𝓷𝓪𝓶𝓮 ┊ mopper
𝓹𝓻𝓸𝓷𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓼 ┊ she/her
𝔃𝓸𝓭𝓲𝓪𝓬 ┊ sagittarius sun, virgo moon, leo rising
𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮𝔃𝓸𝓷𝓮 ┊ est
𝓯𝓾𝓷 𝓯𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓼 ┊
↳ i have 18 cats and 3 dogs, i can post pictures of them if anyone is interested.
↳ i am in nursing school and i work full time so i'm busy constantly, but i will try to update chapters as often as possible.
𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓫𝓵𝓸𝓰 ┊
↳ i currently only have the one fanfic going and i don't currently have time for any requests, but i will answer any questions anyone may have about my fic as best as i can.
saw this being debated and just wanted to talk about it too.
"is it rude if I politely ask a writer if they use ai or chatgpt on their works because I'm almost certain they do?"
yes, it is rude. no matter how polite you are being when you ask them this.
you say you are almost certain. so you are not absolutely certain.
unless you are absolutely, undoubtedly certain — with actual proof — that their writing is ai generated, never ever ask an artist if their work is ai generated.
I know several writers who would stop writing and delete all of their works if they were ever accused of using ai. so it doesn't matter if you are polite when you ask them this, you are suggesting that their works are ai generated, that they didn't create the works they could have spent hours, days, weeks, months or years working on.
ai and chatgpt are trained on real humans' works, they are trained to mimic the way real humans write. so if you say a genuine writer's work "looks ai", I'm gonna have to ask you what you think ai was trained on.
a writer whose English isn't their first language may also write in a way that "looks ai" to some, if they write in English and have to rely on translator.
using em dash isn't a sign of ai. I do it all the time. my fellow writers all love em dash.
having long paragraphs with "overly described scenes" isn't a sign of ai. I do it all the time, and so do my fellow writers.
all the "ai signs" are actually just what most writers actually do. they get mistaken for "ai signs" because sometimes the way writers write or describe a scene in a fanfic or an original work is different than the way people talk or text. because they're writing a fic and describing a scene, not chatting with a friend. the way I talk is different than the way I write my fics.
if you suspect a work was ai generated, but are not 100% sure, you can always just stop reading said work without saying anything.
if someone does use ai to write, they will either a.) deny and continue using ai to write or b.) admit because they see nothing wrong with it and continue using ai to write.
if a genuine writer was wrongly accused of using ai, they may stop writing altogether.
asking a writer if they use ai or chatgpt to write will always do more harm than good. witch hunting will always do more harm than good.
you are not "fighting against ai" by throwing around such accusations. you are harming genuine writers and artists.
Synopsis: A financially struggling university student makes a desperate mistake during a physics exam and catches the attention of her cold, calculating professor. What begins as academic discipline quietly twists into something far more intimate and dangerous, blurring lines of power, consent, and control. As fear, dependence, and desire intertwine, she finds herself pulled into a psychological spiral where obedience feels safer than resistance—and escape grows harder the deeper she’s drawn in.
THIS CONTAINS SEXUAL AND DISTURBING CONTENT SOME READERS MAY FIND UNCOMFORTABLE
a/n: here is chapter two! i’m hoping to upload a chapter a week, but with school and work, that may not be possible sometimes but i will do my best to keep everyone updated. special shout out to my friends maddy and phoenix for helping me proofread this and for giving me the confidence to post it. if anyone is interested i do have this story in its original form on ao3 since i change it to second person to post it here. i hope you enjoy!
cw: graphic violence, intense peril, panic responses, and emotional distress.
Tag list: @liifeunwritten
In the end you didn’t tell anyone else that you were leaving. The decision had been made during whispered conversations in private, mostly in the middle of the night, where the others wouldn’t overhear you. You gathered supplies carefully, not wanting to take too much and alert the others to your plan, and you slipped away in the cover of darkness while the rest of the remaining Fireflies slept.
Abby had said that the journey to Jackson was dangerous and you didn’t know what you would find when you got there. Would the settlement still be there? Would it be as good as you had heard that it was? Living like that seemed like something so far outside the realm of possibility in this world, but you knew it was true. Once or twice Abby had suggested that maybe joining the WLF would be better, considering that you knew what to expect there, but you adamantly refused, sealing your fate and solidifying Abby’s choice.
You left notes behind for your friends, tucked away under their pillows or in their bags, explaining where you had gone and encouraging them to stick to the plan and join the WLF. Maybe it was cowardly to leave without saying a proper goodbye, but you knew if you had done that you never would’ve made it out. Someone would have argued, someone would have begged for you to stay, someone would have tried to follow you. That wasn’t part of the plan though, so this was the only way to go.
Before leaving you found a map and spent hours by the dim light of a lamp pouring over it and reasoning out the best way to get to Jackson from where you were. You argued over routes, debating if using highways or back roads would be better, picking which towns and cities to try and avoid based on your limited knowledge of the areas as you mapped out the best possible route to Jackson as well as a few back up plans. You loaded extra gas canisters into the car, wedging them in where you could along with as many supplies as you could reasonably carry or take without raising suspicion.
When everything was fully packed you turned the key and you set off into the dark.
The car was quieter than you were used to, finding it surreal to be driving a car without your smartphone blasting your favorite curated playlist from the speakers. This car had a couple of random CD’s in the console, they were old and scratched and unlabeled, but for now you chose the silence.
“Do you regret not asking Owen to come with us?” you questioned Abby, glancing at her.
Abby sighed, taking her time to gather her thoughts before responding.
“I don’t,” she said slowly. “What we are doing is dangerous and I would rather be away from him and know he’s safe than have him with me worrying that I might lose him too.” She reasoned, jaw tightening before continuing. “I can’t…. I can’t lose him too.” she said, her voice softer than before.
“Oh,” you said, your voice light and teasing to try to pull Abby out of her darker thoughts. “So you’re fine if I die on this trip, but not your boy toy?”
Abby scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Of course not, but you’re determined to do this. At least if I’m with you we have a fighting chance.” She said, as if the thought of her being okay with losing you was the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard. “Plus if you go down I’m going down with you. There is no way I’m making it through any of this without you.”
You glanced at her, a soft smile playing on your lips. “That’s kind of sweet, in a really macabre way.”
“Of course it’s sweet, I’m always sweet.” Abby countered with a chuckle, making you laugh out loud.
“Yes, you’re the sweetest with all your sarcastic commentary,” you said, shaking your head.
