ALittleMiss
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"You can prove yourself this time." Samira leans against the bookshelf, slides one ankle over the other, the slit of her skirt revealing the barest hint of skin. "You can resist temptation."
A beat of silence, two.
"Can't you, Father Abbot?"
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or, the (loosely) fleabag-inspired AUBookmarked by ALittleMiss
12 Feb 2026
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If pressed to define it, Samira would describe her relationship with Jack Abbot in fairly simple terms. They are coworkers. Friends. Close friends, even, sure, she’d confidently say that. They’re certainly close, she thinks, and she’s definitely close right now, too, as she clenches her fingers tighter in Jack’s curls.
Bookmarked by ALittleMiss
04 Dec 2025
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Here she is, in Jack Abbot’s bedroom, getting ready to spend twelve hours following his lead. It’s weirdly relaxing, now that she’s here. She doesn’t have to make any decisions. She trusts him to take care of her. All she has to do is take care of him in return.
Series
- Part 4 of Kinktober 2025
Bookmarked by ALittleMiss
15 Nov 2025
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“Robby force you to take a break?” he asks when she’s close enough to not have to yell.
“Yeah.”
“Me too,” he huffs. “Like he’s my superior or something. Asshole.”
Samira laughs, bending down to put her coffee down, balancing her sandwich on the lid, and then leans her forearms on the railing, far enough away to still be able to look at the side of his face, but close enough that she feels a little more confident she’ll be able to do something if he… Well. “Should you be sitting over there?” she asks, staring at the slight slope of his nose, the shadow of his eyelashes across on the top of his freckled cheekbone.
“Probably not,” he answers in a casual tone. “At least I’m sitting.”
That doesn’t comfort her very much, but she figures there’s no point in fighting him on it, so she turns and sits down with her back against the warm metal, mirroring him. “You want half of my sandwich?” she offers, twisting her upper body to hold it out to him.
Bookmarked by ALittleMiss
02 Nov 2025
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Opening the trunk of her Honda Fit, she rolls her neck, sighing at the way her ligaments pop. It’s the coldest morning on record in the year so far, and she doesn’t look forward to sitting in her car while it takes longer than it should to warm up. I just want to go home, crawl into bed, and sleep until it’s dark again.
That last thought pops like a bubble—she slips out of consciousness into silence. When she wakes, it’s in a soft bed in a room that isn’t hers.
Bookmarked by ALittleMiss
28 Oct 2025