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astralnymphh · 2 months ago

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𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬)

summary: your suspicious encounter has given ellie her five minutes and her knife—but can she truly measure insincerity? reader discretion advised: seattle!ellie x fem!reader, angst (with comedic and romantic undertones), reader is a stranger, reader has a sibling, inevitably changes the trajectory of the canon storyline, inherent tensions, interrogation tactics; knife (obviously), drawing blood, smacking, punching, collectively getting beaten to a pulp. ellie has ran into someone who matches her energy, maybe even dominates it. whew. lots to interpret. memo: this came to me in a daydream!!! yay for getting beat up!!! footnotes: word count (4.3k), masterlist, palestine masterpost, read this, proofread by the lovely @caraphernellie!

It is an aching, scathing thing: this world.

In the mornings, the most godless sounds awaken. Salvation takes pitiless dances with self-righteous societies, and the meek have inherited the earth.

If you have a bounty—an idea of revenge—you must be fain to bleed every happy accident dry of information, and bleed yourself.

“Where's Abby?”

You are a happy accident. Urging for an alibi, your appetite stared down the barrel of several guns. The soldiers of this hospital you sought out on eroding patience were not helpful. If anything, lethal. They seemed guilty of selling out; failing to fulfill their scrap of the bargain, dodging explanations and lily-whiting themselves with some careless, out-of-the-blue, bullshit argument for why the agreement changed, why they acted against the inertia. All these sour months, yet nothing to compensate for time. Just conflict.

You were owed fifteen guns from this deal. Fifteen!

The debate fired in a deep corridor, right above the bowels of the hospital. Some bitch—Nora, you think, plated the verdict first and coldly before making off someplace else. Almost like you weren't really there. Still bleeding for clarity, you had everyone else in the hospital browbeaten, interrogating one after another, interrupting their plans to clear out the place. You used the threats in your mouth and the appetence of your revolver to show them you meant blood and business, simultaneously. Some heads went rolling.

Then, the place got infiltrated, making you an emergent exfiltrator. Like fire in a timber house of innocents, death caught quickly. Gunshots cracked at a singularity. A couple fired, then there would be a pause, muffled commotion, a horrifying scream, and a shallow rain of bullets come again.

It became instantly understood that it was a single person; a party would bring more noise. Frightened seconds became bodies on the floor in minutes, the melody of throats choking on blood padding the halls, and like time in a nutshell, one note of that melody played right outside the room you lurked in.

You recall a muttered echo: “Fucker,” which taunted the loud gurgles of blood, and rang as a sign that it was too late.

Her narrow and thorough eyes had the emptiest and deepest rooms flipped upside without warrant. Not even the silent take-outs, blind-covered windows or the secrecy of your location evaded interest. She craved some of that action.

You interrogated one room of stubborn people, only to be interrogated by a trespassing 'nother. Fucking coincidence, right?

God, and this girl is just terrible at cross-examination! Don't let her in a courthouse, of any quarantine zone. If they exist.

Ever.

It has gone on for a minute now. She continuously asks these redundant questions and tries cheap intimidation tactics her daddy probably demonstrated on several unlucky incidents like yourself—or maybe it's improv. Sure fuckin' sounds like it. And, not to mention, an extravagant amount of profanity that even the devil himself would blush at.

Fingers snap in your face. “Hey,” she barks. The table beside you is one of her foresaid tactics. It gets slammed. “Where is she?” Her wrathful gesture makes you glance only by a virtue of instinct. Clearly, this hand gets all the action.

Simmering reds from all that yelling have curled up her cheeks, painting her in a flit of desperate, pathetic rage. She is a strange clash of auburns and browns. In eerie-black rivers, bleeding up the walls, she is a darling brunette. But in the closeness of light, it washes into a gutsy auburn. Blinding and fiery. Those eyes have you engrossed too, damn: a penetrating, cat's-eye green you could fuck up in the sightline of. Her mother give her those?

Whatever. Why she needed to find this girl, you have no clue. Where this girl in question is—you still have no clue! This is useless. In fact, to her pursuit, you are useless. Files would better serve her mission, which thousands upon thousands sit in this hospital waiting to enlighten the blood-hungry half of the population with information. Surely she knows how to fucking read, right?

Yet, your sun of escape had set indefinitely, predestining you to writhe and mope in this tangle of uncomfortable ropes for however long until she was satisfied—or suffocating you. Fight, fight, and fight all you want; there is no abdication in negotiation.

“Did you ever think to ask the guards before slicing their throats?” You cock your head, sassy, contemptuously, without a care. It's an easy antidote for you to suggest given your mental innocence to the horrors outside that door. The prelude to this tangle of ropes is an interpretation of screams and guzzles—your favorite! “Too late now, though. Oops.”

Annoyance rolls from the pit of her teeth “Oh, my fucking..” She sounds irritable, eager to snap, and she turns her back to you for the sake of her sanity.

There is a faint sound of her fingers, squeezing on the mechanics of her lovely handgun. Maybe, just maybe, she'll knuckle under now; abdicate in the sweetness of another murder? Shut your trap by boring a bullet through it?

“Do you ever quit it with the snark?” She swings back around, hunching arms-crossed.

Nevermind.

You chart your own thoughts for a possible half-genuine, mostly clever answer, eyes rolling up. “Hmm..” Checking if it lives on the ceiling, like a perfect spring apple, ripe and pendant for picking. “Not recently, no.”

That strikes a nerve. “Oh, great,” she bluffs, that empty ink of doubt rich in the short, artificial reply. Certain smilings you often earn from fed-up someones. “Guess I'll have to try harder to get it outta' you, huh?” Her face fades, broadcasting something a little more serious, though those hooded eyes are the least daunting thing.

“Oh, so hard—”

Bam! Nailed right in the cheek. No sign, no second-rounds needed. The faithfulness of four knuckles pulled through your jaw, your teeth. It aches, and your sense of vantage is knocked for a moment, flopping your head back from where she clocked it.

You swish your cheek against the throbbing, staring with provocation. She stares, too. Through the old, grimy light above, you see her conscience emptying out: upper lip snared up, brows pulling to meet a center, heavy breathing. You believe judgment exits through every exhale.

“I saw you in here, rummaging through files and shit. You know something.” Her chin becks to you, foregrounding you as the first pawn of evidence. “Where'd she go?”

“Up my ass, bitch.”

Her mouth flinches at your immature fulmination. Offended, or disgusted. Rigid cords accentuate in her neck. “You smart-mouthed cunt!” she seethes, and her angrily mumbling that leads too smoothly into another blow to the maw, getting all up in your twisted face. “Where?”

You sling back. “Clearly not right in front of you, damn it!” Spitting the blood stilling in the pockets of your gums, you damn her; aim for the tip of her converse. Panting, you bring your eyes up slowly to glare. “Who shit in your rations?”

“We don’t—hmph, I don’t do rations.”

Throwing a joke put a cork in her incursion, slipping up her words. You have to laugh. Furrows pinch between her brows, then she scans you up and down, face contorting into slow inspiration. They widen, discern; something you said alludes.

What is she thinking?

”Are you FEDRA? Undercover soldier?”

Your smile fades. “What? No.”

She motions to the bodies entrailing the floor. “Then why'd you kill them?”

“Got in my way.”

Her lips press into a line, and she huffs. Appraisal demanded conjectures, and you weren’t giving her anything. Things that may nail the target right in the eye, or miss by a small mark. You came here for one thing and one thing only, and that's none of her business—but, she wants to make it her business. Clothing you in warfare made it psychologically easier to absolve herself.

Two can play at that game. “Are you an undercover soldier?” you spin the question, blood in your mouth stirring a grudge. This situation might fall more into place if tongues point to yes. “Which zone hired you for reparation? Or would that be the Seraph—”

“Not a soldier.” Her interruption is resolute. She holds something harsh in-between the teeth, a stiff rehash, unable glarings. “I'm not FEDRA, I'm not a Scar..” The floor seems to interest her eyes. “Actually, what I am is none of your goddamn business.” She only looks up at you at the end, eyes narrowed.

“Neither am I yours.”

For smart-mouthing, you expect a third kiss of violence to erupt your gums—nostrils, perhaps—and she relents. Silence perverts the room, leaving an uncomfortableness to stretch from her stare. Gulps, blinks, and breaths that invocate. She expects you to give her a thesis, glaring like a hawk. A glare that depicts, “You are my damn business.” without ever having to gorge a throat.

You watch her right fist fumble together, blanking out on the earth-stained nooks. “Just assumed someone so blood-hungry would be an undercover soldier that has it out for rebel militia groups trying to battle authority. Maybe you wanted to snuff out the Firefly legacy? Once and for all?”

The coarse skin of her tattoo looks storied. Covered in things you lack context for.

But are you not self-same?

“Ex-Fireflies are finicky fucking people,” you begin to rasp in the vowels, clearing your throat. “Fuckin' hate them.”

Nothing is said on her end. Nothing of solace, nothing of condemnation, not even a different opinion. She traces all the lines quietly; squints at your lowered face, weighs your scars, conjecturing what your reputation must be to wear wounds like these. They must be gorgeous enough to ignore, because she prowls closer and slips into her back pocket, pulling a switchblade. Mahogany, and storied indeed. Fresh blood, old blood.

You peek up when you hear it flick. “Last chance,” the rigid-lipped girl warns. And like she has experienced an earnest, diabolic and pardoned shift in mind, her eyes look prepared to see you choke. “What's it gonna take?” She would slice you if it meant bleeding the infinite resolve out of you.

