe#bucky barnes#peter parker#mary parker#winter soldier#the avengers#winterdad#spiderson#marvel au#mcu au#the winterdad au#marvel fanfic#mcu fanfic#oh also keeping the irondad dynamic in there because it adds to the conflict and plot <3
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More in the AU where Elrond and Elros are 16 years old rather than 6 when Sirion is sacked. Tag is "older kidnap fam fic" for previous installments
Elrond wakes up draped over the rump of a horse.
Not, to be clear, his own warhorse. His faithful stallion is being ridden by one of the few remaining warriors of the Gap, the great cavalry of the Noldor, who will be able to keep her seat regardless of what the horse tries.
Elrond isn't initially sure who is riding the horse that he's been set over like a sack of baggage. His arms are stretched out past his head, tied wrists dangling toward the ground, and his ankles are tied as well, tighter than the hobble that he had while walking. He can't see anything but horse flank.
Elrond wriggles around to try and get a better view, and someone notices.
"Lord Maedhros, it seems your guest is awake."
Maedhros pushes down the middle of Elrond's lower back to pin him more surely to the horse. "Lie still. If you fall off while riding in formation you're liable to get stepped on by the next horse, even if the rider wished to avoid you."
"I know how to ride properly."
"Yes, I saw that you were quite skilled when you killed my soldiers, which is why you're staying right there."
"Could I at least sit upright, even if I have to ride behind someone else like an infant?"
"Maybe tomorrow, if you give your word not to escape."
"I'm not stupid enough to try and bargain with you again, after you broke your word about setting us free from the cellar."
"I never said I'd set you free, I said I'd leave the city and wouldn't kill you. Sirion crumbled in the first assault, but I did no more damage after taking you and your brother into custody. If they're smart enough to repair the castle first, everyone should be able to keep warm this winter."
"And if they focus instead on burying their dead, or rebuilding their houses, or rescuing their kidnapped princes?"
"Who knows? But I'm not king of even the Noldor anymore, and the people of Sirion are not my responsibility."
"You would just let them die?" Elrond wanted to glare at the Feanorian, and nearly slipped backwards off the horse as he tried to sit up.
Maedhros caught Elrond deftly by the bound wrists and pulled him back into place. "Next time you do that, I'll let you fall"
"So you don't actually intend to even spare my life."
"I agreed to spare you, not to save you . None here will harm you, but I won't rescue you from consequences of childish stupidity, no more than I will rescue Sirion from winter. If you would rather bash your head open rather than remain my captive, I am not so cruel as to deny you that escape."
Elrond had nothing to say to that topic, as his first retort about more palatable escapes seemed likely just to enrage his captor, as did any question about cutting off hands. "Where's Elros? Was he at least left back in Sirion?" Elrond wanted his brother to be safe, and his people to have a leader with his mother drowned. But he, selfishly, also did to want to be alone with the kinslayers.
"He's here as well, don't worry. Nornmalo has him, and I trust him not to torture a prisoner, despite what it may sound like."
"The moans of pain might be a headache, he drank rather a lot of beer while we were trapped."
Maedhros laughed. "Well, a hungover child soldier. He will at least bother Nornmalo less with questions."
"Could I give him something to soothe the headache? I know a bit of healing."
"No. A headache won't kill him, and he'll get water when we stop same as you."
They stopped only once that day, to water the horses at a stream. Elros was pulled down from the saddle - feet first, luckily, though he still landed in a heap - and his hands untied. Maedhros tossed him a canteen, and said "if you need to piss, now's the best time. You won't get piss all over the horse or your clothes, and we're downstream of the rest of the company."
"My legs are still tied."
"The ropes low enough you should be able to unfasten your belt."
"Are you going to watch me the whole time?"
"Until I find another guard, yes."
Elrond drinks little enough water to avoid the issue, for the moment.
When it's time to ride again, Elrond puts up a fight about having his arms tied again. That just gets Maedhros pinning his face in the dirt while a soldier ties the rope.
