#EVENT THREAD (STANDING HERE I REALIZE) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ohbueckers · 2 months ago

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SUIT & TIE. all pressed up in black and white, and you’re dressed in that dress i like. love is swinging in the air tonight, let me show you a few things.

ONE-SHOT! pairing, paige bueckers x reader. notes, another request i got done in ample timing because i’ve been procrastinating the last two parts of what’s my name real bad LMFAOOO enjoy! @patscorner @thaatdigitaldiary thanks baes i needed an excuse to use this picture… warnings, sexual content.

you’re standing near the grand entrance of the gala, lingering behind as your parents moved effortlessly through the crowd, shaking hands and greeting guests. you’d been to many of these events for their business, and yet you always seemed to dissociate. you glance down at the dress you’re wearing—your girlfriend’s choice, of course. it fits you like a glove, the deep color standing out in a sea of black and white. paige had insisted on it, and you’d given in because the way she looks at you in it is worth every second of doubt you’d had when she first showed it to you.

but paige was late. again.

your dad walks up to you, a smug smirk on his face as he sinks his hands deeper into his pockets. “she’ll be here. follow us in,” it was like he could read your mind as he throws his head in one direction, which you figure is the main hall where the night is supposed to start. his arm extends, offering for you to take it, and after a brief pause, you do, rolling your eyes with a half-smile before threading your arm through his.

she had promised to be here after the nike event, swearing she’d make it before the night really started. you understood; between interviews, sponsorships, basketball commitments—she’s been pulled in every direction, and truthfully, you couldn’t be prouder of her. her fame had skyrocketed this past year, and it was safe to say she was booked and busy. in the world of paige bueckers, this all came with the territory.

but tonight, you need her here. it’s your parents’ night, the business gala they’ve been planning for months, and you were happy the location had aligned with her schedule. as much as you’ve gotten used to being the one waiting for paige, there’s something about this evening that’s different. maybe it’s the nerves of being around all these people, or maybe it’s the way you can’t stop checking your phone, hoping for an update.

the minutes crawl by slower than they should, your eyes flitting across the room, searching the crowd for a glimpse of white. as your fingers tap nervously against the side of your glass. the crowd blurs together—tuxedos, dresses, champagne flutes clinking—but no sign of her yet.

just as you think about actually socializing with other people, your demeanor probably giving uninterested to anyone who thought about it, the doors part, and she walks in, all legs and confidence as she shoots that smile at everyone. for a second, you think you’ve imagined her, that your mind has conjured her up to calm your nerves. but no. she’s here.

and she looks damn good.

your heart rate picks up as she clocks you from across the room, that familiar smirk pulling at her lips when she sees you staring. she knows the effect she has on you, on everyone, and she’s not shy about it.

when she finally reaches you, standing just close enough, her voice is low, intimate as she wraps her hand around your hip, and she says, “told you i’d make it, didn’t i?” paige has this way of making you feel like you’re the only person in the room. always.

you swallow, glancing at her shoes—a pair of nike’s that she’d probably worn for the shoot. of course, she’d forget to change them after the event. “you were so close to pulling this off,” you tease, nodding toward her feet. “really would’ve had me if you ditched the kicks.”

she glances down, a mock look of realization spreading across her face. “ahh, i knew i was missin’ somethin’. but honestly? i think they make the fit.”

you roll your eyes but can’t help the smile spreading across your lips. “only you would wear sneakers to a business gala.”

she leans in, smirking smugly, her breath warm against your ear as she murmurs, “and only you could make me wanna skip this whole thing.”

your stomach flips, heat rising in your face at the way her voice drops to a dangerous level. her fingers are still gripping your waist like her life depends on it, just a subtle touch, but enough. you should be mingling, keeping up appearances for your parents, but right now? all you can think about is the way paige is looking at you, like she’s already undressing you with her eyes.

she pulls back, just enough to let her eyes trail over your dress—her dress. the one she picked out specifically because, in her words, “i know what looks good on you better than you do.”

she was right.

“you’re killin’ me, you know that?” she mutters, fingers tracing the delicate fabric of the material.

you raise an eyebrow, trying to keep your best formal composure. “i could say the same about you. what’s with the tie?” your hand moves up instinctively, fingers brushing over it. it’s tucked neatly into her white vest, and you’re well-aware of how comfortable you both look right now.

paige’s grin is slow, knowing. “you’ve never seen me like this before, huh?”

you shake your head, licking your lips as you take her in. “no. and i wasn’t prepared. when do those pics come out again?” you’re serious enough to want to commit this image to memory, knowing that the suit, the tie, the whole ensemble might be your new favorite thing.

before paige can respond, you spot movement out of the corner of your eye—your parents approaching. you practically leap out of each other’s arms, standing a little straighter as they stroll over. you felt like two kids in highschool getting caught doing something they weren’t supposed to, despite being full-grown adults.

your dad gives a pointed glance between you and paige, a slight smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “well, isn’t this a sight?” he says with an undercurrent of teasing that only a parent could manage. “glad you could make it, paige.”

paige flashes her most polite smile, but there’s a faint blush creeping up her neck, spreading to her cheeks. “wouldn’t miss it,” she says, her voice softer and less full of the usual slang she’d use. she’s met your parents plenty of times before, but something about the way they’re looking at the two of you now, has her just a little shy.

your mom steps in, her own smile warm as she subtly nudges paige’s arm. “best behavior, okay?”

you watch paige turn a shade darker, chuckling as the confidence she walked in with slipped just slightly. she clears her throat, glancing down at her shoes before looking back up, all politeness. “of course. i’m on my best behavior.” who was she convincing?

you try to stifle a laugh at the sight of her—paige bueckers, who commands attention on the court and off, suddenly looking bashful under your parents’ orders. you’re not sure you’ve ever seen her like this, and honestly, it’s a little endearing.

your dad claps a hand on her shoulder, steering you both back to the crowd. “let’s get back to mingling. it’s almost time for the toast.”

the night continues, your parents dragging you from one conversation to the next, making you play the part of the dutiful daughter while paige keeps her distance, blending in with the crowd. well, almost. on her journey to becoming a household-known name, she had been stopped for pictures a few times. you catch glimpses of her every now and then, your eyes meeting across the ballroom, and each time, she gives you that same teasing look. you were glad she was here even if you couldn’t spend most of the night together.

then comes the toast, your father standing up to say a few words while the room quiets down, champagne glasses raised high. you’re only half paying attention, focus drifting back to paige like it had been the entire night, who’s already watching you from across the room. she doesn’t need to say anything, but the look she gives you is clear as day—a tilt of her head toward the hallway, her fingers brushing against her tie, sending a message that makes you wonder what her plan is.

meet me in the bathroom.

as your dad finishes up his speech, you wait a few seconds before you excuse yourself from the room, sure not to make anything look too suspicious, although your parents knew you and paige well-enough by now.

the noise of the gala fades as you move deeper into the hallway, the plush carpet beneath your heels muffling your steps. paige is waiting for you just outside the family bathroom, her back leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed, but there’s nothing casual about the way she’s eyeing you up and down when she sees you approaching.

“you lookin’ real fine right now,” paige says, her voice low, a little rougher than usual. she brings her hands up, rubbing them together as she tugs her bottom lip between her teeth, smiling through it. “almost didn’t recognize you for a second.”

you smirk, stepping closer, as you swat her hands down, sick of those stupid rizz hands, although it always worked.. “oh, put it down!”

paige laughs, pushing off the wall and opening the bathroom door for you. “c’mon. lemme show you something real quick.”

you step inside without hesitation, the door clicking softly behind you, and in an instant, she’s on you. her hands grip your waist, pushing you back against the door, your ass a cushion against the hard surface. and before you can react, her lips crash against yours. it’s hungry, needy, because paige can quite frankly never get enough of you.

her body presses into yours, and you whimper into her mouth, manicured nails sliding around her neck, tugging her closer. “paige,” you murmur against her lips, but that only spurs her on.

she breaks away just enough to flash you a grin, her breath hot against your skin. “what? you don’t wanna?”

you laugh, the sound breathless as she moves her lips to your neck, kissing and nipping at your skin in a way that makes your knees weak. “i didn’t think we’d be sneaking around at a gala,” you manage to say between gasps.

paige pulls back slightly again, her eyes locking onto yours, head slightly tilted down due to your height. “it’s not sneaking if they don’t catch us,” she reasons, and you suppose she’s right, but there was also no way you’d say no to her right now when she’s looking like that.

you smile, and her hands slide further around your waist. “c’mere.” she bites her lip, reaching for your wrist as she pulls you toward the sink, spinning you around so your back hits the counter. she hoists you up, and you don’t even have much time to process it before she’s on you again, lips finding yours as she slips her knee between your legs, parting them for her next move.

her hands begin gathering up the fabric of your dress, inch by inch. her fingers trail over your thighs, touch giving you goosebumps, and all you can do is breathe her in as she finally pushes it all the way up so it’s scrunched up at your hips.

she pulls away, lips pink and glossy. “you good?” she whispers.

you nod, barely able to speak as her hands explore you, fingers sliding slowly between your thighs, stroking your skin. “yeah.”

it’s all she needs, really. paige drops to her knees, maintaining eye contact as she positions herself between your legs. the sight of her down there should be framed. it has your pulse racing in all the right ways, and you can barely stand it.

she hooks her fingers around your panties, tugging them down like she’s done a million times before, because she has, and you stare at her with all the awe in the world as she pulls you to the edge of the counter. in an instant, her mouth is on you. you didn’t have much time, and the blonde didn’t plan on wasting it. the first flick of her tongue is slow, deliberate, like she’s savoring you, and one of your hands fly to the sink, gripping it for balance as a strangled gasp escapes your lips.

the other hand instinctively reaches to untuck her tie, pulling on it as the movement brings her closer. she smiles, teeth and all against your clit as she glances up, knowing how much you’re enjoying this. she brings your thighs over her shoulders, grip more rough now as she uses them as handles, having you in the exact position she’d pictured.

the sight of her there, all white suit and tie and sharp eyes, makes your breath catch in your throat. her tongue presses flat against you a few times, switching up the pleasure in a way that keeps you on your toes everytime.

you tug on her tie again, harder this time, making her groan into you, and you feel every bit of it. you can’t help it—the way she looks, the way she feels between your legs, it’s all too much. your back arches as you grind against her mouth, your thighs squeezing around her shoulders as the pleasure builds higher and higher.

“paige, please,” you breathe, your voice almost desperate. it’s a plea, but also a challenge, because you know she’s only going to push you further.

she smirks. “not going anywhere, baby. want more of me?”

she didn’t wait for an answer as she removed one of her hands from your thigh, pulling back just enough to see where her fingers were going. right into you, index and middle disappearing, the slight cold sensation of her rings at the base making your jaw drop lower, to the floor if possible.

luckily, you and paige have had sex in a few public places by now that you’d learned how to keep quiet. but right now, she wanted to hear you more than anything. needed to.

“lemme hear that mouth, too. don’t hold back.” and she meant it, head dipping between your legs once again as she got back to work, fingers moving at the same speed as her tongue.

“paige…” you breathe, practically squirming as you screw your eyes shut, unable to contain the whimper that escapes. the thrill of being caught, anyone knocking on that door, or worse, actually getting in, only heightens the sensation. “i can’t—”

“good,” she replies, the teasing lilt in her voice making you moan.

with every lick and thrust, she drives you closer to the edge, and you find yourself losing all sense of time and place, wrapped up in the moment with her. your fingers are still tugging tightly on that tie, and you’re sure this is the closest she’s ever been to your cunt, the closest she could possibly be.

you’re barely holding on, body trembling, legs wanting to close as the pleasure only builds, but paige doesn’t let up. she keeps going, curling her fingers up inside you, mouth moving faster, more insistent. your head falls against the mirror, and you can’t stop the soft, desperate sounds escaping your lips as you come undone without much warning. the sounds were enough.

paige doesn’t stop, not even when she’s sure your body has had enough, and your breath comes out in ragged gasps. she keeps her mouth on you, drawing out every last bit come until you’re spent, legs shaking around her shoulders.

when she finally pulls back, her lips are swollen, and there’s a smug, satisfied grin on her face as she runs her tongue over her top lip. she doesn’t say anything, but she stands up, pulling up your panties with her, making sure they hold every bit of the result she’d given you for the rest of the night. uncomfortable, but you didn’t have much of a choice.

and it’d give the blonde a present for when they’d get pulled down again later.

you’re still catching your breath, your fingers loosening from around her now shriveled tie. paige looks at you as if she’s just won a championship, glancing down at her chest as she tries to smooth out the tie, tucking it back in her vest. “good as new,” she mumbles.

you laugh, breathless, shaking your head as you tug her back into you, pulling her in for a kiss. “shut up,” you murmur against her lips, tasting yourself on her tongue.

but before you can say anything more, she pulls back, her grin widening as she whispers, “round two at the hotel?”

you’ll never be able to look at her in a suit the same way again.

#paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers x reader #uconn x reader #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers headcannons #paige bueckers uconn #uconn huskies #uconn #paige bueckers fluff #paige bueckers smut #paige x reader #wlw fanfic #wlw smut #wlw post #lgbtqia #lgbtq

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anniebeemine · 3 months ago

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nesting mode- s.r x fem!reader

You giggled softly, one hand resting protectively over your growing bump as you watched Spencer struggle with the crib assembly. He was surrounded by a chaotic sea of crib parts, the manual awkwardly draped over his knee as he tried to fit two stubborn pieces together.

“We’ve lived here for, what, seven years,” you said with a teasing smile, “and we never bought a drill?”

Spencer looked up at you with a sheepish grin, then glanced around at the scattered tools. “Or a second screwdriver,” he added, his tone a mix of frustration and amusement.

You settled on the couch with a groan, sliding to the floor with a soft thud. You wanted to help him, but with one dull screwdriver that took over an hour to find and the large bump that barely let you breathe, it was hard.

“What about your sonic screwdriver?” You asked.

Spencer paused, then sighed in defeat. “It’s not actually functional,” he admitted, tossing the uncooperative crib pieces aside. Noticing the wide grin spreading across your face, he raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“You spent ninety dollars on an authentic sonic screwdriver, and it doesn’t even work?” you teased, laughter bubbling up as you shook your head in disbelief.

“I realize now that it probably wasn’t the best purchase,” Spencer replied, the corners of his mouth quirking up as he joined in your laughter, the frustration of the moment melting away.

Spencer sighed, moving the stubborn crib pieces and crawling over to you. He knelt beside you, leaning over your bump with a gentle smile. His hand moved soothingly over the curve of your belly, his touch light and tender.

“Well,” he began, speaking directly to your growing twins, “it looks like you two might just have to sleep in a sock drawer for a while.”

You laughed softly, your hand covering his as he continued to rub your belly. “A sock drawer, huh? That’s what you think our babies deserve?”

Spencer chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss on your bump. “Only the best for them,” he said, his voice filled with affection. “We’ll just have to make do until their dad figures out how to assemble a crib without any power tools.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Maybe we should call Derek. I’m sure he has a drill. Probably a whole toolbox, actually.”

Spencer feigned a pout. “You’re really going to call Derek to bail us out? This is going to be like the bookshelf disaster all over again."

You laughed, remembering the event all too well. "Disaster is putting it mildly. It took you, me, and Derek a whole weekend to get that thing standing, but it kept him humble." You grinned, threading your fingers through his hair. “I just want to make sure our babies don’t end up in a sock drawer, that’s all.”

Spencer smiled, his eyes soft as he looked up at you. “Fair point,” he conceded, resting his head on your bump. “But for now, they’re doing just fine in there.”

You hummed in agreement, your hand still gently rubbing his back. “Yeah, they are.”

But then, a sigh escaped your lips, and you couldn’t help but voice the thought that had been lingering in your mind. “I’m so tired of being pregnant, though,” you admitted with a small chuckle. “I feel like I’ve been carrying them forever.”

Spencer looked up at you, concern flickering in his eyes. “You’ve been amazing through all of this,” he said, his voice full of admiration. “But I know it’s been tough.”

You nodded, feeling a mix of exhaustion and determination. “It has been,” you agreed. “But at the same time, I feel... good. Like, I’m ready to meet them, but I’m also so protective of them. I want to make sure everything’s perfect before they get here.”

Spencer reached up, his hand covering yours on your bump. “They’re lucky to have you,” he whispered. “And so am I.”

You smiled down at him, feeling a surge of warmth and love. “We’re a team, Spencer. All four of us.”

The two of you stayed like that for a while, basking in the quiet intimacy of the moment, the half-assembled crib forgotten as you both focused on the tiny lives growing inside you, one of them currently trying to kick their father in the head. After a few more moments of peaceful quiet, Spencer sighed and stood up, brushing off his pants.

“Alright,” he said with a determined smile. “I think it’s clear we need to make a trip to the hardware store.”

He gathered his keys from the coffee table and began slipping on his socks, clearly intent on getting this crib situation sorted. As he was about to put on his shoes, you called out to him.

“Spencer?”

He turned back to you, a gentle smile on his face. “Yeah?"

You raised your hands towards him, giving him a sheepish look. “I need you to help me off the ground.”

Spencer chuckled softly, setting his shoes aside and walking back over to you. He reached down, taking your hands in his and gently pulling you up. As you got to your feet, he wrapped his arm around your waist to steady you.

“You okay?” he asked, concern lacing his voice as he watched you carefully.

You nodded, giving him a grateful smile. “Yeah, just… not as easy getting up as it used to be.”

Spencer grinned, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “Well, you’re carrying two future geniuses, so I think you’re doing pretty amazing.”

You laughed, resting your hand on his chest for balance. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Dr. Reid.”

He chuckled, guiding you towards the door. “In that case, let’s go get those tools. We’ve got a crib to finish.”

When you got home, Spencer carefully unpacked the new drill from its box, setting it up on the charger. He read the instructions, a habit of his, and then turned to you with a mischievous grin. “The drill should take about an hour to fully charge,” he said, his voice dipping slightly, eyes glinting with a hint of something more. “That gives us plenty of time to, you know… do other things.”

