#i NEED her wormy ****
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finally. a properly updated wormie reference
#ahit oc#glow worm#wormie#my artwork#i redesigned her dwellers mask too because i didn't like the old one much anymore#anyway i needed this but others may ref it too if they wish to draw her
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god the new ksbd. gogheads stay winning
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ended up having movie night with j and the crushes™️ and it was such a good night. like seriously have not had a night this good in a looooong time and i just want to kiss all their stupid faces and hold all their stupid hands (seriously annoyed i only have two hands)
i havent been like this in a long while and i seriously cannot stop grinning most of the time. i rly just want to scream about it to everyone i know, but the timing!!!! and it's also just so new that i want to be selfish about it as well. i don't want to deal with what ppl might think bc i don't careeeeeee im so happy and i don't want them to try and ruin that.
also let's see if this is the start of another week with no writing bc my thoughts are otherwise occupied!!!
#ramblings#the crushes#wormy babe#<- bc she creeped on my tumblr and requested her own tag#so if you see this babe there you go#and no im not explaining why she is my wormy babe either#need to come up with tags for j and him as well#i will at some point
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also on my last post about Moose I originally posted that because I have multiple scenarios in my head with Crayon and Moon being unable to work together because they don’t actually know what they’re doing and Miss Wormy-Moose “I have never done anything bad or serious in my life” Soup just goes and does something herself and interrupts them once she’s done.
#They spend a lot of time traveling places by foot and so obviously they need something to keep warm#But Crayon and Moon barely know how to start a fire#Meanwhile Moose is twelve steps ahead of them. Has a fire going and looking for something edible.#She’s the only one with her shit together (most of the time at least)#Love her for that#Also there’s a canon reason I keep the name Wormy/Worm soup if anyone wants to hear#Like her name IS moose…technically.#But the other thing has a canon reason to be her nickname#S.K brain dumps
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Post-series Uzi!!! U KNOW I had to give her a cool Wormy Eldritch form and slight fit change to her usual appearance.
Uzi is still a massively edgy dork but now she's kinda unstoppable with the AS under her control. She needs a ridiculously unattainable goal to focus on so might as well work on engineering more sick-ass weapons (JUST IN CASE, SHES PARANOID AF) and contraptions to help make the surface world hospitable to Dronekind again now that DDs aren't munching on 'em for midnight snackies. They all still need to drink oil, but who knew saving the planet would make ppl want to donate a quart or two?
Outpost-3 ain't the only colony and it might take a while to both find and convince all the others that it's safe on the surface again.
Also thinking about all those DD cores Alice had kept in jars in that oven- maybe she'd see what she could do to get them in bodies too after successfully exporting Cyn?
#murder drones#fanart#murder drones fanart#uzi#uzi doorman#uzi md#md uzi#post series designs#md headcanons#art tag#Regardless#''I HAVE THE POWER OF GOD AND ANIME ON MY SIDE'' unironically#murder drones post series
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lily evans being a nickname person is so special to me. not only do we canonically have “tuney”, “sev”, and “wormy”, but she literally married into a friend group with secret code names.
and there’s literally no limit to her nicknaming ability. I mean, we’re already pushing it with “wormy”—a nickname for a nickname. so why stop there. “jamie”, “pads”, and “moons” when she’s feeling affectionate. “monty” and “effie” for her in-laws. “jimmy” when she just wants to fuck with james. “harold” when it’s three in the morning and she’s sleep-deprived and harry won’t go back to sleep. need I go on.
#nicknames are her love language#lily evans#lily potter#lily evans potter#james potter#prongs#sirius black#padfoot#remus lupin#moony#peter pettigrew#wormtail#severus snape#petunia dursley#jily#james and lily#marauders era#marauders
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NOT JUST ANYONE’S | A. ANDERSON
warnings and disclaimers, (enemies to lovers), porn w plot (yay), a word count of 15k+?!, wlw content, mean!abby, jealous/delusional!abby, mentions of reader’s hair, abby being a book wormy, abby describes the reader as a goddess (once), fluff, angst, different povs, bullying, light workplace mistreatment, SEXUAL CONTENT, mean/softdom!abby, sub!reader, semi-public sex (hospital’s office), panties stealing, spanking, cunnilingus, fingering, hair pulling, masturbation, usage of a vibrator (once), scissoring, squirting, nipple play, degradation, body workship/praising, overstimulation, usage of pet names (baby, babe, pretty girl, good girl, dirty girl), cum eating, mutiple orgasms, DARK CONTENT, stalking, act of stealing narcotics, cursing, jealousy, alcohol/drug consumption, mentions of inflicting harm on others, acts of frame-up.
TAPE THAT MOUTH SHUT, this is probably one of the biggest/questionable pieces of art i’ve done. though it’s FINALLY fucking done idk how to feel honestly. i just feel like i have such an emotional bind to each and every piece of work i have done. this is my baby, the full nine months and everything, and now the world will see her for her. i feel like a mother watching her baby go off to kindergarten. :”(
ONESHOT PREVIEW | ABBY ANDERSON’S MASTERLIST
PRESENT TIME
saints mary’s hospital - 2:30 am on a saturday morning
the saying goes, “it’s not about how you start, it’s how you finish.” didn’t quite apply. time seemed to move in a blur, making it impossible to piece together a coherent thought. the room filled only with the echoes of your loud, wanton sounds mingling with abby’s, far removed from anything deemed professional. however you weren't concerned with those details, not at all. with the way abby was able to extract those sounds from your throat was almost painful.
almost.
abby derived an addiction from your pleasure. each moment of ecstasy seemed to fuel her further, driving her to amplify the tempo and depth of her ministrations. as the room filled with the lewd symphony of flesh meeting flesh and intertwined heavy breaths, something stirred within abby. something unfamiliar, uncharted. normally, she would exhibit unrivaled confidence during intimate encounters, but with you, it was different—more intense, deeper. a desperate craving to be perfect, to ensure you'd never seek anyone else, but her. she’d hate to admit it, but the realization gnaws at her: the longing for you even after this is over.
"who's making you cum tonight?" abby questioned the obvious, but her arrogance tone underlined the strong need for reassurance. your moans were her only response, and while she adored the sweet sounds, she craved more. a sudden shift in her fingers’ movements made you yell out, "you, abby.” your words punctuated by cries of pleasure.
abby's fingers, now confined within your tight grip, sensed the growing tension, the impending eruption, the imminent of your orgasm. "uh-huh, come for me," she ordered, "let me hear who’s making a mess of you."
the warnings of your impending release came with fervor, each thrust hastening to the inevitable snap of the tightening band in your abdomen. then when it did, a cry rang out, loud and clear, as her name left your lips in tandem with your essence painting her features. in this haze of euphoria, you suddenly find a sense of clarity, wondering how in all worlds did you end up in this situation, in the arms— or rather the mouth of your boss?
MONTHS BEFORE
saints mary’s hospital - 3:20 am on a monday night
the staff room was still mostly quiet, the faint sounds of a few muttered conversations and the soft hum of the fluorescent bulb created a low hum of background noise to complement the bigger situation in hand. you had just finished discarding your dirty gloves and discovered that some residue had clung to your uniform, prompting a soft groan of disgust to escape your lips.
you picked up another clean uniform and quickly changed into it, your mind wandering to the series of events that led you to this moment. working in a hospital meant dealing with a never-ending slew of new problems each day, some imprinting themselves in your memory more vividly than others.
and this time was memorable—at least for the night —for an aggravating sense. it was a vomiting incident in room nine that not only you witnessed, but you were also permitted to clean up after. fun, you thought sarcastically as you trudged your way with a bucket and sponge. nonetheless here you were, the aftermath, running a hand through your uniform to smooth out any wrinkles with your other hand on the doorknob, taking a long, exasperated intake prior to stepping out.
with a final exhale, you turned the knob and stepped out into the main hospital ward. the familiar sounds of hushed conversations and the constant hum of machinery filled your ears as you walked through the hallways.
with your desk in your line of sight now, your body starts to move faster as the thought of getting some much needed rest sets in. despite that, you took a quick glance around, searching for her presence, but finding no resemblance.
a sigh of relief escaped your lips as you settled into the plush chair, the cushions embracing your tired body. hands squeezing the pads provided on the arm’s office chair, this was heaven. but satan herself wouldn’t let that alleviation last for long, she never does. not in this hospital. your body suddenly tensed up and jerked forward as the sound of a hand slamming into the surface of your desk reached your ears. fuck, you thought, your head automatically turning to see the horned asshole with the little tail stuck up her ass.
“what the fuck was that back there, huh? i’ve had people complaining left and right.” she spoke, her face contorted with anger. you knew that was a lie, only there to further embarrass you in front of everyone. the “great” abby anderson was known to make something bigger than it actually was. but you’d be lying if you didn’t say that disruption left you breathless, seemed like all and any explanation that could clear your name left you, but even if you did, would it even work? or would abby deem it as a barely acceptable excuse, or quote “a three year old can lie better than you” excuse?
you could hardly breathe, your mind racing to try to explain yourself. every mistake seemed to be met with harsh criticism, and it was taking its toll on you. your voice wavered as you stuttered out a singular word in response: “what?”
abby’s expression only hardened further, her voice mocking your supposed ignorance. “couldn’t you see the medication you gave her was gonna result in nausea?”
each word was enunciated with sharp frustration, as if you were supposed to have known better, but you didn’t know. it wasn’t stated on the patient's file that she’d react like that. you followed protocol, knowing the consequences if you didn't, and followed through based on the information in hand. you weren’t in the wrong, and you explained that to abby.
though she didn’t seem to care at all, instead her words echoed through your mind like a painful reminder; you keep it up, and you’ll end up on your ass in front of this hospital.
her threat sent a pang of dread through you, and the loud thud of her office door shutting only added to your sinking feeling. you let out a heavy sigh, bringing your hand up to your eyes and rubbing them, trying to ward off the exhaustion and anxiety swirling within you.
your thoughts were interrupted as you realized the truth behind abby’s threat. you had a proven record as a dedicated and skilled employee, and deep down, you knew abby knew it too. there was a reason she couldn’t just fire you on a whim —she needed a valid justification to complete that pesky employee termination form sitting on her desk.
as you pondered on these thoughts, you let out a resigned sigh, the threat suddenly feeling less intimidating and more like a broken record you heard over and over again.
FIVE DAYS LATER
saints mary’s hospital - 11:01 pm on a saturday night
there was a newfound sense of comfort that accompanied your realization. although abby’s words still stung and cut deeply, you now had a silent reassurance— a knowledge that her threats were ultimately empty, that mere words could do nothing. your mind was now at ease, knowing that despite her harshness, she couldn’t truly harm you. the thought gave you a strange sense of power, even as she spewed her usual cruelty.
with your profound resilience, you found yourself feeling more lively and vibrant than before. you no longer fretted over every small mistake or worry constantly about doing your job wrong. your once reserved and introverted self now blossomed, making connections and building friendships where there had been none before.
amelia, the colleague who sat beside you for a year, but whom you had never truly spoken to, was now a friend, and the two of you formed a bond beyond just work-related interaction.
“darling, it’s wishful thinking that the inferno herself would let you off so easily,” amelia teases, the soft pads of her fingertips dancing along the keys of her keyboard. her familiar british accent rolls off and into your ear, making you scoff.
“it’s just for a day.” you mumble, your hands flipping the page to the never-ending paperwork waiting for you. you stop and look at amelia who’s now reclined in her chair, arms crossed with a knowing smirk.
“oh love,” laughed amelia, her playful jab at your wishful thinking only making her more endearing. “i’d love to entertain your rather ludicrous idea, but in doing so would be criminal!”
her words stung a little, you knew she was right, but hearing her say it out loud had you clenching your jaw slightly. abby would never agree to letting you take a day off from the hospital, it seemed like the whole place would fall apart without your presence.
and while it felt like an honor— at times. you longed for just one day off, a single day to rest amongst the countless days spent diligently working at the hospital. how criminal could that be? as amelia called it, you felt your shoulders sag and nodding quietly in resignation. your features must have betrayed your disappointment, as amelia swiftly noticed and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.
amelia smiled sympathetically, her eyes soft as she saw your frustration. “cheer up, darling. it was just a quip.” she said softly, her tone filled with comfort.
you tried to hold back your tears when you spoke, your voice faltering as you looked up at amelia. “It's not that. i just… work my ass off, and don't even get the recognition i deserve.” your words trailed off as you let out a frustrated sigh. “and it's not like i’m just looking for that.” you pause to mend the right words together. “just some sort of break from it all.” you quickly sniffle, attempting to hide the tears that had escaped from your eyes during your confession. your embarrassment was evident as you turned away, trying to compose yourself. “god, i’m sorry for this.” you sighed heavily, reaching for a tissue to wipe away your tears.
amelia pats your shoulder, her voice filled with understanding. “no, no, i get it, darling. you need a break as much as anyone does in this bloody facility. perhaps more than hamburger-munching samson over there.” she quips, referring to a less than efficient employee.
you let out a tearful laugh, your grin still tinged with sadness. “yeah.” you agreed, your voice heavy with resignation.
amelia smiled warmly at your smile, her hand giving your thigh a comforting pat. “go ask her, and if she doesn't oblige, tell her i'll cover for you.”
her sweet words of offering to cover for you had you fighting back tears again, determined to not further burden her with your crying, and managed to let out a shaky chuckle.
you try to protest, feeling a pang of guilt for potentially inconveniencing her. “you don't have to do that.” you say softly.
however, amelia is resolute, dismissing your objections with a firm, yet gentle push. “no darling,” she replies firmly. “i don’t, but i want to. now go on.” her insistence is unwavering, and you can see that she will not take no for an answer.
with a resigned sigh of “okay”, you straighten your shoulders and approach the entrance to abby's office. a quick glance back at amelia sees her raising her thumbs in a gesture of encouragement to go ahead. you return a grateful smile before turning back around and lifting your hand to knock on the door. but before your knuckles make contact, the door swings open, revealing abby.
you freeze in surprise, caught off guard by the sudden appearance of abby before you even had the chance to knock on the door. you realize you must look like a fool, standing there frozen with your arm raised in the air. feeling a sudden pang of self-consciousness, you quickly lower your arm and bring your other hand up to cup it gently, almost as if you could somehow conceal your awkward position.
abby’s smile catches you off guard, surprised to see her display such genuine happiness at your surprised arrival. "oh—there you are.” she says.
you stand there, slightly confused by her unexpected demeanor. her next words, spoken calmly, further perplexed you: "come in." this gentle tone is unfamiliar coming from her, as she's never used it with you before, reserving it only for the presence of supervisors.
she leaves the door open for you, a silence gesture for you to enter before taking her seat at her desk. "i was going to call for you, but it seems like you heard my call telepathically." she quips, chuckling at her own joke.
you internally scoff at her stupid joke, quietly shutting the door behind you as you enter her office. "well, don't just stand there, sit." she instructs, her smile still uncharacteristically cheerful— almost eerie. you can't help but wonder if this is all just an act, a facade that will undoubtedly crack like it always does, given abby's fiery nature. however, you comply silently, watching her sift through documents on her desk.
you struggled to keep yourself from asking what she was searching for after you caught a glimpse of it being the employee files. your heart began to race as an oppressive silence enveloped the room, fueling your nerves. was she looking for your file? was this gonna be the moment when she’d reveal the anticipated reason to use on that dreaded employee termination form? your mind swarmed with questions, each more pressing than the last. how much more can you deal with this suspense looming over your shoulder like the grim reaper.
you attempt to speak in a firm tone, but your voice betrays you, wavering at the edges. “why are you so happy?” your own curiosity battling with a sense of reluctance to hear the answer.
“and why are you so gloomy?” she taunts with a smirk, chuckling. “put a smile on that face for me, yeah? you’re gonna do me a big favor.” she admits, her eyes sparkling with anticipation as she mentions the word “favor.” finally finding the paper she had been searching for, she slid it across her desk in your direction. the paper contains the resume of someone you’re unfamiliar with, and your curiosity piqued.
"this is cassidy mcclair," she pauses. "and you'll be her mentor for the week. she's the new replacement nurse after what happened to poor old sadie." a pang of irritation stabs at you as abby uses a condescending tone when mentioning sadie. her untimely demise still weighed heavily on your mind.
you inadvertently let out a scoff as you cross your arms, immediately regretting the impulsive action. abby glances up at you, arching her eyebrow before speaking.
"is there a problem?" her question rhetorical, signaling her indifference to your potential objection. however, you're determined to express your feelings, regardless if rhetorical or not. you werent gonna give some half-ass smile and nod. after all, it wouldn’t be the first time your opinionated mind got you into trouble, as abby so often reminded you.
you respond with a defiant tone, your words clearly expressing your dissatisfaction. “yeah, there is actually.” you retort, your arms remaining defiantly crossed. “you’re supposed to do this. not me.”
abby chuckles at your boldness, her expression growing serious as she responds, “that was rhetorical, surely anyone with a hint of common sense would catch on. frankly, i don’t give a fuck if it is.” she dismisses your argument, beginning to organize the documents on her desk, grabbing the paper in front of you without sparing an eye, her attention now focused elsewhere. despite your differences, you remain silent, yet seething within at her dismissive response.