Fingertips dance on the handle of it. Pitifully, agitatedly dancing under the shadows. “Reasons, maybe?”

“Yeah? Wanna be like that?” She braces an arm on the chair, caging you, leaning in. Warm, arrowlike words hit you. They smell of breath. “Someone was hunted, tortured and killed, right in his own fucking town. Planned attack, too.” The cold, keen edge of the blade is pressed against your pulse, provoking a swallow through you. Tight in freckled hands, bloodspill is ensured. “That enough for you?”

“Oh,” you chuckle unamusedly. “Revenge doesn't solve shit.”

“Then why the fuck are you here?” The growing pressure of her hand leaves a thin, immaculate cut, no drippage. Your subtle stonewalling escalates the tension in her, and so, she slowly buckles under; teasing the knife with a little taste.

Muted pain hisses from you. “Not revenge,” you plume, showing her your eyes. “Wolves got somebody I know held hostage and is unfairly expending them for their work. They won't let 'em off as agreed.”

Eyes reveal lies.

“Bullshit.”

You disengage from the delicate stinging on your neck, confounded by her. “Okay, and what makes your excuse more plausible?” Either you wear an embittered smile, or it wears you. Her cynicism is almost predictable. “I was owed shit from these assholes.”

“Which assholes?”

Of course, every detail is of the essence. You get her, to a degree; she is enraged justice in the form of a girl, but is overwhelmingly that. Rage. She spreads her pawns inside out and envisages a judging of gospel in their exposed guts. Interpreting the files, the conditions, the realisms of things said. Was that soldier truly vulnerable? Did they die weaponless, fearful, and innocent? Is innocence even a condition, given the crimson in her eyelines?

She looks lost in all the blood.

The temporary break opens to your heavy sigh. “Think her name was Nora.” Lasting throbs from the punches minutes before worsen as you speak. You crinkle your face against them. “'Dunno, don't care. Just want my brother back.”

You cannot tell if your answer brings satisfying insight, hearing only her inhales go in, and out. Knife laying inert, you receive no pain for it, but no freedom from it, either. She opens her mouth a bit, and bloomed breaths fan over you, like a response is meant to come out. Then her bloodied, bottom lip folds in, rubbing against her top, brows set low, and you know the contents of her mind are crafting a narrative.

Measuring your high-stake sincerity.

“Is that enough for you?”

Her eyes are sharp when you ask.

The weight of inflection, the material of fluency. Both are determiners. You, for the past five minutes, have acted a soft and blunt manner in the face of one jury. Maybe facetious, too, but it changes little.

She picks herself up from her wander-faced brainwork, and concentrates outside of her mind. “'Kay,” she drones, cocking her head. “Where is Nora, then?”

You sigh. “Probably upstairs.” The fight for life continues. Behind the chair, your wrists contort quietly for a weak knot. “Or gone. Depends how long you take to untie me.”

One corner of her lip crooks. “Huh, you really think it's that easy?” Her face compliments the eerie line perfectly. She slides the blade past your collarbone, without pressure, and pierces it into your sleeved arm. Slow torture of twisting. “Tell me where, exactly.”

Gouging torments worse than simple incisions. With cuts, you can leave ugly reminders. But with a debased conscience and an end goal, she hopes to wind the information out clean; create a perpetual torture that loosens your tongue. She does not flinch, does not glance with hesitation while the tip draws a sweet, ugly, crimson vortex above your inner-elbow. Those steady eyes bore other holes into yours. Lingering, reading your pain.

Your windpipes fill with a groan, and you clutch at the bundle of knots behind you. “Fuck!” The pain does torture you. She is exacting in the way that it does. Torturing your skin, your thoughts. It forces a puncture of annoyance in your gut for not having much else to say while she bleeds you for it. You try to fathom her situation at large.

“Fuckin' lucky I haven't slit your throat yet.”

Then, it clicks.

“Come on, where?” Her impatience hits home.

You know where the blind spots are in this situation. Context shines clearly. “It's not just some random guy you're getting revenge for, huh?” Struggling under knifepoint, your words slip out with the violence of a tear. Scratchy, compressed.

But the gouging technique of her fingers stop, saving you a second.

“What?”

Her face and voice incarnate offense identically. There had to be some nasty reason backing your statement, another round of your clever inaction to distract a sure demise. Yet, it still chokes. She wants to finish this, but you are by far the most thought-provoking victim her switchblade has ever laid infliction to. You can make a girl hesitate pretty damn well; it frustrates her. Makes her culpable, a gilded conscience whispering in low tones to let it back in. Reverting her to one of the many things that Seattle made her find fucking sickening: empathy.

Thinking.

She slaps a band-aid on those exposed nerves, keeping her heart small, and begrudgingly narrows her eyes into confrontational lines. The knife softly listens.

You continue. “Obviously, this someone is special,” attesting brashly, not so formally as a court would mandate. Just loud enough to film over the sound of your binds loosening. “Who goes all this way for somebody they don't share blood with?”

Regardless of how bold, how unoriginal this shot in the dark is, the revenge-high girl drops her lip. She's trying to pin a conceivable falsehood to your words, but it conflicts with the perfection of them; you aren't entirely wrong.

An irritated sigh claws open the air.

Forget it—she isn't looking to be mutual. She didn't chase a rumor to carve sympathy. Histories shall keep to themselves. “So? Don't play fucking stupid with me,” she reproaches you, introducing the pressure of her knife down on your thigh. “If she's gone, you're gonna show me right where she's headed.”

You watch her empty hand reach back. “Then?”

The sounds of paper halt. She frowns at your strange cross-questioning. “Then—I'll let you go.” Her reply is reluctant, so full of an unsure breath. “But only on the condition that you aren't fucking bullshitting me.”

The hand once-empty arcs from her back pocket, unfolding an outdated map of Seattle before your eyes. Damn, does she need an exact time too?

“Where?”

Hence that, the knife eases silence with pain again. There are tense cords on the crest of her palm from pushing it in. You almost absently and sullenly admire the true beauty of the flesh wallowing in contemplation; chances are, you may know too much now, and could cause wounds in her plan if let go. Providing her the intel she thrives for won't save you—it will kill you.

So, while so much as a long wince takes up your throat, you think of something else.

“Come on,” she nags, twining the knife into your kneecap. You counter with a cry, the vulnerable, warm shine threatening to paint your undereyes. “Could be done with this already. Eyes up here.” It crept up so quick.

But before you succumb, the roughness around your wrists becomes a nothingness, and your fingers grasp for light. Reprieve, a pardon to injury; you take it into your own hands.

The scene shifts like rain. Shock jerks her eyes wide when the chair clatters, and you drive her backwards—heels scattering, hands thrashing in a flit of desperation—and her special switchblade is suddenly against her. You swipe it tracelessly, catching her off-guard and cursing. Threatened palms puncture you repeatedly in the shoulders, trying to shove you off as she is slammed into the wall, knocking out the incentive she held so dearly like a candle.

Her hand dives below where you can see, definitely headed for the leather gun holster that clasps her thigh. She struggles to unload it. Before she can even wrap a finger, your reflexes are a step ahead, ridding her of that precious, immediate solution. You bash the damn thing into her nose.

“Fucking cunt!” she shouts with her lip snared down, the raging shape of her teeth evinced. Her hips struggle against you, palms now reaching to eclipse your sockets, both in a desperate fight to recapture her authority. Careful, she might bite!

Everything transpired so quickly. You feel whiplash as you toss the gun, brace her arms and show her precisely what lies ahead—scratching the surface, knife on her pale pulse.

Struggle exists no longer; the weapon buys you surrender. She focuses her lingering energy on catching air, slack under your fingers.

“Well, shit!” Your chest opens with a degrading laugh, one she abhors. Screw looking at you. “Guess it really was that fucking easy, huh?” You begin a soft dint in her neck with the pricked end, inciting her to swallow a lump.

It does not fall quietly. She cracks open her lips and blood from her nose weeps in. “Please, stop,” she pleads, loud and clear. Instead, she is entrusted meekness as a desperate measure. That flesh you loom could be wool, a startled wool, and she would be a lamb. An innocent condition. Either fits her, since either way, she is tense and looking at the inanimate space behind you. Guiltily, flinchingly.

Only one curiosity will complete you. “Name?”

“Ellie.” It rushes like another life is at stake. Since when is she soft with a heart that can break? Whatever it is, it got her in this pretty predicament. “Why?” she raises, tone wary.

“Harder to kill somebody with a name.” Cute name for a murderer.

Her teary eyes narrow with confliction.

Ellie all but understands you. Your enigmatic nature has brought her to enmity and pity thus far—and on the precipice of murder—but now you're offering complete mercy? That's a hard thing to want to accept. People these days almost prefer, by an all-embracing scale, the venom, the simplicity, and the diabolical origins of the ethos of this apocalypse. Sometimes, it comes easier up and down the throat. Belonging eroded, and this country is a skeletal memory of itself, nothing will endure. Ellie understands that; she was born into it, and so, it is her and that is eternal.

So why you choose to spare her, has her scrunching her nose and pinching those signature frown-brows. Though, in the lurid light of her being that somebody with a name, she appears more strangely relieved, even if death sits at her throat still. Getting her to end this was your why and wherefore. You don’t care, you don’t have the time. So, you let the sun set.

Her eyes quirk up, and meet an equilibrium between her and you. They look dimensional with intrigue, somewhat proportionate to almonds. Gentle, springtime in the middle. “You're not gonna kill me?” Eyes you won't harm.