You raised an eyebrow, entirely missing the suggestive tone in his voice. “Oh, perfect!” you said, already shifting into a more practical mindset. “We still need to rearrange the books in the study. You could start with that while I go through the mail. I’ve been waiting for a letter from my penpal. And after that, maybe we could finally sort through that pile of clothes for donation?”

Spencer blinked, momentarily thrown off by your unintentional deflection. He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head as he realized you hadn’t caught onto his intentions. “Yeah,” he said with a light laugh, “I guess I could do that.”

You nodded, already mentally planning out the rest of the afternoon. “Great! The sooner we get those things done, the sooner we can get back to the nursery.”

Spencer smiled, watching you bustle around the room, completely oblivious to his original suggestion. “You really know how to keep me on my toes, don’t you?”

You turned to him with a sweet smile, still not quite catching on. “Of course! We’ve got a lot to prepare for.”

Spencer shook his head again, amused but not deterred. “Alright,” he said, moving towards the study, “I’ll get started on those books.”

As he walked away, he couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. Maybe he’d try again later, when the drill was fully charged and the tasks were done—if you didn’t find something else to occupy your time.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reidx reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #fanfic

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gracieheartspedro · 1 year ago

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Beggin' for Thread

part 2 of Trash Talk

pairing: fem!reader x abby anderson (post outbreak, set before the events of tlou2)

description: being stuck with abby and him-who-should-not-be-named on a mission is already a big problem. especially when you're not on your a-game. abby ends up saving your ass. but hey, it may not all be in vain. shit starts to get a bit better.

word count: 9.2k (HAHAHA I got wild with this one.)

warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, no use of y/n, no real descriptions of reader, nsfw, smut, wlw, some slight bullying, this part has a lot of murder in it (so if you're not good with violence, pls skip out), use of guns, graphic description of dead bodies, ow*n is in a lot of this (sorry), dom!abby, abby giving reader a bed bath, fingering, eating out, use of a strap on, dirty talk, name calling. someone lowkey walking in on sexy time? if I missed anything, please let me know.

author's note: the wait is over! the love on part 1 blows me away. I love you guys so fucking much. you each make my heart so happy. thank you thank you thank you!!

“Hey, Heartless. Glad you could join us today.”

His voice makes your skin crawl. You rub your eyes, trying to clear the haze out of your vision. You’re overly exhausted. After Abby left, you never found sleep. You could not get her out of your mind. She left you disoriented.

“Hey, Owen,” You mutter, his name tastes disgusting in your mouth. He was gross to look at, let alone talk to. You decide to occupy your mind by checking over the guns you were just dispensed while you sit and wait for the jeep you would be loaded into gets gassed up.

“Heard you and Abby got into it.”

You heart stops. He can’t know?

You hold your composure, not even flinching at the question. If he did know, you’re just going to deny it and tell him to fuck off.

“What are you talking about?” You play dumb, not ever looking up to meet Owen’s gaze above you.

“Manny told me you were going in on her yesterday,” He sounds a bit unnerved when he says it. You stop checking over your gun, finally meeting his eyes. Before you can respond, you cock the gun before flicking the safety on.

“It’s not my fault she can’t pull her fuckin’ punches. We could’ve easily been picked off one by one since she didn’t want to unload her gun at some Scars.”

You don’t even realize how bitter you sound until it all comes out like word vomit. You weren’t even that angry about that, you knew you could handle it all alone. It was the fact that she left you hanging last night and became cold so quick.

Owen chuckles, “Take it easy, dude. I’m just wonderin’ why you think it’s okay to talk to her like that.”

He’s sizing you up. Typical of a man like Owen.

You stand up, knowing damn well it was the wrong day for him to do some shit like this to you.

You sling your rifle over your shoulder, “I’m not in the mood to answer to some fuck ass like you. And I’m also sure your new nurse girlfriend wouldn’t like to hear that her boyfriend is trying to stick up for his ex.”

“Don’t bring Mel into this,” He begins, his stance shifting, “You don’t get to talk about her.”

“And you don’t get to weasel your way into my business because you’re some entitled idiot who thinks every woman owes you something,” You begin to side step past him, “For all our sake, keep your mouth shut and leave the leading to the girls.”

You don’t listen to the rest of the shit he spouts at you. You walk towards Manny, who’s standing next to another guy, you think his name is Alex. You give him a slight nod of acknowledgment.

“Hey there, cariño,” Manny says a smile creeping across his face, “Sleep well?”

Your skin crawls.

“Like a baby,” You mumble, your eyes feeling heavy as you respond, “Who are we waiting for?”

“Abby and Leah will be here any minute,” Alex explains as he finishes filling the jeep with fuel, “Think they went to grab some breakfast.”

Hearing Abby’s name next to another girl's name made your throat tighten. You can’t be jealous. She’s not yours.

Just as you’re about to say something about being late to your checkpoint, Manny's eyes avert up to the door leading into the stadium. Abby and Leah appear, both holding a plethora of breakfast burritos. Your stomach had been upset all morning because of anxiety, so the idea of food makes you want to hurl. You observe Abby and Leah hand each foiled wrapped tortilla to everyone, making jokes about being late.

Abby’s eyes lock onto yours as soon as her head turns in your direction. She blinks before avoiding your gaze for Manny’s.

“Nice for you guys to join us,” Alex jokes as Leah walks towards him with an extended hand, burrito in tow.

You scoff, “Yeah, we should’ve left 20 minutes ago.”

Abby’s face drops from a soft smile to a deadly glare. She gives Manny a burrito, her hands holding two remaining.

One was meant for you.

“Yeah? Well you should’ve gotten a head start by yourself. Cleared the way for everyone.”

Her sharpness filled you with rage. She extends some foil towards you. Before you can even say anything, your instincts are to swat her arm away. The burrito flies out of her hand, splattering across the concrete floor.

“What the fuck,” She yells, her eyes trained on your deadpan expression. You feel a hand on your shoulder, and you glance back to a stern looking Manny. He doesn’t want a repeat of yesterday.

You look back at Abby’s furrowed eyebrows, her scrunched face causing sharp pains to go across your chest.

“I don’t like burritos.”

She shakes her head, “So you launch it out of my fuckin’ hands when someone else could’ve eaten it?!”

You don’t say anything, just turn and begin your climb up onto the jeep. You slip onto the spot you found yourself in yesterday, closest to the passenger side.

You watch everyone hesitantly get in behind you.

“Are you okay taking the top floors with Owen and Abby? Or do you want to come with me and Leah?”

Manny is adjusting his rifle on his shoulder. You all arrived to the skyscraper you heard Scars were trying to take over to get some higher ground on a popular WLF route. Your goal is to take out every Scar there and prepare it for WLF occupation.

Manny wanted to make sure you would not act up for Abby and Owen. He didn’t want to deal with the fallout if there was another incident involving you. He really liked you, he didn’t want to see you getting chewed out or possibly killed. You appreciated him looking out for you.

“That’s fine,” you settle your hands confidently on your gun, “I will be on my best behavior, Manny. Promise.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

You stay back from the rest of the group as you all walk quietly through the destroyed streets of Seattle. Luckily this area wasn’t consistently flooded, so you didn’t have to wade through any filthy water today.

Abby walks in front of you next to Leah and Owen. You stare at her backside, trying not to make yourself too obvious. You need to cut it out, you need to focus.

When you all finally make it to the building, you huddle in with the group to remind each person where they are going. You and Manny hashed it out already so you want to be positive you knew where everyone would be if all hell broke loose.

Owen cringes when he hears that you’d be joining him and Abby.

You all split up to your designated places. You let Owen lead not wanting to argue when Scars could be on any corner. He starts towards a staircase, his gun trained forward. You follow him before Abby does, which means she gets to be behind you now. You three head up each staircase, your guns resting on your shoulders. You are as quiet as mice, your footfalls silent.

Owen stops, turning back to you and Abby.

“I hear them,” He whispers, pointing up the flight you have yet to go up. You nod, gesturing him to press forward. He continues on. This is when your adrenaline turns to numbness. You forget the emotions you had before you were in this staircase, they are now replaced with pure instinct.

Owen creeps open the door and that’s when you hear it.

A whistle from behind you.

You snap back, your finger and eyes reacting at the same time. A single Scar with their bow trained right on Abby. With one squeeze, they are on the ground bleeding and Abby jumps forward towards your body. She wraps her arms around your waist, her gun aimed towards the door Owen just opened. More whistling.

“Go!”

You’re not even focused on the fact that Abby has her hands on you, pulling your attention back to the open room of about 10 Scars. Owen is lighting up the room, but firing aimlessly. You hunch down, taking cover behind the door frame. Abby is beside you, tightly gripping onto her gun. You glance over at her. She’s not panicked, she’s not rattled. She’s angry.

You smirk at her, sickly enjoying her in this state.

You snap forward, aiming everywhere you see movement. Luckily Owen got the few at the front of the room. One, two, three, drop in their puddles of blood. When more gunfire erupts behind you, instinct is to look back. So when you look back at Abby firing skillfully at the people you missed, you just about fall to your knees.

When you look back, you realize no more movement stirs the smokey room.

“Everyone okay?” Owen calls out as you step forward as you wander around each piece of furniture in the room. You want to make sure you’re vigilant.

“I’m good, are you?”

You step over a man’s body as you spot a foot move behind a desk.

When you make it over to the body, it’s a girl with her hand over her neck. You aimed at her earlier, you could’ve sworn you aimed higher.

The fact that your initial thought was how you killed her made your brain snap back. What the fuck are you doing?

She’s trying to speak, but nothing is coming out. Blood is pooling on her chest and hands. You kneel down to her, your demeanor changing from violent murderer to grieving friend. Even with the scars littering her face, she looks just like any other girl you may know. Her mouth is moving but nothing is coming out. You reach out your hand, touching her leg.

You can feel your stomach flip when you notice a tear slipping from her eye. Guilt riddles your bones, the blood spilling from her by your own hand.

You swallow thickly before you mutter the words, “I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”

She lets out one final breath.

You stand, your legs feeling wobbly. You look back at Abby and Owen. He’s not focused on you, but Abby can’t look away from your actions. She gives you a curious look, watching you stumble a bit.

“What is it?”

You can’t even form words, too taken aback from watching the life slip from that girl’s eyes. It brought you back to when you were a child, watching your sister die. That could’ve been someone’s sister.

“What the fuck are we even doing?” You ask, trying not to stutter.

Owen finally looks over at you after stealing a guy’s gun magazine, “What are you talking about?”

You know you’ll get in trouble for saying what you really want to say. You can’t trust either of them. Everything would get back to Isaac.

So you don’t say anything.

You finish clearing the room, trying to avoid looking at the faces of the deceased. Owen and Abby leave the room while you trail behind them slowly. You’re on edge, trying to shake the emotions and ideas running through your head. It’s the same emotion you felt when that guy tried to force you to butcher a child, probably not even above the age of 10. Their mother stood by, screaming the child’s name, but you were too busy staring into the child’s eyes.

They are just like us. What are we doing?

Owen kicks open another door, leading you and Abby through what you assumed was an old board room. There was no one there, but as you looked across the water damaged floor, you notice one of the shattered glasses windows. You creep closer, the glass crunching under your boots. You look down to the street, the grass overtaking the main road. You start to imagine what this place probably looked like before the infection.

Now it’s a wasteland.

You realize how high up you are when you hear a shaky breath behind you. Abby stands close to you, trying to see what you’re seeing, but instead she starts to panic over the height you were at. You face her, remembering all the times you were forced to take the high ground with her, only for her to have a panic attack and leave you alone.

She’s practically dry heaving. You push her back, nudging her to get away from the open window.

“We don’t need you throwing up,” You grumble, your hand on her shoulder, “Stay back.”

She swallows, shaking her head. “Deal.”

Owen scopes out an attached room before you three continue pressing on. You needed to clear every room that wasn’t destroyed by time and vegetation.

You pander down an empty hallway by yourself, trying to ensure your footsteps are not loud. You grip your gun when you hear a couple voices in a separate stairway. You press yourself against the wall next to the exit, waiting for the voices to get closer.

“There can’t be that many left. We already got two of them.”

You snap your head the direction Abby and Owen were the last time you saw them. Now it’s only Abby. She stares at you, her eyes glinting with curiosity. You nod towards the door next to you, cocking your gun.

She knows what that means. She jogs over, trying not to be too loud.

When she gets to your side, she gets into a defensive stance. The voices are coming down the stairs, you think.

“Aim up. There’s two.”

She nods right before you kick open the door, exposing the two people on the stairs. They don’t even have time to raise their weapons before Abby riddles them with bullets.

The sound attracts Owen, who comes stomping down the hallway.

“There’s more, go down!”

You hold your ground, shaking your head, “We can’t! Isaac said we need to c-”

“Fuck what he said. We are gonna die if we stay!”

Owen is never one to abandon a mission, so you take his word for it. But you know what you heard, if they did kill 2 people, one of them could’ve been Manny. And if they killed Manny, you don’t know what you’d do. Manny is the only other person you can tolerate in the WLF. Besides… you know.

You have to just hope he’s okay.

Abby’s eyes widen as she looks down the hall where Owen was just coming from. Whistles erupt and you know what that means. Abby grabs your free hand, practically ripping your arm out of the socket as she takes off down the stairs.

You’re practically being dragged down the steps, skipping multiple steps at once as Abby never gives up your hand. Owen is close behind, but every so often, he stops to aim up the stairs to spray bullets. He’s trying to slow them down, but he’s also probably attracting more to your location. A door swings open in Abby’s path, and without even thinking for a millisecond, you lift up your gun and shoot directly into the opening. It was just one guy and your aim was spot on. Your mind is solely on protecting the girl who’s incapable of letting go of your hand.

“Keep moving!”

Another five flights and you’re finally on the ground floor. Abby finally releases your hand, letting you catch your breath for a second as Owen stands his ground and lights up the staircase behind you.

“We need to find the others! Now!” Abby yells over the gunfire.

You stumble forward, checking down the hallway you watched Manny and Leah go down before you three walked up the stairs. You don’t even say anything, you just start running down the corridor. Your throat is tight just thinking of Manny’s lifeless body.

Two Scars appear behind a corner and you expertly shoot them, running straight pass them without hestitating. You’re in fight or flight mode, your body shaking with fear that you could stumble upon a horrible scene.

You don’t know when you start doing it, but you start screaming his name. Over and over again. You’re giving away where you are to the enemy, but you did not care.

Before you can finish slaughtering more people, Manny and Leah yell your name from a room at the end of the hall. When you get to the door, you kick it open with all your might, breaking through the door with your foot.

“¿Qué pasó? Are you alright!?”

You’re panting and on edge, so when you see Manny’s concerned face, you breath a sigh of relief. His voice brings a bit of comfort as well.

Abby finally makes it to you, her boots halting right behind you, while her hands find the sides of your body.

“We gotta go! There’s more Scars than we thought. We either go or die!”

You swallow thickly, your body buzzing at the feeling of Abby’s large hands on your hips. She’s not doing it on purpose, it’s almost like she needs to have you close. She needs to protect you just like you protected her.

Manny glances over at Leah, nodding in agreement that they are on the same page. Abby pulls you away from the threshold so they can leave the room they were scoping out. Owen gets to you four, informing everyone where he thinks the Scars could hide and how they would probably make your escape hard. Abby’s hands are still on you.

You glance back at her, your lips slightly ajar. She looks down at you with hooded lids.

“We are getting out of here and you’re not leaving my side, got it?” She whispers for your ears only. You just nod.

You’re just following everyone at this point, keeping your finger trained on the trigger of your gun. Abby follows you closely, not letting you out her eyeline. You run through each corridor, trying to seek out a good exit. When you finally reach the end of a hallway, you peer out the floor to ceiling windows to see if you spot any Scars outside. There’s two rooms beside you that look like they are empty, but there’s no light shining through the thresholds. This is the only way out down this hallway. You were sick of being a sitting duck. When you realize you have no other choices you liked, you shoot out the window.

The group jumps back at your reaction.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Owen yells, smacking your shoulder hard. You turn your gun and aim it right at him. Abby’s eyes widen at your action, her arm instantly going up to block the barrel of your gun. She’s pleading with you, her eyes never leaving yours.

“I’m getting us out of here. Why do you insist on being a prob-”

Before you can get the rest of the word out, you hear footsteps approaching you quickly from the right. All you can remember is the air being taken from your lungs and your body flying sideways, away from Abby’s protective stance.

When you come to, you’re being held up by someone. You blink slowly, but your eyes will not focus on the person whose arms are holding you tight.

“What’s happening?” You manage to mutter. As you say it, you taste blood. Your ears are ringing, but you can still hear the voices around you. They are yelling to run faster!

“You’re gonna be fine, okay babe?”

You know that voice.

“You can’t call me that.”

She slows down a bit just to look at you, “Can call you whatever I want.”

Your head hurts. You know you can not fight the exhaustion plaguing your body. You can’t even argue back to her. You shut your eyes again, succumbing to the darkness.

You notice the pounding headache first. Then the very dimly lit hospital room you’re in. Then the presence in the corner of the room.

“Welcome back,” Her voice is smooth and velvety. You prop yourself a bit, but as soon as you do, it’s like the pressure in your head doubles. You feel like your brain may implode, the pain pulsating against your skull. You try to widen your eyes to focus on her, but your brain cannot muster enough energy to do so. Your vision is just slightly blurred while you train your eyes on her.

“What happened?” Your voice is weak and your mouth is dry. You try your best to create saliva, but nothing really happens when you smack your chapped lips.

“You got tackled by a Scar before any of us could see him coming. Asshole was quick. You smacked your head pretty hard on the floor,” She stands up from the chair in the corner, making her way closer to you. She’s not wearing the same shirt as yesterday. She’s in a long sleeve thermal, the light off white is a good color on her.

You blink slowly, trying to take in the information, “What happened to him?”

“Manny shot him when I was ripping him off you. It attracted a lot more of them. I grabbed you before anyone else could and just took off running.”

You look up at her when she gets to your side. You don’t say anything, just shake your head. You can’t believe Abby, of all people, saved you from possible death. She had your back the whole time, even though you gave her shit. You didn’t even realize the small glances, the quick actions when you were in your own zone.