“Hey, don’t even start. You’re just as bad.” Abby countered before you lapsed into a comfortable silence.
Abby fell asleep not long after that, leaving you alone with just your thoughts and the dark empty road around you.
So much had happened in just a few days and you were still trying to settle into this life, this impossible reality that you had suddenly found yourself in with no feasible way out. Part of you longed for your old life, your friends, your job, your apartment, your cat, all of the luxuries of a normal world that didn’t exist here.
The other part of you was content even in the danger and uncertainty of this life. You had Abby. You had memories and emotions tying you to the girl. You were best friends, and she was enough of a grounding presence to make your fear feel more manageable. For now it was enough; it had to be enough.
——————
It didn’t take long for you to get frustrated with how slow your progress had been. Some stretches of road were wide open, almost deceptively easy, but more often than not you found yourselves weaving around abandoned cars or hitting dead ends where the road just simply no longer existed. Backtracking again and again grated on your nerves, but you supposed it was better than walking.
You stopped in a small town just off the highway when you spotted a mini mart that looked mostly intact. It wasn’t much, but it might have supplies and that made it worth checking out.
You took your time circling the building, scanning for movement and listening for anything suspicious. After you were satisfied the area was quiet, you dragged a dumpster beneath a high broken window at the back of the building. You winced as the dumpster scraped across the pavement before climbing on top and through the window. You both crouched low as soon as your feet met the floor, Abby holding a finger up to her lips to signal you should be quiet.
‘No shit sherlock,’ you mouthed at Abby, rolling your eyes and making her chuckle softly. Moving out of the small bathroom you had landed in, you began methodically sweeping the main floor.
You held your breath as you moved through the aisles, the boarded-up windows only letting in minimal light, so even in the daylight, it was dark and shadows created shapes that made you jump on more than one occasion. You finally met in the middle of the store, allowing yourselves a short moment to relax just a bit.
“We should check the back room.” Abby said, starting that way with you following her. In the dark, you couldn’t see the empty can on the ground until Abby kicked it, and it was already clattering across the floor.
You both froze, and for a heartbeat there was nothing and you thought you might make it out of this unscathed.
Then a sickly rattle could be heard making its way from the back room along with grunts and growls that sounded entirely inhuman.
Infected.
“Shit,” Abby muttered, turning to you. “Just stay calm, we can handle a couple infected.” She said firmly, and you couldn’t do anything but nod and pray that she was right.
The infected started moving around the store, looking for the source of the noise. From what you could hear, there was at least one clicker and probably three or four runners. That was manageable, right?
Swallowing hard and willing your hands not to shake, you moved to the opposite side of the aisle you and Abby were on, sweeping the area as you tried to find the infected before the infected found you. Your heart leapt into your throat as you came across one of them, a runner with its back turned to you. Pausing for a moment, you holstered your gun to pull out your knife, knowing a sneak attack would probably work better. You slowly approached the infected while crouched to hopefully remain undetected.
Then you pounced. Wrapping an arm around the infected’s chest, you roughly pulled it back into you, struggling to hold onto him as you plunged the knife into its neck. The blade slipped into the rotten sinew with ease. The infected screeched and bucked roughly against your grip before it finally fell to the ground, dead. You barely had time to pull your knife out of its neck before you heard the others rushing towards you.
You were quick as you whipped your pistol out of its holster and fired at the first one who rounded the corner—Abby flanked them to assist. Two more fell as the clicker came into view and rushed you.
Panicking, you tried taking a couple of steps back, but tripped on the body of the first infected, falling and landing on your back hard enough to knock the air from your lungs. You didn’t have time to react before the clicker jumped, pinning you to the linoleum.
“No! No—get off of me!” you screamed, your legs flailing to kick the monster off of you.
“Abby! Abby! Please!” you shrieked, panic taking over. Suddenly a loud gunshot rang through the air and the clicker’s screeches trickled before silencing, then it fell over limp. You scrambled out from under the thing as Abby helped pull you up off the ground.
You trembled. Your breaths came in sharp, frantic pants as you frantically ran your fingers along your skin, checking over and over. Tears slid down your cheeks as a horrid, awful thought imbedded itself in your mind: was I bitten?
“Elody! El.” Abby said, grabbing your hands and squeezing them tight. “Are you okay? Were you bit? Let me see.” Her voice shook with adrenaline.
“N-no, I don’t think so,” you managed between gasping breaths. “I… I think I’m okay.” Your breathing stuttered still as Abby pulled you into a bone-crushing hug. You held her just as tightly.
“Don’t do that to me, don’t you ever do that again.” Abby murmured. The fear in her voice was loud.
“I won’t, I won’t, Abs. I promise.” you answered, burying your face in Abby’s neck. The familiar rhythm of your hummingbird heartbeats eventually slowed, returning to normal, grounding you both.
After taking the time to calm down, you finished your sweep of the building, finding no more infected and quickly scavenged for useful supplies before leaving as quickly as you could.
————–
You were quiet as you got back on the road, the adrenaline slowly bleeding out of your system. You sat curled in the passenger seat, knees drawn up to your chest, arms wrapped tight around them like you were holding yourself together by force of will alone. Your hands were still shaking and you were willing them to stop as you kept replaying the encounter over and over again in your head.
“You doing okay over there?” Abby asked, glancing at you without taking her eyes off the road for long.
“Yeah,” you murmured. Your voice felt far away, like it didn’t quite belong to you. “I think I might be in shock or something.”
Abby’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “It was a close call,” she said. “But you’re okay. We made it through.” She said, shooting you a small, reassuring smile.
You took a deep breath, held it, then let it out slowly, in an attempt to ground yourself even further. You turned your head to look at Abby.
“We did,” you said, managing a faint smile of your own. “And I’ll try to keep my klutziness to a minimum while we’re dealing with infected.”
Abby huffed a quiet laugh. “I’ll hold you to that.” She shook her head slightly. “I told you, you go down, I’m going down with you. So I’d really appreciate it if you stayed alive.”
“I’ll do my best,” you replied.
That earned another small smile, and then you fell into a comfortable silence. The road stretched on ahead of you, empty and dark, only illuminated by your headlights. You were going faster than you probably should have, trying to make up lost time, lulled into a false sense of safety by the open road and the lack of obstacles.
You saw movement out the corner of your eye, opening your mouth to say something, but you weren’t fast enough.
A deer burst into the headlights, massive and sudden, frozen for a split second in the glare.
“Abby! Watch out!” you yelled.