“No,” you announce it like it is solace, hard-fought. Tucked eyes and no strings attached, you sure are serious about this. “You aren't an issue to my efforts or some soldier telling me to come back tomorrow or to fuck off, so.. yeah.” The switchblade flicks back into the shell. You hold it out to her, and that itself sells the deal. “Congratulations.” A simple resign.

She lets it slip into her palm. Hugs the weight, rolls the wood on the curls of her knuckles. “Hm,” she hums timidly. Feeling it now, eliminating you would have changed nothing. If anything, weighed on her conscience in the dells of nightfall.

But she still lacks information. She needs to get it somewhere, somehow.

Thoughts begin to trickle: if her fingers can do such fragile things as plucking a guitar, should they be considerate?

Should she start now?

After a silent break, and a wipe of her bloodied lip, she decides to try. “Is your brother with them?” Wearing some sympathetic face absent of a smile; you're too preoccupied to notice if she does. “Sounds tough what you're going through.” Yeah, she cares enough to try.

You recess from looting. “The Wolves?” Crouching low.

“Yeah.” Her voice cracks, involuntarily.

God, this girl is a paradox of hypocrisy. First, she doesn't want your sympathy, and now she is a fraying thread of it. Loosened seams all over. You grin at her, rooted tall to the floor several feet away, but you are too in favor of doubt to look grateful now. “Oh, so now it's not bullshit?”

“That was before,” she laughs tentatively, traipsing closer. You leave her fidgeting, the natural gravity of her hand not knowing what to do, where to fall to. Debris crunches under her converse as she stands stock still before you, her stillness an invitation.

Again, she says nothing. Nothing as you aimlessly stare and travel over her little chafings. Waiting on your reply, your movement, your hitches of breath. Hidden languages of the body. There, you would make this mutual, or tell her to fuck off.

Maybe she believes you can benefit her still. Benefit each other.

Yeah, right.

Nothing promising sprouts from what is uncomfortably introduced.

It makes you scoff. “If you’re proposing some sort of win-win deal, then..” You heave briefly from your chest lugging up your backpack as you stand. “I've had my fair share. No thanks.” Telling her to fuck off, cordial as possible.

“Yeah,” she rethinks. “Dumb idea.”

Seeing her face shift is quite the telling. An easy withdraw. Whatever she wanted to do, it wouldn’t work in the long run.

The steel door is guttural when you push on it. Groaning in the hinges, it instills a tension over your shoulder; she is still back there, reloading her guns, probably watching you. It gets you thinking, your hand hesitating. You may have no clue where to go yourself, but it would snip your thorny curiosities if you knew her destination. You know a small something.

“Check the operations base.”

Her shotgun clocks open. “Operations base?”

“Near the stadium. Think Nora is heading there,” you disclose, to entice, glancing over your shoulder. She needed that. “Be careful though, you’re public enemy number one now.”

She collapses her gaze. “Yup.” Her hatred was safely disposed of, so she takes your concern gently.

After all, you remain strangers.

“Hope you get where you’re going.” The shotgun locks back in place.

Now is when you say nothing. You leave, without a spontaneous prayer or hope for her future.

Better to forget this ever happened.

“She wasn’t in any of the polaroids.”

Day closes inside the theater. Abdication takes place in the far-back dressing room, where wounds are dressed, and afterthoughts are festering. Ellie thinks restlessly about it.

What were the chances?

Ellie takes the needle into her riven skin without a flinch. The back of her lungs fill into, with long breaths, the tender palm of Dina, who asks, “Did she have information, at least?” as the suture threads through.

“She could've killed me.” Her fingers creep up her neck, feeling at her collarbones. The thought makes her mind turn. “But..”

Dina finishes with a knot on the carnic reminder. “But you're okay,” she conveys her gratitude. To higher powers, to luck, to you—whoever. She collects the hand from her collarbone, shielding her own over and embracing it against Ellie's abdomen. “Scratched up, obviously, but here. Safe.”

The gesture is fragile. Ellie clutches softly at her own stomach, grooving trails of her fingers. She wants to say something, but her mind everlastingly obsesses over your intel. “She said Nora's stationed in their operations base.” Her arm kindly slips from Dina and ravels into her shirt, tossing it over her head. All this bloodshed has given her a one-track mind. “Somewhere west of here, near a stadium, uh—think that's site two on our map.” She stands and smooths the crinkles. “Thanks for the help, babe.”

Dina can only hope well. “Mhm.” But she loathes this metamorphosis. Day after day, it leaves her feeling secondary. “Just be careful tomorrow, okay?” She has to continue physical contact to keep herself above, rising after Ellie. “We're rootin' for you.” Pressing a smile into her warm neck.

It repurposes itself onto her lips. “Yeah, like my groupie?” Certain smiles Ellie tends to forget she can share, and kiss, even if fleetingly. Thought fades all.

Hard to forget what happened.

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misserabella · 1 year ago

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Anderson’s Anatomy

neurosurgeon abby anderson x fem! reader (pt1)

synopsis; you wake up next to the girl you’d met the night before. but what would happen once you get to your new job and discover you’d just fucked your boss?

cw: +18! minors dni!, implied sex, nudity, kissing, dirty talking, teasing, degradation, tension, sex in a public space (hospital), fingering (r receiving), orgasm denial…

It was your first day of work, and you were already running late. Last night had been a blast. And you had ended up having pretty much the best sex of your entire life.

Her name was Abby. More than 6ft tall, blonde, blue eyes and incredible body. She had been smooth. Really smooth as she had sat down next to you on the bar, offering you a drink. You couldn’t turn her down. She was beautiful, and her voice was making you feel dizzy. You could still remember the touch of her fingertips on your cheek as she brushed off a strand of hair that had fallen on your face, the feeling of her lips when you asked her to kiss you.

The drive back to your house, in which you had moved recently, was quick, but not less than the amount of time it took the two of you to get undressed.

You pulled from your bedsheets, covering your naked body as you got up from the bed. God, your whole body ached, and you could feel the bruises on your inner thighs, her fingers thrusting inside your pussy. You shivered, bitting down on your lip as you looked at her naked body, splayed on your bed, ass showing as she was laying on her front, her braided hair now free and softly laying on your pillow. She looked so relaxed…

You opened your drawers, getting a pair of panties and a bra to start dressing yourself. Abby seemed to hear your fumbling, slowly opening her eyes.

“You need to go.” you said, and she looked at you, raising herself, you really tried to not look at her muscles as she moved to sat up, abs, quads and biceps popping with her movements. Your skin grew in goosebumps at the reminder of how easily she had manhandled you last night.

“Why don’t you get here so we can continue where we left off?” she hummed, and you knew she knew you were tempted. But you shook your head, ignoring the way her eyes trailed down your body as you hooked your bra.

“No. I can’t.” you saw her smirk. “It’s my first day at my new job and I’m running late, something you’re not supposed to do on your first day.” you put on your shirt, before picking up hers from the floor and trashing it against her face. She huffed.

“I can drive you there.” she offered, getting her clothes to join you in getting dressed.

“Thanks. But I’m alright. I’m sure you too have places to be.” she smiled, before getting closer to you, her hands on your hips as her lips kissed softly your neck. For a moment your brain disconnected.

“I do… Into you. But you won’t let me.” you rolled your eyes, slightly pushing her with a sigh and a smile you tried to fight off. y

You dangerously pointed at her. “Keep it in your pants.”

“That’s not what you said last night. Begging so cute to fuck you dumb.”

You groaned, cheeks glowing red, and she chuckled. But still let you go. You pulled your pants up your legs.

“I’ll text you later. Alright?” you promised, and she nodded, cupping your face to leave a messy kiss on your lips.

“You better.”

“Uhm, Nora, excuse me. Lily’s parents are asking some questions. Do you know where her doctor is?” you inquired to your resident, she was scribbling something down on her folder.

“Oh yeah… That would be Anderson. She’s in there talking to some other neurosurgeons, go in.”

“Thanks.” you smiled, nodding and walking towards the rest room. You opened the door and looked at the people inside, but your smile quickly evaporated when you saw her.

Your eyes shot open, your skin growing pale.

“Oh fuck.” you muttered to yourself, quickly trying to get away before she could see you. But it was too late. She already had. She seemed surprised as well, shocked. What were the odds?

You quickly left the room, but she followed you after excusing herself.

“Hey, wait!” you made your way to the stair and she pushed inside, closing the door behind your back.

“Doctor Anderson…” you tried but she cut you off with a smirk.

“Doctor Anderson? It was Abby last night.” you sighed.

“Exactly. Last night. This is a brand new day. And this…” you pointed at the two of you. “, it’s not gonna happen again.”

“Why not?” she inquired.

“Because you’re my boss!” you quieted down as someone passed by you and went down the stairs. You gave them a smile before turning back to her. “I can’t be fucking my boss.”

“Your boss…” she hummed, getting closer. “That’s hot.”

You stepped back. “Abby.”

“Fine.” she rose her hands. “If that’s what you want. I won’t touch you anymore.” you nodded.

“Thank-

“Until you ask me to.” you groaned.

“Abby!”

She tutted. “It’s Anderson for you now, baby.”

“You paged?” she inquired, not even looking at you.

You knew this was for the best. You couldn’t get involved with your boss. It could bring a lot of trouble. It was wrong. But fuck, why the hell did she have to look good all the time?

She was wearing her white coat with her scrubs, her hair on her signature braid, strong arms showing as she wrote down on the medical report.

“Yes. Doctor Anderson, Doctor Moore was asking for a diagnosis on bed 5. Young woman on her 20s…” you followed behind her like a lost puppy as she started walking towards the bed, drawing the curtains. “Melissa Greens. Complains about dizziness, lose or consciousness and extreme headaches. Familiars have also told us that she usually passes out and has mild seizures.” you informed and she nodded.