“be here at eight pm sharp on monday.” she adds, ending the conversation on her terms.
so much for a day off..
AN HOUR AFTER
hospital’s break room - 1:17 am on a sunday morning
after your unsolicited meeting with abby, your emotions were overflowing and the need to confide in someone was at an all time high. though the term 'confide' may be a stretch, considering you practically unloaded your frustrations to the mere mention of "hey, heard you had a meeting with the boss?"
“she didn’t even let me speak, once!” you exclaim, frustration seeping through each and every word, punctuating your sentence with lifting your pointed finger.
talia responds with a sympathetic tone, saying, “she tends to do that..” her words trail off, and you can almost feel the strain in her voice, knowing that she’s the unsuspecting recipient of your pent-up frustrations.
“right! god, she’s so fucking…” you trail off, trying to find the right word to describe her. “infuriating!” you say louder than anticipated.
she looks up from the coffee maker, surprise etched on her face as other heads turn towards you, startled by your outburst. you sheepishly mutter an apology before letting out a dejected sigh. trying to lighten the mood, you force a smile and lean against the counter. "so, have you had to do any of abby's dirty work too?" you quirk an eyebrow.
the long haired girl chuckles at your antics, her gaze fixated on the coffee maker as it slowly fills her cup with the dark, yet energizing substance. she turns her attention back to you, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. "yeah, actually.” she replies, her voice filled with good-natured sass. "but she made the task sound much kinder when she assigned it." she jested.
you jokingly say, "oh, fuck you," to which she responds with a playful eyeroll, but then curiosity takes over. "but really?" you ask curiously. "how'd it go?"
a dreaded sigh escapes talia’s lips as she recounts her memories of being assigned to mentor a new employee. the mirth vanishes from your expression as she begins to share her experience, the once lighthearted atmosphere replaced by a sense of foreboding.
“oh, terrible," talia responds through the sigh, her laugh edged with strain before looking back at the coffee maker, which is about a quarter away from being done. "sometimes, i wondered what would be inside her head if i were to cut it open. a brain made out of putty, or no brain at all?" her words make you wince as you begin to imagine what your own experience might be like. the idea of being a mentor to a complete idiot was less than appealing.
talia takes notice of your nervousness and quickly tries to reassure you, saying, "but i assure you, your experience won't be like mine." she offers a nervous smile, hoping to alleviate your concerns.
you respond with an uneasy chuckle and a reluctant "yeah.” not truly convinced by her reassurance. you know that only time will tell if her words will hold true, and so you find yourself resigned to the fact that you'll have to impatiently wait until monday to find out.
THREE DAYS LATER
your home - 6:03 am on a monday morning
the incessant blaring of your alarm felt like background noise for the past three minutes, though you've been wide awake for about ten minutes prior to its start. last night, sleep eluded you, as anxiety and exhaustion plagued your thoughts. you had hoped that your previous activities on your day off would tire you and help you sleep, but unfortunately, that was not the case. you had laid awake for an extra hour, struggling until sleep finally took over.
your anxiety, semi-dissociative state can be attributed to your "big day" ahead, as abby had nicknamed it. the thought of the unknown had you sweating bullets. not to mention, your boss’s words that stayed with you like crazy glue, stubbornly stuck in your mind. with reluctance, you forced yourself out of bed and into the bathroom.
as you turn on the faucet, the soft meows of your kitty-cat, charles, reach your ears. your face lights up with a smile as you turn and spot him. you kneel down, showering him with a few gentle pets as he responds with a pleased purr. "hey, buddy," you whisper, planting a kiss on his head. you then stand up to check the water temperature, only to huff in frustration when it doesn't meet your desired level. turning to the kitty by your side, you murmur, "i know, bud. lemme feed you while i wait for the water."
the kitty yowls eagerly and paws at your legs, anticipating its food. you repeatedly tap the can's bottom against the bowl until the food finally falls free, landing on the plate. the cat's excitement escalates as it watches you kneel down to place the plate on the ground. chuckling, you observe the kitty pounce on the food as soon as it touches the ground.
“eat up, spud.” you give your feline friend one last pat before walking away to the bathroom. you undress and check the water's temperature once more, finding it to your liking. with a satisfied nod, you step inside, letting the hot water wash over you and momentarily rinse away your worries for today.
AN HOUR AND HALF LATER-ISH
saints mary’s hospital - 7:28 am
what was meant to be a calming shower had obliterated your sense of time, leaving you in a scrambling to finish your morning routine. with a start, you realize it was nearly seven-thirty, and sprung into action, throwing your clothes on at an almost superhuman speed. you had never dried your hair this quick before in your entire life. yes, abby had mentioned to be there at eight, but you knew that translated to "be there before eight."
you arrive at the hospital just before eight, clutching your coffee like a lifeline, knowing all too well that you wouldn't make it through the day without it. you quickly exit the elevator, stepping into the lobby to find abby engaged in conversation with a red-haired woman.
the ginger had her hair braided, resembling abby's but with more volume. her fair complexion was adorned with freckles, resembling a sky full of stars. like many others on this floor, she wore a blues-and-white uniform, with a small cat pin attached to her shirt pocket. her colorful keys hung around her neck, and her radiant smile oozed an infectious energy, effortlessly drawing a reciprocating smile from you as you approached.
your smile momentarily falters as you overhear abby's sarcastic, yet condescending tone. “oh, there's the princess!" she exclaims, closing the distance to you with the woman following suit behind. this must’ve been the woman abby was talking about, leaving you feeling increasingly anxious, your eyes locked on the girl behind her. however, abby manages to draw your focus as she speaks up.
“this is cassidy. the one i told you about the last time we spoke.” she says firmly, bringing her hand up to her shoulder and beckons her toward you.
“hi.” you say shyly.
cassidy reciprocates the greeting with a wave, her expression a mix of nervousness and surprise. however, before she can respond, abby cuts in, with a tone of sarcasm. “i trust you won't be as late as our little princess here was," she says, referring to you, causing cassidy to nervously laugh and answer with a tentative "no."
your frustration peaked as you clenched your fists, your anger evident. It was clear what abby was trying to do once again, to twist the truth and make you appear worse than you actually are. she smirked, seemingly enjoying your irritation, before patting cassidy on the shoulder and wishing her good luck.
with the condescending smirk, abby leaned in to whisper in your ear, her tone different, dripping with sarcasm. "good luck, princess." and with that, she walked away, leaving you to face the challenge ahead.
"cunt," you silently say to yourself in annoyance, sending a glare at abby's retreating form. after a moment, you plaster on a forced smile and turn your attention to the ginger girl in front of you. you extend a hand and saying, “hi, i’m y/n."
"hi, i’m cassidy, but you already know that," she laughs, taking your hand in hers and shaking it firmly. after releasing her grip, she absentmindedly begins to stroke her braid with the same hand, a subtle fidget that seems to be her go-to anxiety coping mechanism.
you smile, genuinely impressed by her hair color. “yeah, i love the color of your hair, by the way. it's beautiful.” a hint of bashfulness washes over cassidy's cheeks as she responds, "thank you, it's my natural hair."
you let out a soft "cute..." as your eyes dart over her vibrant locks before gathering your thoughts. "well, let's get to work," you sigh, beginning to walk over to your desk. cassidy quickly follows, and upon reaching your desk, you set down your things and greet amelia with a friendly smile. you then turn your attention back to cassidy, clipboard clutched in your hand.
“alright, just follow me this way.” you lead cassidy through the hospital floor, providing her with a tour of the different departments. while the tour starts off awkwardly, you and cassidy manage to strike up some small talk. despite her quiet demeanor, she proves to be a hard worker, efficiently tending to her tasks. you can relate to her reserved nature, knowing firsthand how it feels to be somewhat introverted.
FEW HOURS LATER
hospital’s break room - 12:40 pm on a monday afternoon
after having cassidy follow you around like a lost puppy, occasionally taking notes on her little cat shaped notepad when needed. you both sat in a corner, eating in comfort silence. amongst the normality, you couldn’t help but notice her lunchbox also in a cat-like shape. a soft chuckle escaped you, causing cassidy to look up from her food, her chewing briefly stopped to ask, “what?”
you point out the box which promptly makes her look down, mouthing “oh.” cassidy chuckles nervously, her cheeks tinted with a hint of embarrassment. "i suppose i’m a cliché," she admits, her smile widening. "it’s no secret now that i enjoy girly things.”
you nod, a smile playing at the corners of your lips in response. "i think it's cute." you utter with a slight smirk.
cassidy grins, a hint of self-consciousness in her expression. "you don't think it's too silly?" she asks, seeking validation.
"nope," you reply sincerely, “everyone has their own interests. who am i to judge?" you shrug, emphasizing the point.
cassidy chuckles again, playfully teasing you with her next words. "i'd beg to differ." she pauses for a moment, before continuing, "dr. anderson seems to be quite interested in you." her tone implies a hint of a tease, suggesting that abby's fondness for you may be noticeable to the people around you.
as soon as cassidy suggests that abby has a soft spot for you, you sputter and cough, practically choking on your food. between gasping breaths, you manage to exclaim, "what?! you definitely need your eyes checked!"
cassidy's eyes widen with concern, and she begins to pat your back to help you through your coughing fit. after regaining your composure, you nod, trying to play it cool as she asks if you’re alright. your voice is still strained when you speak, "i’m fine, but what makes you say something like that?" you ask, completely bewildered.
once she's assured that you're okay, cassidy begins to chuckle lightly and leans back in her chair, arms crossed in a confident stance as if she solved the equation pi in her one sitting. "i’ve seen the way she talks to you," she says, low and soft, smirking.
“yeah, she talks like she has a stick up her ass.”
your blunt comment about abby having a "stick up her ass" makes cassidy erupt into laughter. "yeah, that's—that’s definitely true," she concedes, still giggling, "but there's also… a passion behind it." she pauses before continuing. “It's like she does it out of love or something," her eyes fixed on you.
you let out an amused sigh and roll your eyes, responding with a playful retort, "yeahh, I don't know about that." you can't help but chuckle as you continue, "but, that’s definitely crazy talk." you tease, a hint of mirth in your voice.
cassidy laughs, feigning surrender by holding her hands up in a playful gesture. "hey," she says, a toothy grin plastered on her face, "i know what i'm seeing." she retorts.
you continue to eat, a scoff escaping your lips as you try to dismiss her earlier accusations. "you saw a bunch of nothing.” you remark, keeping your tone nonchalant. cassidy responds with a soft scoff of her own, but the silence that follows is strained, uncomfortable, well at least for you… you think.
your mind drifts back to all the times you've interacted with abby, a strange feeling beginning to grow inside you. there were no signs, no hint of anything more than anger and hatred, right? no itty bitty details so unmissable to others, but you? no, it couldn’t be, that’d be ridiculous, hell, every it'd be a synonym in the book ridiculous! there were never any crossovers besides hatred, a mysterious hatred, but hatred nonetheless. come to think of it, you never really found out why she hated you so goddamn much. was it envy? fear? if so, of what exactly?
whatever the case was, it doesn't matter. because you would fucking pay to see her at your mercy. beneath you with a look of hopelessness glistening in her eyes, for it to be her to struggle to utter a simple explanation, only for you to completely demolish the right of speaking. to watch that stupidly neat braid disheveled and her oh so infuriatingly muscular arms that seemed to taunt you, begging to be popped like a balloon.
yeah… you definitely hated this woman.
SIX MONTHS LATER
front desk - 1:30 pm on a wednesday afternoon
gathering any loose strands of hairs from the nape of your neck with one hand, you create a makeshift ponytail, struggling to keep a straight face as cassidy’s stifled laughter resonates nearby. you playfully chastise her, trying to suppress your own laughter.
“stop laughing,” you admonish, your attempt at a stern tone is undermined by your own stifled giggles. “you’re gonna get us caught!”
as luck would have it, you and cassidy had bonded over an unexpected shared interest— a love for plants. and they say that a mother’s life is over when they have kids. quite literal bullshit if you ask anyone with a brain. cassidy, besides being nature’s supporter, was also incredibly humorous, her wit and humor made work a little more bearable.
over a few rounds of cold beers, she had discovered abby’s mysterious hatred for you. her curiosity knew no bounds, weaving theories on why, but never truly connecting the dots. from that point on, she couldn't resist teasing abby when she erupted into her typical outbursts—episodes she jokingly dubbed "hissy fits." just a few weeks ago, she had been assigned to work the counter beside you after amelia went on maternity leave.
"check this one out," the red-head chimes, tilting her phone towards eyes’s view to reveal a piece of media from abby’s instagram. cassidy, as if being a FBI agent was her second job, didn’t break a sweat looking for abby’s entire life online the moment it was plausible.
now, knowing who to call, you glance to see a photo of the blonde with her usual serious expression. the framing itself is taken from an awkward angle. “she’s so stiff, like a damn statue.” she laughs.
you let your hands fall once successfully securing your hair in a bun, a chuckle escaping your lips. "not a bad-looking statue, though," you remark casually, shrugging your shoulders. a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you added, "maybe she should start a new career as a model. the 'stiff but stunning' look could be all the rage."
cassidy quirks an eyebrow your way, a mischievous gleam in her eye as she teases you, “oh, am i sensing something here?”
you respond with a scoff, hastily denying any such notion with playful push. “god, no!” you exclaim, feigning offense, your laugh mingling with her own.
amidst the laughter, your moment is abruptly interrupted by the overwhelming waft of a potent perfume that assaults your senses. immediately, you recognize the scent and dart your gaze towards its source—abby’s new assistant. wearing a top brazenly too small for her ample cleavage with an extravagant makeup job tailored for a circus clown, it's painfully obvious whom this performance is intended to impress.
fucking ‘asshole’ anderson. It’s a pity really; she’s a decent-looking girl, but a relentless ass-kisser. everyone in the hospital picked up on her antics pretty quickly, constantly trying to win abby’s favor. rumors speculated, suggesting they did more than just work together, but hey, they’re just rumors.
“you should be working, abby wouldn’t like this.” her grating voice rings out, dripping with unwarranted confidence.
“we’re on our break, alexa.” you reply coolly, not bothering to mask the distaste in your expression.
she theatrically glances at her watch and purses her lips, stating smugly, “not anymore.” her gaze flicks to you, a smirk playing at her lips. it takes every ounce of restraint you possess not to grab her by the hair and slam her head against the wall. instead, you listen as she adds, "i should be informing abby about this,” she emphasizes with her hand, going in a circular motion towards you and cassidy before finishing. “but she's requested your presence in her office right now."
you stare at her, bewilderment etched across your face. abby? needing you in her presence? the confusion can’t linger long when she impatiently snaps her fingers.
"chop, chop, she doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” she prompts, her tone dripping with condescension.
fucking bitch.
"you said you needed me?" you inquired, poking your head through the door’s open crack.
"yes, shut the door and take a seat." she affirms, witnessing firsthand the intentitive— almost obsessive behavior driven by a need to be perfection itself. her eyes don’t move from the paperwork at hand, but there’s no need for her body language and demeanor is a revelation on its own.
her stoicism matched almost flawlessly, as if they had been meticulously practiced in the mirror—akin to a morning ritual, like a cup of coffee. and her physique? it’s a memoir to resolution, sculpted from the divine hands of a deity, making you wonder: how could a person be so flawless? is she a forsaken angel, once god's favorite, now cast away from grace?
her voice, now with a hint of a crisp clear edge, breaks the silence, stating firmly, "i need to discuss something with you." her arms are now visible, resting on top of her desk, hands neatly folded together, an action that seizes your attention like a magnet. was this beautiful “angel” of a woman merely toying with you, masquerading as a jester with deceptive tricks?
nervously, you lick your dry lips and nod, responding with a strained voice, "yeah?" she picked up on that.
her eyes narrow with curiosity, and she leans forward, her voice laced with suspicion as she queries, “tell me,” she begins, letting the question linger in the air for a moment. “why do you still waste time with cassidy?” her tone carries a note of mild disdain. “she’s a bit.. odd, don’t you think?”
within the span of a moment, a wave of frustration surges through you, compelling you to argue your case. however, you find yourself inexplicably entranced by her features, unable to break the spell that has woven its way around your thoughts. nodding without conscious thought, your gaze is transfixed on the magnificence standing before you— the artistry of her face and form.
the sun's warm glow streams through the windows just behind her, casting a radiant light upon her as if nature itself were emphasizing its own masterpiece. every detail of her appearance is meticulously crafted, like a tempting apple dangling in front of the unsuspecting. a loose strand of hair falls gracefully in front of her face, accentuating the fine features of her facial structure. the angular lines of her nose seem to carry the weight of her sharp-edged spectacles, and her eyes, often lacking warmth, rarely seek solace in anything but themselves.
the sinew, a testament to the muscularity of her arms, even beneath the loose confines of her doctor’s coat, as if they were destined to stand out, to be admired. the way she held her pen moments ago makes it seem almost insignificant in comparison to her thick fingers, wrapped around it like a vice. her penmanship is impeccable, smooth and faultless, as if her hand is a perfectly calibrated machine.
god’s greatest gifts bestowed on its worst creation alive.