Abby swore and yanked the wheel. The tires screeched as you lost traction, the world tilting violently to the side. You grabbed the door handle to brace yourself as your heart beat violently in your chest, and the world around you spun until the sound of crunching steel and shattering glass filled the air as the car slammed into the tree, the force snapping you forward against your seatbelt as everything went white.
Synopsis: You wake up one to find that you are no longer in your world, but the world of The Last Of Us on the day that Joel Miller kills Abby’s father. You have memories from both realities so you know what dark path Abby will walk down if she joins the WLF. As her best friend in this reality you can’t let that happen, so you change things.
A/n: This is my first published fic so constructive criticism is welcome, just be kind. I also originally wrote this in third person so if there are any errors on that front just let me know so I can fix them. This is going to be a multi part story with eventual romance and spicy scenes when the characters are old enough. It will be worth the wait. Enjoy!
cw: parental death, gore, violence, grief, y/n used, i’m probably forgetting about a billion things but my brain is fried.
You woke with a violent gasp, your body jolting upright as though you’d been dragged back from the edge of something terrible. Cold sweat soaked through your clothes, the fabric clinging uncomfortably to your skin. Your heart hammered against your ribs, too fast, too loud, and for a moment you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t remember where you were.
Your room was wrong. Bare concrete walls, a narrow bed, a single lamp bolted to a metal table. No soft clutter, no familiar mess, no quiet hum of modern life. You turned slowly, dread crawling up your spine as your gaze swept the unfamiliar space.
And then the pain hit.
It slammed into your skull like a spike, white-hot and blinding, forcing a sharp cry from your throat as you clutched your head. The room tilted violently, your vision swimming as memories began to surge too fast, too many, piling on top of one another until you thought you might vomit.
Your life flooded back first. Childhood. School. Nursing lectures and clinical rotations. Long shifts, exhaustion, coffee that was never strong enough. Your small apartment, quiet except for the soft padding of your cat’s paws. The normalcy of it all.
Then, something else.
Gunfire. Concrete hallways echoing with boots. Training yards. Scarred hands and bloodied knuckles. The smell of sweat and antiseptic. The weight of a rifle slung over your shoulder like it had always belonged there.
Abby. Owen. Mel. The Salt Lake crew. Growing up in the apocalypse. Your breath hitched sharply as you squeezed your eyes shut, nausea rolling through your stomach.
What the fuck is happening to me?
A sharp knock on the door cut through the spiral of your thoughts. You flinched, heart jumping painfully into your throat. Another knock followed, firmer this time.
“Hey, y/n, open up. It’s Abby.”
Your stomach dropped.
That voice was low, familiar, real and sent a fresh wave of dizziness crashing over you. You pushed yourself to your feet, swaying as vertigo threatened to pull you back down. Your head throbbed mercilessly, each heartbeat like someone driving nails into your skull.
You staggered toward the door, fingers trembling as you wrapped them around the handle. The hallway light stabbed into your eyes the moment you cracked it open, making you hiss in pain and recoil instinctively.
“Oh shit, are you okay?”
Abby was there. She was real and solid and close enough that you saw the concern etched into her face, the way her brows pulled together as her eyes searched yours.
Before you could respond, Abby was already moving, guiding you gently but firmly back into the room.
“Easy,” Abby murmured, one strong arm reaching out to steady you. “You’re pale as hell.”
You didn’t respond at first, couldn’t respond, because you were trying to reconcile within yourself the fact that Abby Anderson was actually there. She was here and solid and not just a character living on your television screen. She was real. How was she real? None of this made any sense and you could barely focus on anything besides the pain in your head and the dizziness making the room spin.
You dropped your head into your hands, pressing your palms hard against your temples as though you could physically contain the pain.
“Migraine,” you finally managed through clenched teeth. “Woke up with it.”
Abby crouched slightly in front of you, voice softening. “That bad?”
You nodded, unable to form words past the pounding in your skull.
“Okay…okay. Just sit tight.” Abby straightened quickly. “I’ll grab you something.”
She was gone before you could protest, the door clicking softly shut behind her. You focused on breathing, slow and shallow, riding out the waves of pain until Abby returned a few minutes later with pills and a cup of water.
“Here,” Abby said gently, handing them over. “Should help.”
You swallowed the medication without hesitation, washing it down with the water before setting the cup aside. Your hands shook faintly.
“Thanks, Abs,” you murmured.
“Of course.” Abby’s jaw tightened, worry lingering in her expression. “I was actually gonna ask if you wanted to come with me. My dad took off again, but…” She trailed off, glancing at your drawn face. “You should rest. Try to sleep it off.”
“Yeah,” you said quietly. “That’s probably best.”
Abby helped you lie back, tugging the blanket up over your shoulders with a surprising gentleness. You pulled it higher, covering your face to block out the light.
“I’ll check on you later,” Abby said softly.
The door closed behind her, leaving the room quiet once more.
You lay there for a long time, caught between two lives that felt impossibly real. When the medication finally dulled the pain enough for sleep to claim you, it was restless and fractured. Dreams were bleeding into memories, reality blurring at the edges as your mind struggled to decide which world you belonged to.
—————————
You had no idea how much time had passed when you woke again.
The room was quiet, eerily so, and for a brief, disoriented moment you hoped and prayed that you would open your eyes to the familiar ceiling of your apartment. Instead, you were met with the same concrete walls, the same bolted furniture, the same unmistakable wrongness.
The pain in your head had receded to a dull, rhythmic thud, more annoyance than agony now. You pushed yourself upright slowly, testing your balance before swinging your legs over the side of the bed. The floor was cold beneath your feet.
You stood and began to move around the room, methodical and cautious. Your fingers brushed over the few belongings scattered about. Gear, clothes, personal items, and with each one came a flash of memory.
You remembered trading for the jacket folded over the chair. Remembered the argument you’d had with Owen before taking the pistol apart and cleaning it. Remembered borrowing tape from Mel because you’d run out like you always did and your stomach twisted.
“I remember this,” you whispered as your finger brushed against a journal, pausing to pick it up and flip through it. It was yours. You wrote these entries, your handwriting was the same, maybe a little messier, but it was yours.
As your mind scrambled for logic, for anything that made sense, you turned, gasping as you caught your reflection in the mirror, it was you…. But not. You were younger, maybe 15? Shaking your head you pressed your fingers into your temples, breathing through the lingering pressure behind your eyes.
“Okay… okay.” A shaky laugh escaped you. “What the actual fuck.” You said as you paced the length of the room, hands tangling in your hair.
“This has to be a dream. It has to be.” You bit down on your lower lip hard enough to sting. “I just need to wake up.”