“Good morning, Melissa. I’m Doctor Anderson. I’m gonna give you a quick exam, is that alright?” the girl turned beet red at her smile, and you felt your stomach turn. “Good. Please follow this pen for me…” she instructed, waving her pen in front of her eyes. “Pupils reactive to light…” she blinded her with its little light. “Fluid movement. Great.” she saved it back on her coat’s pocket. “Let’s do a MRI, put on an IV. Start her on a slow drip. Something for the seizures to make sure she doesn’t move too much during the test. We need a clear image of the brain.” this time she talked to you, and you nodded, taking the necessary things to put on the IV. She was still not moving, inspecting your every move, arms crossed over her chest.

“This won’t hurt.” you promised her with a smile, to what she nodded. You circled her arm with the rubber band so the veins would show up, disinfected the zone, and prepared the needle. “Just a little pinch…” you muttered, as you put it on as quick and as painless as possible. Once it was in, you got out the rubber band, putting some cotton and tape so the IV wouldn’t move. Later on, you took the baggie and hung it on the hooks. “A nurse will be here in a second.” you smiled and she thanked you.

You took some notes, and talked to the nurse, telling her that she’ll need an MRI and to page you when it would be done.

“Good job.” Abby suddenly spoke, and you looked at her.

“Thank you.” you entered the coffee room. You were almost finishing your 24 hour shift, and you were truly exhausted. You needed some coffee. You poured some of it on a cup, trying not to look at her. She trailed up behind you, you could smell the pine of her skin at your back. You sighed.

It had been two weeks since you told her you two couldn’t see each other anymore. And fuck if it was difficult.

“You look good…” she muttered. It was only the two of you in the room. You turned around to face her. Her eyes were bluer than you remembered. They were so pretty…

Your cheeks turned red. You missed her voice so much…

“Doctor Anderson…” you sighed. “We can’t…” she caged you against the counter, her hands on each side of your hips, still not touching you. She hadn’t since the day she told you that first you’d have to ask for it.

“I’m not doing anything.” she smirked, leaning closer, and your eyes fell to her lips. “Something tells me that disappoints you.” your breath hitched, one of her hands pushing behind your ear the hair framing your face.

“I’m not disappointed.” you shook your head, and she chuckled.

Her other hand grabbed your hip, pushing you flush against her. You gasped. You could smell her stupid pine scent, her deodorant. It was intoxicating. “You sure?” she bit down on her bottom lip, and you unconsciously wetted yours with your tongue.

Before you could control yourself, you were tugging from her white coat, crashing your lips against hers. She groaned, pushing you harsher against the counter as her tongue entered your mouth. You whimpered, jumping when her hands tapped on your thighs to pull you up in between her arms and on the counter.

“We should stop.” you muttered in between deep kisses, although you didn’t want to. Fuck. She tasted just like you remembered.

“Yeah.” she agreed, but still pushed her tongue inside your mouth. Her palms felt heavy on your ass, your panties soaking wet and pussy throbbing. You needed her. So bad it was almost like a disease. “Fuck. I’ve missed you.” she muttered against your lips, kisses trailing down your jaw to your neck. Her hands snuck inside the back of your coat and blue medical shirt, feeling up warm skin. “You know how hard is to be professional when you look so fucking good all the time? Even on scrubs. Shit. Makes me go crazy and want to fuck you on one of the surgical beds.” you moan when she sucks on that sweet spot on your neck.

“Me too… Shit. I think about you all the time.” you whimpered, pulling from her braid as you felt her hands move from your back to your chest, squeezing your tits.

“Oh, yeah? All the time?” you could feel one of her hands trailing down your stomach to where you most needed her. And you knew you should stop her. You were on a public space. Somewhere anyone could walk in any time and see the two of you. But her touch felt so good after so much time depriving yourself from it… You cried out when she pushed inside your pants and panties, fingers running through your slick folds and drawing tight circles on your clit.

“All the time.” you promised in a breath, too gone under her touch. She chuckled at the sight. Jaw slack, droopy glazed over eyes, flushed cheeks and swollen lips.

“Aw look at you. Already so fucked out and haven’t even fucked you yet.”

“Abby, please…” you pleaded, your hips thrusting against her touch.

“So it’s Abby now, huh?” she teased you. “Can’t call me Doctor Anderson without thinking about the fact that you’re begging your boss to stuff up your pussy with her fingers?” you blushed so deeply it made her chuckle. And you didn’t answer, yet she still spoiled you by pushing in her middle finger. You two heard the slick sound the entering of her finger inside your tight cunt made, and it made you shiver.

She groaned. “So wet it slid right in.”

You whimpered, trying to muffle out your moans as she started to pump it in and out of you. She wanted to take her time with you, but she knew she couldn’t, so she added a second finger when you seemed to be loose enough before curling them to hit your g spot.

You were so pent up and sensitive that you felt your orgasm creeping in. Her thumb was against your clit, rubbing and stimulating you like you knew you could never do to yourself. How many night you’ve touched yourself with her on mind you wouldn’t know nor count.

“I’m gonna cum…” you sobbed, thighs clenching and shaking, walls tightening around her fingers.

“Oh, yeah?” and before it could hit you, she was pulling her fingers out of you and taking her hands away.

“What the fuck?!” you screamed, your eyebrows knitting together and anger building up on your stomach as you felt the pleasure disappear. You had been so close…

“You want to cum?” she questioned. “You know how to find me.” she pointed at her pager, pushing the two fingers she had plunged deep inside you into her mouth before walking towards the door and leaving, closing it behind her back.

You groaned, jumping down from the counter. You almost squirmed at the wetness in between your thighs. And you surely almost screamed in frustration.

Fuck Abigail Anderson. You didn’t need her.

You absolutely didn’t.

a/n; 🤭 had to do a surgeon abby fic!!

credits for the idea to: @cherriesxinthespring

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jungle-angel · 8 months ago

Text

A Cowboy By Any Other Name (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Summary: Even in adulthood, Rhett still has the most adorable nickname you've ever heard

Warnings: Mentions of adoptions, plans to start a family etc.

Tagging: @floydsmuse @callmemana @attapullman @sebsxphia @bradleybeachbabe

It was one of those Sunday mornings in early spring where you and Rhett had slept deeply, exhausted from the night before and too tired to have switched into your pjs. Amy had crawled in between you, snuggled in the curve of Rhett's elbow with her little Tiger Lily ragdoll Wes and Nora had made for her. The sun had come streaming through the windows of your shared bedroom, shining right onto your faces as Rhett's eyes fluttered open.

He kissed Amy's head before tossing aside the covers to get up, coming over to kiss you before heading downstairs, drawn in by the smell of Cecelia making breakfast for everybody and the hot coffee percolating into the pot.

"Ah first one up I see," she chuckled.

"M'still fuckin tired Ma," Rhett groaned before kissing his mother on the cheek.

"Long night?"

"Like ya'll wouldn't believe," Rhett answered. "First classes and then a ride after."

"Tell me that was your last one."

"Last one, for good this time," Rhett told her. "I ain't gettin banged up anymore."

"Well, I'm glad ya'll did," Cecelia said, cracking a few eggs in the cast iron pan. "Amy needs you and so doesn't (y/n)."

Rhett knew she was right. Amy was still little and desperately needed him around and although you were fairly independent, you needed Rhett just as badly as he needed you. The last time he had gotten banged up from a bull ride had been the week before Amy was born, landing him in the hospital for a week only to return home with his arm in a sling and heavy duty meds for the days after. Thank God he had gotten the woodworking teacher job at the Amelia County Steiner School when he did. It had been a literal lifesaver.

Rhett poured himself some of the fresh steaming coffee into his mug with a little milk from the fridge before you had come downstairs, still heavy headed and groggy.

"Why don't ya'll go back to bed?" Rhett chuckled as you wrapped your arms around his waist.

"Didn't wanna sleep so late," you yawned.

"Sorry to tell you Grumpy," Cecelia said. "But it looks like ya'll are gonna be sharing that coffee."

"Grumpy?" you laughed.

"Rhett bit his lip. "My um.......my nickname."

"Oh my God!" you exclaimed. "That's adorable, how did that one stick?"

"When Rhett was a baby, he'd get all pouty and bore an odd resemblance to Grumpy in Snow White And The Seven Dwarfs," Cecelia explained.

"Aw c'mon Ma," Rhett groaned.

"Oh my God I need to see this!" you said excitedly.

"Oh hold on one sec honey," your mother-in-law laughed.

You and Cecelia went to the credenza in the dining room where she kept all the family photo albums, pulling out a picture of Rhett at three years old with a pouty look on his face.

"Ma what the hell?!" Rhett blurted out.

"Awww look at you and your cute little pouty face," you teased.

Rhett tried to swipe the picture out of your hand but to no avail. When his father came into the dining room, it got ten times worse.

"Hey sugar pea!" Royal called, "Ya'll seen my watch?"

"Fell off the nightstand again," Cecelia answered, holding it up for him.

"Thanks honey," Royal said before he kissed her. "Oh......oh hey now, got the pics?"

"Yeah and I found one of Grumpy with his little pouty face," Cecelia laughed.

"Oh look here's a good one," Royal said as a shit eating grin crawled across his face. "Remember this?"

A laugh escaped your throat as Rhett turned redder than a freshly pulled beet.

"Oh my God I remember that one!" Cecelia exclaimed. "Rhett couldn't have been more than a year old and he went runnin naked through the backyard sprinkler."