"are you even listening to me, right now?" she questions, her jaw setting tight.
startled, you snapped out of your reverie, blinking to moisten the dry eyes that had forgotten to blink in their fixated state, you confirm. “yes.” no.
“i asked you a question.” she snaps, her voice stern.
“what was the question?” you stammer, feeling flustered under her intense scrutiny.
“why—forget it.” a sudden shift in her expression indicates a change of mind. it seems the words didn’t sound as smart when she voiced them aloud.
“what?” you stutter, leaning forward in your chair. “what were you going to say?”
“i said, nevermind,” she replies, her tone firm and dismissive. “you’re free to go.” she averts her gaze from you, redirecting it towards her paperwork, as if you had suddenly become unimportant and unworthy of her attention.
you’re left dumbfounded, what was that about?
FEW HOURS LATER
your bedroom - 3:20 am on a thursday morning
your sharp gasp and the tension in your body were palpable, confined to the bed where your body lay cushioned. a hand ran through your hair before tugging it tightly, adding to the pleasure that coursed through you. the serene hum of your vibrator, nestled between your legs, was a poor substitute for the fantasies that danced through your mind.
your guilty pleasures, your secret desire.
“oh, abby!” you moaned, the broken syllable laced with longing. images of her flashed through your mind, your body yearning for the warmth of her fingers instead of the cold, mechanical pleasure your toy provided. the thought of being stretched by her strong, capable hands was all it took to push you over the edge.
a wave of ecstasy crashed over you, your body shaking as you orgasmed, the fantasy of abby's touch more potent than the reality. the intensity of your pleasure left you breathless, even as you knew it was only a fleeting escape from reality.
as your mind snaps back, an overwhelming rush of realization washes over you. you toss aside the vibrator, sitting up with a sigh. you can’t help, but feel shame towards yourself. the thought of your boss—the one person who makes your life a living hell—occupies your thoughts. how could you even entertain the thought of her?
a fallen angel, huh?
SAID “FALLEN ANGEL”
abby anderson
she was fucking on one today, and in return she thought you were too. her mind was consumed by you. even the morning coffee, always a comfort, tasted bitter and cold. she didn't even acknowledge the usual flirtatious advances from her assistant when she greeted her this morning. instead, she simply asked for her requested files and retreated to the sanctuary of her office, locking the door behind her.
it was always you, stirring up trouble by merely existing near her. cassidy mcclair, that braid-wearing copycat bitch, had you wrapped around her serpentine fingers. and you? you should have known better than to waste your precious time with people like that, but there you were. in fact, compared to these idiots you had to call coworkers, you were leaps and bounds above them.
you were just making a mistake, a mistake that was costing her sleep— more than she already doesn’t get.
she silently fumed as she stood in front of her office door for her daily check on what everyone was doing, over the years making mental lists of the flaws of each employee. amelia, didn’t know if she was bleating or laughing, and those killer front teeth— literally. one glance and someone’s head would be off. then there was samson, who seemed to do nothing, but shove burgers down his gargantuan throat. she was convinced he never even bothered to chew.
it was laughable, and she could go on and on about the flaws each one of her employees had. but you, well, not a single flaw could be attributed to you. not one mentioned on any list of the many she had. in essence, you were the embodiment of a boss's dream employee—quick on the case, a good sport, but until now, there was one flaw that had eluded you: the habits of hanging around the wrong people.
granted, it's not like cassidy was forcing drugs down your throat, but it was clear she was trouble. competition, that had to be eliminated. but one might wonder, why? why did abby have such a deep-seated grudge against you? why did she feel this burning urge to take you down? just like a pack of wolves, having her sights set on the weak link, ready to pounce.
deep down, abby didn't fully understand her intense feelings towards you. each attempt to articulate her emotions only led to frustration as they were often misinterpreted in the delivery. you made her nervous in a way that was both understandable and utterly perplexing, leaving her with feelings uncharted. in a desperate attempt to maintain control, she decided the best course of action was to keep her fondness for you hidden. surely, as long as you remained oblivious to her affections, there would be no complications, right?
she’d pledge that promise to the death, do everything to her power to keep it this way. there would be no vulnerability, no broken hearts to be on the mend, even if meant being cruel. but when cassidy came and first laid her eyes on you. oh, how she wanted to claw her eyes out just for even staring at you for a millisecond long.
it infuriated her to see how easily cassidy could evoke laughter and smiles from you, things that abby denied herself. many long, self deprecating nights filled with overflowing ashtrays of spent cigarettes and a collection of empty whiskey glasses were becoming too often to be called a casual drinker.
the day she requested your presence in her office, and sat across from her as she filled out the paperwork to transfer cassidy to another floor was a moment of triumph. however, her satisfaction evaporated rather quickly—leaving her dry to the bone. throughout the entire conversation, you appeared to be dazed, barely registering a word she spoke. had she been too late? were you already so smitten with cassidy that you couldn't even comprehend a word coming out of her mouth?
was it already too late?
after you had left her office, abby found herself lost in a whirlwind of thoughts. alone with her musings, her mind raced, and suddenly, all her thoughts aligned. if the two of you were indeed in a relationship, as it seemed so obvious, then separating the two of you would create an irreversible ripple effect. like two peas in a pod, together you were a force to be reckoned with, but tearing one away and crushing it would change everything.
if cassidy wanted to stoop low, she could go lower.
ANDERSON’S ESTATE
4:54 am on a sunday morning
due to the convoluted approval process, the transfer paperwork would likely take weeks, if not months, to be approved. there was no way abby could allow that to happen. by the time the transfer was accepted, you'd be off in dubai for a honeymoon with your apparent soulmate, sipping margaritas without a care in the world. no, she had to find a way to expedite the process, and it had to be done by the end of this overcoming week.
so she found herself in her office, nursing a few glasses of whiskey and indulging in chain-smoking cigarettes, a habit she could never partake in one without the other. surrounded by the solace of her private liar, the alcohol and nicotine fueled her thoughts, as she brainstormed list after list of ways to get rid of cassidy. patient abandonment was one option, but it ran the risk of tarnishing her own reputation as well. however, she was past the point of caring about the repercussions of her actions. all that mattered was taking down cassidy, one way or another.
feeling a mixture of an uncomfortable unfulfillment and disoriented, she runs a hand through her tousled mane. with a groan, rubs her eyes and gets up, smoldering the glowing embers of the cigarette in the overflowing ashtray before trudging off to bed like a pouting toddler.
In the comforts of her bed, shafts of dawn gently seeped through the curtains, with her loyal puppy, alice, sleeping at her feet, whining occasionally as she glanced up at her owner. abby couldn't help but wonder if the dog was attempting to communicate with her, as if offering a cautionary message. was it the effects of the whiskey and cigarettes playing tricks on her mind, or was her canine companion genuinely trying to warn her of impending consequences? these thoughts swirled through her muddled mind, yet the idea of it actually seemed far-fetched.
it’s a thing to think of, and another to do.
ONE DAY, MONDAY
cheshire cat grin
“and i want you all to be more aware— if you haven’t been already.” the firm voice snapped abby out of her reverie.
a weary sigh emits as her body slumps into a loose crescent shape, the strain of sitting in an ass-numbing chair for hours was finally taking its toll, and listening to her supervisor drone on and on about the same old report on employee performance wasn’t helping either. however, one particular statement caught her undivided attention.
the rise in unauthorized narcotics.
the report revealed that there had been a 3% increase in the number of supplies used compared to the usual amount. this increase caused considerable stress for the superior, who advised—no, demanded that all doctors on each floor find the culprit.
with mounting irritation from the current predicament, the overseer noticed abby’s expression and prompted her with a question. “is there anything you’d like to say, abigail?” she inquired, presumptuously.
as the superior fixed a firm gaze on her, abby’s initial instinct was to reply with a simple “no.” but then a new thought took hold. she sat up straighter, straightening her normally confident demeanor even further, and responded with a question of her own. “hypothetically speaking, if i do uncover the perpetrator, what measures will be taken in response?”
the woman’s scoff conveyed a dismissive tone, as if the answer was lingering in the air. she smugly responded, “well, hypothetically, they’d be fired on the spot, and all hospitals in the county would be notified never to employ them again.” there was a brief pause before continuing with that same overly confident demeanor, “so, they’d have to move just to find another job.” eyeing abby as if searching for even the slightest hint of nervousness.
under normal circumstances, abby’s temper would have flared at her superior’s condescending tone, but in that moment, everything was perfect. a polite smile abby offered held more than the naked eye could see.
the jigsaw pieces were falling into place.
TWO DAYS LATER, WEDNESDAY
surprise!
the days melded together, each one weighed down by a stack of endless papers and an incessant, desperate assistant who was over her shoulder, relentlessly nagged for her attention. in those moments of exhaustion, she started regretting ever giving them the slightest bit of her attention in the first place, justifying the brief lapses in her focus as mere 'moments of weakness'.
in obeying her supervisor's advice, she had been carefully observing everyone, with a heightened level of scrutiny directed towards cassidy, intentionally growing increasingly “suspicious” of her. with a fierce determination, she wrestled hard to suppress the many outbursts that threatened to spill over simply due to the sight of you and cassidy together.
even as a child, abby had a knack for fixating on unimportant details, down to the intricate nuances of color. her attention to detail had grown into a deep obsession, enabling her to familiarize herself with an object or being within days. with cassidy, she had approached it like disassembling a game of jenga, meticulously analyzing her every action, carefully calculating her plans. all she needed now was the opportune moment to set everything into motion.
just as she was about to execute her plan, a sudden, unexpected event occurred, as if on cue.
with newfound courage bolstered by a glass of whiskey and a cigarette, she rose from her chair, only for the shrill ring of her phone to pierce the tense atmosphere, and she glanced down to see a rarely-seen name on the screen— her grandmother, susana. an unyielding, meticulous woman, had been a source of inspiration for abby as she grew up, shaping her into the determined individual she had become.
susana, was a renowned fashion designer based in paris, a demanding professional life that had left her with limited time to spend with her beloved granddaughter. with a huff, sitting back in her office chair, abby picked up her phone and pressed it against her ear, preparing for their conversation.
"oh, my darling abigail!" the sound of her grandmother's sweet, melodic voice filled abby's ear.
a subtle wince crossed her face, and a forced smile tugs at her lips, almost as if her grandmother could see her through the phone.
"hi.” she responded, prompting her grandmother to lightheartedly tease, "oh, darling, why so timid?" her chuckle echoed over the line.
abby responded with a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of her neck. "sorry, gam-gam, I'm just a bit stressed." she confessed.
her grandmother replied with a lighthearted hum. “well, in that case, meet me at the cafe down the street for a little whine down.” and with a click, the line went dead, leaving abby scarcely a moment to protest.
with a heavy sigh, she tossed her phone aside, muttering, "damnit." frustrated, she ran a hand over her face.
in the reserved confines of their booth, her grandmother inquired with a casual tone, "so, did you receive my letter?" she pierced a strawberry with her fork, taking a bite.
abby responded with a nod, her thoughts momentarily astray to the brief moment earlier when she'd seized the opportunity to execute her plan on cassidy's unattended bag during your lunchtime in the break room. she knew such an opportunity might not present itself again anytime soon, as cassidy was set to be away until friday.
“and the book?”
abby paused, strawberry mid-air on her fork, perplexed by her grandmother's question. "what book?" she questioned with a full mouth, confusion lacing her voice.
her grandmother sighs, explaining, "the book didn't arrive?" she grumbled about the subpar mailing service. "doesn’t matter," she continued, "we can just head over to the bookstore after and replace it." her interest piqued as her grandmother added that it was another mythology book, a favorite topic of hers.
abby's eyes sparkled with excitement. "awe, sweet! i’ve been meaning to go." she responded enthusiastically.
the older woman chuckled, observing, "old habits die hard, I suppose." she then posed a question that seemed to ignite her interest even more. "tell me, have you managed to swoon any girls with your extensive library of knowledge?" her grandmother's smile grew wider at this question, her genuine wish for abby's happiness evident. how could abby possibly ruin her grandmother's happiness?
abby wasn't one to lie, but she felt compelled to do so, especially since the truth was more difficult to share. a gentle smile tugged at her lips, and a blush appeared on her face as she played with the blueberry on her plate. though it was a lie, it was an effortless one. "well, there's this one girl at work," she began, her voice growing more softer. "she’s incredibly sweet, and I think she likes me." the rosiness in her cheeks deepened, adding a touch of authenticity to her fib.
“awe, sugarplum, who is it?”
“her name is y/n.”
ANOTHER TWO DAYS LATER, FRIDAY
the final act
after two days of being completely immersed in the book, abby managed to force herself back to reality. cassidy had reappeared, prompting abby to resume her daily observations. she diligently watched over you and cassidy, particularly monitoring the red-head’s interactions.
she had arranged a private conversation with the supervisor, raising concerns about “suspicious” behavior involving cassidy. the supervisor guaranteed action before six pm that afternoon. all she needed to do now was secure her bag alone before then. abby set an alarm on her watch, stashed the narcotics in her pocket, and exited her office, determined to carry out her plan.
she closed her door and was immediately greeted by the familiar sounds of chatter and movement, the distinctive scent of the hospital filling her nose. as she inhaled, it was as if she was breathing in the purest air. but then, the explosive sound of a voice abruptly shattered her moment of comfort. she jumped in surprise and turned her head to see a nurse.
"sorry, doctor," she apologized, her smile tinged with nervousness. "i—uhm, have documents for you to sign for a discharge." she extended the clipboard, waiting for abby to take it.
still feeling discombobulated, abby nodded stiffly as she accepted the clipboard and signed it. “are… are you okay?” the nurse's question caught her off guard, prompting her to look up. "yes—yes, I'm fine.” she replied, her voice somewhat strained.
saying a brief goodbye, she walks down the hallway, and sees cassidy getting dressed in the staff room. abby smirks, and walks inside just as she’s gonna leave. the initial door opening scares, making her jump back, and she sees it’s abby, she greets her with a smile, and quick hi, trying to exit. but abby isnt gonna let her leave so quick.
abby says a brief farewell and proceeds down the hallway, catching sight of cassidy dressing up in the staff room. she stops with a grinch-like grin saunters into the room just as cassidy is about to exit. the sudden door opening startles cassidy, making her jump back. she quickly greets abby with a smile and a casual "hi," attempting to leave. however, abby is determined not to let her go that easily.
"hey, wait." abby halts cassidy in her tracks with a firm arm grab, causing her to stop.
cassidy looks up, bewildered, and clutches her bag close to her shoulder, waiting to see what this was about. abby’s eyebrows furrowed, it’s been truly a long time since she stood by her self-proclaimed enemy. she didn't seem to have changed much— not that she cared to notice, except for the new pin on her shirt— a small pride flag, cute.
abby scoffs, chuckling which prompts cassidy to raise an eyebrow. “what’s so funny?”
in response, she shakes her head dismissively, replying with a hint of mischief, "nothing, just a joke i remembered." adding slyly with a cunning smile, she continues, "how do you like working here?"
cassidy swallows, her nerves becoming visibly apparent as she nods in agreement. "it’s good," she reiterates, adding, "yeah, i love working with the children."
abby hums in response, laughing. "well, don't let me stop you." she promptly opens the door for cassidy, eliciting a smile from her in response, and as she begins to pass through, the taller blonde adds. “enjoy it while it lasts.”
as she watched cassidy leave with her bag in hand, abby's emotions were divided. she felt a sense of sheer satisfaction, empowerment, her lips twisting into a muscle straining grin as she watched the bag recede into the distance, carrying her ticket goodbye. and she didn’t feel an ounce of regret because she did warn her. to enjoy it all, her time at the hospital to its fullest, and she meant it. true to her nature, abby prided herself on consistency, even more so in her efficiency, like a stealthy ninja.
in and out, no flaws, no witnesses.
no window for the light to shine through.
