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captainfern · 1 year

Note

Heyyy, I'm literally in love with your work and how you write Graves, so it would be amazing if you'd do him again. Honestly any scenario would be AMAZIIING

Anonymous asked: hope im not to late for requests but the noisy graves thing kinda enlightend me. instead of overstimulating him imagine edging him in kind of a risky place (a closet or shared bed/bathroom idfk lmao) and when he gets to loud after being told not to several times you simply take care of the problem by grabbing him by the hair and pushing him between your legs and caging him in with your thighs or simply just sitting on his face while he desperately tries to fuck the air😎

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Dreams

Commander Phillip Graves x fem!reader

[“Dreams” by Fleetwood Mac]

[18+]

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• summary - your commander can't get enough of the new recruit. you're the new recruit lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 2.5k • warnings - fem!reader, switch!reader and switch!graves, power imbalance? he's your superior so yeah i guess so, handjobs, oral [m!receiving], unprotected piv, praise, degradation kinda, semi-public sex?, oral [f!receiving- from the front and the backkkkkkk lmao], strong language

graves brainrot going wild rn sorry to any grave-antis in my followers

actually i'm not sorry this man is so boyfriend

apart from the fact that yk he's a traitor but i close my eyes and he's so boyfriend

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When your Commander called you into his office late one night, you expected you were going to be disciplined for something you did. You probably missed a target somehow, or you got distracted with a couple of the other shadows and missed a briefing. You couldn't really remember, but you do remember feeling anxiety brewing in the pit of your stomach as you walked towards his office.

But, he wasn't mad at you, or intending to discipline you in the slightest. It was the complete opposite, actually.

You had always had a feeling your Commander favoured you over his other Shadows– lingering looks, gentle touches, whispered affirmations. He tended to guide you a bit more than the other Shadows, and always made sure you were the first in the chopper or plane during evac.

You thought it was because you were new. Maybe. But clearly, it was a lot more than that.

Evident by the way Graves had a hand to the back of your head, pushing your mouth further down onto his cock, throaty moans falling past his lips, blue eyes settled on your face. He watched you take more of him, inching your lips closer to the base, the tight heat of your mouth drawing more moans from him.

He had imagined you like this since the moment you joined the Shadow Company– god, you looked so pretty on your knees, so pretty with your lips wrapped around the girth of his cock, so pretty gagging around him as his tip skimmed the back of your throat.

Graves guided you gently, just like he did on missions, applying a light pressure to the back of your head and moving you closer. He pet your hair with his other hand, muttering between moans about how good you looked and how pretty you were. It made your cunt flutter within your underwear, which were slick against you.

He was so close, cock twitching inside the warmth of your mouth. You could feel him, taste the pre-cum coating your tongue. You hummed around him, and his eyes rolled, hips bucking and forcing the head of his cock against the back of your throat again. You gagged, a string of saliva escaping the corner of your stretched mouth, and Graves moaned your name.

"So close, baby..." He whispered, high off the feeling. His eyes fluttered closed as his climax loomed, and just as he felt it begin to crest, you pulled away from him with a pop of your lips.

Graves let out a guttural groan, bucking his hips. The reddened tip of his cock smeared over your closed lips as you smiled up at him, before you were grabbing his cock and pumping him. You squeezed him around the base, twisted near the tip, and watched as bead after bead of pre-cum dribbled from his slit.

The build-up of his orgasm flared again, and pleasure coursed through his veins as he focussed on the feel of your hand against him. He looked down at you with hooded eyes, watching the movement of your hand, then watching the expression on your face.

"Didn't think you'd be this noisy, Commander." You mused, pumping him faster, wet clicks sounding throughout the office.

Graves responded with a moan, his lips falling apart as he watched you stroke his cock. You placed another chaste kiss to the tip while you worked him with your hand, and his hips chased the contact when you pulled away. He let out a growled fuck.

You tutted. "You have to be quieter than that, sir. You wouldn't want one of your Shadows walking in here, would you?"

Graves choked on a groan. You raised your eyebrows at him, intrigued.

"Oh, you would like that?" You teased, stopping the movement of your hand. Graves gasped out, his cock throbbing heavily in your hand. He could feel his orgasm trickling away again and it made him let out an annoyed whine. You laughed. "You want one of your Shadows to find you like this? Getting jerked off by the new recruit? Acting like a cheap slut desperate for some pussy, aren't you, Commander?

"Oh, fuck–" He moaned quietly. "Don't t-talk to me like tha-ah-at. I'm your Comman– oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, baby, oh my god–"

You slowly started stroking him again, and he was immediately babbling under his breath.

"You wanna come? You have to be quiet." You told him, before wrapping your lips around the tip of his cock while continuing to pump him. He whimpered quietly, holding onto your head, more for support than to guide you. He released muted hisses and deep groans trapped in his throat. You were making him feel so good.

He couldn't help getting louder.

His hisses and groans turned to moans and loud whines as he got closer and closer to orgasm, his head growing dizzy. He could smell your perfume and it was driving him insane.

"Come on, baby, come on–" He moaned loudly, and you couldn't help but sigh as you pulled your mouth and hand away from him and sat up. He let out a loud, desperate plea through a groan, chest heaving as you ran your hand up his abs.

"No, no, baby, m'so– fuck, m'so close–"

"I told you to be quiet, Graves," you said, situating yourself on the edge of his desk. Through glossy eyes, he looked over at you, and his face lit up when you dragged your underwear down your legs and spread them. "So if you're not going to be quiet, I guess I'll have to put your mouth to better use."

You paused, then smiled. "On your knees."

Graves dropped to his knees and shuffled towards you, wrapping his hands around the flesh of your thighs, squeezing and pinching lightly. You grabbed the back of his head, and pushed his face towards your dripping core. He responded with a grateful moan before his mouth was sealing over your clit, and his tongue was moving against it.

You bit your lip to stifle the moans threatening to escape. He worked his tongue against you, warm and rigid, gliding between your folds and circling around and over your clit. You felt him move in a particular pattern, and it took you little over a second to realise what he was doing. He was spelling his name against your clit.

You gripped at his hair, and he groaned into your cunt, muffled.

Between the spelling of Phillip and Graves, he slipped his tongue into your wet hole, licking up the arousal that had pooled while you had sucked him off. He moaned happily, eyes closing as your thighs clamped around him. His cock, hard and leaking painfully against his abdomen, twitched as he swallowed the taste of you. He rutted into the air in time with the thrusts of his tongue. Then, he was dragging the flat of his tongue back up your folds, before spelling Graves across your swollen clit.

Cocky son of a bitch, you thought as your orgasm trembled within you, making your legs clamp heavier around his him. Not that your Commander minded, anyway, considering he moaned desperately each time your leg muscles flexed around his head.

"M'gonna come," you whispered, keeping him trapped between your legs. "Open your mouth and take it all, Commander, go on–"

He did as he was told with a content hum, trailing his tongue back down your folds before circling your dripping hole. Graves licked inside slowly as you came around his tongue, your back arching and eyes rolling. Your orgasm hit you like a train as he fucked you through it, tongue lapping up as much he could, the rest dribbling down his chin. You released your thighs from around him, but he didn't move.

Graves continued to lick into your sopping cunt, moaning quietly to himself as he did so. You let out a breathy moan, your grip tightening in his blond locks. The feeling made him groan, and he finally detached from you with a furrow in his brows, his entire lower face slick with his saliva and your arousal.

"Still desperate for it, are you?" You smiled down at him, before he was getting to his feet and closing the distance.

He slammed his mouth to yours, invading yours with his tongue. You tasted yourself as he licked into your mouth, teeth clashing as he pulled you closer to him with his hands to the small of your back. He ground you down onto his throbbing cock, your slick cunt sliding against him, making him groan into your mouth. The head of his cock, glistening with pre-cum and saliva, dragged between your folds, spreading your arousal against you. You mewled out as, with one last swipe of his tongue against yours, he pulled away.

"S'enough of that," he grumbled, his eyes flickering away from a submissive kind of desperate to a, well, Commander kind of desperate. "Turn around."

You did as you were told with a smile, locking eyes with him the entire time you hopped off the desk and proceeded to bend over it, peering at him over you shoulder. He grunted, slotting his hips to your arse, rubbing his cock lightly against your entrance. He grabbed a handful of your arse with his free hand and kneaded the flesh. He let go, and brought his hand back down with a solid smack.

It was loud, and made your body flare hot.

You went to moan, but you were cut off as Graves thrusted into you in one heavy movement, pulling the air from your chest and making you choke on your pleasured gasp. You could only breath out shakily as he withdrew his cock and then pushed into you again. He grabbed your hips, fucking you back onto him, the sound of skin on skin echoing through his office.

"You had your fun, didn't you, baby?" He asked, bringing one hand down to knead the flesh of your arse. You braced for another smack, but it didn't come. Yet.

You nodded, whimpering. "Yeah–"

Graves brought his hand down onto your arse cheek hard again, and this time, you released a moan of his name. He chuckled behind you, soothing your stinging flesh with his fingers.

"Yeah, you had fun teasing me?" He mused, slamming his fat cock into you, pushing you further and further against the desk. You moaned in response, and he chuckled darkly again. "I could tell, baby. This pussy was fucking soaked for me. Absolutely fucking soaked."

Both of Graves' hands found your hips again and fucked you back onto him. He curled some of his body over you, and you could feel his solid warmth over your back. You soon felt his lips at the curve of your neck, tongue swiping over your bra strap.

"God, such a tight pussy, sucking me in so good, baby," he whispered in your ear, hips rocking against your arse, cock heavy inside you. "Been thinking of this since you arrived, you know that? Been wanting to feel you n' taste you since you first reported to me."

You moaned, cheek pressed against the cold desk, arms scrambling to keep you grounded against the sleek wood.

"Good girl, you like that? You like your Commander thinking about this pretty, wet cunt?" Graves teased, and you moaned again. He placed kisses along your shoulder, and then up your neck, before skimming his lips along the shell of your ear. "Tha's right, baby. I came all over my sheets thinking about this pussy. Made such a mess thinkin' about you."

His accent was growing stronger. You were panting against the desk, whispers of his name and rank falling past your lips as he rutted into you. The tip of his cock hit that spot inside you every time, and you wondered why you didn't let him fuck you sooner.

He groaned in your ear, the sound made you throb around him.

"M'so close, baby. Want you to come 'round me. You can do that, can't you?"

You nodded against the desk because you were so close too– your orgasm building tight in your abdomen, your legs trembling, knees knocking against the front of the desk. You let out a string of whines and whimpers, your clit throbbing.

"Come for me," Graves whispered as his thrusts gradually became more desperate. "Come for me like a good girl. Want to feel this pretty cunt squeeze 'round me, baby."

With one last heavy thrust of his cock to that spongey spot inside you, you came around him.

"Commander." You mewled as you clenched, milking his cock as your orgasm rattled through you. Your cunt leaked around him, arousal squelching loudly, wetness running down the insides of your thighs where he spread you open.

Graves moaned, rutting into you, chasing his high. You were so wet around him, so warm and tight. He screwed his eyes shut, leaning back so he could drive deeper into you, clutching at your hips and squeezing the soft flesh. He let out a moan of your name, followed by deep grunts amongst his laboured breaths.

He groaned again. "You gonna let me come inside, baby? You gonna let me fill this pretty pussy?"

You couldn't respond, brain turning to mush. You whimpered at him, hoping he could see you trying to nod.

"Yeah, tha's it, take it, fucking take what I give you," he whispered. "Take my cock... tha's it, baby, good girl."

He came inside you, filling you with a moan of your name. He thrusted further, stuffing you full, making you whine out at him to slow down. He did, lazily rutting his cock in and out, some of his seed dropping down your thighs, making you shiver. He pulled out, then pushed you further up the desk until your feet were barely touching the ground.

He crouched behind you, and you mewled as you felt him spread your folds with his middle finger and forefinger, revealing your fluttering hole, leaking with the heady mixture of both your cum. You heard him groan, before you felt his tongue swipe against you, pushing into your cunt and curling.

You caught a loud moan in your throat. "Graves, what–"

He licked his spend from you, also pushing more in with each thrust of his tongue. His face against the curve of your arse, he grumbled against your soft skin, and your body was quick to grow hot again. He spent a good minute or so behind you, groping your arse cheeks, rubbing your thighs, before standing back up with a satisfied smirk on his face.

He gently turned you around and wrapped his arms around you, sinking the both of you to the floor in front of his desk.

Graves placed a kiss to your temple. "Y'alright, doll?"

You hummed tiredly. "Mhm."

He chuckled quietly, placing another kiss to the top of your head. "You want to sleep?"

"Mhm."

"Come on, I'll take you back to my room."

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here’s a gif of warren just cause he’s so fine

AHHHH

that is all

#captainfern #captainfernsalutes #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #fem reader #phillip graves #graves cod #graves smut #graves call of duty #graves x reader #phillip graves x reader #cod #captain'sfleetwood #cod smut

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adams-angels · 8 months

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If you have the time ofc do you thing you can write a husk X fem reader pretty please like she was sad and he praised her and wrapped his wings around them while they fuck AH IM BLUSHING HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY🤭🤭

♦️of course I can try! I'm not a writer so I might write Husk all wrong and I'm so sorry if this isn't what you imagined! But still I hope you enjoy!♥️

💖 Please send me requests! Send me your own headcanons! I will draw! I'm obsessed rn!💖

Smut below the cut! Minors dni

Today was hard. Trying to be redeemed is hard! Who knew this?! You sure as hell wouldn't of signed up to his dumb hotel if you'd known this. Everything today went wrong and you're no closer at being heaven worth as you were before you started.

You walk into the hotel, slamming open the door. "Ugh." Heading straight to the bar where good ol' friendly Husk is. With a scowl on your face you slump into the bar stool. "Usual, Huskie." You request.

The cat like overlord watched you the whole way. Unimpressed. "Bit early for that don't you think?" His deep voice rumbled. "Listen, your the bartender and I'm the patron so booze me up." You demand, slamming your hand on the bar.

He pours you a drink, placing it down in front of you. You lick your lip and go to pick it up before he snatches it away and downs it. "Hey, what the hell!?" "What?" "You just drank my fucking drink?!" Your voice broke, it was all getting to much. "Give me a fucking drink, Husk!" "Tell me what's wrong first." "What?! What the hell kinda service is this?!" You yell. "Fuck you! Dumb cat, bird, fucking casino dick!" You push yourself away from the bar before storming upstairs to your bedroom. Wiping away any tears that escaped on the way.

You enter your room slamming the door shut like a child sulking. The noise can be heard throughout the hotel. Husk rolls his eyes and heads to the stairs, Charlie sees him on the way. "What was th-" Husk raises his hand to Charlie. "I'm on it."

There's a knock at your door. You wiped your eyes and sniffed. "Go away, Charlie." The voice behind the door speaks "Not Charlie." You look at the door in confusion and frustration. You look over in the mirror at your vanity table and try wiping off any running mascara. "What do you want?" You ask, trying to hold back tears. "Let me in. Let's talk." You groan. Why does he have to care? Does he care? Or is this just something he can bring up later.

You walk over to the door and open in before quick turning back into your room and sitting on your bed with your back to him. "Are you crying?" Husk asks sincerely. "No." You reply. He heads towards you, stretching out his wings and arms as he does. "No, of course not. I mean, why would you? Only nothing is going as you planned."