"Full moon too!" you blurted out. "You had the cutest lil baby butt ever!"

"DAD PUT THAT THING BACK WHERE IT CAME FROM OR SO HELP ME!!!"

Royal quickly handed off the photo to you before you bolted up the stairs with Rhett hot at your heels, the two of you laughing as he chased you down, pinning you against the wall outside his parents' bedroom.

"You do know Amy's still asleep," you informed him.

"Then gimme the pics."

You two laughed and giggled before Rhett leaned in and pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. You wrapped your arms around him before kissing him again.

"Love you sweetheart," he mumbled.

"Love you too Grumpy," you chuckled.

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #amy abbott #royal abbott #cecelia abbott #royal x cecelia abbott #outer range

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smoooothoperator · 1 year ago

Text

Beautiful Stranger

02: Need To Know

Driver! Lando Norris x OC (Lily Barton)

Summer love, strangers to friends to lovers, Greece and Greek mythology references

Words: 3.3k

Masterlist

Official playlist

previous part | next part

a/n: hello beautiful people! here we have another chapter of this two silly duo. And we have a Spotify playlist!!! If some of you think that I should add more sings please tell me

Every way of feedback is very welcomed

🖌️

"I had a little accident, Nora… it's okay" I sighed looking at how my foot was on a cushion on the coffee table. "I have to rest around three days and then I can go work"

"No, no, no! You won't come in a few weeks! You have a sprained ankle, you have to rest" she protested. "But how did it happen?"

"Well… I just fell and twisted it, easy" I shrugged my shoulders. "But I'm fine, really… don't worry!"

"Just rest, okay? I'll go there and help you with everything you need"

"It's not necessary, Nora. I can walk, you don't have to come"

When the day started I never imagined that something like this could happen: having a stranger in my house cooking my dinner for me because he crashed into me and now I can't move my foot.

On the way back to the apartment complex he was tense all the way, driving carefully and looking around, making sure he won't crash on someone again. We stopped on a pharmacy so I could buy my medicines and even crutches so I could move around without any help.

"Logan, really… it's not necessary" I sighed, looking at him moving around my kitchen after I finished the call with Nora.

"At least let me make your dinner" he said, looking back at me. "Then you won't see me again"

I frowned, raising an eyebrow and sighing. He was nervous, I can tell. It's like when someone wants to clean a crime scene. He wants to make me forgive him for crashing into me.

"You know that will be impossible, we are neighbors and this town is small" I sighed, crossing my arms in front of my chest and watching him move around.

He just remained silent, making my curiosity grow even more. He's British for sure, his accent is too obvious. I'm sure he has money, the perfume I smelt when I was behind him on the scooter seemed expensive. He wears a Lacoste shirt and Ray-Ban sunglasses.

"Why did you come to the town?" I asked him after some minutes of silence studying him.

"What are you talking about?" he frowned, turning around.

"It's obvious you have money, right?" I pointed. "Lacoste, and expensive perfume"

He looked at me and I saw his Adam apple move. Is he nervous?. He doesn't want anyone discovering him?

"What, are you a robber or something? From the mafia?" I laughed.

"W-what? What are you talking about?" he mumbled, making me frown and look at him.

"Why coming to Parga, and not going to… I don't know" I sighed, shrugging my shoulders. "Mykonos or Santorini…"

"Why don't you mind your own business?" he interrupted me, pissed.

"Wow, relax" I laughed. "I'm just joking! Come on, I'm bored. I can't move and you are just making my dinner!"

He sighed and rolled his eyes, looking back at the kitchen. He was making something that looked like a salad, with some lettuce, olives, feta cheese and tomato.

"I came here because I wanted to be on my own" he said.

"Oh, I see..." I nodded, understanding him. After all, that's part of the reason why I came and stayed here. "Then let me tell you that Parga is the perfect place"

He looked over his shoulder at me and I heard him sigh. There's something about him that intrigued me, something that makes me want to know about him.

"How is your hand?" he asked me, putting the salad he made in front of me.

"It's okay" I sighed, looking at the mix of vegetables he made. "Stings a lot, I want to scratch it…"

"You shouldn't" he frowned, grabbing a glass of water and putting the pills I have to take next to it. "And try to not move a lot, you heard what the doctor said. Not even going to the beach"

“But…” I protested, receiving a frown from him, making me groan. “Okay”

He looked at me and stood straight, crossing his arms in front of his chest and sighed. RIght now I feel like when my mother used to give me that cold look because I was doing something wrong, with that disappointed gaze.

“You can leave now” I sighed, grabbing the fork and eating the salad he made. “I can do things on my own. You better go careful after this, I wouldn’t like to crash into someone else if I were you”

He smiled weakly and nodded, grabbing his things and looking back at me before he walked out of the apartment, closing the front door behind him.

What way to finish the day, with a sprained ankle and a neighbor that made my dinner after only knowing his name.

🎮

She has something that makes me want to know about her. Maybe it is the way she lives, her house doesn’t have many personal things, just the necessary.

But what makes me feel curious is the tons of books she owns about Greek mythology or about its history, all the shells she has on jars and the room that is dedicated to paint. She didn’t even cry when we had the crash, just argued with me immediately and tried to do everything by herself, not accepting my help.

After I made her dinner and left her there, I went to my rented apartment. How could she know I am rich only by looking at my shirt and smelling my perfume? She said she was joking, but the way she looked at me made me feel anxious.

She doesn’t know who I am, right? Then why does she look at me that way?

“God, I don’t think I’ll survive in this place” I sighed, my phone in my ear and Carlos at the other side of the line.

“Why? Do you miss me?” he smirked, laughing after that. “What’s wrong with that place?”

“No… the place is nice” I sighed, looking out through the window. “I just… God, I arrived today and I already nearly killed my neighbor”

“What?!” he laughed loud, making me frown and pull away the phone from my ear. “You muppet! No one can leave you alone!”

“Don’t laugh at me! That’s being mean!” I groaned. “I just… I had to lie about my own name because she acted weird, like if she knew who I am”

“So you gave her a fake name? God, can you be more stupid?” he sighed.

“But… What if she discovers who I am! What if she takes a picture of me and posts it on Instagram?” I frown. “People will know where I am and then they’ll come. I don’t want that, mate. I don't want to explain why I'm alone or why I don't have a girlfriend"

"I know, but…" he sighed. "Lying about your name? That's… that's too much, mate"

"Why? I mean, maybe I won't see her again" I sighed. "What's the matter with that?"

"Nothing" he sighed. "If you are okay with it, them it's fine"

I sigh and nod, ending the call and looking at the beach. Lily, my neighbor, wanted to go there and I ruined it. What a great way to start my vacation.

I opened the fridge and grabbed the first thing I found, going to the couch and looking at the wall while eating it. I really want to finish this day and go to bed, forget about what happened and start again.

But then I heard a strong noise, and a groan. And it came from the other side of the wall.

"Lily?" I frown, talking loud. Maybe she could hear me.

I heard her curse and I just got up, walking out of the apartment and going to her door.

When I helped her get inside her apartment after coming from the pharmacy I saw that she always leaves her door unlocked. She might trust the people from here to leave the door like that.

"Lily?" I called her again, standing on the frame of the front door.

"Bathroom" I heard her mumble.

I sigh and walk towards the bathroom, searching for the door of it. And then I saw her on the floor, naked and wrapped in a towel.

"Oh, eh…" I gasp looking around, trying to not look at her body. "What happened?"

"I tried to take a bath but I just fell" she sighed, tightening the towel around her.

"Do you need help?" I sighed. I could feel how my cheeks were getting red.

"Logan…" she said, and then I heard her sigh defeated. "Please?"

"Okay… ehm…" I mumble looking at the ceiling. "You are naked under the towel, right?"

"Yeah" she sighed. "I mean, I have the bottom of the bikini. I fell trying to take it off…"

"Okay, good" I nodded, looking around and finding the top of the bikini. "Can you put it on so I can help you?"

I heard her groan a little and move, sitting on the floor. I reached the top, making sure I didn't look at her, and handed it to her, waiting until she told me she was ready.

"Alright" I nodded.

I looked at her, sitting on the floor. She had small tears in the corner of her eyes, some of them dry. I sighed and looked at the bath, it doesn't have water on it yet, so I opened the key and let the water run until it was warm, butting some shower gel to make sure it made bubbles.

"Did you hurt your hand with the fall?" I asked, kneeling in front of her. She nodded and I just sighed. "Let me see"

"It's okay, Logan… really" she sighed. "You can go back to your apartment"

"No" I frown. "Right now you need someone to help you, and I'm just a door away"

Why did I say that?

"Come on, I'm sure you were busy" she protested. "Really, I'm fine. I can get up and then get in the bathtub on my own"

"God, let me help you, Lily" I sighed, tired of how stubborn she's acting.

She sighed and groaned, giving up.

"Yeah, I hurt my hand" she mumbled, showing it to me. The bandage that was wrapped around her arm to protect the wound she made after falling to the road had a little blood on it. "I think I opened the wound after falling…"

"It's okay" I nodded. "You have a first aid kit here, right? While you are on the bath relaxing I can change the bandage"

"But you don't have to stay here while I take the bath!" she protested, but the moment I looked at her she sighed. "Okay…"

I sigh and stop the water of the bathtub and look at her, picking her up and placing her on it, making sure that the foot with the bandage was held up at the edge of the bathtub. At the start she protested when I held her, saying that she could stand for herself, but it was clearly a way of telling me to stop helping her.

"Can I ask you something?" I said, changing the bandage and putting the cream the pharmacist gave her.