But it felt so real. You pinched yourself, hard, making yourself wince. Fuck. Was this a dream? Or was it somehow your new reality?
The thought barely had time to settle before the crack of gunfire echoed through the building making you freeze. Another shot rang out, closer this time, followed by shouting, muffled but urgent. Your heart slammed violently against your ribs, adrenaline flooding your system in an instant.
Without thinking, you crossed the room and locked the door. Your hands moved on instinct as you grabbed your pistol, the familiar weight settling into your palm like muscle memory snapping into place. You checked the magazine, cocked it, and raised the gun toward the door, breath shallow and controlled.
This can’t be real, your mind screamed.
The gunshots continued for a few tense seconds, then they stopped just as abruptly as they’d begun. The quiet that followed was worse, every nerve in your body screaming at you to move.
You stood there, frozen, counting your breaths. Your friends were out there. You lowered the gun just long enough to shove your feet into your boots, fingers clumsy with urgency as you laced them up. The fear was still there, sharp and overwhelming, but it was being drowned out by something stronger. Your loyalty to the people on this base.
Whatever this was, maybe a dream or nightmare or impossible reality, people you cared about were in danger, and you weren’t going to stay hidden. You tightened your grip on the pistol, squared your shoulders, and moved toward the door.
Unlocking the door you opened it, quickly checking the right and the left side of the hallway before slowly moving forward. Your feet carried you through the hallways like they had walked them a thousand times, and maybe they had. All you found along the way were bodies, bodies of people you knew and recognized. Nausea twisted in your stomach as you checked them, trying to find a single survivor, but there were none.
Your stomach clenched as realization hit you, this was the day that Joel had killed all of the fireflies in his path on his way to save Ellie from being killed for a cure to the cordyceps infection. He had done all of this, and you knew what came next.
Your feet were moving before you ever decided to go, running to Abby, your best friend as you heard her desperate screams “Dad! Dad! No!” She screamed, making your heart lurch painfully in your chest.
Bursting into the room your eyes landed on Jerry, in this life he was a pseudo father figure to you in this life and now he was gone. Pulling your eyes away from the body, they turned to Abby, falling apart in Owen’s arms.
“Abby..” you said softly, moving to wrap your arms around her, pulling her into your chest and holding her close as she sobbed. “I know, I know. I’ve got you.” You whispered softly as Abby clung to you. You knew this grief, in this life and your other life. You had lost your mother, you knew how hard it was when someone so integral to your very being was ripped from your life with no warning. You pressed a kiss on top of Abby’s head, as your eyes met with Owen’s over her shoulder, a nod of grief and understanding that the two of you needed to be there for her passing between you before you went back to consoling Abby.
“I’ve got you, we’ll get through this.” You murmured, rocking Abby back and forth as she clung to you, fingers digging in so hard they’d probably bruise. You didn’t care, you would take the bruises if it meant you could help Abby shoulder even a fraction of the grief you knew was weighing down upon her.
————————
A few days later you were brushing Abby’s hair to help her put it up into its signature braid. Your stomach was twisted in knots and your anxiety was running amok as everyone talked about where they were going next. The past few days had passed in a blur of grief and trying to process everyone they had lost. The survivors were few and they were all trying to figure out where they would go next. Someone had suggested going to join the WLF and that horrified you because you knew what Abby would do, who she would become, if she went there.
In that environment Abby’s grief and anger over her father’s death would be used to forge her into a weapon. It would be twisted and manipulated until the person she became would look nothing like the girl sitting in front of you. It sickened you to think of Abby ending up like that, especially with all of the new memories and history tying you together.
“Not that I’m complaining because I like it when you play with my hair, but we are supposed to be meeting up with everyone soon to discuss our plans.” Abby said with a soft humorless chuckle making you realize that you had been aimlessly brushing Abby’s hair for the last five minutes.
Abby turned to face you, concern etched on her face along with the ever present grief that took the light out of her eyes.
“What’s going on with you? You’ve been kind of off the past few days.” Abby said, tilting her head to the side. “I know it’s been hard losing everyone like we did.” She said, pausing to take a deep breath and blink back tears. “But you’re just, off.”
You bit your lower lip and just looked at Abby for a moment, wondering what you could even say, how you could even explain what was going through your mind. How could you explain that you knew that joining the WLF would lead her down a dark road. That you knew that she would end up killing Joel to avenge her father only to lose every other person in her life she cared about. Even if you could, you couldn’t burden Abby with that when her father’s death was fresh.
“I… I don’t want to join the WLF.” You said finally, your voice small as Abby looked at you with surprise.
“What?” Abby asked, as if she hadn’t heard you the first time.
“I don’t want to join the WLF.” You said more firmly. “Some people were talking about this township in Jackson Wyoming. It’s run by a former firefly. They said it was nice and safe. I want to go there, and I want you to go with me.” You said, taking Abby’s hands and squeezing them in yours.
“But everyone else…” Abby started
“We don’t need everyone else Abs, it could be just the two of us if you wanted.” You reasoned, gripping her hands tight. “Please Abs, I think it would be better for us. You trust me, right?” You asked, Abby just nodded in response as she mulled over the idea in her head while you waited and held your breath.
“Okay.” Abby said finally, “I trust your judgement and if this is where you want to go, I’ll go with you. We just need to figure out what to tell the others.” She said, frowning. “Or if we even want to tell the others. They all seem so excited about the WLF, I don’t want to make them choose between what they want and what we’re doing.”
You nodded. “We can do whatever you think is best. You’ve lost so much recently, I don’t want to force you into losing more.” You said softly, seeing the pain flash through Abby’s eyes.
Abby was quiet for a long moment.
Then she said, “You’re not making me do anything.”
You swallowed. “It feels like I am.”
Abby shook her head once. “If you were, I wouldn’t be here listening. You know how stubborn I am.”
You nodded, staring at your hands. “I just… don’t want to lose you.” Abby’s grip tightened slightly.
“You won’t,” she said firmly.
You stayed like that for a few more moments just looking at one another as their resolve hardened. Finally, Abby shifted, turning back around.
“You gonna finish my braid?” she asked.
You let out a quiet breath. “Yeah.”
You picked up the brush again and this time, your hands were steady.
Would anyone be interested in reading a fic where reader wakes up suddenly in TLOU universe as Abby’s best friend on the day her father dies and then decides to take her to Jackson instead of joining the WLF? There’s a potential throuple situation between ElliexAbbyxReader down the road.
texting loser!ellie that you have nipple piercing in class masterlist
bored in english, you reply to a girl named E you’ve been talking to on an anonymous gay dating app—without knowing it’s that lesbian nerd girl, ellie williams.
cw: externalized homophobia, suggestive themes, flirty tension, emotional repression, gay yearning, unresolved feelings, ellie is a loser she’s basically on the floor.