You sniffed, wiping your nose with your sleeve. "Why is it so hard?" You asked, you know he wasn't going to have the answer you wanted. "You thought this would be easy? Please. You were sent to hell for a reason. You think you can just add a couple please and thank yous and you'd be up there? Come on, man." A man with words. "No, I know I wasn't going to be easy but ... Whatever." You mumble.

He puts his arm over your shoulder bringing you closer. You sigh deeply, resting your head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't of .. y'know." He tuts and looks down at you. "Look, at you." He lift up your chin. "Apologising. Real redemption like." You chuckle lightly. "Shut up, Huskie."

"I hate it when you call me that." He wraps his arms around you lifting you onto his lap. His wings surround the both of you. "You know, I know something that might cheer you up." His deep voice like a melody to your eyes. "hmm, how's that?" He glances down at his crotch pursing his lip. "You're so lame." You chuckle. He kisses your collar bone. "Hm, you love it."

～⁠♡✧⁠｡ I really hope you enjoyed! I'm not a writer by any means but I appreciate any support I receive so thank you for reading! ｡✧⁠♡～⁠

You slid yourself down to unbuckle his belt, he grabs your legs as he stands slightly to help you pull down his pants. His already hard member springing out. "Oh~!" You purr, brushing your fingers against his length causing him to pant. His wing twitches at your touch.

"you looked so sad." He brushes a loose stand of hair behind your ear. "I feel sad.." you pouted. "But I'll make you feel better." He told you, adjusting your body, lining your entrance with his cock. Gently pushing you down, your tightness envelopes him. "F-fuck~"

Carefully, he bounces you on his member. Cuddling as he fucks you, his wings wrapped around you both, protecting you like a dome. He spends the time fucking you tenderly, whispering sweet nothings in your ear and peppering your neck and shoulders with kisses. "You're so tight, y/n."

His hips start stuttering as he feels his release coming, moving faster. Grunting with your moans. He adjusts you in such away that hits your g-spot perfectly, resulting a deep gutteral moan escapes from you. He holds you down as he thrust into finishing inside of you, cum leaking out of your cunt. You both take a moment to catch your breath. "Happy now?" He asks. "Yes." You reply.

#hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin husk #husk x reader #hazbin husk x reader #hazbin hotel husk x reader

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yeeterthek33per · 1 year

Text

In Your Head (And Out Of Your Heart) (Steph Catley x Caitlin Foord x Reader)

A/n requested

Also, I promise I've got others lined up. There was just a wave of Stephy and Cait lined up in my requests, and I'm just doing first come, first served rn 😅

Summary: Moments for the trio, complications, expectations, and satisfactory temptations. or all the times everybody but the three of you realise you love them a little more than friends do.

Sleek muscular lines run up the outside of her calves, defining themselves with every strain of the muscular legs belonging to the sweet and bubbly Australian.

Apparently, facing the treadmills away from the wall so that one could see the whole gym when doing their runs was what the interior designers wanted.

It also meant anyone doing hip thrusts was in your direct line of sight, facing off to the side.

The way her shorts ride up slightly, showing off toned thighs, was another problem.

You shake your head a little.

Why were you ogling... again..

Steph's your best friend. You don't want to make it awkward. Sure, all friends called each other hot and stuff, but they definitely don't check each other out in attempted subtlety.

The soft grunts as she lifts up the bar permeate through the music in your left ear leaving your cheeks to darken significantly.

Of course, in the midst of that, you make the mistake of taking a small sip from your water bottle whilst mid run.

Steph let's the weight settle back onto the ground away from her, but in the process of stretching out again, her shirt lifts slightly, revealing a sliver of the soft, newly tanned skin you'd been imagining feeling under your fingertips for months on end.

Water gets caught halfway down your throat as your breath hitches and with that a coughing fit that makes you end up in a piled heap on the ground.

A concerned hand patting your back, helping you regain your breathing, grabs your attention.

It's a familiar hand that you immediately recognise as belonging to the other call for your affection.

If your cheeks weren't already bright red from exertion and nearly dying, they would've darkened further at your treadmill buddy having been the one to spot you on the ground.

Though given the amount of racket you've just made, drawing attention from the whole squad and their trainers, Caitlin isn't the only one now watching you with a concerned look.

"You alright, Dahl?"

You nod, accepting the hand up from the brunette, brushing yourself off quickly.

"Fine, just water went down the wrong hole." You joke mildly.

A smile tugging at the corner of Caitlin's lips makes your stomach warm, and you have to fight every urge to run away in embarrassment as it quickly morphs into a smirk.

"Maybe don't drink water mid stride next time, cutie."

With an affectionate roll of your eyes, you quickly return to the treadmill once again, shooting the onlooking blue eyed striker a reassuring smile as she watches you return to position with a careful gaze, though doing so makes your heart beat a little faster in your chest.

With that, you resort to getting lost in thought instead of so blatantly staring.

You have to get your feelings under control and fast.

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"Do you think she notices?"

Steph's head perks up from it's position resting on her propped up hand.

"What?"

Beth gestures to your shaking form, body rattling with laughter as you talk with your teammates during breakfast.

"Y/n."

"Does she notice what?"

Steph's confused look is met with a cynical one from the blonde.

"Does she notice it when you both give her 'fuck me' eyes?"

Caitlin just about spits out her food across from them, coughing to avoid choking, and then swallowing.

"What the fuck are you on about?"

Beth scoffs.

"Please, you both know exactly what I'm talking about. Steph, you were staring at the girl for exactly one minute and thirty two seconds before I had to call your attention away just then and Caitlin, don't act like you weren't ogling the poor girl while she was relying on you as her spotter when she was doing her squat sets yesterday."

Steph's face goes mildly pink as she shakes her head.

"Yeah, no. There's no 'fuck me' eyes. At all. I'm happily engaged to Dean. Beffy, I have no idea what you're seeing here."

"Yeah, Beth, this is weird, even for you. I'm happy as I am with Lia."

"You guys... seriously?"

They both nod, Steph quickly changing the subject with a final glare at Beth so she doesn't protest for the rest of the meal.

They both finish up their food swiftly, taking off separately.

Beth groans, sliding her hand down her face. This was gonna be harder than she thought. There was no way she'd be able to get one of you to admit your feelings, let alone all three of you, by herself. She needed help.

And she knew just who to ask.

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"No."

"But I haven't even-"

The captain holds up her hand, silencing the englishwoman.

"I'm not getting involved with whatever you've got planned."

"But Kimmy!"

The striker whines, latching onto the older woman hoping she'll give in to the puppy dog eyes.

"Beth-"

"I need help getting Y/n, Cait and Stephy to admit they're in love with each other."

That makes Kim's brows raise.

"Hell no. I'm not getting involved in other people's love lives. That's a definite fucking no. Also what makes you so confident in this information anyways?"

"You mean aside from Y/n nearly breaking something tripping on the treadmill yesterday after watching Stephy do her hip thrusts? Or Caitlin being the first one by her side?"

Assuming her power pose, Kim gives her a sceptical look.

"You mean when she was drinking water and choked? Or when Caitlin, the closest person to her, checked on her?"

Beth groans.

"No! It's not just that. It's the constant staring at each other. You should have seen the eyes Y/n was giving Cait in the locker room the other day. Not to mention the constant teasing from Cait as well. Steph is a like magnet when it comes to those two. The serious heart eyes she had this morning during breakfast were so ridiculously telling. I-"

Kim sighs and puts her hand again, pointing a finger at the striker.

"No, Beth, that's enough of that, honestly, I will not be getting involved in that, and you certainly shouldn't either. If I see you interfering at all."

It's a silent threat, but Beth doesn't need to hear it. Unfortunately, much like a team mother would, Kim would very much ground her. And would very much enforce it, too.

Okay, so maybe Kim wasn't her best option. She'd try Viv, but there's almost 100% chance she'd say no. Steph would normally be her next best option but obviously that's out of the question.

So she resigns to sighing and nodding, leaving the Arsenal captain alone to do her stretches.

Maybe Jen?

--------------------------

"No, absolutely not."

"But Jen, it's imperative we fix this issue, otherwise, all we'll be stuck with is longing looks for the rest of their lives."

"Beth, there's no issue to fix. Steph is getting married, and Caitlin is in a relationship. You're forgetting Lia is our friend too."

Beth paused for a moment. Jen's right. She hadn't even thought of the repercussions this would have on Lia. She was one of her oldest friends, too. God, she was an ass.

But still, she'd be an ever bigger ass if she couldn't help her friends out a little, right?

"Beffy, I know what you're thinking. But the answer is no. It's not worth it. It'll just create more drama than it's worth, I won't entertain the idea. It's gonna hurt someone, and what, then?"

"I know, I know. But you've gotta admit, there's something there, though, isn't there?"

Jen sighs softly.

"If even there might be an astronomical possibility that they're all magically single and available to mingle, and also completely fine with this. There's an off chance that they might work, given they're all so obviously at least girl crushing a little. But even then, it would still hurt someone."

Her shoulder's deflate, and Jen wraps her arm around her.

"Come on, Beth, just let it go. If it's meant to be, they'll work themselves out. Leave it alone. Now, come on, help me with this cleaning."

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Steph's eyes trail across the pitch, taking but a few mere milliseconds to analyse your next run before sending a cross your way.

The perfectly timed lead allows for a perfectly timed header and a perfectly timed goal, equalising in just the second last minute of reg time.

The crowd erupts, and you bounce over to the defender, arms wrapping tightly around the woman in elation.

"Let's go, babygirl!"

Her hands settle underneath your legs, holding tightly so as to not drop you while your hands hold her face, forehead pressing to hers as you yell victoriously.

The final was Arsenal's for the taking now, thanks to your brilliant header.

The moment only serves to heighten your energy, and you drop from her grip only to jump into the waiting arms of your favourite striker.

"That's my girl!"

Your grin widens, and you shake her shoulders in excitement. Normally, you wouldn't brush aside that sort of comment, but it's in the middle of a game, so it's swept away to never be heard from again.

Returning to positions, Man United get the game underway once more, now downtrodden that they have to get another goal too.

Your heart races when you're given but another opportunity in the second stoppage minute. Or really, it's not much of an opportunity, more like a hail mary.

The ball has left your boot in an attempt at a last-minute miracle to give Arsenal the win.

From nearly fifty yards out, the ball sails far over the defensive line, passing a caught off guard Earps, who you'd spotted off her line just moments ago.

When it ricochets off the woodwork and into the net, you can hardly believe it, dropping to your knees in disbelief that it actually worked.

The noise from the crowd is almost unbearable.

Bodies pile onto yours, forcing you onto the pitch. Screaming and cheers from your teammates leave you matching their excitement and disbelief in your limited wiggles underneath the pile of Arsenal players.

The pile eventually pulls off you, and with several hugs and hair ruffles, you immediately feel the tightest hug between your two favourite people. You throw an arm up at the crowd from between Steph and Caitlin, both of them singing your praises into your ear as loud as they can.

The crowd cheers louder at your gesture, the feelings wash over you finally.

Relief. Happiness. Mild disbelief still.

"You fucking beautiful woman!"

"That's our fucking girl right here, baby!"

You grin up at the two women, squeezing both of them tightly and running back to position with one final wave to the crowd.

Two pairs of eyes watching the interaction exchange looks.

The moment play is restarted, the whistle blows for full time, leaving you and your teammates screaming in celebration.

Steph is the first one to you, jumping into your arms, wrapping tightly around you, and legs wrapping around your waist as you quickly grab them to avoid dropping her.

Your heart beats hard and fast, not sure whether it's the win or Steph's hands grabbing your face and kissing your forehead that does it.

A part of you wants to assume it's the win.

A part of you knows it's both.

That doesn't stop you from relishing in the moment, though, thoroughly enjoying her hands on you, which are now squishing your cheeks adorably.

The moment is gone the moment she leaves your arms, but it doesn't last long.

Caitlin is quick to pile on you next, fingers threading through your hair. While unintentional, it makes you buzz just that little bit more.

When her grin makes your whole body warm, you realise at that moment just how screwed you are.

And if anyone were to ask about your blush at them both kissing your cheeks in a pose for a photo with the trophy, well, you'd just deny it to the ends of the Earth.

--------------------------

Steph doesn't think about the little things too often. Moments here and there that aren't even so much as waved off, they're that insignificant.

Small touches. Friendly hugs. Little gifts. Every little detail that she normally ignores.

She doesn't think about all the times she's hugged you just that little bit tighter than she does with Beth or Lia.

She doesn't think about the bag of her favourite lollies being left in her cubby after practice that was most definitely planted by you.

She doesn't think about the way her eyes drift to you naturally, watching your form move across the pitch gracefully.

She doesn't think about the way her mood always brightens when she sees you, even if you'd already seen each other five times that day.

She doesn't think about the kiss she leaves on your forehead or cheek when you say hello or goodbye.

Except she does.

At least now that Beth's pointed it out to her.

Truth is, as much as she denied it that day at breakfast, her eyes were locked on you in every spare moment.

Realising just how much you actually invaded her thoughts and senses, well...

It's a startling revelation.

It scares the crap out of her.

She loves Dean and would do anything for the man she's planning to marry. He's a sweetheart. He keeps her on her toes. He takes care of her better than all of her previous partners ever could.

It's a startling revelation when she realises how much time she spends with you and Caitlin over him.

Caitlin.

That one comes out of left field. It definitely worries her, though, her best friend entering her trail of thought, too. That one catches her a little more off guard than she likes.

So, she leaves that one for another time, shoving it back into what was supposed to be a deadbolt box of intrusive thoughts in her head.

She hates how much you invade her head.

When she thinks back on what started it, she can't pinpoint it. Just that you'd always been the sweetest friend to her. Friend. She hates that her stomach turns at the term.

It'd always been you to comfort her in moments of doubt. It was always you she wanted beside her when victory came the team's way.

Steph feels helpless when she realises how much she actually cares for you.

She feels helpless when she realises how screwed she truly is.

"Babe, dinner's ready!"

Dean's voice brings her out of her head, echoing from the kitchen of their shared flat in London.

As she makes her way over to the table, the plate already set out for her, a small kiss pressed into the bearded cheek of her fiance, her mind wanders back again.

What the hell is she gonna do?

--------------------------

Beth doesn't leave it alone in the end. She's determined to at least get something out of you if she can't get something out of Steph or Caitlin.

Though with Kim now watching her like a hawk during training, she has to be subtle about it, so getting you alone during a night out without Kim or Jen is a little too difficult, especially since you're glued to Caitlin and Steph's sides constantly.

Viv being there is out of the question, so she had to come up with an excuse to get you out with her, on your own.

"N/n pleeeease, I need you to come with me, shopping."

You groan into the phone in annoyance at the blonde. You'd just wanted to enjoy your day off without the stress of having to socialise like an adult.

"Why can't you go on your own? Or with literally anyone else but me? Steph or Viv, or literally any one of the 23 other women in our squad?"

"Because you've got the day off, Steph is busy, Viv is out of the question because I'm shopping for a gift for her, and I want it to be a surprise and you're the only other one that knows her almost as good as I do."

You can hear the pout from your side of the line, and when you sigh softly into the receiver, Beth knows she's won.

"Fine, but I really wanna be back home as soon as possible. I have some serious me time planned, and I wanna get back to that as soon as possible."

"Gross Y/n, I know you're single and all but-:

"Shut the fuck up and get over here."