"You are already doing it" she mumbled, groaning softly when I touched the wound.

"Hm, funny" I said sarcastically. "Anyway… why didn't you accept my help?"

She looked at me and sighed. I could feel her eyes scanning me, judging me. Maybe she knows that Logan is not my name. That I'm Lando Norris.

"I don't trust you" she said, shrugging her shoulders. "The only things I know about you is that you are my neighbor in this apartment complex, that you probably are British because of your accent, that your skills driving a scooter are horrendous and that you make good salads"

I looked at her and tried to not laugh. She might be the first person that thinks I cook well, or that at least I make something edible.

"I'm not that bad at driving a scooter" I said laughing softly after I finished wrapping the bandage on her hand. "I'm a good driver"

"A good driver? Let me doubt that" she laughed softly too.

I look at her and smile. Her laugh is cute, at least now the mood is not as tense as before.

I looked at her while she looked away. Her skin is tanned, the kind of tan you get after going all days to the beach. Before she fell to the floor she put her hair on a hair lip that had the shape of a white flower, and the baby hairs of her nape were too short to be with the rest of her hair so now those strands were wet and stuck to her skin. The bikini she's wearing is blue, a color that goes well with her skin and her blue eyes.

If someone told me she is a model I would have believed them.

"I'm from Bristol" I said, sitting on the floor, looking at her. "So yeah, I'm British. And I'm terrible at cooking"

"Makes sense" she nodded. "So you are terrible at driving a scooter and at cooking. What else?"

"I can't sing" I chuckle. "But I know how a DJ set up works"

"Interesting" she laughed. "So, what are you? Some kind of DJ that needs to be away and have a solo trip?"

Actually… it could work.

"Yeah, kinda" I chuckle nervously. "I'm new in that world and I want to discover my own style"

"Ah.. that's cool" she nodded, making me raise my eyebrow. "I'm serious! It's cool"

"Tell me about you, then" I said, nodding at her. "Where are you from? Because I can tell that you have a good English accent but you speak fluent Greek"

"I'm… British, too" she smiled weakly. "But I came here because I loved this country"

"I can tell, you have lots of books about Greece" I nodded, even more curious than before after I saw her weak smile.

"I studied ancient history and I always wanted to be here to live it in first person" she sighed, resting her head in the back of the bathtub.

"And then I thought that you were like some of those girls obsessed with that Mamma Mia movie" I chuckled, trying to ease the mood. "You gave me those Donna vibes when I saw you"

"Who knows? Maybe I'll turn into her in a few years" she laughed softly. "I came here searching for a dream and I'm already living it…"

"That's good" I nodded, curious.

She smiled weakly and sighed, relaxing. I should go back to my apartment, but there's something that makes me want to stay and help her. Maybe it's the fact that I feel guilty, that she's like this because of my fault, because I crashed into her and she got injured.

"Why do you leave the front door unlocked?" I asked her, curious.

"Why not? I trust the people" she said, shrugging her shoulders and looking at me. "I don't have anything to hide or anything they can take from me. People are kind and I'm kind with them. I trust them"

"What if someone comes in the middle of the night to hurt you?" I frown, kinda worried.

"Well… now I don't have to worry anymore, right?" she said with a soft smile on her lips. "I have a neighbor with good hearing sense that would come here to help"

🖌️

The moment I said that I felt immediately stupid. I saw how he looked at me, trying to not laugh. Laugh at me, because of how ridiculous I was.

"I didn't mean to say that" I excused myself quickly, blushing and looking away.

"It's okay" he laughed. "It makes sense, I surprised myself of how quickly I came to help you"

I look at him and blush, laughing to hide the embarrassment. He was putting everything back in the first kit aid, his fingers moving around the things to place them correctly.

His hands are nice, with long fingers and a big palm. There are some bracelets on his wrists, some of them were orange and the other other yellow.

"Eh… can you help me get out?" I asked, somehow shy.

I know that the moment I'll get out of the water, things will happen. Like the bikini top wet and stuck to my breasts, all my body wet and then getting his clothes wet. That's why I didn't want his help, because things would turn back uncomfortable.

"Oh, yeah" he nodded, getting up.

Great, why are you so freaking kind?

I took a deep breath and looked at him standing on the side of the bathtub. He was looking at me, waiting for me to move, but when I stayed still, he frowned.

"Well? You don't want to get out?" he frowned, confused.

"It will be awkward" I sighed.

"It doesn't have to be" he said, and it just made me close my eyes, sighing heavier.

"Logan… my nipples are hard" I said, just to make him understand. "And my whole body is wet, if you help me get up I will make your clothes wet"

"O-oh…" he nodded, now understanding. "Okay… then I'll help you on another way"

I sighed, groaning. He really wants to help, no matter what? How can someone be so stubborn?

"Okay, try not to slip" he said.

I turned my head and saw him standing behind me, holding a towel with his hands. I sighed, really defeated, and rolly eyes.

"You win" I said. "Just… don't let me fall"

I heard him chuckle and then his hands were holding my arms, helping me get up without hurting me. He wrapped the towel around me and I just held it tighter once I was standing in the bathtub.

"Ready?" he asked, wrapping his arm on my back and getting ready to pick me up.

I nodded and then he picked me up, making me hold his shoulders and sigh. He sat me on the toilet and I just looked down, embarrassed.

"I promise this is the last time I take a bath with this thing on my foot" I groan.

"Just… don't hurt yourself again, Lily" he sighed. "You gave me a heart attack when I heard you fall"

I looked up at him and blushed. Okay, no, this can't be a crush. No, no. Get that idea out of your head, Lily.

"I'm sorry I disturbed you" I sighed. "It won't happen again"

"Don't worry" he chuckled. "Do you need help to go to bed?"

"I actually didn't want to go to bed" I said, holding the towel tighter and making sure it didn't fall. "But you can leave, really. I can do things on my own"

"You sure?" he frowned.

"Yeah, Logan. Don't worry" I said. "Good night"

He nodded and walked out, leaving me alone in the bathroom.

This day can't get worse. There's no way it can't get worse.

I sighed, taking off the bikini and putting on clean clothes to finally feel comfortable. The crutches are my big enemy, but if I want to move around I have to wear them, even if I hate it.

I walked, as best as I could, and went to my art room. I needed to do something to take all my emotions of the day out of my mind. I need to take my frustrations out and forget about everything that happened today.

"Well…" I sighed, grabbing my notebook and some pencils after sitting on the chair.

I let the pencil work alone, connected with my brain. I wasn't paying attention, but when I saw what I was drawing I just gasped.

"No way…" I mumble.

The eyes.

His eyes.

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@lestappenloverr @racinggirl @roni-midnights @livster @kakorrhaphiphobia @starkeyellow @celestialpierre @ophcelia @msliz @lorarri @ironmaiden1313 @imsorare @mycenterfold

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femmehysteria · 1 year ago

Text

Best Character Named X Poll

FOLLOW @best-character-named-x-poll

I'm doing a series of "Best Character Named X" polls where all the characters have the same first name but are from completely different media, feel free to send in name/charcacter suggestions, I'm posting one poll a day. New polls scheduled for 1:30PM GMT everyday.

ask box closed for now

WILL BE POSTING POLLS ON @best-character-named-x-poll FROM FEB 1ST

If your favourite character is not included in the poll very sorry i have either never heard of them or actively chose not to include them as theres only 6 characters per poll. Characters will only count of that is their first name, surnames do not count.

Round 85: David

Round 86: Tiffany

Round 87: Charlie

Round 88: Sandy

Round 89: Cody

Round 90: Amanda

Round 91: Jeremy

Past Polls and Poll Ideas under the cut

Names that I have a complete list for*

Caroline, Tyler, Louis, Leonard, Rebecca, Steve, Nicole, Isabelle, Victoria, Katherine, Jade, Alex, Sophie, Greg, Jake, Ellie, Isaac, Robin, Tony, Annie, Lisa, Margaret, Oliver, Clark, Kara, Phoebe, Emma, Ruby, Bart, Alfie, Beth, Julian, Nancy, Penny, Margaret, Tessa, Erica, Theresa, George, Kevin, Sebastian, Felix, Martin, Michael, Erin, Caleb, Helen, Charlotte, Kyle, Martha, Diana, Elsa, Gary, Zoe, Connor, Colin, Daisy, Eric, Maya, Adam, Andy, Magnus, Alma, Nora, Alice, Spike, Leon, Marcel, Kim, Juno, Sue, Chris, Otto, Donald, Daphne, Kate, Todd, Ned, Ken, Angel, Judy, Jo, Hazel, Naomi, Diego, Miranda, Joel, Lila, Duncan, Dexter, Meredith, Pearl, Lily, Malcolm, Napolean, Joan, Nico, Jamie, Nadia, Velma, Jill, Kiera, Rory, Evan, Tam, Klaus, Neil, Derek, Michelle, Luna, Laila, Cordelia, Zack, Imogen, Felicity, Cindy, Alicia, Kelly, Alan, April, Astrid, Delilah, Jodie, Claudia, Juliet, Karen, Jonas, Milo, Celia, Hannah, Joy, Ethan, Katya, Aria, Atticus, Ian, Cynthia, Faye, Frank, Boo, River, Corey, Gabrielle, Minerva, Ebony, Zia, Beverly, Rudy, Georgina

Names I have an incomplete list for (welcome to send character suggestions)

Richter, Sean, Troy, Cain, Agatha, Warren, Percy, Reggie, Mina, Ryan, Felicia, Dylan, Josh, Shirley, Debbie, Jared, June, Mabel, Ray, Chad, Moe, Hugh, Fearne, Christine, Joe, August, May, Scarlet, Alana, Leela, Manny, Dean, Francis, Mason, Oscar, Quinn, Guy, Ulrich, Wally, Yasmin, Tobias, Woody, Sabrina, Quentin, Margot, Alina, Matilda, Freya, Kendra, Angus, Ophelia, Leisel, Zelda, Adora, Piper, Scarlet, Sheila, Valentine, Laurie, Laurel, Fitz, Violet, Gabriel, Ford, Artemis, Owen, Bianca, Newton, Summer, Darcy, Noah, Taylor, Miriam, Hugh, Aurora, Hank, Henry, Dawn, Delia, Cosmo, Wanda, Zeke, Cecil, Aiden, Calvin, Ayesha, Beatrice, Parker, Chase, Hunter, Tina, Misty, Amaya, Amara, Harvey, Talia, Tatiana, Tanya, Orion, Eugene, Kit, Bo, Duke, Blue, Cameron, Rudolf, Mara, Marianne, Carl

Feel free to send more suggestions

*subject to change, you can still submit a character if there is no strikethrough if you think theres a character that its an absolute crime i dont add. Please don't suggest anything for the names with a strikethrough as they are polls that are already in my queue waiting to be published.

