#i’m guessing seattle is one of the other ones? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

childrenofcain-if · 1 month ago

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After knowing that C and MC were in the same high school, I'm rooting even more for them. I'm also guessing C's confusing feelings for us in their route is them liking us since school? That's so freaking cute 🥰🥺

Can I ask for a scenario where they have a group project with other people and one of them gets very flirty with MC? Will C let that slide, I wonder 🫤

the diner sat on the corner of a street that tried its hardest to look charming but failed, the neon sign buzzing faintly against the rain-streaked window.

it was one of those places that seemed plucked from a movie set: vinyl booths, chrome napkin dispensers, and a jukebox in the corner that hadn’t worked since the last century. the smell of grease hung heavy in the atmosphere, mixing with the faint sweetness of syrup from the breakfast specials they served all day.

you sat in the booth, tapping your pen against the edge of your notebook, watching the door with mild dread. when C walked in, you knew the meeting was about to get infinitely more complicated.

C spotted you immediately, their sharp chalcedony green eyes narrowing like they’d been assigned a particularly irritating math problem. they weren’t dressed for the rain, but their aldervale prep blazer was immaculate, not a drop of water on it, as though the universe had conspired to shield them from the rain outside. although, you guessed it was most probably because of the black umbrella that they were carrying.

C slid into the booth across from you without a word, placing a pristine leather notebook on the table. their pen—silver, of course—clicked once. twice. a quick rhythm that made your teeth itch.

“you’re late,” you said.

“i’m exactly on time,” C replied, their voice clipped like the word ‘time’ had too many syllables and they were doing you a favor by saying it quickly.

your two other group members—darcy and lowe—arrived moments later, looking both nervous and excited, as though they’d stumbled into the VIP lounge of a club they didn’t belong to.

darcy, her backpack practically bursting with highlighters, was vibrating with energy. lowe looked more like they’d been dragged here against their will, though their eyes lit up when they spotted the milkshake menu.

you exchanged pleasantries, ordered drinks, and got down to business.

the topic was seattle, your city, and you were supposed to collectively dissect and analyze for the sake of some interdisciplinary project that combined geography, economics, and, for reasons you still didn’t understand, poetry.

“seattle,” you began, flipping open your notebook, “has many layers to it. you have the tech billionaires building spaceships on one side and grunge bands writing songs about the end of the world on the other. i think we should focus on how those contradictions make it unique.”

“that’s pretty reductive,” C cut in, not bothering to look up from their notebook. “seattle’s economy is primarily driven by tech, aviation, and trade. if we’re going to present a meaningful analysis, we should focus on its economic impact on washington state as a whole.”

darcy and lowe exchanged nervous glances. you clenched your jaw.

“not everything has to be about numbers, lacroix,” you said. “people care about stories, not spreadsheets. we can talk about the economy, sure, but we should start with what makes the city feel alive. the art, the culture—”

“and completely ignore the practical context?” C’s gaze lifted then, their expression somewhere between exasperation and boredom. “that’s like writing about a chess game and leaving out the strategy. completely pointless.”

“it’s not exactly pointless if it makes people care,” you shot back.

the argument spiraled from there, gaining momentum like a runaway train. darcy and lowe sat frozen, their eyes darting between you like spectators at a particularly intense boxing match.

“maybe we should, uh, toss a coin?” darcy offered weakly, her voice barely audible over your bickering.

C smirked, pulling a coin from their pocket as though they’d been waiting for this moment to occur this whole time. you selected tails and they flipped it, caught it, and slapped it onto the back of their hand.

“heads,” they announced, triumphant.

you groaned. “of course.”

“don’t be a sore loser, starkid,” C said, their tone practically dripping with smugness. “we’ll just have to do it my way this time.”

“fine,” you muttered, slumping back against the booth.

the tension eased slightly as the waitress arrived with your food—burgers, fries, and milkshakes that lowe declared were ‘the best in the neighbourhood’ despite never having tried any others.

you talked about school, about the upcoming math test and the cafeteria food which had reduced in quality after some new kitchen staff got employed. darcy was surprisingly funny, and lowe had a good bank of knowledge on obscure sports trivia.

C, however, remained quiet. they ate slowly, like each bite was a boring task to be completed. their posture was rigid, their eyes rarely leaving their plate.

it wasn’t until the conversation turned to favorite places in washington that you noticed something shift. darcy was talking about summers spent hiking in olympic national park, her voice full of nostalgia. lowe mentioned a family road trip to mount rainier.

“so, lacroix,” you said, turning towards the grumpy brunette. “penny for your thoughts?”

they blinked, clearly startled that you’d addressed them directly. “i... i’ve never been to any of those places.”

the table fell silent. even darcy looked surprised.

“seriously?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

they shrugged, their gaze fixed on the condensation dripping down the water glass. “i haven’t lived in washington as long as you all have. besides, i’m not exactly the adventurous type. i just… don’t see the point of, you know, wandering around aimlessly. it’s not like the city’s going anywhere.”

darcy, being the idealist she was, tried to lift the mood. “well, maybe you should visit some of those places one day! olympic’s amazing—especially the hoh rainforest.”

C didn’t respond. they just nodded, their lips pressed into a thin line.

for a moment, you felt something almost like sympathy. C, the untouchable perfectionist, didn’t seem know how to belong in places like this—in diners that smelled like burnt coffee, in conversations that meandered without purpose. they were as out of place here as a chessboard at a football game.

you then frowned, something tugging at the edges of your chest. you remembered hearing something once—maybe in passing, maybe during some rare moment of C opening up in class—that their parents had divorced when they were ten. that they’d moved to seattle from rochester, new york, with their mother, who worked long hours and didn’t have time for much else.

you didn’t know why you said it. maybe it was the way their voice had dipped, the way their composure seemed dulled. but the words came anyway. “maybe we could all go somewhere. for the project, i mean.”

C’s head snapped up, their green eyes narrowing like they were trying to decipher a riddle. for a moment, you thought they were going to say something cruel—an insult that’d have you getting angry again. but then their gaze softened, just a fraction.

“why?” they asked, the word almost inaudible.

you shrugged, suddenly self-conscious. “i don’t know. it might help. plus, you can’t live like a hermit forever while you’re at washington.”

they stared at you for what felt like a long time, their expression unreadable. then, to your surprise, they nodded. wordlessly, awkwardly.

you thought you saw something flicker across their face then—something like a smile, small and fleeting, gone almost as quickly as it came.

for the rest of the meeting, C avoided your gaze. and as you all filed out of the diner, the rain starting up again in soft patters against the window, you found yourself wondering why you’d even offered.

but the truth was, you already knew. sometimes, your heart reached out before your brain could catch up. and for reasons you didn’t fully understand at the moment, it had reached for them.

the day began under a gauzy layer of mist that hung low over seattle. the clouds seemed reluctant to rise and the air carried a faint, damp chill.

lowe’s BMW 5 smelled faintly of peppermint gum and an air freshener that promised ‘ocean breeze’ but delivered something closer to what you’d find at a more eccentric section of bath & body works.

you sat on the passenger seat, your elbow resting against the door, the window cracked open to let in the air. darcy and C were in the backseat, the former preoccupied with her camera, snapping pictures of the dashboard, the sky, and the brunette beside her, who looked like they were already regretting agreeing to this trip.

the car wove its way through the city, past coffee shops with hand-painted signs and streets lined with rain-slicked trees.

lowe, ever the conversationalist, started talking about the destination—a landmark tucked away in one of seattle’s greener corners. but at some point, the conversation shifted, becoming less about the destination and more about you.

“y’know,” lowe said, their voice taking on a teasing lilt as they glanced at you, “i’m really happy we’re doing this. i was always curious about how it’d be to hang out with you outside of school”

you blinked, caught off guard. “um, thanks? that’s nice of you to say.” you gave them a polite smile, the kind you might offer a friendly cashier.

C, sitting stiffly in the backseat, was less amused. they had been glaring at the back of lowe’s head for the past ten minutes, their jaw tight, their arms crossed. every tap of lowe’s fingers, every casual joke, seemed to grate on them like nails on a chalkboard.

darcy, oblivious, was busy snapping pictures with her camera, capturing the rain-slick streets and the way the trees blurred as the car sped past. she hummed under her breath, the shutter clicking steadily, her energy so light and cheerful it was almost its own soundtrack.

finally, C, who had been silent up until now, shifted in their seat with a sharp huff.

“lowe,” they spoke up, their tone clipped, “maybe focus on the road instead of hitting on that idiot right in front of us.”

you squawked in indignation at being called an ‘idiot,’ not exactly getting what else they were implying.

meanwhile, lowe startled, their hands tightening on the steering wheel. “what? i wasn’t—” they caught C’s glare in the rearview mirror and quickly relented. “right. sorry. road. eyes on the road.”

you glanced back at C, confused by the sudden shift in the mood. their jaw was tight, their arms crossed over their chest, and they avoided your gaze entirely. you thought about asking what their problem was but decided against it. the day was too early, and you didn’t want to start bickering already.

the destination turned out to be kerry park. you stepped out of the car and stretched, looking around with a grin. your group followed suit and, after taking your backpacks, trudged up the steep streets of queen anne.

the park was small, unassuming—just a sliver of land carved into the hill, a place where the city stretched out beneath you like a quilt stitched together by architects, lovers of symmetry, and disarray alike.

from here, seattle wasn’t a city so much as a panorama, framed by the wide arms of the sound and the occasional, fleeting glimpses of mount rainier, pale and insubstantial like the ghost of a mountain in the distance.

the rain hadn’t yet started, though the air smelled of wet concrete and petrichor, gave you an indication that it wouldn’t hold off for long.

darcy had already pulled her camera out, its strap slung around her neck as she wandered a few feet ahead, her voice rising and falling as she described the perfect angles for her shots. lowe was by your side, gesturing dramatically at the view as if they were a tour guide instead of a co-conspirator.

C, who had followed at a distance and was now leaning against a nearby rail, their arms crossed and their face set in a scowl.

“lacroix,” you called over your shoulder, your tone light, inviting. “you should come and look around with us. it’s cool.”

they raised an eyebrow, their expression unimpressed. “thrilling, i’m sure.”

lowe shot them a weird look but said nothing, their attention soon snapping to follow darcy on her photoshoots.

you turned fully to face C. “you don’t have to be so grumpy, you know.”

“i’m not grumpy,” they snapped grumpily.

you sighed, letting it go for now. instead, you wandered over to the railing where they stood, resting your elbows on the cool metal as you gazed out at the view.

“this place means a lot to me,” you began, glancing at C. they didn’t respond, but they didn’t walk away either, so you took that as permission to continue.

“when i was little, my dad used to bring me here. we’d spend hours looking at the birds. he had this old, beat-up field guide he carried everywhere. i still remember the smell of it—old paper and leather. he’d flip through it so fast, trying to identify every bird we saw. i think he liked the challenge of it.”

C’s features softened, almost imperceptibly, as they listened.

“there was this one time,” you said, your voice growing warm with the memory, “we saw a bald eagle perched on one of the trees. it was so close, you could see the feathers on its chest ruffling in the wind. my dad was so excited, he nearly dropped his binoculars in a muddy puddle.”

you laughed. C smiled. it was not their usual arrogant smirk, but something too genuine to be described without it being an understatement.

even darcy noticed as she was snapping pictures of passers-by under the railing where you and C were leaning against.

from behind her camera, she whispered, “i think i just saw a miracle,” before snapping a picture.

in the photo, you were looking up at the sky, your face alight with wonder. and beside you, C was looking at you—not the sky, not the birds, but you. their expression was so unguarded, so tender, it made darcy pause, her finger hovering over the shutter button.

“and it’s not just the view or the birds,” you continued, your voice picking up momentum as you spoke. “there’s this whole history to it. did you know the park was named after albert sperry kerry? he was this big real estate guy in the early 1900s. probably bulldozed a lot of land to make a fortune. but this place? this tiny slice of the city? he gave it back. said he wanted people to have a place to breathe, to see things differently.”

you glanced over at C, expecting the usual sardonic remark, but they were watching you with an expression you didn’t expect—soft, almost eager, like they could never get tired of you talking about things like these.

“i guess i just like thinking about that,” you said, your voice trailing off as you turned back to the horizon. “how even someone who takes and takes can give something so beautiful.”

for a long moment, neither of you spoke. then, quietly, C said, “you really are a nerd, aren’t you?”

you laughed, the sound bright and unexpected, and while you didn’t have C laughing alongside you, you had a distinct feeling that they were too distracted by a certain someone to do so.

lunch was a quiet affair. you all sat on a damp wooden bench overlooking the trees. you plopped down beside C without a second thought, your shoulder brushing theirs as you unwrapped your sandwich.

C stiffened, their gaze flicking to you in surprise.

“you don’t mind, do you?” you asked, already halfway through your first bite.

they shook their head, though they looked puzzled, as if trying to understand why you’d willingly sit next to them when lowe was right there, still buzzing with laughter after a joke darcy shared with them.

“thanks for listening to me earlier,” you said softly.

C cleared their throat, their voice rough when they replied, “no problem.”

you still gave them a smile despite their (apparent) surly mood before turning back to your sandwich.

C looked down at their own food, their expression unreadable, but there was a faint hint of pink dusting the tip of their ears.

maybe, C concluded, the whole practical aspects of the project could take a backseat for now. it seemed like they didn’t mind focusing on the people of the city after all—or maybe it was just this infuriatingly intelligent seattle native that they couldn’t stop smiling for.

you wondered if the extreme makeover crew ever came to take darcy’s house as an inspiration for a lot of their renovations. it was a gleaming two-storey in a neighborhood where the lawns were manicured to within an inch of their lives and the houses all had names like “birchwood” or “côte d’azur.”

her parents were insanely successful real estate agents and it showed in every detail, from the perfectly symmetrical hydrangeas flanking the front door to the wrought-iron chandelier hanging in the entryway.

her room was a microcosm of the house itself: spacious and spotless. honestly, it made you want to take your shoes off just to avoid dirtying the carpet.

the walls were painted a muted teal, lined with shelves holding an army of books and a smattering of knick-knacks from trips abroad. there was a citrus-like scent around, and her plush white comforter made her bed look like a stratocumulus cloud.

you all sat cross-legged on her floor, laptops and papers spread out in a semi-circle as you planned out your presentation. ‘soren’ by beabadoobee was playing from darcy’s bluetooth speaker and the conversation was punctuated with bursts of laughter—mostly lowe’s loud, carefree chuckles and darcy’s softer, chiming giggles.

C, true to form, sat slightly apart, their long legs folded under them, their expression guarded but not unkind. they were listening more than talking, as always, their gaze darting between everyone like they were trying to keep up without wanting to look too interested.

“okay, but what if we start with the history of seattle, like the gold rush and all that, and then connect it to how the city evolved into this tech hub?” you suggested, glancing at C for approval.

the green-eyed brunette nodded once, their expression unreadable. “that works. it gives us a narrative to build on.”

lowe sidled up to you with an encouraging smile. “you’re always full of good ideas. i swear we’re going to ace this project at this rate.”

you laughed lightly, not catching the undertone. “it’s a group effort, lowe.”

“yeah, lowe,” darcy said, rolling her eyes in an annoyed manner from her spot near the window. “you’re really laying it on thick.”

you tried to smile it off but you couldn’t help but notice that she seemed almost... angry at lowe about something. the latter, on the other hand, was not meeting her eyes at all.

as if that wasn’t weird enough, you caught C stiffening out of the corner of your eye, their fingers tightening around their pen.

the awkwardness simmered quietly for a while, manifesting only in the way C’s responses grew shorter, their gaze darting less toward the group and more toward the window, where the rain streaked against the glass.

it wasn’t until lowe leaned closer to you, their voice dropping just enough to feel pointed, that the tension finally broke. “y’know, if you ever want to grab coffee or something after all this, i know a great place near pike place. it’s got this cozy corner that’d be perfect for—”

“i’m getting some water,” C announced abruptly, standing so quickly their chair scraped loudly against the floor.

the room fell silent for a beat as C walked away, their footsteps echoing down the hall. darcy glanced at you, then at lowe, and then back at you.

“you should go talk to them,” she said softly.

“what?” you asked, surprised.

“just... go,” she urged, nodding toward the door. “i think they need to hear from you.”

you hesitated, your gaze flicking between the door and the others. but there was something in the way darcy looked at you, a quiet insistence that made you realise the urgency she was feeling. besides, with the way she turned her attention to lowe with a scathing glare, you did not want to get in between whatever they had going on.

so you stood, mumbling something about being right back, and headed for the kitchen.

you found C by the sink, their back to you, their hands braced against the counter. the faucet was running, though the glass they were holding was still empty.

“hey,” you said tentatively, stepping into the room.

they didn’t turn around. “what do you want?”

“i just... wanted to check on you,” you said, your voice faltering. “you looked kind of... i don’t know, upset?”

C finally turned, their chalcedony green gaze indecipherable and cagey. “i’m fine. you can go back to lowe now. you two were having such a great time.”

their tone was harsh, and it made you blink in surprise.

“what are you talking about?” you asked, genuinely confused.