Elrond is slung back on the horse like a parcel.
They stop again just before sunset to make camp.
Elrond's hands are untied again for dinner.
The food is simple, waybread and water, and Elrond wonders if he should mention that Men need to eat more than once a day.
Far more exciting than the food though is the figure dropped on the grass next to him, clutching his own canteen and waybread.
"Elros!"
"Elrond! By Ulmo, you're alright!"
"I am, just a bit bruised from the horse. You?"
"Here's something for your healer's notes: do not put people with hangovers upside down for hours. I must have thrown up a dozen times."
"That's terrible! Maybe we can ask-"
At that point the guard tells them to hurry up, they'll be taken to where they're sleeping in ten minutes regardless of how much dinner they've had. Elrond and Elros focus on eating.
They are not, apparently, going to be sleeping near each other. "Too much chance to plot."
The Feanorian soldiers have tents. Some of them share, some of them have their own. A few soldiers have tents obviously designed for two or three that they go into alone.
The horses stolen from Sirion are tied to a picket line. It's loped through the reins, but one person untying the end would let all the horses scatter.
The horses the Feanorians rode into town on are not tied at all. They are loyal old warhorses, and will not flee from orcs in the distance. If wolves do sneak past the guards into the camp, better for the horses to run, and come back at their masters' call when the danger is passed.
Elrond, by contrast, is tied to a tree trunk. His hands are tied in front of him rather than behind, and his legs are unbound. Maedhros's brother - and Elrond learned from a careless remark that their is only the one left - even tossed a blanket over Elrond's legs, to guard against the chill of the night air.
It is the most freedom of movement Elrond has had all day, but that's saying little.
He is stuck sitting up, feeling every root and rock underneath him, unable to reach his hands back to where the rope is tied behind the tree.
Elrond sleeps poorly, stirring at every noise, whether it's a guard on their rounds or an owl hooting its warning.
In the morning, Elrond is given a breakfast of water and waybread again.
Maedhros says "You know it would be suicidal to flee, alone in the wilderness, yes?" and lets Elrond ride behind him sitting up.
Elrond's hands are still bound, and a rope leads passed Maedhros to the saddle horn. If he fell off, he better hope he can keep pace with a cantering horse, or else be dragged on the ground.
Elrond stays on the horse. He figures out his balance well enough to turn, and sees Elros riding similarly.
Thing continue like this for over a week, until they reach Amon Ereb.
#older kidnap fam fic#my fic#silm#silmarillion#Nornmalo means oak friend#he was originally one of Curufin's followers I think; he is more used to defending a fortress than riding long distances#but all the best riders in the Feanorian host were either a) in the Gap during the Bragollach and so a lot of them died in fire#or b) on the riverlands of Ossirand under Amras and so extremely pissed off at Elrond and Elros now#Maedhros trusts /most/ of his soldiers not to torture or kill prisoners against his orders; but he does recall Doriath and Elured and Eluri#better to put the annoying enemy teenagers with someone who is grieving a bit less and so is less likely to strike them in anger#Maedhros is confident in his own self control in the field; he has scheduled to break down in tears three hours after they reach Amon Ereb#in the meantime he ignores all his emotions and doesn't attempt introspection
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I loved your eren fic!! 😁
Can I be greedy and send another request? No pressure!
180. “You didn’t come yet, let me-”
215. “would you rather fuck him/her instead of me?”
With whomever! Again no pressure!
𝙎𝙊𝙈𝙀𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙏𝙊 𝙋𝙍𝙊𝙑𝙀.
𝗔𝗥𝗠𝗜𝗡 𝗔𝗥𝗟𝗘𝗥𝗧 𝗫 𝗔𝗙𝗔𝗕!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥. ⌇ 18+ only, mdni / established relationship, inexperienced!armin / oral + fingering (reader receiving) / mention of unprotected sex + creampie / no pronouns for reader / 1.7k words
you can absolutely send me another one!!!! and i thank you so much for doing so!!! <33 sorry it took me a bit longer—i started it before i got sick but finally managed to be able to finish it!
prompts from this list:
180. “You didn’t come yet, let me-”
215. “would you rather fuck him/her instead of me?”
