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atyourmerci · 1 month

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☀︎To the light is to the darkness✩

Abby X reader X Ellie

Prologue to vengeance (can be read alone)

☀︎ ☀︎

Summary: Abby is your childhood best friend, you did everything together, taught each other everything. You were utterly infatuated with each other until Ellie Williams enters your world.

Warning: smut, MDNI, porn w lots of plot, innocence arc, mutual pining, lots of sexual tension, mutual masturbation (in the same room, together), fingering if you squint, useless lesbians, lesbian love triangle, abby needs a hug, phoebe bridgers as her own warning, no use of y/n, no physical description of reader

A/N: okay so holy fuck did I get carried away with this one. I didn’t want to leave yall on a cliffhanger but this dynamic deserves more and I don’t want to rush through it. I hope yall enjoy. This chapter is mostly just abby but there will be lots more Ellie in the next chapter promise :)

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“Someone you couldn’t lose. You said we’re not together, so now when we kiss I have anger issues.”

She asked when it had all started. The truth was you weren’t really sure. There was no definitive date or period of time that signified the beginning or end of it.

A relationship that felt more of interlacing two souls into one that resided in two structures. Shared autonomy of mind, breath, word, and body. Unspoken feelings, touches, and stares.

What started in green fields of pink flowers and brown roots ended in dark rooms and pining embraces. Hand shakes turning into interlaced fingers, laughter filled glances turning into tense stares, and experimental pecks turning into open mouthed pants.

The first time you meet abby was at school at 15. Bright eyed and bushy tailed still untainted from the reality of the world around you. You were quite shy in those years, keeping yourself away from the wild hairs of children ready to grow up and take charge. You were okay with the stability of childhood, the sticky sweet feeling of safety and uncharted terror.

Before Abby’s dad had died, before the muscles and long locks of golden blonde hair she was reserved too. Abby was wrapped in a bubble of comfort, a loving community that doted on her. She felt no need to join the crowd of chaos when she had everything she needed.

Well she thought she did…and then she met you.

In class you had your face shoved into a notebook doodling away of ferns and dandelions you had seen in the fields early that day. If it were up to you, you’d spend every last dying breath in the fields, soaking in sunlight and trailing your fingers through the rows of flowers.

Abby sat next to you in class, always too shy to speak up to you. You always seemed so busy, either reading, drawing, or with your head in the clouds, never truly listening to the lecture ahead. She admired your creativity, attention to detail, and the utter sense of unawareness to your surroundings. She wondered why you didn’t talk to the others, you were so inviting, so pretty. She once wished to look like you, how effortlessly magnificent you looked.

She grew too curious, over zealous at the thought of being close to you, understanding you. She knew she had to speak up.

“H-hey you draw pretty cool- I mean- it’s really good…what you draw.”

You had never taken more than a glance at the freckled girl until then. She always seemed just as busy as you, so you never bothered her.

You let out a bellied laugh at the now crimson red faced girl- completely embarrassed by her attempt at recognition.

And that was that. The two of you were inseparable, attached at the hip from then on out.

Abby seemed to understand your weird quirks and odd fascinations. Even when she didn’t, she was there open minded and wide eyed to hear your lengthy ramblings on about nothingness.

Sometimes it felt like you did most of the talking. Not that it was one sided or you wouldn’t let her butt in, but rather she was completely enamored by what you thought. Sometimes all she wanted to do was to hear you talk, you were her favorite person, the own mold of herself.

She wanted to think what you thought, feel what you felt, see the world through your eyes.

As the years went on you only seemed to grow closer to abby as she grew fonder of you.

Some could call it an obsession, the way you treated each other. Not a single thought went by that the other didn’t know. If you were there, so was abby. If you knew something, so did she.

Everyday she would follow you to the fields after school, your special escape you’d learn to share with the other half of your being.

You’d make her lay across the flower ridden fields so you could draw her glistening hair kissed by the whisk of wind. She let her hair grow longer since you’d ask to braid it for her every morning. She liked it short but she wanted to let you have room to make intricate designs and lace them with weeds you’d found.

Abby would playfully nudge you when you’d draw the hump on her nose in the drawings, but you loved it too much to not appreciate it. You loved all the things she couldn’t in herself.

You two spent hours out in the field daily, even when it rained you’d make her dance around like fairies as mud splattered across your shins. Anything you wanted, she’d do as long as it was with you.

That’s when you asked her to try kissing, she’d obliged.

“Have you ever…kissed anyone?” You ask staring off into the cloud painted sky, tall grass framing your bodies.

She lets out a breathy giggle, “no… you would know if I did.”

You shrug, shoulder crashing gently into hers, “I don’t know, maybe it was too embarrassing to say.”

She trails off, “h-have you?”

“No dumbass you would know…” you push your shoulder into her turning to give her a toothy smile, “what if I’m not good when a boy kisses me?”

Her eyes remained trained onto the pillowy cloud, “you can try on me- I-if you want to.”

It was a good idea, she wasn’t going to judge you, she was your best friend, she was only there to help.

“Okay.” And without a second thought your upper body shot up and lent over hers, pressing your lips into her plush pink ones. It was gentle, only a placement amongst the flesh, yet so charged. Butterflies fluttered through your stomach and up to your throat, something you had only felt once before when you and abby went swimming.

Closeness you thought. Being close to someone causes that. How nice it was to be so close to your favorite person, maybe one day you could feel close to someone again.

After that you continued to experiment kissing. At sleepovers you’d talk about the boys you wanted to kiss, then show each other how you would kiss them. It turned into an innocent routine, pecking her before she would leave, kissing her in the fields when you felt the butterflies.

You’d told her about them- the fluttering in your stomach. Whenever you felt them she told you that she wanted to feel them too. Transferring them through the soft pink flesh, she’d say she’d feel them after.

Soon she’d tell you when she got them, to which you’d return the gesture back. As time went on, the butterflies came more often.

People were starting to notice the relationship, started talking about how close the two of you were. You’d shoo off the irrational comments and over zealous accusations, but abby never did. She just didn’t respond.

“Who am I to ask for more? But you’re breathing in my open mouth. You’re the gun in my lips that will blow my brains out.”

Abby started spending the night daily, she practically lived in your room at that point. After her dad died your relationship grew stronger than ever. In such a treacherous time she clung to the only person who truly understood her. Many a nights she spent huddled into a ball in your lap weeping as you smoothed the hair behind her ear and rubbing circles into the grown muscles in her back.

Abby had taken to working her emotions out in physical labor. Now being a solider full time out of school she had grown muscular and more rough. Her heart was still the same for you, but had grown caged off to the people around you.

Her pleasantries for the rest of the community had grown stale, only allowing a few to get near her. But you… there was always an indefinite spot inside her for you.

Since abby was always around now, in the darkness of every night, privacy had flown right out the window. Not that you had minded- there wasn’t much of really anything abby didn’t know or hadn’t seen.

But when that eery sense of familiarity crept up, when the butterflies would come at night.

She had started out sleeping on the extra bed in your room. Before she had practically moved in she’d sleep with you, but since her stay turned to no vacancy she’d taken to given you the last sense of space, even when you hadn’t asked.

In the middle of darkness as the crickets chirped outside the window you’d tell her the feeling had come back, and she’d always agree, and the room would fall silent again.

“Abby?” You call out to a darkened room, illuminated by the shine of the moon.

“Yeah?” She’d call back from the other side.

“Do you ever…fix the feelings of the butterflies. Like make them go away?”

“Uh yeah- sometimes…when it gets bad.”

“I think mine are…bad right now,” it felt embarrassing almost, there was nothing she could do to help, fix your issue. Transferring the butterflies to abby only made them worse sometimes, and you were boiling.

“M-mine too,” she admits.

“You can fix it- if you need to.”

“A-re you going to stop yours?”

“Is that okay?” You say reluctantly into the tense air coating you. Every slight move felt with a million nerves.

“Mhmm,” she responds, a rustling heard coming from her direction.

Soft hums filled the air from the feeling of release you had allowed yourself in the presence of your best friend. Abby’s breathy moans would only follow quickly after your own, never before.

Dual release become a routine. Allowing the sticky sweet sensations of climaxing in the same bedroom of your other half. It became another thing you shared with her, another check on the list of the endeavors you’d participated in with her.

Talks of the butterflies and the unleashing of them never left those four chipping walls. Some things were meant for just Abby’s ears. All best friends must do the same. You’d never heard of others talk of sorts so you sealed your lips, a secret kept like a bird in a cage.

As you both had grown accustomed to the routine things gradually got more intense. Sometimes you couldn’t get the butterflies to fly away even when you tried for hours, panting out whimpers of frustration. Even when they would go away sometimes they would crept back in immediately, your body unable to be satiated.

Abby begun sleeping in the bed with you, to calm the frustrating unnerve you felt after no avail. She’d tell you she wish she could help you, make them go away. She’d do anything to make you happy.

That’s when you started touching yourselves next to each other. The routine was upheld for so long that it felt natural to do it even when she was right next to you. First fully covered, then in undergarments, to finally completely bare.

Seeing Abby’s bare flesh only made it worse. You weren’t stupid, the pieces were falling into place before your eyes. But you hadn’t seen anyone else naked before, maybe it would be the same. Her flesh so pale, her nipples shades of pale pink roses, and the hair that trailed down to her folds as golden as wheat. You had never seen something so magnificent, so beautifully crafted.

That was something you didn’t share with her. The drawings of her bare flesh. You made sure to memorize each chisel, line, and freckle to be as accurate as possible once you got to your notebook. With every piece of her revealed opening thousands of opportunities to draw her art. She was so fucking beautiful.

“When was the first time?” The auburn girl had asked you.

It all had meshed into a blur, what had happened and when it did. When you and abby had started sleeping together it started on opposite ends. Heat not close enough to sting your flesh but the air still tense enough to be cut clean with a blade. As time grew on and the routine becoming daily, the space between you started to close in. Knees brushing as your legs wavered, arms transferring sticky sweat in the blistering heat of arousal.

The inevitable placement of foreheads touching as you watched each other fall apart, watching the butterflies flutter out of her throat with every pant.

From what you could call the ‘beginning’ of sorts, rather an act of mercy, came from her.

You found yourself in the familiar position of unnerve. Rubbing aimless quick circles on your abused clit. It became a matter of principle at the point, needing to fulfill the urge even knowing the outcome would leave you more helpless than before. Abby’s butterflies were far gone, now rubbing lazy stripes down her slit in attempt to not let you feel alone. She never wanted you to feel like she wasn’t completely enthralled by your every move.

Your leg sprawled across her own, wide open, bucking your hips into the air as you let out frustrated grunts, eyes sealed shut in concentration. She just watched. She loved watching you touch yourself. Abby felt like the luckiest girl in the world getting to watch you, kiss you, feel you. She wanted to feel more of you, every atom in your body she’d kiss if you’d allow it.

“Let me help” she said, eyes trained on your open mouth.

Your brain was too fuzzy to even comprehend the depth of the act, so pent up and eager.

“Mhmm,” was all you could muster up. As her calloused fingers transferred from her skin to your abdomen, your body jolted up. You had never been touched by another. Not like this. She took her time running the tips of her fingers from your side to the mound, taking your hand and moving it your thigh so she could replace it with her own.

Something deep in your belly erupted when you felt her fingers meet your clit. A flock of doves released from their cage, a gasping goldfish meeting water. An exaggerated sigh of relief came out as a depraved moan. Every nerve in your body heightened by her gentle touch.

She drew cautious and attentive swipes across the newly swollen bud, watching for when your breath would hitch.

“You’re so warm,” she said studying your face as it contorted in pleasure. Your chin raised high, burying your scalp into the frilly pillows below. She had then studied the flesh around your neck, oh why had she never noticed that. How thin the skin was there, how close she could get to you in that space.

“I-it feels b-better when you do it,” you admit to her, water in her hands, hips grinding into the soft touch of her. “Y-yeah really?” She says, perking up, so pleased with knowing she could make you feel better. She’d do anything to make you feel better.

You let your stagnant hand run down her chiseled chest to meet her mound, her sticky slit pooling at her core. You meant to return the favor, an eye for an eye. “It’s okay- just let me help you.”

You shook your head in agreement, but let your hand rest on the pulsing flesh, you wanted to feel her like she felt you.

With every gentle circle she took you closer to release. It was so much faster when she did it. When you did it together before you would lie there for hours flicking at the raw skin to no avail, but in minutes she had you tipping at your edge.

Her strokes felt akin to the ones on your notebook, gentle and cautious direction, seeking a desirable outcome. You’d thought to picture this, able to recreate this on paper shielded from her eyes. What would she think if she saw them? Maybe you’d grown too fond of the other half of your heart.

“Abby!” You scream out, nearing your pending release.

“Y-yeah? D-does it feel okay- are you okay?” She perks up in concern, helplessly worried she had hurt you.

“Yes- Yes! It- it’s coming,” you pant out, body slick with sweat as your arousal pools below you. A sloppy mess of bodies interlaced with remorseless pleasure.

“Let me feel them, I want to feel them,” abby says inches from your face, intently watching the contortions of your face below her. The butterflies, oh how she wished she could flutter in your tummy as they do so effortlessly.

You cave shamelessly, pressing into the soft pink flesh. You try to keep them stable, but as you reach the cliffs edge you can’t help but moan pathetically into her throat. Your hips thrust into the calloused fingers, chasing the lasting feelings of her, escaping your doom and passing the burden through your lips onto hers.

You did draw of this, and every time after that. It became an obsession, mental images snapshotted to accuracy for replication later.

The routine increased in frequency and intensity. Exploring each other’s most sacred places. She would let you touch her sometimes, but only when she was touching you. Abby seemed more interested in your pleasure than her own. But she cared about you, she never wanted you unsettled. She wanted to be your salvation.

“I ask you how you’re doing and I let you lie. But we don’t have to talk about it, I can walk you home and practice method acting. I’ll pretend being with you doesn’t feel like drowning.”

“Does she make you feel them?”

She asked when it had all started. The truth was you weren’t really sure. There was no definitive date or period of time that signified the beginning or end of it.

Ellie Williams was so…vulgar, erratic, a ticking time bomb. The pieces of the puzzle connected at last when you lied eyes on the auburn haired girl.

She had entered the WLF as gentle as a bomb to a building. Fiery hot attitude, a chip on her shoulder, and drowning green eyes. At first glance she utterly captivated your ever fleeting thoughts.

When she first walked through the corridors of the stadium your eyes fixed on her, staring rudely at her every move. “Who is that, the girl?” You ask the unfazed blonde next to you, too busy working at sharpening a blade, “names Ellie, they say she’s trouble. By the looks of her, checks out.”

“What did she do? Why is she here?” You continue your glare, taking note of the pink scare rippled along the crest of her eye.

You had never drawn anyone other than abby, but the girls features were so strong, the strokes would come naturally in your grasp. A secret muse possibly, even from a far.

“I don’t know- stay away from her. She reeks of trouble,” she’d remark, finishing off the blade and leading you off to a pending mission.

You tried, you really did. She was so compelling, and you? You were a bee to honey. Was she soft unlike her features? Did she speak of the world beyond her? Did she like to watch the clouds mesh into unlikely objects? Did she know of the butterflies and their ever present existence in your lungs?

Your notebook grew of only her, the short frayed hair, the pink scare, the freckles that littered her face. So effortlessly magnificent she was, unknowingly your own secret work of art.

Until abby found them.

Related to this work

Song lyrics: casual , waiting room , cool about it

Moodboard

If you enjoy the childhood best friend trope with abby highly recommend this fic by @kieranscaren she writes beautifully and gave me great inspiration for this work:)

Taglist: @wishbones999 @bookpagecandlescent @littlegingerperson5 @lookforthelight1 @fict1onallyobsessed @shewantstoknow @a-little-bit-of-everybody

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leossmoonn · 6 months

Text

neighborly welcome | mike schmidt

summary - burnt cookies aren’t the only thing mike gives you

warnings / includes - reader is fem, natural time skips. lowk stalker/pervert mike, f oral, brief handjob, intercourse, after he worked at freddy’s, porn w/ plot

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18+ below the cut

“you should get her a housewarming gift,” vanessa suggests.

mike’s body whips around from his perch at the window. “give who a housewarming gift?”

vanessa rolls her eyes and gets up off the couch. “the girl you’ve been stalking and are obviously in love with.”

he scoffs, the tips of his ears burning. “i’m not stalking, and i am definitely not in love with her.”

“fine. a crush then. still, you should get her something. welcome her to the neighborhood.”

“that’s not normal.”

“what? of course it is.”

“it’s not normal for me,” mike explains. he glances back out the window, spotting you in the same spot you were since he turned away. you’re gardening, your white tank top clinging to your body thanks to sweat. you’re wearing a visor to protect your face from the sun as well as sunglasses to shield your eyes. you bend down to pick up a pot, unknowingly giving mike a nice view down your shirt.

vanessa scoffs in disbelief. “you’re practically drooling.”