C rolled their eyes, the motion exaggerated, almost theatrical. “don’t play dumb. it was obvious you two were flirting.”

you sighed, caught between disbelief and frustration. “we weren’t flirting. that’s probably just how lowe is. they were just being friendly.”

C let out a short, humorless laugh, the sound more of a bark. “you’re an absolute dunderhead if you believe that. lowe wasn’t just flirting for fun—they meant it.”

you felt heat rising to your face, your irritation bubbling over. “okay, first of all, stop insulting me. and second, would you please stop ruining everything with your assumptions.”

C flinched, just barely, but it was enough to make you pause. their voice dropped, colder now. “maybe i should’ve asked the teacher to switch groups. if my presence bothers you that much—”

“maybe you should have,” you shot back, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “then maybe we wouldn’t have to deal with you being a burden all the time.”

for a moment, the kitchen was deathly silent except for the faint patter of rain against the window. C’s face twisted, not with anger but with something closer to hurt, and you immediately regretted what you’d said.

“okay,” they said quietly, their voice flat. “i’ll let myself out then.”

before you could say anything, before you could take it back, they were already walking up to the front door and reaching for their umbrella, their movements mechanical as they stepped toward the door. the rain outside had picked up, a relentless downpour that blurred the edges of the world.

you wanted to say something, to fix the fracture you’d caused, but the words wouldn’t come out on time.

C stepped into the rain without hesitation, the door clicking shut behind them. you stood frozen, the echo of their retreating footsteps mingling with the sound of the storm.

your fists clenched and unclenched at your sides as you stared at the front door. you wanted to curse. to rewind the last five minutes and unsay every single word.

you ran a hand through your hair, muttering something unintelligible under your breath as you paced. your foot caught on the corner of the coffee table, and in your aggravation, you stumbled forward, knocking over the pile of photographs darcy had laid out so carefully.

“great,” you muttered, crouching down to gather the scattered pictures.

they were glossy and vibrant, capturing moments from your trip to kerry park just two days ago. you hadn’t paid much attention to them before, but now, as you picked up photo after photo, a pattern began to emerge.

in nearly every image, C was looking at you.

your fingers froze on a picture where their smile was so open, so completely unlike their usual self, that it felt almost like intruding on a scene you weren’t supposed to see. their dimples were unmistakable, softening the sharpness of their features in a way that made your heart skip a beat.

in another photo, they were standing slightly behind you, their chalcedony green eyes focused entirely on you as you pointed out something in the distance, completely oblivious to their adoring attention.

for a moment, you just sat there on the floor, staring at the pictures, the edges of the glossy paper dampening under your trembling fingers. then, as if pulled by an invisible string, you stood.

darcy had made her way to the living room and said something as you made for the door, but her words were lost to the roaring in your ears.

the rain hit you like a wall as you stepped outside, cold and relentless, soaking through your clothes in seconds. but you didn’t care. your feet moved on instinct, splashing through puddles as you ran down the street. it was a foolish thing to do, running in a storm like this, but every step felt like it was carrying you closer to something you couldn’t name but desperately needed to reach.

you didn’t know which way C went exactly, but you had a feeling.

and then, through the curtain of rain, you saw them.

C was standing under their umbrella, their posture stiff as they glanced down the street. the soft glow of their phone screen illuminated their face, but they weren’t scrolling or texting. they were waiting for an uber, probably. or maybe just waiting for the storm to pass.

you skidded to a stop, breathless and drenched. when they turned and spotted you, their eyes widened incredulously like you’d just teleported there.

“what the hell are you doing?” they demanded, their voice rising over the rain as they speed-walked up to you, umbrella in hand. they immediately held it over both of you, shielding you from the worst of the downpour. “have you finally lost your mind? you’re going to catch a cold!”

you were out of breath, your chest heaving as the water dripped from your lashes, but you didn’t care. “i’m sorry.”

C blinked, their mouth opening slightly as if they were going to argue, but you kept going. “i’m sorry for what i said. i didn’t mean it. you’re not a burden, C. i’ve never ever thought of you like that. the truth is—”

your words caught in your throat, the weight of them almost too much. but you forced them out. “the truth is, i’ve had a great time doing this project with you. i really didn’t mean any of it—about switching groups, about ruining things, you being a burden. i’m glad we got paired together, even if you drive me completely insane sometimes.”

“are you done?” they asked gruffly, though their tone lacked its usual edge.

you nodded sheepishly, your heart hammering against your ribs.

they sighed, lowering their gaze for a moment before meeting yours again. “i had a great time too. you... you made me see the city in a way i never had before. you made me appreciate it. i...” they sighed, “i was being too stubborn and i shouldn’t have given you a hard time with everything. and... i don’t mind your company, even if you’re way too dense sometimes to see what’s in front of you the whole time.”

the sincerity in their voice made your breath catch. right now, all you could do was stare at them and bask in the warmth they made you feel.

you admired the way their dark brown hair curled slightly at the edges, damp and clinging to their skin. the way the rain caught in their lashes, making their chalcedony green eyes glow as though a thousand hues were shifting like sunlight through sea glass. the way their fair skin seemed to glow faintly in the dim light, the sharpness of their cheekbones, the curve of their lips, soft and slightly parted.

they shifted under your gaze, their cheeks suddenly flushing pink.

“what?” they snapped. “why are you ogling me?”

but you didn’t answer. at least not with words.

before you could second-guess yourself, you stepped forward, leaning in until your lips brushed against theirs in a kiss that felt as inevitable as the rain falling around you.

C froze, their eyes wide in shock and disbelief before they pulled back, their fingers flying to their lips.

“i’m so sorry,” you blurted out, the heat rising to your face as you realized what you’d just done. your heart was sinking in absolute shame. “i—”

but before you could finish, C let the umbrella drop to the ground with a soft clatter. rain cascaded over both of you as they grabbed your face with trembling hands as they surged forward, their lips crashing against yours in a kiss that left no room for doubt.

the world seemed to fall away in that moment, leaving only the two of you, your hands tangling in the fabric of their rain-soaked sweater as their fingers threaded themselves in your wet hair. it was cold, sure, but their kiss was warm, searing, as if it had been waiting to catch sparks all along.

your clothes were drenched and your hair was practically plastered to your face, but it didn’t matter. nothing else mattered.

it wasn’t until the honk of a car horn shattered the moment that you finally broke apart, both of you panting as you turned to see the waiting uber that C had previously booked.

C’s face turned crimson as they also turned to look at the car, their expression mortified and exasperated at the same time.

“putain,” they muttered under their breath before grabbing your arm and their umbrella. they then shut it quickly and tugged you toward the vehicle.

the uber driver, to his credit, said nothing as you both slid into the backseat, though the faint twitch of his lips and the knowing look he gave you two in the rearview mirror didn’t go unnoticed.

“could this day get any more embarrassing?” C asked as they crossed their arms over their chest, staring determinedly out the window.

“uh huh,” you mumbled, still in a daze from what just happened.

“that was my first kiss, you know,” C muttered.

you turned to them, still not registering their words. “you’re so gorgeous.”

C scowled, their blush deepening. “shut up, you dolt. you’re not even listening to me.”

but when their hand crept over to cover yours, you couldn’t stop the goofy smile that spread across your face.

#i ended up making this too long heLP 😭#this was gonna be even longer but i had to pump the breaks ✋🏻#and yes darcy and lowe are dating in the canon story #if: the ballad of the young gods #interactive fiction #interactive novel #interactive story #twine wip #ro: c lacroix #ro scenarios

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spacexgrl · 3 months ago

Text

Bittersweet ! 🎀

mdni <3 you’re here pt 2

series masterlist 💋

~ in which Ellie breaks up with you and you go a little crazy ~

ex! ellie williams x fem! reader , abby anderson x fem! reader

college au!

warnings: angst, break up, cheating!!, cursing, toxic behavior, smut in future chapters, sexual themes<3 feminine and girly reader ,not proof read!!

You watched as Ellie stuffed her duffel bag with all her clothes out of your shared closet, at least you’d have more space for new clothes, you’ll definitely do some online shopping later to cheer yourself up.

You’ve stopped crying at this point, you decided that Ellie’s not worth your tears right now she doesn’t deserve to see you in this state, you won’t let her have it. Instead you wiped your heavy tears away and tried to stay calm … at least until she left.

Ellie shifted from her kneeling position as she finished packing her things up, she was ready to leave. She tried to get close to you one last time, a poor attempt to initiate a hug which you declined with taking a step back. What the fuck was that?? you thought, she couldn’t stop making this more awkward than it already was.

“I just want you to know that.. i want to try to be friends i can’t throw away everything we went through and i hope you feel the same way..maybe not now but one day ”

Her voice broke mid sentence, but you wanted to laugh in her face. You just threw away everything we had you asshole is what you wanted to say but you bit your tongue.

You wanted to scream at her

i did everything for you! I did everything to make you happy, i gave you my all and you did fucking nothing! Why couldn’t you end things sooner huh? Fucking coward all you did was waste my time and efforts Ellie, fuck i hope you’re happy fucking Dina every night just like you did on your little studying sessions.

“i know you probably hate me and i’m really sorry i just…fuck i fell in love with her you know? I didn’t meant to i swear i-“

She went on and on with her rambling, stopping when she noticed you weren’t listening to her bullshit anymore. All she said was that Dina was better than you, you got it like 20 minutes ago fuck.

“Goodbye Ellie”

at this point you pushed her out of the doorframe, she pleaded you to let her say goodbye properly whatever the fuck that means. You didn’t wanna find out. Ellie was still so immature in the head..poor girl will never know what she wants. Yeah that was probably it you tried to make sense of the situation but it was just stupid. It wasn’t your fault that she couldn’t love you the way you deserved, it wasn’t your fault that she needed to ruin what you’ve built for some short term fun.. you were her first kiss, her first time, her first love her first everything.

You guess her thirst for new experiences won against years of loving each other.

You remembered meeting Ellie when you were little, she’d always get into fights with kids that were mean to you on the playground. She was your hero and you believe that you loved her from the very beginning. She’d talk your ear off about space, dinosaurs and how she wanted to become an astronaut when she grows up and you believed in her, you always did.

The day before she asked you to be her girlfriend, Ellie introduced you to her Father, Joel. It was such a beautiful day you got along so well and he absolutely loved you. You were convinced that you were going to marry Ellie one day…how wrong you were.

Once Ellie was accepted into college you were the first one to know but Ellie.. Seattle is so far away.. you were so happy for her but you weren’t made for a long distance relationship. I know but.. i want to get into Aerospace engineering and it’s the best place for that babe.. come with me? Please?

just like that you applied for your dream major and got accepted in no time. You wished things would’ve gone differently..

You shrugged off the memories that were floating in your head as you plopped on your king sized bed, face down on your fluffy pillows. You groaned loudly and forced yourself up against the bed frame, grabbing your phone you left on the nightstand.

Mindlessly scrolling through instagram you stumbled across a picture of her.

It was a mirror selfie in a free weights section of some gym..she was in a tight competition shirt and grey sweats, boxers peeking out just a tiny bit as she flexed her big beefy arms..god you could almost count the muscles on her stomach.

Her blonde locks were tied in a loose braid, little strands framing her freckled face..okay that’s enough you thought as you clicked on her profile taking in every picture her hands are so big you bit your lip and rubbed your thighs together without even noticing has Abby Anderson always been this hot??

Of course she has..straight A student biology major scholarship basketball team captain daughter of one of the greatest neurosurgeons in the state Abby Anderson

Ellie never told you about her feud with her..she just told you to stay away from her at all costs. Babe it doesn’t matter just ignore her trust me she’s no good..i fucking hate her guts is what you recall her saying after Abby greeted you in the hallway like one time.

Lost in your thoughts you didn’t notice that you accidentally liked one of her newest stories oh no no no fuck!! you panicked and threw your phone on your bed far away from you.

ding!

please be Ellie you prayed to god that it was Ellie hoping she left something important behind but you were wrong.. maybe you should just end it all now…

after contemplating your entire life for about 5 minutes you dared to click on Abby’s messages

hey doll

heard about your breakup.. Ellie’s a dick anyway lol

want me to cheer you up?

🎀

pt 3

#ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #angst #breakup #cheating

252 notes · View notes

loaksky · 2 years ago

Text

— 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒖𝒔𝒄𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒆 | 𝒂. 𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏

emt!abby x clumsy fem!reader, fluff / angst / smut (mdni!), wc: 8.8k (abby makes me ill).

synopsis: abby’s recuperating from a rocky relationship. tending to you more than once has gotta be fate.

content warnings: language, 18+ content (MDNI!): fingering (abby & reader receiving), oral (abby receiving), standard emotional constipation, non-graphic depictions of injuries / blood. let me know if i miss anything! not proofread well!

tagging those who interacted with my interest post! @eden-nox , @feeeeebbb , @thecowardwrites , @dawn-bunni , @dykefromstatefarm , @kingofcrabs17 , @deadliebalboa , @caitlinisfruity , @matchabxba , @abbysidechick

main masterlist | tlou masterlist

THE FIRST TIME ABBY TENDS TO YOU is an embarrassing circumstance all its own. And not necessarily because you’d hurt yourself, but because of one meddling little sibling in particular.

It’s nearly 2am in the morning, a little brisk outside of the apartment complex, and Abby’s trailing behind her rotation partners up three rickety flights of stairs.

“Seattle EMS!”

The door’s flying open and a frantic girl no older than fifteen is ushering the trio in the apartment.

“It’s my sister,” she says quickly. “She cut her hand with a knife. Won’t stop bleeding.”

Abby’s observing her surroundings, eyes flitting around the space as they file quickly down the hallway, walls neatly littered with polaroids, picture frames, and various other decorations and knickknacks.

As they spill into the living room, Abby’s eyes settle on you, sitting on the coffee table in nothing but an oversized tee and some boyshorts.

There are tiny smears of red across your thighs, right hand applying pressure to your left palm with a wad of paper towels. One look at your face shows draining color and Abby’s setting the duffel on the floor.

“Need her rate and blood pressure,” one of her partners says. “Anderson, can you assess the damage?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Abby says, kneeling in front of you.

She swears she feels a jolt of electricity pass through her nitrile gloves when her fingertips brush your skin. You’re shaky, eyes droopy because you’ve never been great with blood.

“I’m gonna take a look,” Abby says softly, coaxing the paper towels away from you. “That okay?”

You nod, hair falling into your face as she turns your palm over to analyze the wound.

“Sheesh,” she whispers. “What’d you do?”

When you’re silent for a moment, warmth momentarily returning to your cheeks as embarrassment floods your system, Abby’s eyes swing to your younger sister who’s seemingly clocked the considerable tension between you and the hot EMT.

“We were making brownies,” she fills in helpfully. “Big sis was chopping up the nuts.”

One of Abby’s partners chuckles, the one filling out the paperwork, and Abby glances at you again, something niggling in the pit of her stomach when she sees the flustered way you bite your lip.

“Personally not a fan of nuts in my brownies, but that’s a hill I’ll die on.”

Abby’s trying to distract you, take your mind away from a the gnarly gash cut deep in your palm line. It works, she thinks, when you crack a small smile.

“Me neither,” you agree, and it’s the first words you say all night.

Your voice has a sweet rasp, one that makes Abby’s gut twist.

“Guess this means nuts really are a no go,” you say, hissing momentarily when Abby makes start with cleaning your wound.

For a moment she forgets you’re talking about brownies and your little sister’s searing gaze should be confirmation enough, but after gathering all of your important information and spending the next forty-five minutes cleaning you up, Abby’s being stopped in her tracks as they file out of the cramped living room.

Your little sister catches her as the two other techs swing into the third floor hallway.

“My big sis is gay, FYI,” she giggles mischievously. “Like real gay.”

You call her name, absolutely horrified.

Abby can’t help the smile that splits her face.

“Mmm, good to know.”

You’d barely recovered from that moment, still reeling nearly a week later after your failed sleepover party with your little sister that ended in the hottest tech seeing you in the worst condition possible.

And while you thank every force above that Abby hadn’t seemed too perturbed by your sibling’s antics, it’s still something that makes you rub the heel of your palms into your eyes and kick your feet in annoyance before bed.

But just when you think you’re finally getting over it, you cross paths again.

Fate has a cruel way of flexing its humor because you’re turning an especially crowded corner in the freezer section of Whole Foods when your toe catches the corner display.

“Shit!” you hiss, basket clattering to the floor.

Your jar of extra garlic-y marinara is rolling away and a few of your lemons are scattering between avoidant feet.

“Hey, you alright?”

And you’ve heard that voice before, familiar hum haunting your dreams for the past week and a half.

You look up just as the body associated with the voice crouches in front of you, pasta sauce in one hand and trio of lemons in the other.

Of course it’s Abby in all of her glory. Her hair is loosened from her braid, falling over her broad shoulders as she searches your face. She’s in her work polo, few buttons undone and belt somewhat loosened.

Something akin to recognition flashes over her features as she takes you in.

“Thanks,” you whisper when she rights your basket and carefully sets the runaway items inside.

“You’re always hurting yourself,” she teases, standing to her full height before offering her hand out to you.