“Would you rather fuck him instead of me?”
It’s a question that rings out into the otherwise silent air as the two of you lay wrapped in the sheets, catching your breaths and staring up at the blankness of the ceiling. Your brows immediately knit together, and you’re shooting a confused look over at a very sweaty, pink-cheeked Armin who seems to stare off in a solemn haze.
“What?” you question as though he has committed heresy, completely taken aback by the sudden question.
Finally, he looks over at you, expression as neutral as ever; haunted, even, in a way. “Eren. Would you rather fuck him?”
Your mouth cracks open in disbelief as his blue eyes bore into you, seriously searching for an answer. “What? No, I—why would you even ask something like that?” You’re rightfully off-put by your boyfriend’s unexpected query, especially after having just finished taking every last drop of his seed inside of you.
Armin decides to elaborate upon your request. “The way you two joke and talk about sex stuff whenever he’s around, casually agreeing upon things… it seems like you’d have a much better time in his bed than mine.” He shifts to look back up at the ceiling as if already accepting his accusations as truth, and subsequently sealing his fate as your (probably soon to be ex) significant other. “I’m sure he’s better at it, too.”
His feelings of inadequacy stem from many things, but especially so his lack of stamina and finesse when it comes to having sex with you. He harshly compares himself to the likes of his much more experienced best friend, who seems to have the means to keep up in a conversation with you on particular topics, while Armin himself sits flush-faced and quiet in the corner with an embarrassing lack of expertise in the subject.
But you know it’s wrong for him to engage in such a comparison given the fact that you were his very first, and because you have only been intimate a handful of times since the two of you began dating only a few short months ago. Still, he seems so committed to his self-ascribed failure, making your chest ache in the process.
“Armin…” you coo softly, moving to place a hand against his chest and willing his gaze to meet your own. “I don’t wanna be with Eren; I wanna be with you.” It might seem like nothing but a lie, a pleasantry given in pity to lessen his blues, if it weren’t for the absolute sincerity shining in your eyes.
Armin gulps and feels regret creeping up into his throat as he takes in your radiant image. He probably shouldn’t have said such a thing, shouldn’t have insulted you in such a roundabout way, because it all makes him feel even more pathetic in the aftermath.
“I’m laying here right next to you, aren’t I?” you continue, revealing a small smile as your fingers brush at the messy blond hair stuck to his forehead. Armin’s eyes soften as you do so, a wave of appreciation for your love and beauty washing over him. It doesn’t entirely erase his feelings of inadequacy, but it does at least serve to strengthen his resolve somewhat.
“Yeah, you are,” he says, almost as if in total disbelief. That’s when you lean over to kiss him, showing him with your actions rather than words how much it means for you to be here with him instead of another.
He closes his eyes and gives silent thanks for your graciousness, savoring the taste of you on his tongue as a small flame of determination flickers within him. It would be so utterly foolish of him to subtly sabotage everything that he has with you, to not fully appreciate each and every one of the moments that you’ve decided to spend with him. No—Armin wants to be with you more than anything, and he’s going to show you; he’s going to prove that he has what it takes to give you everything you need, no matter how long it takes to get there.
His breath flutters against your lips and then your neck, placing soft but diligent kisses upon the warm plane of your skin. He’s memorized the spots that make you mewl, cataloging them within his mind every time he’s gotten the opportunity to touch you. He files each piece of information away as though every tidbit is as important to remember as his own name, his age, his address.
The sexual learning curve may be taking more time to conquer than he would prefer, but Armin is already much further along than he realizes; yet another side effect of his tendency to not give himself enough credit.