All you could think about the whole time is how you were totally off your game and Isaac was going to have your neck for it.

“And the rest of the group?”

“They were close behind. We made it back to the jeep pretty quickly. I held you in the back until we could get to the hospital. That’s where we are now.”

“Who didn’t make it out?”

Her lips go into a thin line, “Alex and Kerrigan.”

Alex was the guy from earlier this morning with Manny. He seemed nice enough, surely he didn’t deserve to die. Kerrigan was a girl you remember from a couple of meetings with Isaac. She was a smaller girl, quick on her feet and very quiet. You can’t even really remember her face, which makes you feel bad.

“Shit… I’m sorry we couldn’t get to them.”

“Not your fault. They knew what they were getting into when we had them join patrols. I know Owen’s taking it pretty hard.”

You want to smack her for even bringing up his name. But you don’t. You know she still may have a special place in her heart for him. You just despised him, especially after he confronted you this morning. Prick.

She’s taking her time explaining things to you. You realize she’s not ever looking away from you when she speaks, something she usually does when you stare at her. She’s watching you carefully, her beautiful eyes soft with empathy.

“Are you okay?” You question, reaching out to her closest hand. She doesn’t pull away when you grab it, bringing it into your side.

She bites her cheek, “Yeah, course I am. Just glad I got you out of there.”

The softness of her whisper brings warmth to your entire body. You didn’t care about your head, or how hot the room was, or how you may have serious repercussions when you got back to the Stadium.

What mattered is that she’s here. She’s here and she wants to be. You felt relief that she may have come to her senses about what happened between you two. Something had to of changed.

“What changed? Why are you so dead set on helping me now?”

She winces, probably not expecting you to ask such a question. She contemplates for a minute, licking her lips to prepare herself for what she’s about to say.

“I can’t stop thinking about last night. Made me realize how I really feel about you,” You’re heart races at her words. You’re amazed when she continues, “I think I was scared of having those types of emotions for you. That’s why I couldn’t stay. I didn’t want to lay in your bed and overthink everything when it’s pretty simple.”

You furrow your eyebrows, “What’s simple?”

“The fact that I like you. And I have for awhile.”

It’s like the world stops and it’s just you and Abby. You can tell she’s nervous to say it, but she needed it off her chest like it was suffocating her. She lefts out a long huff, crouching down in a squat. Her unraveling braid falls onto her shoulder and you let your eyes trail it down to her chest. You notice some blood speckled in with her freckles, right near her button nose and cheekbones.

“Yeah, I like you, too.”

She smiles subtly, trying not to get too excited over the confession. But the truth was that she wanted to jump up and down in elation. She had never had someone confide in her about their feelings for her, so the idea that someone as beautiful as you could like her despite all her baggage, it gave her hope.

“I want to go home,” You grumble not sure what else to say, your thumb running over the back of her hand, “I wanna go home with you.”

“The doctor here wants to monitor you another day. I have to ship out and get back to explain to Isaac what happe-“

“No, fuck that,” You squeeze her hand, “You’re staying here with me and bringing me back to the Stadium. I’m not going back with anyone else.”

She notes the serious nature of your tone. She looks up at you with those eyes. Abby Anderson could very well be the death of you.

“I can’t refuse orders, babe,” She states, her eyes falling to your joined hands.

“Bullshit, Abby. If you tell Isaac I want you as my transport, he will let you stay. I don’t want to be with anyone else.”

You’re practically panicking thinking about Abby leaving without you. With the way you feel now, you don’t want to be out without her. She felt like the safest person to have around. You can’t trust anyone else.

You start to finally bring wetness back to your mouth, “Tell him that you need to be with me.”

“You know damn well everyone will be suspicious. I need to go back. You need to stay here. Nora will take you back, you’ll be s-“

“Get me out of this fuckin’ bed right now. I’m going with you.”

You stay to move but your body feels like jello. As soon as you try to plant your feet on the ground, Abby is reaching over your legs and placing them back on the gurney.

“Babe,” She pleads, “Just… fuck. Okay fine, I’ll stay. I’ll stay. We can both answer to Isaac when we get back, I guess.”

Relief rushes over your body.

“He’s going to have a lot to say to me, that’s for sure. I failed two missions in a row that usually are a piece of cake,” You put your free hand over your forehead. You’re sweating so bad. You glance over at Abby who’s reaching over to one of the tables by your bed for a rag, “I’m not a submissive girl to him like I am to you.”

She smirks up at you. She can’t believe you admitted to being a submissive to her.

“Yeah, you are, aren’t you?”

If your body didn’t feel like shit, you know you’d be grabbing Abby by her collar and hauling her up on the bed to kiss you. She made your face go hot, her piercing eyes raking down your body. You almost felt embarrassed being so vulnerable in front of her.

“Stop looking at me like that,” You warn, adjusting your butt on the hard bed.

“Like what?”

You rake your mind for a response. You settle for repeating something she said to you yesterday.

“Shut that stupid smart mouth up for a minute,” You try to mock her but you sound nothing like her. She laughs at your half assed imitation. She pats your head with the cold rag, getting all the sweat off your forehead.

“Get some sleep, you weirdo.”

“How ya doin’, princess?”

You shake your head at the nickname, smacking her arm with your left hand. You’re still weak and tired, but you felt a lot better with some extra rest. Abby loaded you up in a jeep as soon as you could hobble outside, and now you are heading back to the stadium. You couldn’t wait to get in your bed and sleep for three days straight.

“‘M good, thanks.”

Her smile is the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen. You didn’t know what this meant for you two, but you were excited to see how things would change over time for you two. Maybe you’d be put on less patrols together, but you could spend your free days and nights with her. After all this time, you could have her.

She taps her fingers on the steering wheel, “Can I ask you something?”

“Depends.”

She slows down the car to glance over at you, “What did you mean when you asked what the hell we were doing? Yesterday when that Scar was trying to reach out to you as she was dying?”

Your heart sinks. Your mind instantly goes to betrayal. Abby is only acting like this towards you because she wants information. She wants to rat you out.

You go from thinking about your deep desire for Abby to thinking about how to protect yourself, she’s going to ruin your life. You’re instantly spiraling.

“I don’t know what you’re asking me. Are you insinuating something?”

You watch as panic spread across her face. She realizes how bad she sounds asking such a question.

“No, no,” She’s starting to stutter and use her hands as she speaks, “That’s not what I meant by it.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“I’m just wondering if you feel the same guilt I feel sometimes! You know, like when you kill a someone and watch the life leave their eyes, I don’t know. Jesus.”

You breathe a sigh of relief. She wasn’t trying to double cross you, just emphasize with you. You really can not trust yourself to think the worst of everyone. Maybe because it felt like everything with Abby was too good to be true.

You wet your lips, “Yeah, that’s what I meant. I don’t like to… I never enjoy killing people. I never have.”

She can’t help but laugh a bit. “Well you’re really fuckin’ good at it.”

“Top Scar killer in all the WLF,” You wince when you say it. She doesn’t say anything just shakes her head, speeding up the jeep down an old abandoned alleyway. You weren’t too far from the entrance to the Stadium.

She clears her throat, “There’s only one person I’d really enjoy killing.”

Abby has never shared a lot about her past. You knew she and the Salt Lake crew were former Fireflies. You knew that she lost her dad not too long before she got to Seattle. But that’s all the information you managed to get out of her when you two were close before. She didn’t want to talk about herself, she’d rather hear about your tortured past.

“Who?”

“Joel Miller,” Silence takes over the cabin of the car. You have no idea who that is or why she cared to kill him. Before you can ask, she speaks up again, “The man who killed my father.”

You understand what it feels like to want revenge. But you also know what it’s like to finally get it. Most of the time you still feel bad. Nothing brings back the dead, not even the satifaction of watching their killer’s take their last breaths. You brutualized the man who killed your sister, and it never made her death any easier. But you knew that yearning was different for everyone. Maybe it would make Abby feel better.

You decide it’s best to just nod, acknowledging her desire.

The rest of the ride is pretty quiet, just the sound of crackling of rocks under the SUV’s tires. When you get to the entrance of the Stadium, Abby waves and calls out to the gatekeeper. He opens the tall wired fence and lets you two pass through. As soon as Abby parks, it’s like a swarm of people surround you two. Abby gestures you to wait so she can get your door. You laugh thinking about that stupid saying some old people say.

Maybe chivalry isn’t dead.

She swings open the door, pushing aside some random guy who’s staring you down. You grab Abby’s shoulder as you ease yourself onto the concrete. You were still a bit unsteady when you walked. It was a mixture of the weakness but also Nora told you that the concussion you have is probably causing balance issues. You took her word for it.

“Top Scar killer not looking so well, now,” The guy mutters from behind Abby, “Who knows, maybe one of us can be Isaac’s favorite ass kisser!”

You don’t even know the guy and the vibe he’s giving off is making you nervous. He’s about 5’8” and stocky. Abby could take him herself, but you don’t feel the need for her to fight for your honor after everything that you two have been through in the last two days. Abby huffs out in annoyance, ensuring you’re able to stand properly. You start to walk towards the ramp that leads up to the Stadium’s main corridors. The guy is still muttering shit as Abby unloads your backpack and hers.

“What are you friends with her now, Abby?”

“Can you fuck off? Does it look like either of us are in the mood?” She spits, slinging your backpack over her shoulder. You stand and wait at the base of the ramp for her to catch up. The guy just follows her closely, interrogating her about the mission that failed. Abby just ignores him, her eyes locked on yours. Before she makes it to you, the guy asks one final question.

“What do you have a crush on her or something?”

Abby drops her backpack on the ground, and within seconds, she has the guy pinned to a truck parked near the ramp. His body makes a loud thwack when he hits the metal. Her back muscles flex as she tightens her grip. As hot as it is, you don’t feel like watching her beat someone bloody for something so dumb. You weren’t feeling your fiesty self, you just wanted to be in bed.

“Did anyone ever fuckin’ teach you manners or are you just that fuckin’ dense?” She has her teeth clenched. As you get close, you see that she’s ripping his t-shirt. Your moving slowly, but as soon as violent words are being exchanged, you firmly grab Abby’s arm. She peels her eyes away from the guy, her face still scrunched in frustration.

“Just let him talk his shit, Abs. He’s just jealous because he can’t get any pussy.”

You don’t even know why you included the last part, but it only aggravates the guy more. You aren’t very good at deescalation. You usually instigate things, it’s your specialty.

Luckily, the master of settling fights comes running down the ramp. Manny.

“Hey, you guys just got home and you’re already stirring up trouble?”

Abby still has the guy pinned, his eyes trained on your fragile frame.

Manny grabs Abby’s arms and pries her off the guy, his body blocking you away from the guy as well. He starts speaking Spanish under his breath, probably venting his frustrations about Abby and you not giving him a moment of peace.

He talks down the guy, guiding him away from you and Abby. You bend over to grab her bag and shakingly hand it back to her. She watches carefully as Manny escorts the guy further down the parking lot. With her free arm, she wraps it protectively around you. You get chills up your arms and back as you two walk into the Stadium. You’re surprised she’s showing any inkling of liking you to other people, especially her peers. You know there were probably about 10 other people in the parking lot, and they for sure saw her sticking up for you.

She drops her arm as soon as you make it to the main hallways. People glare over at you as you drudge yourself down the halls, finally making it to a staircase that would put you right in front of your room. Abby lets you start up the stairs first while she stands behind you, keeping her eyes wide in case you fall backwards. You’re relieved as you reach the last step and spot your door waiting for you.

Abby runs ahead of you, grabbing the door and wiggling the knob.

“It’s locked.”

She rolls her eyes, “I know that now. Where’s your key?”

You turn your jaw upward and gesture towards the necklace. “Here.”

Instead of making you unravel it, she lifts her hands up to your chest. Her fingers travel down from your neck to your collarbones. She’s teasing you and it’s working.

She grabs the key and toys with it for a minute, trying to release the clasp. Once she figures it out, she holds the key up like a grand prize.

“You’re so stupid, please let me in my room.”

She giggles as she sticks the key into the latch and turns it, “Patience, princess.”

Once the door clicks, she opens it for you. The cold air of your room rushes out and cools your sweaty and dirty skin. You get a sense of solace when you walk in, your body feeling a bit reenergized at the sight.

Abby walks close to you, shutting the door behind her. She shimmies off your bag, dropping her own near the door.

“You mind if I stay for a bit?”

Butterflies creep into the pit of your stomach. You turn to face her, spotting a somewhat hesitant girl picking at her cuticles.

“I was hoping you would. Maybe you could give me a bed bath, just like my nurse did.”

She nods, a smirk plastered across her freckled face.

“If you need me to, I can for sure do that,” She starts to walk over to your sink, searching for some sort of bowl or towel, “I could probably do a better job.”

You stumble over to the side of your bed, kicking off your boots with a grunt. You know exactly where this is going, and even with your weakened body, you want her so bad.

She continues to search around, finding a large bowl and a couple of your wash rags. She fills the bowl with the warmest water as you peel off some of your clothes, leaving you in just your underwear and tank top.

“A better job, huh?”

She finds a bar of soap near your shampoo bottles. She sniffs it before she bounds over to you.

“Yeah,” She places the bowl on your side table, dropping a rag inside it to soak it, “I think I know your body a little bit better than Nora. Especially after the other night.”

She can’t talk to you like this, especially now that you’re in your underwear. You scoot over on the bed to allow her to sit as she rings out the blue rag. She lathers a bit of soap on it before she starts with your arms.

She grabs your wrist delicately, lifting it so she can clean the dust and dirt off. You watch her so intently, watching her wipe you down. When she finishes one arm, she does the other. She takes her time, tilting it back and forth to ensure she got every side.

“You want me to do your legs next?”

You smile as she soaks the towel again and ring it out. “You can do whatever you want, Abs.”

She raises her eyebrows as she creeps further down the bed. She kicks off her shoes, settling herself between your slightly spread legs.

“This bringing you back?” You question, slightly adjusting yourself so your legs get closer to her sides. She shakes her head sheepishly, grabbing your right ankle.

“Hmm, maybe,” She traces your legs with the rag, using her other colder hand to rub in the wet areas, “If you weren’t so weak, I’d treat you just as well as the other night.”

Even in your broken state, you can’t help yourself. “Easier to control me when I’m like this.”

She chuckles, shaking her head, “That’s taking advantage of you, and that’s not my style.”

I guess now that she confessed her feelings for you, you had to deal with a softer Abby. One that wouldn’t take control of you in the public showers. You watch as she softly runs the lavender scented towel up and down your bruised and battered legs. She is focused, not looking at you, but her eyes trailing up and down from your thighs to your ankles.

You sit up further, leaning forward and raising your fingers down to her chin. You tilt her focus to your gaze.

“What if I want you to? Ya’ know, give you my consent?”

Her eyes darken as she settles back a bit, making your hand fall from her face. She tenses up her shoulders before rolling them back, easing herself into the idea of getting between your legs again. You smile watching her do the mental gymnastics.

Her hand settles back onto your thigh, “You’re so desperate.”

You know you got her.

Without saying another word, her hand travels up to your underwear. She softly places her hand over your mound, her thumb tracing your clothed slit. You lay back as wetness pools in the spot she’s touching, your body heating up naturally.

Before she goes any further, she pulls away and plops the rag into the warm water on your side table.

She leans forward towards you, repositioning her entire body by propping herself on her elbows right in front of your core. It was hot watching the girl you were obsessed with settling herself, still fully clothed, before your heat. You could cum at the sight alone.

She rubs small circles right where your eager clit was through your panties. Before you can even moan out for her, she slips past the fabric and dips her pointer finger into your core. As soon as she does that, it feels like the coil may snap. You didn’t even realize how horny she has you. Maybe it was the anticipation or maybe it was the fact that this time you knew her true feelings for you. Hate sex was hot, but sex when you know she’s plagued with thoughts of you when you’re not even around, that was even better.

You don’t expect her next move. Instead of sliding your panties off, she uses minimal strength to just rip them in half.

As soon as you’re fully exposed for her, she turns into an animal. She mewls at your glistening slit.

“All for me?” She questions before leaning in to pepper kisses all along the wet trail. You can’t help but whimper desperately at the action.

“Yes, Abs. All for you.”

She flattens her tongue, moving further into you. Her actions are painfully slow, taking her time to drink you up. You instinctively try to close your legs together when she starts to move faster, being overwhelmed by her maneuvers. As soon as you try to move, she’s using her strong arms to hold you down. Your legs are practically pinned to the bed, her right hand still sticky from your center.

She shakes her head back and forth, creating a whole new feeling in your stomach. You don’t even think about how loud you’re being for her, not caring if the older guy next to you hears how loud you’re getting for Abby fucking Anderson.

For not being with women often, Abby knew exactly how to treat your pussy. She decides to change it up and add her fingers back into the equation. Once her index and middle finger enter you, you know that familiar feeling heating up your stomach.

“Abby, fuck, don’t stop.”

And she doesn’t. Instead she quickens her mistrations, her lips enveloping your clit and her fingers fucking you faster. You reach down, grabbing her braid and the crown of her head and push her further into you as your orgasm crashes down. She drinks you down, taking everything you gave her.

She pulls away from you, her face wet with your slick.

“Such a good girl for me,” She continues to play with you, her fingers remaining in your heat, “Do you need me to stop? Or do you want me to give it to you like I did before?”

You smirk as you glance towards the toy that you tucked back into your side table.

“It’s in there,” You croak out, “Need you to.”

She reaches over you, her body pressed against your stomach as she opens the top drawer and grabs the strap. Your stomach is reeling in anticipation, ready to watch Abby on top you.

When she gets it out, she rolls off the bed completely. You watch as she strips off her shirt, leaving her bra on. You still are in disbelief of her body, her muscles highlighted perfectly by the glisten of sweat. She keeps her underwear on but you crave to see how wet she is.

“Take the underwear off,” You say, reaching out to touch her toned stomach, “Wanna see all of you.”

She puts the strap on, ignoring your request.

“I’m not taking any demands from you right now, sweetheart. You take what I give you.”

You loved seeing her be dominant. Seeing the appendage hang from her center makes you throb. She gets back on top of you, caging your body in with her strong arms. She nudges your nose with hers, teasing you by keeping her lips inches away from yours.