It doesn't take her long to come kidnap you and drag you around to nearly every store in the shopping centre, and it's a miracle you're only stopped once for pictures.

"Beth, why are we here? Why do you need my opinion on this? Why am I even here?"

Apparently, her final chosen store was a lingerie store. It also means she's trying to get you to purchase something as well. Why? You don't know.

"Because you're the next best judge for me. Also, you need to get out. You've been way too busy lately and need to do some shopping for you and for you only."

"For god sakes, I'm literally you're only single friend, I'd be the worst judge for this."

Punctuating your sentence with dropping into your seat once again with a tired groan.

"Also, I know I've been way too busy, that's why I was at home in the first place. Now, can we please hurry up and go, Beffy?"

You whine, now getting fidgety under the pile of bags you've been made to carry around for her.

Tossing another pair back over the curtain to you, telling you to toss her the next pair, she chuckles at your exasperation.

She's been stalling as long as she can to try and get the opportunity to talk to you but hasn't found the right words this whole time. She knows if she doesn't ask soon, she'll up losing her only chance.

"Just give me a couple more minutes to try these on, and I'll take you to go get some nando's?"

Huffing softly, knowing she's got you with the offer of food, you sit back down again, waiting for her to finish browsing.

"Fine, but hurry up or you'll be dealing with hangry Y/n, too."

"Got it, Sweetpea. Now, pick out a set, too."

Your loud groan of annoyance makes her laugh.

It's only in the car on the way home that she finally manages to ask.

"So, Y/n, I've been noticing some things over the past couple months."

Swallowing the mouthful of chicken, you look over at her suspiciously.

"And what would that be?"

"You've been giving Stephy and Cait eyes."

Turning your head, you roll your eyes at the same time, though there's a sting in your eyes as you fight back the oncoming rush of emotion.

"Beth, you're gonna have to be specific. I kinda have to look at them to converse with them. Ya know, best friends and all."

Giving emphasis to the word friends, you're hoping she'll let what you know she's about to say go. Of course, this is Beth, and of course, that's not happening.

"N/n, that's not what I meant, and you know it."

It's said a little softer this time, with the hopes you don't scare away entirely.

"It's not happening, Beffy. There's nothing there, and nothing will ever be there."

Her heart breaks for you at the crack in your voice and she can see tears peaking out of the corners of your eyes.

She pulls over in an isolated carpark, so she can fully look at you.

"Doesn't mean it hurts any less."

"If it means I don't lose them, then I don't care how much it may or may not hurt. I can't lose them."

You've fully curled up in her passenger seat now, legs pressed to your chest as you pick at the cuticles on your fingers.

"I can't do it. I can't let them see it."

She sighs, resigning to letting you work this out for now. She knows you're stubborn. She knows you won't let her intervene under any circumstance.

"I'm serious, Beffy. You can't tell them, they can't know about this. I won't lose them."

"I won't tell them. If that's what you want, I won't tell them. They still deserve to know, though. It's not fair on you or them to keep this bottled up. It'll kill you in the end if you don't tell someone."

"So be it... I'll figure something out. Maybe take some time away. The only way to get over someone is to get under someone else, right?"

It's said in half joking tone, but Beth knows otherwise. She's seen how you coped with your previous relationship ending. You nearly killed your reputation entirely with the constant one night stands.

How you cope is up to you, and she still respects you as a person, but she also wants you to be happy, both with yourself and your life.

She never judged you. She never seriously complained at having to come get you every other night for three weeks straight every time you called her for a lift home.

She did get sick of it though, and she finally managed to get you to leave that behind fairly swiftly after your position on the team was threatened by the incessant news articles with leaked images of you with a new girl on your arm in every single one.

The others hadn't entirely seen that side of you, you pushing them away to avoid scaring them away too.

Beth was the only one who didn't take your attempts at pushing her away.

"Just, take it easy, alright? Don't let it risk your career as well. I'm not letting that happen again. You're my family, sweet girl."

She punctuates the sentence by pulling you to hug her over the console, and you let her, letting the tears fall finally, holding your best friend tightly.

"It's gonna be okay, Y/n. It might not feel like it, but you'll make it out okay eventually."

Would you?

--------------------------

Caitlin, to her credit, doesn't acknowledge what Beth had said until much later. It takes a whole two months until she even realises her heart had been elsewhere.

Until her current relationship with Lia becomes a past one.

When she realises she should feel more devastated than she does.

When she realises that she feels way more comfortable about the breakup than she should.

Her thoughts don't fully drift to you until she feels her heart race when you hug her after she tells you about the breakup.

It's not that she never thought about you, really. It's more that she never realised she was thinking about you a lot more than was acceptable.

The gifts she'd get you, whether it be fresh coffee in the morning or even flowers after your previous breakup just a year ago.

The small cheeks kisses she'd get from you in return that make her cheeks flush a little.

She begins to wonder in that moment.

Had you noticed the way her heart sped up a little when you hugged her, ear pressed to her chest as you both embraced?

Had you noticed the pink hue her face took on when you smiled that gorgeous smile that only appears when you're genuinely happy?

Had Lia noticed any of this?

It makes her feel both guilty but also flustered at the thought of being so dimwittingly obvious.

In the final conversation between her and her ex, Lia had cited her lack of presence in the relationship.

"You're just not in it anymore, Caitlin. I can't be with you when you aren't here, with me."

She does feel guilty for it. Knows how crap Lia must have felt not having her girlfriend there for her, but she knows it's for the best.

What she does notice is your sudden absence. She sees a lot less of you than she'd like. You disappear from rooms that she's in. If you're forced to be in the room, you're seated far from her and Steph.

Training is much the same, only interacting to keep it professional. It makes her heart ache more than anything. Had she done something? Was she too telling?

Her stomach drops at the thought.

What if you knew? What if she was too obvious?

What if-

"Hey, you alright Cait?"

Steph's hand on her shoulder is comforting, and it sends soft tingles through her skin beneath the fabric of the training jersey.

She has to avoid jerking away from the feeling.

"Fine. Do you..."

She pauses, trying to work out if she wants to even bring Steph into this.

"Is there something up with Y/n?"

Steph hesitates at that, an unsure look on her face.

"Have you noticed it too? She's been avoiding us a bit. It's like that time a year ago. When she..."

Caitlin nods, understanding saturated on her face now.

"Maybe something's happened?"

"It's weird, though. It feels like it's just us she's avoiding."

Steph nibbles at her lower lip nervously, looking around the pitch. She notices, though, that they're not the only ones keeping a close eye on you. Beth is looking over to you every so often, concern laced in her gaze and the way her eyes follow your movements.

It makes sense, though. You'd always been closest with the blonde striker. You'd clicked the moment you'd joined Arsenal four years ago, right before the other two aussies had.

"It's probably just something going on. She'll work it out. She's got Beth looking after her, it seems."

The striker nods and moves to continue the drills, though the worry doesn't ebb at all.

In fact, it only increases the closer to the world cup they get. What were you going to do once the World Cup came around? Maybe they would have to keep an eye on you themselves.

--------------------------

Steph, it turns out, is right. It is just them you're avoiding.

It's the why that has them worried.

Their best friend, their favourite person, was now actively avoiding their presence.

You seemed fine chatting away to everyone else in camp. In fact, they'd found you in cuddle piles with some of the youngins more often than not. Something you'd do with Steph and Caitlin without hesitation normally.

She finds herself missing you more often than not, her heart wrenching itself at the thought of them losing you now.

She thinks back on what she'd realised just a month previously.

It becomes clear that she just has to ignore it if she wants things to go back to normal.

Plus, it has to go away. It's already had her second guessing her own relationship. And Dean's starting to notice her hesitation, too. It has to stop. If not for her sake, then for his and yours as well.

It's just a silly little crush. She has Dean, and she has Caitlin and you as friends. Well, only if she can work out why you're avoiding them.

Meanwhile, you're doing everything you can to push down the pain of not having properly spoken to Caitlin and Steph.

It hurts like all hell to not be near them but you need the time to settle before the opening game, which is creeping ever closer with every hour you spend working out what the fuck you're gonna do.

You can't avoid them forever. You aren't sleeping properly anymore and it's affecting your performance.

Beth has been messaging you constantly, checking up on you, but she hasn't been able to see you at all, given she's still in London doing her rehab. Though she does promise to fly over for a few days to come see you and the girls when she can, knowing the other England girls would want to see her as well.

Unfortunately, she knows you a little too well as well, and she calls out the tiredness in your voice one day, it's 9am and you've not trained for the day, so she knows you have no excuse to be tired yet.

You brush her off, but the mild scolding you get in return is enough to have you spilling the beans.

"Just not sleeping too well is all. I'm fine, Beffy. I'm just adjusting to the environment again. It's been a while since we've been in camp."

"You and I both know that's not the reason. How are coping over there? And be honest with me. I have my sources."

Rolling your eyes slightly, you huff down the phone.

"Your sources need to mind their own business. And I'm fine, I'm serious. I'm taking my time and everything, just like you said."

"I didn't mean to explicitly ignore them altogether either. Steph's worried about you. She's already messaged me asking if you're alright and that you'd been acting weird even before international break started."

"Shit."

"Caitlin, too. Said you've been distant but doesn't wanna scare you away. Y/n, please, for the sake of your sanity and theirs. Just talk to them."

"Beth...."

"I'm serious lovey, you need to talk to them, even if you don't outright say, 'I'm in love with you both', just tell them you're dealing with feelings at the moment. They're missing their best friend, not just you missing them here."

There's a soft knock on your door that grabs your attention.

"Look, I'll think about it-"

"No. Talk to them. I'm serious. I can't play buffer when I'm not there. You need to talk to them. Not me."

"Alright, I'll do it at some point. I have to go, someone's at the door."

"Y/n-"

"Love you, bye."

You hang up with a soft growl of frustration, the knocks on the door getting more persistent now.

"For the love of- I'm coming, calm down!"

Swinging open the door, you're met with a sheepish looking Steph and Caitlin.

Not who you're expecting. But at the same time...

"What's up?"

You keep it calm, not wanting to totally panic now that the exact people you were avoiding are at your door.

"Can we talk?"

Shuffling your feet slightly, you step aside, gesturing for them to come in.

They stand there awkwardly for a minute before you walk up to them, poking Steph in the shoulder lightly with a small smile.

"Stop being weird, y'all can sit down ya know."

A slight smile tugs at her lips and they both chuckle softly, conceding to sit on the edge of the single bed while you pull up the chair, resting one foot on the set, knee pressed up to your chest.

"So what's up?"

They exchange a look for a moment.

"We were hoping you'd tell us that."

Feigning ignorance, you tilt your head slightly.

"About...?"

Steph sees right through you though, a raised brow in your direction.

"You know what about. You haven't spoken a word to us since before we even left london. What's going on? Is something happening?"

You scratch at the back of your neck slightly, head ducking to avoid eye contact that you know will probably mess you up in trying to not confess your undying love.

"Just a small thing... it's not really major. I just figured I had to deal with it on my own for a bit."

"And that includes completely avoiding us and only us?"

Caitlin's words have a bit of bite now, frustration leaking through.

Swallowing softly, you look up at them.

"It's not- You guys know me better than the others, figured if I avoided you both, it would be easier to avoid having a conversation about it."

Steph moves from her spot towards you, kneeling to take your hands, which are now propping up your head on both knees.

"Talk to us Sweetheart, what's going on in that head of yours?"

Feeling tears well up in your eyes, you tilt your head back slightly, not wanting them to streak down your face in front of them.

It hurts so bad. You want to tell them, but you can't risk it.

What you don't see but hear is Caitlin moving to crouch by your side, hand resting on your leg, concerned look making it's way onto her features.

"Talk to us darlin', we just want our friend back."

There it is, the word you hate so much. It makes your stomach drop, and the tears flow freely down your cheeks. Looking down at them, you shake your head.

"I can't tell you that."

A shaky breath wracks your chest and you turn your head away, avoiding the worried blue and brown eyes of the women in front of you.

A hand settles on your chin, bringing you back to look at them.

"Why not? You know you can tell us anything. Please, we just want to make you're alright."

The feeling of their hands on you is overwhelming. Between your heart and your head, everything is racing and feels so heavy.

Standing abruptly, you step back away from them both, moving away from their outstretched hands when they reach for you.

"I just can't."

Cutting Caitlin off before she can say anything else, you move over to the door, opening it.

"Just please leave. I can work it out on my own. I can't tell you just yet, alright? I love you both, but I need to get my head straight before I can talk about it. I'll be fine, just... please...."

Sighing softly, Steph moves towards the door, but not before cupping your cheek softly and kissing your forehead.

"We're here for you. Whenever you feel like talking. Don't forget that."

You nod softly, and she steps out the door.

Caitlin does the same, hand lingering a little longer on your shoulder, though, squeezing softly.

There's something in her eyes you don't quite recognise, but you don't question it as she she leaves, muttering a soft goodbye to you.

Shutting the door behind them, your form slides down the wooden panel, sitting knees to your chest as you rest your head on your knees, listening as their footsteps echo further down the hallway in synchronized steps.

You are such a coward.

Why didn't you just tell them?

Everything would be so much easier.

It would hurt too much to lose them, though.

They'd hate you forever.

You'd ruin everything.

The thoughts running through your head are loud, and they don't leave room for much else, so you do the only you know to try and calm yourself.

You pull out your phone, dialling Beth's number and wait with bated breath.

The moment she picks up, its like it all just blurts out at once.

"Hello?" It's said in a tired voice.

"I couldn't do it!" Choked sobs from your end immediately make the blonde shoot up from her spot in bed, her girlfriends arm suddenly moved from its position around her waist.

"What? Y/n, talk to me."

"I tried to tell them, and I just broke down and told them to leave! They're gonna hate me!"

There's a concerned hand on her arm from a half asleep Viv, and she gives her an apologetic look, mouthing your name to her.

"Oh sweet girl, they could never hate you. God they lovd you way too much to hate you."

"That's the problem. They'll never love me like that. Not the way I do. They'll hate me if I tell them. It's basically a lose-lose situation either way."

It's loud enough that the dutchie hears it from her position behind the englishwoman, and her brows furrow. When had this occurred?

"Babe, what is she talking about?"

"Uhhhh.. gimme a minute." She turns back to the phone.

"Alright, it's okay, you couldn't tell them. I need you to take a deep breath for me, okay? You're gonna send yourself into a serious hyperventilation if you don't breathe for me, alright?"

You take a moment to let your chest muscles relax, trying to keep them from constricting in your chest too much.

It doesn't quite work, though, and everything just comes crashing down around you, your sobs just becoming harder.

"I c-cant. It hurts!"

Shit.

"That's okay, I want you to do something for me, okay? Put a hand to your chest for me."

Doing so, you set down the phone, putting it on speaker, knowing the drill by now, having done this many times before.

"Five things you can see?"

Squinting up into the now dark room you scan the place, trying to focus on the various items in the darkness.

"Uh, c-curtains, a chair.... my bed, a pile of clothing... myself in the standing mirror."

"Good, that's it. Four things you can hear."

"You, Viv, my pulse in my ears, the cleaner down the hallway."

"Good, three things you can feel."

Swallowing lightly, you rest your head against the cool wood of the door, allowing it to ground you a little better.

"Cold, the carpet is cold. The wood of the door. Sweaty, and snotty. I feel gross."

Ignoring you joking softly, she continues.