As the kiss deepens, he finds himself climbing back on top of you, separating your legs with his presence as you allow him to take space there. One hand moves down to stroke the soft skin of your inner thigh with a thumb. “I know you didn’t cum,” he says softly but assuredly, lips traveling across your collarbones in a silent, dedicated apology. “Let me…” Armin trails off and kisses ever lower, pushing back the bed sheets until you’re out in the open for him, his head cradled by your thighs once he’s reached his destination between them.
His cheeks shift from pink to red when he spreads your folds with a couple of fingers, warm breath hitting them as he hovers and marvels so closely at your most sensitive parts.
“Armin, you don’t have to—” you’re cut off by a small gasp at the feeling of his tongue gently flicking across your clit. Those sky-blue eyes peer up at you, searching for details, for information, until he closes them and more properly kisses your cunt.
This makes the small of your back begin to arch and his confidence start to grow, but he’ll never let it get to his head—not until he’s learned how to make you writhe and shake and practically committed it to his muscle memory. No, for now, he’ll take what he’s gathered from the last few times you’ve given him the privilege to be between your legs and use it to improve, to show you that he can really be worth all the trouble.
Armin can taste the mixture of his own cum and your arousal on his lips, but that doesn’t stop him; it only drives him forward, makes him flatten his tongue and lick a full stripe up your slit until your fingers are gripping the sheets. Your gentle sighs and moans are both music to his ears and a sign that he’s on the right track, so he keeps kissing, keeps sucking and licking up your slick like he’s got something to prove. Because he does.
“‘S good…” you breathe, a hand reaching down to card through his blonde hair and subconsciously push him closer to your pussy. Armin doesn’t mind; in fact, he welcomes it. Your praise and guidance makes him feel as though he’s fulfilling his duty, thoroughly enjoying it all the while.
He hums against you and continues, fingers softly digging into the skin of your thighs and his hips shifting against the bed a little selfishly. He’s hard again, but this is all about you. If he can’t yet last long enough to make you cum on his cock, he’ll be damn sure to make up for it by getting you to cum like this, no matter how long it takes. So he resists the urge and stops himself from rutting against the bed, instead focusing solely on how delicious it’ll taste when you release on his tongue instead.
And if the sounds of your heavy breathing is any indication, that’ll likely be soon.
Armin doesn’t stop to ask if it feels good like he might feel inclined to do any other time, but rather he decides to keep going and using his mouth in the ways that seem to make you moan the loudest. His tongue rolls over your clit in a way that makes your thighs start wanting to shake, but he knows he could still be doing more, doing something that would have your hand fisting into his hair with pleasure.
So, as something of a gamble, he brings one hand over to carefully push a finger into your soaked hole. After a couple of pumps, he then adds another, trying not to lose too much focus on suckling at your clit in the meantime.
“Oh my god, Armin… right there, d-don’t stop,” you half plead and half demand, grip tightening in his hair and causing him to moan at the feeling. He keeps his rhythm going just as requested, fingertips curling against your walls as you had once instructed him in a previous session, and lips delicately attaching to your clit to make you cry out.
You lightly rock your hips up against him and squeeze your eyes shut as it starts to become too much, the pleasure building and eventually snapping in your gut to send a wave out through your entire body. You tense and convulse beneath him, but Armin holds on tightly, determined to not let go until you’re both satisfied, and he can pull back to admire the slick remnants of his hard work between your thighs and taste it on his tongue.
You’re panting and shivering in the aftermath, and he’s sitting up on his knees, looking over you with his own heavy breath and curious eyes. He’s ignoring his leaking cock and instead silently appraising your level of pleasure and his own usefulness.
“Was that… okay?” he asks, watching your glowing face for signs of approval.
You grin and nod. “Yes, very. More than okay,” you respond without breath, and he wipes his chin clean with the back of his hand and lays down next to you. He’s feeling a little better now that you’ve had a taste of what you always give him.
You break the silence after a good moment of catching your breath. “Just don’t ask me any more stupid questions from now on, alright?” you tease with a smile, and he looks embarrassed yet amused.
“Alright, deal,” he says, draping an arm over you to keep you close.
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