For a moment you were caught up, so engrossed in seeing Abby again like a direct manifestation of your very fears (and a wet dream or two), that you hadn’t noticed that people were staring.

Your face is hot as your fingers brush her palm and she’s hoisting you up like you weigh nothing. When you shift your weight to the foot you’d tripped on, your face screws up in discomfort.

Abby’s scarily perceptive, equal parts because it comes with the job even when she’s off duty, and also because it’s you. She doesn’t know what’s so different about you, especially because she hasn’t bat an eye at another girl in the past seven months since her previous break-up, but she can’t take her eyes off of you. She’s certain her pupils are blown wide by now.

“Does it hurt?” she asks, steadying you with warm hands.

Abby has to force herself to glance up at you when she happens to notice the way your chest hitches, pendant on the dainty chain that rests between the divot of your collarbones glinting under the fluorescents.

“A little,” you admit.

Abby doesn’t hesitate to take your basket alongside hers and offers you a perfectly sculpted arm.

God you could actually combust, not only because you’re beyond embarrassed but because Abby’s too fucking hot for her own good.

“Easy,” she tells you as you move through the aisles slowly.

She’s guiding you to a quiet corner in the foodcourt, setting you gently against the bench before plopping down next to you.

Your lips part to thank her, tell her that you’ll just rest here for a moment before going about your day, but she’s lifting your leg into her lap and undoing the strap of your sandal wordlessly.

“Oh—”

Her gaze swings to yours.

“Gotta get a better look,” she tells you with an easy smile, fingers gentle around your ankle.

She starts rolling, testing your range of motion. When your expression pinches, she’s rummaging through her basket, only to produce a frozen bag of peas a few moments later.

“Doesn’t look like any bruising is forming and you’ve got your full range of motion,” she observes. “Just a rolled ankle. Nothing some ice won’t fix.”

You stare at her unblinking, nodding stupidly as she applies a slight amount of pressure with the frozen vegetables.

“I, ah—” you let out a low hiss and Abby shouldn’t lick her lips, but her mouth’s dry and the skin of your legs are like butter. “I think I’ll be okay.”

The concern that shades Abby’s features makes you squirm on the bench, ankle still propped in her lap.

“Did you drive?” Abby presses, and she knows that this is a bad idea.

The two of you could be on your way, paths officially untangling, but something inside of her is compelled, tugged hard at the sight of you.

“No…” you trail off sheepishly. “I walked.”

Abby’s lips part, words escaping her before she can stop and think twice.

“I’ll walk you home,” she offers.

“Oh, Abby, you don’t have to do that,” you say gently.

It’s like someone squeezes the air from her lungs at the sound of her name leaving your lips in a rasped hum, makes her wet her lips again because her mouth’s gone dry.

“You’re probably really busy, I don’t want to be a bother,” you add with a soft smile.

“You wouldn’t be,” she assures you. “Just wanna make sure you make it home safe.”

And it’s such a sweet sentiment, one that makes warmth bloom in your chest and your tummy. But there’s a dull ache, a squeeze that makes your thighs involuntarily press together. It’s barely perceptible and you hope to whatever’s in the universe that Abby’s not keen when it comes to body language.

The planes of her face are serious, bump on the bridge of her nose pronounced as you watch the set of her jaw. Fuck, did you want her bad, feel embarrassment creeping because if anyone nearby could intercept your brain, they’d find a slew of less than appropriate thoughts accompanying the more tame.

Without another word, Abby’s hooking your sandal back on, patting your shin gently before setting you right and gathering the combination of your groceries and hers.

You make a move to follow her, but she levels you with a warning glare.

“Stay put,” she urges. “I’ll take care of it.”

“But, Abby—” you splutter.

Your name is stern on her lips and another dull ache ebbs as she stands over you in her uniform, muscles stretching the fabric taut.

She’s off a moment later and after what seems like an eternity waiting almost helplessly, Abby returns with a few paper bags. She’s stuffing the receipt in her pocket and your expression shifts, lips pursing.

“How much do I owe you?” you ask as soon as she offers her elbow to you.

“Don’t worry about it,” she quips, body tensing in the slightest as she acclimates all over again to the feeling of you clinging to her. “Now let’s get you home.”

“Abby!” you whine, drawing her name out petulantly.

It’s so domestic, all of it. Carrying your groceries with your arms looped through hers and the two of you strolling down the sidewalk to accommodate your hurt foot.

“What?” she mocks, and you can’t help but smile.

“You’ll be late for work,” you say softly, unable to stop the passing observation of how sturdy she feels against you.

“I’m off.”

And something like relief, excitement, jolts at the thought. Makes you hush the rest of the way to your apartment building like the courage is still brewing.

The middle-aged woman that sits at her desk in the lobby and plays Candy Crush half of shift pauses to spare the two of you a passing glance as you walk in, eyebrows raising and lips twitching.

“Afternoon, Marianne,” you greet sheepishly.

“Good afternoon,” she parrots, rolling her lips to hide the amused grin threatening to spread.

Abby is none-the-wiser as her eyes flit around the lobby in search for the elevators.

The ride up ends up being shrouded in total silence save for the whirring of the lift’s gears and your shallow breaths. For a moment, Abby wonders if she’s overstepped. If she’s made you uncomfortable and read all the signs wrong.

As the two of you approach your door, the very one her and her coworkers had banged on a little over a week ago, she’s trying to come up with the words to apologize, tell you that she really just wanted to make sure you were okay.

(Even though she’ll only ever admit to herself that perhaps part of it was self-indulgent and the softness of your skin was like a high).

But you’re beating her to it, untangling to shift your weight to your uninjured foot and turning to face her.

“Do you…” You swallow and blink once, then twice, gathering the rest of your courage. “Do you wanna come in?”

Oh— Abby hadn’t been expecting that. She’d been expecting you to fumble with your groceries and close the door in her face for good. But now you’re looking up at her through thick lashes and a shy grin and all she can think to herself in this moment is that she’s a goner.

“I’m making dinner,” you add. “If you’d like to stay.”

Another slice of domesticity that has Abby’s wires crossing.

“Sure,” she agrees easily, and it takes everything inside of her not to teem with too much excitement when you turn to slot your key into the lock and the door springs open.

Your apartment is just how she remembers it from the little details she’d picked up the last time she was here. That same scent of lemons and what she thinks could be incense. Though it’d felt a little out of line, unprofessional to be too engrossed in her surroundings the first time, especially when her eyes caught a particularly suggestive photo among the wall hosting polaroids.

You’re with a group of girl friends, bent over in a too short skirt so that the swell of your ass is pressed to the girl in the center’s front. The shot gives a perfect eyeful of your cleavage in a tiny little triangle bikini top and the cherry on top is the pair of red cat-eye glasses sliding down the bridge of your nose as you wink at whoever is behind the camera.

You pause at the end of the hallway when you notice Abby’s no longer close behind.

“Looks like somebody knows how to have a good time,” she observes jokingly, but her cheeks are so incredibly warm because christ you’re beautiful.

You’re sheepish.

“Definitely retired from that life,” you tell her, and she notes that the neat sharpie dates back nearly six summers ago. “Now I like to bake with my little sister and injure myself.”

Abby can’t help the smile when you start gazing at all the other polaroids tacked into a heart formation on the crisp white walls.

“You seem like the life of the party,” Abby says, eyes lingering on another polaroid of you in what seems to be a dorm room with a joint pinched between your fingers, sporting a feather boa, a paper crown that says ‘birthday girl’ and those same red sunglasses.

You huff out a laugh.

“I wouldn’t say that...”

She wonders if she’ll see that side of you. So far you seem so quiet, reserved. It makes her want to peel away the layers and learn you.

The thought makes her blink hard.

“Kitchen’s this way,” you say after a few moments pass, turning on your heel to pad down the hall and swing left.

Light pours from where you flip the switch to the kitchen’s fluorescents.

Abby finds that the living room and kitchen is far tidier than the last time she’d been here, obviously cleaned after the entire baking debacle with your little sister.

My big sis is gay, like real gay. The words were like a subtle push. One that made Abby weigh the potential.

She’s setting the paper bags on the counter, making a move to go through the bags to help you put the groceries away, but your hands close over hers, slightly smaller and warm as you halt her movements.

“You’ve done enough for me,” you say, smile crooked. “Make yourself at home.”

And the household phrase is so cliche, but makes a split second reel of what making herself fully at home entails. She’d never admit it out loud, but part of it is bending you over the kitchen island.

She swallows the lump in her throat as you limp around the kitchen.

“You should rest your foot,” she says.

Your smile widens.

“I’m okay,” you assure her.

She leans against the counter, watching as you file everything in its rightful place. The muscles in her face involuntarily twitch when you stand up on your tip toes to throw a box of cereal on top of the fridge.

Your ass looks absolutely edible in your jeans and the low cut of your top shows the way your shoulder blades contract.

Definitely doesn’t help her blooming kitchen fantasies.

“You want something to drink?” you offer.

“Just water, please,” Abby clears her throat, gaze snapping up to meet the gaze you throw over your shoulder.

And she has to use the cute little glass you give her as a lifeline, nearly crushing the frosted green glass to bits multiple times over the course of you prepping dinner and the actual thing.

Because not only are you wickedly witty in a way that’s easily overlooked, but you’re phenomenal in the kitchen. Nearly drools watching you cut through your produce while chattering happily about growing up on the west coast and your college years.

You work through the building heat to set a painted ceramic dish piled high with pasta that Abby absolutely devours with nearly as much fervor as she likes to think she would you.

“Good?” you ask hopefully, leaning forward on your elbows.

“Better than good,” Abby says eagerly. “Great, fantastic.”

“Yay,” you cheer pure-heartedly and she could melt. Especially when she polishes off the plate and you sit up straight. “More?”

She easily agrees just for the sake of watching you.

“You should, uh—” You scratch the back of your neck nervously as she continues eating. “You should stop by again. If you, y’know, wanna…I cook a lot and there’s usually a lot left over.”

Abby could scream in excitement. She’s one intrusive thought away from reaching over the island to squish your cheeks and tell you that there’s literally nothing else in the world she’d wanna do than to see you again. Instead she forces her composure with an easy smile.

“I’d really like that.”

And the way she sits back in her seat, legs obviously spreading under the surface to stretch has you wiggling uncomfortably. The last few buttons of her polo have come undone, exposing a freckled expanse of skin that you’d love to sink your teeth into, and somehow, sometime while your back had been turned, she’d opted for undoing the rest of her loosening braid to throw it into a topknot.

The tension is palpable, thick enough to choke, and at times, as the two of you chat over the kitchen island, it has you stumbling over your words.

Even more so when you walk her to the door at half past ten. She’s leaning against the doorframe like she doesn’t want to leave, and truthfully, you don’t want her to. Want to spend as much time as you can caught up.

“I’ll call you?” you bite the bullet despite the tremor in your fingertips.

Abby nods, arm banded around her paper bag of groceries, a tupperware of leftovers nestled on the top.

“Yeah, please,” she hums.

And there’s one final moment of tension that clings between the two of you as she kicks off the doorframe and you close the door, back pressed against the wood.

After that night, the lines you dance blur impossibly. Always a will she, won’t she that seems to equally frustrate the two of you for vastly different reasons unbeknownst to the other.

You because you can’t get a read on Abby, always teetering over a steep edge trying to get her to bite your advances. But you know, know that there’s something there. Abby because she’s given more and more reason to fall into you with every passing moment, but can’t seem to take the plunge, entirely too freshly single to think about another commitment that could fail and leave her already mending heart beyond repair.

And she knows it isn’t fair, especially when the tension both romantic and sexual is absolutely brimming. You’re nothing like the partners she’s been with before, especially not her last girlfriend who was practically your polar opposite. You were gentle, sweet, funny. Good at practically anything you could get your hands on.

But something stalls her, keeps her from diving headfirst despite late nights laying on your living room floor talking about things both minute and infinite, cooking with you in the snugness of your tiny kitchen, even inviting you to outings with friends and vice versa.

So you take the plunge instead, one Saturday evening weeks after your first meeting, after spending long swathes of time tangled in each other’s presence.

You’re at a bar with her and her friends, slight buzz giving you the smallest nudge of confidence to cling to her arm. And god does Abby look good tonight, especially so, in a dark button up and fitted pants. She’s got her hair down, tickles your cheek when you nuzzle against her shoulder.

Her friends’ eyes are inquisitive, curious because touches between the two of you rarely linger for longer than a few moments, but you’ve been glued to her side all night. She doesn’t say anything though, doesn’t shrug you off, even wraps an arm around your shoulder when you return from the restroom.

So with a few more drinks and a little more liquid courage, you’re toeing a little over the line. You’ve pushed her hair over her shoulders, pressing your lips experimentally to the skin behind her ear. It’s a sensation that has her freezing up almost imperceptibly, but you can tell with the way her muscles grow taut under your fingers.

“What’re you doing, angel?” Abby asks quietly, span of her large palm gripping your thigh.

“Nothin’,” you hum, nose bumping her ear.

She breathes out a hollow laugh, tries to turn her attention to her friends who are obviously trying to ignore your displays of affection. But then your lips are brushing with more force against her collar and she’s sliding out of the stuffy booth to get some air.

Her resolve is obviously crumbling, even more so when she stands at the bar waiting for the next round of drinks and your arm bands around her waist, the other flattening below her belly button. When your pinkie slides beneath her belt buckle, she’s pushing off the counter.

And for a moment you think you’ve upset her when she gathers all the stout glasses and winds through the crowd to return to the booth you’d previously occupied.

You barely make it to the back of the bar when she’s emerging from the bodies and grabbing you roughly by the bicep.

“Abby—”

Her lips are slotting yours before you can apologize, and she tastes like cherries and liquor. Her arms wind around your waist, one hand on the small of your back, the other grabbing a handful of your ass.

“Abs,” you whisper breathlessly, unable to feel any embarrassment for taking up a high traffic aisle as she bites your bottom lip.

“Your place or mine?” she asks, voice gravelly. “Because you started something that I’m gonna need you to finish, princess.”

And your knees are jelly the entire trek to your apartment, insides liquid and tummy fluttering because a warmth has begun to pool in your panties. The way Abby can’t keep her hands off you through the elevator ride up makes it all the worse.

“You’re such a fuckin’ tease, y’know that?” she hisses in your ear as you miss the keyhole a few times. “For the last six weeks all you’ve done is toy with me and—”

Her breath hitches when she presses her front to your back and slides her hand up the skirt of your backless sundress to feel the stickiness forming between the plush of your thighs.

When you finally force the door open, Abby’s kicking off her shoes and her fingers are making work of her top buttons. You’re quick to swivel on your heel, shoving her roughly against the front door to push up on your tiptoes and pepper kisses over the curve of her jaw.

“Me?” you huff petulantly, an uncharacteristic gleam in your eye as your fingers are deft on her belt buckle. You unbutton her dress pants. “You waltz in here all the time looking so…so…fuckable.”

Abby nearly chokes on her breath.

“And you try to play coy, but I see right through you, Abby,” you say in such a gooey tone. She throws her head back and moans. “I see the way you look at me. The little things you do. You’re not subtle Anderson.”

And that’s new. Calling her by her last name.

Your hand’s down the front of her pants, under her boxers and you feel it. How wet she is. Feel the slick between her folds as you circle her clit.

“Oh, fuck,” she breathes, lips parted as she takes the sight of you in.

“Wanna make you feel good,” you sigh, biting your bottom lip as you stare up at her.

She nods eagerly.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you hum.

Her hands come up to cup your cheeks, leaning down to steal a few kisses before her hand’s wrapping around your wrist and pulling you from her heat.

“Open,” she barks, guiding your fingers to your lips.

You do so without argument, the taste of Abby making your eyes hood.

You make a noise in the back of your throat, and Abby’s walking you back towards your bedroom.

“You wanna make me feel good?” she asks, back of her knees hitting the edge of your mattress. She’s got you situated between her legs, shucking off her top and shimmying her trousers and boxers off in one go. “Then get to work.”

She’s spreading her legs, gaze locked as you lower until you’re eye level with her cunt. The pale moonlight that filters the window making it absolutely glisten.

You’re kissing the skin of her inner thighs, hands on her knees as you glance up at her, only find her with her bottom lip tucked harshly between pearly teeth.

“Want you bad,” you admit breathily, biting the taut skin before laving at it with the flat of your tongue.

All you receive is a shaky breath, seemingly knocking the words straight from her lips.

“Nothing?” you taunt, biting the other side.

Abby’s opening her mouth to say something snarky, but your lips are on her clit and your middle finger’s sliding in with ease.

“Jesus, fuck,” she whispers breathlessly.

And you’re smug as you eat her out, vibration of your moans rumbling through her core when she threads her fingers through your hair and tugs ‘til the tension in your scalp stings deliciously.

“Shitshitshit,” she chokes when you add another finger.

Under normal circumstances, she’d be embarrassed when her body locks up and her legs shake after what seems like only mere moments, but after she comes down and the fog clears, she’s wiping that smirk off your pretty face.