"Two things you can smell, sweets."

Taking one more shaky breath, your pulsd starts to lessen off from its incessant beating in your eardrums.

"Uh, carpet cleaner and Steph's perfume."

"That's it, one more. One thing you can taste."

"The peanut butter cup I ate earlier."

"There you go, take a few more breaths for me."

"Someone want to explain whats going on now?"

Viv's voice sounds from your phones speaker, and you sigh softly. Now another person probably knows.

You hear some muttering over the line followed by a small hum.

"Ah, so you're finally admitting it then?"

Huh?

"Wha-"

"It was kind of obvious, really. You really weren't subtle about it."

Of course, she's right. Who were you kidding? It was so blatanly obvious. It was painful to anyone observing it. You couldn't imagine what the other two might have seen.

"I can tell what you're thinking, sweetheart. As obvious as it is to the rest of us, those two knuckleheads have no clue. Thats on them for not noticing you're struggling."

"That's the problem. They know something up. They came to my room to work out why I was avoiding them, Beffy. They're gonna work it out sooner or later, and I don't think I wanna be stuck around them if they do. I don't want to think about having to witness that. The disgust on their faces because they're own best friend is in love with both of them."

On the other side of the line, Beth and Viv exchange a look, Beth sighs softly, her partners fingers carding through her hair, helping relieve the stress headache she can already feel coming on.

"Love, you need to tell them. I know you're struggling. They could never hate you or be disgusted by you. They love you. And they just need to realise it."

"You and I both know that's not true, though."

The frustration bubbling up in Beth's chest has it spilling from her lips before she can really stop herself.

"It is. You're just too blind to see it. Those girls are obsessed with you. The love in their eyes for you is honestly kind of sickeningly sweet. Too bad you're all too dumb to see it, though. It's so damn obvious to everyone but you. You literally just need to talk to them, please, for the sake of your mental health and ours. Talk. To. Them."

"Okay? Even if that were remotely true. Steph's getting married. There's no way in the world she'd even consider leaving that behind. The man treats her better than I ever could. We're just better off as friends. It needs to stay that way."

"Y/n-"

"No, Beth, I'm done with this. Look. I have to go. I'll talk to you later."

Beths protests are cut off by the click of you hanging up.

Even if she was right, so were you. Steph wouldn't leave Dean. She loves him far too much. He's her safest option, and she knows it.

Caitlin wad a whole other story.

Sure, she's single now. But what makes her any more available to you than Steph? She's still your friend. There's no way she'd want you the way you want them.

Letting your head hit the door once more, you sigh, wondering how the hell you'd fix what you're already damaging.

--------------------------

It starts off slowly. She doesn't even realise she's doing it. Little things here and there.

Picking at the little issues she finds.

Poking and prodding at the soft spots, pushing buttons she wouldn't normally push.

Apparently, it's pretty easy to start fights when you know what buttons to push.

Why? She has no clue.

In her head, though. It's staring her right in the face.

The little comparisons she makes.

You'd never get upset over her leaving her boots in a heaped pile beside the door.

Your cooking was always so much better whenever she went over to your place.

You'd never have left her to find travel home on her own after a World Cup.

In fact, you'd actively made sure she had a ride home, her reassuring (lies) left you feeling relieved that she wouldn't be on her own after the exit the Matildas took at the World Cup.

Whatever it was that had you avoiding them, you'd figured out how to deter it. Returning to conversing with the two brunettes like nothing had happened.

It was a little unsettling how much she noticed you putting on a mask with them.

As hard as you'd tried to fake being fine, she could read you like an open book. Or at least to a fair extent.

For one, your smile never quite reached your eyes, save for the one or two times of victory during the games. The most honest one you give is the win over France.

It was another thing she noticed. She found herself breathing a little easier with you by her side, even with a shell of a smile.

She doesn't push you, though. Not wanting to scare you away again.

Caitlin was very much of the same opinion. Even though you'd stopped avoiding them, you still weren't your usual cheery sunshiney self around them.

The striker doesn't bring it up, though. Only encouraging you with silent smiles of encouragement and occasional soft brushes of her hand against your back, shoulder, or arm when she's next to you.

So Steph does the same. Seeing you both tense but also relax under their, although gentle, not so subtle ministrations.

In the early hours of another chaos filled weekday, mainly filled with silent frustration built up between her and Dean. The latter not knowing what's going on with his Fiancee, he eventually has to poke and prod her enough to spill it.

Though, stubborn as the Australian is, she doesn't give too much, only snapping that she's fine and to let it go.

It sparks an argument that ends up with him storming out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

It started over a simple question over that nights pumpkin cous cous salad.

It takes her but five minutes of seething to realise what she's starting and why.

She feels sick to her stomach.

She was sabotaging her relationship with Dean.

And for what? A silly crush on her friend?

What the hell is she doing?

It's in the early hours of the evening that she gets a text from Dean saying he's at a friend's place for the night and that she needs to cool down and work out what her problem is before he'll return home.

With a defeated sigh, she sends him a sincere apology, telling him she was just frustrated at everything lately and to take the time he needs and that she would work on herself in the meantime.

Not that she does, really. Apparently, she doesn't learn her lesson, instead pushing down the already bottle necked emotions she's experiencing.

She knows it'll blow up in her face eventually. But what can she do? Admit she's secretly in love with you and destroy an already sinking ship of a relationship?

Probably.

But why do that when can sabotage ever having a more peaceful break up.

It seems like she's doom spiralling at this point.

It was a petty fight that blew up. Not that uncommon or that bad that it would suggest either of them should be ready to give up on everything they worked for together.

But that's the thing.

It's taken until she's blown up at him to realise how much they're fighting for it here. All of that pressure to be together. To work out.

To be the perfect it couple.

To want to work out.

It feels like they're both constantly giving 110% but when does the relief come? When do they get their due release. When does it get easier?

She'd thought love was supposed to be easy between two people. For couples to know each other. To read each other without even really trying.

Yet here he was, struggling to realise his own fiancee was falling for another woman.

And that she was letting it happen.

Like an idiot.

The more she ruminates, the more she sees the signs herself.

She's been pulling away from him more and more. Avoiding talking about you, unlike before when she'd bring you up at least once a day to him. Always eager to gush about her best friend like a teenager.

Now, even the remote mention of you leaves twists in her guts, and she has to try and subtly change the subject without letting on that she's hopelessly not in love with him anymore.

Oh.

She's loves Dean.

Right?

No.

Yes.

She loves him.

But she's not in love with him.

Not anymore.

It scares her.

He's always been her safety blanket.

But maybe that's the issue.

He was too comfortable. Too much of a safety blanket. Shielding her from what she should have been acknowledging this entire time.

Maybe. Just maybe.

She's been in love with you this whole time.

That's what scares her the most.

And now that she's finally realising it, she realises there's a conversation to be had.

And feelings she needs to communicate. Even if it hurts both of them. Because in the end, it'll hurt worse if she tries to fight it anymore than she already has. She's already hurting Dean too much by leading him on like this. She can't take it anymore, she has to tell him.

Any fairytale story would tell you that it went surprisingly well. That Dean says he knew all along. That he knew Steph was secretly gay and had been waiting for her to tell him so he could comfort her and encourage her to go for the girl. To go for you. To finally acknowledge that those lingering stares from you might mean something.

Unfortunately, this isn't a fairytale.

And he doesn't take it well.

In fact, he's pretty furious when she timidly brings it up.

She doesn't blame him though.

"Are you fucking serious right now, Steph?"

She winces at that.

"You want to ruin what we have because of that bitch?"

Anger flares up in her chest at that, and she shoots to her feet suddenly, coming to your aid despite you being blissfully unaware and not present for this.

Yes she fucked up but he has no right to call you that.

"Don't fucking call her that. This isn't her fault. She didn't do anything wrong. Yell at me, blame me, call me the bitch but do not insult her. Ever."

He chuckles darkly.

"I should have fucking known. How did I not see it? We've been fighting an uphill battle this whole time. All we do is argue, argue, argue at this point. And you don't even try anymore. Fuck, you had a go at me over pasta the other week. You've been finding excuses to insult everything I do. Everything I've achieved. Apparently, I can't even get dinner right anymore. Nothing is good enough for you. Now I know you've just been comparing me to your teammate this whole time."

Her head falls at that.

He's right.

She's been the worst partner to him. There's no excuse.

"Now I know that you've just been lying to me this entire time. And by the looks of it, yourself too."

The following silence as she tries to gather her words only serves to tick him off more.

"Fuck you Stephanie. I hope she treats you well."

The slam of the front door as he grabs his packed luggage and walks out the door with it, taking the last of the relationship with him, makes her collapse back onto the couch.

The tears, the frustration, the anger, at herself more than anything for letting it get this bad. All of it just crashes down on her and for the first time in a long time, she let's her emotions take over and she just cries.

Grieving the loss of a relationship doomed from the start. Grieving the major fuck up on her part.

Crying because she knows it's gone now.

Crying because even if she does end up with you. She's lost a friend in the man she once thought she loved. And that's on her. She knows that.

For now, though, she allows herself to cry it out, knowing the acceptance will take a while to come before she can fully move on from that.

--------------------------

Giggling as you shove Caitlin lightly, her arms tightly wrapping around you and wiping her sweaty forehead all over your face, you blush as she presses a kiss to your cheek with a small wink as she jogs off to the locker room, you following behind with a shake of the head.

It seems you'd finally started to let go a bit. With Caitlin now doing everything in her power to get you to smile daily, you start to let your guard down at your own behest more and more.

It seems easier, though, considering the sudden icyness from a certain defender that has you being pushed into the arms of the striker instead, literally.

It feels like she's latching onto you every minute she can. You can feel the stares from the other side of the training grounds. Feel the burning stare as she watches you with her best friend. The one she's now also trying to grapple whether or not she's falling for too.

You don't pay it much mind during training, but you do attempt to pull Steph out of whatever has her this down suddenly.

Leaving her little notes of encouragement after particularly gruelling sessions where Jonas had let his frustration out pretty badly on her after some major mistakes on her part.

Making sure she's always hydrating during the particularly warmer sessions.

Making sure she's been eating correctly by leaving her homecooked meals on top of her car when she goes to leave for the day.

Making sure she knows you're there even though she never stopped knowing that in the first place.

She'd tried pushing you away to sort everything out, but in the end, you make it a little difficult with the loving you're unknowingly (or maybe knowingly, she doesn't know) giving her. Even in a time when she's trying to make it clear, she wants to be alone.

You and Caitlin don't let her, though.

The forward always grabs the girl by the arm to pair up for training, forcing her to chat way about what's been going on.

She doesn't tell her that she's harbouring feelings. She does tell her that her and Dean have broken up though.

That was a shock to the striker.

She'd thought the woman was perfectly happy, but it seems everything was just bubbling away under the surface.

Caitlin does feel a little guilty for being happy about it, knowing the girl is going through heartbreak and all she can selfishly think about is how she's single now too.

She tells the forward not to tell anyone for now, not wanting to affect the rest of the team with more drama than what usually occurs. Even you, much to the younger brunettes protests.

She doesn't tell you that session.

In fact, it takes her a whole month before you manage to break her walls down enough again to spill the filthy secret she's been harbouring.

"Oh, Steph, I'm so sorry."

Your hug after she tells you is warm. Warmer than she'd realised. The feeling of your arms around her brings a surprising amount of comfort for something that, although she was still grieving, was mostly over with the thought that it's over, that's that.

"S'fine, it was a mess anyways. Both of us were struggling to keep it civil in the end. It was my fault anyway. I just stopped loving him and refused to acknowledge it for so long. It blew up on me."

"Doesn't mean it doesn't hurt either. You're allowed to be upset about it. Sometimes, we can't control how we feel, Stephy."

But oh how right you were.

Despite her scrambling to lock down her feelings and keep her heart from latching itself onto you, it had done so with an eagerness to rival Katie in a no rules match. (Which after a couple weary tackles, had to be vetoed by Jonas and the medical staff).

"I know, jus' can't not feel guilty. I treated him like shit towards the end."

"Steph, from what you've told me, he only fired right back, too. Think about it. He got pissed when you tried to communicate that something needed to change. Maybe it hit a little closer to home for him, too."

What?

Wait a minute.

Oh god.

It wasn't entirely her fault.

It all makes sense now.

That's all it takes for her to finally pick up her phone again to check social media.

And what do you know. He's suddenly got a new girl on his arm, not even a month later.

Now she's pissed. She has every right to be.

Why, you ask?

The new girl on his arm was the clerk at his gym that he ran. The one that he said was only being friendly when Steph got mad about her being flirty.

That asshole.

You can see the thought process play out in her facial expressions, from the moment of realisation to the reaction to it.

"That lying cheating dick."

The evidence?

'Happy Six month anniversary baby'

One title on one post.

She feels so much pressure on her chest drop off with the discovery. Despite the anger, she feels freer than before. The crushing weight of the breakup is now firmly off of her shoulders, and she feels like she can breathe again.

Well, now she can let it all go and not feel guilty about wanting to move on.

Now, all she has to do is work everything else out, too.

"Oh god, he didn't."

Your face is one of concern, and frankly, she just about laughs, the ridiculousness of the situation almost bubbling over. So when she does laugh, you only look more concerned for the brunette.

"He did. I've never felt more relieved, to be honest with you. I felt so damn guilty for ending it the way things did. Turns out he's been screwing his work admin for the past six months. I hope that dick is happy. Those two are perfect for each other."

Despite the situation, you laugh with her, her arm slips around your shoulders.

"So I'm ready to get over it, dunno 'bout you, but I feel like celebrating."

"Ice cream and movie night."

"Absolutely, mind if I let Cait come too?"

"You better."

She grins at the smile that crosses your lips at the mention of the striker.

--------------------------

"Oh my god, I can not believe she let him do that. I swear these chicks are so stupid romance movies."

You groan out at the main character once again, falling for lover boys' false apologies, and Steph and Caitlin chuckle from either side of you, ceramic bowls in hand.

"Babe, it's a romance movie. What do you expect? It's gonna be cheesy and stupid."

Despite your cheeks flushing in the half lit up darkened lounge room in your house, you shake your head.

"Damn, if only she actually knew how to be treated, she might not go back to his dumb butt every time. Woman needs to learn to love herself more."

The pair exchange an amused look over your head, your form slumped into the cushions as they sit sideways on the lounger, arms holding up their heads as they watch you criticise the movie more and more.

What you miss is the shared look of affection over your head, a silent agreement as they both move to press themselves onto either side of you.

Cut back to this afternoon after training.

The pair of them had been chatting away, Steph having told Caitlin about your movie night when the striker got a look on her face. Like something clicked.

"So we were thinking- what? What's that look?"

"I just remembered something."

Steph gestures for the girl to continue.

"So.. when were you planning on telling me you ARE in love with Y/n."

Her cheeks flush bright red, and she stumbles over an explanation.

"It's still so fresh.. a-and I wasn't entirely sure and..."

The laugh that escapes the forward has her a little confused.

"Thank god. I thought I was imagining things. You're not the only one, Stephy. She's pretty great, huh?"

"You're not... I don't know, upset that I love her too?"

"Hell no. Steph. Puddin'. Babe. You can't control how you feel and if I'm being honest. I don't mind at all. Like, I kind of like that you do."

Caitlin's cheeks warm, and she looks down, scuffing her boots slightly against the turf.