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | ♡ | part 6 | part 7 part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 |
Eating vi out like she was doing to Cait in the sex scene 😍
BUT CONSIDER. having to tie her up/restrain her to get her to take it like she's supposed to MHM.
very 18+, mdni pls
"just humor me, okay? i know you can get out of these any time you want but --"
vi groans, tugging against the bright pink, padded handcuffs snapped around her wrists, clanking against the metal rungs of the headboard, her neck and cheeks flushed pink, a light sheen of sweat already shimmering over her skin.
you lick your lips, letting your eyes flicker over the sight of her -- nearly naked, with her boxers tugged halfway down her thighs, her cunt shining with slick in the dim half-light of the bedroom.
"fuck -- fine -- just --" she bite her lips, hips kicking up as you bend down to place a kiss to her hipbone, "d-don't tease --"
you hum as you trail your lips along her thighs, nipping at the skin there, grinning as her muscles flex and relax each time, her hips jerking up as you get closer and closer --
"tease?" you drag the word out over your tongue, shimmying yourself down to settle between her legs, "you mean... like you do? all the time?"
vi whines, high and loud at the back of her throat as you lean forward and puff out a hot breath against her clit. her wrists tug against the handcuffs again, making them clank loudly against the thin metal bars of your headrest, the entire bed inching forward slightly.
"i swear, if you break my bed --"
"then you'll know it's your fault -- oh fuck --!" vi hisses, head tossing back as you drop your mouth to her cunt and lick a long strip along her slit, flicking the tip of your tongue over her puffy clit, your eyes dark as you watch her writhe.
"mm, yeah?" you flash her a sharp, lopsided smirk before burying your face between her thighs, sinking your tongue into her silken folds. you moan around the taste of her, mouthing at her even as she clamps her thighs around your head, her legs shaking around you.
"fuck fuck fuck -- mm-ngh --!" she lets out an incoherent string of curses as you inch your hand up and push two fingers into her, thrusting them in and out in tandem with your tongue. you feel her fingers fist in your hair, the sting of it making your own pussy ache, and you squeeze your thighs around the dull twinge of want, redoubling your efforts as you slowly tongue-fuck vi into oblivion.
it's not till you work her up to an orgasm, her having to physically jerk you off her twitching clit, her pussy pulsing around your fingers that you frown.
"when'd you get out of those?" you ask, motioning towards the handcuffs hanging against your headboard, completely devoid of her wrists.
vi's chest is heaving, her eyes unfocused as she blinks up at you, frowning slightly, the fucked out look on her face soothing your mild irritation.
"huh? oh. dunno -- must've -- must've slipped or something --" she shrugs, tugging you up for a sloppy kiss, moaning into your mouth at the taste of her own juices on your tongue.
"violet..." you say, pouting as she pulls back.
she sighs, slumping back, "princess, when you've lived in the lanes as long as i have, gettin' outta handcuffs is like second nature. but next time, i'll -- i'll try to keep them on if it'll make you happy, yeah?"
you grin, an eyebrow twitching.
"next time?"
vi stares at you for a full three seconds before groaning, tossing an arm over her eyes.
"w-whatever. it's -- just forget it."
you giggle, tucking yourself into her side even as she shimmies her boxers back, looping an arm around your waist to cuddle you closer.
"so you liked it after all, huh?"
vi sighs, "gee. what gave it away? the insane orgasm i just experienced or...?"
you smile and give her a sweet kiss, "or... maybe i'll just get better handcuffs next time."
Vi! who has never given bottoming much thought—you see, she just doesn’t get the appeal really—until she meets you; someone she feels so completely safe and sound with, someone she’d trust with her life and now all of a sudden she’s jolting awake from feverish ‘nightmares’ where you loom over her, half cruel half kind smirk plastered across your face, as you languidly thrust into her, murmuring praises and she feels so warm and hot and overwhelmingly full and—
(+++ she’d be such a bashful bottom initially!! blushing and cursing and groaning and biting her knuckles raw to keep the whines from spilling out, hiding her face in her forearm or your shoulder etc etc)
send me vi thirsts and i'll give u my hand in marriage
tw: strap usage (vi receiving!)
woof okay like. as much as i stan top!vi (bc rawrrr), i am, at the core, a switch!vi truther. so like, absolutely she would, once she's comfortable enough w someone, bc the concept of surrender is just so foreign to her, but ppl who have been the one constantly Doing the Thing their whole lives, i feel like always crave that kind of surrender, right. so it would take a good few months, but as the trust grows, she'd let her mind wander down that alley more and more, each time pulling back cause a part of her still recoils at the thought of giving up that much control.
still, the night that it happens, her dream starting off in a familiar place -- in your arms, your lips like cinders to the parchment of her skin, but then you're pushing her back, and there's a heat coiling within her (it's been there for weeks but she's never known how to define it, never really leaned in close enough to hear it's name). and the ache between her legs is so familiar, and yet so strange at the same time bc it's not her first time, she knows the wanting for that fullness -- your fingers, your mouth, your tongue (sweet gods you're tongue) but it's nothing like this, right, the feeling of wanting to be stretched out. to feel --
her hips jerk, her mouth falls open, there's a whine twisting its way up her throat and her eyes are squeezing shut, bc why are you looking at her like that, like she's perfect but that you couldn't wait to take her apart. you snap your hips and she keens, biting down on her bottom lip so hard she thinks she tastes blood.
"fuck vi -- so good for me --"
"please -- n-ngh --! pleasepleaseplease --"
"vi?"
"a-ah --!"
"vi! are you okay? hey -- wake up!"
"h-huh?"
she jerks up, her heart a wild clatter of thunder in her chest, her skin flushed, her eyes unfocused till she sees you, hovering above her like in her dream, but unlike her dream, there's no delicate smirk on your lips, only a sincere, mounting worry creasing your forehead as you cup her cheek.
"are you okay? you were moaning in your sleep --" you say, eyes flickering over her face, taking in the dark flush in her cheeks and the uneven pace of her breaths.
vi swallows, a fresh wave of heat cresting up her stomach into her chest as she feels herself clench over nothing, the phantom fullness of the dream receding even as she scrambles to find something to say.