The sight is one to see, Abby leaned against your headboard with your back plastered to her front. The skirt of your dress is scrunched around your waist, flimsy straps knocked from your shoulders.

She’s merciless, thick fingers plugging you full.

“Ah, Abby,” you hiss, hand wrapping around her wrist.

“Can’t get over how tight you are.” She bites your earlobe. “You can barely take two.”

As testament, she stuffs you deeper. The squelch is downright filthy, your arousal pooling down your slit and onto the sheets. For a moment Abby’s pulling her digits from your heat, spreading her fingers in front of your face to show you the stringy strands of clear that web her knuckles.

“See that, princess? See how wet you are?” she teases, other hand taking a palmful of your tits while her mouth maps each blemish and mark with kisses across your shoulders and neck.

“So fuckin’ pretty like this,” she husks. “Wish you could see how pretty you look.”

You throw your head back, chest heaving as her fingers curl inside the spongy walls of your cunt and applies such a toe-curling pressure against the spot that has you seeing stars. It makes your back arch, knees twitching against the legs that Abby uses to keep your thighs spread.

“You gonna cum, pretty girl?” she whispers, blowing air against the shell of your ear as her ministrations grow sloppy.

You nod quickly, body tensing.

“M’gonna fuckin’ cum,” you whimper, “Please, Abs, don’t stop. I’m—”

Abby could cum all over again when your chest pushes forward into her hold, head lolling back against her shoulder as you let out a pitched whine that sounds a lot like her name.

“Fuck!” you swallow, falling slack against her sticky skin as you gush.

Her other hand drops to your clit, lazy circles making your pussy clench around the fingers still stuffed inside.

“That’s right, princess,” she huffs. “Cream all over my fingers.”

Your breaths stutter, pussy clenching as you let out a needy little moan.

“So good,” she praises. “Such a good girl.”

And you’re absolutely boneless, head knocking gently against hers as you push further into her chest. You feel her weight shift as she reaches, then the gentle feeling of her cleaning you up despite sleepy overstimulated protests.

It’s warm in your room as Abby slinks down the pillows and pulls the covers up. Her chin rests on top of your head as you cozy up to her, mumbling about how much you like her and how you’ve waited for such a moment.

You don’t remember the last thing you say before you doze off.

Abby does, though.

It keeps her up the entire night. Has her eyes blown wide as she stares up at the ceiling and the weight of the evening dawns on her.

Always wanna be with you. You’re my person.

And she doesn’t know how it’d gotten to this point. How did she let herself get so entangled with you? She’d always been aware that there’d been something there, that she was crushing and was almost a hundred percent sure you reciprocated, but this was far more than she’d anticipated.

It’s a step away from the ‘l’ word, and she’s not so sure it’s something she’s willing to fall into.

So Abby does what she does when she’s scared and she’s running. She’s replacing herself with your pillow as the sun comes up, heart squeezing when your cheek nuzzles against the fabric and your lips part to blow a breath.

She’s dressing as she makes her way to the front door, takes a final look at the polaroid wall that stares back at her as she tugs her shoes on, and slips out of the apartment building into the chilly Seattle air.

You’d been prepared for a lot of things growing up and into yourself. Had learned to swallow the bitter side of sweet, but nothing could have prepared you for the splintering feeling of Abby’s absence.

You wake up a few hours after she leaves, naked and hugging one of your pillows. The apartment is eerily silent as you wait in stillness for any signs that she’s just an early riser.

There’s no shower running, no clattering in the kitchen, no shuffling in the hall. And when you survey your surroundings, comforter wrapped around your shoulders, you suck in a deep breath.

Maybe she has work.

It’s a futile attempt to rationalize the situation, but you know Abby. Know that she’d leave a note, maybe a text, or—

You scramble for your phone, but deflate when you find a notification to water your virtual plant. For good measure, you open her text thread, but all that stares back at you is the confirmation that she was picking you up the night prior.

“Oh, Abby,” you whisper to yourself, something like sickness making your stomach twist.

The cursor blinks, keyboard clicking as you type and retype anything that’ll confirm that maybe you’re just being paranoid, reading into things too much.

So you settle on good morning 💘.

It’s almost instantaneous.

Read at 7:47am.

It takes a little under two weeks for Abby to surface again. Not without ample prodding. You’re a communicator, she realizes, as she sits outside of Jo’s Coffee and stares down at the string of texts from you over the past week and a half.

pretty girl: good morning 💘

pretty girl: have a good day at work

pretty girl: i made dinner if you wanna stop by

pretty girl: can i swing by the station with lunch?

pretty girl: just want you to know that i’m thinking of you

pretty girl: meet for coffee? wanna see you.

pretty girl: text me whenever you’re comfortable, i’ll leave you alone til you’re ready 💗

That final text is what makes her crack. Makes the guilt eat away at her. So she messages you when her shift is over.

me: jo’s at 4

pretty girl liked ‘jo’s at 4’

She looks up when the chair across from her scrapes against the concrete. You drop into the seat, fresh-faced and obviously newly showered. But she can see it in your eyes, the bags that puff like you’ve been crying.

And you have, even if you won’t admit it, because Abby’s the closest thing you’ve felt to what love could be like and these past two weeks have been agonizing as you try to pick apart every single facet of your situationship with her.

“How are you?” you ask, giving her a weak smile over the table.

“Good,” Abby lies, but you don’t see through her poker face and it stings, thinking that she’d been so unaffected by all of this.

You nod, fiddling with the fake leaves of the center piece.

“I missed you,” you admit shakily.

And fuck, did Abby miss you too, but she can’t find it in herself to face her fears head on. So she just nods, biting the inside of her lip.

“Didn’t miss me?” you tease, trying to make light of the situation.

“I don’t think we should see each other anymore,” Abby cuts to the chase, words leaving her lips like a shot that echos in the night.

It makes your ears ring, your brows furrowing as your lips twitch into a frown. Abby braces herself, knows what a brewing argument feels like. It’s sick to say that it’s familiarity, that sharp words and hoarse voices are a norm.

But you just shrink in your seat.

“Why?” you whisper.

Abby sucks in a deep breath.

“You don’t remember what you told me?” she asks like an accusation.

You blink.

“You told me that you wanted to be with me. That I’m your person,” she says.

And you wonder what’s so wrong with that. Especially when you’ve spent two months glued, when you were so sure it was mutual.

“I do,” you affirm softly. “You are.”

Abby squeezes her eyes shut, shakes her head.

“I’m not—” She clears her throat. “I don’t want a girlfriend. I don’t need the distraction. Especially not now with work and my personal life.”

Ouch. That had hurt, Abby calling her time with you and any subsequent moments nothing more a distraction.

“Oh.”

She doesn’t know why your response frustrates her, makes annoyance pinch the back of her brain as she takes you in, but it does. Full force.

“We’re better off as friends,” Abby says. “It’s easier, it’s—”

“Friends don’t fuck each other, Abby,” you say simply, and the calmness in your tone makes her upset.

She’s used to the shouting, to the arguing and being at each other’s throats in conversations like these. But you never fail to amaze her as you keep your composure.

“I have no intention of sleeping with you again,” she says stonily. “That night was mistake. I hadn’t been with someone in months and you were giving me attention and—”

In her frustration with the entire conversation, she hadn’t realized that tears were pooling in your eyes. That you were trying not to cry.

Her face softens when she notices.

“I’m sorry, I just—”

“You what?” you murmur. “What were these past three months, Abby?”

“I dunno,” Abby sighs in annoyance. “Two people enjoying each other’s company? We were drunk and—"

You simply nod, knuckling away the brimming tears before shrugging your bag over your shoulder.

“Where are you going?” Abby sighs when you stand.

“Home,” you answer quietly. “Whatever. Let’s just forget any of this ever happened.”

She grabs your arm over the table, opening her mouth to apologize again, but you’re shaking her off.

“Take care of yourself,” you tell her.

The days blur like the edges of a muddy watercolor.

You start to think that things could look up, that maybe Abby was put in your life for some reason you’ll uncover in the future. But the universe can be so cruel sometimes, knows exactly what to do to shatter the broken pieces you’d tried so hard to glue together.

It comes in the form of a night out nearly a month after you’d last seen Abby. She made no additional efforts, just left you wondering if you’d imagined it all, and your friends are especially tired of your moping.

It’s a surprise!

And you’re not really one for surprises. Especially not now, but they’re dragging you out, carting you across town. Your stomach sinks to your ass when you see the familiar neon lights. Feel your chest tighten on the trek up the stairs to the same bar that preluded your spiral.

You could throw up when you’re situated in a booth with your friends and you glance at the bar by chance.

Abby’s leaned against the counter top, looking as good as ever, but she’s not alone. There’s a girl that hangs off her shoulder, skin umber and eyes warm. She makes no moves to distance herself and you don’t know why you feel the anger begin to sizzle. Abby hadn’t been yours in the first place.

“What do you wanna drink?” one of your friends asks.

“Nothing,” you answer stiffly.

She follows your gaze to the countertop, sees the way your eyes burn.

You’d kept your situation with Abby private, didn’t want to jeopardize such a potentially good thing with your well-meaning meddling friends at such a fresh stage. But now that it’s soured, you stare openly.

“That’s her, isn’t it?” she asks, and your avoidance is answer enough. “C’mon, let’s show her what she missed out on.”

As it turns out, it doesn’t seem like much. Because she doesn’t even blink when you sidle up to the counter with your friend, three patrons between the two of you.

You’d always thought the two if you had a sixth sense for the other, but Abby’s oblivious to her surroundings, too engrossed in her drink and the pretty brunette hanging off her shoulder.

One of the bartenders goes up, asks what he can get for the two beautiful ladies, and your ears perk when her voice sounds. Nearly throw up the empty contents of your stomach all over the bar top when you see the way she slings her arm over the girl’s shoulders.

“Another vodka soda for my girl.”

She’s buzzed, you can hear it, but it’s the most sound declaration you’ve heard from her in the time you’ve known her.

You break away from the bar, and you run.

Abby feels like a shell of herself.

She’d gone out over the weekend, celebrating a visit from a close friend from the east coast. And it’d done a good job of numbing the pain for a little while, of taking her mind off of you.

But it’s Tuesday, the first day of her rotation this week and she hates that this feels worse than her previous break-up despite the unlabeled status of your relationship. You hadn’t even put up a fight, just took her rejection in stride.

It makes her feel infinitely worse, knowing you didn’t have it in you.

She doesn’t even realize she’s spaced out in front of the drink coolers of the convenience store after her shift when a voice snaps her out of it.

“S’cuse me.”

And she knows that voice. It’d been her greenlight all those nights ago.

Your little sister is brushing past her, going straight for the Body Armors and Gatorade. She must feel the way Abby stares because she’s side-eyeing the older girl from her post.

“Oh, it’s you,” she says, turning her nose up in the air.

Abby swallows.

“Hey to you too,” she says hesitantly.

Your little sister humphs, snatching the golden berry flavor and a yellow Gatorade. Abby takes a moment to glance at her basket, sees fever medicine and Tylenol among other things like instant ramen and Vitamin C gummies.

“Are you sick?” she asks.

Your little sister’s face screws up in annoyance.

“No, but my big sis is,” she says matter-of-factly.

That information makes Abby’s heart sink.

“She alright?” she asks carefully.

“She’s seen better days no thanks to you.”

And on a normal day, Abby would laugh because your little sister is witty, just like you. Can see where she gets it from. But right now, all she can imagine is you bed ridden and coughing up a lung.

“I can take a look at her,” Abby offers suddenly. “I—”

“Yeah fucking right,” your sibling scoffs.

Her language stuns Abby and this time she really can’t help but chuckle.

“You think this is funny?” she gripes. “You broke my sister’s heart. She’s been so fuckin’ sad because of you and you’re laughing.”

Abby sobers up quick, shakes her head.

“No, no, that’s not—,” she splitters urgently. “I– I’m laughing ‘cuz you’re just like her.”

Your little sister doesn’t look convinced, uses the back of her hand to wipe her nose as she levels Abby with an unrelenting stare.

“You suck, y’know that?”

“Yeah,” Abby sighs, hands flailing in defeat. “Trust me, I know.”

“And you’re a pussy,” your little sister adds childishly. “I know you really like my sister.”

Abby doesn’t even bother denying it, just stands there with a prepackaged sandwich that pales in comparison to your cooking and a diet soda.

“I do,” she affirms quietly.

“Then do something about it,” she says surprisingly. “My sister’s a catch, the coolest person I know. You’d be the biggest fucking dumbass if you don’t lock her down.”

And her candidness makes Abby crack a smile.

They stand there for a few moments in silence before your little sister is shoving the basket in Abby’s arms and prancing down the aisle.

As soon as Abby’s paid, black plastic bag in her grasp, she finds that your little sister has lingered outside of the convenience store.

She’s shoving a key in her hands.

“She’s too tired to open the door,” she says. “She likes extra lime in her ramen and runny eggs. Also hates swallowing pills so you’ll probably have to crush it up and put it in her water or something.”

“Who’s the EMT here?” Abby grumbles.

Your little sister pins her with a narrowed look.

“Don’t fuck this up Anderson,” she warns. “If Big Sis asks, I took a train to the mall to meet up with my friends.”

And just like that, she flounces away.

You’re asleep when she sneaks into your apartment.

She kicks her shoes off, sets the bag of convenience store goods on the kitchen island before padding through the living room to peek into your room.

Buried under a mound of blankets, just your eyebrows and forehead peek from the top as you snore softly. When she peels the covers away, she not only finds that you’re sweaty and your cheeks are flushed, but you’re wearing her favorite hoodie.

She hadn’t realized she left it here, but seeing you in it has her sinking to her knees by your bedside, chin resting on her bent arm.

“Hi, angel,” she whispers quietly, pushing the sweaty strands of hair from your face. “Missed you.”

You don’t budge, cheek smushed in your pillow as you snooze peacefully. And maybe she shouldn’t have come here, because all it’ll take is you asking her to stay.

She tucks the blanket to your chin, leans forward to press a kiss against your temple.

In the kitchen, she’s only reminded of how much she misses you. Misses this. She’d spent nearly everyday here during your time together. Brushed shoulders with you while you guys cooked together, leaned against the counter while you took extra care plating her food despite her protests of ‘we’re gonna eat it anyways’. You guys frequently laid out on the living room floor, snacking while watching movies, flipping through coffee table books or getting existential.

She’d made so many memories here, made a home out of you.

The thought stirs something emotional inside of her, makes tears prick the corner of her eyes as she rips open the packet of ramen and digs the seasoning sachet out.

Frustration wells as she goes through the motions in your kitchen by herself. Wonders why you had to go and be so fucking wonderful and make her fall for you.

She’s halfway through and angrily brushing her tears away when she hears your door creak open and your voice croak your little sister’s name in question.

When you stand in the doorway of the kitchen, her name is falling from your lips.

“Abby?”

You rub your eyes momentarily and Abby feels like the biggest piece of shit on the planet as you stand there with the hood of her pullover on, Christmas pajama pants and some crew socks.

“Hi,” she breathes.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, bewildered eyes bouncing around the kitchen as you take in your surroundings. The bags under your eyes are swollen, your lips chapped as you fidget in the archway.

“I ran into your sister at the convenience store,” she admits. “She said you were sick.”

“And?” It’s like you can’t fathom the fact that Abby would have any concern for you. Something like anger bubbles at the idea.

“What do you mean and?” Abby asks, eyebrows furrowing. “You’re sick and I… I care about you.”

There’s that normalcy again, that familiar feeling of emotions beginning to reach its boiling point. But she’s not angry at you. Could never be when all you’ve been is perfect to her. And perhaps in the back of her mind that plays the tiniest role, because you’re everything she could ever want, need, but she steady fucks it up every go around.

“Do you?” you whisper.

You look small, defeated, unable to meet her eyes.

“Of course I do, what are—”

“You really hurt me, you know that?” Your breath hitches. “You came into my life like fate, over and over again. Still do apparently. And you— You made me like you more than I’ve ever liked someone in my life. You let me see you, let me fuck you, let me… let me…”

It’s your first real display of heightened emotion. You don’t bother trying to hide your tears, or hide the way Abby’s built you up and ruined you these past four months.

“And then you just left.”

The lump in her throat nearly chokes her breathless.

“I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, y’know?” you continue and Abby’s hands tremble. “That maybe you really just needed the time for yourself, but then I saw you, and—”

“Saw me what?” Abby interjects. “Where?”

“At the bar,” you squeak. “She’s really fucking pretty, and I hope she makes you—”

“What are you talking about?” Abby grills, taking a step towards you.

“If you didn’t want to be with me, if you didn’t feel the way I felt about you, you could have just said that,” you whimper, dashing the tears away in embarrassment. “You didn’t have to make an excuse about not wanting a distraction.”

“I’m so lost right now,” Abby says. “I—”

“I saw you at the bar this weekend,” you tell her straight. “You were with a girl, called her yours.”

And that floors her. She’s almost a hundred percent certain she would’ve felt your presence a mile away, But as you reveal that you’d only been meters away from her, the closest you’ve gotten in weeks, it makes her gut pinch.