“what, i’m not,” mike denies. he brings his hand to his lips, wiping the corners and feeling a small amount of saliva that’s collected. he blushes and looks down at the floor, knowing he’s stared at you enough today.

“you should introduce yourself before she calls the cops” vanessa quips. “you don’t want a restraining order from someone you don’t know.”

“what do you suggest i get her then?” he asks. “bake some cookies or something. i don’t know,” she shrugs.

“so helpful,” mike deadpans. vanessa chuckles and stands up from the couch. “my grandma has this killer chocolate chip cookie recipe. i’ll send it to you,”

“is this grandma from your mom or dad’s side?” he asks. she rolls her eyes, “do you want my help or not?”

“yes, yes,” he nods. “i’ll send it to you when i get home,” she says. she walks to abby’s room, knocking on her door and biding ber goodbye.

“don’t get yourself arrested, mike,” vanessa warns him as she walks out. mike glares at her, but he knows she’s right. he looks back out the window once her car leaves his driveway. now you’re sitting on your porch steps drinking some water. as you take a sip, you manage to spill some on yourself, making part of your top see-through. mike knows he should look away, but it’s almost painful to tear his eyes away. his jeans are suddenly tight and he looks away in shame. he knows what he needs to do.

“can i have one?” abby’s eyes light up as she sees the cookies on the stove.

“only one,” mike says. “two?” abby changes her mind. mike sighs and nods, handing her two cookies. she grimaces at them, but still takes them. “did you make these?”

“yeah,” mike nods. “you should ask vanessa to make them next time. she’s an expert!” abby grins. she takes a big bite of one, slowly chewing and swallowing. “these aren’t terrible.”

mike’s eyes light up. when they first came out of the oven, he thought they were inedible.

“are you going to give these to the girl next door?” she asks. “i was thinking about it,” mike admits.

“get her something else to make up for the cookies,” abby says. she takes another bite, turning around and walking back to her room.

he takes her advice and goes back to the store. he picks out a bouquet of flowers that matched one of the types on your lawn. he takes a shower and tries on every outfit in his closet, which are all clones of each other. he goes out of his room, being met by abby at the table.

“you look like a robber,” she states. mike looks down at his outfit and back at her. “i do not.”

“you should buy more bright colors! like yellow!” abby grins. “i am not buying yellow,” mike shakes his head. she shrugs, “she’s going to think you’ll kidnap her with the cookies.”

“isn’t josie’s mom supposed to pick you up soon?” mike asks. as he said so, a minivan pulls up in his driveway. “call me if you need anything and behave!” mike reminds her as she rushes out the door. he watches as she gets into the van, making sure it’s josie’s mom who’s picking her up. once the car leaves, you come into view.

you’re chatting with one of the neighbors down the street. mike squints and looks closer, seeing a container of some type of food in your hands. he groans and rubs his hands down his face, his skin dragging along. of course everyone and their mother wanted to come and talk to you. you were the only thing interesting happening in this neighborhood since mike and abby moved in.

but he has to see you, to meet you.

he waits a little while, not wanting to overwhelm you. after an hour of waiting, he can’t sit still anymore. he grabs the container of cookies and flowers and makes his way towards your house.

his hand shakes as he presses your doorbell. he can hear the jingle from inside the house. he glances through your window, seeing boxes still sitting out, some opened and still sealed. he spots you walking towards the door and he steps a quick step back, his heart beginning to race.

you open the door, cool air hitting mike’s face. he can’t help but gawk at you. you’re much more beautiful up close.

you stand there, leaning against your doorframe and wait for him to speak first. he gulps, feeling his throat tightening and becoming dry. he’s parched all the sudden.

“hi, i’m mike,” he manages to say. you smile sweetly at him. “hi, mike.” you say his name slowly, making the ‘k’ sharp. he lets out a breath in response, looking down and remembering why he’s really here

“these are, uh, for you. to welcome you to the neighborhood,” he says, holding out the gifts. he’s never felt more out of place in his life. he feels stupid and uncomfortable, telling himself that this was a terrible idea and he should’ve left you alone. but as you take his gifts, you invite him inside. the offer makes his eyes go wide and jaw almost drop.

“i… are you sure? i wouldn’t want to intrude.” he says this, but he would be lying if he denied having any thoughts about going into your house and spending time getting to know you.

“yeah, i’m sure. you can help me eat some of the desserts other neighbors have given me.” you turn around and leave the door open. mike doesn’t know if his imagination, but your hips sway almost intentionally. you take slow strides, the sides of your body curving in. mike’s jeans get tight once again and he’s thankfully he’s wearing a t-shirt that can cover the tent forming.

his head perks up as you turn to face him, setting his cookies on the counter and putting his flowers in a vase. he’s astounded by how many other containers of sweets you have sitting around.

“wow. you’re popular,” mike chuckles. you sigh and nod, “unfortunately. don’t get me wrong, i appreciate knowing my new neighbors like me, but there’s no way i can finish all of these before they go bad. well, maybe i could, but i live alone and would rather not have pie and brownies for every meal.”

“i could take some home if that would help,” mike offers. “sure,” you say. “i assume they’ll be for your daughter?”

mike shakes his head quickly, wanting to erase any thought of him being with someone from your head. “no, no. i bet you’re referring to abby. she’s my little sister.”

“ah,” you say. he might be mistaken, but you look relieved. “she looks like a sweet kid.”

“she is,” mike nods. he looks around your house, seeing you’ve already started to decorate. his eyes catch a photo of you with a man and a little boy at a carnival. his heart sinks as he looks closer. the man’s arm is around you and you both are holding the child’s hand.

“that’s my brother and his son,” you say. you stand next mike, crossing your arms as you admire the picture. “that was my nephew’s sixth birthday. i won him a toy elephant.”

mike smiles a little. “i take it that picture was taken before you won him the toy?”

“yeah, but trust me, i did. and it was huge. he could barely carry it.”

“he’s a cute kid.”

“yeah, he got all the good genes from my side of the family.”

mike’s head turns to you and he stares at you again. you aren’t wrong. you’re gorgeous. you’re charming and funny, and your smile’s infectious. mike feels unworthy to be in your vicinity.

“do you like banana bread?” you bring him out of his daze. there’s a coy smile on your lips, like you know something about him. hear creeps up his neck and he makes a point to look away from you. “y-yeah, i do.”

you walk back to your kitchen counter, grabbing a couple plates and putting a slice on each. you walk to your living room and sit on the loveseat. you pat the space next to you for mike to join. it takes everything in him not to run over. he takes a small bite of the baked good after you do, lowly moaning at the taste.

“these are amazing. so moist and still warm,” he comments.

“the couple down the street brought these to me. laura and um… peter, i think.”

“oh, yeah. they’re nice. they bought abby a barbie when we first moved in,” mike recounts.

“wow, aren’t you two special,” you tease. mike laughs softly. “that’s the only gift we’ve received, but i didn’t care. and abby was just happy that she got a new doll.”

“well, now abby will have some treats to enjoy over the next few days,” you say.

“it’ll probably be gone in a day,” mike chuckles. “as long as they’re eaten,” you shrug.

a comfortable silence settles over you two as you finish the food.

“thank you for inviting me inside. you didn’t have to,” mike says.

“it’s no problem. thanks for being willing to take some of my treats home.”

“always happy to help,” mike remarks. he stands up, beginning to walk towards the door, but you stop him. you put your plate down on the couch ledge, your hand gently wrapping around mike’s wrist. your hand is warm and soft, making him feel all fuzzy. he turns to you, raising a brow in question. you take a shaky deep breath in, your mind racing with all the words you want to say.

“i want you to know, mike, i didn’t invite you in just so you could eat some banana bread.”

his mind is spinning. he’s confused, but also excited. “w-what do you mean?”

“i noticed you’ve been watching me.”

his heart pounds against his ribcage. sweat starts to form near his hairline. “i… i can explain.”

“there’s no need to because i’ve been watching you, too,” you admit. you take a step closer to him, or maybe he leans forward. he can’t tell who makes what moves. all he can focus on is his heartbeat that’s thumping in his ears and dark look in your eyes. he catches the way your eyes flicker down to his parted lips.

you lean forward, your lips hovering over his ear. he takes a deep breath in, the smell of shea butter and laundry detergent. your warm breath tickles his skin, making all the hairs on his body stand up.

“you should really keep your curtains closed when walking around with a towel on.”

his heart stops and he forgets how to breath. your fingertips skimming along his forearm brings him back to reality. his body feels like it’s on fire. he’s thought about being in this situation with you so many times. wondering how to make it come to life. he’s dreamed about you coming over to watch abby and that’s how it starts, or him helping you move something into your house and things escalate from there. he always thought that he would have to be the one to initiate something. honestly, he was so nervous, always thinking of how to make you like him. but now that you’re standing here, so close to him he could just lean in and close the gap between you two, he feels less foolish and ashamed of his thoughts about you.

you press a hand against his chest, feeling the soft tissue under his black shirt. you step further into him, but not so much to where you’re against him. mike can almost feel your weight and he wants it to be real. he needs to feel you pressed up against his lower half. he needs to feel your skin on his. he needs to know what it feels like to kiss you, hold you, fuck you.

“i know how you think of me, mike.” you say his name lowly. “i know you dream about me. i know you look forward to admiring me from your window.”

he’s so painfully hard. it physically hurts the way his dick is trapped inside his pants. he can feel a wet spot already forming, his pre-cum bleeding into his underwear.

“i think about you while i’m in the shower. i think about your big hands on my body. i wonder how it would feel with be pressed up against the wall, your cock inside of me. fuck,” you gasp into his ear. “i’m already so wet just thinking about you.”

mike grabs you by the hips, your body colliding with his. mike groans just at the feeling of your lips against his. he’s been waiting for this moment for so long. it’s so much more amazing than he could’ve ever imagined.

you take him by the shirt, keeping your lips onto his. your kisses become impossibly more messy as you both walk up the stairs. mike’s kisses are wet and desperate. his tongue slides against yours. your teeth clash with his as you push your body into him in attempt to get closer.

you leave his lips for a moment to open your bedroom door. “sorry, i still have to unpack some things,” you say, kicking some boxes out of the way.

“maybe i can help after,” mike offers. you give him a teasing smile. “after what, exactly?”

“after this.” he grabs you again, sliding a hand under your shirt. his hands are warm against your already hot skin. you sit down on your bed as his hand continues to scale your body, feeling over the underwire of your bra. he can feel your heart pound against your ribcage as his hand ghosts across your skin. you shiver in response. his touch is so gentle, so light. he wants to take his time with you, not believing he’s finally with you. but he also wants to rip your clothes off and fuck you so hard you can feel when you wake up tomorrow.

you scoot back onto the bed and he follows, his lips detaching from yours and starting to wander. you moan softly as presses sloppy kisses along your jaw and down to your neck. he begins to softly suck multiple spots, listening for which one gets the most rise out of you. there’s a spot just under your ear, close to the nape of your neck that has you breathing harder. you feel wetness pool on your underwear and you squeeze your thighs together. between his hand teasing your nipple and his teeth scraping against your skin, you’re tempted to shove his other hand down your pants.

he seems to hear your thoughts, taking his hand out of your shirt. he takes ahold of the collar of your shirt, ripping it open, buttons flying everywhere. you watch as his bicep flexes as he pulls on the material. you’re embarrassingly turned on by this.

“I’ll buy you another one,” he promises. you hum in response, shrugging the shirt off. you unhook your bra, flinging it behind mike. he takes his shirt off and undoes the buckle on his belt. you take the liberty in taking all your clothes off. mike pauses as he’s unzipping his jeans, looking down at your naked body. you quite literally take his breath away. your glistening folds is what catches his eyes and his mouth starts to salivate. he needs to taste you. he need you to come on his mouth.

“better than you imagined?” you ask. his eyes flicker back up to yours and you watch his pupil swallow his iris. “so much better.” he spreads your legs apart harshly, the sheets causing a burning sensation on your skin. he spreads your pussy with his fingers, burying his face into your thighs. his tongue first enters you, collecting your juices with quick swirls. he trails up to your clit where he attaches his lips to. he can feel you throb against his mouth.

“oh, fuck.” you throw your head back and your eyes roll. his fingers enter you and he can’t help but groan at how wet you are. you grip his hair and your thighs clamp over his ears and you begin to buck your hips up.

his fingers pump inside of you, making your legs shake. he sucks your clit with the perfect amount of pressure, his tongue circling every couple of seconds. your legs are squeezing his head so hard, you’re afraid you might burst it open. but he plants a hand on your thigh, his fingertips digging into your skin as he keeps your leg there. your moans become erratic. your chest is heaving up and down, your eyes screwed shut as you focus on the immense pleasure flowing through your body. your pussy gushes around his fingers, the sound turning you on even more.

mike starts to moan into your skin as if he can feel how amazing it is. the scruff of his facial hair prickles your skin as he begins to move his head, burying himself flush against your skin.

“mike,” you whimper, feeling close. you can’t help but shout out his name, your fingers pulling on the back of his head. your thighs tighten once more then loosen as you come. he doesn’t stop until you push his head away.

you look down at him. his lips and chin are shining with your juices. his hair is all disheveled and his face is all flushed.

“tired?” you tease. he shakes his head, taking off his pants and underwear. “i could do this all day.” at first you think he’s just joking. you’ve had men say that to you before, but from the way mike is looking at you, you’re confident he actually means it.

you sit up on your knees, taking him by the neck and kissing him. you can taste yourself on his lips and on his tongue. it makes you moan in his mouth. his hands find your waist and he pulls you into him, groaning just at how your skin feels on his. his fingers move across your back, feeling every inch of you. his hands land on your ass, playfully squeezing and earning a small gasp from you. one of his hands settle on your waist, slowly leaning you back. you fall on the bed, looking up at him with expectant eyes.

“do you, uh, have any condoms?” he asks. “i’m on birth control,” you say.

he’s shocked, to say the least. he would’ve worn a condom without a second thought, but man, he was feeling like the luckiest guy in the world.

he moves down to kiss you again. he can’t get enough of the way they fit so perfectly with his, how in-sync you are with him. he wants to get accustomed to making you come with his mouth, to feel your legs shake around him. he can’t wait to know what it’s like to be inside of you.

he has one hand by your head to keep him stable. his other hand hooks under your thigh, pulling you down closer to him. without a second thought, he slowly pushes into you. the moan you elicit could’ve made him come right then and there if he didn’t have any self control. his girth stretches you out as he pushes deeper.

your walls hug him like they’ve been yearning for him. once he bottoms out, he pulls back out only to slam into you. your hands wrap around his shoulders as he falls into a rhythm. your eyes screw shut as he hits that spot. your little gasps and moans spur him on. he takes a look down, watching as his cock disappears into your cunt.

“fuck,” he mumbles. he looks back up to your face. your chin is titled up and he can see your eyes roll to the back of your head. your lips are swollen and parted, his name tumbling out of your mouth. he could just fall in with you.

“mike,” you say, a hint of desperation in your voice. your nails dig into his shoulders and he knows you’re close. he lets his mind flow free with you in it. he doesn’t even have to focus that hard. your hips push up against his, the angle causing him to go slightly deeper. you both mumble a string a curses as you come. he pants your name as you feel him fill you with hot spurts, quiet whimpers sounding from his throat.

all you can hear is your heartbeat in your ears. you close your eyes for a moment and try to catch your breath. you open them back up once you feel him pull out, his cum oozing down your thigh. you watch as he puts back on his briefs, walking into your bathroom and finding a washcloth.

you can’t help but grin from ear-to-ear at his sweet actions. you let him clean you up, his thumb rubbing circling long your hip. you tug back on your underwear and grab a t-shirt and shorts from your dresser. you walk him downstairs, grabbing a few containers of sweets and handing them to him.

“i’ll, uh, talk to you soon?” mike asks. you stifle a giggle at how shy he suddenly has become. “of course,” you nod. you open the door for him, planting a sweet kiss on his cheek.

the next day, mike swears what happened with you was a dream. he just can’t wrap his head around the fact that he was inside your house and you let him come inside of you. but as he grabs his mail and sees an envelope from you, he’s assured that it was real.

he opens the envelope as he walks up his driveway, choking on air as he sees a polaroid of you in black lingerie. he takes it out, holding it up close to his face to make sure he’s not imagining things. he flips it on the back, seeing a message from you.

take me out on a date and maybe you’ll get to take that off of me xx

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader smut #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt smut

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cranberryjuice-posts · 3 months

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I’ll crawl home to her

Pairings - Abby Anderson x Fem! Teacher! Reader

An - i love this trope of Abby with a teacher like, her coming home after a long day of patrolling and clearing out infected and her just wanting to be in your arms and hear about your day

An pt 2- hozier is slowly taking over my life him and mitski will be my downfall

Palestine aid link

Abby leaned back in the bed of the truck, her cheeks bright red from exhaustion and the heat. The setting sun blaring down on her and her group after a long day of patrolling.