"sorry -- shit -- uh -- it was uh --"
"it was just a dream," you soothe, convinced that she'd had a nightmare and not --
she hisses out a long breath as you lean up to kiss her cheek, her hand coming up to catch yours, her grip strong as it always is, but something about it makes you pause.
"vi? is... everything okay?"
she takes a few deep breaths, leaning back against the pile of pillows. it's only then that she realizes what time it is -- the late afternoon sun slanting orange into the bedroom. right, she'd come into the bedroom for a power nap, and you said you were going to join her in just a few minutes.
she sighs, nodding.
"yeah. everything -- everything's great, cupcake. c'mere." she drags you into bed with her, pulling you into her chest. you settle there after a few seconds of shuffling limbs, pressing your ear to her heart.
"was it a bad dream?"
vi laughs, blinking hard as she tries to rid her vision of the afterimages of you, fucking her open on a strap, gently tugging away her hands as she'd tried to hide her noises.
"uh... no. i mean. it was just --" she swallows, "different."
you look up, your bright eyes curious as she sucks in another breath, blushing.
"but it wasn't a nightmare?"
vi licks her lips, her mouth suddenly very dry.
"uhm... no. not really exactly."
"well, you wanna tell me about it?"
vi bites her lips, swallowing down the kneejerk urge to reject the idea completely. she steadies her breathing and closes her eyes. if there's anything she knows in this life, it's that you'd never laugh at her, never do anything you thought might hurt her.
that you love her, unconditionally. in a way that she's still sometimes unused to being loved. but she's learning. so she figures it can't hurt, and she opens her mouth.
"yeah actually --" she takes a deep breath, "it was a dream about you."
consider college roommate!vi who is the star of the rugby team and just such a fucking jock about it, spends hours at the gym, has pre and post workout drinks and never closes her door when she's blasting rock music, leaves pink hair dye on the bathroom counter, stains the tub when she gets drunk and tries to redo her roots, calls you everything but your name -- sweetcheeks, dollface, cupcake, princess -- isn't shy about her hookups, doesn't even bother to apologize the mornings after another pretty cheerleader scampers out of her room, shrugs and winks when you come out of the bathroom with a tiny thong dangling off your finger that's clearly not either of yours.
college roommate!vi who does kickboxing on the weekends and teaches a kid's course at the local gym. the first time you go there to drop something of her's off as a favor, you can't help but stare at the way she laughs and chases the kids around, so gentle with her movements, so careful, guiding their punches, correcting their forms. and the kids love her -- it's so easy to see, the stars in their eyes, the color high in their cheeks, the way the girls cluster around her legs and the boys are constantly vying for her approval, how she tries her best to divide up her attention equally between all of them.
college roommate!vi who goes real quiet the first time you laugh in her presence, a real laugh, not one of those ha-ha ones you snipe at her when she's trying to get a rise out of you, or teasing you about spending all your time in the library, but one that shakes your shoulders and makes your whole face light up. who has to blink when you cock your head and ask if she's okay bc she was so busy staring at you, wondering about the weird thumping in her chest, the tightness in her throat.
college roommate!vi who's there for you when you're stressed about your dissertation, and she knew you were smart, but listening to you rant about it at 3am in the morning, she's starting to realize that... you're kind of a genius. to be so young and already doing a doctorate in mechanical engineering, and the things you're trying to do -- they could conceivably change the world one day. who freezes when you let your head drop onto her shoulder with a heavy sigh, telling her that you don't know what to do.
"you'll figure it out, cupcake. with a brain like yours? you always do."
college roommate!vi who realizes way too late that she's kinda got it bad for you, bc since when did she start getting used to the sight of you wearing one of her gym shirts in the mornings, making scrambled eggs, rolling your eyes when she yawns her way into the tiny kitchen, leaning an arm against the fridge as she looks you over before asking what's for breakfast. who's gotten so used to falling asleep to the soft clatter of your computer keys that when you leave to visit your family for a weekend, she tosses and turns and can't figure out why it's impossible for her to get to sleep, wanders into sliver of space you guys have crammed a couch and tv into to call a living room, slumping down there to stare at the ceiling, only to feel her fingers graze against something on the ground, who tugs out the thing from under the couch only to find herself staring at one of your bunched up socks with the goofy cartoon cats pattern, and she remembers (suddenly) finding you tearing your room apart the week before trying to look for it because it's your favorite pair of socks.
she finds herself chuckling, letting the sock fall again, but the tightness in her throat doesn't recede, and invisible fingers clench in her gut as she lets her eyes fall shut.
"well... fuck."
college roommate!vi who doesn't know how to act when you get back from your weekend away, when you throw yourself into her arms, your skin still smelling of the crisp fall air and something warm, and spicy -- it reminds her of the holiday market you dragged her to last year, the cinnamon and spiced apples, the hot, mulled wine, the way it burned all the way down when she took the first sip, the way it worked the most darling flush into your cheeks above your pink knit scarf.
"i've got a present for you!" you say, when you finally extricate yourself from her gasp, your arms still around her shoulders, her hands still settled around your waist.
"y-yeah? you didn't have to do that, sweetcheeks --"
"yeah, but i saw this in a store window and -- well i just... it reminded me of you," you say, pulling back to dig something out of your travel bag, and it takes everything in vi not to tug you back into her chest. so instead, she settles for knitting her arms across her front and coughing to hide the fact that her throat's just tightened over itself at your words. you? seeing something and thinking of her? gods, she was so far gone.
"here," you say, pulling a small black box out and offering it to her on the palm of your hand.
vi stares, before reaching out to take it, her eyes flickering up towards your face, only to catch you chewing on your bottom lip in a way that makes her mind frizzle out at the edges. she refocuses her attention on the box -- opening it, she finds a tiny little gemstone, set on a thin golden chain --
"oh..." she breathes, tugging out up to let the gem dangle from between her fingers.
"it -- it's an alexandrite stone," you say, your voice a bit reedy, but you push on as vi continues to stare, "it's uhm -- one of the rarest gemstones in nature, but the cool thing is it changes colors depending on what kind of light it's under --" you reach up to grasp her wrist, her lungs seizing at the contact as you tug her into the incandescent light of the kitchen. "see? it was light blue a second ago, right? and now it's --"
"violet," vi says, her voice soft and disbelieving.
you quickly let go of her wrist, pursing your lips and wrapping your arms around yourself, looking anywhere but at her face.