There's a small pause as Steph observes the forward. She looks around and sees that everyone else has already made their way back towards the change rooms.

"Caitlin..."

The girl looks up again, finding dilated pupils staring back at her and she whines at the look.

"Steph..."

"Can I...-"

"Please."

That's all the indication the older woman needs to tug her into a harsh kiss, hands finding her cheeks.

Hands tangling in her hair make her whimper into the kiss, and a flush creeps up her neck to her ears as their lips slot together easily.

It feels so much softer, but also more passionate than anything she'd ever shared with that piece of garbage.

She practically melts when she feels the other woman's tongue lazily drag across her lower lip, knees just about buckling as the hands move to slip under the edge of her shirt, trailing across the skin of her stomach.

Eventually, they both pull away, gasping and air intermingling their puffed breaths.

"Oh. My. God."

Caitlin chuckles, hands moving back to settle on the woman's jawline.

"You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that."

Both of them are pressed tightly to one another, allowing their shared warmth to wrap around them, cocooning them for but a few short moments.

"I kept denying how much I realised I was falling for you both."

"Both?"

The hopeful glint in the striker's eye makes her melt further into her, lips grazing hers once again.

"You both made it so ridiculously hard not to. You've always cared more than anyone. And you do so much more than you realise for me, too."

The grin that crosses the strikers face as she leans her forehead against Stephs is mirrored by said woman.

"I may or may not have fallen for you both, too."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"What do you say we go put the girl out of her misery, too? I hate to say it, but we totally missed the way she's been pining this whole time."

"That's an ego boost and a half."

"Like you need it."

An affectionate eye roll.

"Shush you."

And she slots their lips together again once more before sneaking back to the locker room.

The feeling of the two of them cuddling into suddenly makes you jump slightly, two hands resting on your stomach, shirt riding up slightly underneath their touch.

"I-... can I help you both? Are you okay?"

Both of their eyes on you makes you shrink in on yourself a little, worried something might be wrong.

"Perfectly fine gorgeous."

"Doing pretty, thanks, baby."

Your cheeks are glowing beneath the light of the television and both of them are still watching you intently.

Swallowing softly, you turn to meet Steph's eye.

"I- Can I tell you two something?"

"Of you can, babygirl."

A nod of affirmation from the striker has you nervously picking at your cuticles.

"It's about why I was avoiding you both back in camp. I was... nervous. I didn't want you to know something so I was trying not to spill it."

A soft chuckle from Steph.

"We know, sweetheart, that part was obvious."

Your cheeks flush a little more.

"And, I might have realised something and I've been scared to say anything. Because you're both my friends, and I don't wanna ruin what we have-"

"We know gorgeous."

"We could tell. You weren't overly subtle. It just took us a while to see it."

You duck your head a little, but a set of two fingers lifts it up by your chin again to face the older of the two.

Immediately, you whimper, spotting the way her eyes have darkened significantly.

"Kiss me. Please."

"With pleasure sweet girl."

And so they do. First Steph, claiming your bottom lip between hers, sucking at it, tugging it and letting it go with a soft pop, before pressing back to you again, hand sliding up under the fabric of your tshirt.

A pair of hands gently pulls you away from the defender, and another pair of soft lips quickly takes your own again, leaving you whimpering into it.

Parting your lips at the now hasty swipe of Caitlins tongue, she slips it into your mouth, moulding with your own, leaving you a forever breathless, whimpering mess. Literal putty beneath their fingertips.

Pulling away enough to speak, your chest rises and falls harshly, but you're beaten to it by the forward.

"We've fallen for you as well, sweet girl. We put off acknowledging it for so long, I don't know about you, but I dont feel like wasting anymore time. Be ours?"

Without a single moment of hesitation, you nod eagerly, quickly pulling Steph back into you, allowing your hands to rest on the nape of her neck and as Caitlin's hands trail up to the hemline of your sports bra, you subconsciously breath a sigh of relief, feeling the weight of several tonne trucks fall off your shoulders again.

They loved you too.

You could cry right now.

But you dont. Instead, you focus on the way they touch you like they'll never get to feel you ever again. You focus on the way they kiss you, stealing your breath away with every lock of their lips to yours.

In the end, you're so glad you listened to Beth for once. And she's very glad when she's you walk into training sporting new hickeys and two hands in your own, followed by mild regret now that you're all disgustingly in love, too.

Deep down, she loves it, though. She loves you, and she's glad you've finally got what you deserve.

--------------------------

She's done, but I'm delirious, so I'll come back and edit tomorrow 😭

#woso #woso imagine #woso imagines #woso x reader #caitlin foord imagine #caitlin foord imagines #caitlin foord x reader #steph catley imagine #steph catley imagines #steph catley x reader

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nackrosor · 10 months

Text

~"On My Terms"~

Sub!Simon 'Ghost' Riley x dom!Reader

warnings/tags: 18+, smut, p*rn without plot, mªsturbation (male receiving), sub/bottom Ghost, sub/dom dynamic, edging, orgasm delay, post-orgasm torture, established relationship, change of power dynamics, kinkyyy

summary: for once, you want to be the one in control.

word count: 4,1k

Simon’s hand is warm on your bare shoulder, his thumb gently rubbing it, drawing patterns on your skin.

His dark tired eyes are set on the tv screen, his back resting against the bedpost, arm draped around your body holding you close beside him. He's relaxing on the mattress after a long day on the field.

He has no wounds, is not ill, and is not ailing in any particular area; he is simply physically fatigued.

His exhaustion is evident from the way his head is inclined to the side as it lays on the wooden board, or from the way his long trunk-like legs stretch straight ahead, stiff, on the mattress.He hasn't even taken off his shoes yet, and he's been lying in the same position for about 30 minutes since returning home. He hasn't said anything to you since he marched in, not even when you offered to make him something to eat; he simply shook his head and beckoned you closer with a flick of his hand. And you immediately joined him on the bed, letting him pull you closer to his side, as if your presence and the warmth of your body would help him relax, as if you were the only thing he needed right now.

You've been staring at the passing images on the television with a passive gaze the entire time, your head resting on his firm chest, one of your arms loosely wrapped around his abdomen in a cosy side-hug.

From the moment you recognised the first signs of his fatigue, a thought has been pestering your mind, one that - truth be told - has recently become an unshakable idea of yours. You've been looking forward to a night like this. Waiting for him to be in such a tired state so that you could more easily… well… make him… or rather, be…

You shiver a little against him as you clear your throat; your abrupt movement causes him to take a deeper breath and tighten his arm around you, but he doesn't say anything.

You're losing your composure by simply fantasising about such an idea. You can't take it anymore. This is your opportunity. Your golden chance to finally satisfy that urge, that craving you've been putting off for as long as you and Simon have been together. Yes, because... having someone like Ghost as a lover doesn't really afford someone like you - obviously smaller in stature and weaker in strength - as much freedom in bed as you'd like. It's not that you're dissatisfied; in that aspect, you've never been more satisfied or cared for. And you can't really blame him; it's not his fault he can effortlessly manhandle you or make you lose your mind with a simple touch or a look most of the time. You're content with being on the receiving end of the action. You love how dominant he is, how he employs his strength to make you feel utterly powerless or protected and safe, depending on the circumstances at hand. He is in command at all times and in all aspects of his life. It's part of the job, part of his history. He never lets go, and he most likely can't... This thought is what has been holding you back the most, what has prompted you to hide and suppress this other side of you; a side that longs to take control from time to time, a side that yearns to make such a dominating man feel powerless, to make him beg, whimper, and utterly surrender to you... The idea of it excites you so much that you need to... you must...

"Are you feeling cold?"

The startling sound of his raspy voice makes you jump as though you've been jolted awake from a rousing dream, and you lift your head to meet his gaze.

"Huh?"

Simon’s gaze narrows imperceptibly at your wild-eyed look and he reluctantly lets go of your shoulder as you draw away from his side.

"You were shivering…"

"Oh, uhm…"

You hurriedly run your hand through your hair, your gaze darting about the room as you try to regain your composure. He's almost caught you... No, he has caught you thinking about him, even if he is unaware of it. He has no idea that your body was simply reacting to the fantasy you were enacting in your mind.

Your eyes return to his, and you meet his inquisitive look. He's probably wondering why you're taking so long to answer such a simple question, or why you're staring at him as if he holds the ultimate answer to the meaning of life.

It's now or never , you tell yourself, clenching your jaw as you make your decision.

Silently, maintaining eye contact, you sit up on your knees and slowly position yourself on top of him, straddling his lap. You hold your breath while looking down at his face, anticipating his reaction.

Simon holds your gaze, his expression enigmatic, his body immobile aside from a light tremble you felt as soon as your thighs wrapped around his. Your eyes are drawn to his hands as he raises them to grasp your hips. A whispery chuckle escapes his lips.

"I see… You do seek warmth..." His voice is low, almost a purr, and tinged with humour. “Come here…”

He pulls on your hips to propel you closer, but you instantly stop him. Your palms seize his wrists and tear them away from your body, pinning them to the mattress.

"No."

Your gestures and stern tone cause him to raise an eyebrow in both stupor and amusement. You and he both know you can't keep him still; he can easily remove his hands from your grip if he wants to, but... he doesn't. For the time being, at least. He appears to be intrigued enough by your peculiar behaviour to allow you to have your way.

"Someone feels bold tonight..." he remarks with a languid smile, his eyes still locked on yours, making your confidence falter as usual.

“What’s on your mind, kitten?”

You take a deep breath, hoping to ease the turmoil growing within you, while your gaze wanders hungrily over his figure. If this crazy fantasy of yours is just meant to last a few moments, you want to be sure you commit the mouthwatering image of him pinned under your weight in your mind. His fitting grey t-shirt embraces every muscle, accentuating his huge figure even further, while his cameo trousers, free of the belt he earlier tore away, are raised at the inseam, doing nothing to conceal the large package hidden beneath.

Your gaze slowly returns to his face, and you meet his delighted expression once more. He raises both brows, expecting you to talk .

"I've been thinking about this for a while..." You quietly declare, then bite your lower lip as warmth floods your cheeks. It's difficult to express such a deeply rooted desire, especially in words. However, your craving for it outweighs any embarrassment you may feel at coming clean.

"I want to be in control for once..."

Your vulnerable admission hangs in the air. His face is inscrutable while he stares up at you with that damned lazy smile of his. Then, with ease, he releases one of his hands from your grip and gently brushes his knuckles over the side of your neck, sending a chill down your spine.

"You want to take control, huh?" His voice contains a mixture of mockery and sincere devotion. It's as if he wants to commend you for your unexpected display of bravery while also taunting you for believing you could pull it off.

"And what are you going to do to me?”

As he humours you, his tone is condescending, amused, and mocking - it's rather irritating.

You grab his hand again and firmly press it back down on the mattress. This time, you trap both of his wrists beneath your knees so he can't free them as easily. He could still grab your legs and push you away or swap positions, but that would take a lot more energy than he seems to have right now.

Simon appears to be genuinely impressed by your actions, which gives you the confidence you need to take it a step further.

"I want to touch you..." you reply matter-of-factly, slipping your hand between your bodies and towards his bulge, your gaze set on his. "Please you... on my terms."

"Your terms..."

Ghost's gaze leaves yours for the first time since the game began, drifting down to your hand. He watches as you hook your finger over the hem of his trousers then slowly unzip his fly. The next moment, you're touching him from above the fabric of his boxers and he lets out a raspy groan.

"Yes, my terms..." you emphasise, your eyes piercing into his while your hand teases him. "Which means you only have to keep laying there and let me do the rest..." you add in a sultry whisper. You're slowly growing confident in your actions, fact that has not gone unnoticed by Simon.

He looks up at you, his eyes glinting with mischievous excitement. He lets out another quiet groan but it doesn't seem like he's going to say anything more. He keeps on lying on the bed, making no effort to move or to pin you down. He lacks the energy to switch roles and have his way with you.

He's letting you touch him and hold him still. Apparently, your little display is enough to impress him and pique his interest. Perhaps he's intrigued about what you have in mind or how far you'd go to get what you want. And since he appears to be willing to indulge you for the time being, you take full advantage of this opportunity and press your hand harder on him, starting to stroke your palm up and down - the fabric of his boxers creates even more friction between your palm and his sensitive skin.

You bend forward just enough to bring your face closer to his. Your eyes roam over his sharp, beautiful features before returning to meet his.

"You're so tired tonight... Aren't you, babe?" you ask softly, your tone mockingly condescending. "I'll take care of you..."

Ghost is growing more and more excited, as evidenced by the way his chest starts to rise and fall more rapidly, but especially by the way he's tensing and growing under your touch.

"I'm tired, yes... but..." He responds slowly, letting his words linger in the air for a few moments before continuing. His intense gaze is locked on yours.

"You don't want to take care of me. You want to use me. Your way."

His words send a shockwave through your body. He can see right through you, right through your actions! Yes, it is true. You want to take advantage of his exhausted state and do whatever you want with him. Just as he does with you the rest of the time to make you feel oh, so good.

You're stunned and you struggle to regain control of yourself for a moment, but then you abruptly take him in your hand and squeeze his erection. You're rewarded right away with a flex of his thighs and a breathless groan.

"Would that be so bad?" you ask, your tone clear and urgent. Your intense arousal is becoming frustrating. You must satiate it.

"Say it." you command, your lustful gaze fixed on his. Both you and Simon are taken aback by the authoritative tone of your voice. "I want you to say it."

You notice his gaze drifting down towards your hand, his eyes gleaming with eagerness. His pupils dilate, almost as if he's mesmerised by your actions and demeanour, which are so different from what he's used to.

“...You're... so... commanding..."

His voice is still filled with humour, yet he now sounds hesitant to speak, as if he wants more of your actions but doesn't want to give you any satisfaction of him asking for more - as if he's toying with you, daring you to make the next move.

"Say it, Simon." Your voice is now louder and more stern.

He maintains eye contact, just as he does when he is in charge. He still wants to act as if he's the one in control, as if he's allowing you to talk to him and touch him like that... But you both know it's different this time. You can feel his resolve waver, the shift in power dynamics taking its toll on him, drawing him into your web. It is just a matter of time. You're not going to give up now. He will be the one to yield.

Your hand travels up his erection, wrapping around the tip and gripping it firmly once again. You can hear him take a strong intake of air through his nose this time.

“What do you want me to say, huh kitten?”

His voice comes out a bit strained despite him attempting to hide it with his teasing tone.

Your free hand swiftly moves to his face, grabbing and locking his jaw. Before you grasp his glans again, you make sure his attention is on you. You brush the pad of your thumb over the slit and when you watch his brows furrow and facial muscles twitch, even if only for a split second, your eyes light up with excitement. You can also feel your skin moisten at the contact. Your teeth pop out to bite your bottom lip and keep a grin at bay. He's already leaking precum, which only confirms that he's enjoying this new dynamic.

"Tell me you want to be used." You command again, your voice barely above a whisper but with a clear demanding edge in it.

You keep your gaze fixed on his, engaging him in a battle of dominance. You must prove to him that you are not afraid, that you have no hesitation about taking charge.

You can feel his jaw clench under your grip, hot air flowing from his nostrils directly onto your tightened hand. His eyes travel over your determined expression, seemingly searching for something... something that isn't there. No, not today.

For a moment, he does not appear as powerful and in control as he usually does. He's doing everything he can to fight back, remain dominant and in charge, but something in his mind is clearly breaking apart.