Past Polls

Round 1: Peter : WINNER: Peter Parker (Spider-Man)

Round 2: Elizabeth : WINNER: Elizabeth Swann (Pirates of the Caribbean)

Round 3: Jason : WINNER: Jason Mendoza (The Good Place)

Round 4: Eve : WINNER: EVE (WALL-E)

Round 5: Fred : WINNER: Fred Jones (Scooby-Doo)

Round 6: Rachel : WINNER: Rachel (Animorphs)

Round 7: Arthur : WINNER: Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)

Round 8: Amy : WINNER: Amy Pond (Doctor Who)

Round 9: Tom : WINNER: Tom (Tom and Jerry)

Round 10: Claire : WINNER: Clare Devlin (Derry Girls)

Round 11: James : WINNER: James (Pokemon)

Round 12: Max : WINNER: Max (Black Sails)

Round 13: Simon : WINNER: Simon Belmont (Castlevania)

Round 14: Jane : WINNER: Jane Crocker (Homestuck)

Round 15: Victor : WINNER: Victor Nikiforov (Yuri On Ice)

Round 16: Mary : WINNER: Mary Poppins (Mary Poppins)

Round 17: Will : WINNER: Will Graham (Hannibal)

Round 18: Laura : WINNER: Laura Palmer (Twin Peaks)

Round 19: Ben : WINNER: Ben "Obi-Wan" Kenobi (Star Wars)

Round 20: Chloe : WINNER: Chloe Price (Life Is Strange)

Round 21: John : WINNER: Jonathan Sims (The Magnus Archives)

Round 22: Lydia : WINNER: Lydia Deetz (Beetlejuice)

Round 23: Mark : WINNER: Marc Spector (Moon Knight)

Round 24: Jess : WINNER: Jesse Pinkman (Breaking Bad)

Round 25: Theo : WINNER: Theobald Gumbar (Dimension 20: A Crown Of Candy)

Round 26: Sarah: WINNER: Sarah Jane Smith (Doctor Who)

Round 27: Richard : WINNER: Richard Gansey III (The Raven Cycle)

Round 28: Cass : WINNER: Cassandra Cain (Batman)

Round 29: Edward : WINNER: Edward Elric (Fullmetal Alchemist)

Round 30: Carm : WINNER: Carmen Sandiego (Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?)

Round 31: Hal : WINNER: HAL9000 (2001: A Space Odyssey)

Round 32: Sid : WINNER: Sydney Adamu (The Bear)

Round 33: Jack : WINNER: Captain Jack Harkness (Doctor Who)

Round 34: Stephanie : WINNER: Stephanie Brown (Batman)

Round 35: Ash : WINNER: Ash Ketchum (Pokemon)

Round 36: Veronica : WINNER: Veronica Sawyer (Heathers)

Round 37: Kurt : WINNER: Kurt Wagner aka Nightcrawler (X-Men)

Round 38: Eleanor : WINNER: Eleanor Shellstrop (The Good Place)

Round 39: Nathan : WINNER: Nathan Young (Misfits)

Round 40: Fiona : WINNER: Princess Fiona (Shrek)

Round 41: Gale : WINNER: Gayle Waters-Waters (Chris Fleming)

Round 42: Barbara : WINNER: Barbara Millicent Roberts aka Barbie (Barbie)

Round 43: Sam : WINNER: Samwise Gamgee (Lord of the Rings)

Round 44: Grace : WINNER: Grace Chastity (Nerdy Prudes Must Die)

Round 45: Barry : WINNER: Barry Bluejeans (The Adventure Zone)

Round 46: Raven : WINNER: Raven (Teen Titans)

Round 47: Dan : WINNER: Danny Fenton (Danny Phantom)

Round 48: Mia : WINNER: Mia Fey (Ace Attorney)

Round 49: Matt : WINNER: Matt Murdock (Daredevil)

Round 50: Rose : WINNER: Rose Tyler (Doctor Who)

Round 51: Robert : WINNER: Robbie Rotten (LazyTown)

Round 52: Lola : WINNER: Lola Bunny (Space Jam)

Round 53: Scott : WINNER: Scott Summers aka Cyclops (X-Men)

Round 54: Olivia : WINNER: Olivia Octavious (Spiderverse)

Round 55: Finn : WINNER: Finn the Human (Adventure Time)

Round 56: Emily : WINNER: Emily Charlton (The Devil Wears Prada)

Round 57: Elliot : WINNER: Eliot Spencer (Leverage)

Round 58: Sonia : WINNER: Sonia (Pokemon)

Round 59: Gideon : WINNER: Gideon Nav (The Locked Tomb)

Round 60: Jen : WINNER: Jennifer Check (Jennifer's Body)

Round 61: Miles : WINNER: Miles Morales (Spider-Man)

Round 62: Lana : WINNER: Lana Skye (Ace Attorney)

Round 63: Spencer : WINNER: Spencer Shay (iCarly)

Round 64: Tracy : WINNER: Tracy Turnbald (Hairspray!)

Round 65: Luke : WINNER: Luke Skywalker (Star Wars)

Round 66: Natalie : WINNER: Natalie Scatorccio (Yellowjackets)

Round 67: Harry : WINNER: Harry Du Bois (Disco Elysium)

Round 68: Lucy : WINNER: Lucy van Pelt (Peanuts)

Round 69: Damian : WINNER: Damian Wayne (Batman)

Round 70: Tabitha : WINNER: Tabitha Casper (Dan and Phil Games: Sims 4)

Round 71: Nick : WINNER: Nicholas D. Wolfwood (Trigun)

Round 72: Gwen : WINNER: Guinevere (Merlin)

Round 73: Paul : WINNER: Paulette Bonafonte (Legally Blonde)

Round 74: Abigail : WINNER: Abigail Hobbs (Hannibal)

Round 75: Jordan : WINNER: Jordan Baker (The Great Gatsby)

Round 76: Donna : WINNER: Donna Noble (Doctor Who)

Round 77: Morgan : WINNER: Morgana (Merlin)

Round 78: Allison : WINNER: Alison Cooper (BBC Ghosts)

Round 79: Patrick : WINNER: Patrick Star (Spongebob Squarepants)

Round 80: Linda : WINNER: Linda Belcher (Bob's Burgers)

Round 81: Philip : WINNER: Philip J. Fry (Futurama)

Round 82: Clarisse : WINNER: Clarisse La Rue (Percy Jackson)

Round 83: Jeff

Round 84: Maria

#best character named x #poll #poll game #my post

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lilylovesundertale · 2 years ago

Note

Release the Demons! but it Fandom

Devil: So... I assume you're all wondering why I summoned you here today. Let me tell you about this... Cup (clenching his left fist).

Henchman: ...Head.

Devil: Thank you... Henchman. Never before, have I been subjected to such criminal disrespect, by a mortal.

Devil: I mean... who can't her name is Adrienn Banai... 🎵 Twinkle... Twinkle... Little... Star... Darling...🎵

Henchman: Oh Thanks boss, Your so cute.

Devil: Alright henchman, now where is she? (Devil is Paper human female Missing child) A one human-female name is Adrienn Banai has Seventeen year age his Family Hungarian of German.

Henchman: Uh boss, what is that her?

Devil: Yes, i Gotta go to tell her.

(Also, The devil looking in female human sleeping under the bed and snoring but it woke up)

AdriennBanai: Oh hello there Mr. devil, nice to meet you 💕

Devil: Listen darling, I'm going to need you to trust me, okay? hmm

AdriennBanai: oh devil your so cute... i love you so much master

Devil: ooh thank you so much darling i love you too...

(when he give her a hug, and then the devil kiss her Adrienn-Banai 😘)

Devil: oh okay darling i need to have do not disturb Alright.

AdriennBanai: Okay Mr. devil 🥰

Lily: ...Nora.. what are we supposed to say here

Nora: uh.... I don't know

Lily: well good work trying to raise a child I guess...?