“Need you, Abs.”

She captures your lips as soon as the words leave your mouth. Her lips aren’t the only thing moving into you, her hips grind into your open core. The plastic cock does not enter you, but the mixture of her kissing you and grinding is enough to send you into maddening moans.

Her swollen lips pull away, her eyes dark as she lines herself up with your opening. She drags the cock up and down, gathering your slick before easing it inside. You see stars as it stretches you, your voice hearse and gutteral. Abby eats it up. She zeros in on watch it ease out of you and split you wide open. You’re so wet, the squelching sends her to another dimension. She settles into a pace that was agnoizingly slow, taking her time with your body. She reaches behind your legs and bends them so they wrap around her waist. The new angle allows her to hit you in all the right places.

Your orgasm is building with each stroke. She’s smiling while your mouth is set in an “o” shape, loving the reactions she was getting out of you.

“Jesus, taking me so fuckin’ well, baby,” She mewls, her hands caressing up your sides to grab onto a very important part of your body that she hardly played with this time around. You’re not wearing a bra under your tank top, so when her hands make it under the white fabric, her fingers pinch at your nipples. “You love when I fuck you like this don’t you?”

“Yes, Abby, please. I need to cum.”

She leans forward, bringing her greedy lips to yours. Since your lips are already open, her tongue enters your mouth. You suck at it, trying to get her to pay attention to your pleas. She retracts back, fucking into you harder.

“Cum for me, then, you little slut.”

The words send you overboard. You’re falling, crashing. The waves of pleasure take over every achy muscle, your body jerking forward into Abby’s sweaty upper body. She wraps her arms around you, fucking into you still as you fall apart. You don’t know the words you’re saying, you’re just loudly whispering into her ear.

Once your vision clears up, you look to the side to check your position out in the mirror ontop of your dresser. You looked like a fucked out mess, but Abby is the most beautiful thing you ever did see.

You’re trying to catch your breath, your body feeling even weaker than before. Fucking someone when you had a concussion was probably not the best idea, but god damn did every part of you feel like it was buzzing. Abby stands up, her legs wobbly from being on her knees so long.

“Do you want me to make you cum?”

She smiles at your question, but she shakes her head. She yanks down the strap, opening the side drawer and tossing it in.

“No, I just wanted to treat you. You can repay the favor when you’re feeling better.”

You start to laugh, throwing yourself back into your pillows. As soon as Abby starts to crawl back into bed, there’s a loud knock at your door. You’re both half naked, so the scramble for clothes is instanteous. You grab the first pair of pants you see and as you’re yanking them up your legs, you realize they are Abby’s.

“Coming in!”

It’s Isaac’s voice. Your stomach drops as the knob turns and you and Abby stand completely still in your spots. Her pants don’t fit you well at all, so hold them over your private area to block any eyes from it.

He doesn’t even make eye contact with you, he instantly meets Abby’s panicked gaze.

“What the hell?” He turns to you and immediately turns his back, “Well I see that you’re feeling better.”

Your blood ran cold.

“Yeah, can you uh, give us a minute?”

He doesn’t say anything, just opens the door and slams it behind him. You’re appalled that he even opened the door without confirmation of that being okay. Your eyes snap over to Abby, who’s look of fear turns into rage. You yank off her pants and toss them to her.

“We’re fucked,” She mumbles, putting her clothes on. You search a nearby dresser drawer for some sweatpants and pull down your ragged tank top. You look back at Abby to check to make sure she’s clothed before you head back to the door and let Isaac in.

You nod at her before grabbing the handle and pulling the door open. When you meet his gaze, he doesn’t look impressed. You are shocked to see another figure beside him. Manny.

“Hey there,” Manny greets, his eyes showing a bit of hesitance. “We good to come in now?”

You don’t say anything, just open the door wider for them to step through the threshold. Abby stands by your desk, her arms crossed. She tries to keep an emotionless expression, but you can tell she’s pissed. And maybe a bit nervous.

“Just checking in to see how you are,” Isaac says, his pacing leading him to one of the chairs in the corner of your room. You bite the inside of your cheek.

“Just a concussion. Some bruises. Should be good to get back on after some of the nurses here clear me.”

You try to sound confident but you’re still somewhat dazed from the sex you just had. You lean against the beam in the center of your room, trying your best not to look over to see what Abby is doing. You could still feel your cum dripping down your leg.

“Yeah I don’t think you’ll be getting back on any time soon,” Isaac says, his demeanor changing towards you, “I still don’t trust you. And now you’re sleeping with Abby? You think I don’t see what you’re trying to do?”

Your heart sinks, “What the hell are you talking about?”

Manny clears his throat, “Owen told us you were questioning the mission. That you weren’t pulling your punches. Letting some Scars live.”

“Well, he’s a fuckin’ liar!” Your voice is cracking, unsure of how to defend yourself. You were pissed at Owen and you knew that emotion would turn into vengeance. They can’t ostracize you for something like that. They can’t kill you for being empathetic. Can they?

“She never said that,” Abby finally speaks up, “I was there. Owen has it wrong.”

“Abby…” Isaac says in a warning tone, “You better not be lying for her.”

Abby scoffs, “When have I ever lied to you? Never. I am not lying for her. Owen was the one who refused your orders and got us all to leave. He said we go or we die. You shouldn’t be reprimanding her. She told him we had a job to do.”

Isaac halts in his rebuttal, thinking of what his next move should be.

Manny crosses his arms. You’re so pissed, you want to slap him. How dare he go against you and be here to watch Isaac try to accuse you of something like this? What did you ever do to him?

“Is this true?” Isaac questions, standing up to get closer to your slightly hunched over frame.

You don’t even hesitate, knowing this was all going to fall back on Owen. You wanted to see how that ended for him.

“Yes. I knew I could not let you down another time. I would never risk something like that. I’m loyal to you and this cause. I am sorry if I let you down again. I wanted to finish the job, I really did.”

You were an outstanding liar. And now you know, Abby was, too. She also had your back. Which made you like her even more.

Isaac tries to sense any deception but there’s nothing written on either of your faces to indicate that.

“Report back to me in two days,” He says to you with a very stern voice, “and Anderson, I’ll see you tomorrow morning. You’re first patrol out.”

When he’s satisfied with his interrogation, he turns to Manny.

“Well, I guess you were right about one thing.”

Manny furrows his eyebrows at the slightly shorter man, unsure what he’s talking about. “Sir?”

“They are fucking each other, but they aren’t liars,” He turns back to you and Abby, giving you two a kurt nod.

You cross your arms, watching Isaac leave the room and bump into Manny as he does. You don’t even want to deal with him right now, so you wave him out, not saying anything to him. You would deal with him later. Right now, you need a back rub and sleep. And that’s exactly what you intended to get when that door slammed on Manny’s ass on his way out.

#abby the last of us #abby anderson #abby from tlou #abby x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson tlou2 #the last of us 2 #gracieheartspedro #the last of us #tlou part 2 #the last of us part ii #tlou2

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elkkiel · 3 months ago

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Okay! Here's a transcription of the tier 4 bundle page from Sumerian's twitter. Please let me know if I screwed anything up or if it's tough to read at all; I tried to work around the obscured parts as best I could, but all the notes might have made it cluttered. There's also several words I couldn't read, as well as some partially-visible words I couldn't figure out lol

15 days since convergence of the Lunar Anomaly

When I was a child, I was frequently beset by certain recurring dreams. There is one such dream that I remember more than most—one in which I found myself standing on a vast shoreline gazing out at a flat, wide sea. Slowly as I watched, the horizon gradually began to lift. Before long I was able to observe that this lifting expanse was approaching me— a wall of smooth, black water that curled into an impossible lip at its peak. Rather surprisingly, I do not recall being afraid at such an ominous sight. well, to be more precise, I was afraid— I was terrified, but on of the wave itself. Instead, it was the thought of what was beyond it. This vast, unstoppable force sweeping forth to herald the end of everything, to drown the world and then eventually sink back into itself. A careless shrug of entropy enough to sever the thread of all fates. I felt that were I to somehow survive this limitless tide, then I would be left in a world that would not recognize me. I would become an element unto myself and myself alone.

An echo stuck in the throat of a dead god.

Yet here I am. it has been over two weeks since the emergence of the lunar anomaly. Our teams spent nearly two years attempting to anticipate what this event would mean for humanity— analyzing endless [UNCLEAR] of lunar topography along with every known form of spectroscopy, all amounting in one hopeless conclusion: to burrow inside the bowels of the earth and simply [wish?] that whatever emerged from within would reach us there last.

As it would turn out, this one final act of humble surrender is what won the last of the right to our own lives in these final days. Those of us alive now are not those who sought to barter with [destiny?] and defiantly cling to a civilised existence at the... [OBSCURED; line break] ...–esce at all.

[OBSCURED] –of this phenomenon, we were best served by our most base instincts, where shame found no place to... [OBSCURED; line break]

[OBSCURED] –who [sp_ _ ;UNCLEAR] their [hubris?] and hid desperately down in the mud like rats.

[OBSCURED] –made every effort to warn the others, though naturally we could not [provide?] much of a [ha _ _ s ;UNCLEAR] upon... [OBSCURED; line break] ...species was facing imminent and utter demise besides a few fissures at the southern lunar pole. With... [OBSCURED; line break] ...underground facility once we realized that the moon's orbit was rapidly decaying in a way that was... [OBSCURED; line break] ... [–sical; UNCLEAR] model – I find it hard to believe that none of them followed our lead – Perhaps some of them... [OBSCURED; line break] ...of knowing now.

[OBSCURED] [s]urface expedition was [bleak?] at best. In all honesty, I was shocked to discover that our intial... [OBSCURED; line break] [UNCLEAR] ...a breathable atmosphere. Perhaps in all this turmoil, I found it easier to commit my mind to the... [OBSCURED; line break] ...turn.

[OBSCURED] [–dare; UNCLEAR] the event—despite two years of efforts—didn't prepare us for the havoc we now face. To say that... [OBSCURED; line break] ...explain the phenomena would be a gratuitious understatement. The cataclysm that occurred two weeks... [OBSCURED; line break] ... [UNCLEAR] rule about this new world we now hid beneath – to gaze upon the moon is to die.

[OBSCURED] [deve]loped wearable countermeasures for the surface teams that would prove vital in allowing them to... [OBSCURED; line break] ...could have known that this was far from the only threat that awaited them. To say that we find... [OBSCURED; line break] ...the phenomena would be a gratuitious understatement.

[OBSCURED] is affected by the lunar anomaly, but that of all life, albeit in vastly different ways.

[OBSCURED] of emergent biology is beyond the boundaries of what we would be able to study and understand.

[OBSCURED] guilt over those we lost. More than that however, I feel more guilty about the way I reacted to... [OBSCURED; line break] ...elements that attacked our team. I felt strangely comforted, despite the deeply disturbing nature of... [OBSCURED; line break]

[OBSCURED] [UNCLEAR] at the conclusion that this feeling came from a sense of familiarity, human beings fighting... [OBSCURED; line break] ...that has plagued us all since time immemorable, but here in the wake of such deeply unfamiliar and... [OBSCURED; line break] ...hard not to feel almost comforted by such an immediately recognisable problem.

[OBSCURED] [you]rself deeply troubled by the prospect of humans remaining on the surface in that state. The... [OBSCURED; line break] ...is that their actions were not [UNCLEAR] of their own will, though there is every chance [that] this is [a]... [OBSCURED; line break] ...a preference over the [UNCLEAR] alternative.

[OBSCURED] [-ing; UNCLEAR] the precious remnants of human life is the desire to understand what has happened, though in... [OBSCURED; line break] ...do. Perhaps this is the only way we can cling to our humanity– by continuing our constant battle... [OBSCURED; line break] ...the very end.

#again hopefully this is legible enough #sleep token #sleep token lore #teeth of god #teeth of god graphic novel #elkk.lore

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obsidian-pages777 · 6 months ago

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Pick a Card: Aphrodite Messages to your love life

Pile One (Left) Pile two (Right)

Pile 1 Reading 1: The Whisper of the Rose

Aphrodite's message is carried on the petals of the rose, the symbol of love and beauty. Close your eyes and envision yourself standing in a garden filled with roses of every hue. As you breathe in their sweet fragrance, feel a gentle breeze brushing against your skin.

In this tranquil setting, Aphrodite's voice reaches out to you. She whispers of a love that is as delicate and beautiful as the petals of the rose. She assures you that love will find its way to you when the time is right. Trust in the process of life, and remain open to the possibilities that await you.

Listen closely to the whispers of your heart, for they will guide you towards the love that you seek. Just as the rose unfolds its petals in the warmth of the sun, so too will love blossom in your life when the conditions are ripe. Embrace the journey with patience and grace, knowing that Aphrodite's blessings are always with you.

In the quiet corners of fate's library, where the pages of destiny are written, I see a chapter unfolding for you, dear friend. Amidst the dusty tomes and whispered secrets, there is a partner waiting to step into your story unexpectedly. Picture a scene where the scent of aged paper mingles with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, where the quiet hum of academia fills the air. It is here, in this sanctuary of knowledge and wisdom, that you will encounter someone who shares your passion for the written word.

This partner, with a penchant for literature and a love for learning, will enter your life like a plot twist you never saw coming. They will be a stable presence, anchored by the weight of battles fought and victories won. Through the trials and tribulations of their journey, they have emerged stronger and more resilient, a testament to their unwavering spirit. As you engage in spirited discussions about your favorite books and delve into the depths of academia together, you will discover a profound connection that transcends the pages of any novel. With each shared chapter, you will come to realize that this unexpected partner is not just a character in your story, but the co-author of a love story that is just beginning to unfold.

Pics that give Pile 1 vibes:

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Pile 2 Reading 2: The Song of the Sea

As you stand by the shore, gazing out at the vast expanse of the ocean, let the rhythmic sound of the waves wash over you. Close your eyes and feel the gentle caress of the sea breeze against your skin. In this moment of stillness, Aphrodite's voice echoes in the depths of your soul.

She speaks to you through the timeless melody of the sea, reminding you that love is as boundless and eternal as the ocean itself. Just as the waves ebb and flow, so too does love come and go in its own natural rhythm. Trust in the ebb and flow of love in your life, knowing that each wave carries with it the promise of new beginnings.

Embrace the depths of your emotions, for it is through vulnerability that love finds its truest expression. Allow yourself to be swept away by the currents of passion and desire, knowing that Aphrodite's guidance will always lead you back to the shores of love.

In the tapestry of your love life, there emerges a thread woven with the fabric of fate, guiding you towards a partner whose arrival is marked by a series of serendipitous events. Picture a map spread out before you, its edges worn from countless adventures, and the faint scent of distant lands lingering in the air. It is through the call of the unknown and the allure of far-off horizons that this partner will find their way into your life, their passion for travel igniting a spark of wanderlust within your soul.

But heed the whispers of destiny, for this partner is not one bound by convention or weighed down by the burdens of responsibility. Instead, they live lightly, dancing on the winds of spontaneity and embracing the joys of living in the moment. Despite their tendency to escape the confines of routine, they bring a sense of adventure and excitement into your life that is both exhilarating and intoxicating. As fate unfolds its intricate design, you will find yourself swept up in a whirlwind romance, where every twist and turn leads to unexpected discoveries and moments of pure bliss. Embrace the unpredictability of this journey, for it is through the unplanned detours and unforeseen obstacles that the true magic of love reveals itself.

Pics that give pile 2 vibes:

#pick a card #pick a pile #tarot cards #psychic readings #love reading #relationship #love #tarot reading #pick one

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hazbinshusk · 6 months ago

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Your tags now have me thinking about Reader walking in on Husk masturbating, VERY obviously to them, maybe he's moaning their name or maybe he's huffing a piece of their clothing... gross old man~

Can he stop himself, or is he too close to climax to give up now, despite knowing his crush is staring right at him...?

I've finally finished this piece born of my obsessing over this piece by @irkimatsu, so please show it some love too. I definitely didn't do it justice, but hey, here's some husk love anyway :)

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Your phone buzzes in your hand as you reach the door to Husk’s room, and you open a text from Angel. He’s responding to a question you swore you’d sent him less than thirty seconds ago – you swear, that man has had his phone surgically grafted to his hand.

tf would I have ur pillow for?

You roll your eyes at the little laughing emoji he’s punctuated the message with. You’d left one of your pillows in the newly built hotel’s media room during Charlie’s last movie night. The event had been painfully heavy on insipid musical numbers and pastel unicorns, but thanks to the drinks you’d shared with Husk and the spider you’d managed to last through the entire event. Your number one suspect for the missing pillow had been Niffty on a cleaning spree, but when that had come up as a negative, you’d decided to widen the search.

You were still looking at your phone when you opened the door in front of you and stepped into the room. “Hey, Husk, have you seen my—”

You come to a standstill as your eyes lift from your phone, heat flooding through your entire body.

Husk is on all fours on his bed, fur mussed more than you’ve ever seen and his wings quivering so much that a few feathers fall free even as you stand there. One of his suspenders are falling from his shoulder to hang pointlessly against his arm and his eyes… his eyes are half-lidded and glazed over even as they register his surprise at your sudden appearance.

But what males you freeze in place is the way his hips are rocking forward needily into the pillow squeezed between his thighs.

Your pillow.

“Husk…”

“I’m sorry,” he chokes the words out, his voice rough and hoarse and broken. His face is flushing a deep red under his fur, his ears tucked back against his skull even as you watch his hips still snap forwards against the soft cotton. You wet your lips with the tip of your tongue and he groans, his head falling forward.

Husk’s pants are unfastened, the one suspender still in place the only thing stopping them from slipping down off of his hips to bunch around his thighs. Even still, you can see the firm, thick base of his cock each time his hips pull back before he buries it in the pillow again, and even as he apologizes again you can see his claws tighten in the sheets so hard that the threads pop. His breath leaves him a shuddering exhale, his eyes rising to watch you from under his brows, his vision glazed and almost… hungry.