He sighs and looks up at you. Your heart skips a beat as your eyes meet again.

He simply utters two words in a low, husky voice:

“Do it.”

You can't even remember the last time you felt a rush this intense.

“Use me.”

Your breath gets caught in your throat, and a shiver goes down your spine. Hearing him surrend in your fantasy is one thing; hearing him submit in real life is a whole different story. A completely unexpected sense of euphoria pervades you - one you were definitely unprepared for - and nearly knocks you out.

Simon stares up at you, no longer seeking control. On the contrary, his gaze appears docile, as if he’s under your spell, waiting for you to speak or do anything.

You've got him just where you wanted him.

A grin creeps onto your face as you keep staring down at him, teeth sinking in your bottom lip out of excitement and anticipation. You don’t have to restrain yourself anymore. He has just given you permission to use him…

...which is exactly what you intend to do.

Without a second thought, you pull both his trousers and boxers down his hips, just enough to have wiggle room for your hands so you may touch him fully and play with him without any restriction.

Then, your hands grab the hem of his tee and roll it up his torso until it gets stuck under his armpits. A wicked idea crosses your mind, and a rush of arousal surges through your body. You lean close, only a few inches away from his face; your hot breath mixes with his as your lips almost touch.

"You're not going to move, right babe?" You question him teasingly, your gaze roaming over his face, taking in every detail of his raptured look.

"Whatever I do, you'll stay still, yeah?"

When you see him nod faintly in response, your stomach flips and your grin widens.

"Mmm, good boy," you coo quietly before leaning in to trace the outline of his parted lips with the tip of your tongue. He immediately responds, craning his neck forward to press his mouth on yours, but you pull away just as quickly with a mischievous sparkle in your eyes. The groan of protest that erupts from him is the sweetest sound you've ever heard, and it goes straight to your core.

“I said, stay still.”

The hoarseness in your voice emphasises your authoritative tone.

You notice his jaw clenching and loosening a few times, his chest slowly rising as he takes a big breath, possibly in an effort to restrain himself. He's genuinely trying to hold back for you, to let you have your way... You can't keep a low satisfied chuckle from escaping you.

"Open your mouth for me…"

Simon only hesitates for a moment, his gaze drawn to your hand, which is still wrapped around the rolled fabric of his tee. Perhaps he immediately realises your intentions, or perhaps he doesn't, wondering what your little wicked mind has concocted, yet he obeys your direction and opens his mouth, much to your delight.

Your motions are slow and deliberate as you raise your hand and place the tense fabric between his teeth, tugging it to see how far it will stretch.

You lean back to admire your work and bask in the sight of him, sprayed out in front of you, his arms and hands bound to the mattress and under your weight, his mouth clogged with his own tee, the fabric of which digs slightly into the skin of his chest, tightly stretched as it is.

Your hands reach out to touch him, attracted to his body as if by a magnet. You glide your fingers over his broad shoulders, muscular chest, and chiselled abs... until your palms wrap again around his hard cock, eliciting a muffled sound from him.

You make sure his eyes are locked with yours before you start moving your hands, rubbing them up and down, stroking, squeezing, pressing hard onto his sensitive flesh. Your pace is sluggish at first, but you quickly pick up the tempo, without even giving him time to adjust to your moves. A series of unintelligible guttural sounds rumble out of his throat, all muddled by his shirt, the fabric of which you notice with glee is starting to soak up his saliva.

"You're loving this, aren't you?" You taunt him affectionately, your voice a velvet caress in contrast to his stifled humming.

Simon doesn't respond. He seems to be completely transfixed by your actions. You've never seen him so helplessly aroused by your touch; you've never seen him so completely devoted to your will.

You lean down and tease the tip of his cock with the pad of your tongue, and the sudden spasm of his hips that repays you causes you to giggle out loud.

You feel so giddy, so euphoric and completely turned on by what's happening. Your panties also dampen as a result of your own arousal, blood pouring to your core and making it throb with desire. You rub your groin over his thighs, seeking for some kind of friction. A gratified moan escapes you at the contact.

His biceps flex a bit as though he's about to pull his arms out from beneath you, in order to touch you. You press harder on him to prevent him from moving, then halt in your actions to glare playfully down at him.

"Hey, we agreed on it! No moving..." You chastise him mockingly, one hand going over his tee to firmly yank at it.

Simon huffs loudly from his nostrils, clearly frustrated, yet he freezes and stares obediently up at you.

You hold his gaze, keeping your hand at the base of his erection completely still but securely wrapped around it. You wait a few moments to test his patience; you half expect him to grumble in objection, but when he doesn't, you offer him a saccharine smile and lean down again. Your tongue slides around his glans more vigorously this time, explicitly aiming to please him. And you immediately hear him moaning in appreciation. You watch him as his eyelids flutter closed and the back of his head sinks into the pillow. The scene makes your stomach flutter and your core throb, but it doesn't stop you.

Wrapping your other palm around him, you resume stroking his length with vigorous, precise movements, never ceasing to work on him with your tongue. You can feel him ache in your hands, as he gets closer to his climax.

You look up to see his face contorting in ecstasy, his teeth digging into the fabric of his tee, saliva streaming down his chin. You're certain that this vision of him will haunt your fondest dreams and fantasies from now on.

He looks to be ready to experience the best orgasm of his life...

You almost feel bad for what you're about to do, yet you can't stop yourself.

Your hands abruptly come to a halt. The tip of your tongue teases him with a couple more flimsy licks before you take that contact away from him as well.

A deep, loud groan of outrage thunders out of his throat, slipping past the fabric obstructing his mouth. His eyes strike you with their intensity as they shoot wide open and dart towards you like lightning. His piercing gaze makes you quiver with both fear and excitement.

Without uttering a single word, you start grazing his length with your fingertips in an almost tickling caress, following his veins pattern, your other hand still wrapped firmly around the base of his cock. He groans once again, his hips shaking as tiny huffs of breath escape his nose. He looks like he's about to break free and take charge, but as soon as your teasing caress reaches the tip of his erection and brushes his slit, he absolutely loses it.

His hips buck up sharply, causing you to lose your grip on him, his loud grunts making you jump. You watch enraptured, your eyes wide open and your stomach flipping, as his cock throbs vehemently, spasming on its own as cum pours down its length bountifully.

You've never seen something more arousing. You almost reach your own climax only by witnessing the scene.

His body is still quivering, his breathing heavily pronounced by the frenzied movements of his chest, his eyes squeezed shut; you savour the spectacle for a few moments longer before leaning back in and stroking his cock again.

Another sharp shudder of his body instantly rewards your touch. Simon gasps, eyes fly back open, breathing coming in short, staggered bursts. He tightens his grip on the sheets, a low groan arising from his throat. Somehow, craning his neck and raising his shoulders, he manages to free his mouth; the damp fabric of his tee drops heavily on his chest.

"You… little… minx…" He utters in a coarse tone, fairly stuttering due to his shortness of breath.

You giggle amusedly, your hands hastening their torture and causing him to twist in pain.

You struggle against his frantic movements, trying everything you can to keep him down and still. This time, however, you can't put up with his brute force as he rips his arms free from under your weight.

A loud yelp escapes your throat as in the blink of an eye you find yourself lying down on the bed, back slammed into the mattress, hands pinned at either side of your head, thighs squeezed firmly between his knees.

Your stupefied gaze meets his menacing look, and before you can stop yourself, you burst out in a hysterical laugh.

Simon raises his brow and shakes his head at you, but you notice the angle of his mouth twitching as he fights back a smile.

"You had a lot of fun, huh?"

You nod quickly in answer, seemingly unable to stop laughing long enough to talk.

"Well..." he trails off as he raises your arms and wraps his hand around both of your wrists, holding them down firmly over your head. His free hand sweeps quickly across your face, his soft touch clashing with the severity of his features and the frustrated edge in his tone. As he leans down to hover his lips just barely over yours, he buries his fingers in your hair, threading soothingly into your roots; your hot breaths merge together and you both stare deeply into the other's eyes.

Your voice chokes in your throat as soon as you feel his hand clasp your hair in a tight, almost painful hold.

"Guess who's about to have a lot of fun now?"

MORE STORIES 🥀

[Also consider leaving a tip here on Tumblr or BUYING ME A ☕, if you particularly like what you read. Thank you! 🥀]

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley x you #Ghost x reader #Ghost #Ghost cod #Cod ghost #Call of duty #Cod x you #Simon ghost Riley fanfic #Simon ghost Riley smut #Ghost smut #Cod smut #Cod fanfic #Fanfiction #My writings

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floofeh-purpi · 3 months

Text

Getting Isekai'd?! (Part 4)

Sagau! Genshin Fatui x Gn! Reader (ft. Your bsf)

『Beloved fluffball/s mentioned below! 💜』

@justmare @mc-cos-charm

YEY NEW FLUFFBALL, HIII!!!

☆

Sidenote: CUS ITS BEEN RAINING IN MAINLA HINDI KABA NILALAMIG?! (Song reference lol) 😫

Warnings: Cursing, grammatical/spelling errors, my delulu-ahh brain forgot to write english isnt my first language and im too lazy to edit the other warnings again, me probably switching the povs alot because... yeah, filipino reader maybe speaking tagalog and bisaya, mentions of you having a wound on one of your feet, blood, author's shitty attempts at making you laugh.

【Part 3】

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆

You eventually woke up from your nap coma with a sore ass throat and a somehow still fully batteried phone. "Ok, how the fuck is my phone still 100%?! 😰 But atleast I dont have to wait 2 hours to charge my phone lmao." You mused out inside your head cus you'd say it out loud ur throat would even more sore than it already fucking is.

"I should've bought a water bottle with me earlier... ☹" You thought as you putted your phone inside one of the pockets of your pajamas and slowly went downstairs and went to the kitchen.

You sneaked into the kitchen undetected by guests. Because all you wanted to do right now was sleep again rest. Anygays, you gobbled the entire glass of water within one go and putted the glass into the sink. "Nah, y/b/f/n's gonna wash them dishes today lmao." You thought before you plugged your earphones into your phone and listened to your playlist while humming softly to the song before going upstairs.

☆

The harbingers heard someone humming in where they assumed is the kitchen before someone passed by the living room still humming and with a tiny-ahh smile going upstairs. "Oh my~ Who was that beautiful person~?" Asked the Damselette. Its true though, you were the prettiest person y/b/f/n met. "That was Y/n. :)" The harbingers and the Tsaritsa's eyes widened at that name. But are still in denial because they need to confirm just one more thing. Denial, denial, denial IS a river in Eygpt 💀🙌

☆

You eeked mentally when your playlist started playing 'Good Looking by Suki Waterhouse' (Recommend listening to it 10000/10) since you dont have spotify premium and you ran out of skips. 😔

You sat down on the chair infront of your desk, which was messier than dogshit. "Omfg im too lazy to clean it up rn 😭🙌" you thought before you grabbed some paper that you totally didnt rip out from y/b/f/n's notebook like 2 days ago before yall were isekai'd and started drawing basically a city. Aka the city you lived in before this fiasco happened.

*Insert your drawing here cus I cant find anything that was close to my imagination 🥲*

After you finished drawing, you gave your arms a very well needed stretch you desperately needed that shit after sitting down with a posture looking like a fucking shrimp if you looked at what you looked like in the side for 3 fucking hours while your earphones were still playing music, "Finally done, im tired again lmao" you thought before you slept on your chair like when its math class 💔 because you were too fucking sleepy to even get out of your chair its comfier that those damned armchairs you'd sleep on during math class. 💀

But then, your foot accidentally hitted the leg of the table so fucking hard, that it caused the sleepiness in you to go *poof* "PUTANG INA NING LAMESA 👹" (Fuck this table) you yelled loud enough for only yourself to hear you held back your tendency to scream out filipino curses loud enough for the entire damn universe to hear you because... well, the people downstairs... Are downstairs...—

You felt your atoms and dna coursing inside you still shaking at the collision of your foot and the table, whats even worse is that the foot was the one that was wounded, which made the pain all the fucking worse.

"Bandages be damned. I need to fucking change these little shits. Bweshet nih. 😔" You cursed out loud as your throat wasnt as sore as earlier we call it mineral water for a reason /jk, you made your way into your bathroom while not walking normally.

♤

You were just drinking some water in kitchen peacefully, and of course your clumsy ass hand somewhat slipped and you accidentally dropped it onto the floor... and your foot. You winced at shards of bloodied glass digging into the flesh of your foot as sat on the nearest chair while y/b/f/n tended to your wound/s OHMIGASH KILIG NAKO AYIEEEEEEE!!!!!

♤ (End of flashback)

You got some bandages which were fortunately on the sink from the last time you changed your bandages and forgetting to put it back to its original place AGAIN, but you didnt give a shit rn. But as soon as you unwrapped your bandages, instead of the crimson blood you were expecting to see on your wound, the blood was... golden.

"...What the fuck?"

☆

YEY FINISHED PART 4!!! My hands are tired from holding the phone but its ok ❤

Filipino readers where u at? 😭

【Part 5】

Published: June 30 2024. 10:38pm.

#genshin sagau #sagau #genshin impact sagau #genshin impact #genshin x reader #random #sagau x reader #sagau genshin #genshin cult au #yandere sagau #sagau creator #fatui harbingers x reader #genshin harbingers #fatui harbingers #tsarista x reader #tsaritsa #random stuff

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messrmoonyy · 1 year

Note

hey messr!

this thought came to me rn... (maybe it can be an idea for drabble)

What about one morning the reader wakes up before Tess and sees that Tess has her back turned to her, still sleepling peacefully. Since the position Tess is in, the reader can fully see her back and the scratches/red marks she left the previous night on her girlfriends back. The reader then starts to slightly trace them with her fingers, causing Tess to wake up and suddenly ask her: Admiring your work?

blushing, giggling, kicking my feet at this

Tess servopoulos x fem!reader

Wc- 484

Navigation | TLOU masterlist

You woke up to the sun peeking through a crack in the curtains, shining directly onto your face. You hated those shitty curtains, they didn’t close completely in the middle and waking up to the blinding light of the sun was a common occurrence.

You felt the warmth of Tess beside you as you stretched out like a cat, waking up your sleepy muscles for another busy day. Tess was still fast asleep, her back turned from the window and therefore escaping the blinding wake up call you had experienced.

Your eyes fell onto her bare back, visible from where the covers had slipped. Amongst the usual scars and freckles that kissed her skin, were the raised red marks of your own creation. You hadn’t realised just how much you’d practically attacked her.

But how could she blame you. Especially when she’d been fucking you like that.

There was still a slight ache between your legs, aching from the way she’d fucked you so slow but so deep. Drawing it out for what felt like hours. Your blunt nails raking down her back in some attempts to pull her down closer as if that was even remotely possible. You’d been so desperate bro have her as close as humanly possible, close just not quite close enough.

You reached out and ghosted your fingers over the marks, hoping you hadn’t hurt her. Which was a little silly, you knew you hadn’t. You had seen that woman walk around with a stab wound like it was nothing more than a paper cut.

Your brain filled with the memories of the previous night again as you traced the lines. The way her face looked above yours, how it felt buried into your neck. How hot her skin had felt pressed against your, slippery with sweat even though your crappy apartment was freezing. Sticky and sweaty and kinda gross, but not a single other care than keeping her on top of you. Keeping her close.