THE LIGHT
cascading over your form was from the now straining lamp above. your head ached, overwhelmed by the events of the day. but one interaction stood out as particularly odd— an event you didn't take part in, rather witness instead.
it seemed under every blue moon that cassidy and abby would interact, despite working on the same floor. there were no crossovers, so when a hand broke that line. there was something unsettling about the whole interaction, especially the invader's body language. her movements were mechanical, unnatural even, making it all hard to ignore.
a chill runs down your spine as you consider the implications. you know what you witnessed, but it feels almost unbelievable. just as with notorious serial killers, you struggle to comprehend the thought processes behind such heinous acts. perhaps this lunatic in particular requires her own account to explain her motives and actions.
you arrived at just the right moment, only a few seconds before their conversation ended. fortunately, you had come in time to witness abby casually slipping something into cassidy's bag while she was turning away. the object had a distinct pill bottle shape, subtle enough to avoid attracting unwanted attention, but enough to pique your interest.
the rumors of stolen narcotics had been circulating, and a mysterious culprit was being gossiped about behind closed doors. you and cassidy had spent some time discussing the topic, sharing silly theories, though nothing more than just pure hearsay.
your eyebrows furrow in thought, though it wasn't helping. instead, only intensified the now throbbing headache, slowly morphing into a full-blown migraine. with your hands holding your head up, you look down at long forgotten paperwork that was meant to be done from the comforts of your own home, but considering the distressing state you’re in. it was far from comforting now.
with a frustrated sigh, you flick off the lamp and abandon your paperwork, ready to rise from your desk. suddenly, your phone rings, jolting you with a spike in heart rate. you glance down at the caller ID.
you immediately answer the call, only to be met with cassidy's hysterical voice. through her sobs and gasps, she reveals that she was fired due to stealing narcotics. your worst fears were confirmed; it was no longer just a mere theory. you had indeed witnessed abby slipping something that resembled a small pill bottle into cassidy’s bag.
as you try to console your friend, a whirlwind of emotions begins to roil within you. some of that emotion directed towards yourself, but strongly towards abby. it was true, you saw it with your very own eyes, and yet chose to wait. you hated the fact that it took you so long to come to your senses, and a wave of guilt consumes you for not marching straight to the supervisor moments after witnessing it.
even if it was too late for your friend, it wasn’t for abby.
the lobby, now shrouded in dimmed lighting with very few sources of illumination, seemed like something straight out of a horror movie. paying no mind to the eerie ambiance, you quickly make your way towards abby’s office door, knowing she typically uses this time to prepare the employee’s schedules. the reasoning behind why she does it in her office is unknown, but frankly, not your biggest concern.
your knuckles collide forcefully against the wood, channeling the full extent of your anger’s strength. the door swings open, revealing a slightly taken aback abby. she utters, “what—what are you doing here?” her tone seems somewhat off.
you don’t waste any time, no words, and cut straight to the chase. “what did you do to cassidy?”
she raises an eyebrow in confusion, responding, “what are you talking about? are you on something, y/n?”
without hesitating, you push past her into her office. turning your head at neck breaking speed to set your hardened gaze onto hers. your voice takes on a more firm tone: “am i? are you?!”
you repeat your question with unwavering determination. “what did you do to cassidy?”
with a scoff, she crosses her arms, feigning innocence. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.” she denies.
“oh, don’t play dumb,” you retort, your gaze unwavering. “you know exactly what i’m talking about! tell me, what was it that you threw into her bag?”
she nervously swallows, her composure faltering for just a moment before she regains control. this reaction was all you needed to confirm your suspicions.
"that’s confidential.” she repeats assertively, making her way behind her desk.
"confidential, my ass!" you yell in response. "i know damn well what i saw!"
she stops in her tracks and turns her head to face you, a look of indignation on her face. “what did you just say to me?”
ignoring her interruption, you push on, demanding answers. “what did you do to her? what did you say?!” your fist clenched tightly.
for the first time, she drops her facade, maintaining eye contact without hesitation, as she admits. “i gave her a little parting gift.”
the intensity in her eyes makes your blood run cold, trying to gather a sense of what her cryptic response implies. you stammer. “what—what does that even mean?”
she suddenly realizes the gravity of her confession—how she inadvertently revealed her actions, but anger clouds her morality. "just drop it.” she grits out through clenched teeth, patience wearing thin.
the fire in your eyes flares up, brimming with anger and defiance that refuses to let you back down. "no!" you firmly retort. "you’re going to tell me!" frustration seeps through your voice as your patience wanes. you’re tired of her smug superiority, the audacity to act as if she had everyone under her command.
her lips curl into a smirk, her voice oozing with sarcastic scorn. “oh, i’m gonna tell you?” she taunts, scoffing. “tell you what? about your little friend?” her tone carries undertones of something against your mere friendship with cassidy.
the mention of something more regarding your friend sends a pang of defensiveness coursing through you.
"what?" you breathe out, taken aback. "what does that even mean, huh?"
she takes a step forward, each breath heavy and labored. her voice betrays her impatient nature, a predator preparing to pounce. “oh, you know what that means,” she retorts, scoffing internally at how dull you’re being to an obvious situation. despite the tension in the room reaching a high, it’s abby’s intensity that seizes the moment. you half expected to see her licking her lips with anticipated hunger, like a ravenous beast.
it sends a rush of conflicting emotions coursing through you—an alluring mixture of curiosity and trepidation. the encounter itself feels like a high-stakes game of chess where you struggle to predict your opponent's next move. as you step back, your confidence falters, and your voice softens into a small whimper.
“i don’t...”
abby catches onto this, pouncing on it like a hungry lion sensing weakness, further igniting her motives.
you gasp as your back meets the cool, solid wood behind you. in an instinctive movement, your eyes flick briefly behind you before darting back forward. only to find abby’s overbearing presence suffocating your personal space.
"oh, i think you do." she rasps, tilting her head to the side, a chuckle escaping her lips. her faltering gaze lingering to your lips for a fleeting moment before pulling away. her tone seethes with anger, words biting as she scoffs.
“you think you’re so damn slick, huh?” she paces back and forth, a fierce intensity in her stride, causing you to wince in response.
“you act like i wouldn’t catch on to your little games, as if it wasn’t painfully transparent to everyone around you!” her frustration builds, and she raises her arms, unleashing a frustrated sigh before bringing them down forcefully to slap her thighs. "as if i wouldn’t notice!”
you couldn't understand where this anger was coming from. sure, she had always been an asshole, but lately, her outbursts and irritability have seemed to reach a new assholery. and it seemed to have started around the same time you had become friends with cassidy. It was almost as if your newfound friendship had awakened something within her, something darker and more volatile. perhaps jealousy?
abby’s anger blazes brightly in her eyes, her words sharp. "god, you’re infuriating," she says, her voice laced with hostility. "like some fucking prodigy, you think you know everything, don’t you?!" she emphasizes with lurching her body forward, her hands slamming down on the desk either side of you, effectively trapping you in place.
your breath hitches as she draws nearer, her proximity sending an intoxicating wave throughout your body. the intensity of her anger is palpable, every labored breath brushing against your skin like a gentle caress. her lips are tantalizingly close to yours, separated by an annoying invisible barrier that could be shattered at any moment if she so desired. just one push.
"fuck you, abby!" you hiss, your voice faltering for a moment before hardening. "you always had a goddamn bone to pick with me, you piece of shit!" your words linger in the air, carrying years of built-up resentment directed at abby. but the shock of her unexpected confession wipes away your outrage, replacing it with astonishment.
"because i love you!" she yells, her voice ringing out louder than intended. her revelation hangs in the air, rendering you speechless. as those words sink in, your breath catches in your throat. "what?" you manage to croak out, hardly believing what you've just heard.
you observed a flicker of vulnerability in her expression that's quickly replaced by a hardened composure. there was no turning back, the cat was out of the bag, and so she only pressed forward with determination.
her voice descending to a low, sultry tone, she says "you think watching what's mine prancing around like a slut at her own workplace doesn't make me livid?" each word drips with possessive anger and suppressed desire.
your voice comes out smaller and fragile than anticipated as you muster the words, "i’m… i’m not yours." you struggle to meet abby's intense gaze, your body tensing subconsciously as you push yourself against her desk, attempting to create some space between the two of you. the air is thick with tension, the room practically vibrating with the weight of abby’s confession and your denial. you felt trapped, your body practically molding into the desk behind you.
"do you believe that?" she inquires, raising a brow in challenge. she lifts a thumb to slide across your bottom lip, her touch firm yet almost teasing. she pauses for a moment before letting out a gravelly chuckle, further probing into the tension. “i don’t.” she admits with a light shrug. her movements felt taunting, yet calculated as if she’s trying to catch you in a lie, and to fess up.
abby was frustrated, bordering on infuriated, trying to make sense of the situation. her mind was a tangle of emotions, and she felt like she was grasping at straws, trying to connect the pieces in her head. she had the mental board laid out in her mind, each string connecting to a different thought, all pointing to one central question: you and cassidy, and the enigma of your poorly hidden relationship. this uncertainty fueled her anger, and you weren’t making it any better. she wanted to do something— anything— to show you that you weren't just anyone's; you were hers.
"what about alexa, huh?" you ask, gaining a peak of confidence, your words snapping her attention back.
“what about her?” she questions truthfully, amused by your presumed jealousy. “you jealous?"
caught off guard and exposed, you feel the equilibrium shift, upending the chess pieces in your mind. "i’m not jealous," you insist, realizing the power her words hold. it’s as if she has cornered you in this game, check. mate.
“oh, sure you aren’t." abby steps closer, her body pressing against yours, trapping you between her and the desk. her words take on a dual edge of ire and yearning as she smirks. "i should’ve known with the way you’ve been acting, you’re practically begging me to put you in your place.” she murmurs, chuckling gravely. "to fuck you until you can only say yes, doctor anderson." she feigns a high pitch moany tone, a lewd and terrible, yet obvious admit of sounding like you as she says “yes, doctor anderson.”
she laughs before humming, seeming to enjoy that fantasy as she lets herself become lost in the idea for a moment before continuing.
abby’s features lean in closer, the heat from her breath caressing the apple of your cheek as she murmurs against your ear, “tell me, do you let cassidy make you her personal pocket pussy?” her words send a shiver down your spine as her hand moves to caress your cheek, pausing to let you feel the weight of her question in the air before inquiring further, “to bend you over anywhere, anytime, and you’ll just take it like a good girl?” her words laced with a lewdness that sends a thrill through your body, despite the fact that you know you should reject the notion. the question itself was filthy, taboo, and utterly intoxicating. but you couldn’t deny the existence of being drawn to it, deep down knowing more than ever if you ever were to think of that fantasy, you’d want it to be her, not cassidy.
“no, no, it’s not like that.” you attempt to defend yourself, trying to find the right words, but abby interjects before you can say anything else. she scoffs at your attempted denial, her grip on you tightening, causing you to wince. her voice lowers into a dark laugh, her disbelief evident. "oh really? you really expect me to believe that bullshit?"
her name escapes your lips in a gasp, but abby cuts you off yet again, her eyes darkening as she speaks.
"lemme tell you what it's like," she begins, her tone husky. “i think you'd like it. hell, you pray that it does happen because you're nothing but just a pathetic girl who wants some attention. is that what you want? attention?" abby inquires, licking her teeth in an almost predatory manner. your heart races in your chest as her words cut through you.
the tension in the room is palpable, thick with unexpressed desire and emotion. you find yourself unable to hold back any longer, your voice quivering as you voice your deep-seated need. “i want your attention," you confess, your words almost inaudible, they're so faint.
even if faint, she heard all of it, dissected each syllable. it’s all she ever wanted, no, needed to hear from you. “yeah?” her voice falters into a soft whimper, tilting her head to the side and grabbing your cheeks with her large hands, only now focusing on your lips. “i’ll give you all my attention.” she promises, swiftly pulling your face, smashing yours onto hers.
your body trembled from the conflicting sensations, a clash of cold and hot, a maelstrom of warring emotions. years without her touch had left you craving her embrace, and her lips on yours sent heat coursing through your veins. though the kiss stood unspoken, there was no need for actions that spoke louder. both hatred and desire intertwined, two sides of the same coin, fueling this volatile gesture. your hands roamed her body, exploring every curve and contour, as hers did the same, desperately pulling you closer, kneading your flesh like clay. your hands finally found a resting place on her shoulders, gripping her like a lifeline in the storm of sensations swirling around you.
your movements, your gasps and sighs, fueled the fire within abby, and with a determined strength, she hoists you up onto her desk. the sudden change in position elicits gasp from you, pressing your body against hers with an arch, and abby seizes the moment, slipping her tongue past your lips, exploring your mouth with a fervent passion. it was a dance both familiar and new, a moment of fiery connection that consumed you both.
her breath ragged, lips tingling from the passion of the kiss as stares down at you, her eyes dark and filled with hunger as she murmurs her confession. "i've always dreamt of this… having you," her fingers roaming over your body slowly as she says this, relishing in the way you react to her touch. she presses her forehead shading yours, her dilated eyes reflecting the depth of her desire. her cold thumbs find their way underneath your clothes, tracing slow circles, sending a shiver through your body. "having this feeling of your skin under my fingertips."
your voice quivered as you call her name, and for a moment you think your plea to have her lips on yours again are answered, but instead, she finds her new focus, your neck. her lips fall, leaving a trail of kisses and love bites. the sound of your whimpers only spurred her on, her hands gripping your hips possessively as she continued to mark your skin, leaving a trail of hickeys.
abby was in her element now, and your desperate tone only fed her desire. she wanted more, to hear you call her name even more. with a smirk, she lifted her head, eyes burning with amusement. "yeah? you like the sound of that, pretty girl?" she muses, her hand suddenly landing a sharp smack on your thigh, making you jump. in response, she chuckled at your reaction, her laugh sent tingles down your spine, a mixture of amusement and desire. her grip on your thighs tightened, pushing them higher up, and drinking up the sight of you, spread before her with your feet on the desk sent abby's desire spiraling out of control. she couldn't help but lick her lips, taking in the full view of your flushed skin and parted legs. you couldn't hold back a squirm, feeling so exposed— though you weren’t — under her intense gaze.
"i love seeing you like this," she murmured, her voice thick with arousal. she steps towards you again, nestling herself in the newfound space. her lips return to your neck, greeting the previous bruises plastered on your neck with soft licks and kisses. "so desperate and needy."
her hands leave your thighs as she lifts herself up to meet your gaze, taking in your already disheveled state. with a hum of satisfaction, she asks, "who gets you like this?"
you manage to respond with a barely audible, "you, abby." she hums at your whimperish respond, a smirk crossing her lips at the confirmation, "yes, not that bitch, cassidy. me. and only me, right, baby?" she gives a slight nod, as if she’s responding for you.
the blonde brings her hand up to your lips, watching as you open your mouth to invite her thumb, which she eagerly accepts.
she let out a low, guttural groan as you suck and lick her pad of her thumb, enjoying the sensations that your mouth causes. she couldn't resist the urge to voice her thoughts, her words thick with possession and desire.
"hm, such a dirty girl." she paused for a moment, taking in the sight of you, before amending her statement with a husky tone, "my dirty girl."
you release her thumb with a pop, humming a tone of satisfaction, and licking your lips to savor the lingering taste of her. a chuckle escapes abby's lips as she watches you, her eyes roaming your body yet again. the desire to rip your clothes off and shut you up has been building since the moment you walked into her office, "take this off, baby. you’re killing me with not showing me what's mine," she growls, her words tinged with need and possess. "need to see it, feel it. need." she mumbled against your skin, completely submitted to her delusions. you don’t fight this time, barely able to remove each article of clothing with abby eagerly kissing and licking every available inch of skin. but stops at your bikini line, encountering a setback— your underwear — cockblocking her.
her eyebrows furrowed in disbelief, looking up at you with an almost comical expression of frustration, and offense. as if being unable to take off your underwear because of her was a you problem. “funny.” she retorts, tone dripping in sarcasm, but nothing on her face shows amusement. “real fucking funny.” she remarks, punctuating her words with a sharp smack to your hip, kneading at the red skin roughly, making you wince. “you fucking tease.” she continues, her voice laced with a mix of desire and irritation.
"i should punish you for that little stunt," her fingers hooking into the waistband of your underwear, intending to pull them down herself since you’re incompetent to do so. “but, fuck, look at all this.” she relents, sliding them off your legs— and pocketing them for later — to reveal your core, practically weeping for her. “all this f’me?” she pants, eyes flicking up to yours.
a whiny moan of her name slips past your lips, but she shushes you gently, her voice softer now. "i know, baby, i know." she cooed, her large hand running comfortingly up and down your side. as she spreads your quivering legs further, exposing your drenched folds, abby feasts her eyes upon the sight before her. her lips curve upward, "fuck," she breathed, her eyes never leaving your pulsing core. “look at this pretty pussy. this is prettiest pussy i’ve ever seen—this has to be mine.” she leans down, her warm breath ghosting over your clit before she pressing a tender kiss there, savoring your reaction to her smallest touch, and now wondering what other reactions she could get out of you.
you weren't prepared for what came next, not one bit. expecting her to take things slow, you were completely caught off guard as abby gripped your thighs and, in one swift motion, separated your slimy folds, lapping any sweet nectar waiting for her. you tense from sudden sensation, letting out a loud, unapologetic moan as you arch off the desk. your hands instinctively tangle themselves into her steady braid that soon unravels from being used as reins.
encouraged by your fervent response, abby delved deeper, her skilled tongue tracing a path to your engorged nub. enclosing it between her lips, she whispered her praise, "you taste better than i thought." her voice trembled, mingling with your own moans.
as her teeth gently nipped at your sensitive bundle, you cried out, your thighs involuntarily squeezing her shoulders. a wicked smirk graced her lips as she basked in your reaction, taking immense pleasure in your submission.
the unexpected pinch sent jolts of shock through your body, your limbs twitching and writhing in a frenzied dance. in response, abby repositions her left hand on your abdomen, gripping tightly to anchor you in place. each sound that escaped your trembling lips fueled her hunger, her throaty hums resonating against your flesh. with a devilish gleam in her eyes, she teasingly traced circles near your navel with her thumb, heightening your anticipation.
a groan rumbled in her throat when your fingers gripped her hair, the sensation only spurring her on. her mouth fastened more insistently around your swollen nub, sucking harder as you cried out her name. the strain in your voice confirmed her suspicions: you were on the cusp of your release, and she was eager to push you over.
abby's fingers joined the fray, sliding in and out of your slick folds with practiced ease. her relentless assault on your clit continued, her touch sending shivers through your body and causing your breaths to come in ragged gasps. the sight of you, quivering and exposed before her, stoked a fire within her, a determination to send you flying over the edge.
abby derived an addiction from your pleasure. each moment of ecstasy seemed to fuel her further, driving her to amplify the tempo and depth of her ministrations. as the room filled with the lewd symphony of flesh meeting flesh and intertwined heavy breaths, something stirred within abby. something unfamiliar, uncharted. normally, she would exhibit unrivaled confidence during intimate encounters, but with you, it was different—more intense, deeper. a desperate craving to be perfect, to ensure you'd never seek anyone else but her. she’d hate to admit it, but the realization gnaws at her: the longing for you even after this is over.