She wracks her brain, tries to recall that weekend, tries to think of any woman who’d give you the idea that she’d choose anyone but you.

She draws a blank at first, but then she remembers the bartender’s passing comment.

You and the birthday girl are too sweet.

Abby had fake retched and Nora’d drawn out an exaggerated ewwww as the bartender set the vodka soda before them.

She’d been far too engrossed to realize that you’d been in the vicinity. But she’s not so sure she would’ve done much to take advantage of your presence if she had.

This is her first act of courage in months and she’s falling head first as she crosses the berth between the two of you.

When she stands a few inches away, you look up at her, thick lashes wet and nose snotty. You look like a mess, but Abby’s always thought you were beautiful.

“Nora’s not my girlfriend,” is the first thing she says.

You think you should feel relief, some semblance of hope flickering, but this feels a lot like uncertainty and you hate the limbo.

You don’t say anything, just wipe your nose on the back of your hand.

“I’m sorry,” Abby whispers, hands coming up to grasp your shoulders.

You make a noise in the back of your throat, corners of your mouth turning down in that telltale sign that you’re not done crying yet.

“C’mon, angel, stop crying,” Abby says weakly and the nickname makes your stupid heart flutter.

Her thumbs are brushing underneath your eyes, over the puff of your eyebags before she’s crushing you to her chest, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other winding around your shoulders to keep you anchored.

Your arms wrap around her waist, taking in the scent of her pine body wash and the softness of her detergent.

“I hate you,” comes your muffled hiccup.

Abby only hugs you harder.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

And perhaps she deserves that, but you’re pushing your face further into her chest and she barely hears you.

“I missed you,” you admit a second later, back of her work shirt fisted between nimble fingers.

A shuddering breath leaves her at the admission, makes her body relax as the two of you stand at the edge of your kitchen.

“Missed you,” she murmurs, savoring the way your body feels melding against hers for the first time in weeks. “Fuck, I missed you so much.”

“You’ll stay?” you whisper.

“Yeah, yeah,” she assures you. “I gotta go home and get some stuff, but of course I’ll stay.”

Your hold tightens and your head shakes.

“I mean stay, Abby,” you clarify. “With me. Don’t…don’t run away anymore.”

Her breath catches in her throat, a new onslaught of tears choking her as she nods fervently.

“Yeah,” she croaks, kissing the top of your head. “M’not going anywhere.”

BONUS

You don’t know where the time goes. It all seems to blur together in the moments you spend with Abby, and before you can wrap your mind around the fact, a full year has passed the two of you by.

“You look so pretty,” Abby comments, sitting on the edge of your bed with her legs spread.

She’s watching you through the mirror, blue eyes piercing and unblinking.

You don’t think you’ll ever get used to the way she always seems to make you warm.

“Thanks,” you mumble, unable to hide the smile that twitches while you screw the cap back onto your lipgloss to take one final look at yourself.

“Not gonna say it back?” Abby feigns annoyance, pushing up from her seat to wrap around you, one hand bracing against the dresser as her chin drops to your neck.

“Then it’d be insincere,” you deadpan, head tilting to rest against hers.

She humphs under her breath, shamelessly sliding a hand up your dress.

You stop her fingers in their tracks, pushing off from the drawers to create space between the two of you and alleviate the warmth beginning to bloom behind your navel.

“We’re gonna be late for Nora’s birthday,” you quip, fingertips barely brushing the doorknob before Abby’s hands are gripping your waist.

She’s hoisting you to throw you against the mattress playfully.

“She’ll survive if we’re ten minutes late,” Abby assures you wolfishly, climbing over you to cage your body between her thick thighs.

“You’re gonna mess up my hair,” you whine, pushing at her shoulder.

Abby captures your wrists in one hand, other tilting your chin up to slot her lips between yours. The taste of the fresh coat of lipgloss you’d just applied makes her smile against your mouth.

She relaxes a fraction when you reciprocate, tongue languid. A noise of approval rumbles from her chest when you nudge her onto her back and bite down on her bottom lip. With a wicked glint in her eyes, she’s pulling away, hands resting against the curve of your ass.

Now you’re straddling her, manicured hands mapping from her waist to her shoulders to feel the ripple of taut muscles underneath. She’s tense, obviously waiting for your next move with bated breath and kiss bitten lips.

But then you shift teasingly over her zipper.

“Let’s go,” you hum, pressing a final kiss to her jaw before climbing off of her anticipating figure. “No dessert before dinner.”

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson fic #abby anderson #abby the last of us #abby tlou

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themostlesbianever · 2 months ago

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College AU Sevika x reader chapter 2

A/n: I have to warn you guys this chapter feels very bland and meh to me, I have many ideas but those only work when Sevika is actually your friend so I didn't really know what to do

I've also decided that theyre at a college in seattle for info dumping reasons lol (im not basing it on a spesific college that is in seattle)

Throughout this fanfic you'll realise im writing this fic partly just to info dump. I'm gonna work a lot of my interests into this fic trust🙏

more parts

(also pls ignore any typos or forgotten capital letters🙏)

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You wipe away a few stray tears with your fingers and suck in a deep breath, closing your eyes, then breathing out slowly. You start making your way back to the dorm building, you had promised to meet up with your best friend Ekko. You’ve been friends for ages and did basically everything together. Including going to the same school.

You make your way back to your dorm, giving the door a knock before entering the room. Sevika is sitting on her bed mindlessly scrolling through her phone, she looks up at you. “Sup” she says, tilting her chin upwards slightly in greeting. “Hi, I’m just coming to get my phone” you pause for a second. “I’m going to meet up with a friend. He’s going to show me his room, and after that he wants to see ours, if that's okay with you”.

“Yeah that's fine” she answers and you grab your phone. “alright, see you in a bit then”. You leave the room and quickly check your messages. Ekko had sent you one earlier telling you which room he was in and you read it again twice to make sure you don't go knocking on the wrong door. You then make your way over to the elevator.

The building was divided in gendered floors, the first two for men and the second two for women. You step into the elevator and press the button for the second floor.

A soft ding sounds and the elevator doors slowly open, revealing your friend to you. He’s dressed in some simple black jeans that are far too big for him, they’re being held up by a white shoelace. He’s also wearing a simple white tank top with a leather jacket thrown over it, and black converse.

“Hey there stranger” he greets you with a big smile. He throws his arms out and embraces you, you encircle his torso just under his arms and pat his back a few times. “Hi dude, long time no see” you giggle after he lets you go. “Ha ha” he says sarcastically, you had seen eachother last week. “I know, im hilarious” you giggle and he playfully shoves you.

He leads you over to his room, when he opens the door your eyes widen a bit. “WHAT, this is bigger than my room”

“Sucks to suck I guess” he shrugs. Now it's your turn to playfully shove him. You make your way further into the room, then you sit down on his bed. "That's sexism” you joke, Ekko chuckles at that. You continue to look around the room, taking in all of Ekko’s decor.

He’s got a few, probably fake, plants on the windowsill. Plain white bedding sits on his bed, along with an owl shaped throw pillow, and a fluffy beige blanket. He also has various posters and photos stuck to his wall, including the same spiderman poster that hung on yours. He has various trinkets sitting on his desk. You recognise one of them to be a small stuffed owl you had given him quite a while ago. ”Dude, you still have this?” you ask him, picking the small owl up and petting it softly. “Yeah, why would I get rid of it?” he smiles at you as you put the owl back in its original spot.

Then your eyes wander over to the other side of the room, which remains undecorated. “Is your roommate just extremely boring?” you question and he tells you they haven't shown up yet. “Huh strange, I'm pretty sure everyone should be moved in already by now” you comment and he just shrugs his shoulders. “Lets see your room then” he says excitedly.

When you reach the door of your room you knock, alerting sevika that you’re here. “Come in” a muffled voice calls from inside. You push the door open and let ekko in. He looks around the room for a bit before his eyes land on your roommate.

“Ekko, this is Sevika, my roommate.” You gesture to sevika. “Sevika, this is Ekko, my best friend of like 11 years.” you announce, Sevika gets up to shake Ekko’s hand. “Dude you look extremely cool” he says, Sevika gives him a small smile. “Thanks man, you too”.

Ekko takes another look around your room, his eyes falling on your decorated wall. “Oh my god, you have pictures of toothless”. He walks over to the wall to inspect the pictures of your beloved cat up close. Sevika shifts her gaze from ekko to you. “You named your cat after a fucking dragon?” she questions, a glint of amusement in her eyes.

“What?” you exclaim, your voice taking on an offended tone. She lets out a small chuckle at this. “I’m not judging you” she reassures.

Ekko makes his way over to the body length mirror you put up. “C’mere” he says and you walk up to him. "What's up?” you ask. “We need to take a picture, obviously” he says while taking his phone out of his pocket. You drape your arm over his shoulder, bringing your hand up to the back of his head and putting up two fingers. “Really, bunny ears?” he asks. You simply nod and smile.

Ekko snaps a picture and holds his phone up so you can see it. “That's cute, can you send that to me?” you ask him, already knowing the answer. “Of course" he replies.

“Hey sevika, you want a picture with us?” Ekko asks Sevika, who has been quietly watching the interaction. “Why not?” she replies. She walks to the mirror and stands behind the both of you. “Damn you’re tall” Ekko says, eyeing sevika through the mirror. She just shrugs.

Ekko takes another photo, showing it to both of you to get approval. “Oh Sevika I should get your number” you say. “To send the photo and, like, for other stuff obviously”.

“Oh yeah sure man” she says and you hand her your phone, she puts her number in and hands it back to you. You thank her and take a quick glance at the time. “Ekko you wanna go exploring and get some lunch?” you ask

“You already know the answer” He replies and starts making his way to the door. You look over at sevika. “You wanna come with?” you ask her. “Oh no that's okay, a friend of mine lives off campus and i'm going to their place in a bit” she replies and you simply nod at her before walking out of the room behind Ekko.

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Tag list: @0eatmysoulll0-blog @misswynters @vikaswife @ladycupa0-0 @d3adbrainer @vintage-karma @gravegoer

#sevika #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika fanfic #fanfic #my post #text post #arcane x reader #writing #fic

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sturnioloshacker · 1 year ago

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virgin no more - a vinnie hacker smut

a/n: requested by anon; lowercase intended

cw: softdom!vinnie, sub!reader, praise kink, pussy eating, vanilla sex, soft sex, creampie, smut. this is an nsfw short, everything written is fictional. interact or don't, i'm not your mother

summary: you lose your virginity to your best friend vinnie

i’ve been thinking about it for so long and i feel that this time, it’s right. for years now, i’ve been a virgin. sure, i’ve had my fair share of kisses and makeout sessions in my past relationships, but i’ve never had sex with my past partners. one, i wasn’t ready and two, i’m terrified of losing it to someone i don’t trust with my heart and soul. but lately, i’ve been having thoughts about losing it to my best friend vinnie. vinnie and i have been best friends since his high school days in seattle. we both moved to la when he blew up on tiktok and now we’re both living in his new recently brought apartment.

it’s not my fault though! have you seen the man?! from his chiseled jawline to his perfectly sculpted god-like body that has been carved by the angels in heaven, he’s just simply irresistible. not only that, his personality is truly one of a kind. the sweetest, most caring human being on planet earth who wears his heart on his sleeve. the only problem is, he’s my best friend and i’m scared that he may not feel the same way that i feel about him. what if I ruin my friendship with him? that would be super awkward and embarrassing. then again, he hasn’t ruined our friendship every time he brings a girl home and fucks her senseless that she basically stumbles out of the house the next morning.

after taking the time to build up some courage, i decide it’s time.

“hey, vin. can i ask you something?”

“of course, what’s up?”

“this may be super awkward and embarrassing and you don’t have to answer, but what’s it like not being a virgin?”

“woah, um. it’s great, i guess. why you asking?”

“i guess what i’m trying to say is that i’m ready to lose my virginity.”

“that’s great, go for it!”

“i want to lose it to you.”

the silence in the room is so thick, you wouldn’t be able to cut it with a knife. vinnie and i sit opposite each other, our minds racing over what just transpired. great, i just ruined the most amazing friendship i could ever ask for.

“you want me to take your virginity?”

“yes. i trust you with my whole life. and i love you so much.”

“i love you so much. can i please kiss you?”

“please.”

he slowly leans in to capture my lips in one of the most passionate kisses i’ve ever had. the kiss is soft yet so hot. i feel him tug at the bottom of my shirt, wanting to take it off. i reach down to take it off my body, his eyes zoned in on my chest. his kisses move to my chest, kissing the tops of my tits before making his way down my cleavage. i unclasp my bra and remove it, letting it drop to the floor.

“they’re so pretty, oh my god. can i please touch?”

“of course, vin. they’re all yours.” i smile at him.

vinnie groans before using his big, strong hands to grope at my tits. squeezing, massaging, licking, sucking and biting, all of these combined had me weak in the knees. he’s making me feel so good right now, and we haven’t even had sex! i drop to my knees in front of him, the feeling of being so aroused is making me dizzy. my eyes are level with vinnie’s growing bulge. he looks big, is he going to fit? oh my lord, he’s not going to fit. i start pulling down his sweats, wanting to desperately see what he’s hiding. i release him from the confines of his underwear. jesus christ, he’s not fitting. there’s no way that all of THAT is going to fit inside.

“like what you see, princess?” he smirks.

“yeah i do. it’s so… big.”

“as much as i want your mouth around it, tonight’s about you.”

he grabs me by the back of my thigh, scooping me up into his arms. he gently throws me onto our bed before crawling up to me and placing a sweet kiss on my lips. he moves down my body, stopping at my panties. he looks up at me, a cute yet seductive smile plastered on his face.

“can i take these off, sweetheart? wanna see what i’m working with.”

“yes.” i breathe out, my heart racing and head spinning

he slowly removes my panties, gasping at the sight in front of him. he tosses my panties to the side before licking a stripe up my pussy with his tongue, earning a moan from me. i feel his tongue suck and lick at my clit, the feeling of pleasure rushing through my veins.

“you okay, sweetheart?”

“yes, please keep going. it feels unreal.”

vinnie continues his actions, only this time, he speeds them up. my little bundle of nerves that have never been touched by a man before are so alive and so sensitive, i can barely form any words now. i suddenly feel a tightness in my stomach. is this what i think it is?

“vinnie, i-“

“you close, baby?”

“i don’t know. my stomach hurts though.”

“you’re close to having an orgasm. want me to keep going?”

“yes! please don’t stop! i need to know what it feels like.”

vinnie sucks and licks my clit a little more before i feel a strange rush through my body. my legs shake at the intense pleasure, my stomach contorts and my pussy clenches at fresh air. my breathing is rapid but is soon calm as he slowly stops his actions.

“you did such a good job, baby. i’m so proud of you. you ready for my cock now?”

“i think so.”

“if it hurts, we’ll stop okay? i promise to go slow and make you feel good.”

“okay.”

vinnie lubes his cock up and jerks it for a bit before aligning it at my entrance. he slowly pushes in, the pain almost unbearable.

“want me to stop?”

“no, i’m okay. you can keep going.”

he pushes himself all the way in, bottoming out when he’s fully inside. we both moan at the feeling. i slightly adjust to make sure it fits and won’t destroy me. i nod my head, signalling to vinnie to move. he starts to slowly rock in and out of my pussy. the pain instantly becomes pleasure again as he fucks my walls. i wrap my legs around his waist, pushing him closer to me. he leans over, hovering over my figure before placing a kiss to my forehead.

“oh vin, you feel so good. i love you.”

“i love you more, sweetheart. god, i’m so glad you chose to lose your vigirnity to me.”

our lips connect in a passionate kiss. vinnie wraps his arms around my back, holding me close so that our chests are touching. he continues rocking into me and making me feel oh so good. i feel that strange rush coming back again, this time it’s stronger and right on the edge.

“oh vin, i’m close.”

“yeah? cum for me, pretty girl, cum on my cock for me.”

vinnie thrusts one last time and i feel all the same sensations from when he ate me out.

“oh fuck, pretty girl. you did so good, i’m gonna cum now okay?”

“please cum inside me, vincent. i need you so bad.”

vinnie moans at my words and it doesn’t take him long before he’s shooting ropes up and around my walls. i moan and whimper at the warmth inside me, watching it as it slowly leaks out. he pulls out and flops on the other side of the bed.

“that was amazing. you’re seriously the best.”

“glad you enjoyed, princess. now let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?”

he kisses my lips before scooping me up into his arms as we go to clean up our mess. i can now say that i’m a virgin no more and that my virginity has been taken by the one and only vinnie hacker.

#vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker smut #vinnie hacker imagine #vinnie hacker fanfic #vinnie hacker x reader

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di-writes-stuff · 2 years ago

Text

The Very First Night

Derek Shepherd x fem!Reader

One Shot

TW: Literally nothing. I’m taking a quick break from Evermore because I am so in love with this man I need to write some fluffy shit for him. No use of Y/N

A/N: This is based around the whole prom episode. I needed some self indulgent fluffiness. Also yes I’m ignoring both Meredith and Addisons existence in relation to Derek. Fight me.