She hated days like these. Having to leave you before you woke up, just to be out all day until the sun set. Manny chuckled “ahí va ella” Abby looked over at him unamused. “What’s that supposed to mean”

“Nothing Nothing Just pointing out something” he continued. The blond sighed annoyed before looking behind her at the fast moving scenery. Secretly she wondered what the world would of been like if it hadn’t ended— would she of met you, would you both of still been happy, maybe you would of met her dad.

Pushing that thought aside Abby lifted her hand waving at the guys on guard to let their group into the base. Once off the truck she avoided multiple people to not get stuck in conversation.

After turning in her guns Abby made a b-line straight for your apartment. The only thing that really mattered to her right now was to be at her home. In your hallway she hesitated before opening your door. Letting out a tired sigh she walked in.

“And that’s what I’ve been saying, I told Julia that it doesn’t matter if back in her day if—“ you stop mid conversation with Mel to see Abby standing in the doorway.

Mel took note of Abby’s exhausted appearance, patting your shoulder “I’ll see you tomorrow ok” she gave you a soft smile before leaving. Once mel was gone you opened your arms waiting for Abby to walk over.

Abby quickly pulled you into a hug taking a deep breath in just to take in your subtle perfume. “Rough day” You asked leaning back some to take a good look at her worn out face. “Yeah, just.. a lot” she sighed.

You nodded leaning up kissing her gently before stepping down, grabbing her hand and walked her over towards your bed. Abby swore up and down your kisses were the sweetest thing ever— so sweet she would get toothaches.

Setting Her on the bed you silently grabbed your first aid kit to help clean some of the cuts on the girls arms and body. Not once asking her about the people she had killed, or even wondering about the wrong she had done, only wanting to help take care of her. “Shit abs your running a fever” you frowned pulling your hands away from her forehead. “I’m gonna make you some tea ok” kissing her cheek you walked towards portable stove you had recently got preparing a fresh pot of tea.

Abby admired your figure from afar, the long grey military sweat pants that didn’t quite fit you as they were Abby’s, your dark bra and how you had your hair pulled up. She had always liked when you wore your hair naturally down but didn’t mind seeing it pulled back either.

You started to hum a lullaby as you turned the stove on. Slowly moving back and forth Abby almost thought you were nothing more than a dream, like you were a figment of her imagination.

Returning back to the blondes side you helped her out of her clothes— giving her a clean set that you had lying around from earlier times she stayed over.

After a few minutes you placed some of the tea in a mug, handing it to abby you started to stitch up a deep cut in her bicep. It amost made Abby cry how you never worried About what her hands and her body had done, never asking about who or what she had killed, only ever concerned about her no one else

Once she was taken care of you took the now empty cup from her and set it aside. Pulling the covers back you laid down in bed, taking your bra off mainly because you knew Abby liked the skin on skin connection. Waiting for the blonde to strip out of her shirt, you laid down allowing her to fall ontop of you.

You started to undo Abby’s braid as she lightly kissed along your collarbone. Raking your fingers through her hair you started to whisper. “I get it sweet girl.. I get it, it’s ok”

Massaging the girls head you started to tell her about your day. Soft and sweetly showing Abby your love “So I had taught my class about world history today, and we had—“

Abby started to doze off quickly falling asleep. Even if she had died on an assignment No grave could hold her body down she’d still crawl home to you.

#Spotify #lesbian #wlw #abby anderson tlou2 #abby the last of us #abby x reader #abby tlou #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #tlou2 #tlou fanfiction #tlou fluff #abby anderson fluff #the last of us fanfiction

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itsbecomeblue · 1 month

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glue 002 ellie williams imagine

don't dare forget about palestine

sinopse: you might have a crush on your friend, college!au

cw: swearing, basically fluff, ellie plays soccer, puppy love again because that's my thing, slightly nerdy loser!ellie, reader and ellie are oblivious, not explicit if reader is fem or masc, not exactly proofread.

you had been up all morning, not up really, awake. it was 11:43 when you actually got up, sick to your core. niyah had checked on you before she left for her classes, leaving you some cash for lunch, it's not like you didn't have any but niyah just felt like a mom sometimes. she also gave you a forehead kiss.

you rubbed your eyes while your other hand hugged your aching stomach. you grabbed your phone and squinted at the brightness of the screen.

“shit fuck.” you hissed, boy did your head hurt. you had suspicions that ellie had made so much nervousness pile up in you that it was threatening to explode your head and your poor stomach.

you had always been a little… anxious and got nervous when you hung out with new people, especially without your best friends. they were your safe space, you smiled sweetly thinkin about them, so you read over the texts on your group chat ‘take ur meds’. never the instagram one, because it's just your friend luana spamming instagram reels.

you laughed at your phone, turning it off just to wait for your friends to show up, you knew they would. you grabbed a piece of fruit and sat down again.

you grabbed your little notebook where you did all of your journaling, you always read some pieces before actually writing in it, so you did that. ‘ellie’ this ‘ellie’ that, from just last night before you got sick. but maybe you had already been sick from the moment she stepped into the room.

sick in your stomach, crippling nervousness. you and ellie hung out so much 1 on 1, so you assumed that's what happens when two anxious people get together to talk alone, even though you had known each other for a while now. you didn't give it much thought, well maybe you did. you wrote in pink ink...

‘she's so cute’ ummm late night thoughts were so funny to read over, right? just hilarious. ‘ellie williams #8’ adorned with stars and hearts? you were already sick last night, for sure!

on the other side of campus, ellie was at class but her mind was on the same side of campus as yours. ellie was very much in tune with her feelings for you, she'd say. ‘we're so awkward, we need to get closer!’ that's all you two needed, right? just that. she sighted, you looked at her adorned name in your notebook, she imagined your face adorned with flowers and asteroids?

she needs to pay attention in class! she'll think about you later, she wants to text you but she'll see you at lunch anyways so she decides against the text. ellie tried her best to focus on her boring class, impatiently waiting to see you again.

abby had texted you a few to let you know she was coming over, she was your childhood friend, inseparable at that. caring and loving, gentle giant abigail anderson. she was now on your carpet in front of you bed.

“so, did you take your meds?” she laughed, abby was a med student and definitely a good one but damn her she didn't know shit about pharmacy.

they might’ve teached her some of it, but this girl had very selective memory, it's not like you know what they teach at med school anyway. but you still thought she should cure you everytime you got sick, all your other friends agreed too.

“yep, i looked it up. turns out my friend being in med school doesn't serve me anything.” you stretched my leg to touch her with your feet and she gave you a disgusted look.

“you're such a bitch to me, i came to see you, sick girl.” she grabbed you by the ankle and pulled you with no force.

“abbyyy!” you laughed and tried yanking your feet back and she used more of her strength. she laughed with you and you felt less sick.

you two kept it up until you were falling off your bed onto her, she grabbed your torso, manhandling you so you looked at her. she looked mischievous, she had something up her sleeve.

“how's our favorite soccer star?” she smirks and you look scared, head jumping up and hitting hers. “hey! ouch lil girl…”

she soothed her head before soothing yours, with harsh pats... you weren't sure if she was soothing you or actively making it worse. you both laughed again, what the hell was wrong with you? you had slipped out of her thighs and sat on the carpet, right next to her.

“she's…” you coughed. “she's alright, i saw her yesterday.” you nodded to yourself and abby nodded back.

“right… right…” abby stared at you, smirk still in her lips, waiting for something.

you thought of what she might’ve wanted you to say. you used your brain so much that you realized something, eyes widened and eyebrows furrowed.

"what? you look like you developed your first thought.” she chuckled and you looked frightened.

“i forgot to tell her i'm sick.” you searched for your phone around the carpet and the bed.

“why would you have to tell her?” abby leaned back, watching you look for you phone.

"you know, even if she was a nurse in your wet dream, i don't think she can help.” she added when you ignored her.

“abby.” you actually slapped her nape and she hissed. “we were supposed to have lunch together, i don't wanna be rude and leave her hanging.”

“oooohh you're bailing her on your lunch date.” abby loved pressing your buttons and she knew which ones to press.

“yeah, our date at the campus cafeteria, abigail.” you found your phone under a pillow, one that you were sure you checked before. whatever, you texted ellie.

“abigail is crazyyy…” abby got up and peeped your phone from behind and you pushed her face, the fat on her cheek smushed. “sweetness, let me see.”

abby had a big sweet tooth growing so when you became friends, her dad started calling you tooth and sweetness, since she could never get enough of you. she clinged to it even now, when she was being nice but really often when she pissed you off.

“fine, tooth.” you caressed the cheek you had pushed. she laughed and playfully bit your shoulder as you turned off your phone.

“it's fine, y/n. she'll understand, of course.” abby slurred, you turned to her.

“yeah, i know. i wanted to see her though.” you rubbed your nose sitting on the carpet again, followed by abby.

“you'll see her soon, it's alright.” she patted your head and you looked at her blankly. “what? don't wanna see me too?” she pushed you head and snickered.

“i do, stop abby!” you laughed, pushing her back.

“you gotta crush and now you're gonna abandon me and lua.” she shook her head. “you won't abandon niyah because you live with her, but who knows! you might move in with ellie.”

“what are you even talking about?” you chuckled at her while she tried to maintain a serious face. “i'm not abandoning anyone.”

"AHA! so you do have a crush on ellie, lil girl…” she laughed loud, slapping her knee, now it was your turn to maintain a serious face while she laughed.

“first, you’re not funny. second, i don't have a crush on anyone.” she arched her eyebrow you held her temples, pressing her eyebrows back to their place. “stop, i don't”.

“be for real with me, pookie wookie.” you cringed hard with her.

“you can leave.” you both laughed so loud until she stopped and tapped your lap. “but she makes me nervous.”

“i know she does, might be something, don't you think?”

“mmm, i don't think so, we're both pretty anxious people so…” you shrugged and abby did too, she'd never pry.

“you might be right, time will tell.” she casually says as gets up. “you wanna order some? “i'm hungry.” you nod and she takes her phone out.

ellie on the other hand, is frowning at your texts, she's upset she won’t see you and she's upset you're sick. she immediately texted her friends dina and jesse about it, asking to have lunch with them instead.

she'd waited for them to meet up with her on campus, holding her phone. she wanted to text you again, but you probably needed rest so she opted out to spam texting cat, who wouldn't reply to the groupchat texts. cat was a fucking ghost most of the times, even when they dated... girl gets busy. when dina and jesse finally got there they walked together.

“y/n bailed on you, damn.” jesse shook his head ironically and dina rolled her eyes.

“shut up, jesse.” dina tickled his ear and smirked. they were walking towards the local subway.

“yeah shut up, she's sick dude.” ellie replied, with little to no humor.

her friends noticed. her hands were in her jeans pockets and she was looking down, jesse and dina knew her all to well to know she was even just slightly upset. childhood friends are like that, you'd know. abby was exactly like that with you.

“what's wrong?” jesse asked, palming her shoulder. dina stopped walking but ellie kept going, making them get back to walking too.

“nothin’. it's dumb, i just miss y/n or whatever.” ellie slurred, looking at her sneakers. jesse and dina chucked and she snickered.

“okay, okay. my bad.” jesse looked sternly at dina so she'd stop laughing. “you had plans?”

“actually yeah, i was gonna invite her to see me play saturday.” she looked up.

“it's wednesday, man. you can ask her later.” jesse started. “right?” he looked for ellie's eyes.

“as in a date?” dina asked, not afraid to. ellie was always open with them, she wasn't embarrassed by her feelings even though sometimes she was confused.

“nah, not a date. and yes i can ask later, but i get nervous and… i dunno.” she held her fingers as she sighed.

“just say it, els.” dina chuckled, jesse and ellie chuckled back.

“yeah, alright. i want her to see me play but i get nervous to ask and i thought i’d do it today.” ellie laughed at herself. dina and jesse nodded, they understood her.

“it's alright, you will ask. don't worry, she's gonna be thrilled.” jesse slapped ellie's back and dina looked at him in disgust.

"thrilled" dina mocked jesse, holding her fingers up as quotes.

they all busted out laughing as they got closer to the subways shop, talking about the saturday game, but never distracted ellie from the thoughts of you.

taglist: @mikellie @amberputh @ellslvr @elliesactualgirlfriend @macaroni676 @onlinelesbo @aispike @kalyxvfx @ellieschair

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sweetercalypso · 1 year

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Tan Lines (Abby Anderson)

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: Abby comes home to find you sunbathing and fucks you in the yard

Notes: 18+ only, minors dni!! Fem reader, slight praise, pet names (pretty, babe), fingering, mentions of Abby’s strap – literally no plot in sight. This was written for every body type in mind because every body is a bikini body!!

When Abby gets home, she’s scorched.

She’s late – she knows because the sky is already tinged orange, painting the landscape in modest sepia tones. The mid-July sun burns well into the evening now, leaving the air warm and sappy and full of life.

Abby’s hair sticks to her neck and small wisps fall into her face, and she’s relieved to be home after a long day out in the sun.

Despite the heat and the cruel humidity, this is Abby’s favorite time of year. Abby loves the summer sun because she knows the sun brings heat, and heat brings bikinis.

She closes the front door behind her with a huff, noticing that the air in the house isn’t much cooler than the air outside. She kicks her shoes off and yanks her ponytail out, unraveling her tight braid while she looks around the house. Usually, you’re waiting by the door when Abby gets home. But today, you’re nowhere to be seen.

“Babe?” Abby calls out for you, peeking her head into the kitchen and wandering down the hall in search of you. She finds the back door open, the golden light from outside leading her into the secluded backyard.

There, she finds you laying on a frayed beach towel, soaking in the remnants of the day’s dwindling light. Your feet kick idly behind you while your head rests on your forearms, facing away from your girlfriend’s presence.

Abby swipes at the sweat beading across her forehead, and even though she’s exhausted by the heat, her energy is renewed by the thought of what you’ve been doing all day under the bright summer sun.

She stalks over to you silently, eyes roaming your exposed skin and the barely-there bikini that does little to cover your backside. The straps that are supposed to hold your top in place are now limp at your sides, the planes of your back entirely on display for Abby’s enjoyment.

She hums out a little sound of appreciation, making her presence known. You shift to face her, a small smile crinkling your relaxed features.

“You’re home,” you murmur, stretching your arms out in front of you and rolling your neck to relieve the idle stiffness in your muscles.

From the looks of it, you’ve been outside all day. Little items are scattered around you – books and sunscreen and anything else you could think to carry out into the yard. Your skin is warm and bronze, and Abby’s eyes are drawn to the crisscrossing lines across your back that show where a summer’s worth of golden tan has been interrupted by the material of your swimsuit.

“Did y’have a good day?” she asks, raking a hand through her crimped hair, trying to brush out the subtle waves left behind from her tight updo.

“Mmhm,” you answer affirmatively, reaching a hand out to motion her closer.

She shuffles towards you before crouching at your side, knees landing on the edge of the shabby towel that you’d spread out on the lawn.

“It was so hot today,” you say, admiring the pink of Abby’s flushed face. The apples of her cheeks are ruddy and dark, and you remind yourself to take care of her developing sunburn when the two of you head inside.

She nods in agreement, letting her fingers trail over your warm skin now that you’re within reach. Her calloused hands trace the curve of your spine, sending a burst of soothing energy through your core. The combination of Abby’s touch and the warmth of the evening air lulls you into a relaxed state, causing your eyes to flutter until they’re shut.

“Your top’s undone,” she comments, entranced by the sheen of sunscreen glistening against your skin.

“I don’t want tan lines.”

She scoffs under her breath, running her fingers over the faint stripes left behind from previous days spent outside. “It’s a little late for that.”

Her fingers slips under the waistband of your bottoms, pressing softly into the warm skin there until you snap back into focus, looking back over your shoulder at her.

“Maybe these should come off too then,” she suggests in a slow voice. “You’ll get tan lines.”

A short nod is enough of an answer for the blonde, and her fingers work to untie the strings at each hip. The garment slips free and Abby pulls the loose bottoms from around your waist.

Her hands come up to grip the globes of your ass, fingers digging into the flesh like she doesn’t know her own strength.

“So pretty,” she murmurs, swinging one knee over your form to straddle you from behind.

With quick fingers, she slips the untied top from beneath you, throwing it somewhere in the yard without much care.

Your face falls into the crook of your arm as Abby’s hands return to your backside. Her hips shift against your ass, hinting at the friction you’re desperate to receive.

“Abby,” you mutter into your arm. “Need you – need your fingers.”

Her digits press gently into the dip of your lower back, massaging the muscles there with lazy pressure. “Need my fingers here? Is that what y’wanted?”

Your response is something indecipherable, a combination of pleasure and frustration fueling your muddled thoughts.

Abby seems to understand anyway and she shuffles back to rest her weight on the backs of your legs, giving her just enough room to part your thighs.

“Thought about you all day,” she says, ghosting her fingers over your center. “Laid out in the yard, looking so sweet for me – wanted me to come home and find you like this, huh?”

Your hips buck in impatience and Abby quickly settles you back in your place. “Sit still, pretty. Wanna fuck my girl nice and slow.”