"who's making you cum tonight?" abby questioned the obvious once more, but her arrogance tone underlined the strong need for reassurance. your moans were her only response, and while she adored the sweet sounds, she craved more. a sudden shift in her fingers’ movements made you yell out, "you, abby," your words punctuated by cries of pleasure.
her fingers, now confined within your tight grip, sensed the growing tension, the impending eruption, the imminent of your orgasm. "uh-huh, come for me," she ordered, "let me hear who’s making a mess of you."
the warnings of your impending release came with fervor, each thrust hastening to the inevitable snap of the tightening band in your abdomen. then when it did, a cry rang out, loud and clear, as her name left your lips in tandem with your essence painting her features. in this haze of euphoria, you suddenly find a sense of clarity, wondering how in all worlds did you end up in this situation, in the arms— or rather the mouth of your boss?
it’s rather short lived, quickly fading into a hazy blur. you threw your head back as her eyes closed, savoring the taste of your ecstasy with a hum, helping you through your orgasm until your body laxs.
withdrawing her fingers, abby admired the sight of your juices clinging to them, a testament to her efforts. a satisfied smile stretches across her face as she reveled in the knowledge that she had brought you to such heights.
she licks them clean, feeling a rush of gratification that only you can provide. releasing her fingers with a soft pop, her lips make way and pave along the curve of your hip, leaving a trail of wet, sticky kisses behind as she moves up to stand before you. “such a good girl..” she mumbled against your skin. you lift yourself up with your elbow, taking a moment to catch your breath, your body still quivering from the intensity of your orgasm that has left you momentarily speechless. you couldn't help, but notice abby’s disheveled appearance as well. untangled, her hair strays from its famed braid, now flowing around her face like a cascade of waves.
but before you could comment on the sight, she claims your lips in a tender, sweet kiss, her hands cupping your face. the connection was brief, and when she pulled away, a grin lit up her features. without another word spoken, she unclothes herself, revealing herself in all her glory. you knew she worked out, but goddamn, did she work out! the determination to achieve the physique showed immensely. in your admiration, you felt the apple of your cheeks warm up, causing you to look away.
"don’t go shy on me, babe," she chided playfully, repositioning your face to meet hers. she seals the deal with another kiss pushing you down gently onto the desk. "lay back f’me, ‘kay?"
with a nod, you comply, watching as the corded muscles in her arms flex as she moves into position, lifting your leg. a grin tugged at the corners of your lips as she placed a tender kiss on your ankle, making her soft chuckle fill the air in return before she securely set your leg on her shoulder.
the moment your wet folds connected, a guttural moan escaped her lips. the sensation was everything she craved, wasting no time in starting a vigorous grinding motion. as she ruts back and forth, she can’t help but mutter curses under her breath, lost in her own pleasure. "fuck, baby, you feel so fucking good." she hisses, throwing her head back. the raw intensity of her emotions written clear as day on her features.
her concentration nearly falters when she glances down, and the sight that met her eyes threatened to make her cum on the spot. the image of your hair spread out across the desk, your bouncing breasts with every upthrust combined with the feeling of your warmth against hers drove her to near insanity.
abby swore she had to be on the edge of a near-death experience, or some type of dejà vu as she gazed upon you in awe, swearing that you resembled a goddess straight out of a mythology book she had once read. though the memory of the goddess’s name was just out of reach, abby couldn't shake the feeling that she had personally seen a painting she once visited come to life in front of her very own eyes.
your hair, freed from its usual up do, was now cascading around your head and spilling off the edge of the desk like an ebony waterfall. your body, unrestrained, was a breathtaking display of femininity. each heaving breath caused your breasts to sway gently, your nipples hardened in anticipation. the way your skin glistened with a thin film of sweat only added to the captivating tableau.
in that moment, abby could almost imagine you as a divine muse from an ancient myth, a vision of beauty and desire. if she didn't snap herself back to reality, the mere sight might have been enough to send her hurtling toward an orgasm. but she had other plans, and she was determined to make them happen.
without warning, abby leaned down, her left hand resting beside your head to brace herself. as her mouth wrapped over one of your taut nipples, her tongue danced over the sensitive bud. simultaneously, her free hand kneaded your other breast, eliciting a sharp gasp from you. your hips bucked involuntarily, meeting her thrusts, and for a moment, it stuttered her pace, a low moan escaping her lips.
"fuck—baby, don't—don't do that," she pleads, filthy groans slipping pass her lips as her hand slides down to your hip, holding you firmly in place as her engorged clit pulsated with building intensity. she was determined to make you cum before she did.
your whispered invocation of her name caused her to glance up at your flushed, disheveled appearance. the sight was a temptation she couldn't resist, and crashed her lips against yours, the feverish kiss mirroring the urgency of your coupling. the closeness and ferocity of both embraces unconsciously synced your movements, hips rocking in unison.
"fuck! abby, i’m gonna cum, please!" your gasps grew heavier and staccato, your forehead pressing against hers as her pace quickened, breaths entwining. normally, abby would step in and reprimand her employees for behaving too freely when seemingly having too much fun. however, in this moment, she actively encourages it, the atmosphere brimming with an intense hunger for it.
"i know, baby, i know." abby's hand found your cheek, stroking it soothingly as if trying to appease your mind to allow what’s inevitable. "cum for me—cum with me," she pants, her pace faltering as she reached her zenith. her arms enveloped you, her hair acting as a curtain around the two of you. guiding you through your release, the slick of your shared pleasure coated your entwined bodies.
once over, abby’s rhythm ceased, and she collapsed on top of you, utterly spent. the weight of the night's passionate encounters bore down, leaving the two of you entwined in the afterglow.
in the act of catching your breaths, it gave abby post-nut clarity. her cheeks reddened, overwhelmed with shame for her past behavior, guilt gnawing at her insides as she realized how much of an ass she had been. it makes her get up, promptly making you sit up, confused.
with a shaky breath, she pushed her hair behind her ear, an expression that was nothing like her usual confident self. "look," she began hesitantly, her voice strained as she struggled to find the right words. unable to meet your gaze, she continued, "i’m sorry for everything. i've been having these feelings, feelings i-i don't even know how to process about you, but i... just wanted to say that i'm sorry for being such an asshole. it was pathetic."
finally, she looked at you, her lips laced in a pout. her confession took you by surprise, leaving you speechless. it was a side of abby you never saw, apologetic.
“asshole is an understatement.” you finally say, laughing softly, an attempt to alleviate the tension in the air, yet it brought no amusement to the receiver. with a quick gulp to clear your throat, you question, “what kind of feelings?” tilting your head to one side.
abby's mouth forms into a tight smile at your lighthearted comment. "they're romantic feelings," she confessed, taking a step forward. she knew the likelihood of your response, but nonetheless continued. "i wasn't lying when i said 'i love you��… but if you don't—" she let out a shaky exhale, the next words stinging. "I'll understand."
unable to suppress an oncoming smile, you take the sight of the usually tough-as-nails abby anderson, now a softie. taking for a moment before responding with a soft voice that leaves abby confused, "you look pretty like this.”
"what?"
"yeah, you should wear your hair down when we go on a date."
PERMANENT TAGLIST, @dyk3ang3l, @elliesprettygirl, @les4elliewilliams, @r3starttt, @slut4mascss, @marsworlddd, @bready101, @abbysleftbicepp, @airenaa, @caraphernellie, @astralnymphh, @whore87, @kaiilectric, @sapphicontherun, @mikellie, @nihilisticangelbby, @be3flow3r, @ppuussyyy, @clairoscharm, @lvlymicha, @brackishkittie, @loveyru
ONESHOT TAGLIST, @st4r-b3rries, @h0pe-scotch, @grey-jedi12, @lucidfairies, @luvmily, @sarahduke, @sc0ttstre3ted, @lonelyfooryouonly, @4pascal, @rew1nds, @viswifetotallyreal, @giuliaexe66, @andersonfilms, @ankle-biter69, @ellieslovr, @wakeupitsdawn, @lavdia17, @donalesaa, @xayn-xd, @brunaedn, @fatamoangana, @drunkonnatasha, @freesmbdy134, @sincerely-forest, @mytwoseater, @starrywilliams, @pinkygirliee
#abby anderson oneshot#abby anderson#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson x female reader#abby anderson x f!reader#abby anderson x smut reader#abby anderson x reader smut#abby anderson x yn#abby anderson x y/n#abby anderson x you#abby anderson x black reader#abby anderson x chubby reader#abby anderson fanfiction#abby anderson fanfic#abby anderson imagine#abby anderson smut#abby anderson fluff#abby anderson angst#abby anderson tlou2#the last of us abby#abby x reader smut#abby x you#abby x reader#abby x fem!reader#abby x masc!reader#abby fanfiction#tlou fanfiction#the last of us#lesbian#wlw
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Eek I’m the one that asked about requests, so excited you’re taking them!
My idea was fem!reader x whichever marauder you want (not Pete sorry not sorry) where the reader is flirty but not in a hitting on everyone and pickup lines type of way. It’s in a she’s very friendly, likes to give out compliments just cause she wanted to, and is just warm and open to people type of way.
Ngl im a sucker for some angst with a happy ending so if that somehow works with whatever idea you come up with that would be cool but no pressure!
I hope this sounds like something you’d wnjiy writing but again no pressure at all<3
I hope this has that kind of vibe you were going for! Thank you for being my first request - I'm very excited and very nervous for this. ♡
Sunshine Incarnate
Remus Lupin x fem!reader
1.8k words
cw: fluff, angst
“God, she’s such a fucking tease,” Sirius sighs, leaning back in a plush armchair in the library.
“Who is?” Remus asks, not looking up from his book.
“Her,” he answers, gesturing toward you. “Little Miss Sunshine herself.”
Remus’ gaze shoots up, first looking at Sirius and then at you. You were talking with some Ravenclaw boy, absorbed in the conversation and oblivious to the rest of the library.
“A tease?” Remus asks.
Sirius hums. “Whenever you talk to her, she gives you these eyes. Then she’ll give you some flirty comment and walk away. Fucking. Tease.”
“Don’t talk about her that way,” Remus growls, still not looking away from you.
“Remus, you’ve experienced what he’s talking about though, right?” Peter asks. “She sits next to you in Herbology.”
Remus has experienced the eyes that Sirius is describing. When you talked to someone, they had your entire attention. You were fully engaged. He’d also been on the receiving end of your compliments before as well; he replayed them in his head when he was feeling low. But Remus would be an idiot to ignore that you did this with everyone.
“Oh my god, I love your hair like that!”
“That’s brilliant! You’re a genius.”
“I haven’t read that book before. Is it any good?” “Yeah, It’s my favorite.” “Yeah? Tell me about it.”
It’s who you are. As Sirius had called you, you are Little Miss Sunshine. You brightened every room you entered and made everyone feel important. Remus didn’t think there was a single person in all of Hogwarts who didn’t like you. How could they?
“Remus?” Peter repeats, tossing a crumpled piece of parchment at him.
“Huh? What?”
“Wormy asked you about Sunshine’s eyes and you zoned,” James says. He’s busy working on an essay that the rest of the group had already finished.
“Of course. Yes. Although I think it’s called active listening,” Remus says, sounding more irritated than he intended. “Something you could work on,” he adds on in a grumble.
“My ears work just fine, thank you very much,” Sirius says.
Then his face lights up and he waves at you. You had briefly turned away from the Ravenclaw boy and Sirius’ wave caught your eye. You wave back, excuse yourself and make your way to the Gryffindors.
“Hi!” you say cheerfully. “Remus, that sweater looks really soft.”
His face flushed at your words. He could barely mutter out a thanks.
“What’re you working on?” you ask, standing next to Remus. You’re looking at the pages of the book he’s reading, hoping to see a title at the top of the pages but there’s nothing to go off of, not even a diagram to say if it was a Herbology or Charms book.
“That damned Potions essay,” James answers.
“Good thing you’re not too shabby in that class then,” you say with a smile. “Can’t be too difficult.”
James looks up from his essay to return your smile. “It’s not. Just annoying to do.”
“Annoying to do is my Divination dream journal!” you reply with a giggle. “Like I need a teacher knowing what happens in my subconscious.”
“I’d like to know what happens in your subconscious,” Sirius says, now leaning forward.
You give him an eye roll. “Become a Divination tutor and maybe. Remus, did you do that Herbology worksheet yet?”
“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I did. Yesterday.”
“Shoot, I was hoping we could work on it together. You’re so much better at Herbology than I am.”
“Oh, it’s not too difficult,” he says, briefly looking up from his book to give you a smile.
You’re already looking at him with those eyes and a smile. Butterflies take flight in his stomach. He has to look away quickly, despite not wanting to.
“Okay,” you say, bouncing on your toes. “I’ll see you later.”
As you walk away, Peter hits Remus with a roll of parchment.
“Are you daft?” he whispers, unsure if you’re out of earshot yet. “She was flirting with you.”
He shakes his head. “No, she wasn’t.”
“She wanted to work on Herbology homework with you.”
“Because we share the class? And I’m smart?”
“You’re daft,” James confirms.
The rest of the afternoon and into the evening, Remus is replaying the conversation. Had you been flirting with him? Actually flirting or being your kind self? Even if you were flirting with him, you’d certainly stop as soon as you found out that he was a werewolf. Sunshine incarnate could not be with someone who turns with the moon. He was Moony for goodness sake. But she had complimented both his sweater and Herbology skills in one conversation with only James also receiving a compliment. How had he earned two compliments over Sirius? With all of your kindness and Sirius’ natural charisma, you two usually bantered like an entertaining yet sickening tennis match.
“You know, the things I would do to her if she said the word,” Sirius says, bringing Remus out of his thoughts.
“Still on about Sunshine, are you?” James asks.
“Still on about Evans?” Sirius retorts.
“Would it kill you to shut up and stay away from her?” Remus snaps.
Sirius and James shoot him a confused look. He had been mostly quiet since leaving the library, but it was Remus. He just did that sometimes.
“Stay away from her?” Sirius repeats. “From Madam Sunshine herself? Why would I do that?”
“She’s the sweetest,” James adds with a smirk.
“Yeah, I know,” Remus grumbles. “She doesn’t need you assholes to bring her down.”
“I’m not bringing her down,” James says defensively.
“Just leave her out of your… fantasies.”
“Why?” Sirius presses.
“Just, it’s… it’s you,” Remus says, gesturing wildly.
“Yeah, and?” Sirius asks, leaning forward toward Remus with narrowing eyes.
“You’re messy.” Remus pauses. “We’re messy.”
“So we’re all staying away from her?” Peter asks.
“I, uh, I guess so.”
Remus couldn’t tell his three closest friends to stay away from her because they were messy and not include himself, possibly the messiest of the group. But, god, he wanted to be close to you. He wanted to hold you and be held by you. He wanted to kiss your perfect smile that was ever present on your perfect lips. He wanted to be the reason your gorgeous eyes lit up. He wanted you to look for him in the room. He wanted you to be his sunshine.
Sirius shares a knowing look with James and Peter that Remus misses. Though he had tried to be subtle, his friends know when Remus is down bad, and he is for you.
---
In Remus’ presence, you’re no longer a topic of discussion. The boys successfully steer all conversations away from you. Remus doesn’t think anything of it, assuming they actually listened to him and are staying away from you and all your perfectness.
That is, until you walk over and sit next to Remus at lunch. You set your books down gently and give the boys a smile.
“That’s our cue to leave. See you in Dark Arts, Moony,” Sirius says with a grin. James and Peter follow him away from the table, leaving you alone with him.
“That was… weird,” Remus mumbles, watching them leave before turning his attention back to you.
He tries to hide the confusion on his face, but you see it anyway.
“Did you not… did you not ask me to practice nonverbal spells with you?”
Remus stares at you blankly. “No?”
You pull out a piece of parchment and hand it to him.
“I got this at breakfast.”
It was a note, in Sirius’ handwriting no less, asking you to meet at lunch to practice spells. When he looks up from the note, you are biting your lip with a hopeful look on your face.
“Even if it’s not from you, would you mind practicing? I’m rubbish at them and, well, you’re great at everything.”
Remus feels his face heat at the compliment.
“You’re not rubbish at them.”
“No, I really am! I try them all the time and they never work! I’ve tried to levitate notes to you in Transfiguration and the stupid notes never lift more than a centimeter off the desk!” you ramble.
“Notes… to me?”