"yeah -- i just --" your shoulders shrug up as she stares at you, her sky-light eyes wide, "it... it reminded me of... you."
college roommate!vi who, ever since the "necklace incident" (as the rest of the rugby team likes to call it), hasn't really been the same. she's put on the necklace and not taken it off for even a second since the day you gave it to her, but now she doesn't really know how to act around you -- bc did you actually like her? i mean, the necklace is... a pretty big thing to just give someone, but what if you were just giving it to her as a friend? as a roommate? she agonizes over it to the point that the rest of the team are so, so sick of hearing about it, they lovingly tell her to just fuck her and get it over with already. but vi insists that she can't -- it's different with you.
college roommate!vi who's stunned speechless when she gets home to find you staring at your computer, your expression blank. and at first, she thinks something's horribly wrong, but then you're slamming into her, squealing about how you've done it -- your thesis defense went well, that you're a doctor now -- and she's picking you up, spinning you around, buoyed up by the effervescence of your happiness, pressing a kiss to your cheek --
"oh my god, congrats princess! i knew it! i always knew you could do it!"
"thanks -- god, i just -- i've wanted it for so long i... i don't know what to do with myself now that i've got it, y'know?" you say, still suspended in vi's arms, your feet lifted off the ground. it takes a moment before you both seem to realize the position you're in, and vi clears her throat as she lets you down, you looking away, pressing your palms to your cheeks to cool the heat gathering there.
after a brief pause though, vi chuckles, reaching out to slip a finger beneath your chin, tilting your face up towards her's.
"c'mon, put on one of those pretty dresses of yours. we're going out."
"out?"
"yeah. to celebrate."
you blink as vi pulls her hand away.
"but it's like... 4:30 on a tuesday."
vi cocks an eyebrow, a smirk twitching at her lips, "yes, and? c'mon cupcake --" her eyes catch yours and instead of looking away, she holds it this time, something flickering behind their powder-blue depths that makes your skin prickle with heat, "i'll show you a good time."
college roommate!vi who takes you to one of her favorite clubs, tugging you through the crowd, the jostling bodies, holding your hand in her's, trying really hard not to think too much about it (or the fucking insane little black and pink miniskirt you put on), telling herself that it's just to make sure she doesn't lose you in the crowd, grinning when someone knocks you into her chest, and she finds her arm wrapped around your waist, fingers scrunching the material of your skirt, your palms splayed on her chest.
she buys the both of you a round of shots, watching with a hitched breath as your tongue flickers out to lick the salt daubed on your wrist, the way your eyes squeeze shut when you take the shot and your lips wrap around the lime slice, tries to ignore the twist in her gut like a turning blade, the way her whole body flushes with heat, the dull ache caught between her legs when you wipe your lips, your eyes bright and a little blown out, your cheeks flushed with color as you giggle and lace your hands with hers again --
"come on! i wanna dance!"
college roommate!vi who is just drunk enough to let herself dance with you, to let herself lean in to the way you're twisting your body, fingers in your hair, your eyes closed, an indulgent smile on your lips, who let's herself imagine (just for a second), pulling you in to kiss you, how soft your lips might feel on hers, how silken your skin might be beneath her hands, who tries not to groan when you lean in closer, link your arms behind her neck, press your whole body against her's, who grips your hips just a little too tight, grinds you against her, sees the way you gasp, your eyelids fluttering as you eyes glaze out --
college roommate!vi who can't help how she groans at the sight, tugs you in by the back of your neck to mash her lips to yours, crushing you to her as she kisses you (finally, finally) and you let yourself he kissed -- your fingers tangle in her choppy pink hair, and she swears you make this sweet, mind-bending whimpering noise in the back of your throat that drives her up the wall and right over it --
but when she pulls back, she sees the look on your face -- shocked and little confused, but you're drunk, and she doesn't wanna do this with you -- at least, not like this.
college roommate!vi who pulls away, only to have you follow her all the way out the club, into this small dark alley, her shaking her head, feeling a strange, saltwater prickle at the back of her throat as she says --
"shit -- sorry. i didn't mean to -- i just -- you were just so -- and i -- fuck, i didn't --"
"vi -- vi -- no, violet, listen to me --"
it's her full name on your lips that makes her pause, makes her turn to find you walking towards her. your lipstick is smeared, your hair a waterfall mess around your shoulders as you corner her against the rough brick of the club's exterior. faintly, she can still feel the pulse of music reverberating from inside the club, but out here, the air is damp and cold and quiet.
"i -- i'm sorry i kissed you," she says, her voice cracking over the syllables. she bites her lips as you frown up at her, your eyes searching her's before you let out a soft sigh and a scoff.
"well. i'm sorry you feel that way. cause..." you take half a step back, your arms curling around yourself before you glance back at her with a hard, determined light to your eyes as you press back into her space, your cheeks bright with color.
"i was really kinda hoping you'd do it again."
vi's breath punches out of her chest; it takes a few seconds of sputtering before she gathers herself enough to speak.
"wait -- what? you..."
you crinkle your nose, rolling your eyes, "i -- i thought i was making it obvious -- i mean, with the whole necklace thing -- it doesn't take a genius to figure how i feel about --"
you squeak as she pins you against the opposite wall, her lips seeking yours out, her fingers rucking up the material of your top, making you hiccup as they tease under the wire-rim of your bra.
college roommate!vi who can barely control herself when you sink your fingers into her hair, tugging lightly as you gasp out a breath, her lips tracking fire along the side of your neck, intent on making you whimper again, just the way she likes, grazing her teeth along your collarbone even as you jerk at her hair --
"vi -- fuck -- vi, not here --" you swallow around the burgeoning desire, and when you glance down to find her looking up at you, her eyes so dark they're almost black, you fight back a groan, cup your palms around her cheeks and pull her up for a long kiss.
"let's --" you suck in a breath even as vi whines at the loss your lips, "let's go home --"
"holy fuck," vi swears, somehow managing to pull herself back just far enough to taste the misty night air. she stares at you, your chest heaving, a daisy-chain of hickeys blossoming along the long expanse of your neck, your makeup good and smeared, your hair a mess, your eyes bright and so full of love as they flicker over her face.
vi smiles, helpless to the loud, uncertain drumming of her heart as she says, "y-yeah -- let's get you home, princess."
college roommate!vi who barely waits for the elevator door to close in your building before she's got you shoved up against the wall, hoisting you up, her fingers seeking out the softness of your skin, tugging up your shirt, her other hand dipping into the waistband of your skirt, her mouth open and hungry as she kisses your neck, bites down at the junction of your shoulder just to hear you moan.
college roommate!vi who's way too good at undoing your bra with one hand the second you get back to your apartment (if you were more coherent, you might've thought it hot), the door slamming closed, the pair of you toppling onto the room, breathy laughs and panting whines as she hoists you into her arms and carries you to your bedroom, laying you down so gently, kissing up your stomach till you're whimpering, your own hands pulling your top off your body, leaving you in an undone-bra and a miniskirt, your cheeks flushed. you push yourself up onto your elbows, watching as vi peaks up at you from between your legs, shooting you a wink before she's tugging down your skirt and panties all in one, an eyebrow ticking up at the lil lacey thing you had on beneath the skirt all along.