The heat inside you flares in your face and in your gut, and you can’t seem to tear your eyes away from him any more than he can look away from you. Husk’s eyes are glued to your face, his lips parted as every other breath leaves him what could be moan, a desperate murmur of your name.

“Fuck,” he groans the word, the rhythm of his hips quickening helplessly. His breathing is labored, his mouth hanging open in an almost punch-drunk grimace as he whines, “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

You swallow, trying to ignore the way you’re pressing your thighs together, the way your hands squeeze at your sides against the urges you can’t even acknowledge right now because Husk is desperate and you realize suddenly what he needs.

“It’s okay, Husk.” you tell him, your voice shaking ever so slightly on his name. “You can cum for me.”

He curses again, his whole body rutting forward before he shudders, his body quaking as his orgasm finally peaks. He moans what you think is a ‘thank you’ as he does, his forehead pressing into the mattress as his shoulders shake with the sensations rolling through him.

He’s beautiful.

#irkimatsu #husk posting #husk #husk x reader #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk x reader #my fic #husk fic

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pretzel-box · 1 month ago

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Characters: Painter & Reader | ROUTE B is Painter's route!

Tags: Fluff, Heart to Heart, Romance, Confession

Words: 3,2k

Authors Note: I got impatient. But after this, updates will be strictly on thursday for both routes. Take this as a little preview for Painters Route.

Painter’s lips pressed against yours, warm and surprisingly soft. It was unexpected, sudden, and for a split second, your mind went blank. Time slowed, the sound of the rain outside the shop fading into nothing as his kiss lingered. You could still smell the faint trace of alcohol on him, mixing with his expensive cologne.

Your breath hitched as your hands instinctively gripped the edge of the counter, grounding yourself. The world felt off-kilter, spinning in a strange haze of emotions, confusion, and something else you weren’t quite ready to acknowledge.

He pulled back slowly, eyes half-lidded, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. "I—" He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. His usual calm and nerdy demeanor was gone, replaced with a vulnerable uncertainty that you hadn’t seen in him before. His gaze flickered between your eyes, searching for a reaction, something to tell him whether he had just made a mistake.

You blinked, your heart still racing from the shock of it all. What had just happened? You’d come here for answers, not this. And yet, here he was, standing before you, looking both terrified and hopeful, his lips slightly parted as if waiting for a response.

But you didn’t have one. Not yet.

Your mind was still spinning from everything—Sebastian, Allison, the stream, and now this. Your emotions were a jumbled mess, and you weren’t sure which way was up anymore. Painter had been there for you, helping in ways you hadn’t expected, but this? This felt like it had changed everything in an instant.

"Painter…" you finally whispered, your voice barely audible. His eyes flickered with something—fear, perhaps, or regret. He shifted nervously, his fingers still brushing the counter beside you, unsure of what to do next.

"I’m sorry." he said softly, his voice shaking. "I didn’t— I wasn’t thinking. I just… you looked so lost, and I—" He ran a hand through his messy hair, clearly struggling to find the right words. "I don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight. Maybe I’ve had too much to drink, or maybe I’m just tired of watching from the sidelines, but… I couldn’t stop myself." He had always been at the edge of the events, seeing you around but never managed to talk to you. He knows so much about you thanks to Sebastian and here you were, barely knowing him in return.

He looked down, guilt washing over his features as he continued, "You deserve better than this. You deserve better than some guy who can’t keep his feelings straight. I’m sorry."

You swallowed, trying to process his words, his apology, and the kiss that still tingled on your lips. It was too much, all at once.

"Why now?" you asked, your voice a little stronger this time. "Why say this now, after everything?"

Painter bit his lip, his eyes flicking up to meet yours again, filled with a mix of desperation and sorrow. "Because…" He hesitated, the words hanging in the air between you like a fragile thread. "Because I couldn’t stand seeing you hurt anymore. Seeing Sebastian hurt you… it drove me crazy. And I know I shouldn’t feel this way, I know he’s my friend, but I care about you more than I realized. And I guess… I thought maybe, just maybe…"

He trailed off, unsure how to finish. The shop felt too small, too quiet, the only sound now the soft patter of rain against the window.

You looked at him, really looked at him, and saw the pain in his eyes, the struggle. This wasn’t just some spur-of-the-moment thing. He had been holding this in for longer than either of you probably realized.

And yet, you couldn’t help but think of Sebastian. His apology, his confession, the way he had broken down in front of you. The emotions you’d felt then were still tangled up inside, unresolved, confusing. And now here was Painter, adding another layer to the mess.

"Painter." you whispered, unsure of what else to say. His name felt heavy on your tongue, like a weight you couldn’t lift.

"I know." he murmured, stepping back slightly, giving you some space. "I know this is too much, and I shouldn’t have put you in this position. I just… I needed you to know how I felt. Even if it was the wrong time."

He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed now. "I don’t expect anything from you. I just wanted to be honest. You’ve been through enough, and I didn’t want to add to it. But here I am, making everything worse."

You shook your head, taking a deep breath as you tried to find your own footing in this whirlwind of emotions. "You’re not making things worse, Painter." you said softly. "I’m just… I’m confused. About everything. About Sebastian, about you, about what happened today."

He nodded slowly, his expression softening a little. "I get that. I do. And I don’t want to pressure you. I just…" His voice trailed off again, as if he didn’t know how to finish that thought.

For a moment, the two of you stood there in silence, the weight of unspoken words thick in the air. You weren't sure where things would go from here, but you knew one thing—that kiss had started something inside you, something you couldn’t quite name. Maybe it was a crush, or maybe it was something deeper. Painter looked almost divine in his suit, his messy silver hair catching the soft light, his eyes searching yours with a vulnerability that made your heart flutter.

The way he looked at you, like you were his last lifeline, tugged at something deep within. There was no mistaking the tenderness in his gaze, and that alone made your chest tighten.

Maybe it was a stupid decision. Maybe it wasn’t. But before you could overthink it, you leaned in again, capturing his lips in a sweet, innocent kiss. It was softer this time, slower—an attempt to understand what you were feeling. His breath hitched against your lips, and then you felt him respond, melting into you like he had been waiting for this, for you, for so long.

His arms wrapped around you now, pulling you closer, but not with urgency—with care, as if he was afraid that you might slip away at any moment, like you were some fragile dream he wasn’t ready to wake up from. You could feel his grip tighten slightly, his hands shaking just a bit, and you realized that he was scared. Scared that this was too good to be true. That maybe you’d come to your senses and push him away.

But you didn’t. Instead, you leaned into the warmth of him, letting your hands rest gently on his chest, feeling the soft rise and fall of his breath. For a moment, nothing else existed but the two of you in that quiet shop. The rain outside, the mess of everything else—it all faded away.

When you finally pulled back, your lips barely inches from his, you saw the way his eyes had softened, glowing with something more than just affection—hope. His breath was ragged, his cheeks flushed, and there was a flicker of disbelief in his expression as if he couldn’t quite grasp that you had kissed him again.

"Are you sure?" he whispered, his voice barely audible, filled with hesitation but also a quiet plea. He needed to know if this was real, if you felt what he did.

You nodded, your fingers lightly brushing the fabric of his suit jacket. "Yeah." you murmured, your voice soft but steady. "I’m sure."

A relieved smile broke across his face, the kind that made his eyes crinkle just a little at the edges. He let out a breath he had been holding, and you could feel the tension in his shoulders ease as he leaned his forehead against yours.

"You don’t know how much this means to me." he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. His fingers brushed the back of your neck gently, sending a shiver down your spine. "I’ve wanted to tell you for so long… I just never thought you’d feel the same."

You smiled softly, your heart swelling at the vulnerability in his words. "I didn’t know either, honestly," you admitted, your fingers trailing up to play with the lapel of his jacket. "But now… I think I might."

His breath hitched again, but this time it was with a quiet joy, and before you could say anything else, he pulled you back into another kiss, deeper and more assured. It wasn’t rushed, but it held a kind of promise, a new beginning.

The kiss lingered, slow and warm, filled with the sweetness of a love that had been quietly blooming between the two of you. When you finally parted, he stayed close, his nose brushing yours, his lips curled into a soft smile.

“We should leave.” Painter whispered softly against your lips, and only then did you realize how late it had become. The quiet night outside seemed heavier now, and you suddenly wondered if Painter was even able to get home safely in his current state. He wasn’t completely out of it, but there was a fog in his eyes, and you could tell he wasn’t in any condition to drive.

“I’ll take you home.” you offered, gently placing a hand on his arm. He blinked at you, a small, relieved smile spreading across his face as he nodded.

"Yeah, I’d like that." he murmured.

The two of you left the shop, stepping into the night’s drizzle. The rain had slowed to a soft patter, and the city lights shimmered on the wet pavement like scattered stars. Painter stayed close to your side, his hand brushing yours as you both made your way to the subway station.

Once you were inside the quiet station, the hum of the city felt distant. It was late, and not many people were around. Painter stood close, his silver hair a little damp from the rain, his suit still pristine but slightly crumpled from your earlier closeness. He leaned against the railing, waiting for the train, his gaze never straying far from you.

When the train finally arrived, the two of you slipped inside, finding a seat toward the back. The subway car was almost empty, the soft hum of the train and the occasional rattling the only sounds accompanying the quiet night. You both sat down, the dim light flickering overhead as the train began to move.

Painter leaned against you almost immediately, his head gently resting on your shoulder, as if he had been waiting for this closeness all night. You smiled softly to yourself, feeling the warmth of him as the train rocked beneath you. His breathing was steady but slow, a sign of the exhaustion weighing on him. You shifted slightly, letting him rest more comfortably, and he instinctively draped an arm over your waist, pulling you closer.

“Thank you…” he mumbled, his voice muffled against your shoulder.

“For what?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“For being here. For… everything.” he replied, his fingers tracing light patterns against your side, as if grounding himself in your presence. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You couldn’t help but smile, a warmth blooming in your chest at his words. “You’d figure something out. But… I’m glad I can be here for you.” you said quietly, resting your cheek against the top of his head. The train continued to glide through the tunnels, and you found yourself watching the blurred lights pass by outside, the world slipping away in the background as you focused on the soft rise and fall of Painter’s breath against you.

The city outside seemed like a distant memory, forgotten in the quiet bubble of the subway. There was something intimate in the way Painter clung to you, as if he trusted you completely in that moment. The barriers between you had been lifted, and all that was left was a simple, honest closeness that neither of you wanted to break.

After a while, you felt Painter shift slightly, his face turning so that his lips brushed the side of your neck. The touch was soft, hesitant, but it sent a shiver through you, and you glanced down at him. His eyes were half-lidded, his expression gentle but still a little hazy.

“I think I’m falling for you…” he whispered, the words barely audible over the hum of the train. His hand tightened around your waist, holding you just a little closer.

Your heart skipped a beat at his confession, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. But the feeling that had been growing inside you all night, the quiet, gentle affection, was too strong to ignore.

“I think… I’m falling for you too.” you whispered back, your fingers brushing through his silver hair as you held him close. It didn't mattered from where the feelings came from or if they were only temporary, Painter made you happy at the moment.

Painter’s grip on you tightened, his head nuzzling against your shoulder as if he needed to hear those words again. And for the rest of the ride, neither of you said anything more. There was no need. The quiet, shared understanding was enough, as you sat together, letting the city pass by outside.

When the train finally reached your stop, Painter reluctantly pulled away, blinking groggily as he sat up. You helped him to his feet, your hands lingering on his arm as the two of you made your way out of the subway station, the night air cool against your skin. He leaned on you slightly, still tired but smiling softly as you guided him home.

As you walked through the empty streets, your steps echoing in the stillness, you couldn’t help but feel like something had shifted between you. Something real, something undeniable.

When you arrived at Painter’s apartment, you couldn’t help but feel a little taken aback. The place was big—far bigger than you imagined. The minimalistic design contrasted sharply with the luxury of it all. The open space, high ceilings, and large windows that overlooked the city gave it an almost ethereal feeling, like you’d stepped into some kind of modern sanctuary.

But despite its elegance, it was Painter who remained the center of your attention. He still leaned on you, his exhaustion clear as you guided him inside.

Once the door clicked shut, Painter turned to you with a lazy grin. Without warning, he pulled you toward the bedroom, his arm slipping around your waist with an ease that made your heart race.

"Come on… just… let’s rest." he murmured, his voice low and slurred with exhaustion.

You felt your cheeks heat up at the sudden closeness, but you managed to keep your composure, pulling back slightly. “Wait. You’re soaked.” you said, glancing at his damp suit. “You need to dry off first.”

He blinked, as if realizing it for the first time. “Ah… yeah, guess I’m a mess.” he chuckled softly, swaying slightly as he stood there.

“I’ll help.” you said quickly, heading to the bathroom, after searching for it quickly, to grab a towel. When you returned, he was sitting on the edge of his bed, leaning back on his hands, watching you with those tired but adoring eyes.

You knelt down beside him, gently dabbing the towel against his damp hair, careful not to mess up the silver strands too much. He closed his eyes, letting you work in silence, his breathing slow and steady now. There was something intimate in the act of caring for him like this, something that made your heart beat just a little faster.

As you moved the towel down to his neck, your eyes landed on the open collar of his shirt. His chest was exposed, skin smooth and still slightly damp from the rain. You hesitated for a moment, swallowing hard, but Painter didn’t seem to notice your nervousness.

"You’ll catch a cold if you stay like this." you murmured, more to yourself than to him.

With trembling hands, you undid the rest of his buttons, carefully peeling the wet fabric away from his chest. Your breath hitched slightly as you took in the sight of him—lean, toned, and so effortlessly handsome. His skin felt warm under your fingertips, and you could feel the heat rising to your face the longer you looked.

Painter watched you through half-lidded eyes, a lazy smile tugging at his lips. “Like what you see?” he teased, his voice soft but still carrying that playful edge.

You quickly looked away, your face burning. “I’m just trying to help.” you mumbled, focusing on drying him off as best you could.

He chuckled, the sound low and deep, sending a shiver down your spine. “I know.” he whispered, his voice suddenly serious again. “I appreciate it.”

Once you had finished drying his chest and arms, you hesitated again, unsure of how to proceed. His pants were still wet, but you weren’t exactly sure how to… help with that.

“I… uh… I think you can handle the rest.” you stammered, your eyes darting away from his bare chest, still feeling the warmth of his skin against your fingertips.

Painter smirked, clearly amused by your flustered state. “Yeah, I think I’ve got it from here.” he said softly, his hand brushing yours for a brief moment before he stood up, wobbling slightly but managing to keep his balance.

You busied yourself with straightening out the towels and giving him some space, but every now and then, you caught glimpses of him from the corner of your eye. Even in his tired, slightly tipsy state, there was something about the way he carried himself that drew you in—something magnetic. It was impossible to ignore.

„You should dry off as well.“ He called out. „Feel free to take something from my clothes.“

When he returned, he had slipped into dry clothes, he wore a shirt but it was unbuttoned and left an excellent view on his chest and the lower parts of his abdomen right above his v-line, and his hair still slightly damp but looking more refreshed. He smiled softly at you, who also managed to change in the meantime, his expression warm and filled with something that made your heart flutter.

"And thanks for taking care of me." he said quietly, stepping closer until he was just in front of you. He didn’t touch you this time, but the closeness was enough to make your pulse quicken. "You didn’t have to… but you did."

"Of course." you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I’m always here for you."

Painter’s smile widened, and before you knew it, his hand was on your cheek, gently caressing the side of your face. His touch was tender, comforting, and in that moment, everything else seemed to melt away—the rain, the exhaustion, the world outside.

He pulled you again, gently and with care till you landed on top of him on the bed. Your body was pressed against his as his hand stroked your back affectionatly, he was beyond touch starved.

„Maybe I should tell you something.“ His voice hums, inviting you to relax.

#roblox pressure #pressure #pressure x reader #painter x reader #pressure painter #roblox painter #pressure painter x reader #Streamer AU #Route B

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theresthesnitch · 6 months ago

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@wolfstarmicrofic prompt: first kiss. 1084 words

The heavy metal door nearly closes before Remus catches it with his toe. He nudges the broken two-by-four from its place against the wall to hold the door open. It catches, and Remus walks a bit away to lean against the brick wall.

It has been a grueling shift. Understaffed on a night that the local university was unknowingly hosting some event that left everyone and their dogs coming to the Three Broomsticks for dinner. His legs burn and his feet ache. He’s already dreading how he’ll feel when he finally gets a chance to sit, not to mention the fifteen minute walk home after his thirty minute bus ride.

Remus slips a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of the tight front pocket of his black pants. He was supposed to quit–he did quit, really–but sometimes, coming out the back door for a smoke break is the only chance he gets to stop moving on a shift like this, even if he has to do it next to the garbage cans.

He’s just about to light it, flame poised a breath away from the cut end of the cigarette, when there’s a shout down the alleyway that makes him stop and look up.

A boy runs down the alley–no, not a boy. He’s got to be at least Remus’s age. His long dark hair is swept up into a bun on the back of his head, and the strands that have fallen out of the bun curl around his collar. Jeans and a band tshirt from some band Remus has never heard of cut in a crop that just shows a hit of skin above his belt. He runs toward Remus, glancing back over his shoulder. When he’s only a few feet away, he turns back to Remus with a smile, and all the breath in Remus’s lungs evacuates immediately.

This is the most beautiful person that Remus has ever seen. Silver eyes that pierce Remus to his very soul, and plump pink lips slightly parted. He is flawless, ethereal. Some marble carving of a god that has come to life and now running toward Remus. Adonis

“Can you help me?” he says, stepping up to Remus and glancing over his shoulder again. Remus doesn’t have the ability to make words now and just nods in response. His smile grows. “Great. Follow my lead.”

The man grabs Remus by the shoulders and turns them around until his back is to the wall and Remus stands in front of him. He pulls Remus against him with a hand on his waist and the other coming up around Remus’s neck to thread into his hair. He pulls Remus–who is so shocked that he offers no resistance at all–into a heated kiss.

Remus is kissing a god.