It’s your turn to blush. You had never successfully passed a note to him. The notes that never made it to him often had compliments on them; the most recent had been to ask him to Hogsmeade. But when you continuous failed to get them to him, you had taken that as a sign from the universe that it wasn’t meant to be, but you weren’t one to give up easily. Maybe you were misreading the signs and you needed to go to him for help. So when you received the note from fake Remus, you were over the moon.
“Oh, yeah. Just little comments about lessons. Nothing too important,” you lie.
“You were trying to give me notes…” Remus mutters, still in disbelief that you were writing notes to him in the first place, even if they were ‘little comments.’
“Yes?”
You’re not sure what gives you the boldness, but you dig through your bag again and pull out some of the notes. You’re not sure why you kept them, but you did.
“Okay, little comments, yes. About the lessons, not really.”
You hold out one for him to take.
You mastered teacup to gerbil quickly. You’re amazing!
“That, uh, that should be the first one.”
His hands are shaking as he reads it over and over.
“You kept them?”
You nod, a little unsure. He reaches out and takes the rest from your hands. You feel your blush grow as he reads each other. It’s only a slight comfort that his blush is also increasing with each note.
He looks up at you with a curious expression that’s topped with hopeful eyes.
“You were going to ask me to Hogsmeade?”
You open your mouth to speak but words don’t come out. You nod.
“If the offer still stands, I’d, uh, I’d love you. I’d love to. Ahem. I’d love to go to Hogsmeade with you.”
You’re certain your face is as red as his.
“This weekend then?”
“Yeah,” he breathes.
You lean in and kiss his cheek, your own boldness surprising you yet again.
“We can, erm, work on nonverbals later. I’ll see you later, Remus.”
He watches you leave the Great Hall in a hurry. His hand slowly comes up to touch the spot where you had kissed him. Maybe, just maybe, you had been flirting with him.
---
“How did that go, Moony?”
“You are bastards. All of you.”
“How did it go?”
“She kissed me,” he says, still blushing furiously.
“I told you!” Sirius cheers. “I told you he was projecting.”
“Projecting?”
“Mate, you called us messy. I mean, yeah, we are, but it’s your tell.”
#marauders fic#marauders#remus lupin fic#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin x you#remus lupin x reader#requests#marauder-misprint
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“I’m basically a big butch lesbian. I hosted lesbian parties for ten years. And let me tell you, they adore me. A lot of my closest friends are big butch lesbians. Certainly my best bodybuilding partners: amazing, aggressive, powerful women. Very dominant over the males in the gym. Not dominant over me, of course. Unless they’re busting my balls, because strong women are ball busters. They're just like the dudes. They are the dudes. They just happen to be dudes that are dudettes. They understand both sides of the fence; which is why we get along so well. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still friends with a lot of ‘dude’ dudes. But a lot of guys are just too rough around the edges when it comes to women. I don’t want any part of it. I find it grotesque. One term I’ve been hearing these last couple years is ‘body count.’ I’ve heard men say: ‘What’s her body count?’ They’re referring to the amount of people a woman has been with. What a pathetic, disgusting, wormy question. How dare you? This is an independent soul. This is a human that needs to be treated with honor and respect. This isn’t some piece of property you can put in a box. Imagine thinking someone is not worthy of you because they were a little experimental when they were younger, or even when they were older. That’s their choice. Leave them alone. A woman can be with whoever she wants, whenever she wants, however she wants. If you ask me, it all comes down to insecurity. A lot of men think: ‘If she’s had a lot of lovers, there will definitely have been somebody better than me.’ They feel threatened, and they try to make that the woman’s problem. What a sad way of viewing things. No matter how many lovers a person has had, they’ll have never been with another you. Every person comes to the table with what they bring to the table. All of us are exactly what we are, different. And that what makes us all so special.”
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“Open your eyes and look at what you did.”
Lena was tired. Fixing the world was heavy work, especially when it involved cracking the secrets of the ultimate weapon of a dead empire. Myriad was tucked away safely in her lab behind shielding and laser grids and the most advanced security systems in the world, but was most of all protected by Kara’s reputation. Supergirl couldn’t just smash her way into a building and steal something, especially not now, with so much public scrutiny against her.
Lena was expecting a night at home. Not to relax -she hasn’t relaxed until her brother’s wormy lips, turning blue in death, spilled those four little words and cracked her heart in half, broke it into so many pieces that all the king’s horses and all the king’s men and not even Supergirl could put it together again. What was left of her capacity for that kind of love was gone now. Lex had started the process of ripping it out.
Lena has finished it, casting the bloody shreds on the icy floor of a mausoleum in the arctic, not turning back even once to see.
She knew the DEO was watching her every move, waiting for her to make a mistake that she could seize on. She knew they were itching to take her out. Kara would probably lead the charge herself. She’d crow about how she didn’t want to do this and didn’t want to hurt Lena and then she’d perp walk her like a villain of the week.
It wasn’t remorse that swirled in her stomach. It wasn’t regret that iced her veins. It wasn’t sorrow that made her eyes burn, and it wasn’t doubt that made the clicks of her heels echo in her empty lifeless penthouse.
She did not feel any of those things. Soon, no one ever would again. A world without lies, without strife, without pain. Those twisting, burning emotions would be gone. For everyone.
For her.
Lena froze when she heard the soft click of a hammer being thumbed back on a pistol.
“Turn around.”
Lena tensed. Alex. She should have expected this- Alex didn’t care about the rules when it came to her sister.
Slowly, Lena turned. Alex was right behind her, gun in one hand, phone in the other. She started to play a video on the screen. Lena recognized it at once as the Fortress of Solitude.
“Why?” Alex choked out. “Why did it have to be you?”
Lena pressed her eyes shut, scrambling for something to say. There was a real chance that this confrontation ended with her in a pool of blood on the floor.
“Open your eyes, you bitch! Open your eyes and look at what you did!”
Lena opened them and was confronted with what she had refused to see before, what she had turned from before portalling out. Like a biblical prophet she knew that if she but turned back for a last look she’d have been undone.
Alex recorded Kara locked in the cage as she approached, calling her sister’s name. Kara didn’t respond. She simply lay curled on the floor, faint green scratches scored in her exposed skin. As Alex drew nearer, Lena could hear Kara making a peculiar sound- a rhythmic, trilling thrum, a deep basso rumble as if she were… purring.
And sobbing.
Lena tried to look away but Alex’s expression tightened. Lena forced herself to stare into the screen- the picture blurred as Alex must have been fumbling with the Kryptonian controls. Finally, the crystal cage retracted.
“Kara,” Alex was saying. “Kara, oh my god, where’s Lena? Is she alright?”
Lena flinched. Alex’s jaw tightened as their eye briefly met.
Kara’s face was a mask of pain and grief, clouded with an agony deeper than any physical hurt.
“It was Lena.”
“What?”
“It was Lena. She took Myriad from the armory and she… she was so mad, Alex. It was like she h-hated me. She was lying the whole time after I told her who I was, she already knew and she was so mad. Alex I think she hates me now.”
Kara began to sob and make that damned purring sound at the same time.
“Don’t hurt her,” Kara whimpered, “don’t hurt her, Alex. She’s good, I promise she’s good she just needs our help.”
Alex turned off the video and pressed the muzzle of her gun to Lena’s forehead.
Lena closed her eyes.
“I have every reason to,” Alex began.
“Do it,” Lena hissed. “It’s what we both want, just fucking do it. She’ll get over it.”
“No,” Alex choked out, her voice drowning in emotion. “No she won’t, ever. She has an eidetic memory. If I blow your fucking head off like I should, her last memory of you will be that, what you did to her in her most sacred place, forever.”
“Good,” Lena snapped, opening her eyes. “Good. Then she’ll know how I feel.”
“Yeah? How’s that?”
“Like she tore my heart out. I believed in her. I gave myself to her in a way I never have for anyone else. I let her in after I swore on my mother’s grave I’d never let anyone else hurt me like… like someone else did. She hammered her way into my life with her kindness and her concern and her comfort and it was all a FUCKING LIE, Alex!”
Lena sucked in a hitching breath and went on, forcing herself to go on as she blinked to force the tears from her eyes.
“It was all a lie. I’m just a Luthor to her, to you, to all of you. I sat in that apartment on game nights and movie nights and you all knew. You all knew, and you mocked me. So many cryptic comments and weird little jokes and now I know why. I let myself believe it. I let myself believe she wanted me. She kept trying to tell me something over and over and she kept backing away from it and…”
Lena froze.
The gun fell away, and Alex just stared at her.
“Oh my God. Oh my fucking God,” Alex gasped.
“No,” Lena protested, “no it’s not that!”
“You’re in love with her, aren’t you? Holy fuck, how did I not see this before? You bought a billion dollar publishing company on a whim for her. The flowers, the way you looked at me before she told you I’m her sister. Jesus. Jesus Christ, Lena. You God damn drama queen.”
“I’m a drama queen? You pointed a gun at my head!”
Alex racked the slide back, and turned the weapon so Lena could see the follower of the empty magazine had locked it open. It was unloaded.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Lena screeched.
“I came here to tell you to give me Myriad back and stay the hell away from my sister,” said Alex.
“You pointed a real gun at my head! I don’t care if it was unloaded, the first rule of gun safety is…”
“You thought it was something else,” said Alex.
“God damn it,” Lena began, but Alex cut her off.
“You thought she was working up to tell you something else. You thought she was going to confess her love, didn’t you?”
Lena went completely still.
She had know it, of course. She had known it the way that she knew the sun would rise in the east and set in the west, the way way she knew the stars would shine and the tide would beat against the shore. She had known it in the hollows of her bones, in places she forgot she could feel.
She had not known she knew it.
Lex’s words buffeted her from memory and she felt a knew shattering, even deeper this time.
“I fucked up,” someone said, only it was Lena, her own voice echoing from somewhere far distant. She was only dimly aware of the painful jolt in her tailbone as she slid down the cabinet behind her and her ass landed on the hardwood floor.
“When Lex told me, he proved it. He proved it. I didn’t want to see it but he proved it to me. I’m not what she wants. She’ll never want me like I want her.”
Alex looked down at her and Lena watched her expression shift, dancing through a dozen different emotions.
“It hurts, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
“You have anything to drink here? Something good, I don’t want to pussy around with box wine. This is a whiskey occasion.”
Perplexed, Lena simply said, “Side cupboard, there’s a bottle of single malt and some tumblers.”
Alex didn’t bother with the glasses. She took out the bottle and uncapped it, whistling softly before she took a long pull straight from the bottle.
“Smooth,” she said, not even wincing. “Shit, this bottle probably costs a month of my rent.”
“It was my dad’s favorite,” Lena muttered. “My first drink was that scotch. He gave me a little sip when I was twelve. Lillian screeched at him for it.”
“She would, she’s a thundering bitch,” said Alex.
Alex sat down and passed Lena the bottle. She took a drink and passed it back, and they sat there in silence for a while, passing drinks back and forth.
“See I’m not a shrink or anything,” said Alex, “but if I had to analyze this situation I think what I see is you hurting Kara hoping that she’ll hurt you back and validate your feelings so you can stop feeling sad about her.”
“Fuck you,” Lena muttered.
“Not my type. Besides, bro code. My sister has dibs.”
Lena almost spat out a mouthful of scotch. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“You know when she’s doing the zoom zoom thing, she has a comms piece in her ear. I listen in on what she’s doing,” Alex began to imitate Kara in a grating falsetto. “Lena you have to jump!”
“What?”
“Remember that time she was going to let the entire city’s water supply be poisoned to save you?”
Lena took another pull before passing the bottle back.
“Yeah,” said Lena, not caring that her Irish accent was slipping out.
“Or that time she flew you to the DEO after Edge poisoned you?”
“She saves people all the time,” Lena protested.
“Yeah, but she doesn’t bridal carry them to safety and moon over them like a lovesick teenager and do the whole brushing their hair back thing. She says something corny and flies off. Unless it’s you. The whole world goes on pause when it’s you.”
“It can’t be.”
Alex took a way too long drink and looked at her.
“Did it never occur to you that she might have two secrets? That the one might compel her to keep the other?”
Lena rubbed at her eyes. The whisky was weighing heavily on her, and before she knew it, she was sobbing.
To her utter shock, Alex rubbed her back.
“Here’s what we do. You and me go get Myriad,”
“I’m too drunk to drive.”
“Then call your chauffeur, you spoiled rich brat,” Alex snapped, “and we go get Myriad and we go back to the DEO. You apologize and you and Kara talk this out, and you remember that if you ever physically harm my sister again I actually will shoot you.”
“Also,” said Lena. “You and I. You and I will go get Myriad, not you and me.”
Lena yanked the bottle back and finished it.
“Okay. Okay fine, let’s-“
There was a double thud as boot heels hit the balcony, a sound Lena had long grown used to. She and Alex both watched as Kara slid the balcony door open and swept into the penthouse, cape flaring majestically behind her.
God she was so pretty, and so handsome. She was like a brave knight in some fairytale, head bowed and jaw set like she was marching to a battle she wasn’t sure she could win.
Lena’s chest ached.
“We need to talk,” Kara intoned. “I’m not going to hurt you anymore, but I can’t let you do something you’ll regret forever. I…”
She trailed off as she saw a very drunk Alex sitting next to a very drunk Lena Luthor, the pair sitting against Lena’s kitchen cabinets and dishwasher, respectively, having clearly finished off the empty bottle of scotch that sat between them.
“What the hell?” said Kara.
“Did she just cuss?” said Alex.
“She did,” said Lena.
“What is this? What are you two doing? Alex, is that your gun?”
“Yeah,” said Alex. “I’m gonna get an Uber so you two can talk this out.”
“What?” Kara said, utterly baffled.
As she stood, Lena drew her legs up and hugged her knees. She looked away at first, then looked up and made herself meet Kara’s eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she whimpered.
With a tenderness that belied her strength, Kara gently raised Lena to her feet. She’d kicked off her heels and Kara loomed over her, soft hands that could crush steel resting gently on her arms. Lena couldn’t bear the weight of her concern. Seeing the worry in Kara’s eyes, the unconditional compassion, hurt her as much as staring into the sun.
“I’m the one who should be sorry,” said Kara. “I’m the one who should apologize. You were right, Lena. I forced myself into your life and pushed past all your barriers but I never lowered mine. I tried to live in your heart but made you live like a guest in mine. You deserve better.”
“I don’t want better,” Lena whispered. “I want you.”
Kara went very still.
“You want me?”
“I’m so sorry I hurt you, Kara.”
Kara took a half step forward and pulled Lena into an embrace, guiding her into a hug. As those arms like stone walls curled around her and the cape sheltered her against Kara’s unnatural, fever-hot warmth, Lena choked back a hitching sob. It almost felt like it would be okay.
“It’s alright,” Kara whispered. “It’ll be okay. We can come back from this.”
“How? I hurt you, Kara.”
“I forgive you.”
“You can’t just-“
“Shhh,” Kara nuzzled against the crown of Lena’s head. “I’m Supergirl. I can do anything.”
#supercorp#supergirl fanfiction#supergirl#supercorp fanfic#lena luthor#kara danvers#kara x lena#karlena#supergirl fanfic#ficlet#love confession#big sister alex#Alex giving a shovel talk#Alex the Wingman#rift fix#sad lena luthor#sad kara danvers#fortress scene rewrite#Kryptonians can purr#idiots in love#star-crossed soulmates#Lena always knew#she just didn’t know she knew#lena luthor needs a hug#kara danvers needs a hug#Lena Luthor brings baby girl energy to the fight#Kara has daddy swagger#the people who love us most hurt us most sometimes#hot take: what Lena did at the fortress was physical abuse#hot take 2: Kara had a lot to apologize for
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rereading lily's letter to sirius:
starting off strong with 'dear', very formal letter writing but also kinda endearing depends how you look at it. BUT she follows with his 'padfoot' soo it's def endearing. it already shows just how close the two are from those two words.
ofc harry's favourite present was the one sirius got him (#bestdogfather)
ofc sirius gets a 1yr old a toy broom (#funnestdogfather)
i love how chill lily is about harry almost killing the cat and smashing a vase. she's so the fun mum. also petunia and lily still sending each other christmas presents, like why do i find that so sad/sweet?? idk. i love their relationship sm it's so interesting. and ik some people are gonna be thinking 'oh petunia probably regifted the ugly vase' but no. i think she went shopping specifically for lily and picked it out thinking it looked great (she's got horrible taste)
lily saying james found it funny as if she didn't also. girl please, you know you found it so fucking funny. also james already planning out harry's quidditch career. the man is obsessed. (no war au hari def would've became a professional qudditch player i fear)
btw if you're not british, "we've had a very quiet birthday tea", basically means like an afternoon tea. they're not just drinking tea, they do have tea but also some food (like lunchy food, sandwiches and cakes) and sit down at a table and chat basically. and harry will likely also be opening presents during it too
harry kinda having a doting grandma with bathilda>>>
lily prioritising the order !! she's so responsible, smart, dedicated i love her. plus she's being so real about babies. like. yeah he ain't gonna remember it anyway (also i'm guessing this means like. sirius had an order mission so couldn't come to harry's birthday? but does this mean peter and remus did too? or was only sirius invited??)
james having trouble with just staying at home constantly <33 and trying to hide it so lily doesn't worry <333 cutest husband ever.
fuck dumbledoreeeee. i don't mind him sometimes, but how dare he take james' cloak (his family heirloom) so james and lily and harry can't go on secret outing together??? they are NOT made for staying inside. james needs his runs and flying and fresh air and chats to strangers and lily needs her woods and nature and hiking and camping.
