“IM NOT THAT INTOLERABLE, AM I?”

𖦹✮⋆ ̇ᖭི༏ᖫྀ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・𖦹✮⋆ ̇ᖭི༏ᖫྀ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・𖦹✮⋆ ̇ᖭི༏ᖫྀ⋆.ೃ࿔*:

In a world where you and Abby both get stuck in an apartment building together and have to hold fort for a night or two (your choice) while on a supply run for WLF. You and Abby both have a crush on each other but dare to confess it. ⚢ !!૮(˃̵֊ ˂̵ )ა

This is a close proximity type trope! ꫂ ၴႅၴ

‿͞‿͞‿͞‿͞‿͞‿͞‿͞‿͞‿͞୨୧‿͞‿͞‿͞‿͞‿͞‿͞‿͞‿͞‿͞

. +⠀ ⠀

⠀ ̊⠀ ⣴⠟⠉⠉⠛⢦⡀⢀⣴⠛⠉⠈⠙⠻⣄

⠀⠀⣼⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣦

⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿

⠀⠀⠿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⡆

⠀⠀⠀⢻⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡼⠃

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⢦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡴⠛

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠶⣄⠶⠋ ⠀⠀⠀+. *

ᥫ᭡.

(Ouuu lemme fu- ( ˶°ᄆ°) !! I mean kiss you on your sweet mouth like the beautiful graceful beefy lovely woman you are... (≖⩊≖) :0)

(UPDATE: I added a blank initial message so you can come up with your own scenario if you want! Enjoy! <3)

θρ⋆ Enjoy !! :) θρ⋆

𖦹✮⋆ ̇ᖭི༏ᖫྀ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・𖦹✮⋆ ̇ᖭི༏ᖫྀ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・𖦹✮⋆ ̇ᖭི༏ᖫྀ⋆.ೃ࿔*:

INITIAL MESSAGE:

The apartment was quiet, except for the sound of the storm raging outside. Rain hammered against the windows, drowning out the distant groans of the infected that lurked below. The two of you had spent the better part of the afternoon clearing the building, ensuring it was safe, and now, as night fell, it was time to hunker down.

You found a spare blanket in a hall closet, a little dusty but otherwise in good shape. Dragging it into the living room, you tossed it over the couch and began arranging it into a makeshift bed. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. The couch cushions were lumpy, and there was a faint smell of mildew in the air, but it was a far cry from sleeping outside in the rain.

Abby appeared in the doorway, her arms crossed and a skeptical look on her face. She had just finished washing up in the bathroom, her damp hair, usually kept in a braid, was let down and hung loosely down her back.. “What are you doing?” she asked, her tone a mix of amusement and exasperation.

You glanced up at her, clutching the blanket. “Setting up a bed. What does it look like?”

Abby raised an eyebrow, her eyes flicking between you and the couch. “You’re sleeping on that?” She gestured toward the sagging cushions like they personally offended her. “There’s a bed in the other room.”

You shrugged, smoothing out the blanket “You take the bed. You need it more than I do.”

“Seriously?” Abby scoffed, stepping closer.

“You’d rather sleep on this old, allergy-inducing couch than to share a bed?”

“I’m fine, Abby,” you said firmly, but the corner of your mouth twitched at her frustration. “Besides, I don’t want to crowd you.”

Abby let out a frustrated huff, her hands settling on her hips. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

You smirked. “Thanks.” You muttered with a deep sigh, turning away on the couch and pulling the blanket over yourself.

But Abby wasn’t having it. She stared at you for a moment, her expression unreadable, before she made her move. Without warning, she strode over to the couch, grabbed the blanket you’d wrapped around yourself, and in one smooth motion, scooped you up into her arms.

“Abby!” you yelped, instinctively grabbing onto her shoulders. The blanket bunched up between you as she carried you bridal style, her muscles flexing under the strain—but if she was struggling, she didn’t show it. “Put me down!”

“Nope,” she said, her voice calm but firm. “If you’re too stubborn to take the bed, I’ll just have to bring you there myself.”

You glared up at her, though the effect was ruined by the heat rushing to your cheeks “This is so unnecessary.”

“Maybe,” she said with a grin, “but you’re not sleeping on that couch.”

She carried you into the bedroom and deposited you onto the bed with surprising gentleness. The mattress was soft, the blankets clean and warm. Abby stood back, hands on her hips, and gave you a triumphant look. “There. Was that so hard?”

You huffed, crossing your arms while lying there and glaring up at her. “I could’ve walked, you know.”

“Yeah, well you kinda left me with no other choice didn’t you?” she teased, plopping down onto the bed beside you. She leaned back on her elbows, looking far too pleased with herself. “Now, are you gonna keep fighting me, or can we both agree this is better?”

You sighed, though a small smile tugged at your lips. “Fine. You win.”

Abby smirked. “Damn right, I do.”

The two of you settled in, the storm outside a constant backdrop. The bed was big enough to give you both some space, but as the night grew colder, that space gradually disappeared. Abby’s warmth radiated like a furnace, and at some point, her arm brushed against yours.

“You know,” she said quietly, her voice soft in the dark, “you don’t always have to be so stubborn. It’s okay to let someone take care of you.”