Or, well, more aptly being kissed by him. He’s standing there limply as this man kisses the fuck out of him. The man moves his hand from Remus’s waist around to the small of his back, pulling Remus tightly against him

Remus jolts into action, bringing his hands up to the man’s waist. His fingers meet skin under the rough hem of his shirt. Remus opens his mouth, eagerly joining the kiss. The man hums as Remus licks into his mouth, a pleased noise that spurs Remus on. He pushes the man against the wall, slipping one thigh between his legs.

Behind him, from the entrance of the alley, Remus hears someone running, and some shouts. “Sirius! I know you went this way! Where are you?”

The man under Remus–Sirius, he realizes, if those people were looking for him–grinds down against Remus’s leg and threads both arms around Remus’s neck. He pulls Remus tighter against him, as though he’s hiding behind Remus… because he’s hiding behind Remus!

Which should bother Remus more than it does, honestly. Like why is he hiding? Why was he running? Is he in danger, or is he a criminal? Remus should ask, probably. Only, he slips his hands up Sirius’s sides, hot skin under his hands until one hand connects with a nipple ring, and Sirius moans against his lips. Remus honestly couldn’t give a damn why he’s here.

Sirius breaks the kiss, and if Remus thought he was beautiful before, that’s nothing on the flushed, kiss-swollen version of Sirius standing in front of him now. Sirius glances over Remus’s shoulder, and finding nothing looks back up at Remus. “Thanks, I think they’re gone.”

Remus takes a half step back, suddenly ripped back to the reality of the fact that this is a stranger he has pressed into the wall. “Right. Friends of yours?”

“Not exactly. My cousins.” Sirius grabs the cigarette that Remus still has in his hand and places it between his lips. “Got a light?”

Remus flicks on the lighter in his hand, holding it up behind a cupped hand to light the cigarette. “You were running from your cousins?”

Sirius inhales, lips pursed delicately around the filter. He exhales slowly, a stream of smoke rising between them. “If you knew my cousins, you’d get it.” The last of the smoke seeps out of his mouth with the words.

“I guess I’ll take your word for it.” Remus honestly doesn’t care, really. He’s too busy trying to decide if he can kiss Sirius again, or if they’re past that particular activity.

Sirius takes another drag. He drops his hand to the side, wearing a crooked smile. He closes the distance between them, cups the back of Remus’s head, and pulls him into another kiss. Sirius exhales smoke into the kiss.

It’s short this time, a brief meeting of their lips, and when they pull apart, the smoke seeps around them. “I have to go,” Sirius says, though he doesn’t move away.

“Alright,” Remus says. He doesn’t move either.

Sirius lifts his hand, cigarette held between his fingers, and presses it to Remus’s lips. Remus takes it, and Sirius cups his face in his palm as he pulls away. “I really do have to go.”

“Alright,” Remus says. He takes a drag, which is somehow disappointing on its own, and holds the cigarette between pinched fingers.

“See you later, lover boy.” Sirius brushes his lips against Remus’s once more and takes off down the alley again.

Remus watches Sirius until he reaches the corner, glancing back once more with a wink before disappearing. He brings the cigarette back to his lips and inhales deeply. Maybe he should take up smoking again.

#wolfstar #wolfstar microfics #remus lupin #sirius black #twist of a first kiss #snitchwrites

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bobbile-blog · 8 months ago

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Okay so I've finally gotten to Jessicalter's Oprec and now feel qualified to talk about Come Catastrophes or Wakes of Vultures. holy shit. This went straight into my list of top Arknights events. Fantastic event, spoilers will be under the cut so I HIGHLY RECOMMEND reading the event first. It's really good and worth your while.

Anyway, what follows is a scattered mess of thoughts about this event and things that stuck out to me.

First off, plot stuff! I'll probably cover this when I do my next plotline recap post, but what I took away from the end is that Clip Cliff seems to want to make Blacksteel independent, or at least more self-determining than it is now. He seems to be gathering resources and assets like mobile city plates and investing in long-term infrastructure like merc training, so he definitely has a long game he's pushing for. I don't think we know enough go speculate about his goals, but we'll definitely be coming back here again. After all, Tila has an infection monitor in her art, which probably means she's going to be playable at some point in the future.

Next, having looked into this a little on my own, I was interested in some of the previous places Raythean has shown up. Specifically, the ones that stood out were the drones in the Kazimierz Major and arming Silverash's forces in Kjerag, which might be referring to the Tschäggättä. It's not just notable for their apparent level of technology, but also as a faint connecting thread between three separate capitalism plotlines. I don't know if that's going to be meaningful in the future, but I found it interesting enough that I thought I'd bring it up.

Now on to more narrative things. While I love Liskarm and Franka, I do think it was the right choice to give them less screen time in this event. They're both (for the most part) fully-realized characters who understand their own motivations and morals. This is above all else an event about Jessica learning to stand on her own as an adult, so it makes sense that they're more here to support her than they are to play their own roles in the story.

Speaking of said roles, I liked the event's commentary on cops. It pointed out an interesting distinction that I wouldn't really have ever thought of, that between mercenaries and cops. To start: cops exist to protect property, not people. The police exist to protect things and do not have an obligation to err on the side of people over things, and in fact are supposed to do the opposite. This event understands that, and that role os the core of how the bank treats the Blacksteel mercs. CV, however, raises an interesting point that mercenaries are bound by the letter of a contract and not the larger obligation to property cops are, so they can actually raise moral objections and point to their contracts, sort of a Lawful Evil/Lawful Neutral to cops' Neutral Evil. The independence of their position with respect to cops allows for more of an independent morality than you'd get in a cop story and I like that, I think it's a really smart direction to take your writing in.

On a (mostly) separate note, holy shit Arknights is really good at writing cowboy stories. Between this and chapter 9 (and I would argue An Obscure Wanderer), Arknights has repeatedly made it clear that they Do Not Fuck Around with their cowboy stories and I'm surprised I haven't heard more people talking about it. It kinda has everything:

- It takes place in a rural, working-class setting undergoing a larger imminent societal shift that can inform the larger narrative, and deals with a semi-mythologized past that is rapidly disappearing.

- It has a protagonist and an antagonist that serve as foils, both very heavily affected and defined by the (same) violence in their past that they've both had different reactions to. Our protagonist has come to terms with the violence as a tool to maintain order, while our antagonist has used it for personal gain and in some ways lost control of it.

- It's a story about community, and heavily emphasizes local and personal community over larger artificial corporate "community". That's my reading of the recurring motif of the cold btw, warmth represents the close, personal community Davistown used to have and the cold that now pervades it comes from how the bank has systematically dismantled that community.

- And, I'd argue most importantly, it understands the narrative power of a bullet. The Showdown at the end of a cowboy story is powerful because we've spent the entire runtime of our story with these characters, and they are now facing each other down with the intent to end one of their collective two stories. The entire weight of the narrative so far comes to rest on a single moment of tension. It's really hard to gather up the kind of narrative momentum you need to make that hit like it does in CV. For example, it requires a really light hand with actual action in the story, so that it really does feel like it's an even standoff between our protagonist and antagonist. On the other hand, though, you do actually have to establish the relative skill of both parties and actually sell the danger of the moment to the audience. It's really hard to toe the line between tension and actual action in a way that makes for a satisfying resolution, and CV does it extremely well.

Honestly, Arknights just seems really good at getting the vibes of American media right. This is something I noticed in DV and Lonetrail too, and I haven't really been able to put my finger on what it is about them, but the vibes are just really on-point. I want to write more about this at a later point once I actually figure out what it is that I'm feeling, but maybe it's the setting, maybe it's the cast, maybe it's the plot points, maybe it's something in between — it just seems to understand the spirit of period cowboy stories in a way that I can't describe. Good shit.

Finally, I wanna end this with where Jessica is now. The events of CV take place In between the events of Loneterail and Ideal City, so the current "now" of the story is a few months ahead. Jessica left for the frontier along with Woody, Helena, and Miles. They live together in a small new settlement, building the place from the ground up with Woody and Jessica acting as town sherrifs. At the point we're at now, rhe town is fairly well-established and Woody has temporarily left on other business, leaving Jessica the sole sherrif of their new settlement. However, she's risen to her new station, and is growing into a stronger person than she ever was before.

#arknights #come catastrophes or wakes of vultures #jessica the liberated #Arknights thoughts

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novaursa · 2 months ago

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hii!

can you make a where dragons dare oneshot focused on reader and alicent? the other one had nothing of her and the story was originally about them so we need the ship back <3 it could be about the kids being around the driftmark episode ages and reader take alicent for a dragon ride and they have some cute date/picnic bc alicent is too stressed about something (could be the aftermath of the driftmark drama) and reader notices her harming herself at her fingers again and decided to do something. they go to a pretty place with flowers, a small river etc etc thank you in advance

-🌬️

Where Dragons Dare (Lost Chapter With Alicent)

Requests are closed!

- Summary: In the aftermath of events at Driftmark, you take your wife away from it and comfort her.

- Paring: male!reader/Alicent Hightower

- Note: This is another expansion of the story Where Dragons Dare. You can find all parts of the story on my first list that is pinned to the top. This part will be on the second list.

- Rating: Mild 13+

- Previous part: Lost Chapters

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @literaturedog

The wind rushes past your ears as Dallax’s massive, dark wings slice through the sky, each powerful stroke carrying you and Alicent far from the oppressive atmosphere of Driftmark. Beneath you, the landscape stretches out—a patchwork of green fields and rocky coastlines dotted with clusters of wildflowers. The sea shimmers in the distance, the sunlight glittering off its surface like shards of glass.

You guide Dallax down toward a small clearing by the edge of a river, where wildflowers grow in abundance, their vibrant colors standing out against the lush greenery. The clearing is secluded, far from the eyes and ears of the court, and the only sounds are the soft rustle of the wind in the trees and the distant roar of the sea. It’s peaceful here, a sharp contrast to the chaos that has consumed your family in recent days.

As Dallax lands with a graceful thud, his scales shimmer under the afternoon sun, the deep black glinting like polished obsidian, his glowing green eyes watching as you dismount first. You turn to help Alicent, offering her a hand as she slides from the saddle. You feel the slight tremor in her grip, the remnants of her old fear of flying, though she has grown accustomed to it over the years. Her green dress, embroidered with gold threads, billows around her as she steadies herself on the soft grass, her eyes flitting nervously to Dallax before settling on the river that flows nearby.

“A small reprieve,” you murmur, your voice low, trying to ease the tension you see in her. “A place away from all that’s happened.”

Alicent’s smile is faint, her lips barely curling, but the strain in her expression is unmistakable. Her thoughts are elsewhere, caught in the tangled web of recent events. You can see it in the way her fingers twitch at her side, picking at the skin around her nail—a nervous habit she has developed in the wake of the stress that has overtaken her life since childhood.

Your chest tightens at the sight. The weight of everything—the bitterness, the pain, the powerless feeling that gnaws at your heart since Viserys refused to punish Rhaenyra’s son—presses down on you. Aemond’s eye is gone, your son maimed, yet there has been no justice for it. The bitterness threatens to consume you, but you push it down. Not now. Not here.

You kneel beside her, gently placing your hand over her own, stilling her fingers. “Alicent,” you say softly, your voice barely more than a whisper. “You’re hurting yourself.”

She looks down at your hand, her brow furrowing as if only now realizing what she had been doing. Slowly, her fingers relax under your touch. For a moment, she doesn’t say anything, but you can see the turmoil in her eyes—the exhaustion, the fear, the grief for Aemond, for your family.

“I don’t know how to fix this,” she admits, her voice barely audible over the sound of the rushing river. “Everything is falling apart, and I…I feel so helpless.”

You shift closer to her, your hand remaining on hers, a grounding presence amidst the storm that swirls around you both. “You’re not helpless,” you reply, your voice firm yet gentle. “We are not helpless, Alicent. Aemond did nothing wrong. He claimed Vhagar as was his right. No one can take that from him, or from us.”

She exhales sharply, her gaze lifting to meet yours, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “But he’s lost an eye because of it. And Viserys…he refuses to act. He refuses to defend our children, his grandchildren.”

Your jaw tightens at the mention of your father. His inaction stings more than you care to admit, but you can’t show that to her now. Instead, you lean closer, resting your forehead against hers, your voice low and steady. “Aemond is strong. He will rise above this. We will rise above this, together. And when the time comes, justice will be done.”

She closes her eyes at your words, as though drawing strength from them, from you. The tension in her body begins to ease, her breathing slowing as the weight of your presence offers her a moment of peace, however fleeting.

After a long silence, she pulls back slightly, her hand still in yours. “I hate feeling this way,” she confesses, her voice softer now, more vulnerable. “Like everything is out of my control. Like I’m losing everything.”

You cup her face with your free hand, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “You haven’t lost me,” you say firmly, your gaze locking with hers. “We may not have control over what others do, but we have each other. And that is something they can never take from us.”

Her eyes search yours, as if looking for some reassurance, some promise that things will get better. And though you can’t promise her that the days ahead will be easier, you can promise her this—your unwavering support, your love.

“I needed to hear that,” she whispers, her voice cracking slightly. She leans into your touch, resting her cheek against your palm.

You smile softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Then you’ll hear it as many times as you need.”

For a moment, the weight of the world falls away, and it’s just the two of you in this quiet clearing, the sound of the river and the distant sea a comforting hum in the background. You sit with her on the blanket you had brought, sharing a simple meal, your fingers occasionally brushing hers as you pass her bread or fruit. It’s a small thing, this picnic, but it’s enough to remind you both of what truly matters.

You watch her as the afternoon sun casts a golden glow across her face, softening the lines of worry that have creased her brow for so long. She looks at peace, if only for a moment, and you find yourself wishing you could keep her in this moment forever—away from the court, away from the bitterness and the bloodshed.

But for now, this is enough. This moment, here with her, is enough.

#house of the dragon #hotd x reader #hotd #hotd x y/n #hotd x you #alicent hightower #hotd x male reader #alicent x you #alicent x male reader #alicent x reader #hotd alicent #alicent x y/n

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teaableu · 9 months ago

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WHAT IS YOUR EXILE AU LIKE....

I HAVE BEEN WAITING AGES FOR SOMEONE TO ASK ME THIS

Okay SO a LOT is up in the air right now because I'm doing Research as best I can between classes BUT here's what i got so far:

Lord Kogane is from a very powerful family that wants to take full control over Neo Edo. They think he's doing a poor job because the yokai are running free again and he's overall a pretty useless ruler. They step in and force him to enforce some pretty Messed Up Stuff that put all the people in danger (something to do with the Makkine tech probably). Usagi and his friends have a front row seat as to what he's up to and Usagi decides he won't let them get away with it. I haven't worked out the details but the Koganes' plans threaten the people and the yokai. BUT Usagi's not strong enough to take out the Koganes on his own.

My Usagi has a mystic power of sorts, which makes him very sensitive to spirits. All of the visions he gets through the Ki stone in the show, plus his ability to speak with Miyamoto stem from this ability. A simple way of seeing it would be like, he can see the threads of their lives. So he can read souls and connect with them, and sees ghosts when others cannot. I think the Ki stone sort of unlocked and amplified it when he connected with her. I'm still working on the details of his power but basically he can see and talk to ghosts with a little extra stuff sprinkled in

So the Ki stone encourages Usagi to seek help. Turns out the Koganes have a rich history of killing entire villages and armies that oppose them, dating (maybe) all the way back to Miyamoto's time. So he finds a couple of restless ghosts that are still waiting for vengeance and asks for their help. He strikes a deal that was supposed to help him fight Kogane while allowing the ghosts to avenge themselves their loved ones and their clans. I think he would amplify their power while they help him fight. But he doesn't realize who exactly he's making this deal with and ends up tethering his soul to very powerful VERY ANGRY ghosts that are WAY stronger than he is (I've been researching onryo and yurei for reference). They can take possession of his body, amplify his emotions to be in tune with their own, manipulate his power, and generally cause a lot of destruction. Basically, he becomes their puppet. I'm thinking it's a Venom or Little Shop of Horrors type dynamic between them. Also think of any poltergeist type film

He makes the deal and the ghosts possess him. When Usagi wakes up, he's killed Kogane (who really wasn't even the Big Bad behind the whole thing) and has to flee the city before he's caught and put to death for treason and murder. His friends are all imprisoned but he can't risk returning because he has lost control of his power and is unable to control the ghosts that are bound to his soul. The ghosts are starving for power and burning with hundreds of years of fury and anguish, and feed off of destruction (maybe the living?) It's sort of a pandora's box situation. The ghosts are just a whirlwind of chaos and use Usagi as a means to exact their wrath

I called it exile because Usagi can't return to the city without being arrested and killed for his crimes. The gang was the only one standing up to Kogane, and with his friends in prison, he's sort of stuck. He blames himself for everything that went wrong because he ran off without his friends and jumped headfirst into a situation he did not understand. He was reckless and cocky and now everyone is paying for it.

That's where EMD comes in, but the story continues after EMD season 2 as well.

Some extra notes:

- The timeline for srtuc would probably be a bit different so I can have more flexibility with the season one and season two events, since I wasn't sure when it would take place and I want there to be a pretty big time gap between Usagi leaving and returning. I also might use the Makkine invasion in the story

- I’m still working out Usagi’s backstory/past, but have pretty much decided that he has some history with the Kogane family

- I'm planning for Miyamoto to have a pretty big part in the story as well, acting as a guide for Usagi when he goes into hiding. I'm really interested in their relationship so I really want to take the chance to explore it.

- I'm thinking of adding someone as a nod to Tomoe Ame as well (descendant of her apprentice perhaps), since we got a representation of Chizu, Kitsune, and Gen in the tv show but not Tomoe (sad)

I wrote out the sparksnotes version of this here

In addition to the artwork there I have some other concept art

Blood warning under the cut

#samurai rabbit the usagi chronicles #srtuc #yuichi usagi #sr exile au #srtuc exile au #tw blood #tw death mention #this was kinda just me rambling all my thoughts

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jovial-thunder · 6 months ago

Text

Pre-alpha Lancer Tactics changelog

(cross-posting the full gif changelog here because folks seemed to like it last time I did)

We're aiming for getting the first public alpha for backers by the end of this month! Carpenter and I scoped out mechanics that can wait until after the alpha (e.g. grappling, hiding) in favor of tying up the hundred loose threads that are needed for something that approaches a playable game. So this is mostly a big ol changelog of an update from doing that.