"all this for me, pretty?"
you press your lips, eyes cutting away as she looks between the bra dangling off your shoulders and the panties caught round your ankles. her lashes flutter.
"oh, a matching set," she cocks her head, running her palms up your thighs, pinning them open again as you try to press them closed, feeling suddenly much too seen (bc you'd be straight up lying if you hadn't put it on in the vague hope that the night might evolve into something like this).
she clicks her tongue, shaking her head with a cocky, shit-eating grin that makes your heart skitter in your chest. her drops a light kiss to your inner thigh, savoring in the way you whine again.
"nope, keep 'em open princess."
college roommate!vi who takes her time with you, bc rly she's been waiting way too long for this, has imagined it one too many times, but nothing can compare to the way your hips jerk up against her mouth, the way your fingers tighten in her hair every time she licks up the seam of your cunt, the way your breath catches on her name over and over again, like you can't quite get the word out even though it's just a single syllable. she groans against you, too lost in the taste of you to care about what a mess she must look like, with her tongue fucking into your desperate hole, her nose nudging your clit, her fingers digging crescent moon marks into your hipbones.
she's sure that if this were an old-fashioned cartoon, there'd be big, balloon hearts popping out of her eyes. she can't get enough of you like this -- moaning her name, your legs on either side of her face, your skin littered with the remnants of her. she has the eye-rolling thought of you the next morning, of how all these marks will still be there to remind you of her every single time you see one of them.
college roommate!vi who doesn't expect you to flip over after she's literally eaten you out seven ways to sunday, to tug her in for a soft kiss (though she really does like pressing your own taste back into your mouth with her tongue), before your fingers are inching down the length of her body to tease at her hips, trailing circles down the lines of her abs, toying with the thin line of hair that leads into her black boxer briefs.
"what are you --"
you shoot her a look that has her mouth going dry.
"what? didn't think i can give as good as i get?"
college roommate!vi who's literally going to lose her mind with the way you're fingers (at first sight so thin and delicate, but gods are they stronger than they look) are pressing into her, curling up with the kind of precision usually only associated with doctors, and then a voice in the back of her head reminds her -- oh, right, you are a doctor now. but logical thought dies after that, bc you've somehow worked your way between her legs and are looking up at her with those big dark eyes of yours, smiling sunshine bright before you drop a kitten-lick against her clit and she's twitching, keening as she cums all over your fingers.
"jesus fuckin' christ, doll -- is that what you're learning in those engineering classes?"
she's breathless, cheeks flushed, and honestly just a little embarrassed at how quickly she came, but she has to bite back another groan as she watches you lick your fingers clean, grinning sweetly up at her as if you didn't just get her off in record time.
"no, but i did do my dissertation on human-based robotics, which included a lot of late nights memorizing anatomical models so..."
vi pulls you in for a kiss, laughing against your lips.
"you're amazing, y'know that?"
college roommate!vi who can't really believe how much she's lucked out, sharing an apartment with her girlfriend, who literally cannot shut up about you, but the rugby team all agree that they'd rather have this than the months of endless pining. who brags about her genius gf to anyone who'll listen, and looks for you in the stands of all her practice matches when you can make it, who kisses you in front of everyone even when you make a show of trying to wiggle away bc she's sweaty (you don't really care).
who loves telling the story of how you guys met bc she still can't quite believe it herself, and the story always starts with --
the first time college roommate!vi sees you in one of her shirts, she loses her mind just a little bit, bc it's a sunday morning, and she walks into the living room to find you there, one of her big graphic shirts hanging off your shoulders, a book perched against an empty bottle of peach svedka from god knows when, munching through a bowl of overnight oats.
"is... that mine?"
you jump to your feet, blushing something fierce as you tug at the hem of the shirt, pursing your lips; vi's stomach flips; there's a flake of oatmeal at the corner of your lip that she wants so badly to reach out and wipe for you --
"sorry! it's just -- i forgot to do laundry yesterday, and i think one of your shirts got mixed up with my clothes in the last batch so i just --" you fidget with your own fingers, cheeks blazing as you stare down at her shirt hanging off your frame.
"no, no!" vi says, clearing her throat as she tries to focus on anything other than the way your thighs peak out from beneath the hem of the shirt. how she can catch a glimpse of your collarbone when the wide necklines shifts this way and that. "it's fine! you -- it looks good on you, cupcake."
you chew on your lips, tugging at the hem. "t-thanks but -- i'll wash it again before giving it back --"
"you don't have to --" vi says, a bit too quickly, and you look up, your eyes wide. she swears inwardly, clenching her fists. "i mean -- i've got a million shirts like it so you -- you keep that one."
she makes a brave attempt at her usual, easy smirk, shrugging up a shoulder as she looks you over one more time.
"it looks good on you."
and she thinks she's got it -- thinks she's finally gotten back to ground zero, maybe even gotten a bit of the upper hand here. it used to be so easy to make you blush, back when you both first moved in, just a few carefully aimed words here or there, a teasing smirk, and you'd be turning pink enough to match her hair. but it's been harder lately, and vi doesn't really know why (or rather, she doesn't want to think about it too hard, lest she really drive herself crazy with the thought of you), but she's glad that she's still got it in her.
even if it does take everything inside her not to be blushing herself.
"thanks..." you swallow, rubbing your fingers into the soft, worn in material, "i like it cause... it kinda smells like you."
vi thanks every single deity she can think of the name for that she's leaning against the doorframe of her bedroom because if she hadn't, she's sure you would've just taken her out.
and later, after she's made up some ass excuse and said that she's gotta go to the gym for a mid-morning workout (she doesn't actually, but the thought of spending more time with you in that apartment with you prancing around in one of her shirts had her nearly catatonic), she buries her face in her hands, sitting in the gym lockers, her heart thumping a mile a minute, your voice caught like a record on loop in her head as she feels her entire body flush a deep, prickling crimson --
i like it cause... it kinda smells like you.
sweet lord she is so, so fucked.
Sometimes I write things. @mopperbabixz - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