Two thick digits delve into your core, parting your slick walls with a delicious pressure.

“Worked so hard today,” she says mainly to herself, scissoring her fingers to gently stretch your cunt. “Now it’s my turn to relax.”

Breathy moans fill the air, reverberating off the wooden fence that encloses your yard. Abby’s speed picks up, her fingers pumping into your cunt faster than your languid mind can keep up with.

She slides in and out in quick motions, drawing slick down her knuckles and onto your inner thighs.

“That’s it, pretty. Show me how good it feels.”

Abby thrusts her fingers into you a couple more times before changing course and sliding them out entirely. Before you can complain, she grabs you by the waist, pulling your ass into the air and pushing back into you.

The new angle allows Abby to move deeper into your cunt, curling her fingers up and pressing into that spongey spot at the top of your walls. With her free hand, she reaches around the front of you to rub messy circles over your clit.

“Pretty pussy’s sucking my fingers in,” she says. “Sounds fuckin’ beautiful.”

With her fingers working at a steady pace, her hips begin to follow suit, shifting slightly in stride with her movements. Her dense thighs smack into the backs of your legs, reminding you of her familiarity with this position.

“Takin’ me so good,” she grunts, becoming more aggressive with her movements. “Gonna take you inside and fuck you properly after this. Stretch you around my cock until you’re crying.”

Her promise fuels the tightness that had been building in your core, and with a few more strokes of her fingers, the pressure snaps and brings you to a finish.

The hand rubbing at your clit moves to grab your waist to hold you up, keeping you from sinking onto the hard ground beneath you. Abby slows her fingers inside of you, coaxing out the end of your orgasm before she’s pulling her fingers out and slipping them into her mouth.

She moans as the taste of sunscreen and sweat and you settles on her tongue.

Before you have time to catch your breath, she’s on her feet and pulling you up to stand on shaky legs.

“C’mon, let’s go inside — we’re not finished yet.”

#calypso writes #Abby Anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson smut #abby anderson fluff #abby x reader #the last of us #tlou abby #tlou #abby anderson drabble #tlou x reader

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totaly-obsessed · 6 months

Note

Could you write for leah where leah amd reder have kids and its parents evening and one of the kids have bad reports.

Parents Evening

Leah Williamson x reader request

-> Leah and Reader attend a Parents Evening and there are a lot more tears than expected

➳ Masterlist

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“Abigail Lynn Williamson! What is this?”

And with that Leah knew that her calm evening was over. It was never fun for the twenty-eight-year-old to hear you, her wife, yell. Especially not at your eight-year-old daughter Abigail, who was currently cuddled up to the blonde’s chest, carefully watching her little brother crawl on the floor.

“What did you do?” The defender’s whisper was met with an even quieter “I don’t know Mama.” But the flushed cheeks and restless eyes trying to avoid looking into her mothers gave her away. Abby knew exactly what was up, and it didn’t take Leah long to figure it out either.

You had rounded the corner now, a crumpled piece of paper in your cramping fist – your face just as hot as your daughter's (at least she had gotten something from you). “I found this at the bottom of your bag, Missy.”

Your oldest child tried to hide herself in Leah’s side, who knew that that was not a good idea and pulled her out of it. “It’s not important Mommy. I promise!” By now Leah had stood up, and tried to take the paper from you – but your grip would not allow it. So instead, she maneuvered you to sit down on the arm-chair.

You had just entered the third trimester with your third child, and pregnancy was a bitch.

This was the last one, as you liked to remind your wife every evening. But she did not believe you. If she knew anyone who wanted a big family, it was you. And after you had Abby, you had also claimed, that she was the last one. Even though she was only the beginning.

“Nothing you say?” Abigail’s eyes were still fleeting from Leah’s, too scared to look at her mother, even though she knew that Leah could not be mad at her.

“Dear Parents, I would like to invite you to attend your daughter’s year 3 parents’ evening on Thursday second of November. The evening will run from 4.30 pm until 7.30 pm and will be a chance for you to meet your child’s teachers and discuss their progress, behaviors for learning, and attainment in each subject.”

If you had not been so mad, your wife would have laughed at the scared look on her daughter’s face. She was petrified. “Yeah but it's not-“

“Not mandatory? No, it is not. But a bright pink sticky note says ‘Dear Mrs. and Mrs. Williamson, please attend the evening – I would like to have a word with you. Yours faithfully, D. Halliwell”

Abigail tried to ignore your stare by sliding off the couch onto the floor, trying to motivate her three-year-old brother, Noah, to play with her. But the young boy was tired and just wanted to look at the pretty pictures in his book.

After successfully having Abigail through IVF, the next attempts had failed, and for four long years, Leah and you had struggled to get pregnant again. While the process was grueling, you were so incredibly happy to have Noah with you, and both Leah and you had learned a lot through the process.

“So what baby – It’s a parent's evening, not the end of the world. What’s up?” Your ever-so-loving wife had moved behind you, massaging your tense shoulders, trying to calm you down – anxious for you and the baby. “The second of November Leah.”

But nothing clicked in the blonde’s head. “That is today. Baby. And it starts at four-thirty. That is in an hour.” Now the footballer understood. The problem was not that there was a parent’s evening, or that Abby had ‘forgotten’ about it but the fact that it was today.

Tears started to well up in the eight-year-olds eyes, pulling yours out as well. You were already an emotional person, but seeing your baby cry? The end of the world – not that the pregnancy and its hormones were any help at all.

“I’m sorry Mommy.” A now crying Abigail climbed on your lap, pressing her wet face into the crook of your neck, sobbing.

Leah's heart broke at the sight, but instead of getting involved, knowing that the two of you needed to talk, she took Noah and made her way to the kitchen. “Please don’t hate me, Mommy.”

“Oh, Baby. I could never hate you. I am not mad, okay? I just want you to tell me things like this – and lying about it does not make it better. Do you understand?” You gently wiped away her tears as the small blonde sniffled a small “Yes, Mommy.”

Your wife had re-entered the room a nearly asleep Noah on her hip, her phone in hand. “Beth and Viv are going to pick them up in a couple of minutes, go on up Abby – pack your bag.” After pressing one last, very wet, kiss to your cheek your daughter hurried upstairs to pack her overnight bag, excited that she got to stay with her favorite aunties for the night. “Lee, I’m a mess. I look-“

“Beautiful.” The defender pulled you up by your hands, eyes fleeting to the baby bump. “I’m gonna get them two ready, while you’ll get yourself ready, yeah? Don’t hurry, we have enough time as long as we are there by half six. Go take a bath baby.”

Before you reached the stairs, your wife pulled you back by the hips for a quick kiss – but after she pulled away ending the kiss, she quickly doubled down – into a bruising heavy kiss. “Alright, up ya go.” The blonde’s voice was hoarse as she gasped for air, a cocky smirk on her face.

By five you had said goodbye to the kids, promising Beth and Viv that you would bring breakfast to pick them up. The couple was over the moon, happy to take in their favorite arsenal kids, even on such short notice.

Both Leah and you were dressed to impress – your wife in a nice beige suit and you in one of your favorite winter dresses. Occasions like this were still scary so you wanted to make good impressions. It was nerve-wracking that you did not know why your presence was requested, but even with Abby in year three you still did not know if the teaching staff was completely fine with both you and Leah as a married couple and mothers.

The fear of homophobia is still at large.

During the drive Leah tried to calm you down, drawing shapes and hearts onto your thighs – but you were still tense. And that did not change. Not after you had been greeted at the door and escorted to Abigail’s classroom by a prefect.

“Mrs. and Mrs. Williamson, nice to see you again!” Mrs. Halliwell greeted both of you with a firm handshake and a tense smile on her lips. Leah, being the best wife ever, pulled out one of the chairs on the opposite side of the desk for you, gesturing to sit down. She took the seat next to you and her hand quickly found yours under the table.

“I am glad to see that the invitation for this evening has made its way to you.” Blue eyes met yours, as Lee looked at you, remembering what had happened not too long ago. “Regardless I am afraid that I do not have much good news for you.”

There it was. The panic that had been boiling up deep inside of you.

Both you and your wife were preparing for the worst, whatever it may be.

“Abigail does not have the best marks in most subjects. Except for physical education.” Mrs. Halliwell threw a quick glance at Leah, who was obviously the athlete in the relationship.

You knew that Abby’s marks were not the greatest, but you were working on it, helping with homework and various projects. You had even gotten a tutor for math, the subject she felt the most insecure about – and it was her idea.

“She cannot pay attention to things longer than ten minutes, always playing around with toys or drawing. Her behavior is poor at best. She does not listen to a word I say, always thinking about something else. Things must change.”

There was a feeling in your stomach that you did not like – you hated it. The nagging voice of the teacher nearly made you doze off, you could not even imagine having to sit through it for hours like your poor daughter did.

But the disgust Mrs. Halliwell held in her voice when she talked about Abigail made you tear up. Sweet little Abby, who could listen to you read to her for hours, being able to recite every single one you had made up for her as she wrote them down in a storybook, just for the two of you. She even drew pictures alongside it, wanting to share them with her brother Noah, and her unborn sibling.

Sweet Abigail, who would hang on to Leah’s and her teammates ’ lips, desperate for every bit of footballing information she could get. But apparently, the teacher knew a different side of Abigail, one you did not.

“Do you have anything nice to say about or daughter?” Leah was getting angry as well, her grip on your hand tightening as her jaw clenched.

Mrs. Halliwell drew in a sharp breath as she filled through her papers “She is very opinionated and does not let anyone talk over her. Abigail is a great leader as she takes charge of the football team.” What sounded like a compliment, felt like a punch to the face as she called your daughter bossy. Not a single word that left her lips was said with joy, dislike lacing every word.

Leah could feel your anger radiating off you and she knew that she had to intervene “So what can we do to better things?” The woman whom you had thought of as ‘nice’ got uglier in character the longer you looked at her. Pursed, chapped lips, dry eyes with thin damaged hair – she looked tired. “As long as she doesn’t change, I don’t see any way she could improve.”

Change.

She wanted your daughter to change, instead of helping her as she was. “Change in what way?” Leah was more composed than you, used to watchful eyes and judgment. “She needs to calm down and stop talking every chance she gets – Abigail needs to pay attention. But personally, I think that it is hopeless.”

Boom. There it was.

It was over and Leah knew it, letting go of your hand as you stood up, a hand pressed to your tummy. “Excuse me? Hopeless? You are talking about an eight-year-old girl. Someone who is dependent on you, to learn. If you teach the way that you talk to us, I can understand why she does not pay attention.”

You were in full mother-bear mode, protective of your young. And while Leah was angry as well, she needed to control the situation.

And her thoughts, as she could not help but find it incredibly hot how angry and protective you got, about your child, hers in your tummy.

“Where are her things?” The stunned Mrs. Halliwell just stared at you as you, as you stood in front of her – steam practically pouring out of your ears. She pointed over to one of the desks. Of course, it was the messiest in the room, Leah’s genes coming through strong.

Your wife understood clearly, gathering all of Abby’s things from the table, as well as from her drawer in the class cupboard. “We will be going now – and you will hear from us. Have a nice evening Mrs. Halliwell.” With that you stormed out, Leah hot on your heels with Abby’s arts and crafts in her hands as the door slammed shut behind the both of you.

You held it together until you entered the car, tears escaping you in streams. “Did you hear how she talked about our daughter?” With a coo, Leah pulled you into her chest. A gentle hand stroking your hair, trying to calm you down. “I know darling.” More sobs shook your body, reminding her of how Abby had cried earlier in the day. “She was so mean to my baby, Lee!”

You both had decided to pick Abby up from the Miedema-Mead house, wanting to talk to her alone, in need of a bit of quality time with her.

Viv pulled you into a deep hug with Noah in her arms, who really wanted to stay the night at their house. The Dutch had no idea what happened, but she could see your need for stability. Beth and Leah were leaning against your family car, the defender explaining what happened quietly to her friend whose eyes were as wide as dinner plates. “Is that teacher still alive or did Momma over there get to her first?”

Abigail was quiet in the car, afraid that she was in trouble. You had given up your seat in the front, opting to sit next to the girl, holding her hand in yours.

Back at home, Leah had led everyone into your bedroom, helping you up into the high bed, your bump slightly in the way. “Are you okay baby?” You knew that the question was for the both of you, as the eight-year-old cuddled up between the two of you “Yeah, I’m fine Mama. How are you?”

And there they were again. Those annoying tears. Sweet little Abigail who was so considerate of her Mom’s feelings.

“I’m fine, thank you, baby. We wanted to talk to you about something. Is that okay?” The smaller blonde nodded, fear taking over her eyes as well. “Sorry ‘bout my marks – I’ll get better. I promise” Her little voice was muffled by Leah’s shirt that she was burrowing herself in. All three of you had changed into warm, matching pajamas as soon as you had gotten home.

“Don’t worry about them, darling.” Surprised eyes met yours as you pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Do you like Mrs. Halliwell, baby?” The instant mean face that she pulled, looked exactly like your wife’s when she was in a bad mood – answering your question without words. “That’s okay, Darl. Why don’t you like her?”

“She is so boring and she can’t explain things – I don’t understand anything. She doesn’t answer my questions and she doesn’t let me read when she asks for volunteers. I know how to read! Better than Ben, and she chooses him every time.” Her angry rambling reminded Leah of you when the book you read does not end the way you want it to. “And she doesn’t let me draw when I am finished with my questions, she yells at me a lot. And she, she jus-“ Abigail couldn’t continue, sobs wrecking her tiny body and eventually yours.

You were a terrible mother; how did you not notice? Even big and strong Leah was close to tears, watching some of the most important people of her life cry, kissing both her girls on the cheek. “Kay baby. Ya need to answer a question for us, okay? Think about it for a sec.” You held your breath as Leah asked her mini-me: “Do you want to leave Mrs. Halliwell’s class?”

The nod did not even come a second later. “Just her class or the school? Mommy and I can homeschool you til the next year starts. We can find ya a nice new school?”

“Yes please, Mama.” It was heartbreaking to see this little girl ready to give up her school because of a teacher. The principal would hear of this, and you would make sure of it.

“Please tell us if something makes you sad okay baby? We can try to fix it, but only if we know what’s up.” Abby had her smile back, as she nodded at you – imitating her mother, placing slobbery kisses all over your face, making you giggle.

Leah could barely contain her joy. Her girls back laughing again – and with Abby homeschooled she would not need to dry your tears every morning when the small blonde left the house.

“Do you have a wish baby? Your birthday is coming up.” She thought hard. Much harder than she had when deciding if she wanted to leave school – “A baby sister please.”

Both Leah and you were stunned.

A baby sister.

You had not told anybody the gender of the new baby yet – but it was safe to say, that Abby would get what she wanted. Her birthday would be a complete success.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #arsenal wfc x reader #woso #engwnt x reader #woso imagines #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson #lionesses x reader

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ohcaptains · 1 year

Text

as long as it takes.

pairing. abby anderson x female! reader

synopsis. Abby’s generous with her love. She gives, and seldom takes. It’s why she takes her time with you. Why she slowly works you over, dragging you to your eventual release as if she has all the time in the world. Though this time, it’s taking far too long.

an. based off of this request. pls like, reblog and comment. i appreciate it endlessly<3

warnings. 18+. minors dni with this fic & my blog. abby manhandles you (hand on jaw -- not choking), references to anxiety and stress, crying, assplay?...assplay (blink and you’ll miss it) fingering...squirting...

You’re all too aware of the clock on Abby’s bedside table.

The ticking fuels your anxiety, and you glare at the bright red numbers, seeing that it’s been about half an hour. Abby usually got you there in just under ten.

Her record was three. Two and a half, if you minus the time it took to get your pants off.

Fuck. Okay. Ignore the clock. Just focus on Abby.

You huff, turning away from the box and sliding your palm into Abby’s loose mousy blonde hair. She hums, tightening her grip on your spread thighs.

The echo of the sound makes your belly flutter, and your breathing hitches when she swirls her tongue around your clit again, hitting the edge of the nerve.

Okay, yeah, this is good. Abby is good. Good doesn’t even cover it. She’d had a lot of practice – had you strewn out on her bed like this too many times to count.

She flattens her tongue and swipes it through your folds, broad and unafraid, and the spit from her mouth dribbles down your thighs, pooling onto the sheets.

It was slow and sloppy yet tinged with a desperate edge – just how you liked it. So why was it taking so long? The pleasure is there, but it’s distant, hidden behind the swirl of thoughts that are blocking you from reaching your high.

Abby hasn’t complained once.

Realistically, you know she wouldn’t. Or if she did, it would be in jest, but all you can think about is that maybe Abby wants to stop. Maybe, Abby wants to just get this over with. But she wouldn’t be going this slow if she wanted to…what if she’s just tired? Guilt washes over you, thick and unwavering. You frown at her ceiling, whimpering in frustration more than desire.

Snap out of it, you tell yourself, breathing deeply and closing your eyes.