When the chief announced that Seattle Grace Hospital would be holding a prom, you would have thought he was kidding if he didn’t look so deadly serious.

You made a point not to look at a certain man when he announced it.

Derek Shepherd has made it his ultimate goal to get you on a date with him.

Under any other circumstance, you would have said yes in a heartbeat. Hell, you would have been praying for him to ask the second you met him.

He’s smart, he’s funny, he’s a neurosurgeon for God’s sake, not to mention that he’s absolutely gorgeous.

Derek Shepherd is perfect.

He’s also your boss.

The one and only reason you aren’t leaping at the prospect of a date with him.

The label of “slutty intern sleeping with her boss to get ahead” isn’t an appealing one.

But still, the man is very convincing.

You’re doing charts when he sidles up to you, that smile you always stare at a little too long plastered on his face.

He leans against the counter your working on, watching you while you work.

And desperately try to stay professional when you look at him.

“Do you need something, Dr. Shepherd?” You use his title pointedly, a reminder of the barrier between the two of you.

He couldn’t care less.

“Just some information.” He speaks casually, shrugging as he begins to walk, and you follow him without a second thought.

He’s whittling you down, and you both know it.

“About…?” You try to force a smile off your face, but it’s no use. He’s infectious. His flirting. His smile.

Him.

You’re not somebody who fails. You’re an incredible doctor, you’re going to be an incredible surgeon. You were always considered an academic weapon, acing almost every class you’ve taken.

You don’t fail.

But when it comes to resisting Derek?

You think you’re about to.

“You got any plans for prom?” He speaks smoothly, comfortably, like he’s not a grown man asking a grown woman to the prom.

Like he’s not praying you’ll say yes.

You laugh, looking down at the ground instead of his eyes.

His beautiful eyes.

“I guess I’m coming, but no, I don’t have plans.” You place a special emphasis on plans. You both know what plans means.

A date.

Derek smiles, brushing your side gently, getting you to look back up at him, your gaze softening when you see him.

“Great, I’ll pick you up at nine.” He grins at you, looking very pleased with himself.

You go to speak, and you plan on saying no before you do. Explaining for what feels like the millionth time that nothing can happen between the two of you.

And hating every second of it.

But instead, it’s like your brain does you a favor, and speaks before you can decide what to say.

“Okay.” Your voice is a little breathy, and obviously nervous.

Shock passes over his eyes for a second before the smile on his face grows wider, reaching his eyes and making them sparkle.

Really, how the hell were you supposed to say no to that?

Your hands brush for a moment, his fingers sweeping past yours, sending your heart rate up.

He says something before walking away, but you aren’t really paying attention, more panicking at what you just got yourself into.

You’re going to prom with Derek Shepherd.

You never planned on taking this very seriously. You were just gonna throw on your dress from senior year, slip into some heels, and head back to the hospital.

But now?

Needless to say, you’ll be spending more time getting ready.

……………………………………………………………………………………

Two hours.

You left work early, and spent two damn hours getting ready for the prom.

All because of Derek Shepherd.

He’s the bane of your existence.

You can’t think around him.

You can’t think about much besides him.

When you’re with him, your happier than you’ve ever been.

Everything about him just makes you adore him more. His personality, his talent, his skills, his smile, his laugh, everything.

He might just be the love of your life.

You brush out the carefully placed curls in your hair, watching as they fall over your shoulders in waves. Your old prom dress still fits you, thank God.

The satin fabric hugs your waist, thin straps showing off your collarbone and shoulders.

A slit runs up from the bottom of the flowing skirt of the dress, stopping around the middle of your thigh.

Even you have to admit you look good.

You slip on your heels when you hear a knock at the door, and you swear you feel your heart stop.

You look at the clock by your bed.

9:00 exactly.

He really might be perfect.

Meredith peeks her head into your room, you’re living with her for the time being.

She smiles when she sees you despite how uncomfortable you look.

You haven’t been on a date in months, and you don’t think you’ve been this gussied up in years.

“You look great. I’m sure Derek’s gonna agree.” She teases you, all your friends have known you have a thing for Derek since you started your internship at Seattle Grace.

And now that you finally caved and said yes to a date with him?

You’re gonna be hearing a lot of shit about it tomorrow.

You can’t help but feel like this’ll be worth it.

“Thank you, and shut up.” Meredith laughs at your attitude, heading downstairs to her boyfriend, Finn.

You follow behind her, exhaling nervously before opening the front door to find Derek standing in front of you.

Derek, decked out in a suit and tie.

His hair is perfect, as usual.

And in his hands, a bouquet.

A bouquet of your favorite flowers.

You mentioned it once. A simple, offhand comment. You can’t even remember how it came up. But he did.

He remembered. He cared.

He’s making it really hard for you not to fall in love with him.

For a second you recognized an expression on his face you’re not sure you’ve seen before. He looked nervous. That was before his classic McDreamy smile appeared on his face when he saw you.

“Did I get it right?” He asked, handing you the flowers.

You’re blushing like a schoolgirl, honestly a bit giddy. Here you are, getting flowers, being taken to prom by the most handsome man you’ve ever seen.

You nod, taking them and stepping inside to let Derek in.

“Yeah, yeah you got it right.” You speak quieter than you usually would as you quickly place the flowers in the vase, smiling widely when you feel his eyes glued to your every move.

You turn around to find Derek watching you, a sweet smile on his face, a look in his eyes that means more than just simple attraction.

He admires you carefully, not as a painting, a still, lifeless thing meant for him to enjoy, to examine, to scrutinize.

No.

He admires you like a worshipper in church.

He adores you, and the look in his eyes might as well be a sign around his neck that reads ‘I’m in love with you.’

“You’re beautiful.” His voice is breathy when he speaks, and the words cause a vivid blush to rise on your face.

You utter your thanks shyly, stepping towards him and taking his hand when he offers it. He regains his composure quickly, slipping back into the flirty pattern you two follow.

Still, the basis of it, the reason why all of this is happening.

It’s not flirtation. Not attraction. Not even because you like each other.

It’s more than that.

It’s love.

He leads you to his car, you’ve been in it a couple times before, on the way to dinners you swore weren’t dates, nights spent with one another when you were still adamant on refusing to develop feelings for your boss.

Or, adamant on pretending not to, at least.

The car ride isn’t terribly long, but somewhere in the middle of it, your hand is on the middle console when Derek’s comes down from the wheel, landing on top of yours.

You don’t move, and he takes the opportunity to interlace your fingers, earning a smile from you that makes him wish he could freeze time and stay in this moment forever.

“Thank you, for asking me.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, and you look over at him. His eyes stay glued to the road, but you watch as the corners of his mouth lift to a smile.

“Thank you for saying yes.” He quips back, looking over to you when you stop at a red light.

You laugh for a moment before responding. “It was about damn time.”

The moonlight glistens off his face as he laughs, every detail about him making you fall for him more.

He’s mesmerizing, and you can’t bring yourself to take your gaze off of him.

You’ve got it bad.

“Yeah, it was.” Theres still laughter lingering in his voice when he speaks, and you think you could melt right then and there at the sound of it.

It’s not long after that when you arrive at the hospital. You go to open your door before Derek does so for you, going to the effort of helping you out.

“What a gentlemen.” You say teasingly, letting your hand stay clasped in his as you walk into the hospital.

“I’ve been trying to land a date with you for months, I’m not gonna screw it up now.” He smiles down at you when he speaks, scanning your face. Pieces of hair fall to frame it, and he brings his free hand up to brush them away quickly, knowing the affect it has on you when you blush and look away quickly.

You’re honestly a bit shocked when you see how put together the whole event it, decorations are everywhere, and the lobby has been turned into a dance floor.

You already see a few people you know, the ones that came here with dates are already dancing, and the ones that are alone?

Well, they’re drinking the night away.

You don’t realize where Derek is taking you, too busy looking around, until his arm slips around your waist, and his other hand is holding yours as you’re pressed flush to his chest.

Derek Shepherd just asked you to dance, without saying a word.

“May I?” He’s good at this, and he knows it.

For a brief, insecure moment, you wonder why. You wonder if the reason this is so natural for him is because you’re not the only woman he does it for.

If you’re just a phase.

A tough one to crack.

You worry that he doesn’t feel the same way as you do.

But then, you look him in the eyes, and the softest, the gentle, loving, adoration in his gaze.

Your worries vanish like fog burning away on a summer morning.

“I’m not very good at this.” You warn, smiling sheepishly up at him as he begins to sway you, a grin on his lips.

You’re closer than you’ve ever been. Your free arm is thrown around his neck lazily, and you could melt into his embrace.

He leans down, whispering in your ear, his minty breath fanning over your neck. “I don’t mind.”

You smile when you hear him, laughing sweetly when he continues to dance with you. There’s a few people watching. You and Derek have become a topic of conversation around the hospital ever since he started pursuing you so strongly.

So, pretty much since your first day.

Neither of you seem to mind, to engrossed in each other to care. He hasn’t stopped looking at you this whole night. You’re always stunning, he usually can’t keep his eyes off you when you’re just in your scrubs.

But tonight?

You look like an angel came down to earth.

Derek lifts your arm above your head quickly and spins you, smiling brightly when the sound of your bubbly laughter reaches his ears.

It’s the best thing he’s ever heard.

When he pulls you back in your pressed close to him, touching his chest with yours, staring up into his cerulean eyes. Your breathe mingles as he looks down to you, his gaze flickering to your lips as he does.

Everything else feels like it just disappears. The only thing that matters, the only thing in your world, is the man standing in front of you.

You curse yourself for waiting so long. For always being so damn good. For not letting yourself have this sooner.

Have him sooner.

Every single time he asked you out, you wanted to say yes. But you didn’t, you were too focused on everything you shouldn’t have been.

Colleagues.

Expectations.

Assumptions.

Everything but him.

And now?

You’re done.

So when he leans forward, when his lips brush yours. You close your eyes and let him kiss you, and it makes your knees weak. It rips the air out of your lungs.

It flips your world upside down.

You could have repeated this moment forever and been happy.

You move against him, kissing back, running your hands through his hair. His hands slip further down your waist, coming to rest on the small of your back.

Your forced to pull away as you begin to run out of air, gasping a bit as you do. You press your forehead to Derek’s, smiling widely.

He pulls you in closer, and you bring your head to rest in the crook of his neck, and he sways you back and forth, abandoning any efforts of actually trying to dance.

“You got me.” You whisper, and you feel laughter rumbling in his chest when he hears you.

After all this time, all of the asking, all the flirting, everything.

You let go.

Let go of your worries.

And grabbed on to him.

And you are never, ever, letting go.

A/N: Soooo this is short and kinda cheesy ngl, but I hope y’all liked it.

edit: guys stop glazing we all know this doesn’t deserve over 600 likes

- di <3

#fanfic #fanfic writer #fanfiction #fanfiction writer #greys anatomy #derek shepherd #derek shepherd x reader #derek shepherd x you #derek shepherd x y/n #derek shepherd x yn #self insert #self insert fanfiction #fluff #confession

811 notes · View notes

classiccowboy · 10 months ago

Text

instagram j.b.

summary: follow along with joe and his fiancée evie as they go through his football career.

* face claim is yasmin quintana*

series masterlist.

evie

liked by millyg, joeyb_9, and 873,190 others

evie: did some cowgirl shit

view all 2,739 comments…

millyg: yee frickin haw

> evie: bitches 🤠

user: NO WAY IS IT HAPPENING????

user: i was hoping this thing would get called off

joeyb_9: guess i better saddle up.

> evie: i’m coming home to you cowboy. 😉

user: no wait this is so cute

user: not ev in her cowgirl era

> evie: i fear it may be permanent

user: i cannot comprehend that you guys are so in love your getting married….

> user: wym you can’t comprehend it?? they’ve been together for like 7 years and are clearly very happy?

joeyb_9

liked by bengals, bose, and 912,054 others

joeyb_9: locked in #TeamBose

view all 5,108 comments…

user: this hairstyle is the best

user: ev is so lucky

> evie: like it truly doesn’t get better than this.

user: this is giving major top gun vibes

evie: i’m locked in on you. 🤪💗

> joeyb_9: 🌽

user: yalllll this man!

used: if you need consoling after this tough season hit my line

> evie: aw. i might take you up on that offer

> user: if there’s one things ev is going to do it’s make sure errrrrbody know joe is HER man

> user: no like its giving *insecure*

evie

liked by millyg, joeyb_9, and 910,002 others

evie: my mood for the foreseeable future..

view all 3,107 comments…

user: angel girl

user: she’s a stunnnnna

lahjay10_: if joe ain’t bring some of those cookies tomorrow we may have a problem

> evie: only the best for you jay

user: a ray of sunshine

joeyb_9: photo by me, socks from my closet, cookies homemade, your smile out of this world.

> evie: the man that you are…

user: i don’t know if im rooting for you or not

user: this doesn’t seem like lifestyles of the rich and famous

> evie: you’re looking in the wrong place for that content

joeyb_9

liked by bengals, evie, and 816,901 others

joeyb_9: my hands don’t look small here

view all 6,738 comments…

user: delete this my girl has ig

bengals: caption 🤌

user: you remember what them haters had to say

evie: let’s put them to good use. 😉

> user: EV! it’s too early to be spicy in the comments!

> user: nooo she’s getting some of that BDJ 🤣

user: i wasn’t prepared for this today

user: GOODNESS GRACIOUS

evie

liked by joeyb_9, bengals, and 520,091 others

evie: why is it always so cold in seattle?

view all 6,194 comments…

user: you’re giving pick me vibes

> evie: next time you’re looking for something to comment on, please, don’t pick me. (:

user: seattle is nice when it isn’t raining

user: period !!!

millyg: a moment for YOU 💗

> evie: i luv u.

user: these pics make seattle look bad

joeyb_9: the fit goes HARD

> evie: you can borrow it anytime 🤪

> joeyb_9: game day fit?

> evie: would def be top 5 of the season.

user: why are joe and ev always so goofy in the comments, and yall think they aren’t made for each other????

> user: no bc SAME! i don’t get why people think they aren’t a good fit. they’re obsessed with each other.

joeyb_9

liked by bengals, lahjay10_, and 730,726 others

joeyb_9: Dark Knight

view all 5,720 comments…

user: that’s my QB

joemainmixon: 🐐

user: you ain’t him

user: WAKE UP JOE POSTED

lahjay10_: (TOP 2) DAM SURE AINT 2! 🐐

> evie: TELL EM JAY

user: smash

evie: i think i need a hero… 🥵

> joeyb_9: i’ll be your knight in black shoulder pads.

evie

liked by millyg, joeyb_9, and 820,092 others

evie: big week 😳

view all 5,118 comments…

user: my favorite wag

user: if y’all actually are getting married im sick.

user: are you going to share what’s happening?

user: you look STUNNING

user: wym??

user: not prepared for what’s about to go down. i have a feeling.

joeyb_9: 👩🏽‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏼

> user: oh shit

user: not joe about to ruin his life if speculation is true

> user: wow everyone is supportive until you realize he really isn’t ever going to leave her for you. this is crazy behavior!

evie

liked by bengals, lahjay10_, and 1,737,026 others

evie: i think i like this little life.. 🤍

view all 15,829 comments…

millyg: and that’s MRS. Evangeline Burrow!

> user: not me just now finding out ev’s full name

> user: Evangeline??? Excuse me, that’s beautiful.

user: she doesn’t deserve it.

lahjay10_: we was TURNT TF UP!

user: i am sick with jealousy

bengals: The King and his Queen, congratulations!

user: only ring he will ever get but congrats

> user: marrying the love of your life is a bigger dub than the sb ever will be.

user: congrats!

sam_hubbard_: Finally!!

user: i knew it was coming and somehow i convinced myself he was smarter than this..

joeyb_9

liked by bengals, millyg, and 1,290,001 others

joeyb_9: Mr. & Mrs.

view all 8,628 comments…

lahjay10_: congratulations brudda!

user: most overrated player in the nfl

> user: bro can’t you let him enjoy his wedding?

user: congrats, now go get that other ring!

user: i give it a few months before they are done with each other.

> user: considering they’ve been together for almost a decade, i don’t see that happening

user: we all wish we were ev rn!

bengals: that’s our QB, you lucky boy!

user: another thing to distract him from winning the super bowl

user: not fair

millyg: i’m not crying, you are. jk i am crying. i’ve been crying all day.

user: he’s too famous for this, he will get sick of her.

evies ig stories:

#nfl #joe burrow #nfl imagine #bengals #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow insta au #joe burrow instagram

170 notes · View notes

pixiesfz · 1 year ago

Note

Is that Jessie fic getting a 3rd part? I want to see them reunite 🥺

I wrote this in my study I:

ALSO: I changed the club that y/n moved to because I was told Gotham wasn't near Portland and then I felt stupid but I'm not that familiar with NWSL

the set up j.f

plot: Your teammate is giving you a hard time about Jessie

warnings: angst part 3 of hey there

You had finally settled into your new home and had made your debut for Seattle Reign FC.