But I also gave a talent talk at a local Portland Indie Game Squad event about engine architecture! It'll sound familiar if you've been reading these updates; I laid out the basic idea for this talk almost a year ago, back in the June 2023 update.

youtube

We've also signed contracts & had a kickoff meeting with our writers to start on the campaigns. While I've enjoyed like a year of engine-work, it'll be so so nice to start getting to tell stories. Data structures don't mean anything beyond how they affect humans & other life.

New Content

Implemented flying as a status; unit counts as +3 spaces above the current ground level and ignores terrain and elevation extra movement costs. Added hover + takeoff/land animations.

Gave deployables the ability to have 3D meshes instead of 2D sprites; we'll probably use this mostly when the deployable in question is climbable.

Related, I fixed a bug where after terrain destruction, all units recheck the ground height under them so they'll move down if the ground is shot out from under them. When the Jerichos do that, they say "oh heck, the ground is taller! I better move up to stand on it!" — not realizing that the taller ground they're seeing came from themselves.

Fixed by locking some units' rendering to the ground level; this means no stacking climbable things, which is a call I'm comfortable making. We ain't making minecraft here (I whisper to myself, gazing at the bottom of my tea mug).

Block sizes are currently 1x1x0.5 — half as tall as they are wide. Since that was a size I pulled out of nowhere for convenience, we did some art tests for different block heights and camera angles. TLDR that size works great and we're leaving it.

Added Cone AOE pattern, courtesy of an algorithm NMcCoy sent me that guarantees the correct number of tiles are picked at the correct distance from the origin.

pick your aim angle

for each distance step N of your cone, make a list ("ring") of all the cells at that distance from your origin

sort those cells by angular distance from your aim angle, and include the N closest cells in that ring in the cone's area

Here's a gif they made of it in Bitsy:

Units face where you're planning on moving/targeting them.

Got Walking Armory's Shock option working. Added subtle (too subtle, now that I look at it) electricity effect.

Other things we've added but I don't have gifs for or failed to upload. You'll have to trust me. :)

disengage action

overcharge action

Improved Armament core bonus

basic mine explosion fx

explosion fx on character dying

Increase map elevation cap to 10. It's nice but definitely is risky with increasing the voxel space, gonna have to keep an eye on performance.

Added Structured + Stress event and the associated popups. Also added meltdown status (and hidden countdown), but there's not animation for this yet so your guy just abruptly disappears and leaves huge crater.

UI Improvements

Rearranged the portrait maker. Auto-expand the color picker so you don't have to keep clicking into a submenu.

Added topdown camera mode by pressing R for handling getting mechs out of tight spaces.

The action tooltips have been bothering me for a while; they extend up and cover prime play-area real estate in the center of the screen. So I redesigned them to be shorter and have a max height by putting long descriptions in a scrollable box. This sounds simple, but the redesign, pulling in all the correct data for the tags, and wiring up the tooltips took like seven hours. Game dev is hard, yo.

Put the unit inspect popups in lockable tooltips + added a bunch of tooltips to them.

Implemented the rest of Carpenter's cool hex-y action and end turn readout. I'm a big fan of whenever we can make the game look more like a game and less like a website (though he balances out my impulse for that for the sake of legibility).

Added a JANKY talent/frame picker. I swear we have designs for a better one, but sometimes you gotta just get it working. Also seen briefly here are basic level up/down and HASE buttons.

Other no-picture things:

Negated the map-scaling effect that happens when the window resizes to prevent bad pixel scaling of mechs at different resolutions; making the window bigger now just lets you see more play area instead of making things bigger.

WIP Objectives Bullets panel to give the current sitrep info

Wired up a buncha tooltips throughout the character sheet.

Under the Hood

Serialization: can save/load games! This is the payoff for sticking with that engine architecture I've been going on about. I had to add a serialization function to everything in the center layer which took a while, but it was fairly straightforward work with few curveballs.

Finished replacement of the kit/unit/reinforcement group/sitrep pickers with a new standardized system that can pull from stock data and user-saved data.

Updated to Godot 4.2.2; the game (and editor) has been crashing on exit for a LONG time and for the life of me I couldn't track down why, but this minor update in Godot completely fixed the bug. I still have no idea what was happening, but it's so cool to be working in an engine that's this active bugfixing-wise!

Other Bugfixes

Pulled straight from the internal changelog, no edits for public parseability:

calculate cover for fliers correctly

no overwatch when outside of vertical threat

fixed skirmisher triggering for each attack in an AOE

fixed jumpjets boost-available detection

fixed mines not triggering when you step right on top of them // at a different elevation but still adjacent

weapon mods not a valid target for destruction

made camera pan less jumpy and adjust to the terrain height

better Buff name/desc localization

Fixed compcon planner letting you both boost and attack with one quick action.

Fix displayed movement points not updating

Prevent wrecks from going prone

fix berserkers not moving if they were exactly one tile away

hex mine uses deployer's save target instead of 0

restrict weapon mod selection if you don't have the SP to pay

fix deployable previews not going away

fix impaired not showing up in the unit inspector (its status code is 0 so there was a check that was like "looks like there's no status here")

fix skirmisher letting you move to a tile that should cost two movement if it's only one space away

fix hit percent calculation

fix rangefinder grid shader corner issues (this was like a full day to rewrite the shader to be better)

Teleporting costs the max(spaces traveled, elevation change) instead of always 1

So um, yeah, that's my talk, any questions? (I had a professor once tell us to never end a talk like this, so now of course it's the phrase that first comes to mind whenever I end a talk)

#lancer tactics #lancer rpg #indie game dev #made with godot #godot engine #godot 4 #Youtube

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kyupidos · 4 months ago

Text

i wanted to write something else in regards to diasomnia, and you could say twst in general—in fact you can consider this a part two to:

but today i wanted to talk about one thing in particular:

mages, ( or at least fae ), and them being a minority group

* i’m treating these as different but connected subjects btw—separated by a header. you’ll see it, trust. el oh el.

more below the cut!

thinking about my last post, i came to the realization that i didn’t exactly specify what i meant by fae being a canonical minority race—other than of course sebek’s ordeal as a canonically mixed character. so for starters, let’s dive into that.

( there will definitely be b7 spoilers, but it’s necessary!! plus it’s restricted to lilia’s dream, so don’t worry about outside of that. )

while i’m not a fan of yana, i can admit she did an AMAZING job in realistically depicting the oppression the minority races face in twst.

you can refer to this thread:

but i’ll also be explaining it myself. fae go through a lot throughout the game, and i’m surprised people don’t think about it more often.

the vargas event sheds a good amount of light onto how fae ( specifically pixies ) are treated, which is basically dog water. their home is basically getting invaded whenever the event occurs, and each time the students are essentially being tasked with kicking them out, especially in the instances where you see how the students can’t understand what the pixies are saying due to the language barrier.

you can also refer to the fairy gala event, where the students sneak into the gala to retrieve the mage stone used for the fairy queen’s tiara. and here..sam basically admits to possessing fairy dust illegally, which is explained to be a source necessary for fae survival—which basically implies there’s fairy dust trafficking occurring in the world of twisted wonderland.

( by the way if anyone’s curious, this is occurring on chapter four of the fairy gala event ).

we even see these sorts of things outside of events—crowley keeps fire pixies in the fireplaces of nrc as a heating system, a cheap power supply.

not to mention..apparently, it’s normal to be taught how to summon them for them to do menial labor FOR you.

( * i honestly don’t get how people side with humans knowing all of this…either you missed them ( weren’t able to get to certain events ) or are late to the fandom, all of which is understandable,, or you just didn’t read. also brings me to another reason why sebek hating humans is understandable, el oh el ).

now moving on to the bit that involves the book 7 spoilers, which i believed i addressed in the first part, actually—the fact that in lilia’s dream, the fae are actively being colonized as they fight in a war against the humans. reminds you of how in real life, white people were jealous of poc’s rich land and therefore wanted to take it, no? honestly i get disgusted thinking about why people would ever have a reason to like or side with henrik. fae are effectively the minority among the minority ( like bipoc, considering they’re basically what the “i” stands for, indigenous people who had their land being stolen by the white colonizers. honestly, it’s very obvious people who side with humans in twst don’t know anything about our real world history at all ).

also, like how the thread i mentioned before talks about, there’s other things with reflect how the minorities of twst are treated: in the first halloween event with the magicam monsters, malleus’s horns are tugged on and compared to bike handles ( and i know it’s not meant to be intepreted that way but i worry about how fans do, considering how fae age works and he’s a minor, but that’s a post for another day. if you guys want to hear it, i wouldn’t mind ). the reason this being something to note is because horns are live bone, based on dragon anatomy. they have feeling in them—so when there‘s a significant amount of weight on them, it hurts.

also, nocturnal species having virtually no assistance from the school ( after all night classes are never mentioned ), octopus merfolk, hyena beastman, etc., are considered lesser. like i said, the thread is good to look at if you want more, but anyway.

( i have realized that this post is getting a big lengthy, so i’m using a header ( banner? ) to cut it up a little..patooey! not to be mean, but this is sometimes me when people purposefully are ignorant to these things. )

anyway, we now move on, finally—to mages in general and why i consider them a minority group as well, even if they’re definitely not on the scale of the fae race.

i understand where people may think that things like this aren’t just numbers. but there’s a reason why it’s referred to as “minority” and “majority”. i,, kind of thought it was obvious if you took any math class ever, but whatever. i mean even if you’re white, if you were in say, japan, you’re the minority compared to the majority which are asians/japanese in specification. i will NEVER act like white people should be considered a minority group in GENERAL considering world history ( reverse racism isn’t a thing, i reccommend looking at this. it’s a myth really ), but it is literally statistics. plus, even white people can be discriminated against, and i can admit this as a person who is bipoc ( but let’s be real you cannot be racist towards white people ).

anyway, back to twst. no matter how you look at it, mages are a minority group given the literal statistics given to you in game. only 10% of the human population hold enough magic to even lift a cup, basic level. we don’t know the percent for other races, but this is still a very telling statistic in the rarity of mages, thus making them what i call them—a minority group.

now i’ll say this; fae are born with magic, and fae have magic ingrained into their society ( plus they don’t even have experience with modern technology ), it’s a part of their day to day life, though as i mentioned before, seeing as they’re the minority among minorities especially considering the human-fae war mentioned before, that just affirms that fact that mages are to be considered rare. ( plus it’s mentioned again in b7 humans greatly outnumber the fae, and even in the world map you can see briar valley is small ).

something i’ve noted and will say right now—the fact there are mages that belong to high society doesn’t automatically mean they’re not a minority/not oppressed. like, consider actual human history. can nobility/royalty, major world leaders not be a part of an oppressed society? african leaders, mexican leaders, etc, all who are people in power, world leaders who were oppressed by colonizers and killed. being someone in power doesn’t mean you’re not oppressed. not to MENTION present day celebrities and people in power ( i mean look at meghan markle ).

it’s true, while i say “there are mages”, you can look at twst to see that a majority of them are actually well off. but personally, i see this as a fact when we look at mages, we’re focused on night raven—which is quite literally a PRESTIGIOUS and PRIVATE academy meant for mages who are the cream of the crop. of course we’re going to be presented with many mages who possess power at least even if just influentially. also, of course we’re going to be shown how mages are perceived in society comfortably. we’re in a place where mages are the majority attending night raven as the prefect, though this is about in general to the world, so there’s that.

also, the idea that non mages are the ones being marginalized against, i kind of doubt it. i think there’s a clear reason why, at the very least, it would be happening inside night raven. remember how i said white people can be discriminated against, just never be racist against? i think that’s what’s happening here, given the way riddle acts with the prefect and the fact they had a magicless upbringing in book 1. while mages are the minority in general, in night raven they’re the majority. so among the mages we see, of course it’s easy to interpret it as non mages being the ones suffering the most in twst’s society. but i don’t see it that way, especially since unreliable narration exists, like with fae vs humans.

( yk how like, restaurants based around a specific ethnicity will give people not of that ethnicity a different menu with higher prices? when mages discuss magic levels, i feel like this is the equivalent el oh el )

( and anyway, that argument clearly falls apart when you look at ruggie.. i can see him fading away right now.. a large part of his character is that he and his village are in poverty if that. wasn’t obvious. if he can belong to a prestigious academy like night raven but still be in that kind of financial state, there are obviously mages who go through the same, he was just the lucky few to manage to make it into nrc. )

also, before society became accustomed to mages. again looking to the human-fae war, there was a large period of fear where rather than mages, they were referred to as “witches and wizards”. i don’t have much to emphasize there, but there having been a period of fear like that is rather telling.

while i understand mages have a special place in the workforce ( i mean fourth year students at night raven go off-campus for hands-on learning and to go job hunting ). but also..i think that’s pretty obvious given how magic is a very important resource even still among twisted wonderland’s society. after all, henrik was mining briar valley’s resources without permission, and since one of fae’s must valued resources involved the fairy dust mentioned earlier ( aka magic based ), even though mages were still feared at the time, it’s clear that magic itself is and back then was still valued even so ( i mean obviously, who wouldn’t want magic..which brings me back to the fact of colonizers wanting poc’s rich lands and such ). it’s just now in present day twst society, mages are considered “equal”. ( riddle mentions that their current society has “growing” diversity, so i can only guess things still need change ).

which is ALSO why i don’t think rollo was right about magic…uhm..because you know, fae rely on magic to live. their day to day lives. if exterminating magic means basically also exterminating a race…i don’t know you guys i don’t think that’s right!! sweats!!

but, anyway..that’s the wrap up of this rant. if you want to ask questions, brings things up to me or anything, i don’t mind comments!! just like..be respectful yk, heh.

#inside kay’s mind #kyupidos #twst #twisted wonderland #disney #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #book 7 #twst book 7 #diasomnia #twst diasomnia #twisted wonderland analysis #twst analysis

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kindasleepywriter · 6 months ago

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Loving Comfort - Nesta x Reader

Link to my masterlist

Summary: A fae's cycle is a rare event, but it comes with a long list of discomforts. Luckily for you, your mate is by your side to make things better. (Word count: 1k)

Warnings: Menstrual pain, implied blood, smut.

Note: Inspired by this request! Thank you so much for the ask, sorry it took so long!

Everything hurt. Pain radiated through your abdomen, starting just below your ribs, reaching down and through your body with occasional lashes in your lower back. Cramps and aches like nothing you’d ever felt.

Never felt since your last cycle, you corrected yourself.

Every time, it caught you by surprise. You would think that, after decades experiencing it, you would be better at managing it, but that was certainly not the case. Fae cycles were irregular and much less frequent than humans’ and other species, but nature balanced it out by making them worse. Much, much worse.

You felt like an idiot for not having seen it coming. For weeks you had felt more tired than usual, and in the last few days you had started to feel a dull ache right below your stomach and occasional headaches. You had simply brushed it aside as stress.

All of the signs added up in your head in a single second when, in the middle of training with the Valkyries, you felt the unfortunate moisture underneath your leathers and pants. You had let out a swear and finished the fight quickly, excusing yourself rapidly, mourning the plans you had for the next few days. Once the bleeding started, the excruciating pain wasn’t far behind.

All of it had resulted in your current position, curled in bed like a cat, clinging on to a pillow like your life depended on it, silently cursing the Mother for this supposed blessing. You had skipped training for the second day in a row and, despite the pain, you were also bored out of your mind.

A quick knock at your door shook you from your queasy state.

“There’s no one here” you groaned; the barely audible words nonetheless making your head throb even worse.

The door opened slowly, Nesta’s familiar figure striding into the room unbothered by your comment. She tried to give you a reassuring smile but winced nonetheless when you let out another long whine.

“I would suggest that you train with me to lessen the pain,” she said, “but I rather like the world of the living, so I will abstain.”

“Wise decision.” You groaned. “Anyone who tries to remove me from this room will lose a limb.”

As if in support of your words, another blanket appeared around you. The house understood your pain, at least. The cup of herbal tea on your bedside had kept its perfect temperature all day, and new books appeared at your bedside at regular intervals.

Nesta sighed fondly at your empty threat as she stripped of her leathers. “Hm, no exceptions?” she taunted.

“None.”

“Even when it would help lessen your suffering?”

You looked up from your nest of blankets with narrowed eyes. You wouldn’t put it past Nesta to find some ruse to force you out of bed. “I’m listening.” you mumbled, as she leaned in the doorway leading to the washroom, arms crossed. She had completely stripped down, and you couldn’t help but lowly whistle. Your mate looked stunning despite her workout, her face slightly flushed and her untied hair falling over her shoulders in waves, leading your eyes down to her slim body.

She rolled her eyes at you, but you felt the golden thread between you tugging with love. “Your mate is standing completely bare in front of a running bath,” she said, “I believe you might be able to come to a conclusion yourself.”

Oh. You flushed as you realized, and Nesta smirked, probably sensing the warmth that rushed through you. The idea of standing up though…

“But walking hurts…” you whined again. Truly, you were almost embarrassed at your behavior, but the pain really was that bad.

She pushed off the doorframe and stepped towards you quickly. Before you even realized what was happening, she had scooped you out of the bed and stripped you of your shirt and shorts. You yelped as the fresh air hit your ass as she carried you towards the washroom, kicking the door closed behind the two of you.

She lowered you in a gentler manner, setting you on the edge of the bath. You sighed when she pulled away, your body instinctively searching for more of her comforting warmth, but she returned quickly with a damp cloth. She softly wiped it over your lower body, discarded it and then focused on you again.

You tested the water with a finger and, as always, felt it was the perfect temperature. You stood to step into it, but Nesta swiftly held you up again, pulling your back against her chest and lowering you both into the water without you moving a muscle.

The water enveloped your body and you fully relaxed against your mate, a relieved groan escaping you. “Thank you, my love.” you murmured, raising a hand to run it through her locks. She chuckled, her breath tickling your ears.

“Don’t fall asleep on me now,” she said, “this isn’t all I have planned.”

You nodded absentmindedly, distracted by the relief and the pleasant feeling of her fingers dancing on your skin. Her fingers went lower and lower, innocently caressing your outer thigh, but changed direction to stroke at the apex of your thighs. You startled at the touch and tried to turn around to reciprocate, but Nesta held you firm against her.