"if you could visit, it'd cheer him up so much" SHE GETS THEM.. SHE GETS THEM
lily also calling peter "wormy", they're so also her best friends and not just james', do NOT even argue.
ik people argue this bit about the mckinnons as a proof lily was never close to marlene, but it so is proof of the opposite to me!! maybe i'm coldhearted, but i would NOT be crying all fucking evening just cause a family that i kinda know and am colleagues with one or a few of them got killed.. all evening??? ALL EVENING?? yeah, they were def close friends for sure. (and she's not just gonna single out marlene because it was ALL her family, it'd be a bit weird and disrespectful to only say marlene. especially if you, as a lot of people do, hc lily and marlene as roommates and close friends all throughout school. like lily would've visited marlene's family quite a few times. she'd know them fairly well)
lily getting ALL the gossip about dumbledore from bathilda. love that for her. also her not believing dumbledore was friends with grindelwald i'm giggling. she would've lost her mind at the idea of them as exes fr (also lily building up the suspense about dumbledore being friends with grindelwald by putting the "friends with grindelwald" part on the next page so he'd have to read the next page.. she totally didn't just run out of room. that was on purpose)
"lots of love" SCREAMING. THEY LOVE EACH OTHER SM. lilypad ily. lilypad ily. bestfriends fr!!!!!!!
also not related to the text itself, but severus taking the page where lily says "lots of love" and cutting lily out of the photo of harry on his broomstick like... FUCKING MAN.. that was for SIRIUS. that's lily's love for SIRIUS. don't take her love, she didn't fucking mean it for you, don't try to pretend it was you, you absolute wanker.. anyway
#lily evans#sirius black#lily's letter to sirius#marauders era#lilypad#secretly but probably not so secretly#harry potter
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I swear I check back for arranged!gojo brain worms and revisit the tag and there’s ALWAYS MORE!!! Why must you feed my brain wormies so WELL!? 💜💜
But also just imagining reader leading up to the wedding breaks my heart. She’s so happy to be away from her family, it’s not naoya zenin who’s been making nasty comments about reader needing some molding to be the perfect wife and that the first of many children to come better be a boy or reader will be sorry. Gojo who’s always been perfectly civil with her and while he can’t attend any of the meetings to discuss the marriage his parents assure her he’s happy and why would Madam Gojo lie to her after being the closest thing to a mother she’s ever had??
She’s excited to be treated as an equal and then the doors open the night of the wedding and nothing is what she was told it was as she sees Gojo glare at her from the alter… frickin ouch 😭😭
omg nonnie you hit it on the head with this one
the thing that hurts the most is just how excited reader was to finally be able to have a shot of happiness. she had forced herself into believing that her life was going to go from miserable to even more miserable if she were to wed naoya, so hearing that gojo was not only to marrying her but that he wanted to? she was so happy
and leading up to the moments before the wedding she was just giddy. she was finally able to wear a dress of her own, not a hand me down from her sister, people were being nice to her, she was able to eat the most expensive meals, and life seemed like it was going to be good.
so when she finally landed her sight on gojo that’s when all of her excitement crumbled and a part of her sunk. she knew how miserable her father was married to a woman he never loved, and in that moment she realized she might have to live her mothers life all over again
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Wormy girl!!
I really need to draw Minho more often
I love her so much 😭😭
#montyart#oc#Minho#2025#worm on a string#furry#anthro#artists on tumblr#art#anthro art#digital art#ocs#ref
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Sweat it out
Summary: tav comes down with a nasty flu, and one of her travel companions begins to worry... and maybe realize his feelings
WC: 1.3k
warnings: none i think! idiots in love
f!tav x reader
It’s quiet outside Astarion’s tent as he paces back and forth. Halsin has been inside with you for far too long, and the lack of communication has him worried. How long has it been since he hasn’t ended the night with your words, your breath near his? Weeks, months?
He doesn’t like to think of it. In fact, he’s doing an excellent attempt at thinking about anything else as he paces, and fails to notice the clatter of their camp members walking over to him.
“Chin up soldier, the rest of us seem okay, it probably has nothing to do with her tadpole.”
“Karlach is right,” Gale agrees, “it seems unlikely that the rest of us would be spared the same fate if this truly was connected to our wormy affliction. She will pull through.”
As much as it pains him to admit it, Gale is right. For all logical sense, this should have nothing to do with the mind flayers—but the thought offers little comfort (few things hinging on Gale’s ideas rarely do.)
It has started this morning, you had remarked how your head felt wrong. You felt wrong. You had ignored it, had soldiered on. As the day progressed, you complained of aches that had not been there, of chills that ran down your arms. Your skin grew pallor, covered in a sheen of sweat. By the end of the night, a cough ragged at your chest, and you could do nothing f else but whimper to yourself. The slightest motion had set tears out of your eyes, your skin burning itself to rid your body of whatever was happening.
Only Halsin, Lae’zel, and Shadowheart accompanied you now, the two healers were working overtime on an attempt to find your ailment, and Lae’zel was not easily persuaded to leave behind one of her dearest friends.
Astarion thinks of the dagger pressed to poor Wyll’s throat when he kindly attempt to guide her towards a spot nearest the fire.
He’s worried about you. This isn’t new, he’s made peace with the reality that he cares for you, he just hasn’t figured out how to say it. Now, he fears the opportunity may be slipping from him.
It’s Halsin’s booming voice that calms his nerves, he and the other two step out from the tent, his grin palpable even from where Astarion is standing. “She’ll be fine. It’s a nasty virus, I’ve given her a brew to aid in the healing, and I’ve created tonics for the rest of us.”
As he passes them out, Shadowheart walks up to Astarion, who is quickly making his way towards your tent. “You… don’t need a tonic. On the account of you being, you know. Not really alive.”
“You’ve got such a way with words, really,” he breathes, but his eyes flicker to the flap of your tent, “so I can go see her?”
Lae’zel speaks up, placing a firm pat on his arm as she walks by, “she’s certainly been asking for you.”
* * *
You have two clear, feverish trances.
The first is of your mother. A memory that’s not uncommon, one you drift back to anytime you attempt to rest an illness away. Its familiarity brings comfort as you attempt to sweat this bug out, and ignore Halsin and Shadowheart’s proding over your body.
The other is… newer. One you hadn’t expected. You’re in a secluded section of camp, feet tapping against the water, skin swathed in moonlight. Your wearing nothing other than a long, white shirt, unlaced dangerously along the neck. This is no more than two days ago.
You follow the memory along, watch from your eyes as you trace circles along your bare thighs, until you look to your side. Astarion is there, eyes swimming with emotion, as he gnaws on his lip.
Memory Astarion reaches out, grabbing your hand, weaving your fingers together. “I’m glad you’ve convinced me to stick around after our escapades, you are entirely addicting.”
Memory you leans against him, pressing your weight against his. His skin is cool, the chill sending tiny bumps along your exposed legs. “I’m glad you’ve decided to humor me, Star.”
You’re mortified when your eyes flutter open, your mouth in the process of muttering his name, to realize he’s here. Next to you. In your tent. As you sweat through probably a third pair of smallclothes.
“You rang?” He’s cheeky when he speaks, but his hand goes to palm your stomach quickly, as if he’s checking to make sure you’re here, you’re still you. The concern is sweet, and it sends an all new kind of flush across your body.
“Feel so sick, Star.” Shit. Is that tiny little voice coming from you?
He moves then, gentler than he’s ever moved before, carefully contorting his body around yours and pressing you against him. In an instant, it’s like a salve to your soul. You’re covered in him—his smell, his weight, his temperature. The chill itself is a whole other soothe to your aches.
“I know you are darling, but Halsin said you’ll be better soon.”
“Can’t get you sick,” a cough takes your lungs briefly, “who’s gonna pick the locks for us then?”
He laughs, and smooths a few stray hairs out of your face. “I won’t. Officially medically cleared, according to Shadowheart. On the account of my ‘not being alive.’”
You move to nod your head, but the pain makes you stop. Astarion is quick, and he cushions the movement with his hand before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I hear you were dreaming about me?”
“Maybe. Lots of trances. You know how it goes.”
“Was it particularly scandalous? Is that why my little love is so keen to swear?”
“Don’t have it in me to hit you.”
“You wouldn’t dream of it.”
It’s a calm silence that takes you next, Astarion stroking your hair as you listen to the distant clamor of your friends. You break it, after another moment.
“I remembered my mother.”
You don’t often talk about your family, and he knows this. He moved just slightly so you can see his face, curiosity and warmth covering his eyes. “What was it?”
“When I was little, I got sick, nothing bad but still sick. My mother, she’d rub my hair and sing to me,” you pause to close your eyes, as if you could will her here right now, “she’d go to our kitchens and shoo the cooks out, she’d make me her special soup, and when she brought it to me she’d promise me she’d teach me one day.”
“She sounds lovely.”
“She was. Smart too. She always knew things about me that I didn’t know.”
“Oh, like what?” Astarion’s face shimmers with a laugh and you use the last bit of your strength to attempt a shrug and burrow into his chest.
“She used to tell me she knew I’d end up with someone older. Don’t know if she knew how old.”
After your words, as if in cue, your chest begins its steady rise and fall, and Astarion recognizes the twitch in your fingers. You’re trancing again. Which means he’s stuck with your words and their heavy implications.
Still, with the way your overheating body simmers against his cold touch, he resolved that he doesn’t mind their weight, not at all. In fact, he’d like more of your burden.
You don’t slip out of your trance that night, but feel the briefest ghost of a kiss on your forehead.
When sunlight rolls around, your eyes blink awake. You’re weak, you can feel it, but better. You go to sit up, but realize quickly Astarion’s weight is still against you, one arm cradling your head to his chest, one arm twisted beneath you.
You’ve never quite felt so comfortable, so held. You don’t remember what you told him last night, don’t remember exactly what he said. Instead, you decided to live in this moment now, and pray to all the gods you’ll get to relive it again soon.
#astarion x tav#astarion x reader#astarion#bg3 astarion#astarion bg3#bg3#bg3 tav#bg3 fic#astarion ancunin#astarion ancunin x reader
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She-Wolf
Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader, Sirius Black x Reader, Remus Lupin x Reader, Wolfstar x Reader
Warnings: smut, angst
Word Count: 4K+
A/N: She-Wolf by Shakira is such a Marauders song thank you Shakira for your contributions to society
S.O.S. she's in disguise
S.O.S. she's in disguise
There's a she wolf in disguise
Coming out, coming out, coming out
“Alright James?” Remus asked as he set his books down on his bed, Sirius and Peter trailing in behind him.
“Yeah, Prongs, what the hell are you doing?” Sirius asked, flopping down on his bed and watching James throw away a cluster of chocolate frog wrappers.
“I’m cleaning after you animals.” James rolled his eyes playfully.
“Why?” Peter asked.
“My cousin is coming to visit and I got permission for her to stay here.” James held up a set of a dirty robes that had been hidden under Peter’s bed and gagged.
“Your cousin? I thought she was up in the Pyrenees at Beauxbatons.” Remus bent down to help James pick up discarded candy bean packages.
“Is she still a foul little bitch?” Peter said, flopping onto his bed and scowling.
“Whoa Wormy! Didn’t know you even knew that word!” Sirius laughed.
“Don’t tell me you’re still upset with her for your little quidditch incident when we were seven.” James laughed.
“She hit me with her broomstick and broke my nose.” Peter sulked.
“That was years ago, Peter. Beauxbatons has a holiday for some French event and I got Dumbledore’s permission to stay. I need everyone to be on their best behavior because she’s going to meet Evans for the first time.”
“I will not be nice to her.” Peter crossed his arms.
“Yes, you will.” James’ words were clipped. Sirius was going to fire off some other ugly compliment when there was a knock at the dorm door.
“Professor Dumbledore,” James took a step back from the door.
“Hello gentlemen. James, your cousin’s chariot has landed by the black lake. She’s in the great hall now, waiting for you.” Dumbledore smiled. James, Remus, and Sirius bounded down the stairs while Peter sulked upstairs.
Remus was absolutely knocked back when he saw you. Sure, you were absolutely gorgeous but there was something about you, something he couldn’t quite name that had him enraptured by you.
You were seated at the Gryffindor table in the great hall, talking to Mary. You hand was light on Mary’s arm, your head thrown back in laughter at something Mary had said.
“Potter! You didn’t tell me your cousin was so hilarious.” Mary grinned as the boys sat down next to you.
“It’s so good to see you, James.” You gave your cousin a tight hug before looking at the two boys seated next to him. “I imagine you must be Sirius and Remus. James never shuts up about you.”
A domesticated girl that's all you ask of me
Darling, it is no joke, this is lycanthropy
The moon's awake now, with eyes wide open
My body's craving, so feed the hungry
“Guilty as charged.” Sirius winked.
“Where’s Peter?” You asked.
“He’s still cross with you about the broomstick.” James rolled his eyes.
“Oh my God that was like ten years ago.” You laughed and rolled your own eyes.
“So how long will you be staying with us?” Sirius asked.
“The whole weekend!”
“That long?” James looked alarmed. He had told the boys that you were only staying for the night.
“Is that alright?” You cocked your head.
“Of course, of course. Moony, Pads, can I talk to you for a second?” James stood from the table and gestured for the boys to follow until they were out of earshot of the table.
“So she’s staying for a week?” Sirius glared at James.
“I didn’t know! What are we going to do?” James moaned.
I've been devoting myself to you Monday to Monday and Friday to Friday
Not getting enough retribution or decent incentives to keep me at it
I'm starting to feel just a little abused like a coffee machine in an office, ah
So I'm gonna go somewhere cosy to get me a lover and tell you about it
“Do about what?” Peter asked, joining the group.
“James’ cousin is staying for the entire weekend.” Remus sighed.
“What about the moon on Saturday?” Peter asked.
“Yeah, that’s the problem Pete.” Sirius rubbed his temples
“I knew there was nothing good that could happen with that girl around.” Peter shook his head and made his way back over to the table.
“Alright Peter?” You grinned up at the boy.
“Potter.” He glared down at you.
“Don’t tell me your still upset about the broom!”
“It’s all he’s talked about for the past two weeks.” Mary said with an eyeroll. “You’re coming to the Three Broomsticks tonight, right?”
“Am I?” You looked up at James.
“Yeah! We’ll do dinner here and then drinks at the pub and you can meet Lily. I think you’ll love her.” James smiled.
There's a she wolf in the closet
Open up and set it free
There's a she wolf in your closet
Let it out so it can breathe
“Excellent! When’s dinner I’m starving?” You asked.
“About an hour. I think James and I are going to do a quick spin on the pitch if you’d like to join. I’m sure Wormy would love it.” Sirius grinned at the thought of you being around Peter again with a broom.
“I appreciate the offer but I actually was wondering if you could point me in the direction of Madame Pomfrey’s office.”
“What do you need to see Madame Pomfrey for?” James was immediately concerned, his hand going to your forehead to check your temperature.
“I’m fine,” you laughed, “I’ve been wanting to explore the world of healing after I graduate and I hear that Poppy Pomfrey is one of the best medi-witches in the UK.” You explained.
“I can walk you down,” Remus said, getting up and extending his hand to help you up.
“See you all at dinner!” You waved to the group and walked down to the hospital wing with Remus.
Remus left you in the hospital wing and made his way back up to the dorms, expecting to find it completely empty. He was surprised to see Sirius lounging on Remus’ bed, playing with a snitch.
Sitting across a bar, staring right at her prey
It's going well so far, she's gonna get her way
Nocturnal creatures are not so prudent
The moon's my teacher, and I'm her student
“What are you doing up here?” Remus asked, sitting down hard on the bed and sighing. His body was sore, the way it always was in the days leading up to the moon.
“Peter threw another hissy fit so James is calming him down. I didn’t want to hear him moan anymore so I thought I’d come here and hear you moan.” Sirius smirked, grabbing Remus by the back of the neck and kissing him hard. Remus chuckled and reciprocated, his teeth clashing against Sirius’ as he pulled off his shirt. Remus could feel Sirius growing hard beneath him and he chuckled,
“You’re so needy for me.” Remus grinned. Sirius moaned into Remus’ open mouth and whispered,
“You’re always so hot near the moon.” Sirius flipped Remus over so Sirius was on top and started to kiss down Remus’ jaw, then his chest, then down his stomach towards his cock. Sirius took Remus into his mouth and relaxed his mouth, trying to take in as much of Remus as he could. Remus knotted his fingers in Sirius’ dark hair and moaned,
“Fuck yeah, Black. God that feels so good.”
Sirius moaned around Remus’ cock, taking out his own cock and jerking it as he sucked Remus off. Remus knew the moon heightened his emotions and impulses but he felt like his skin was on fire. It felt like every nerve ending was exposed and as he came he released a strangled,
“Oh Potter.”
Sirius jerked his head back, his mouth still full of Remus’ cum and quirked an eyebrow at him. Sirius swallowed harshly and said,
“You just killed my hard-on.”