You had made some new friends and even kept in contact with almost all of the girls from Chelsea, Christine had come over every now and then to make sure you were okay but in reality there was only ever one girl that you wanted to see.

Jessie.

You hated yourself for it.

You were the one who broke her heart, you were the one to tear your relationship apart.

She has every right to ignore you.

But it still hurts when you would see each other in public and she wouldn’t even say hi.

But today was different. Today Seattle Reign would vs Portland Thorns and as both you and Jessie were midfielders you knew there would have to be some sort of altercation between you two.

Lauren Barnes, a friend you had made since your move was waving her hand in front of your face, trying to gain attention as you sipped on your hot chocolate. “Earth to y/n” she sang out and you looked up at her “Sorry?” you asked

“I said are you worried about the game but I think I already got my answer” she smirked “Oh” you shrugged “I guess”.

“So it’s true then,” Lauren said, leaning closer to you “What is?” you asked

“That you and Jessie dated before she moved to Portland”

You rolled your eyes at her eagerness “Yes we did Lozza, now go off and pester someone else” you whined, and the girl shook her head “Why’d you break up?” she asked “Because she was going to Portland and I thought my forever home was London” you told her “but you’re back here” she pointed out “I am” you nodded “So…” she trailed off “So?” you asked.

“So get back together!” she whisper yelled and you flinched away “Jesus Lauren” you whisper yelled back and she backed away sheepishly “Sorry”.

The girl didn’t stop making comments about the Canadian to you on the bus and in the changing room as you all got ready.

“You are not helping me,” you told the girl as you laced up your boots.

“I’m being honest I saw her looking at you when we were all checking out the pitch” she excitedly told you “No she wasn’t” you denied “She was! It was like you guys were playing tennis, every time you looked away she was looking at you and every time you looked at her she was looking away!”

“Do you mind focussing on the game?”

“Nope”.

You rolled your eyes in defeat and shrugged off your jacket “let’s go games about to start” you huffed and walked away.

Christine saw you walk out with a scowl as she was also planning to get an early start on the line-up.

“Kiddo what’s up?” she exclaimed and grabbed your shoulders, you turned your head towards her “Just a bad day,” you told her “Was it Lauren teasing you?” she asked and you shot your head up “How Did you-“ “I may have asked her to ask about Jessie to you” she admitted and you stepped back “why?”

“Because I have been pestering Jessie”

“Well stop,” you told her “Me and Jessie broke up a year ago” you started, not hearing the boots that were walking behind you “It’s been a year and I haven’t even got the courage to start a conversation with her and you guys are telling me to ask her out again, do you even know if that’s what she wants” you ranted.

Jessie has always been an early bird, to everything. It usually gave her peace and quiet but when she decided to join Christine at the line-up she definitely wasn’t expecting to see you waving your hands around whilst complaining.

“I haven’t even got the courage to start a conversation with her and you guys are telling me to ask her out again, do you even know if that’s what she wants?”

Your words were clean off your tongue and Jessie stepped away and hid behind the corner.

Ask her out again.

But you didn’t love her.

At least that’s what you told her.

“I’m sorry” you apologized to Christine and hugged her, sighing in relief when she smoothed her hands over your back “Freshen up kid, I’ll see you on the field”.

You walked away, thankfully to the front so Jessie didn’t have to worry about you but as soon as you were out of sight Jessie stepped to Christine.

“Why are you meddling?” she asked the older Canadian who was shocked to see her “Jessie-“ “She told me she didn’t love me and I moved states, I thought I was over her” she gritted her teeth “god” she cursed “you guys can at least talk about it,” Christine said and Jessie scoffed “she might have something that you’ll want to hear,” the older woman said softly “like what, how much she didn’t love for those two years of us dating”

“Jessie” Christine tried to reason but the girl back away “I’ll come when Janine does” she said and walked back to the room, opposite of where you had gone.

Christine watched her walk away and lifted her arms in surrender.

“Fucking kids”.

#woso x reader #woso #jessie fleming #jflem #jessie fleming x reader #part 4 coming right after

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paigegonerogue · 1 month ago

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New Trailer Analysis

This is just my job at this point. This is what I do. This isn’t including clips we’ve seen in previous trailers, so if you want to see my thoughts on those check my other trailer analysis’💖

(This is probably my best trailer analysis yet)

SPOILERS!!

I loved the emphasis of the red and green in this trailer. It’s a pair of complimentary colors that don’t get used nearly enough, especially compared to the more stereotypical orange/teal. Also, this is definetly Abby’s POV of the hospital, which means we WILL be getting her backstory at some point in the season, so we almost definetly won’t be ending on the POV shift/following the exact structure of the game. Also, this makes me love the decision for Joel’s rampage to feel dissociative even more, since for him everything goes quiet and he rages through the halls, but for Abby she experiences the full horror of it.

Abby’s gun from the game!

Firefly pendant!

I just love this shot. The colors and composition are so good, it brings to mind horror movies like Alien which really enforces Joel as this “force of nature” being during the hospital rampage.

This is a Seraphite. You can tell by the outfit, as well as the weapon. This might be the first time Ellie meets them, since it appears to be in the forest with fire lighting. This may be the ritual.

It’s edited to look like Isaac is part of the ritual, but the background colors and lighting don’t match up. This is almost definitely a sneaky edit.

Ellie and Dina are wearing the same clothes from the early set photos. This is Ellie’s raincoat, which means this is probably Seattle day 1. They appear to be running from something, probably WLF?

This is the dance scene, you can tell by the outfits and hairstyles. This reinforces the fact that they almost definitely won’t be telling the story in the same order. Also, Dina is wearing a bracelet with the Hand of Fatima (aka the Hamsa Hand or the Hand of Mary). This is a common icon in Jewish culture that’s used to ward off evil (my nana gave me a necklace just like this). However, it’s also commonly used in Peru (where Isabella Merced’s mom is from), so I like to think that this is paying respects to the characters original roots while also tying into to her current ones, rather than a confirmation that Dina will be played Jewish.

JOELLLLLL!! This is probably around when he meets Abby, judging by the snow and general setting. My guess is he’s slamming the door against infected.

More time in Jackson!! Judging by the level of Ellie’s level of intensity here, I think it’s very possible that this is after Joel’s death and she’s training for Seattle. Or possibly around the time of the firefly hospital, since this is definitely not young Ellie.

God did I already say how much I loved the red lighting? Yes? Okay, the I’ll just say that judging by the background and the colors this is probably the subway station. This and the Jackson horde seem to be the big sequences of s2, like Endure and Survive in s1.

Also, in the v/o we hear Abby refer to herself as “someone with a code”, but I’m fairly certain that she, nor the WLF have a strict code to follow, so maybe that’s something to be added (or her just speaking in terms of general morals)

We didn’t get a ton of new stuff this trailer, and it wasn’t quite as character driven as the Future Days trailer, but I’m still hyped we got anything lmao

ALSO I WAS RIGHT!! CHECK MY POSTS!! APRIL!! GO ME!!

#PaigeGoneAnalysis #the last of us #the last of us hbo #tlou #tlou hbo #the last of us season 2 #tlou season 2 #the last of us s2 #tlou s2 #the last of us spoilers #spoilers #tlou part 2 spoilers #ellie williams #joel miller #bella ramsey #pedro pascal #isabela merced #kaitlyn dever

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prettybaby-reid · 13 days ago

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I think the biggest reason why the team feels different after Hotch leaves/why emily doesn’t seem like the best option for unit cheif to some people(outside of the obvious fact that Hotch was UC for 11 seasons so obviously it’s easy to compare) is because of the ages. Like in season one, Hotch is easily in his mid-late 30’s the EARLIEST (remember, hotch had to go through college, law school, work as a prosecutor for some time (long enough for him to become dismayed by the fact he couldn’t do anything to help people before it was too late), work in the seattle field office before transferring to Quantico and work there for long enough to be seen as a trustworthy replacement for Gideon). The rest of the team is in their early 30’s at most, more likely their late 20’s and that’s not counting Spencer, Jj and Garcia who are in their EARLY 20’s. He’s much older than them (outside of Gideon and Rossi), and that creates an inherent sense of authority. Emily on the other hand, is younger than Hotch, and even if she’s still older than the rest of the team, it’s only by a few years. according to the Fanwiki, Hotch is 8 years older than Morgan and Emily is only 3 years older than him. And yeah, by the time Emily is Unit Cheif, Morgan is gone. but she’s still a lot closer in age.

and this is never remedied. They never hire and young agents to the BAU. The youngest person to join the team after season two is Seaver and she’s only there for a season. Did the FBI qualifications change? do you need to be in your mid-30’s to join now? The entire team is the same age, so Emily never feels like an authority figure in the same way. In season one, Hotch is teaching Spencer how to shoot a gun. In season 12, Reid is IN PRISON. Like you never get to see Emily guide anyone. And it doesn’t help that we saw Emily work as a member of the team like the others, and then she was gone for like…4 seasons.

It’s just so annoying because there could’ve been potential to show a new group of young agents come in as members are swapped out, and show them grow into their roles the same way we saw with the main roster, but this never happens. Instead they’re replaced with Agents the same age. Why do we never see Garcia have a little tech protege, why isn’t there a group of fresh faced agents the way we had them with Elle and Reid. It probably would’ve made the series finale a whole lot better if we knew there was a group of people who were going to take the mantle and that the BAU was going to be just fine without Garcia and Reid. But no, we never get that. Like at the end of season 15 is it just like “oh well, i guess we aren’t catching serial killers anymore” ? like we could’ve seen Emily be somebody’s Hotch, but it never happens, so she never really feels like she’s the unit chief, she just feels like she’s there because Hotch isn’t.

idk there’s probably a lot more, and I love Emily Prentiss so much, I’m probably missing a lot because i honestly don’t watch past season 11 in my rewatches anymore but I just felt like ranting.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #derek morgan #spencer reid #penelope garcia #the bau team #prettybaby rambles #criminal minds evolution #criminal minds rant #yapping #yap sesh

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trulybetty · 1 year ago

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Stood Up | Frankie Morales x f!Reader

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader (no use of Y/N) Word Count: 1,668 Warnings: being stood up, torrential rain (always bring an umbrella), mentions of alcohol, a difference of opinions on Top Gun and some could call this fluff Summary: Stood up for a date that left you in the pouring rain, you seek refuge in a sports bar and before you can change your mind the man next to you strikes up a conversation AO3: Linked

A/N: so, I was supposed to be working on Bookstore Frankie as per the WIP poll the other day and technically (in my head at least) this is Bookstore Frankie, we're just meeting him a long time before he becomes Bookstore Frankie lol.

Also, consider this is my entry for @pedrostories’ celebration, enjoy! xx

Stood Up

The Seattle rain was relentless. It wasn’t even supposed to rain that day, the forecast ironically calling for sun and highs of warm heat, which had meant you’d left the house in a maxi dress and your flimsy denim jacket. So that meant no umbrella and certainly no practical footwear for the torrential downpour you found yourself in for the date you’d left the house over an hour ago for.

You'd been stood up, and now, thanks to All-Star Week, cabs were impossible to find.

You checked your phone once more, Uber was a wait of over an hour, said date had left you on read and Cat, your friend with a text. One that promised as soon as she could get out of dinner with her husband and his parents, would come and get you with a bottle of wine to commiserate the evening over at your place.

The door to the dimly lit bar slammed shut behind you, cutting off the relentless sound of rain pounding the pavement. You were soaked to the bone, rain dripping off your hair to your face, and in a less-than-stellar mood.

As you settled into a barstool and ordered a stiff drink, you tried to shake off the frustration. The bartender served you with an understanding smile and you were just beginning to relax when a voice from the end of the bar cut through the chatter of the bar.

“How would you like to ride home on a real cowboy?”

You looked up, and some guy in a ten-gallon hat made eye contact with you with a flourish of said hat and a wink. Based on the accent and the Texas Rangers shirt he was certainly from out of town.

Your eyes rolled at the cheesy attempt, dismissing it with a casual brush-off. The downpour seemed to amplify the irritation simmering within you. Tonight was not the night for clichéd pick-up lines, especially from individuals who seemed to believe they had some inherent right to your attention.

As you took a sip of your drink, you exhaled and began to second-guess coming into the bar. You prayed for Cat to show up soon and get you out of there. Looking through the window, you thought about downing your drink and fleeing for somewhere else less crowded. You were already drenched; what more could the rain do?

But before you could think on it any further from the other side of you, a deep laugh resonated, and you glanced over to find a guy wearing a ball cap labelled 'Standard Oil', a beer resting in his hand, his eyes crinkled as he smiled.

“Can't believe that line didn't work. What's this world coming to?” he joked, raising his glass in a mock salute.

Despite your mood, a reluctant smile tugged at your lips, “A horse did me wrong once, a cowboy and I would be destined for heartbreak from the get-go,” you replied, playing along.

“How about a pilot?”

You raised an eyebrow, you hadn't missed the aviation logo on the shoulder of his shirt, “I feel like I’m being set up for a Village People joke here,” you eyed him wearily, “how often does that line work for you?”

He laughed into this glass as he took another sip, “A lot less than you think.”

You took another sip of your drink, “What a surprise.”

“Frankie,” he said, extending his hand.

You took it, his grip firm and warm and gave him your name.

He gestured to your soaked clothes, “Rough night?”

“You could say that,” you admitted.

Despite your initial want to just drown your sorrows and maybe scroll through Instagram while you waited for Cat, you found yourself in conversation with Frankie. Turned out he was actually a pilot, a little elusive on the details of what exactly he did in the military, but a pilot nonetheless. That and he was currently stationed temporarily out of McChord Field, in Pierce County. He was up in Seattle for the weekend to meet up with some friends coming in from their own deployments.

Frankie's face turned playfully serious, his eyes widening as he said, “You're breaking my fucking heart, baby.”

You laughed, leaning back in your chair. “Oh, come on! You’ve got to agree with me?!”

He grinned, shaking his head. “I never thought I'd meet someone so smart and yet so wrong at the same time.”

You playfully swatted his arm. “I could say the same about you.”

Frankie's eyebrows shot up in genuine disbelief, and his lips curved into a playful half-smile as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. “Not like 'Top Gun'? That's almost sacrilege in my line of work!” His eyes sparkled with amusement, revealing his lighthearted take on the situation.

When he’d mentioned he worked in aviation within the military, you’d jokingly asked if it was all like Top Gun and if he was a Maverick. Frankie had laughed at the question as he’d flagged down the bartender for another drink for you both. That had been before you’d voiced your true feelings on the 1986 cult classic.

You shrugged, sipping your drink. “I don't know, maybe it's the cheesy one-liners, or perhaps I just don't get the appeal of fighter jets.”

He gasped dramatically, clutching at his chest. “The appeal of fighter jets? Oh, you're really twisting the knife now.”

You giggled at his antics. The more you talked to him, the more you liked him. He didn't take himself too seriously. It was refreshing, especially considering your recent string of bad luck in the dating department.

“I'm sorry, I just don't get it,” you admitted, shaking your head.

Frankie's eyes softened, and he reached over to gently touch your arm. “It's okay. We can't all have perfect taste.”

“You think your taste is perfect?” you teased, enjoying the banter that had been flowing between you two all evening.

“In some things,” he winked, making your cheeks heat furiously.

When your phone buzzed with a message from Cat, signalling that she was outside, you found yourself a little reluctant to leave. It was strange, feeling a connection with a stranger on a night that had started with disappointment, and a part of you wanted to hold onto that feeling a bit longer. Frankie seemed to feel the same way, his eyes lingering on you as you gathered your things.

“Well Frankie, thank you for being a bright light in what was almost a terrible evening.”

“Pleasure is all mine,” he replied, his voice warm.

The two of you paused for a moment, the atmosphere suddenly more serious. He'd already mentioned that he was stationed temporarily and had hinted at an upcoming deployment. And though the good company and the buzz from the drinks had lightened your mood, you were still reeling from being stood up by the man you'd really thought you'd had a chance with.

You waved goodbye to Frankie and headed outside, the rain still falling heavily. As you approached Cat's car, thoughts of Frankie lingered in your mind, leaving you with a strange mixture of excitement and melancholy.

You were just about to open the door to the passenger side of Cat’s car when the noise from inside the bar broke through over the sound of the rain. Turning around Frankie was coming out of the door, you watched him look around before his eyes settled on you with a smile.

Throwing up the umbrella he had in his hands he dashed the short distance over to you, “Look,” he shouted to be heard over the traffic and the storm that was now brewing, “I thought maybe,” he paused looking a little at war with himself before he spoke again, “we could do this again? Maybe without the rain and the cowboy.” he joked and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Sure, I’d like that.”

He pulled his hand out of his pocket and pressed a napkin into your hand. Under the cover of his umbrella, you opened it to see his name scrawled with his phone number and you shot him a smile.

“Call me?” Frankie asked, his voice suddenly softer, more intimate despite the storm raging around you.

“I will,” you assured him, tucking the napkin safely into your pocket.

With a final smile and a lingering look, Frankie dashed back towards the bar, and you climbed into Cat's car, your heart still pounding in your chest.