“Just enjoy it,” she whispered, “don’t worry about me tonight.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the only thing that came out was a moan as she expertly stroked you. You bucked slightly against her hand, searching for more friction, but her free hand kept you from moving too much. She knew what you liked most, and it didn’t take long for you to reach your peak.

You gasped when her lithe fingers entered you and pressed up at just the right spot. You writhed, begging for your release. She only kept you at the edge for a few moments, softly kissing your neck.

“Come for me.” she finally instructed, nipping at your ear.

Your entire body shook as you moaned loudly, calling Nesta’s name like a prayer. She laughed softly as you settled back, satisfied and completely exhausted.

Maybe your cycle wasn’t all bad after all.

I really am back! This req threw me for a loop because I haven't experienced a period in almost a decade lol but I really enjoyed writing it, it's my first time writing any WLW in general, a first of many i hope.

Banner created by the amazing @saradika!

#nesta x reader #nesta archeron #acotar #acotar x reader #acotar fanfic #nesta fanfic #cryptid writes #nesta archeron x reader

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southtopaz · 1 month ago

Text

PSYCHO KILLER - SCREAM

Summary: in which Iris Morris has to navigate her personal relationships while surviving a psycho.

Warnings: Fem!reader, angst, violence, swearing, mention of knife, stabbing, mention of death, Amber freeman x Fem reader, Tara Carpenter x Fem reader, multiple parts.

Word count: +3,5k

A/n: the story will follow the events of Scream 5 and 6. English is not my first language, so I apologize for any grammatical mistake. Also I use Alycia Debnam Carey as Iris face claim but you all can use whoever you might like.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Iris stepped softly into the hospital room. Tara was engrossed in her phone, headphones on, seemingly unaware of her presence.

The room was quiet except for the soft beeping of monitoring equipment that kept track of her vital signs. A small, wheeled bedside table sat within arm's reach, holding a bottle of water and a stack of magazines. As Iris slowly moved into Tara's line of sight, Tara jumped, clutching her chest in surprise.

"Jesus christ, you scared me".

"Sorry, I didn't mean to spook you". Iris stared down at her feet not really knowing what to say.

"What are you doing here?" Tara made herself comfortable in her bed.

"Sam asked me to keep you company".

"Well I'm not going anywhere as you can see". The carpenter girl jokingly gestured at her broken leg.

"She's worried about you, we all are". Iris looked up to Tara, already finding the girl staring at her.

"Even you?" She whispered.

"Of course, I can't wait for all this to be over so you can be safe". She then quickly added. "So we can all be safe".

"So... what are you watching?". The girls continued to make small talk trying to ignore the last conversation they had but it wasn't too long before Tara just couldn't take it anymore.

"Iris" Tara carefully called out to her. The other girl nodded at her to continue. "About the other day..."

"Tara, I think it's better if we just let it be". Iris turned her head away unable to mantain eye contact. "Maybe it's time to forget and start over, it had been a long time and I'm tired of fighting". Iris was being honest, what happened with Tara hurt her but with everything that was going on it just seemed so minuscule. They could die at any moment and here she was, being petty at something that happened when they were 15.

"What letter?" It's like Tara didn't even hear what the other girl said, she just needed to ask the one thing that had plagued her mind for the past two days.

"What?"

"You said you wish you never gave me a letter". Tara threaded carefully into her next words. "Iris you never gave me a letter".

What

What the fuck

"Tara please, I'm trying to forget and be nice, don't make it hard".

The carpenter girl incorporated herself as best as she could while mantaining eye contact. "Iris you need to believe me, I have no idea about that letter and I know for a fact that I never sent you that text you talked about". Iris went to stand up but Tara was faster and gripped her hand forbiding her from leaving.

Tara was basically desperate at this point, she needed Iris to believe her. "Please, I would never lie to you".

Iris felt her mind shatter into million pieces as she realized that everything she had believed for the past two years might had all been wrong.

"You... you never read it?".

"No, look I don't know when you think you gave me that letter but I never received it so It couldn't have been me the one that wrote you that text. I would never do something to hurt you Iris". The girl felt her eyes watered at the despair in Tara's voice. She never knew why Iris hated her out of nowhere but now that she knew it was because of something she had no idea of, she needed the girl to understand that.

"Fuck". Iris didn't want to believe her at first but Tara's eyes reflected nothing but sincerity and she just knew that she was telling her the truth. She felt like the most stupid person in the world. "How is it possible?"

"When was this? I need you to tell me everything".

"It was in september two years ago, I wrote you a letter and I left it in your locker in where I knew you would find it".

"You left it in my fucking locker?". Tara was looking at her incredulously.

"Yeah? I'm sorry I didn't have the guts to give it to you in person".

"Why not? What did it say?"

A deep blush raced up Iris's cheeks as she looked at everywhere but Tara. The girl noticing this called out her name.

"It was me writing about..." she stuttered, her voice seemed to fail her at the moment. "About my crush on you". Iris felt Tara take a sharp intake of breath as her mouth hung open.

"I didn't know how to tell you in person, so I wrote it in hopes you would understand, but you never saw it".

"You had a crush on me?" Of all the things Tara expected, that was nowhere on the list. Her heart thundered in her chest, her cheeks flushed a deep pink, and she struggled to find her words.

"Umm yes but don't worry it was like a thousand years ago so it's totally in the past". She hurriedly tried to assure the girl. "I'm sorry".

"What else did it say?". Tara asked once her voice seemed to find the words again.

"That I would give you some time to think of your answer whatever it might have been and to meet me in our place at 7pm".

"At the tree house on 97 street".

"Exactly". Iris nodded at her words, remembering the place she hadn't put a foot in two years. "I waited for three hours and you never showed up and then I received that text".

"I wasn't mad because of the rejection, I would've dealt with it. I was mad because you didn't even show up and then sent me a text telling me how disgusted you were by me and then the next day you acted like nothing happened". Iris felt a heavy knot of remorse settle in the pit of her stomach. "And now It turns out it wasn't even you, you had no idea".

Tara squeezed her hand tightly and Iris squeezed back. "I'm sorry Tara, I hated you for something you had no idea, I should've known".

"I don't blame you, you let yourself be vulnerable, something that I know it's not easy for you". Tara reassured her with a little smile as she caressed the palm of her hand with her thumb. "And you thought I turned my back on you in the worst way possible, I would've reacted in the same way if it was me".

"You know, you don't have to be so considerate, you can tell me to fuck myself, you would be right".

"Probably, but honestly? I don't give a shit, I just want us to be okay". Tara leaned forward helping Iris dry her tears. "It might take us a while to move on and forgive but there's nothing I would like more".

Iris hugged her and both of them felt like some weight left their shoulders. They missed each other despite everything and now they could finally heal. After some time in silence just enjoying each other's presence, Tara asked another question that came into her mind.

"Did you put the letter in my locker around mid September?" Iris looked at her with a confused face. " Strange question I know, but I remember there was a day where I lost my phone for a whole day. I thought I lost it and then I found it on my locker the next morning".

"I thought I looked past it but what if I didn't, and someone took it, wrote you that text and then left it back there without any trace?".

Iris paused in thinking, it seemed far fetched to think someone would do something like that but the thing is, she did write that letter on September 16th. She remembered because it was three days before a short trip she took with her mom. "I did wrote it in mid September, but how could some random person know about it?".

"It doesn't have to be a random".

"What you mean?".

"Did someone know about your feelings?". Tara had a hard time saying those words without blushing like crazy but Iris didn't notice while being deep in thought.

"Well I only told Mindy and then one time talking about it with her, Amber overheard us and then I had to tell her too". She had a thoughtful face. "Then it was Mindy the one that came with the idea of writing you a letter and Amber and me thought it was a good idea".

"So Amber knew"

"Yeah? What about it?"

"Iris, only one person knew my locker combination apart from you and you guys started dating an year after we stopped talking". Tara's heart sank as she thought that maybe the reason her and Iris drifted apart was her own best friend.

No. Absolutely no way. Iris refused to think her girlfriend had anything to do with the letter incident. This was Amber, the girl she was in love with, the girl who had been there for her and made sure she always felt loved. She would never do something like this. "No Tara, you're wrong, I don't like what you're implying".

"I'm sorry, but can you tell me it sounds that insane to you?".

"Yes it does, this is Amber we are talking about, my girlfriend and your best friend".

"And you think I enjoy feeling this way? I wish I were wrong," Tara said, her jaw tightening with every word. "Look, all I know is that if I had received that letter, everything would be different now."

"Why?" Iris whispered, her voice barely audible but resonating with both of them.

"Because I would've been on that fucking tree house the moment I finished reading it". The implications of her words weren't lost in any of them but Iris didn't want to dwell on it, so she excused herself for a moment and left the room to clear her mind.

She came back a few minutes later and both of them silently agreed to stop the conversation. Tara knew that maybe it was too much for Iris and even though she knew something wasn't right she decided to let it go. She had just gotten her best friend back, she wasn't going to ruin it.

The two of them started watching TV, laughing at whatever comment they would throw till the eerie creak of the floorboard shattered the otherwise peaceful atmosphere of the room. Both girls looked at each other in alarm and Iris stood up getting closer to the door.

"Hello?" She peeked her head to watch the hallway and she saw no one. The deputy that was supposed to watch over Tara was gone. The place seemed oddly silent, making both girls tense.

"No one is here". Iris muttered. "I don't like this".

Suddenly the lights go off and Tara gives a little whimper. "Fuck this, we need to get out of here". Iris ran around the other side of the bed and helped Tara take out the cables attached to her body. Tara took Iris's hand, and the brunette lifted her into the wheelchair close to her as she felt jolts of pain shooting through her leg and hand. She could see Tara's tears making way through her face so she squeezed her shoulder tightly as a way of reassurance and started moving the wheelchair.

Once they got through the door and into the hallway, Iris's phone went off scaring both girls to death. She had forgotten it in Tara's room.

"Let's keep moving" Tara whispered to her and Iris obediently keep walking without making a sound.

Tara let out a whimper as she felt pain in her ankle but all Iris could do was grab her hand in comfort and keep on strolling so they could get out of there fast. Suddenly Tara cried out in alarm, her hands snapping to her mouth. Iris peered around the corner, and her eyes widened in astonishment. There was a police officer laying in the floor with blood pooling around his body. Iris got closer to his body in search of his gun and it was gone.

"Fuck, the gun. It's gone". Just as she was about to say something else, they heard a loud crash coming from somewhere else. Iris froze for a moment, unable to think before a cry from Tara woke her up from her stupor.

"We're going to die". The carpenter girl silently cried.

"Tara, look at me". Iris cut in before the girl started to spiral into desperation. She crouched down to her level and grabbed both of her cheeks between her hands. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you okay? Someone dares to touch you and I'll fucking kill them". Tara's lips tremble in fear but she nodded at her friend's words.

"Let's hide in that room". She quickly grabbed the wheelchair and turned it around, hurrying towards there as fast as she could.

Now inside the room, she tried to find some kind of weapon they could use and she saw a telephone. The line wasn't working but they could use it to punch someone. She signaled Tara to grab it. Iris eased the door shut just enough to still be able to peer into the hallway. As they heard footsteps getting closer to them, Iris positioned herself beside Tara and they both got ready to attack.

A figure appeared at the door and Tara quickly punched them with the telephone as Iris threw herself at them to push them into the wall, putting them far away from Tara.

"Goddamn it!" Richie screamed while touching the back of his head.

"Richie?" Tara asked as Iris separated herself from the man. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Sam called. She said that you were in trouble" Richie explained himself, preventing Iris from getting closer to him. "Did you just push me into the wall?" Before Iris could ask him more questions, they saw a Ghostface mask appeared behind him and both girls shouted in horror.

"BEHIND YOU" Iris shouted putting herself in front of Tara as Richie turned around fast enough to prevent Ghostface from stabbing him right in the neck, instead he sliced him in the arm.

The masked attacker kept on trying to hurt him while Richie prevent him from doing so by blocking his wrist until he was slammed into the door dropping unconscious.

He gradually shifted his gaze from Richie to Iris and Tara, who were paralyzed with terror. Ghostface seemed to take another long second to observe Iris tilting their head to the side. He took a step towards them and Iris prepared herself as she grabbed a heart monitor and threw it at him, managing to put him to the ground for a little bit. She quickly grabbed Tara's wheelchair and got her out of the room.

"Tara you need to keep moving, I'll distract him" Iris didn't wait for an answer as she push the wheelchair as hard as she could, making it move on its own. She tried to ignore Tara's calls to her as she turned around and came face to face with the attacker. For a moment everything seemed to still until Ghostface made a swing at her. She managed to dodge it and punched the attacker in the stomach. She heard a slight grunt coming from behind the mask before he lunged forward at her knocking the air out of her lungs as both of them fell to the floor. Ghostface made no attempt to stab her but he grabbed her head and slammed it against the floor enough times to make her dizzy. He then let go of her and started walking towards Tara who was still trying to push her way forward.

A faint ringing of a cell phone echoed in the hallway as Iris tried to stand up while her head felt like it was about to explode. She had a hard time trying to stable her vision but she could still hear Tara's cries.

"Hello, Samantha," his voice echoed through the floor. Iris tried to stable herself while pushing her body against the wall.

"Richie can't come to the phone right now," he said darkly, resuming his slow walk down the corridor while playing with his knife. "He's discovering what happens to those who stick their noses in things that doesn't concern them."

"I'll tell you what". Ghostface proposed an idea. "You can choose. I'll only kill one." After moments of silence, she could only assume Sam was talking, Ghostface spoke again.

"Who do you want to hear die?

"Really?" he asked. Iris managed to stand up as she started to silently make her way towards Ghostface "You can't save your own sister? All you have to do is say kill Richie".

Suddenly he pushed Tara out of her wheelchair and the girl screamed in agony as she fell into the floor. Just as Tara started to crawl away from him and Ghostface tried to attack her, Iris threw a fist into the side of their head making them stumble in shock. As they turned around, Iris jumped them and quickly threw another punch into the mask that made her whole arm burn in pain. While he was distracted by the punch, Iris lunged forward at them and straddle their hips as she kept throwing punches at them, the attacher trying his best to dodge them, but she could hear the slight grunt of pain coming from him.

"Don't fucking touch her" as she said those words referring to Tara, a new wave of rage overcame Ghostface as he gripped tightly into his forgotten knife and stabbed her in the thigh, making her yelled out in pain.

"Iris no please leave her alone". It seemed like Tara's words only infuriated him more, as he took out the knife and pushed her off her. He stood up and once he saw Iris on her knees clutching at her bloody thigh, he kicked her in the head, making her fall into the floor for a second time but now unable to move as she felt the blood oozing from her nose.

Ghostface grabbed the telephone again and spoke.

"Or say, 'Kill Tara" he pretended as if nothing happened. "And I'll make sure to hit all the organs I missed last time."

Iris couldn't hear nor see anything, all she could feel was pain and despair at feeling completely useless and unable to save the people she cared about. "I can also just kill Iris, she fought so hard, it would be such a shame, isn't it Samantha?".

"Fuck you!" Tara yelled out from the floor, groaning as she pulled herself along the floor.

"Last chance to save one" Ghostface remarked for the last time, hovering over Tara with his knife up high. "Choose."

"Why are you doing this?" Sam sobbed over the phone.

"You want to know why, Sam?" Ghostface growled "Maybe it's because you're a selfish bitch, who can't even make a decision to save the life of someone you love. Maybe you're too weak for this franchise."

The elevator doors slid open with a faint chime, showing Sam and Dewey inside and suddenly Dewey started shooting at Ghostface, making him quickly take cover in another room.

"Iris!" She heard Dewey called out to her as he helped her stand up. "Are you okay?" He took notice of all the blood in her face.

"I feel like shit, Richie is passed out in that room". She weakily pointed the place she was hiding at first with Tara. "I can't move Dewey, just leave me here and make sure everyone gets into safety".

"Shut up Iris, I couldn't save your sister but I can save you". He wrapped his hand around her waist and quickly helped her walk until they got into the elevator, once he made sure she could stand for herself, he went to look for Richie. Iris felt her head spinning as she focused on watching Sam helping Tara. She felt a smile crept into her face as she saw the girls getting closer to safety.

Dewey managed to pick Richie up from the floor and they were both making their way to the elevator where the other three girls were waiting.

"Shit Iris you're bleeding". Tara pressed a hand in her cheek inspecting her closely.

"It's okay don't worry". Iris put her hand on top of her and smiled softly through her pain.

Just as Dewey and Richie were getting closer to them, Ghostface jumped at them and tried to slice Dewey in the face while Richie tumbled backwards. Dewey managed to dodge Ghostface's attacks as he pulled out his gun and fired at him but he got out of the way before any bullet could reach him.

Ghostface push Dewey to the floor, the gun slipping from his hands. Now on top him, Ghostface pushed the knife down to his chest, while Dewey forced him away by hitting his head against theirs.

"Not today". Dewey grunted with pain as he grab his pistol from beside him and pulled the trigger three times, hitting the attacker right in the chest as he fell backwards into a shelve, covering him with glass.

Dewey quickly stood up and shoved Richie forward as they entered the elevator and presses the button to the first floor. Iris let out a sigh of relief when she saw everyone safe and what seemed to be the death of Ghostface.

"The head". Dewey stopped the doors from closing. "You have to shoot them in the head or they always come back". He explained as he was already making his way back to the scene.

"Dewey no don't you dare come back". Iris pleaded with the man as she tried to hold into his arm to stop him.

"Dewey who gives a fuck?" Sam hissed wildly as she held into Tara.

"I do" he smiled softly at them and stepped out of the way. Iris tried to follow after him but Richie wrapped his arms around her preventing her from moving as the doors closed, letting Dewey alone with Ghostface.

"NO FUCK NO"

#scream #scream 5 #scream 6 #scream x reader #amber freeman #amber freeman imagine #amber freeman x reader #jenna ortega #mikey madison #tara carpenter #tara carpenter imagine #tara carpenter x reader #sam carpenter #richie kirsch #dewey riley

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