You try and block out everything but Abby – focus on the sensation of her nose pushing into your clit, her tongue darting over your puffy hole. She circles her tongue around your clit again, stroking long and slow, and you stutter her name, hips bucking up an inch.

Your thighs push at her hands, desperate to clench around her head, but she tenses her muscular arms, keeping your legs spread open. You whimper, trying to fidget, and Abby hums a laugh at you.

“That’s it, baby,” she mumbles, her voice deep and coated in desire, “take it.”

Your fingers tighten in her hair, your body going taut as Abby sucks at your clit, and the familiar wave of pleasure finds you. “Please – fuck,” you moan, tone high pitch and desperate. You turn your head to the side, back arching, trying to grind against her mouth.

“Just – “you choke, clenching tight, “Rightthererightthererightthere,” you whisper all at once, the rush threatening to spill, and you briefly think, finally.

Fucking finally.

It’s been about 45 minutes now, nearly took an hour. There’s a part of you that feels bad. A part of you that wants to shy away and apologise because It’s obscene. It’s embarrassing, really, it’s never happened before, and it’s – it’s gone. It’s gone.

“No,” you whisper. “Fuck,” you curse, shaking your head, trying to get it back. Trying to focus, but your brain has sabotaged your body once again, your high fluttering away from you.

“Shit,” you huff, loosening your fingers in your girlfriend’s hair.

Abby looks up in understanding. She places a kiss on the inside of your thigh. Her comforting voice finds you. “Just gimmie a minute, and I’ll try again.”

She sits back, and the warm light of her bedroom illuminates the slick that’s coating her chin and cheeks. She wipes it away with the back of her hand and rolls her neck and jaw. The ache between your thighs slowly begins to fade, even as you take in her disheveled state.

Her hair hangs loose around her shoulders, kinky from her signature braid and a little frizzy from your wandering fingers. There’s a pink flush to her freckled cheeks, and her lips are swollen and wet. She licks them. At some point in the last 45 minutes, she’d taken her shirt off, and is now topless. She mindlessly rubs her chest, smoothing her fingers over the top of her breasts.

You lazily look up at her, naked from the waist down. The top half is covered with Abby’s loose-fitting tank, and the wide arm holes don’t leave much to the imagination.

“’ ’m sorry, Abs,” you sigh, “It’s not happening.”

But your girlfriend ignores you, too busy reaching her arms up and stretching her thick muscles out. She drops her arms and holds onto the dips of her neck, rolling her head around. The position lets you see the wide bulge of her muscles, covered in freckles and a light sheen of sweat.

“It takes as long as it takes,” she says nonchalantly. The bed dips as she drops between your legs again, “just gimmie another minute, and I’ll get us there.”

She goes to shove her arms under your thighs again, but you cringe away from her, shaking your head.

“It’s been ages already. I’m just…in my head.” She laughs, “Well get out of it.”

She’s joking, but it makes a lump form in your throat.

You look down at her, your pretty, desperate girlfriend, so eager to make you come that she’s willing to spend nearly hours trying to get you there. You try and swallow the lump down, but it won’t budge, and you let out a shaky breath, trying to stop the tears threatening to spill.

Abby hears the change in your breathing and looks up.

“Babe?” “Fuck, I’m sorry,” you splutter, wiping the tears from your eyes. “I’m being silly.” “Oh, sweetheart.”

She says the endearment so softly, that all of your bottled-up feelings come rushing back at once, and you hiccup a sob. You reach up and cover your face with your hands, tears spilling down your cheeks freely.

You’ve been so stressed recently, anxious about a month-long upcoming supply run that you’d helped plan. Abby was leading the charge. Everyone was putting so much trust in you, and it was incredibly overwhelming. No wonder your brain was pulling you every which way.

“Ugh,” you groan, shaking your head. “I don’t wanna cry, I’m just –” you sniffle, and Abby tugs your hands away, holding them in her large palms. Her inner brows are slanted, concern marring her features.

“It’s okay,” Abby tries to soothe, knowing the source of your stress. Usually, her words would bring you comfort. But this time, there’s too much to soothe. “It’s not,” you sob, and Abby sighs. “I know, but stressing about it isn’t going to help.”

Annoyance floods through you, “I know that!” you huff.

The force of your near shout echoes throughout the room, and Abby flinches, jaw tensing.

Your eyes go wide at her sudden clip demeanour. “’ ’m sorry,” you quickly whisper, lip wobbling. Another tear slides down your cheek, and you furiously wipe it away, “’ ’m sorry,” you say again, voice breaking. Abby’s features slowly soften as you apologise for the third time, “’ ’m sorry for being loud, m’ just frustrated.”

“I know,” she coos. The corners of her lips lower. “I know baby, come here.” She tugs your hands forward, pulling them around her neck, and you reach into her, cuddling into her large frame as she twists, laying back on your shared bed. Her wide hands come up under your shirt, rubbing your back, coaxing you to relax your entire weight into her. You nuzzle the side of her head.

“’ ’m sorry,” you sniff, and she kisses the side of your head. “I’m trying really hard to concentrate and it just…slips away from me.” “These things happen, baby,” she whispers, “We Just gotta stop the distractions.”

Abby continues rubbing your back.

Her wide palm drags up the expanse of your back, calloused fingers from years of training rough, but soothing. Her loose hair smells of her vanilla shampoo still, with a hint of smoke and rainwater from being caught out in the woods when it poured earlier.

Her hand continues its languid rhythm, and you nuzzle deeper into her neck, sighing in contentment.

You feel yourself slowly drifting off, losing all sense of reality, until you blearily come to as her hand trails lower, fingertips smoothing over your ass. You don’t think much of it, until she takes a handful and tugs, hitching your crotch up, grinding it against her sweatpants.

“Abby,” you whisper, sound muffled by her neck.

She hums in response, massaging your ass in her wide palm. It’s sort of comforting, but you sense she’s not doing it in that regard, especially as she grips tight, revealing your damp folds to the cool air. You whisper her name again, and she smirks when she hears your sharp inhale.

Abby continues playing with you.

Not really touching but touching all the same. At some point, your fingers move, and you flatten your hand on her chest, just below her shoulder. “Abs,” you voice. She pushes her mouth against the side of your head, “mm?” she sounds. “’ s’not gonna work,” you whisper, already doubting yourself.

Abby tuts, “Not if you keep on thinking like that,” she taps your thigh, “leg up.”

With a huff, you go to move, but Abby gets impatient and tugs it up anyway, pressing your knee into the mattress by her waist. The position leaves you exposed, and anyone walking in right now would see Abby Anderson’s hand trailing over your ass, fingers dangerously close to your damp folds.

She slides the width of her heavy hand between your cheeks, the ball of her palm pushing there, and you jolt, sighing into her neck.

Abby’s fingers move further, pressing against your pussy, and your slick makes her fingers slip, forcing them between your damp folds. Your nerves short circuit. Heat floods between your thighs once again, and you stutter, “F-Fuck, Abby.”

“Mm,” she hums again, cradling your shoulders with her spare arm.

She takes your hair, speaking against the side of your head. The words are muffled, but you make out, still so wet, baby, as she drags her long fingers through your used pussy, fingers sliding over your swollen hole.

You mewl into her neck, clawing at her shoulder.

She doesn’t ask how you want it.

In fact, she’s so lazy with it, so lethargic and slow, that it’s as if it’s not happening at all.

There’s no real big scene, and no real direction to her movement, either.

She just plays with you, sliding her thick fingers through your folds, back and forth, the ball of her palm dragging over your asshole, and fuck, it’s so openly dirty that you have to hide.

Have to push your face into her neck and moan, trying to conceal how good it feels. Abby doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t tease you like she usually does.

At some point, she stuffs her thick fingers against your clit and drags, and you gasp her name, grinding back into her hand. It swells beneath her fingers, but she doesn’t pay it that much attention. It’s as if she’d touched it by accident, didn’t really mean to, because she moves away, instead choosing to push her cupped fingers against your entrance – not inside, just across – and you feel your slick coat her, feel it spread over abs.

You go quiet. No noise, just the stutter of your breath against her neck.

Again, Abby doesn’t say anything. No teasing. No, like that? No, ask nicely and I’ll fuck you with them.

The frustration is still there, but it’s directed at her.

Pressure builds behind your clit, and you want more. Want it quicker than this, so you push back. Try and match her rhythm by rolling your hips. If you catch her fingers at just the right angle, she’ll push against your clit, you’re sure of it.

You imagine yourself spread open on top of her, grinding your cunt back into her hand, the ball of her palm pressing between your ass cheeks, and you’re embarrassed again.

This time, at how much you want it.

Wanna come, wanna come, you whisper into her neck, rolling your hips up. Your clit drags against her abs, and you clutch her shoulder. “Wanna come, please,” you whine pathetically, pussy clenching around nothing.

She’s got you whining and begging, and she’s said fuck all.

Abby’s managed to subdue you, with her quiet, yet commanding aura. She’s got you laying on her, not griping you all that tightly -- you could move if you wanted to, and yet, it’s as if you can’t.

She’s letting you use her.

Her fingers accidentally hit your clit again and your eyes roll back, mouth opening, and you moan into her neck, grinding faster, pussy dragging against the thick of her fingers, moving, fingers scratching into her shoulders, and you’re whimpering her name, a constant drabble, Abby, Abby, Abby, you go, and you’ve soaked her chest, so wet that you’re slipping over her fingers, rutting, drooling her name, saying, please, please please fuck fuck fuck – it’s there, and --

She senses you slip. Senses you lose it, the whimpers suddenly annoyed and irritated. Abby slides a hand under your chin, and knocks it up, clasping her fingers over your cheeks. She makes you face her, forehead pressing against yours, blue eyes wide and intense.

“Come back to me,” she orders.

Her voice catches your attention, loud and commanding in the silent room.

You clutch her broad shoulders, there, you’re there, until your belly bottoms out, and you’re pouting. “Abby,” you sigh, frustrated, eyes closing, and she shakes her head, “No, don’t look away.”

She’s close enough that your noses touch.

“Look at me,” she commands, and you do. How could you not? A warm, comforting rush consumes you. Abby’s everywhere. She’s there. Right there. Eyes bore a hole into your soul as she whispers, “Keep your eyes on me.”

And you keep your eyes on her as she pushes two fingers inside of you, stuffing you, and you hear how wet you are. You gasp at the sudden pressure. The angle gives her easy access to the spongy part inside of you that makes you go docile. She curls her fingers and presses against it. Your eyes roll back, pussy squelching around her thick fingers.

“’ m’ my god, Abby,” you moan, suddenly drunk on her. The clutch she’s got on your chin loosens a little, but she still keeps your forehead pressed against her, fingers pressed tight in your cunt. “That feels so fucking good,” you sob, clenching down. The pressure pushes up at the back of your clit, too. You hold the hand she’s got on your jaw, swallowing, and trying to settle your quickened breathing. Abby bumps your nose with hers.

“Look at me, baby.”

She whispers it, voice strained. Blearily, you blink down at her. Her blue eyes look fucked out – alive.

“No one here but me. No thoughts but me, okay?” she asks, but it’s not a question. She does ask one, though, cocks her head to the side, teasing glimmer in her eyes as she whispers, “What’s my name?”

Her fingers slide out of your pussy, then plunge back inside. You moan, slick pouring over her digits. Abby tightens her grip on your chin, “name.” “Ab-Abby.”

She smiles, proud of you. “’ s’right baby, you keep thinking that.” She drags her mouth to your forehead, kissing quickly, before pressing a messy, wet one to your lips, mumbling, “Keep thinking about me,” then she drags her fingers out of your cunt again, pushing them in and up as she mutters, “Keep thinking about me while I do my fucking job.”

Her words make you sob.

Nearly say thank you, then you can’t say anything at all, as she fucks her fingers into you. You grind your clit into her abs, delirious from the pleasure. The tension coils again – was never far away -- swirling in your belly and pooling in your lower back.

Abby doesn’t let you run from it. Doesn’t let you drift. Her hand continues to be locked around your jaw, and the pressure is constant, reassuring, keeping you tethered to her.

She speeds up, and you chase her fingers, letting out a drawn-out moan. The ball of her palm presses into your ass again, and you clench tight, losing composure.

“Fuck,” you sob, eyes rolling back. Your nails drag over her shoulders, and you let out a pitiful sob as you whimper, “’ 'm gonna come Abs,”

As if on cue, she drops your chin, and lets you press your face into her neck.

She drags the free hand between your bodies, stuffing her hand against your clit while the other fucks up into you. The sudden pressure there makes you see stars, and you choke out her name as your body moves, grinding your clit into her hand.

Your legs are shaking, your heart thumping against your chest, and your orgasm is so close, that suddenly, you’re frightened it’ll slip away again.

“Abby— “you sob again, her name a shaky cry into her neck. You clutch the side of her throat, grinding into her hand. “Please,” you gasp, “please it’s so close, please.”

“Shh,” she whispers into the shell of your ear. “Take it like a good girl.”

All at once, it hits you, blindsides you – grabs and pulls you under.

You go tight. Body locks up -- clenches tight around Abby’s fingers, and she lets out a depraved moan of her own, coaxing you through it.

That’s my girl, that’s my pretty girl, she whispers, tone strained and taut. Her words knock you over the edge, and you sob her name, pussy convulsing, gushing over her hand.

“’m’mygod my god, Abby, so good – so fuckin,” you whimper, riding out your orgasm against her chest and hand.

Your pussy soaks her, wet enough that you hear her fucking her fingers up and out, walls fluttering around her thick fingers as she drags your orgasm out of you. Your legs shake, fingers clench tight around her shoulders as it goes and goes and goes, nerves shot, and you yelp as the sensitivity suddenly hits.

You shove a hand between you to grab Abby’s wrist, trembling, and Abby stops, wet fingers lax in your grip.

The room fills with your laboured breathing. Abby’s chest pushes in and out, the adrenaline leaking from her body as you breathe deep into her neck. Your heart begins to slow, the ache between your thighs slowly dispelling, and it’s then that you whisper, “fucking finally,” into her neck.

Abby laughs. You pull back to see her smiling face, and she’s flushed red, sweat beading over her hairline. “You – “she starts, breathless. She leans back into the pillows, rubbing her forehead. “that was really fucking hot.”

You beam from it, sitting up straighter. Lazily, you glance between the pair of you, and her abs are slick from you, the crotch on her sweatpants damp, too.

“You see how easy that was?” she jokes, grabbing your attention. She wipes her cheeks with the back of her hand, sniffing. “You gotta clean me up, baby,” she sighs, rolling her neck, “I can’t move my arms.”

ao3. more abby. ko-fi.

#Abby Anderson #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x reader smut #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x female reader smut #abby anderson imagine #tlou #tlou2 #the last of us #the last of us part 2 #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson tlou #smut #abby anderson x f!reader

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kdogreads · 10 months

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Y/n is close with Abby like the mom figure to Gibbs being her dad figure. Gibbs and y/n have only ever had words in passing They are always friendly with a flirt now and then. One day Gibbs uses Abby's cot to get some rest he wakes up to y/n and Abby talking about blind dates.

"Y/n I'm gonna find you a companion in life. Just do one more date"

*y/n sighs* "I'm just not the type of person people are looking for and that's ok"

*as she leaves the lab* "Abs some people are ment to be alone"

Gibbs comes out telling Abby that he will be taking y/n on the next date.

This is such a sweet idea!! I’m sticking it with this request bc I feel like they just fit together so perfectly. I hope that’s okay by both of you 🥹 thank you so much for the love!

Jethro Gibbs x f!reader

TW: alcohol, a smidge of angst (reader thinks she’ll be forever alone), mostly just a heap of fluff

A/N: I’ve never been able to use any of my nerdy lab knowledge in a fic before so sorry if I went a little overboard lmao (I’m a pre-analytical training coordinator and spend my days teaching people to be labbies basically). Thank you so so so much for reading! ❤️

Just before you left for the day, you decided to head down to the lab check in on Abby. It was quality control week, meaning she had to got to run test patients on all of her instruments, confirm the results are what they should be, order biological indicator tests to make sure no foreign bacteria snuck its way in where it shouldn’t have, then do it all over again a dozen or so times to make sure the results match up.

Not that Abby is anything less than capable of completing the quarterly checks, it just gets very tedious, and Abby is not a fan of busy work.

“Hey Abs,” You greeted her sweetly.

“There is no Abby, only QC’s,” She quipped back in her best robot voice.

You only chuckled in response and grabbed a pair of gloves without another word. You started resulting the tests in her queue, a feeble attempt to help the boring task move along faster.

The two of you worked quietly on opposite sides of the lab for another half hour until you moved the last tube into the “finished” tray.

“Wanna grab some dinner?” You questioned, removing your gloves and heading over to the sink to wash your hands.

“No, thanks; already ate,” Abby responded without looking up from her work, “Hey! How did that date go last night? I can’t believe I forgot until now! Tell me everything.”