Cat, ever the observant friend, was already eyeing you with curiosity. “Okay, spill. Who was that guy? And why are you smiling like you've just won the lottery?”

You looked over at her, your grin widening. “That is Frankie. We just spent the last few hours talking in the bar.”

“Frankie?” Cat's eyebrows shot up. “Also, you stayed in that bar with a stranger for hours? That doesn't sound like you.”

And it really wasn’t, even going out for the date that eventually stood you up had been a push outside your comfort level.

Cat narrowed her eyes. “You sure you're not being catfished by this guy?”

You rolled your eyes, a laugh escaping your lips. “Cat, that means online, not in person.”

“Same thing,” Cat retorted, not missing a beat as she started the car. “You never know these days.”

“Anyway, he's only here for a temporary assignment between deployments. Not like anything really is going to happen.”

Cat glanced at you, her expression softening. “It's okay to have fun here and there, you know. Doesn't have to be serious all the time.”

You sighed, leaning against the window. “I know. It's just… different.”

“Different is good,” Cat said, her voice softening as she pulled away from the curb, knowing all too well your past relationship history. “Different can be very good.”

You looked at her, realizing how much you appreciated her support, even with her teasing. “Yeah, maybe.”

Cat's smile widened as she focused on the road. “Of course I'm right. Now tell me everything about this Frankie guy.”

#pedrostories1k #frankie morales/f!reader #frankie morales/you #frankie morales/reader #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #triple frontier fanfiction

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upat4amwiththemoon · 2 years ago

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Could I please have an imagine where the reader moves to Seattle. She starts out as a pediatrician at grey loan. Around this time she realizes she's pregnant. With Carina DeLuca as her ob-gyn and coworker the two fall for each other. Carina did not expect to fall for a pregnant woman but realized she knows what she wants. So she asks you out and you say yes around the time you are halfway through the pregnancy. by the end of the pregnancy, it becomes clear you much you and your baby mean to her. When you go into labor she freaks out and comments that “My girlfriend is having our baby!” (you hear her say that but say nothing due to the pain). When the baby is born she is in awe of the tiny human but kinda keeps to the side for a few minutes until you say “come meet OUR son.” Carina tries to apologize for calling him hers but the reader says that Carina is his mother too. Just like a cute family thing please?

Our baby

Summary: The world is full of unconventional families.

Pairing: Carina Deluca x female!reader

Warnings: i have no real knowledge of pregnancy or other medical things, cursing

Word count: 2944

a/n: Carina Deluca please give me a chance🙏🏻

masterlists | guidelines

Arizona Robbins shows Y/N around the hospital, introducing her to the kids staying there for a longer period of time and some of the other doctors there. She just moved to Seattle and decided to continue working as a pediatrician at the Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital, having heard a lot of good about it.

“All the kids already love you.” Arizona gushes, excited to have a new coworker. “I think you’ll be just fine.”

Y/N laughs. “That’s great to hear, I was really nervous to relocate here, you all seem so close.” She smiles, having seen how the doctors interact with each other.

“We are! We have gone through a lot together, so, we’ve gotten close. But don’t worry, you’ll fit right in. Doctor Deluca!” She stops another doctor. “This is Doctor Y/N Y/L/N, new to PEDS. And this is Doctor Carina Deluca, our OB-GYN.”

“Nice to meet you.” Y/N gives her hand out to shake, which Carina does.

“Nice to meet you too.” Carina looks at her up and down. “You’re not from here?”

“No, I moved from Boston.”

“That’s a long way.” Arizona comments. “I’m guessing the reason wasn’t just change of scenery?” Shaking her head, Y/N smiles. “I’ll learn about that later, I’m sure.”

“Sure thing.” Y/N laughs.

Carina glances at her pager. “Well, I’ll see you two later. I have a baby to deliver.” She gives them one last smile before walking away.

“Well, lets start the real work then. You’ll shadow me for a couple of days, so you learn where everything is and so on.” Arizona starts walking again, Y/N following right behind her. “I know you’re not a beginner, but you can still ask me anything you’d like.”

“Thank you, Dr Robbins. It’ll be a pleasure working alongside you.”

“Oh, please, call me Arizona.”

After a week of great work shifts, Y/N has started getting nauseous out of nowhere, especially in the morning and the middle of her shifts. Although, it’s very unusual for her, she hasn’t paid much attention to it. She has a hectic work after all, it must be the nerves.

Y/N writes down information to the kid’s chart on the tablet. “You’ll be just fine, Jules.” She assures, turning to the parents. “She’ll just get her some medicine and after making sure she reacts to it well, you can go home.”

“Thank you so much, Doctor Y/L/N.” The mother cries out in relief, grabbing Y/N’s hand.

“Of course. A nurse will bring the medication over soon.” She turns to the said nurse. “Make sure Jules doesn’t get any nausea-“ taking in a deep breath, she pauses, feeling increasingly nauseous herself, “or rashes. If everything is fine in thirty minutes, they can leave.”

“Got it, Doctor Y/L/N.” The nurse smiles and grabs the tablet out of Y/N’s hands.

With a nod and a smile, Y/N leaves the room, holding her stomach lightly. The sick feeling in her stomach is getting worse quickly. She walks into the break room to get some water from the fridge.

“Hey, Y/N.” Carina greets as she walks in.

Eyes wide, Y/N coughs, getting some water in her windpipe. “Hi.”

“Everything okay?” Carina laughs.

“Mhm.” Screwing the cap back to the bottle, Y/N grimaces. The water didn’t help the nausea. “Uhm, how are you?” Her voice comes out a bit strained, but she does her best to hide the sickness.

“I’m alright.” She stares at her. “Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t look too good.”

Taking few deep breaths, Y/N nods. She grips her scrubs tightly, as if it would lessen the pain she’s feeling. “Listen, I-“ Suddenly, Y/N runs into the bathroom. She drops down to her knees and starts vomiting.

“You’re definitely not okay.” Carina mumbles as she kneels next to Y/N. She rubs her back with one hand, while the other holds her hair out of the way. “When was your last period?”

Y/N heaves over the toilet, keeping her eyes closed. Vomiting was always difficult for her. “You’re not saying what I think you’re saying?” She turns to look at Carina, who can only offer her a hopefully comforting smile.

After the vomiting stops, Carina takes Y/N to a examination room, so she can draw her blood. Now, Y/N is waiting on the bed for Carina to come back. Her mind is a jumbled mess. She isn’t sure what to think.

Carina steps inside the room. Y/N looks up at her expectantly. She sits down to a chair right next to Y/N. “You’re six weeks pregnant.”

“Oh, fuck.” Y/N holds her stomach with a shocked expression.

“Can I ask if this is a wanted pregnancy? Is the father in the picture?”

“Is this a- I don’t, I don’t know.” She gasps, feeling like the air is getting thinner. “The father is the sole reason I left Boston.”

“Okay, hey, I need you to calm down your breathing.” Carina grabs her hand. “Take some deep breaths.”

Y/N breathes in and out, following Carina’s lead. “I’ve always wanted kids.” She starts once her breathing is more stable. “I love them, that’s why I went into PEDS. But alone? I don’t know if I could do that.”

“You still have time to think, but, I think if anyone could do this, it’s you.” Carina rubs rubs the back of her hand with her thumb. “I am here for you every step of the way, whatever you decide to do.”

“Thank you, Carina.” Her voice wobbles a bit. “Are the hormones supposed to be all over the place yet.” She lets out a teary laugh.

“Yes,” Carina stands up. “They are going to be a mess through it all.”

Y/N stands up with a groan. “How fun.” She huffs and put her doctor’s jacket back on. “Well, thank you, Dr Deluca. I suppose I’ll be seeing you a lot.”

“You will, lucky me.” She smiles, opening the door for her. “See you later, Y/N.”

“See ya.” Y/N waves as she walks back into her shift, like nothing happened.

After three weeks, Y/N has her first official appointment with Doctor Deluca. She has made her decision and is ready to confirm it with her OB-GYN. “Ready for your first ultrasound?” Carina sets up the machine while Y/N climbs up to the examination bed.

Nodding, Y/N stares at Carina. “Everything will be okay, right? There’s not going to be anything bad in there.” Carina raises her brows while listening to her ramblings. “I’m totally feeding into the doctor’s are the worst patients stereotype, aren’t I?”

“Hmm, just a little bit. May I?” Carina takes hold of the hem of Y/N’s shirt, lifting it only when she gives her permission to do so. “This is going to be a little cold.” The gel feels chilly against her stomach, which makes her flinch. “Now, I’m going to press this to your abdomen and move it around bit to see everything.” Once the probe presses against her stomach, Carina starts studying the ultrasound image.

The longer she stays quiet, the more worried Y/N gets. She tries to see the screen, but it’s angles just out of her sight. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes!” Y/N lets out a sigh of relief. Turning the screen to face her, Carina shows Y/N where the embryo is. “It is around 22 millimeters long right now, there’s its head and limbs.” She points around the screen. “Its tiny muscles are starting to develop at this tome. Want to see if we can hear the heart?”

“Can we? This early on.”

“We can with a Doppler monitor.” Carina puts the ultrasound machine to the side and cleans the gel from Y/N’s stomach, before putting gel on the probe of the monitor. After that, she presses the head of the probe against Y/N’s abdomen, moving it around to find the right spot. “Can you hear that?”

A quiet, but clear galloping sound can be heard through the monitor. Y/N hums with a nod, biting her lips as she can feel herself get emotional.

“Sounds like a perfectly strong heart.” Carina smiles at the look on Y/N’s face. Even though she has done the same thing multiple times, this feels just a bit more special compared to the other ones. “How are you feeling?”

“I feel…” Y/N sighs deeply. “I don’t even know how to word it. I’m tired and so scared, but I feel amazing. I feel like I’m going crazy.”

There’s a permanent grin on Carina’s face as she listens to Y/N talk. She likes to listen to her talk, even if it’s just nervous rambling.

“Is that normal?”

“To feel like you’re going crazy? Yes, it is, you have nothing to worry about.” She sets her hand on her leg, rubbing it in a comforting manner. The actions makes Y/N’s cheeks warm and stomach flip.

“Thanks.” She breathes out, clearing her throat. “My shift starts in twenty.”

“I’ll let you go get ready then.” Carina wipes any remaining gel off of Y/N’s stomach and pulls her shirt back to normal. “I’l see you around?”

“Yes.” Y/N hops off the bed.

Opening the door, Carina sets her hand on Y/N arm to stop her from walking out. “Will I ever see you outside of the hospital?”

A shy smile grows to her face. “Definitely.”

“Heyy,” Carina lifts her hands up in celebration, “look at that bump! We’re halfway there.” Y/N laughs, closing the exam room door. “Today is a very important ultrasound, are you ready to know the gender of your baby?”

“I am more than ready.” She lays down to the bed, lifting up her shirt and lowering her pants so her stomach is visible.

“What are you hoping for?” Carina sets everything ready for the ultrasound, it all being normal for Y/N now. She puts of the gel as Y/N says she doesn’t have a preference. With a smile, Carina puts the probe to her abdomen and starts moving it around. “Everything is looking good.” She mumbles, trying to find an angle where she could see the baby’s sex. “I can see all ten fingers and ten toes.” Suddenly she starts grinning. “Do you want to know your baby’s gender?”

“Yes.” Her voice comes out quietly. She bites her lip as she stares at Carina.

“It’s a baby boy!”

Y/N laughs, excited to know something about her future baby. She opens her arms when Carina leans down to hug her. “I have to start thinking about names.” She whispers.

Carina pulls away from the hug to put the ultrasound machine away. “Don’t have options yet?” She asks while wiping away the gel.

“No. I’ve been too stressed and tired to think about anything.” She lets out and airy laugh, pulling her clothes back to normal. “But knowing he is alright in there, maybe I can give myself some rest.”

“Please do. Have you felt him kicking yet?” Y/N nods with an excited grin. “May I?” She sets her hand under Y/N’s shirt once she gets her permission. They wait in silence, nothing happening, but after a while, a small kick can be felt. Carina cheers and rubs Y/N’s stomach.

“It still feels so unreal.”

They stare at each other with wide smiles and shiny eyes. The two have been going out for months now, but they still haven’t made anything exactly official, mostly because Y/N is worried about her pregnancy getting in the way of their relationship. But it just feels so right, like it’s meant to be. Every time Carina touches her, whether is for medical or other reasons, Y/N gets such a high from it.

“You know I want this, right?” Carina lets her hand stay on Y/N’s stomach. “I want you and everything that comes with it.”

Y/N bites her lip, setting her hand on top of Carina’s. “You’re sure?”

“One hundred percent.”

“You aren’t going to back down once you realize how insanely the hormones are affecting me? We’re only half way there.”

Rolling her eyes, Carina nods. “I’m not backing down. I want to be there for you, not only as your OB-GYN, but as your partner.”

“Okay. I’d like that.”

“Yeah.” Carina leans closer, waiting for Y/N to say anything against what she’s doing in case she isn’t feeling it, but when she just nods, Carina presses her lips to Y/N’s.

One of Y/N’s hands goes up to Carina’s hair, combing though it. Carina pulls away, but stays close enough to feel each others breaths. “I might start crying unless I leave, like right now.” Y/N whispers, feeling her emotions taking over.

With a chuckle, Carina fully pulls away, giving Y/N some space to stand up. “I’ll see you at your apartment after my shift?”

“Yes.” Kissing Carina’s cheek, Y/N leaves right after.

Humming a song quietly to herself, Y/N is going through the patients’ charts. Her shift is almost at the end, so she likes to make sure everything is where it’s supposed to be.

“Bambina.” She smiles at the sound of Carina’s voice, even when it sounds disapproving. “You should be resting.”

“I’m fine, Carina.” Y/N smiles at her, pecking her lips. “Besides, my shift ends any second now.”

“You’re about to give birth any second.” Her brows are raised as she sets her hand on Y/N’s stomach. It’s true, Y/N is a few days over her due date, but she wants to help out as long as she can.

Y/N’s smile somehow widens from the mention of giving birth soon. She’s absolutely terrified, but also so excited to meet her son. “I know,” she grins, “but there still kids that need me.”

“Sometimes you should just stop the day.” Carina states, which makes Y/N furrow her brows. “Make it a day?”

“Call it a day.”

“Yes.”

Y/N laughs, setting the tablet down. “I know, but I’m still feeling gr-“ She gasps, taking hold of her stomach.

Carina goes into worry mode immediately. She takes hold of Y/N. “What? What happened? Are you okay?”

Taking few deep breaths, Y/N looks down at the floor that’s now wet. “My water just broke.” She mumbles. Straight away, Carina goes to grab a wheel chair for her, helping her down to it. Y/N pushes air out of her mouth. “It hurts.”

“Everything will be okay, Y/N. Everything will be okay.” The last sentence is mostly to herself, as Carina is starting to feel terrified by the situation. Her girlfriend is about to give birth right now. “We need an OB!” She shouts as they arrive to the right floor. “She’s about to give birth.”

A group of nurses jog over to them, they bring Y/N to a bed and start getting everything they need ready. “Aren’t you her OB?” One of the nurses asks.

“My girlfriend is having our baby! I can’t deliver him.” She panics.

The nurse nods, paging another OB-GYN to their location. Y/N cries out in pain, not able to pay attention to anything happening around her. The doctor arrives fast and starts doing her thing right away. Carina stays in the room, but in the sidelines, giving them space to work.

“Hey there, Doctor Y/L/N.” The OB smiles, putting on gloves. “This is your first baby, right?” She sets Y/N’s legs to a correct position so she can see everything.

“Yes.” Y/N’s breathing is getting faster from the pain. “Can I start pushing?” She gasp when the pain increases.

“Yes you can.” The OB glances at Carina. “Does Doctor Deluca want to come over here and hold Y/N’s hand?”

Carina snaps out of her panic and drags a chair next to Y/N’s bed. She sits down and grabs Y/N’s hand. “You’re doing so good.”

“Doesn’t feel like it.” Y/N screams as she pushes. Her grip on Carina’s hand tightens every time the pain gets stronger. “How long is this going to take?” She cries out.

An hour and a half later, the baby’s cries can be finally heard. Y/N slumps down to the bed, laughing and crying in relief. “Can I see him? Can I see my baby?” Her eyes are half closed, finally feeling everything.

A nurse cleans the baby down, before bringing him over to Y/N. She smiles widely as she takes hold of him. “He’s so beautiful.” Y/N whispers, caressing his head gently. She turns to look at Carina, who has moved back to the side. She looks amazed by everything that just happened. “Come meet our son.”

Carina’s eyes widen, she thought Y/N hadn’t heard her. “I- I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called him mine, he is your son.” She starts apologizing.

“Shut up.” Y/N laughs quietly, stretching her hand towards Carina. “He is our son. You said no backing down, remember?”

Carina’s eyes tear up as she takes Y/N’s hand and sits back down next to her. “Hello, my angioletto.” She whispers, grabbing his extremely small hand with her free hand. Looking at Y/N, she mover her hand to rub her cheek. “You did such a good job, bella.”

Y/N smiles, kissing her palm. “We have a son.”

“We have a son.” Carina laughs, looking over her family.

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