Nora: ... Maybe we should have a baby when we get older

Lily:*begins blushing*

#lily aquado au #ask answered #lily x nora

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lilylovesfoxs · 2 years ago

Text

Lily aquado reboot chapter 5 struggling with love

Lily: so let me get this straight you're going to teach me psy blast

Sasha: indeed off the wall you need focus and balance

Lily: what does balance have to do with that

Sasha: you'll see in the future lily

-Meanwhile ln coaches mind-

Nora: I don't understand we just met yesterday how come I have feelings for her

Star: well I mean to be fair she didn't do a pretty good job

Nora: I'm worried about her

Star: don't worry I'm pretty sure she's doing great with Sasha

Oleander: WHAT ARE YOU TWO TALKING ABOUT SOLDIERS

Nora: Lily *star smacked her in the back of the head before apologizing* nothing

Oleander: LOVE IS NATURAL SOLDIER

Nora: it is?

Star: why are you yelling at us

Oleander: oh I didn't realize I was yelling soldier

-back with lily-

Lily:*blushing* why can't I not stop thinking about her I keep missing my target *and some bouncing off and blasting off her cast*

Lily: WHY IS EVERYTHING GREEN!? *Got forced out of his mind*

Sasha:*walks over* your psychic energy seems to be healing your injuries which is weird I never seen anything like this it's interesting

Lily: but it's not normal *voice begins glitching and water begin floating around her despite the fact theres no water around* I AM NOT NORMAL

Sasha: lil-

Lily: WHAT'S THE POINT OF EVERYTHING IF I CAN'T BE NORMAL

-back with star and Nora-

Nora: I wonder how she is

*they saw the water tornado*

Star: HOLY COW

Nora: BABE-I I mean Lily

-back with lily-

Lily:*voice glitching* I AM NOT SPECIAL!*water floating turns into ice*

Sasha: Lily I need you to calm down *pulling out psy portal*

*the psy portal got blasted by water *

Sasha: this might be a bit of a problem

Nora: LILY

Star: why it's your left eye green!?

Lily: *voice glitching* IM. NOT. SPECIAL *more water surrounded her*

Nora: STOP LYING TO YOURSELF-*move out of the way of a ice shard*

Star: I thought you got rid if all the nightmares

Nora: we did but she must be hiding something... I hope she's okay I cannot lose her

Sasha: it's too dangerous for you children I'll go *manages to throw the psy portal* in the meantime run!* Goes into her mind*

Nora: we need to calm her down

Star: HOW SHE'S PRACTICALLY GOING TO DROWN US

Nora: *pulls out fox stuffed animal and all the ice shards stopped*

Lily:*voice glitching* ...føx...?

Nora:

Lily:*begins walking over gently grabbing the stuffed animal* ...føx

*the water tornado fell and if anyone got washed away*

Nora: hun are you okay

Lily: ... I'm sorry I don't know what happened everything just went...

Nora:*hug her* it's okay everything's going to be okay

To be continued*

#lily aquado au #psychonauts au #psychonauts #lily aquado re master #lily x nora

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dreamypqulson · 2 years ago

Text

— hold me into the new dawn

requested by anon: Would you be able to write something sad/hurt/comfort with Doris Gardner?

summary: after surviving provincetown, you are left with the night terror’s that comes with it, luckily you have doris to bring you back to safety.

pairing: doris gardner x female reader

word count: 1300

a/n: pretend harry isn’t in this gif🥴

It was the trembling bed that woke Doris up. Whimpers echoed against the silent four walls but the sound was loudest beside her. She heard her name being called somewhere between the cries and pleads but she could not pin point the rest.

Her eyes fully adjusted to the darkened room. She leaned up onto her elbows, and to the moonlight seeping through the curtains, it illuminated your distressed body.

Your movements only got stronger, harsher, the longer it went on. Doris’s chest was overwhelmed and riddled with anxiety. When you loudly whimpered out her name once more, your body greatly shook and she decided that she could not leave you like this.

“Y/n!” She said but her voice did not pass a mere whisper. She lightly shook you but to no avail. “Y/n, honey!” Her voice grew louder, the hands shaking your body becoming far more hastier.

The torture had finally ended, but she wasn’t sure that it was from her own doing. You shot up in bed, chest heaving and face beat red from the fight you’ve put up without even being conscious.

Your eyes frantically searched the room, looking for Doris everywhere except for the once place you typically knew she would be. Finally, you looked beside you, emotion crashed over you face when you saw the pure concern on her own.

“D— Doris,” you sobbed, and your face completely crumbled into your hands. She immediately took action, wrapping her arms around your body, so fragile in the moment. “I— I thought you died!”

You fell back into her embrace. Her sweet scent of vanilla filled you up. You could feel Doris’s stomach rise and fall as she took each breath but you just refused to believe that the woman’s pulse was still pulsing and that her lungs were still inflating, deflating, with air. The night terror had been so real that you hardly believe that your girlfriend holding you is truly there.

“It was just a bad dream, sweetie,” she whispered in your ear. The blonde woman brushed her fingers through your hair to calm you, gently untangling the knots that your erratic movements had caused. “I’m here. I’m right here with you. It’s over now.”

Doris softly shushed you, whispering the sweetest of nothings in your ear. It hadn’t been the first time this had occurred, but certainly the most terrifying. Ever since you and Doris had moved back home after Provincetown, you had awful night terrors. What you and Doris had went through and saw had scarred you.

You nuzzled your head into Doris’s neck, attempting to protect yourself from the outside. She let her hands drop to your back, sneaking under your shirt to lightly scratch the skin there. She could feel your rapid breaths from beneath her finger tips. It concerned her. “Breathe, honey. Deep breaths, in and out. You’re safe now.”

You picked up a piece of her long, silky hair, twirling it between your fingers to distract yourself while you follow her instructions.

She pulls you back and cups your cheeks with her cold hands, staring into your eyes with a gentle smile and scrunched nose. It’s nearly impossible to not smile back when she gives you that face, she knows it too. You advert your eyes elsewhere to avoid your own blush.

She places her forehead against yours; it causes you to look back at her. Her skin against yours somewhat grounds you. “Ready? Breathe in four.”

You comply, breathing in for four beats with your girlfriend.

“Hold four.” Doris taps her thumb four times on your cheek to counts along with the seconds.

“And out eight.”

You finally release a long breath. Doris keeps her forehead firmly against yours and you keep your eyes down in shame. You woke her up in the middle of the night for this. You felt horrible.

“Tea and some fresh air?” Doris says, rather than asks. She knows you need to breathe your own air. To have something other than this stuffy room to relax and calm you.

The walk downstairs was all too quick. For the majority of it, you kept your eyes shut and head down on Doris’s chest. You were still shaken up, frightened that the pale men would grab you from her reach.

Doris stops when you walk by the kitchen. "I'm gonna make you some tea, sweetheart. Go head out to the front porch."

You whine and grips Doris’s arm even tighter. You feel like a child but you simply do not want to be alone right now. She sighs but completely understands. “Alright. Come on,”

Doris brings you into the kitchen with her. She turns on the light and the brightness has you both squinting at such a late hour. The house is silent besides the tea pouring into the ceramic mug. Your girlfriend listens to your breathing to make sure you’re steady. You listen to Doris’s breathing to make sure that it was truly just a nightmare and she is, in fact, alive and well.

Doris then, with a steamy mug in one hand and your shaky hand in the other, walks out onto the porch. It's foggy out and there's no cars on the road. It feels like a fever dream that neither of you want to wake up from.

You both sit down on two chairs that are right beside the door. She hands you your tea, although worried that you’ll spill it with shaky hands.

You don’t spill it. You don’t drink it either. You simply stare into the mug as if there was a film playing on it. You stare so intently like it's the most interesting thing.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Doris suddenly asks, and for a moment, the silent streets make her sound so loud. Like the entire world can hear. But it’s only the two of you. It has only ever been the two of you.

Your lip trembles and you refuse to look up. A tear drop falls into your tea instead. You want to place the mug down and lunge herself into Doris, but you can't. You’re stuck.

“I— I don’t know. I’m just so scared, I almost lost you back in that hell town. I don’t want that to ever happen again. Doris, I need you in my life. I— I—,” you begin to uncontrollably sob again, so much that you lose your train of thought.

Doris shushes you and she places your mug down on the small table for you too.

"I'll never leave you," She grabs both of your hands, holding them in hers. "Never. Do you hear me, honey? They’re gone. It’s over. And now i’ll be here for the rest of our life. I promise.”

You finally crumble. Doris catches you and she lightly tugs you onto her on her lap. "All that matters..." She puts your hand onto her own chest. "Is this." She guides your fingers along her beating heart. You subconsciously traces a heart onto the soft flesh.

"And this" Doris taps her own free fingers against

your chest. She can feel your heart finally beating slower, at a less concerning rate than it was just a few minutes ago. "And they're both still beating. They'll still be beating for years and years from now, alright?"

You nodded, and then put your ear against Doris’s chest. You contently listened to the thumping sound. The pattern never once faltering. You would listen to it over and over until it put you to sleep just like a lullaby would for a child.

Doris sat there, awake, holding you protectively incase of another scare. But she was certain that wouldn't happen again, because your subconscious could hear the beating of her heart against your ear. This time, she is real, she is alive, she is here with you.

taglist: @loverofallthingssarah @goodeday2u @lanawinters-ily @strawberryshorttcakkee @sapphicforsarahh @ahsfan05 @stayevildarling @isle-of-earle @cordithatgurl @mistysswampmud @billiedeansbitch @billiedeanspearls @cigaretteology @favoriteredhead @lovingsarah @cordeliass @citizenoftheworld-stuff-blog

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#american horror story #wlw #ahs #doris gardner #doris gardner x reader #ahs fanfiction #lily rabe #lily rabe x reader #misty day #nora montgomery #sister mary eunice #shelby miller #lavinia richter #emma hall #sylvia steineitz #lesbian #sarah paulson

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