Abby turned towards you excitedly, her eyes bright and body fidgeting in anticipation. You swear she was more invested in your love life than you were sometimes.

You started to shake your head “no” and Abby let out a loud groan.

“Ugh! I had such a good feeling about this one,” She spoke in disappointment.

“You said that the last time, too, Abs,” You leaned against the counter and crossed your arms lazily, “He asked me to meet his mom. On the first date!”

Abby visibly cringed and put a hand lovingly on your bicep.

“I’m gonna find you a companion, I swear it!”

You let out a sound that’s half laugh, half sigh before you speak, “It’s okay, really. I’m just not the type of person anyone is looking for, and I can’t find the person I’m looking for. It’s just the way it is, Abby.”

She sent you a sympathetic look, squeezing your arm in reassurance. Abby pulled you into a tight hug, like she was trying to will a new love life into you with her bare hands.

You sent her a loving smile when she finally pulled away from you.

“Well, I’m gonna head out. You sure I can’t drag you away for something to eat?”

“No, no. I have too much to get done,” She motions to the empty tubes behind her, “Don’t lose hope, Boss Lady. Your perfect man is out there.”

You headed towards the door before turning around to tell her goodbye, “Some people are just meant to be alone. It’ll be me and the dogs forever,” You smiled slightly, “Goodnight, Abs.”

You made it almost out the door of the NCIS building before you realized you left your purse in the lab. With a huff, you begrudgingly dragged yourself back into the elevator, down to the lab, and right up to the doorway. The surprise of two distinct voices coming from within stopped you in your tracks.

“Gibbs! You can’t sneak up on me like that! I didn’t know you were using the cot.”

“Sorry, Abs. You often set her up on blind dates?”

“Yes! I am determined to find my wonderful boss’ soulmate somewhere in the greater DC area.”

Jethro chuckles.

“I can’t believe I didn’t see it before now! She’s just your type, Gibbs, and she’s so fun and cryptic just like you and—“

“Abby,” He paused, “Way ahead of you.”

You decided now was your chance. Knocking gently on the doorframe, both of them turned their heads to see who was there.

“Hey Abby; Jethro,” You smiled, trying not to act like you just heard their whole conversation about you, “I just, uh, left my purse.”

Abby looked around and spotted your bag, handing it to you with a cheeky grin on her face. You all stood there in semi-uncomfortable silence for a beat before Gibbs spoke.

“Have any plans tomorrow night, Red?”

You straightened up a bit at his question and the playful nickname. You are just his type.

“Um, no. I don’t. Not yet, anyway.” You tried to keep an even tone, but the nerves and excitement were practically seeping out of your pours.

“My place, 7 o’clock,” Gibbs said in his nonchalant tone, “Casual. Hope you like bourbon.”

He winked at you and walked out of the lab before you could even exhale the breathe you hadn’t known you were holding. You looked at Abby, your eyes wider than ever before.

“Eee! I’m so excited!” Abby squeals and flings her arms around you.

You couldn’t even put any thoughts together. Your heart pounded out of your chest and your hands must’ve been shaking, the adrenaline of the situation just starting to wear off.

“Come on,” Abby said while sliding her jacket off the back of her chair, “I’ll finish up tomorrow. We have to plan your date. With Gibbs!”

You let out a laugh and wrapped an arm over Abby’s shoulders, heading out to grab something to eat.

You nervously sifted through your tops, trying to find something that felt “casual,” as Jethro had requested, but still nice enough for a date.

Oh screw it.

You grabbed a plain olive green hoodie, the big white letters reading NCIS. You figured if he asked for casual, he would get casual.

The drive to Gibbs’ house went quickly. You’d been there once before, when Abby insisted Gibbs needed company one New Year’s Eve. You didn’t end up staying very long, but he left an impression on you. After the visit, Gibbs started stopping to say “hello” in the hallways at work, or bringing a coffee up your office every now and then.

One detail you remembered from your brief visit is the front door was never locked, so you didn’t bother to stop and knock.

Walking through the doorway, your eyes immediately gravitated to the only light on in the house — the one leading down the stairs to the basement. You took this as your sign to invite yourself downstairs.

The stairs creaked slightly as you made your way down, the sounds of sandpaper meeting wood filled your ears.

“You found the place,” Jethro’s strong voice greeted you as you stepped into his workspace.

“How could I forget?” You teased back.

Jethro let out a honey-soaked chuckle and offered you a stool to sit on. He poured you two fingers out of his half-empty bottle of bourbon, then did the same for himself. He tipped his glass to you and you tapped yours against it with a slight clink.

You shut your eyes as the amber liquid burned down your throat. Instinctively, you leaned back against the counter and let out an exhale.

“Long day?” Jethro joked, but you could see the genuine care when you opened your eyes to meet his gaze.

“Long week,” You responded before taking another sip, “Abby’s up to her eyeballs in evidence to examine, plus all this QC crap takes so much time. I just feel bad I can’t help her more. I didn’t realize taking the lead forensics position would take me out of the lab so much.”

Jethro nodded in understanding, one corner of his mouth tilting up slightly as he poured more into your already empty cup.

“Abby’s the best of the best,” He said with confidence, placing a hand reassuringly on your knee, “She’ll get it done.”

You smiled and nodded back at him, placing your hand over his as a silent thank you.

You were surprised when Jethro broke the comfortable silence first.

“You know she thinks the world of you, Red,” He said with a look in his eye, one that almost looked like pride if you had to guess.

You felt your cheeks get hot and you looked down at your shoes, unsure if the liquor or his sweet comment made you blush.

You took another sip before lifting your head back up and responding.

“Same goes for you, Jethro,” You reached out to grab the hand that rested on your knee just moments before, “I think if she had time to write a book about how much she adores you, she would.”

He laughed, a full laugh, glazed in honey and bourbon and it warmed you to your core. You thought that sound could end wars, cause the devil himself to crack a smile. You would have melted right there if he didn’t jolt you out of your trance a moment later.

He took the glass from your hand and whispered a quick, “c’mere.”

He took your hand and led you over to the boat he was building. He showed you a few small hand tools and gave you a quick explanation of their use.

Before long, his hands were resting over yours, your back pressed gently against his chest as he showed you the different sanding techniques he used. Though every inch of his body was pressed against yours, you’d never felt so free, so held and yet, so comfortable.

It was a quiet few minutes before he spoke, his lips inches from your ear.

“You ever done this before?” His breath tickled your neck and sent a shiver down your spine.

“Never,” You breathed, trying your hardest not to just melt into his strong arms.

“You’re a natural then.”

He slowly peeled his hands back from yours, allowing you to keep sanding on your own for a moment. You felt his strong hands slide down your arms, your sides, before settling on your hips.

Your eyelids fluttered, suddenly aware of the effect he had on you. Your movements halted and Jethro raised a hand cautiously to your chin, turning your head to face him.

“This okay?” He questioned gently, a worried look settled into his furrowed brows.

You didn’t answer immediately. Instead, turning your whole body to face his, your arms sliding over his broad shoulders to rest at the back of his neck.

“Only if you intend to kiss me, Jethro,” His name danced from your lips in a whisper.

A soft smile spread across his face, the worry melting away in an instant.

“Yes, ma’am, I do.”

Before you could comprehend, the hand that was still on your chin drifted to hold you just below your ear, and his lips melted into yours in a sweet, slow kiss.

He tasted of bourbon and something you were sure was just distinctly him.

You leaned further into him as your lips met over and over again. His presence wasn’t demanding, but invasive. You felt Jethro in every inch of your body; his taste, his smell, the way his fingers gripped into your hip like he was afraid you might disappear if he let go.

The seconds felt like hours before you separated your lips, both of you desperate for oxygen. Your chest heaved slightly as he drew small circles onto your lower back absentmindedly; his forehead leaning down to rest on yours.

“Do you bring all the girls down here and make out like teenagers?” You teased, still slightly out of breathe.

He threw his head back in another honey-glazed laugh. It invaded your sense just as his kiss had.

God, you though, I could listen to that forever.

“No,” He huffed, a wide smile still spread across his face, “Only the special ones.”

“Ohh,” You exaggerated, “So I’m special, then?”

He only growled an Mmmhhmm before his lips pressed into yours once more, this time slightly quicker than the time before.

“Hungry?” He asked simply, prying his lips from yours, a slight groan falling from your lips as he pulled away.

“Starving,” You replied without missing a beat.

He raised an eyebrow and leaned slightly further away from you, letting him see your full expression.

“For food, sweetheart,” He jested, a hint of teasing in his voice.

“I know!” You squeaked, swatting his shoulder playfully in protest.

He chuckled that charming laugh and nodded his head towards the stairs.

“Well, come on then,” He spoke after pressing a quick peck to your lips.

You followed Jethro upstairs where you enjoyed a delicious homemade dinner and spend the rest of the evening basking in each other’s company.

You sighed as you reached the top of the stairs, just outside your office. Since you rarely locked the door, you turned the handle and swung it open. You were surprised to see the light already switched on. A pit formed in your stomach as your eyes scanned the room before—

“Jesus, Abby!” You found her sitting at your desk chair, literally shaking in anticipation, “You almost gave me a heart attack!”

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” She quickly approached you, taking your bag out of your hand and setting it down in the desk, “Sooo? I’m dying to know! Tell me everything!”

“Ab,” You smiled at her an tilted your head slightly in a playful manner, “A girl should never kiss and tell.”

Abby squealed in excitement and pulled you into a hug, clearly understanding that it went well enough for you to kiss him.

“Please tell me you’re seeing him again. Please, please, please,” She practically begged with her hand folded in front of her.

“Tomorrow, after work,” You smiled as she squealed and pulled you into another excited hug.

“This is the best day ever!” She declared and sat in the comfy chair across from your desk, determined to get all the details from your life-changing first date with Jethro Gibbs.

#leroy jethro gibbs #jethro gibbs #jethro gibbs x reader #ncis fluff #ncis fanfiction #ncis imagine #ncis gibbs #kdogreads #gibbs x reader #reader insert #ncis x reader #abby x fem!reader #abby sciuto

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fayesia · 4 months

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Helloo!! If your not busy or have enough time, could you write an imagine from the husband!mike schmidt blurb? It was the third one, about reader going to the grocery store with a bunch of hickeys on her neck.

You had awoken much earlier than your husband, he was resting peacefully in a mass of white sheets and pillows after his long and gruelling night shift, meanwhile you got ready to run some errands. You put on a pair of bell bottom jeans as well as a cute checkered off the shoulder top, which showed off the crevice of your breast and your collarbones. After applying your makeup and jewellery, you fiddled with your wedding ring trying to remember where you put the car keys. Trying to quietly tip toe around the bed to retrieve your bag however Mike had woken up from his slumber.

“Oh looks like sleeping beauty has finally awoken”

“Don’t i need my knight in shining armour to kiss me for that”

“ah yes my apologies, let’s try it again then”

Giggling you watched as Mike closed his eyes again and waited for your lips to meet his. Leaning over you gently kissed him, about to pull away until he deepened it.

His tongue entered your mouth as you moaned against him, Mikes arms wrapped around your waist pressing you closer against his body. Holding onto you he sat up while you curled in his lap, his mouth travelling down the side of your neck straight to your weakest spot. Your moans growing increasingly louder when he started sucking and biting marks into your skin, just above your collarbone and across your chest. He pulled down the stretchy material of your top, brushing his mouth against the soft and supple skin of your breast, sucking more marks onto your perfect skin. He reached down to unbutton your jeans until your hands stopped him.

“unless you wanna drink water for dinner, you’ll have to wait until after my errands to do anything” Mikes mouth opened to retort but you were quick to stop him. “nope. no buts, now i better go before i get stuck in traffic, which will mean you’ll have to wait even longer before you see me.”

He slumped in defeat knowing that you were not one to argue with, instead gently kissing you and nodding his head to show he understood. Grabbing your bag you walked to the front door putting on your shoes and making your way into the bright summers day. Making the mistake of not looking in the mirror on the way out. Although would it really be a mistake?

Driving through the traffic and almost throwing hands with an old lady to find a parking space close to the grocery stores entrance, you made your way through the aisles as your trolley soon became more full. Consisting of ingredients for tonights dinner and snacks that Abby loved as well as some art supplies which she would be more than happy to see after getting home from school.

Heading over to the check out area you begin placing items on the moving conveyor belt. Looking up as you made eye contact with the cashier scanning your items, he couldn’t have been older than a college student, he offered a small awkward smile asking how you were. Politely responding, you hoped the conversation would end soon so that you could get home to Mike.

You felt eyes on you as you looked up watching the cashiers eyes rake you up and down, they stopped at your chest, not even wavering with shame as he read out the price. You pulled out your credit card, glaring at him as you payed, making sure you held your hand there long enough for him to notice your shiny bright diamond wedding ring. His eyes widened when he noticed, a sheepish smile plastered across his face, mouth opened as he stuttered to wish you a good day but you were already walking out of the grocery store doors to even bother replying.

Racing back to your car you were filled with rage at the absolute nerve of that man—no, boy, one can barely consider him to be a man. Looking into the mirror of your car while attempting to calm yourself your eyes took a double take at your neck, your mouth only widening further in shock once you saw your reflection. Numerous hickeys of colours varying from purple to red to pink were littered from the base of your neck to the top of your breast. Shaking your head you remembered Mikes antics from this morning, nonetheless it surely better have taught that cashier a lesson and you hoped it had bought him a lot of embarrassment as a result of letting his eyes wonder a bit too much. You knew once you told Mike about this he would never let you leave the house without at least marking you once, his way of making sure everyone know that you are his.

His girl, his woman, his wife.

~unedited~

#josh hutcherson #mike schmidt #fnaf #fnaf movie #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt x reader #imagine #oneshot

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atyourmerci · 6 days

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Softdom!abby X plus sized insecure reader ♡

Abby painting all the things she loves about your body

CW: smut, MDNI, softdom!abby, sub!reader, plussized!reader, reader is anxious, me making up shit ab artistry, face sitting, fingering, mult orgasms

♡ ♡

In your sun kissed painting room, abby lies against your velvet couch, her blonde hair glowing against her pale flesh. She often modeled for all of your class assignments so she was used to her spotlight.

She loved watching you at work, so concentrated as you perfected your craft. She would do anything for you, she just wanted to help her beautiful girl.

As your eyes are trained on the majority of a blank canvas you zone in on creating your base, knowing your girlfriend would stay still so you can get your perfect shot.

“Why don’t you ever let me pain you?” Is heard from behind the white canvas propped up on your easel.

It caught you so off guard your head peaks around the board to look at your girlfriend. hmmm? Comes out as an honest confusion.

She giggles to herself at how locked in you truly were, “why don’t I ever paint you?” She reiterates.

You giggle back at her question, “because you can’t paint for shit,” you toy with her playfully.

“And what if I wanted to try huh, maybe I’m not using the right medium perhaps,” she comes back with a sophisticated air to her tone.

“Yeah yeah okay, just sit and look pretty,” you say getting back to your work when you hear a rustling, seeing her get up from the couch to approach you, “don’t move! That was a perfect-,” before you could finish her hands are wrapped around your stomach as she kisses the side of your face.

You can’t seem to protest with the naked woman behind you, touches of her sun soaked skin drenching you. You lean into it, letting her do as she pleased.

“I want to paint you,” she says in between peppering kisses down your neck. You giggle at her insistence, “baby I think we’ve been over th-,”

“No, no I want you paint on you,” she whispers into your ear as her hand cups your jaw gently.

“N-now? Right now?” You turn to face her, she had to be joking, right? Abby watches you with doe eyes, nodding back at you.

“But it’s bright in here,” you say averting your glance, the pit in your stomach growing with anxiety of the thought. Your nervous tick of flexing your fingers beginning, and abby notices.

Taking your palms into her own and rubbing circles with her thumbs on top of your hands in order to soothe you.

“I know. I want to admire every part of you. I want you to see what I see baby. Is that okay?”

A white tapestry lies beneath your barren body, stripped of all the confines and masks you build up to protect perception.

There’s no real reason to hide from abby. She adored every inch of you. Every marking on your body was akin to threads of gold to her.

Now tracing them with your paintbrushes, creating flowers from the stretch marks on your stomach, one of the biggest insecurities you had.

You once tried to hide them, turning around to change, avoiding mirrors that may give away your secrets. She’d trace them in the safety in the darkness, admiring your body for taking care of you, protecting you when she couldn’t.

As she aimlessly paints away at your flesh she admires her artwork, not the paint itself, but her own human body sculpted for her eyes. She rambles on about how you represent the body of a Greek goddess, full and radiant.

Her light touches, soft words, and longing glances sending you into the deepest form of arousal you’d ever known.

To be loved is to be seen

Beginning to form dainty flowers amongst the stretch marks in your inner thighs you couldn’t take it anymore, breath getting heavier, her mouth beginning to gape at your dripping arousal…so close to her touch.

“Please sit on my face,” she sounded depraved, as if she’d die without it.

“B-but the paint,” you breathe out, not giving a shit, but knowing there would be a mess.