To locate the single man I got on me a special radar
And the fire department hot line in case I get in trouble later
Not looking for cute little divos or rich city guys I just want to enjoy
By having a very good time and behave very bad in the arms of a boy
“I-” Remus was bright red and trying to make sense of what had just happened.
“You don’t have a crush on James, do you?” Sirius joked.
“No, no, not James…”
“It’s his cousin! I knew it! You’ve been acting weird ever since she got here.” Sirius was a little annoyed now, “I thought you were gay, you big liar.”
“I am! I don’t know what it is about her…something I can’t quite explain. Hopefully it’s all just related the moon.” Remus shook his head.
“Maybe you should fuck her,” Sirius shrugged.
“Excuse me?”
“Yeah. Get it out of your system. We could have a little threesome!” Sirius laughed.
“With James’ cousin? He would murder us in cold blood.” Remus shook his head.
You were making your way back up from the hospital wing when a girl started walking in stride with you.
“Can I help you?” You asked her. James had warned you extensively of steering clear of the Slytherins and this girl wasn’t wearing her house tie so you were a bit concerned.
“Sorry! I’m Lily, James’ girlfriend. You’re his cousin, aren’t you?” She stopped and stretched out her hand.
“Oh hi! How did you know I was James’ cousin?” You asked, shaking her hand and resuming your walk.
“He’s talked about you for two weeks straight, I think I could’ve drawn you from memory. Also your powder blue Beauxbatons uniform makes you stick out like a sore thumb.” Lily giggled.
“Oh,” you released a laugh yourself, “I guess you’re right.” You fiddled with the sleeve of your uniform as you walked with Lily to the great hall.
There's a she wolf in the closet
Open up and set it free
There's a she wolf in your closet
Let it out so it can breathe
It was far more alive than it had been just an hour ago when you had arrived. The four large tables were packed, each one was practically overflowing with students who were talking loudly and over each other. You expected a clear divide between each house, after James’ comments about Slytherin but it seemed like there was a fair amount of intermingling. The Slytherins generally kept to themselves but other than that you saw people of all tie colors sitting together, chatting, eating, joking around. You saw Mary sitting in the lap of a boy with a yellow tie at a table that was not Gryffindor’s. You couldn’t help but stare at the Slytherin table as you walked towards the Gryffindor table. There was a boy at the table that was staring daggers at you. He had impossibly pale skin, a large hooked nose, and long dark hair that seemed overdue for a wash. He was seated next to a boy who bore a striking resemblance to Sirius and you seemed to remember your Aunt Effie mentioning something about taking in Sirius after a fall-out with his family. He was a Black, if you remembered correctly, and even though tensions about blood status were not as high in France as they were in the UK, you were well aware of the Black legacy. Perhaps this boy was Sirius’ brother. Regardless, he wasn’t the one staring at you-that was the greasy haired boy.
Lily had something to you that you hadn’t processed and she followed your gaze to the boy. To your surprise, her face split into a grin and she waved at the boy who only blushed red and dropped his head.
“That’s Severus. He’s…an old friend of mine. James doesn’t like that we’re friends. I’m sure he’s told you all about how awful and foul the Slytherins are.” Lily’s voice and an edge to it.
“He has,” you nodded, “but James has always been very passionate about what he believes in.”
“That’s an understatement,” Lily nodded as you sat. You two were the first of the group to sit at the table and you relished the few moments of quiet where you could talk with Lily uninterrupted.
“I’m not going to say anything bad about James,” you said, diplomatically, “but I have no business in writing people off before I can make my own sound judgement about them.”
“Oh,” Lily seemed to have been released of an intense weight on her shoulders, “I’m so glad to hear that. It’s rich coming from James, too, considering that Remus-” Lily’s eyes went wide and she immediately sucked in a deep breath.
“Remus has all those scars, right? Must make him a target for bullies.” You supplied.
“Yes, yes exactly.” Lily said gratefully. Before she could say anything else, Sirius and Remus waltzed into the hall, followed closely by James and Peter.
“Look at that! My two best girls are already acquainted!” James shoved his way between you and Lily and wrapped his arms around you both.
“Oh God,” you gagged, wiggling out of James’ grasp and covering your nose with your hand.
“James you smell disgusting!” Lily also scooted away from James and gave him a playfully disgusted look.
“I was on the pitch!” James said with mock shock, “Don’t act like you don’t love it Evans!” He practically tackled Lily, peppering with kisses as she pretended to retch.
“Are they always that lovey-dovey?” You asked Sirius, who sitting across from you.
“Unbearably so.” Sirius rolled his eyes.
“So how was your talk with Madame Pomfrey?” Remus asked. It seemed like every time you turned your head Remus was staring at you with his deep, inquisitive eyes.
“Great! She shared a lot of great resources about healing.” You nodded and took a bite of your food. The blonde girl at the table, Marlene, whipped her head around.
“Are you interesting in healing?” She asked excitedly.
“Uh, yes. I was thinking about pursuing it after I graduate.” You replied cautiously.
“So will I! I’d love to pick your brain about it.” Marlene had a wide grin on her face.
“Absolutely,” you said with mock confidence, “another time though. I’m here to spend time with my cousin, if he can bear detaching himself from his girlfriend for a moment.”
The table came alive with that, everyone laughing and hollering as James and Lily broke apart both red faced and sheepish. James was informing you of the evening’s itinerary when you felt a foot trace its way up your leg. Not too far up or anything, but it was definitely there and it definitely belonged to one Sirius Black. He was looking at you with a smirk as his fingers danced around the rim of his goblet. It took an active effort for you to tear yourself away from his gaze and pay attention to what James was saying.
“Hold on a second,” you held your hand up and looked at James in astonishment, “you want to hit the pitch tomorrow at seven in the morning after getting pissed tonight? Are you insane?”
“I’m giving you an extra hour of sleep!” James was wearing a face of true astonishment at your protests.
“Didn’t you know that James Potter has never ever been hungover in his life.” Peter said with a head shake.
“He’s absolutely insufferable after a night of drinking.” Sirius chuckled. His foot was still tracing up and down your leg.
“Oh I bet he is.” You chuckled but your eyes never left Sirius’.
“Where will you be sleeping?” Marlene asked. It seemed like dinner was finally coming to a close and you are were all just sipping at your goblets.
“The boys’ dorm. I think Dumbledore was kind enough to set up an extra cot but we always used to sleep in the same bed when were little.” James pinched your cheek.
“If you’re going to be insane about Quidditch tomorrow though I’m not sure I want to share a bed with you.” You chuckled.
“You could always take Moony’s bed, he spends most his nights in Sirius’ bed anyway.” Peter shrugged. Someone breathed in sharply and everyone’s heads shot towards Peter like he’d said something out of turn. James’ gaze was stony, which was odd, you hadn’t known that your cousin had had a mean bone in his body. But here he was, glaring down his oldest friend.
“You’re together?” You asked, looking between Remus and Sirius.
“Yes,” Sirius said. James looked like he was ready to launch into a speech but you only shrugged and said,
“You make a cute couple.”
There was a collective sigh as it seemed that the group was able to drop their guard again. You wondering how many people knew about Sirius and Remus’ relationship. You also found Sirius’ game of footsy all the more confusing.
You had been a bit suspicious of the Gryffindors when you heard that James wasn’t prone to hangovers. You had assumed that the Gryffindors probably all passed around a bottle of spiked butterbeer and went to sleep a little warm and giggly. You were not expecting the rounds of shots, the drinking games, the chugging contests, the Weed. You were drunk out of your mind. Sirius was playing footsy with you again, being less subtle this time about the way he stared and ogled you. But everyone else was drunk too. Remus was staring, that was nothing new, but you figured maybe he was mad at you for capturing the attention of his boyfriend. But you could’ve sworn you had Remus’ attention first.
“I’m gonna get another round.” Remus slurred, standing on shaky legs and walking over the bar.
“I’ll go help,” Sirius followed Remus, slapping his ass hard as he made his way to the bar with his boyfriend.
“Cheers Moony!” James laughed. His glasses were lopsided on his head and his jaw was covered in red lipstick kiss marks. Lily was perched comfortably on his lap and was resting her head in the crook of his neck. Marlene, Mary, and Peter had tapped out and returned about an hour before with their respective partners, no doubt trying to find unoccupied areas of the castle for a liquor-fueled hookup.
“James I gotta question for you,” you giggled, knocking over an empty bottle of firewhiskey.
“Anything for you, love,” James sent a wide grin your way.
“Why do’ya call Remus Moony?”
“It’s actually a very interesting story,” James took his glasses off and pointed them your way but Lily slapped her hand over James’ mouth.
“I think you’ve had much too much to drink, James.” She said with a panicked laugh. Remus and Sirius returned with the tray of shots and you turned to the boys,
“Remus, why does everyone call you Moony?” You asked him directly.
“Just a nickname.” Sirius was casual, relaxed. An odd change from Lily.
“Mooooony.” You crooned the entire way back to the dorms. “I like that. It has good mouth feel, you know.” You giggled at the sound of your own voice. James was brushing his teeth now, Lily had returned to her dorm and you were laying in James’ bed, just a blink away from falling asleep.
S.O.S. she's in disguise
S.O.S. she's in disguise
There's a she wolf in disguise
Coming out, coming out, coming out
“I quite like when you say my name,” Remus said, quickly and smoothly in your ear. His voice sent shivers down your spine. And then, you would tell yourself in the morning that you imagined it because you were so drunk, but you could have sworn that Remus licked up the side of your neck.
When you woke up the next morning, your brain was pulsating inside your skull. You heard someone retching in the bathroom and you turned and found the bed empty. You tried to remember if James had even returned the night before or if you had left him in the pub when he sauntered back in, sweaty from a few rounds at the pitch.
“There’s no way you aren’t hungover.” You groaned, turning over onto your stomach and wrapping your pillow over your ears.
“Why don’t we get some breakfast? You’ll feel better.” James teased gently, trying to pull the covers off you.
“Shut the fuck up James!” Remus snapped from behind his curtain.
“Alright Moony, don’t yell just because it’s your time of the month. I have a bad enough headache as it is.” Peter was rubbing his temples as he exited the bathroom. He must’ve been the one vomiting earlier.
“Time of the month?” You asked.
“Breakfast time!” James said suddenly, clapping his hands around your head.
“Go away!” You groaned again, burying your head in your pillow until you were able to fall asleep again. When you woke up it was just you and Remus in the dorm. You dressed quietly as Remus explained that you two had slept through breakfast but you would be able to make lunch. Sirius and Peter had left just a few minutes before and James had already showered and finished an essay and was now waiting for you downstairs. You two made your way together down to the great hall where you wrapped your hands around a cup of coffee and nibbled at a piece of dry toast. Remus had loaded up his plate with a variety of lunch foods and you were staring at him in astonishment. Other than Remus, James was the only one with a normal appetite.
“How are you not hungover?” You were flabbergasted, shaking your head at James.
“You inherited Aunt Camille’s Veela status, I got her ability to avoid hangovers.” James shrugged.
“So! I was thinking that you could spend the night in the girls’ dorm tonight. We’ll have a little sleepover.” Lily said with a grin.
“Oh I’d love that but I actually want to spend more time with Jamesie here.” You smiled. Lily shot James a panicked expression that you weren’t able to fully understand. Remus leaned over and looked at the boys, sharing a knowing look that meant they all needed to talk. Luckily for the boys, you and Marlene were going to head to the library which meant the boys had free reign over the dorm for the foreseeable future.
“Maybe it’s not a good idea for you all to come with me to the shack. We can’t risk your cousin finding anything out.” Remus sighed.
“No! Moony we’ll figure it out, don’t worry. We can give her a strong sleeping draught tonight and sneak out after.” James reassured Remus.
Remus was even more on edge than usual. Having you nearby and the approaching moon had his skin on fire and he just wanted to get the moon over and done with. Luckily for everyone, you had decided that your hangover was still plaguing you so you decided to spend the night in the hospital wing.
S.O.S. she's in disguise
S.O.S. she's in disguise
There's a she wolf in disguise
Coming out, coming out, coming out
The moon had been incredible. More than that. Remus had never felt so amazing and free. He was surprised, however, that he wasn’t back in the shack when he came to. He was shaking when he saw Sirius, James, and Peter staring over him concern written all over their faces.
“What’s wrong?” Remus asked.
“There was another wolf. You couldn’t keep away from each other. We have no idea where she came from.” Sirius was wringing his hands. They helped Remus up and were starting to head back to the shack when they saw someone stumble out of the woods and collapse at the edge of the clearing.
“That must be the other wolf.” James said. The boys all ran, with Sirius supporting Remus still, over to the collapsed figure.
“Oh my God.” Peter gasped.
“There’s a she-wolf in disguise.” Sirius looked up at James, who could only stare down at your unconscious body below them.
There's a she wolf in your closet
Let it out so it can breathe
#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#sirius black#Sirius black x reader#remus lupin x sirius black#wolfstar#remus lupin smut#Sirius black smut#remus lupin x reader smut#remus lupin angst#Sirius black x reader smut#sirius black angst#James potter#Peter pettigrew#lily evans#marauders#marauders era
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So a lot of twins claim to have a sort of twintuition thing where they understand each other easily and often without words, and sometimes have high-level empathetic reactions to things that are happening to the other twin, even if they don’t know what’s happening to the other twin because they are in different locations at the time. There’s obviously not a lot of scientific evidence to back it up, but, eh. It’s a cool concept.
But what if, for the Skywalker twins, the force just ramped that up to 100.
Fic-ish thing below the cut.
Five-year-old Luke is learning the Tatooine slave language. After all, Aunt Beru used to be Beru Whitesun, before she married Uncle Owen, and his mom was Grandma Shmi, who used to be a Skywalker before she married Uncle Owen’s dad. Beru helps the recently-escaped hide in the secret compartment in the wall of their house more often than Owen does, but he claims it’s for plausible deniability, whatever that means. Leia, on Alderaan, begins mixing the harsh, clicking language with Basic subconsciously, but only when talking to herself in private. After all, she is a princess, and they must choose their words carefully in front of others.
Leia at age ten argues with her cousin about whether droids deserve respect, and across the galaxy, Luke is absolutely overcome with the need to thank every single droid he’s ever met for helping him with anything (he did this anyways before but for some reason he has to do it again Right Now).
Luke gets to drive a speeder by himself for the first time at 13 and Leia is practically begging for someone to take her out in a hovercar and go as fast as possible. And if that can’t happen she’s going to get the space equivalent of a Formula One racing sim, goddamnit.
Seventeen-year-old Junior Senator Leia’s heart skips a beat every time someone mentions Tatooine. She isn’t sure why. Obi-Wan lives there, yes, but something in her just knows that isn’t the real reason. Luke, meanwhile, yearns to see the galaxy, and often finds himself outside at night, staring at the sky. His eyes, for as long as he can remember, have always felt drawn towards a specific star. He asked Uncle Owen about it once when he was younger, and he gruffly explained that it was the Alderaan system. He feels like there’s something there, waiting for him. He’s not sure why.
And then they meet in person, and it’s “You’re a little short for a Stormtroope—Luke?”
“Leia?”
“Do I know you?”
“I don’t think so. Can I hug you?”
“Of course, you idiot. You’re my twin brother. You don’t even have to ask.”
“Thanks, Leia. You know, I had the weirdest dreams when I was ten about you and Old Ben.”
“Oh, yeah, that was actually real. I got kidnapped.”
“Cool.”
“Is it true you got nicknamed ‘Wormie’ by your friends?”
“…Yeah.”
And Han is so confused, but it’s fine, and within two hours their conversations are more like, “Hey, Leia, could you pass me the—“
“Yeah, do want the green one or the—“
“No, the blue one, probably. I need it to—“
“Oh, yeah, of course, that makes sense.”
And then Yoda tries to do the whole “Attached, you are,” routine, and Luke is like, “Well, duh. I’m only here so I can teach Leia everything I learn as soon as I get back. I’m just a pilot, which is a lot more replaceable than a princess, so we thought it would be best if I come learn from you instead of her.”
And meanwhile Leia is a lot stronger in the force now, and she meets Vader again and just goes, “Darth Dad, what the actual fuck,” under her breath in the Tatooine slave language, and the hint of Anakin that’s left absolutely freezes. Because Palpatine—Sideous—whatever, he said his kid was dead. He said that Padme died and the kid did too. He lied. And, when he meets Luke later, and he says the same Sithspitting thing, Anakin gets so thrown he accidentally cuts the kid’s hand off. Luke falls, and the shock of it in the force is so strong, and Anakin’s eyes flash blue in grief and love and hope, all at once, and all of the sudden he can think clearly for the first time in years. And his kids’—his kids!—bond in the force is so strong, how did he not notice it before?
And, anyways, I just feel like Skywalker Twintuition would be on a completely other and incomprehensible level.
#star wars#luke skywalker#leia organa#princess leia#luke and leia#skywalker twins#anakin skywalker#darth vader#skywalker twintuition#ficlet#star wars: a new hope#a new hope#star wars: the empire strikes back#the empire strikes back#star wars: obi-wan kenobi#obi wan kenobi#star wars au#star wars ficlet
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