You closed your eyes for a moment as the memories filled your brain. The way your skin prickled when she whispered in your ear, every piece of praise and encouragement. It made your cheeks flush.

“ admiring your work? “ you startled as Tess spoke, her voice raspy with sleep in a way you silently obsessed over. Her voice was already a little rough, dropping an octave lower when she was being serious or angry. But the raspiness to her sleepy voice? It was like music to your ears.

“ something like that “ she turned over and pulled you closer, slipping a leg between yours and tucking you close into her

“ well go back to sleep. It’s early. And cold “ she mumbled, letting out a deep sigh and clearly already preparing to let sleep reclaim her again. And you could think of a lot of things worse than spending more time snuggled in bed with Tess.

#I have another drabble but I’ll probs post tomorrow I haven’t proof read it yet #tess servopoulos x reader #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #tess servopoulos

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lesbianhotch · 2 years

Text

bullseye (a mando x spaceprincess! reader fic)

The Mandalorian thinks you’re his next bounty. You think you’re getting rescued from Imperial capture. Traveling the stars together was not the plan, but here you are.

(HI FRIENDS! oh boy, have i been trying to make a mando fic for a while. here is our first introduction to mando and the princess, and im sort of dropping yall right in the middle of their growing relationship. there is a plan to write more of them, but rn im biting the bullet to see how this goes! (notes: blaster shooting, mando being a flirt, fem reader)

The shooting lesson had been Mando’s idea, ever since you almost blew your own foot off the first day you’d met.

“I was escaping after being imprisoned for almost a month,” you said the last time the man had brought it up. “Excuse me for not being up to par on my trigger finger.”

“No excuses”, was all he said.

You’d stopped on Alaris, needing to stretch your legs and get some fresh air on your way to your next destination. Mando had landed in one of the planet's large green fields, soft grass that swayed in the gentle breeze, and sunlight that made your cheeks warm. The Child needed the break from the ship most of all, and you kept a close eye on him while Mando set up his makeshift target with supplies from the ship.

By the time he was ready, the Child had sufficiently worn himself out chasing, catching, (and subsequently eating) handfuls of crickets. You laughed at his protruding belly underneath his tiny tunic, and you tucked him into his pod, closing the lid to shield him from the sun. You hear the crunch of grass underneath booted feet, and turn around to see Mando’s armor glaring in the sun.

“I really don’t see why this is necessary,” you lament as he makes his way over to you from across the field. “I thought you said I was a good shot.”

“You are a good shot, but I need you to be a great one.”

You frown, putting your hands on your hips, your gaze zeroing in on your helmeted companion as he stops in front of you.

“Am I going to learn to shoot like you?”

You pop your hip out the way you’ve seen Mando do before, letting your right hand dangle by your side, your fingers positioned into a mock blaster. “Shoot from the hip, ask questions later?”

You draw quickly, finger gun aimed at Mando’s chest, a soft ‘pew’ leaving your lips. He sighs, knocking it gently out the way with his own hand.

He reaches down and unhooks his blaster from his belt, motioning towards the target he had set up some yards away. “I’m going to teach you how to shoot for real.”

You scoff. “Now you’re just being contrarian. There’s nothing fake about how I learned to shoot.”

Mando ignores your protests, putting a gloved hand on your bare shoulder and steering you towards a flattened spot of grass that will serve as your standing point. The sun has turned the leather of his glove toasty warm, and the feeling is pleasant on your skin.

“You learned to shoot for sport, not to survive.” You open your mouth again to protest, but he beats you to it. “Shooting Manpha-fowl to impress royal guests is not the same as shooting something that wants you dead.”

You hate that he has a point, and even more, you hate that you ever so slightly agree with him.

You sigh, squaring your shoulders and tucking your hair behind your ears. “Fine. I’m ready. Let's get on with it.”

A deep and modulated chuckle comes from Mando, and you can only wonder if a smirk accompanies it underneath the helmet. “You know, if I were you, perhaps I’d be more grateful. Not everyone gets to train with a Mandalorian.”

“Well, aren't I the lucky one?” You smile your best smile, the one that came out when your mother would pinch the back of your arm around dinner guests when you’d start to slump in your chair.

Mando hands you the blaster, and he takes a step back as you examine it, turning it over in your hands.

The blaster is heavy, surprisingly so for a pistol that Mando carries at the waist. When you would shoot at home, the blaster you used was an older model rifle, one that had never seen any combat. Mando was right; you learned to shoot birds for dinner, to put on a show while your dinner guests drank brandy and cheered you on.

“How’s it feel?”

“Fine,” you shrug. “I’ve handled bigger.” The double entendre is not lost on either of you, despite how unintentional it truly was, and your lips mash together as you hold back a laugh.

You’re expecting a disappointed sigh from Mando, the kind that he puts his whole body into, but instead you are gifted one of those chuckles again, followed by a shake of the head.

“I’m going to let that one go.”

You ignore the way your heart flutters with pride at the idea of making the Mandalorian laugh twice in so many short minutes.

With the safety on, you take aim at the target, a thin sheet of metal attached to a pole that Mando shoved into the ground, rocks on either side of it to help hold it up. A sloppy circle has been painted in the middle, followed by a large dot.

Mando’s hand is on your forearm immediately, gently moving it lower. “It’s not a rifle. You’re aiming too high.” He spends a moment adjusting your upper body, lowering your shoulders and moving your elbows in and out. “Relax a little, they don’t need to be out so far.”

Funny that he’s asking you to relax, when he’s so close to you, touching your body with a strong but careful grace that makes goosebumps erupt all over, despite the mild weather. You’d yet to have time to stop on a planet with accessible clothing, so you had altered your only outfit to the best of your abilities. Your tunic was high on your neck but bare armed, leaving your skin exposed to every one of the Mandalorians touches. Your skirt was a lost cause; Mando had been kind enough to give you an old pair of flight pants that you rolled and tucked in on itself until they fit fine enough.

Without a belt however, they tend to shimmy down your hips, and your skin is on display as Mando presses two fingers there, urging you to turn your body just an inch more.

He steps back for a moment, checking his work. “This isn’t bad. Take a few shots.”

You flick the safety off, taking a deep breath in and out before squeezing the trigger once, twice.

You hit the target, of course. You are a good shot, after all. But it’s not great. You hit the outer edge of the target, same spot twice in a row. You know how to aim, but it’s just not quite right.

You sigh, lowering the blaster and turning to Mando. “Alright, how do we fix that?”

Without a word Mando is standing behind you, hands back on your body as he moves you into the same position from before. “It’s your stance.” He’s close, much closer than you’ve ever been with him before, and you feel him spread his legs. “Match what I do.”

You shift your body until you can feel the press of beskar against the backs of your thighs as you mirror Mando’s body.

He hums, and you can feel the vibration against your back. “Much better.” He takes a step back and urges you to take another shot.

You hit the target again, but only an inch or so closer to where you need to be.

Before you can even look at Mando, he’s back behind you, arms under yours to guide them into the correct position. “I know exactly what’s wrong.”

“And that is-” you manage to croak out as you try to ignore the heat that runs up and down your spine as Mando’s strong body presses into the back of yours.

He doesn’t answer your question in words, instead arranging you as he sees fit, molding himself to you as he gets you into prime shooting position. Mando seems entirely unaffected by the position he’s put the two of you in, meanwhile your heart is hammering so hard you have to wonder if he can hear it.

Despite the two of you being the only ones for miles, his voice is still low in your ear, like he intends for no one else in the galaxy to hear him but you.

“Now. Deep breath, stay focused. Squeeze the trigger with confidence.”

You do, and this time, you miss the target entirely.

This man has to know what he’s doing to you, there’s no way he doesn't.

But still, Mando’s voice remains even and calm as his hand moves from your forearm to wrap around your wrist, adjusting it ever so slightly. He keeps it there, grip like iron.

It’s almost all too much; his body, his voice, his hands, the god damn beskar that threatens to poke your skin beneath your clothes. It’s overstimulating, and you close your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath in and out, anchoring yourself. Mando nods and you feel his helmet brush your ear.

“Good. Keep steady.”

You flick the safety off and take a shot. More towards the center this time.

“Again,” he says.

Another shot. A little to the left.

“Again.”

You’re so close you can taste it.

You take a deep breath in, so deep this time that you can feel Mando’s chest move with the motion of your rising back. Mando’s voice is no more than a low rumble at this point, surely undetectable if he wasn’t planted so close to your ear.

“Come on Princess. Hit the target.”

You let out a slow breath through your mouth, and squeeze the trigger.

Bullseye.

(tagging my love @spacecowboyhotch for being so kind as to share metal husband with me)

#me: sweating crying throwing up over posting my first mando fic #the amount of time i spent on star wars wiki for such a short fic is. worrying #the mandalorian x reader #ALSO HAPPY MANDO DAY

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hijacking-hearts · 1 year

Note

what if cquackity in thr like classic office lady outfit where there's a button down, blazer, miniskirt and then those specific pointed heels

Sorry this took so long buuuuuuut here it is, I know exactly what outfit you're talking about but for some reason I can't draw what I want rn so I give you a more casual version of said office lady fit!

Like bro I struggled so hard to draw the heels I gave up after the 50th try but to make up for it I left some lil sketches!

Genuinely I feel like the tights are what make the outfit work my guy like it's the way the tights stretch around the thigh that really give it that feel ya know?

Ignore I'm sleep deprived.

Anyways imma rant a lil bit cuz I'm eepy so like I drew him with smaller wings because I feel like fluffy wings just add to the look also I had to fight the urge to give him tits but now I regret it. Speaking of tits I feel like the anatomy is a lil off on the colored sketch cuz the legs look to long but it could also be cuz of the mini skirt. I dunno. Uh I actually might draw more him in this fit I really like the way he looks in it.

Hmm I had something else to say but I forgot uh buenas noches espero que te gustó el dibujo uh like and subscribe lol.

Give me more things to draw pls.

#my art #quackity #quackity fanart #sketch #i dunno #dsmp fanart #dsmp quackity #ask #cquackity #uh #yeah #did i put to much emphasis on the tights #yes #leave me alone #did i also #put to much emphasis on the thighs #also yes #dont judge me

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squidcandy · 2 years

Note

staring into your soul rn can i hear about your akatsuki headcanons? ive recently come around to loving these little sillies and need some food <3

Oh my god. Where do I beginnn. Opening up the little notes app doc I keep them on

Bulleted list obviously

Keito is autistic, Kuro has ADHD and Souma is the AuDHD poster child

Kuro has a bag that he carries around with him full of safe snacks and noise canceling headphones and fidget toys for all of them when things get bad in the sensory department

Keito and Souma go on morning jogs together. Kuro wants to join them but he sleeps in.

This one is technically canon but. Sleepovers at Keito's house. Souma and Keito drag Kuro out of the futon by his ankles at 6 am

Kuro has a super warm body, and Keito has the heat retention of reptile. He's almost cold blooded. When it's cold, Souma and Keito will stand closer to Kuro/huddle near him to use him as a heater. They do it unconsciously, and though Kuro notices, he doesn't say anything because he thinks it's cute :)

Kuro's sister thinks Keito is boring and lame.

In order to get Souma to check his phone more often, Keito has gotten him a virtual pet app. Souma's virtual pet is very well maintained. Kuro's is dead.

Because Kuro usually helps Keito into outfits, Keito sometimes just stands around pre-interviews/shows, expecting someone to put his coat on for him before he realizes Kuro isn't there and does it himself.

Kuro believes in the philosphy of Anything can be fixed with a good smack. He did this with the TV in the common room, and now there's a big black blotch in the corner from where he "gave it a good one"

Kuro often chews the backs of his pencils and straws, so Keito bought him a chewy pendant and pencil attachment. He worries about how much lead Kuro has consumed.

Souma shakes his head and hands to stim. He keeps slapping people with his ponytail, though.

Keito just needs to do things with his fingers to let the happy energy out, either adjusting his glasses, hair, gesturing, or stretching them.

When Keito is on his own and reading a good book or manga, he'll kick/bounce his legs to stim.

Kuro has sleep fought Souma (who was also asleep) Keito, who was in the sleeping bag to the left of them, felt mortal fear.

Keito's dorm with Hajime and Hokuto Reeks of Lavender and Sandalwood. Hokuto would Like to say something about it, but it actually isn't so bad.

Kuro listens to Doja Cat. He thinks it's neat. He doesn't understand the lyrics very well.

Keito has Banned Doja Cat from the office Playlist. He cannot Get into It (Yuh!). 'It' being his paperwork.

Souma will never know what a Doja Cat is. He thinks Kuro must be hiding some sort of feline in the dojo.

Keito is very good at baking, because he's good at measuring things and following instructions

Kuro usually goes with his gut when it comes to cooking and it tastes great.

Souma has excellent memory and recreates Niki's dishes almost perfectly.

Kuro does his sister's hair and practices new styles on Souma. Sometimes, he'll put clips and things in Keito's hair when he's asleep or intensely focused.

Kuro snores extremely loudly. It's horrible. Dad snores.

Keito will often fall asleep immediately after a performance and Kuro has to resist the urge to pinch his cheeks/draw stuff on his face. He has failed to resist on more than one occasion.

There occasions on which Souma regrets telling Kuro and Keito to include him when discussing things, because this has now extended to the pettiest of arguments. "Kanzaki, tell Kiryu that he needs to put the dishes in the sink as soon as he's done" "it's not that big a deal, danna. Right Kanzaki?"

Akatsuki photocards and promotional materials aren't selfies, but rather pictures that they took of eachother.

Kuro and Keito walk around ES with eachother non-stop. When Keito is in the office, Kuro drops and him off and picks him up.

Kuro tries very hard to get Souma in on his dad joke sense of humor. It has only partially worked.

#anon tag #squid speaks #akatsuki #enstars #ensemble stars #kuro kiryu #souma kanzaki #keito hasumi #there are more but those are more situational. my hobby is putting akatsuki into Situations #i tried to keep it gen but if some krk got in there im sorry im yaoibrained #if you ask me for Specific headcanons i can Say More

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spindrifters · 1 year

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FUSION DANCE: marginalia and pirates!!! ☠️

genius behavior alert. please keep in mind I'm drinking wine rn. this isn't going to be my finest writing. also, cw for ableist but period accurate language.

He’s in the captain’s quarters, something he wouldn’t have dared a year past, curls drying with salt, and this time Black actually knocks.

“Come in,” he says, and the irony isn’t lost on him. This is, after all, Black’s cabin.

Remus is self-aware enough to know that not even a month ago he wouldn’t have let anyone anywhere near him like this. He definitely wouldn’t have laughed in Black’s face like this, the dread Captain Sirius Black caught ridiculous and adorable, frozen in place with the question half-caught in his lips.

Which is honestly quite fair, really. Remus doesn’t use the cane. Not ever. Not where the men can see him. It’s the wooden leg on deck and the wooden leg only. As quartermaster of the Marauder, it’s his job to act as a liaison between the crew and their captain. To instill confidence, ensure belief that their voice will be heard.

No one looks to a cripple for confidence.

“Er,” says Black.

“Draw a sketch, it’ll last longer,” Remus says wryly, stretching his stump of a leg further out onto the bench. It’s not a pretty sight, he does know that. Raw and red at the bandages, and likely festering beneath. “Mr. Pomfrey’s livid with me for using the wooden leg so often, of course, but it can’t be helped.”

“I see. Is there anything I can… Are you quite well, then?”