“I don’t fucking care, please baby,” she pleas, gripping into the flesh of your thighs.

You’d never done this, allowed yourself that vulnerability. You’d berate your thoughts, always worrying you’d be too heavy. What if she thought you were too much, too heavy for her? Would it change her mind about you?

She guides you above your mouth, paint smearing across her cheeks. You begin at a hover, attempting to make yourself lighter, more palatable.

“Baby all of you, please I need you,” you hear from her, tugging on your thighs to sit comfortably on top of her.

A sigh of relief floods you, releasing the tension and submitting to her completely.

If she could have eaten you whole, she would have. Sloppily licking down your cunt, pressing down your thighs to get as close as she could.

She made you whine and shake till your tired limbs gave out, falling down onto her, letting your body rest completely. Planting kisses on your forehead while she runs her fingertips through your hair.

“Let me do the work this time, just lay there and look pretty,” she says gazing down at you with a grin, knowing she’s stealing your line.

Your body sprawled out on the cloth, completely revealed to her open-mouthed gaze, sun kissing your sweaty flesh.

Driving her fingers into you she can’t help but stare at your pretty mess, paint covered, soaking cunt all of her. “Look so fucking pretty like this,” she coos, sending your head back in pleasure.

The feeling of full liberation, complete autonomy over your body, at the hands of her.

‘mine mine my girl my fucking pretty girl’ she can’t stop herself from babbling, watching as her piece of art comes to life.

Even after you finish from her fingers she can’t stop looking, obsessed, utterly enthralled at the thought of getting the honor of fucking a goddess.

Dried paint chips away at your bodies as the sun goes down. Bare bodies lying there for hours. Maybe you’d never leave this moment.

#abby anderson #the last of us #abby anderson smut #abby x reader #abby tlou #abby anderson tlou2 #abby angst #abby the last of us #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson x reader #abby tlou x reader #abby x you #dom abby anderson #abby anderson x f!reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson fanfiction #abby anderson fanfic #plus size reader

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lover-of-mine · 7 months

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I have more unhinged thoughts about Buck and costume design choices, so stay with me for a bit. I will be using Buck's previous relationships to make the point tho, so tw Taylor Kelly.

This started going around my head in a very innocent "it's so cool that they chose to put Buck in green during the coma dream" because Buck wears red a lot. Like, a LOT.

And green is on the other side of the color wheel. So him in green during the coma dream deeply bothered me for no reason.

Because like, when Buck is wearing bright colors he's usually around here on a color wheel because there's the burnt orange he wears sometimes too. So they put him in his complementary color, and the whole thing with complementary colors is to create contrast and I was mindblown by that a little bit once it registered.

But then I was making an edit and I noticed that Buck is wearing green when he breaks up with Taylor. Which is fine, we all know the whole Blue and Green thing with couples in 911, right?

So I just moved on with the idea that they put him in green because the relationship is wrong and moved on, until I noticed he wasn't always the green character. Because then shit gets interesting.

Because, when does he become the green character? When he tells her that he kissed someone else. So he's the one wearing green when the relationship starts to fall apart and when they break up.

And that alone for me is fascinating because oh my god the costume department is out there working overtime. But I am a dog with a bone and what's another time where Buck is wearing green? The fight with Ali. Who's also wearing blue, very light blue but still blue.

But also just accepted this as just a blue and green thing with couples because Ali is not around enough for me to use her to establish a pattern.

But I was also on high alert about other situations he might be wearing green, not that all of them fully registered until this morning when it finally clicked that he's wearing green on the cemetery scene.

Because another time he's wearing green on his own is when he takes Red to see Cindy and when he talks to Maddie about Abby and being left behind right after. Also when he's hiding in Eddie's place so he won't have to talk to Taylor.

I don't know about yall but I feel like this does establish a pattern of him wearing green while doing misguided stuff in his chase of his idea of romantic love.

But I have more points if you're not convinced yet.

We established that he wears a lot of red and that the thing with complementary colors is contrast, right? I'm not gonna sit here and tell you that there's a set pattern on when he wears red because he wears red in multiple circumstances, but I will tell you a few scenes that back me up.

Because baby boy is wearing red when he finally lets go of Abby, on both occasions, and when he's literally talking to Maddie about what love really means leading to him finally making the right choice to stop hanging on to Taylor.

He wears red when he finally does the right thing when it comes to love and he wears green when he's trying to convince himself he's doing the right thing. Contrast.

This show is crazy. Insane. Absolute madness.

Edit:

Okay, extra point here. I went against adding this particular scene because I legit can't tell if his shirt is green or blue here. But I got a reply here and decided to check.

so it went to color-hex to try and determine it, well, this is definitely a shade of green. I actually made a whole pallete of his shirt. This is definitely green.

So another point to team he does misguided shit on his quest for love in green clothing because this is the scene where he's telling Maddie about Abby and Maddie is telling him that she's bagging other guys but he chooses to ignore it.

Am i crazy? probably. But what's that thing once is a chance twice is a coincidence and three is a pattern? Thats 4 scenes with the green and him doing stupid shit in the name of love.

#911 meta #911 #thoughts thoughts thoughts #i feel kinda crazy sokasokasokasoka #no hinges left #but it makes sense #it does

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elliespassagerprincess · 5 months

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I hardly seen any love for Dina can you maybe do one her shy x popular trope

One chance - (popular!dina x shy!reader)

hi anon, firstly real! we need more Dina fics! I'm sorry if this sucks I struggle with writing fluff lmao, but i hope you enjoy :)

Pairing: dina x fem!reader

requests are open! send me your silly thoughts:)

warnings: none

Summary: In which the popular girl asked you out

authors note: on a serious note we need more dina fics, she's sooooo fine but so underrated and it's so sad

masterlist

"Earth to Dina"

"huh?"

"Dina are you ok?" Ellie asked concerned at her friends spaced out expression.

"I'm fine"

no she wasn't.

Dina was not fine.

She was fucking fuming. Why? Because you were giving someone else attention.

Dina had always wanted to be a cheerleader. Ever since she was a little girl, she watched countless videos on YouTube for cheer routines, and she memorized them all.

As soon as she became a freshman in high-school she immediately auditioned, and as if god was on her side she became the caption and she stayed the caption up until her senior year.

She fucking loved to cheer.

The makeup, the routines, the crowd screaming for them.

For her.

God she loved it all the attention. She loved all the people around her, people praising her, and telling her that she did a good job.

Dina was the classic popular girl and as cliché as it was, this was who she was and she loved every fucking second of it.

It was like no other day.

She stood at the entrance of the field, watching the football teams run out.

She observed the other cheer teams standing next to hers, they were pretty, but surely they weren't as talented.

The whistle blew and a grin spread on to Dina's face, as she jogged out the massive doors, her squad running behind her.

The crowd cheered as the girls came out, and Dina proudly raised her pompoms, shaking them slightly.

Her gaze fell onto the crowd, as she tried spotting people wearing the schools colors but her eyes fell on you.

woah.

She's never seen you before.

Holy fucking shit.

For the rest of the night, Dina's eyes lingered on you.

Every time they had to perform, she always kept and eye on you, hoping you'd make eye contact.

You never looked her way.

You wanted to but you were scared.

You'd only join the school a month ago and you remembered on your first day of school, you saw her.

The pretty girl with the dark hair.

That's what you called her until you were told her name was Dina.

Dina. Dina. Dina. Dina Dina.

She was all you could think about.

Everywhere you went there was a reminder of Dina.

You saw a bow? Dina wears bows.

You saw someone wearing blue? Dina always wears blue converse.

You wanted to talk to her so fucking bad, but you couldn't. Every time you got close to her it felt like you were going to piss yourself.

You made her a paper flower one day, hoping you'd be able to give it to her. You'd hype up yourself in the mirror but as soon as you saw her, the confidence you once felt fell away.

"C'mon lets go" your friend Abby begged. She'd been asking you to the football game all week but you weren't in the mood for the loud crowds and all the screaming.

"let me stay home dude" you replied

"Dina will be there"

That's all you needed to hear. You raced to get ready, and you put on a orange jumper hoping the bright color might catch Dina's attention.

You sat on the field with hundreds of other people, you anxiously waited for her, you realized that her seeing you would be unlikely due to the amount of people that filled the seats.

All you remember was the crowd cheering and Dina jogging out, wearing her blue converse. There was a grin on her face as her team followed her and she looked fucking perfect.

As hard as you tried not to look at her you couldn't help it.

She stood in front so obviously you were gonna look at her.

She performed with so much confidence, with so much grace. You could truly look at her forever.

When the game came to an end her squad asked if she wanted to go out with them, but Dina kindly declined because she had other plans.

She had to talk to this pretty girl that distracted her throughout the whole game.

Dina walked through the crowd, trying to avoid all the people who were trying to talk to her.

She was growing frustrated. Where the fuck were you?

Just as she was about to lose hope, she spotted your orange jumper. You stood on the side of the road talking on your phone. Dina slowly walked towards you and she didn't mean to listen to your conversation but she did.

"Abby i swear to god if you don't come pick me up in 5 minutes I'm going to kill you"

Dina softly giggled at how overdramatic you were. You put your phone into your pocket on you sighed.

Dina could walk away right now, she could turn away and you would never have to know about this.

Fuck it. Dina wasn't a pussy.

She tapped you on shoulder, and you turned around. Your eyes met with the girl you've been silently in love with for the last month.

Fuck.

"Hi" Dina started, giving you her charming smile.

Your mouth went dry and you felt so fucking nervous. She could probably see how you were shaking.

"Hi" you replied meeting her gaze shyly.

"Well I'm Dina and i just wanted to say you're really pretty and i was wondering if i could have your number?"

You wanted to pinch yourself. Is this even real? Was this a prank?

"yeah" was all you said without looking at her. You watched Dina reach into her bag to pull out her phone, and she silently watched as you put in your number.

"You don't talk much do you?" She laughed awkwardly as she took her phone from your hand.

"Yeah" was all you said.

Dina didn't text you. Its been 2 weeks.

Its not that she didn't want to, but she was terrified.

You barely spoke to her that night, who says you'll even text her back?

You on the other hand saw the situation differently. You thought she was taking you for a fool. Someone like Dina would never just ask for your number.

As the weeks went by you and Dina make eye contact, she would give you a small smile and you would just walk away with a nod. You'd make no effort to talk to her because she made you so fucking nervous.

Dina hated this. She hated that she wanted someone that can barley look at her. But here she was getting mad at you for talking to someone else.

Some blonde bitch sat with you and you acted so differently. You laughed, you fucking smiled and showed emotion, but when Dina was around you barely uttered a word to her.

You drove her insane.

"Dude why are you fucking lying?"

"what?" Dina asked.

She actually forgot Ellie was sitting here.

"You keep looking at her and Abby"

so that's what her name was.

"What's your deal with them?" Ellie persisted.

She might as well admit it.

"She isn't the problem, Abby is"

Ellies gaze fell to you and Abby for a while before it all clicked.

"Dude are you jealous? do you have a fucking crush on her or something?"

"Yeah" Dina admitted "but I don't know anything about her, i tried talking to her, but she doesn't say much"

Dina quickly glazed to you before she groaned in frustration

"she doesn't" Ellie confirmed.

"She only talks to Abby, she's quite shy in my opinion"

shy is an understatement.

Dina was losing her mind. Every time she sees you and Abby together she feels sick. But at the same time she's too pussy to talk to you or to even text you.

Dina could perform in front of thousands of people without batting an eye but she could barley say hi to you.

You were fucking breaking her.

Dina went to an empty classroom to let off some steam and to her surprise you sat there.

"Hi" Dina said in amazement.

"Hi" you responded looking everywhere in the room but her.

'just fucking look at me' Dina thought to herself.

"What are you doing here?" She asked you.

"Abby isn't here today, i didn't feel like sitting alone"

Dina's fist clenched tightly at the mention of Abby.

"Can i ask you something?" Dina randomly asked, after staring at you for a while.

"yeah"

"why don't you want me?"

"What?"

Dina dropped her backpack and she made her way towards you: "like you- fuck- why don't you look at me? I always look at you"

You wanted to run out the room, this was all happening too fast. "Dina-"

"no listen, i know nothing about you but you seem like a really sweet girl, please just one chance" she begged.

You would give her a million chances.

"Yeah..." you started, you looked around the room one last time before you finally made eye contact with Dina.

"so are you gonna take me on a date?" You smiled at her shyly.

Dina chucked and she responded with one word: "yeah"

#dina tlou #dina woodward #ellie and dina #the last of us game #tlou 2 #dina the last of us #dina nolastname #ellie williams #dina fanart #ellie x dina #the last of us 2 #the last of us #tlou #tlouedit #the last of us part ii #the last of us part 2 #dina #dina x ellie

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matchamilkislover · 4 months

Text

White Horse, 1. (a.a.)

pairing: knight!abby x princess!reader

cw: fantasy!au, fem!reader, eventual displays of fighting and violence bc it’s fantasy, kind of slow burn?, tension, reader has an attitude, tall af!abby bc size difference, royalty!au, mentions of arranged marriages, some mentions of au politics, abby in armor is a warning in itself

synopsis: you are the youngest princess of the royal family that rules over your kingdom, Aphrynia. now a young adult, you’ve come of age in a tense time, and your personal protection is of utmost importance — which is why the resignation of your previous personal knight means a rushed reassignment ceremony with little to no preface. That being said, why does the name of your new knight sound so familiar?

word count: 2.8k

a/n: this is gonna be so trope-heavy and romantic and cheesy and i don’t even care i’ve been giggling and kicking my feet this whole time

⊹ ⋆｡˚ ————————— 𓆩♡𓆪 —————————⊹ ⋆｡˚

“Princess, you really do need to get up.”

You groaned, rolling over in your excessively comfortable bed as your lady’s maid, Nina, started forcefully pulling the many blankets you had covering you off. Your proper mind knew that she was right, that you needed to get ready, but the pounding in your head begged otherwise; and right now, the pounding side was winning. You tried to sit up and open your eyes, but the bright sunlight instantly blinded you, causing you to groan and fall back again. Nina sighed.

“Either you get up, or I’m calling George and he can drag you out himself.”

That made you sit up. You’d had enough of your second eldest brother ripping you out of bed throughout your childhood to last a lifetime. Your legs already felt a phantom soreness at just the thought.

“Okay, okay, I surrender, I’m up…” you grumbled, swinging your legs over the edge of the mattress and tenderly standing on the cold floor. Nina rolled her eyes as she started gathering materials for you to bathe.

“I told you to ease up on the wine last night,” she scolded as you started shedding your nightclothes and trudged to your washroom.

You rolled your eyes in response and yawned. “Don’t judge me! You would let loose a little too if you knew it was your last night before getting assigned another overbearing knight,” you replied dramatically. These were the times that you both loved and resented that you and Nina had known each other since childhood; sometimes she knew you a little too well. Nina just chuckled and followed you.

A while later, you were clean and dry. And cold. You shivered as Nina helped you slip layer after layer of your intricate clothing on your body. “Why is it so frigid in here this morning? I can literally hear the fire going,” you whined as another shiver made your arms shake. Nina shrugged as she picked up another layer.

“The mornings have been getting colder lately,” Nina remarked thoughtfully. “Perhaps an off the shoulder dress wasn’t the best decision the seamstress could’ve made for today’s gown.” She grimaced as she eyed the off the shoulder masterpiece waiting to be adorned.

Your pout spoke for you. Even so, you had to admit the gown was rather lovely. The gauzy pink seemed to shimmer in the light, and you couldn’t help but stare at it in the mirror once you had finally put it on. Nina, however, still anxiously watched the time and rushed to finish getting you ready.

For whatever reason, one you weren’t exactly keen on understanding, being assigned a personal knight was something of a ceremony in the royal family, and was therefore to be treated as such. And ever since your former knight, Mattheo, had resigned not even a fortnight ago to wed and begin a life outside of his knighthood, you had been assigned a rotation of lower knights while a replacement was decided on. While you couldn’t blame Mattheo for wanting to have a different life and a family, you couldn’t help but resent his leaving just a little bit; he had been your personal knight since you were young, and you had grown to trust him like an uncle or a father. Whatever young, overconfident knight you would be assigned now would not be nearly as tolerable, of that you were certain.

Nina’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts and reawakened the pounding in your head. “Princess? Princess, we’ve got to go,” she harped, placing a guiding hand on your back. “Wouldn’t want to keep everyone waiting.” You nodded in agreement and started walking, trying your best to hide the grimace pulling at your face.

You could barely keep up with Nina’s quick steps as you navigated the corridors of the palace, your shoes clicking on the polished stone floors. “Nina,” you muttered through panting breaths, “You know you can slow down a little bit, right? It really isn’t that serious,” you pointed out. Nina shook her head.

“Sorry, princess, but I’m under strict orders to get you there on time. Promised the queen,” she replied with a wink sent your way. Your mouth gaped while your brows furrowed.

“Seriously? For a knight assignment? The fuck…” you muttered back, still grumpy from your hangover and unending headache. Nina clicked her tongue at you in disapproval.

“Princess! Language!” she scolded, holding back a giggle and not quite managing to suppress a tickled smile. You made an amused face in response and you both had to struggle to hold down your laughs as you passed knights and members of the court in the long corridors.

As you finally turned onto the corridor leading to the throne room, Nina cleared her throat to get your attention. “Please try your best not to seem hungover, princess,” she muttered through clenched teeth, “lest the queen come for my head.” You both stifled one last giggle before the doors to the throne room opened, and your arrival was announced to the small crowd standing inside.

You took a steadying breath, blanking your face as you delicately walked forward, desperately hiding your fight not to wobble in these godforsaken shoes. You kept your gaze steady on the front of the room, not wanting to risk an offhand glance at the crowd interrupting your focus.

You breathed a quiet sigh of relief when you reached the front and stood in place amongst your siblings, ignoring George’s knowing smirk and Elyssa’s disapproving look. Like always, your eldest brother, Philip, stayed as stone-faced as ever, and Henry, the fourth sibling, gave his best attempt at matching Philip’s ever-serious mood. Although he was closest to you in age, only being 18 months older, the two of you couldn’t be more different. He never seemed to possess the itch for mischief and adventure that you did, and instead followed your eldest brother like a puppy and tried to copy his every trait. You suppressed the urge to roll your eyes and turned towards the rest of the room.

Glancing at you to acknowledge your arrival, your parents rose as one, and your mother’s voice rang out in the spacious throne room. “Welcome, esteemed guests and friends, as we conduct our youngest daughter’s knight reassignment ceremony on this lovely morning. As many of us know, our youngest has quite the…lively spirit, and as she reaches marrying age, we’ve found it impertinent that we find a unique knight to ensure her safety amidst the happenings of that lively spirit.” A soft chuckle carried through the room, and you had to suppress another eye roll as your mother – the “ever-esteemed” queen – basically called you a burden who needed watching. Great. Exactly what you needed this morning.

Your mother continued her speech. “While the knight we’ve chosen for her assignment may not have the age to match her rank, her experience and accomplishments make her quite the perfect match to guard our lovely daughter. Thus, Knight Anderson, will you please approach?”

Your mind came to a sudden stop. ‘Her’? Your new knight was to be a female knight? Well that certainly makes things more interesting. And her name…Anderson. It sounded oddly familiar, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. A young female knight, a respected, high-ranking one at that, was to be Mattheo’s replacement? Certainly she wouldn’t be quite as easy to slip past. But you had gotten creative over the years…

Your racing thoughts mixed with your eyes searching the crowd for this ‘Knight Anderson’, but came to a sudden halt when the knight finally stepped through to the front of the crowd, and the sight of her left your mouth hanging ever so slightly ajar. Although it had certainly matured since the last time you saw her, you would recognize that face anywhere.

9 YEARS AGO

Abigail Anderson was going to be the death of you. No matter where you went, she was somehow there, ready to show off and drive you up the fucking wall. Since her father was the royal family’s physician and a childhood friend of your father, and the two of you were so close in age, the two of you had been shoved together since you could read, and you couldn’t resent it more. She never failed to take an opportunity to prove herself against you; whether it was her intelligence in tutoring sessions, or showing off her strength and size outdoors while exploring or riding, if the chance was there, she took it.

You were both twelve, and while you were able to spend more time apart, tutoring and riding lessons were still spent together. You had started spending your free time with the daughters of the court members, while Abby spent her time training for knighthood or whatever it was that motivated her to sweat in a dirty training ground for hours a day. It wasn’t like you paid it too much regard; you were perfectly happy spending tea with your friends that you could actually relate to before retreating to the palace library to spend afternoons reading and exploring different worlds.

On one sunny spring day, Abby had shown up late to your joint riding lesson, and you were already annoyed since George had ruined your favorite riding boots by dropping them in a boiling, soapy wash basin while the maids weren’t looking, only for them to be found hours later and sorrowfully returned to your chambers. The twat. So when she came jogging up to the stables, your glare was already set upon her, and she preemptively rolled her eyes.

“I know, I know, training went over,” she retorted to your glare in an annoyed voice, raising her hands apologetically at your instructor.

You continued glaring as she saddled her horse and mounted the steed, flipping her braid behind her shoulder. Sensing the tension and not wanting to be a part of it, the instructor casually instructed the two of you to take a simple ride through the naturalistic grounds surrounding the palace during your normal lesson time. You nodded curtly and took off in a simple trot, Abby quickly following and settling into a matching trot beside you.

“Heard about what happened to your boots,” she remarked casually, not even glancing your way. But you knew what she was doing, and you already weren’t in the mood for it. She kept pushing anyway.

“What a waste,” she continued, clicking her tongue. “You poor thing, how will you ever survive?” You could feel her smirk without looking. Trying to be the bigger person, you only sighed and kept ignoring her.

She laughed. “What, don’t want to admit that you’re upset over a pair of boots? It’s okay, you are a princess, after all.” Even though she was right, it wasn’t like you wanted to admit it to Abby, of all people. You really liked those boots! Princess or not, you were allowed to be upset about it! You could say that, but it’s not like Abby would care. She’d just keep teasing you about the boots, or poking you about some other stupid thing that was sure to push your buttons. So you kept your head straight forward and kept riding. She wasn’t satisfied.

“Too good to talk to me now, are you? You’d rather be at a prissy tea party with your prissy friends?” she said, mocking a posh accent and expression as she spoke. And you just snapped.

“You know what Abby, just because you don’t like me or think I’m shallow or spoiled for whatever reason, that doesn’t mean you have to go after my friends too! You don’t even know them! You know, I don’t think you even know me like you think you do, so why don’t you just shut up already,” you exploded, taking off on your horse like a bullet and leaving Abby shouting after you in the dust. You heard her call your name after you a few times, but you ignored her, clenching your teeth as your resolve hardened and you quickened your pace even more.

By the time Abby started galloping after you, you were too far ahead to hear her. You just kept riding and riding, not stopping until you reached the creek that bubbled along one of the far edges of the palace grounds. Hopping off your horse, you gently smoothed the mare’s chestnut hair as you watched the clear water run up and over the rocks in the creek. Remembering what Abby had said, you clenched your other fist and loudly groaned in frustration, holding back the urge to go as far as to stomp on the ground.

You took a deep breath to steel yourself as you heard hooves approaching quickly from behind you. Abby called your name again, but you barely even turned your head, fist still clenched. She scoffed and dismounted, walking up to you casually.

“You know you can’t ride off like that,” she remarked. You continued to ignore her. “C’mon, you know I didn’t mean it like that,” she continued, leaning to try to get in your line of sight.

You only scoffed in reply and turned away, speed walking along the creek bed. Abby kept following you, reaching out to grab your arm once she was close enough. You gasped angrily and whipped around, hair slinging from side to side. You tried to pull away, but her grip was tight. And you panicked. No one had ever grabbed you like that, and you were so shocked, you couldn’t help but go into panic mode.

“Will you– let go– get your hands OFF of me–” you shrieked, starting to flail and struggle in her grasp. Abby also began to panic in response to you, and before you knew it, you were slipping on the creek bed, and the two of you tumbled into the creek, a tangle of limbs and shocked exclamations as you fell into the surprisingly icy water.

As soon as you hit the water, you gasped, inhaling water instead of air and immediately choking. You floundered, desperately coughing and trying to eject the water from your lungs. Finally, your flailing arms found a large rock to land on, and you started pulling yourself out of the water. At the same time, you could hear Abby climbing the water as well, and you got distracted, your hand slipping as you crashed back down into the creek. Another breath of water infiltrated your mouth and throat, and you continued to choke and cough, unable to gain enough footing to grab back onto the rock. Finally, a pair of stronger arms latched onto your own, stopping your flailing to pull you out of the water and onto the creek bed.

Flopping onto the ground, you coughed out the remaining water from your lungs until you could finally take clear breaths, anger returning with the consistent oxygen. You shot up suddenly, cutting Abby off as she opened her mouth to ask if you were okay. “You are despicable, Abby Anderson! Despicable!” You shouted as you pushed hair out of your face and straightened your soaking clothes. “I am leaving. You need to give me time to return my horse and escort myself inside, lest I see your despicable face and decide to strangle you once and for all!” You continued as you mounted your horse, giving her one last dirty look before riding off as fast as you could.

It wasn’t until the next morning when Abby wasn’t present at your lessons that you discovered that she had left for official training. And no matter how angry you were at her, you couldn’t help but be at least a bit disappointed that she hadn’t said goodbye.

THE PRESENT

Your mother’s voice was all but muted background in your head as you watched Abby – apparently now known as ‘Knight Anderson’ – approach you and your family at the front of the throne room. A lump settled in your throat, and your mouth felt impossibly dry watching her armored form get closer and closer. You barely registered your mother reciting practiced phrases as Abby knelt in front of her and bowed her head towards the queen. It was like you were outside your body, watching everything happen, only an observer as Abby stood and she and your mother approached you. You were sucked back into your body as Abby knelt in front of you, taking one of your polished hands in hers and bowing her head towards it.

“Knight Abigail Anderson,” your mother began, her voice confident and steady in contrast to the nerves that rocked your body, leaving you lightheaded. “Do you solemnly vow to dedicate your life to the protection and safety of the princess?” Abby looked up at you through her lashes, and you felt like you could faint.

“I do.”

#abby anderson #knight!abby x princess!reader #knight x princess #abby x reader #abby tlou #abby fic #fantasy!au #royalty!au #princess!au #knight!au #wlw #lesbian knight #lesbian princess #matchamilkislover

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glorious-spoon · 4 days

Text

your way or nothing at all [9-1-1 | Eddie Diaz | 1/1]

In the quieting dark, Eddie lingers by the tables, the empty chairs pushed together in a cluster for a conversation long since abandoned. It's late enough that people are starting to filter out into the night, and pretty much everybody left is crowded at the open bar or swaying on the dance floor. At the high table, Maddie has Buck's suit jacket draped over her shoulders and her cheek tipped against Chim's shoulder, and he's looking down at her with a dopily besotted expression that Eddie can clock even from here.

It makes him feel like—something, some kind of nostalgia for the wedding he never got to have with Shannon. That whole day felt like being hustled through a play that he never learned his lines to. Shannon was three months pregnant and deep in the throes of vicious morning sickness that was not improved by the catering or the stress of the day, so he spent their wedding night holding back her hair in the honeymoon suite his parents paid for and trying desperately to feel like he had a single fucking clue what he was doing. Trying to feel like a man and a husband and a father-to-be and mostly feeling like a complete fraud.

They deserved better. Both of them. Now, in this moment, after this day, it soothes more than it stings to watch Maddie and Chim hold onto each other so easily.

The song changes, and he watches a swirl of motion on the bar side of the dance floor, the particular energy that's easily identifiable as Buck even before he emerges from the crowd. Normally, maybe Eddie would gravitate in, but Buck's got a hand linked together with Tommy's, and they're laughing, and so he stays where he is. Just watches.

It's sweet, a little fumbling as Buck very obviously tries to figure out the logistics of slow-dancing with another guy. Tommy says something in a low voice and settles a palm on his hip, and Buck ducks his head, laughing, and leans into him.

It's sweet. It is. Eddie's throat fucking aches.

He doesn't know why, not really. Maybe it's the smile on Buck's face, wide and giddy and almost embarrassingly bright. He never smiled at Natalia like that, or Taylor. Maybe Ali, but the truth is that back then Eddie wasn't looking for it. Back then, he was so caught up in everything with Shannon, and he and Buck were barely more than friendly coworkers, as strange as that idea seems now.

He probably smiled at Abby like that. Eddie wasn't around for that relationship, only the aftermath, but he can imagine it. You don't hurt that badly when someone leaves you unless you really fucking loved them.

"You would not believe the line for the bathroom," Marisol says from behind him, and Eddie jolts like he just grabbed a high-voltage wire. He tries to spin it into something graceful as he turns to face her, but he's pretty sure it doesn't work, and also pretty sure that he shouldn't be feeling quite so jumpscared at the sight of his girlfriend. His heart is pounding. He rubs his knuckles against his sternum, and Marisol asks, "You okay?"

"Yeah," he says. "Sorry. You startled me."

"No, it's fine." She smiles at him, and it's pretty. She looks pretty, in a blue dress that looks black in this light, little metallic threads picked through and glittering. It hugs the curves of her body in a way that Eddie feels obligated to notice, and so he does, and when he looks her in the eye again she's smiling wider, and that's pretty too and Eddie—

Eddie still feels like a fucking fraud.

"I got you a beer," Marisol says. She's got a glass of wine in her other hand. White wine, lipstick marks on the rim.

Eddie smiles back and takes the bottle she hands him. "Thanks."

"I wasn't sure what you'd want." She grins at him, flirty. "You'll have to tell me if I made a bad guess."

He sips the beer. It's a lager, hoppy and astringent in a way that leaves a bitter aftertaste on his tongue. He takes another drink and smiles around the grimace his mouth wants to make. "It's perfect. Thank you."

The pleased relief in her smile doesn't make the lie feel any better. He takes another sip and sets the bottle down, and Marisol settles her hip against his chair, close enough that he can feel the warmth of her body. Close enough that he could wrap an arm around her thighs and pull her into his lap, if he wanted to do that. He shifts forward instead, leaning his elbows against the table, and she lets out a quiet sound and sets her glass down to sit in the chair next to him. The music switches over from Christina Perri to what Eddie is pretty sure is Savage Garden, and on the dance floor Tommy says something that makes Buck laugh and pull him closer.

"They're cute together," Marisol observes. "Buck and, um… Tommy?"

Eddie's fingers twitch on his beer bottle. "Yeah."

"I didn't know that he was, you know…" she trails off. Eddie looks over at her, and she adds, "Not that there's anything wrong with it! I just, I thought he had a girlfriend."

"They broke up. He dates guys too," Eddie says, more emphatically than is really necessary. Like this is a truth that he's always known instead of something Buck told him two weeks ago in the loft, quiet and careful like he was afraid of how Eddie would react. Like he was afraid of Eddie.

It was a date, we were on a date.

So it's new for Buck, too. Not just him. But still.

It feels like something he should have known.

"Okay," Marisol says. The corners of her mouth tighten, and she takes a pointed sip of her wine. "I didn't know that, is all."

I didn't know either, Eddie imagines saying, but the words strangle themselves in his throat just the same as, Actually, I don't like lagers, and, I don't really want company tonight, did. He wonders how the hell Buck does it—just opens his mouth and lets the truth spill out. Eddie can only manage that when it's for other people. Never for himself.

"Sorry," he says out loud. "It's been… a day."

Marisol's face softens a little, and he feels like shit about that, too. It has been a day, is the thing. He woke up in a bathtub, more hungover than he's been in at least a decade, and after that was a wild goose-chase through the desert to retrieve Chim in time for the wedding, and all that is plenty of reason for him to be off his game now. It's just that somehow it also feels like a fucking lie.

On the dance floor, Buck has his cheek pressed to Tommy's. He says something, and Tommy's shoulders shake with laughter, and then they both turn, moving easily together into a kiss. It's quick and tender, and Eddie abruptly feels like the worst kind of voyeur for watching it happen. He turns his head away and finds Marisol looking at him.

The music changes again. TLC, he's pretty sure, because Chim is deep down a very basic Gen X music kind of guy. Or maybe it was Maddie's pick, who knows. Anyway. It's a little more upbeat, but still slow enough to dance to.

"You, uh." He clears his throat, and finds a smile that feels almost right. "Come on, you wanna dance before they close it all down? They're playing our song."

"This is our song?" Marisol asks, but she's laughing. "I don't even think I was born yet when it came out."

Eddie shrugs and holds out a hand. "It could be our song. Maybe for tonight it's just a good song to dance to."

That must have been the right thing to say. She smiles, sets her wine down, and slips her hand into his, letting him tug her to her feet. They wind their way through the chairs to the dance floor, and under the string lights she settles easily into his arms.

I know you're gonna have it your way or nothing at all, rasps the singer in a sweetly smoky voice, as Eddie closes his eyes, and sways, and breathes, but I think you're moving too fast.

I think you're moving too fast.

He breathes in, and out, and opens his eyes. Marisol smiles up at him, and he smiles back, then cuts his eyes away. There are still a handful of people left on the dance floor with them: Athena and Bobby, swaying together like they're in their own little world, a couple of Buckley cousins with their dates. Buck and Tommy are gone, though, and Eddie almost cranes his head through the crowd to see where they got to before he catches himself.

"To tell you the truth," Marisol says. "I really don't think this is our song."

"Alright, well, we can find another one," Eddie says, and she laughs and sways into him, and he holds onto her, and when he closes his eyes, it's fine; it all feels fine.

#911 #911 fic #eddie diaz #buddie #bucktommy #my fic #i actually have no idea how to tag this pairing-wise lol #it is somehow both all and none of the above

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