Very well, thanks. The answer’s there, ready on his lips before he knows to form the thought, only it catches.

Because unless he’s very much mistaken, Black was about to ask, Is there anything I can do to help?

if you had asked Remus Lupin at age twelve — Welshborn, the son of a moderately successful printer — or age sixteen — press-ganged into His Majesty’s royal navy to atone for his father’s treasonous words — or indeed age twenty — a fresh recruit onto the somewhat less democratic pirate ship Greyback — he’d have balked at the idea. Captain Sirius Black’s reputation preceded him. Black smoke and flaming eyes, the sort of stories he’d never put much stock behind. That doesn’t mean Remus ever imagined he’d be here, now, baring himself vulnerable and realizing Black — Sirius — is the only person he’d ever allow to see him like this.

But Sirius, it turns out, is so much more than the stories. So much more than the angry, disowned lordling Remus had taken him for the first time they’d crossed paths in that Nassau pub. He’s barely thirty himself, for one, a scant few months older than Remus. He’s smart. Educated. Devastatingly witty. Prone to fits of melancholy that Remus can never quite figure out, even as he assures the men their captain is simply deep in the weeds of charting a new course. And above all that — he’s kind. He has a good heart. And he knows as well as Remus what it is to lose everything through no fault but being who you truly are.

So he catches his first instinct, that deep-honed need for self-sufficiency, and grins with a wink. “I wouldn’t say no to some of that fine port I know you’re hoarding in your bottom shelf.”

Sirius stares for a moment, then two, and then he breaks into a smile so dazzling it could outshine the fucking sun.

unusual fic asks

#catch me and lynx in our black sails era #marginalia blogging #wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #drabble

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crashtestdummy1003 · 1 year

Text

this came to me in a dream. its about the dca x my self insert btw. Mainly moon hes my bbg, sun is just here bc I wanted to write the silly guy

TW for nausea and feelin icky, some cussing

Forgot to count the words and at this point I refuse to, mobile tumblr is being a biotch to me rn

(I made this all up on the spot based on like 5 seconds of a dream I had, it was written in my tumblr drafts with no beta reads, we die like men in my blog)

Running, they had been running. Glancing down, Ange saw that their sheets were wrapped around their legs in random patterns. Yeah, that checks out.

I just wanted to nap (my y/n x sun and moon) ((mostly moon))

Ange laid on their bed in the dark, eyes cracked open slightly. What time was it? Their mouth was dry and hands sweaty, brows furrowed so hard their head hurt. It took only a few seconds for their dream to return to them.

But what had they been running from? They couldn't remember now, the little details already slipping their mind. Their bed felt so soft compared to its usual stiffness, and they just wanted to sink back into it.

Groaning, Ange fought their urges and sat up, stretching their arms behind their back until they felt a few pops from their back and shoulders, humming quietly as they relaxed. Their glasses were still on their face, one side hanging below their ear. After fixing the frame's fit over their ears, the human dropped their hand to their side. Their hand fell on something cool and smooth on the bed beside them; their phone. Two taps on the screen revealed the time, 2:48 A.M.

No wonder everything felt hazy and weird, they'd napped for six hours after their last shift. Rubbing their eyes, Ange reached to their left, where their drawing tablet was usually charging on their bedside table. They could stand to draw for a little while, at least until it came time to get ready for their next shift at the daycare.

Their hand fell through the air, not making contact with anything.

With a jolt, Ange uncovered their eyes and looked over the walls around them. Even in the dark, they could see the silhouettes of a few peices of furniture- a desk, what looked like a dresser, and a bookshelf- that didn't match the furnishings of their room at home.

A quick glance at the wall before them and Ange could see a dim glow illuminating a large rectangle set in the wall. A door, hopefully leading to a familiar place. Okay. Weird.

They began to stand, but the moment their knees straightened out the world tipped sideways. Their vision blurred and swam uncomfortably as a darkness creeped into their periferals. The ground beneath Ange's feet felt like the floor of a ship, swaying with invisible waves. The bed felt so far away.

Wherever here was.

Stumbling, they took a step towards the door. It was directly in front of the bed, not to the left like it should have been. One agonizingly slow step after the other, they made their way to the door. They needed to get out of here.

After what felt like an eternity, Ange fell against the door, using the solid surface to steady themself. Closing their eyes, they rested their forehead against the cool door and took shuddering breaths, trying not to inhale too deeply. Their lungs were on fire, but it felt like if they breathed too deeply they would throw up the mac and chesse they had at lunch.

Ange was never the type to get sick; they couldn't remember the last time they threw up. Where had this nausea come from?

Maybe that mac and cheese had been a bad idea, they thought, their hand falling to the doorknob. They needed to stand straight up. The longer they leaned against this door, the heavier their eyelids grew.

Reluctantly, Ange leaned back and gripped the door knob, but it turned without their input. Stumbling back just in time to avoid being smacked by the door, their eyes widened.

"Oh, Sunshine!" A cooing voice came from a good three feet above Ange. They snapped their gaze up to meet the familiar face of the Superstar Daycare attendant. The round face of a sun half-covered by a cresent moon was surrounded by triangle shaped rays that spun and shifted into and out of the attendant's faceplate as he talked.

"You're supposed to be resting! You had quite the spell earlier." The robot tilted his head at the human, his white optics staring into Ange's hazel eyes. The human flinched from the eye contact, the attendants eyes a harsh flash of light in the otherwise dim room. The only thing combating the white glow was the light spilling in from the open door. It was already giving them a headache, only now amplified by their astigmatism reacting to the brightly and sudden light. They raised a hand to cover their eyes, squinting, but five large silicon-cased fingers caught their wrist.

"Not speaking? That's okay! I can speak for both of us!" Sun took Ange's other wrist in his other hand. "Oh, you must have just woken up! I'll bring Moon back to put you to sleep after I check on you." He began to walk, or rather drag, them back to the bed. The human squirmed, but their vision swam and their stomach flipped at all the movement, forcing them to follow Sun's nonverbal commands.

"Where-" Their voice came out as a rasp, and a lump rose in their throat. "Where are we?" They asked weakly, voice barely above a whisper.

"Oh, that's not important!" He spun his rays cheerfully and picked the human up by their wrists before plopping them back in the bed.

"Sun." Ange croaked, their throat burning. They swallowed, hard, and tried to push through. "This isn't, uh, this.. this isn't the.. daycare..?" They ended it with an unsure lift of their voice.

"What an observation!" Sun clapped gleefully. "No, we're not in the daycare, Sunshine!" He sat on the edge of the bed, tilting his head and grinning. (Well, he was always grinning, but Ange could tell when it was genuine after months of working with him.)

"Somebody's.. house..?" Ange added, unsure. The robot's sharp rays spun again, faster this time with a few loud clicks. He just leaned his head to the side, so much so that his long torso bent until he was looking sideways at the human.

Ange narrowed their eyes, leaning back into the many pillows piled onto the bed. Once they were laying down, their body felt almost normal.

"Don't play with me." They growled, trying to be somewhat intimidating.

A dark giggle from Sun proved their method ineffective.

"Oh, you are so cute when you try to be serious!" He chuckled, reaching a large hand forward and pressing his finger against their nose. "Boop!"

Ange felt their face heat up. They pushed his hand away, the movement causing their arm and wrist to tire much easier than they'd have liked.

Grinding their teeth together, they hissed out, "Stop treating me like a kid. Tell me what's-" another rise in their throat they had to swallow down- "wh-what's going on-" They sputtered out, voice cracking in the effort to not puke all over Sun and his(?) room.

"You can learn all of that when you're better, my friend! I'll get you some water, and then Moonie can come out to sing you to sleep!" He giggled again. "Oh, maybe not sing. You know how he is!"

Ange couldn't find the words (or energy) to respond, watching Sun stand and walk to the door. The light from the hallway outlined his body as he reached the wall.

"Oh, and Sunshine-" He rested a hand on the door, turning to face Ange, then spasmed. A flash of black appeared in one of his optics and his hand on the door tensed, fingers curling, before it threw the door shut.

Ange flinched, eyes widening as Sun grabbed his head and muttered frantically, sounding something along the lines of, "No, no, no, they're not ready yet!"

Ange curled their legs to their chest, sucking in a breath. Immediately they regretted it, feeling an itch in their throat before they started coughing. It wasn't even that bad, but they were out of breath after the ten seconds it took to stop. They only looked up when they heard the daycare attendant speak again.

"Moon, you--!" Sun hissed, his voicebox crackling as if he wanted to add more. Before he could finish however, his sunrays started to fold around his head and tuck themselves into his faceplate.

Moon was coming out, Ange realized. Could he always do that? Turn out the lights on Sun? Take control of a part of his body? They'd only seen the attendant change once, and it was just as shocking the second time around.

Sun's poofy jester pants split in half along each leg, likely held there with a wire outline (or something, Ange wasn't very good with robotics, they just guessed). They were replaced with a pair looping over in the opposite fashion, stars replacing pinstripes.

The attendant's optics flashed black, to white, to black again before landing on the darker color and staying there. A red pinpoint of light was visible in the eyes, looking almost like it was floating in the darkness.

The last change was Moon's hat, unfolding and popping up from a compartment behind his head. The robot's recently upright posture was now downturned, hunched with his arms swaying at his sides.

The red pupils in his eyes snapped to Ange, his head unmoving.

"Moon-" Ange sat up, then hissed as their body screamed to lay back down. They ignored their body's warning. "What was that?" They muttered, unable to raise their voice any higher. This was already exhausting.

Moon chuckled darkly, but not another crackle came from his voice box. Ange shifted where they sat uncomfortably. The only thing they could see was the robot's red pupils glowing dimly.

Until they vanished. Shit.

The human knew he could turn his eyes off without hindering his ability to see, something about being a security function? Ange never really listened when the head mechanic explained things like that, but now they wished they had heeded the warnings.

Moon was practically invisible now, and without his voice to tell Ange where to look, he was impossible to find. The human narrowed their eyes and swung their legs over the side of the bed. Just as they began to put pressure on their feet to stand, a voice came from behind them, freezing them in their tracks.

"Oh, no, no." It chastised them in a tone they hadn't been spoken to with since they were young. A click of the tounge and a synthetic sigh followed as a large pair of hands slipped around Ange's waist. "Thats a bad idea, Angel."

Ange flinched at the touch and yelped, jumping away as fast as possible. As soon as they landed, a wave of nausea hit them, tenfold what they had been feeling when sitting.

They doubled over, one hand on the knee for stability and the other covering their mouth. A slight whimper slipped through their fingers as their face scrunched up in pain.

A soft creak sounded from where Ange had just been sat. A patting noise, muffled by pillows and blankets. The quietest jingle of bells before Moon was silent again.

Ange could only imagine how he had perched himself on the bed - he never was one to sit normally. Despite the climbing lump in their throat, the human almost laughed aloud at the idea of the daycare attendant doing some kind of handstand on the bed.

Though, that also meant he was closer to them now. Ange squinted, adjusting their glasses to try and find Moon's outline in the dark.

They just about jumped out of their skin when his eyes were re-illuminated, just inches from their face. They hissed a quiet "son of a--" and put their hands where they could only assume Moon's shoulders were, in a feeble attempt to shove him back. Immedietly their arms began to ache, as if they had just worked out, but they refused to release the pressure.

The robot hardly moved an inch at first, but seemed to decide on humoring the much weaker being's attempts, taking a small step back and humming in the sinister way he always did.

Ange's head was spinning, and it felt like they weren't getting enough air after all that excitement. They closed their eyes for a second to blink, and the next thing the knew a pair of familiar hands were cupping their face, stopping them from falling over.

"I told you standing was a bad idea. Naughty, naughty~" Moon hummed, turning over the human's face in his hands. His tone lacked something, though. He wasn't trying to scare them this time. He tapped their cheek softly a few times. "You never listen, starlight."

"Yeah, well-" Ange cleared their throat, wincing as it burned. "Yeah, well, its hard to.." They swallowed, wincing again. "Its hard to want to stay in the same spot when you're.. when you're trying to scare me-" God, this was painful. It was a little more bearable now, though, with Moon acting as a physical support.

Cool metal digits slid from the human's cheeks down their neck, then jumped to their wrists. Moon kept his gaze on their face, though, watching as they shivered under the cold touch.. He gently held their wrist, tugging softly. His other hand stayed securely under their chin.

"You need to lie down. You need to sleep."

Ange shook their head no, even as they fought back a yawn.

"Angel." Moon began their name, a warning. Ange narrowed their eyes, but then quickly opened them again. They didn't want to close them for too long.

"Tell me what happened first."

Another synthetic sigh, annoyed. Moons eyes searched Ange's for something as he seemed to mull it over.

"..Sun found you. You were unconscious in the break room after your shift." He began, slowly.

Ange nodded along, silently urging him to continue. They already knew that part. Thank the gods Moon could see in the dark; if they had to push verbally they felt as if they'd throw up.

"Your body temperature was rising rapidly. So we brought you to the nap area to keep a better eye on you." As Moon spoke, he traced circles and stars onto the human's hand.

"We had maintenance, so the daycare closed for the night. We tried to wake you up, but-" He chuckled lightly. "You can guess how that went, cant you, starlight?" Ange nodded weakly, something knawing at their stomach (besides the nausea-).

"We got worried, so we asked Vanessa for a favor." Moon said, and Ange could just hear the sly smile he had on his face right now. "She owed us one, after that night with the naughty boy."

Ah. This was Vanessa making up for the security breach a few months ago. Ange hadn't been there for it, they had plans that night, so they only knew a few details. At least now the bots were allowed to leave every now and then, if they were supervised.

Wait.

"This is Vee's house?" The human asked, followed by a big yawn they couldn't suppress. Another chuckle escaped Moon, and Ange felt both of his hands move to their lower arms, maneuvering them towards the bed. He didn't answer their question.

"Now will you sleep?" There was an edge of annoyance that had been seeping into his tone, likely from Ange's obvious exhaustion that they were ignoring. Caring, but still annoyed. Ange rolled their eyes and nodded. They still had more questions, but those could wait until they woke up again.

Every motion felt like it was done underwater. Moon helped the human into bed, surrounding them with pillows and blankets.

As they were being tucked in, Ange fluttered their eyes open a moment.

"Why was Sun acting so weird?" They whispered.

Moon put a Bonnie plush next to the human, taking a moment to think beforehand.

"Hes worried about you."

Another pause.

"..and he says sorry for treating you like a child."

Ah, the boys were talking in their head again.

"Moon..?"

A sigh. "Yes, starlight?"

"How did you... change.. without Sun letting you?"

The attendant paused, then brushed some hair out of Ange's face, the tips of his silicon coated fingers tickling their skin. He ran his hand down their neck a few times, almost petting them as he decided on what to say.

"...it was already pretty dark in here." He said, definitively. No more on that. Sun and Moon never liked to say much about how they transformed. "Now get some sleep, starlight. Sun will be back to normal after we charge, and you'll see him then."

Ange only yawned in response, their eyes falling shut on their own. The last thing they remembered that night were the cool fingertips running gently along their chin, and the hum of a distant lullaby.

The end, get outta here

#fnaf oc #fics #fnaf sb #fanfic writing #dca #dca x oc #self insert #fnaf self insert #self shipping #this is self indulgent #and i love it #sun and moon sb #sundrop #moondrop #my bbgs #the ending was rushed mb #sun and moon x reader #im in love with them actually

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