#rhysrequest

The speakers blasted, the bass thumping against the walls like a rabbit’s foot tapping anxiously. Lyrics were being yelled back at them, a sea of faceless bodies moving carelessly, lost in the music. Two weeks into tour, unfamiliar cities and strange smells were nothing new to the three on the shining stage above. They were beautiful in their own ways—like a sunset, a rose, the ocean’s waves. Not comparable.

So a few weeks ago, you thought, Why have one when I can have all three?

Exploring their different talents had been… fun. Then, Vi was the first to notice.

She had shown up that night thinking you were there for her, but that assumption wavered when she caught Ellie shooting you a small wave from stage left—and worse, you waving back. Her smile faltered for a fraction of a second before she forced herself to shake it off. Maybe Ellie just misread it. She let it go. Focused on the music.

Until it came right back hours later, when the venue had emptied, their voices hoarse, shoulders sore, adrenaline fading into exhaustion.

Ellie, scrolling through her phone as she leaned against one of the amps, suddenly let out a low whistle. “Goddamn,” she muttered. “I fumbled.”

Vi, midway through peeling the label off her beer, looked up. “Huh?”

Ellie turned her phone around, showing the screen. It was a picture of you. a clear thirst trap, captioned: “Had to make a pit stop in Cali—miss me?”

Vi nearly dropped the glass in her hand. The odd moment from hours ago resurfacing. She jerked forward, snatching the phone out of Ellie’s hand. “You fumbled her?” Her eyes glued to the image.

Ellie glared at her. “Okay, rude.”

But Vi wasn’t listening. She was too busy swiping through your profile, her expression shifting to pure disbelief. How could she have missed it? At the bottom of your page—

‘Followed by sixstringbandit, bassknuckles, drum_warrior, and others.’

“I—hold on. Hold on.” Vi suddenly looked up, eyes sharp. “You’re saying you hooked up with her?”

Abby, who had been tossing a drumstick between her hands, stopped mid-motion. She leaned over to see what had their attention. Her brows furrowed.

“…Wait. Her?”

Ellie tilted her head. “What, you know her too?”

The realization poured over the three like ice. Abby spoke up first, mostly to herself. “Oh, gross. I’m getting tested.” Her nose wrinkled like she was physically pained by the mental image of you with her bandmates.

“Tested? Excuse me? I’m clean—” Vi swung her head to her left, a little offended.

“So am I—” Ellie sighed.

However, Her comment stuck out like a sore thumb, causing Vi to shoot Abby a look. Ellie lifted her head at that. The silence between the two was too telling.

“What! You guys don’t think I—” Ellie stammered, the words suddenly feeling too thick. Fingers tugging on the guitar pick necklace around her neck.

“Well, did you..?” Abby asked, crossing her arms.

“No—like almost…” Ellie ran a hand down her face, her cheeks flushing pink.

“See.”

“Pause. How do you ‘almost’ fuck someone?” Vi asked, raising a brow.

“Oh my gosh, screw both of you.” Ellie rolled her eyes and stood up, flashing them both the middle finger for emphasis before stomping onto the tour bus.

The murmur of traffic echoed in the distance. Abby ran a hand through her golden hair, rolling her shoulders. Her colliding thoughts were interrupted by a playful whisper.

“Ten bucks she texts me back faster,” Vi dragged out, a shit-eating grin spreading across her face. “You know she always liked my hands.”

The eye contact held for half a second before Abby was moving.

With a small shove to Vi’s tattooed shoulder—just enough to throw her off, Abby took the head start onto the bus.

“Cheap shot!” Vi laughed, right on her heels.

The doors creaked as they closed behind them.

Ellie! who shows off smoke tricks she learned out of sheer boredom. Everything goes smoothly until she tries to show off a new trick, only to end up in a coughing fit. She dramatically has to redeem herself afterward, pulling you close for a victory kiss once she’s recovered. And pumped her fist to congratulate herself. Suchhh a dork.

Ellie! whose spam account username is ‘@/elliesaur,’ and her profile picture is of one of the cute little Dino figurines you gave her. She’s low-key obsessed with them.

Ellie! who During a makeout session, will suddenly pull away, and rushes to turn your plushies around, convinced they’ve been silently watching. It’s too much for them, apparently.

Ellie! who drags you along for her tattoo appointments. She squeezes your hand so tight during the session that your fingers go numb, but after, she’s all casual, saying she “totally handled it” like a champ while you know she was definitely whimpering into your shoulder.

Abby

Abby! who always tries to act tough, but when she’s with you, she lets her guard down, turning into this goofy, cuddly mess who insists on carrying you around “just because she can.”

Abby! who has a habit of secretly spoiling you, always sneaking in little surprises, like your favorite snacks or a small gift after a long day. It’s always a reminder that she’s thinking of you.

Abby! who is way too competitive but in a fun way. Whether it’s a video game, a race, or who can lift more weights, she makes it a mission to beat you, but there’s always a HUGE grin after she wins or loses.

Abby! who when she finally gets you to do a workout with her, tries her hardest not to laugh when you struggle to keep up. But the moment you give up, she’s the first to give you a pep talk.

Abby! was a bit inexperienced with women, and you had to fake an orgasm just once before dating because she hadn’t been with anyone else. Now, she’s learned the ropes and you never had to do it again. but it’s your secret, one that you’d never tell her.

Abby! who has an endless list of corny, sometimes embarrassing pet names for you.

Abby! who dropped you once when carrying you, and it’s still a running joke. No matter how much time passes, she’ll bring it up at the worst possible times. One night, when things started getting a bit too heated, she pulled away and asked if you were still mad about it…mind you, it was months ago.

Bonus: how they would react to a “I miss you” text with a little something extra!

You wanted to go home, wash your makeup off, and throw yourself on your sheets. Yet here you sat, in the middle of a frat party. You hated events like these, especially sober. The booming bass in your ears, the humid, almost sticky air on your skin. The way-too-bright lights and, worse, the students falling over each other. Why do you let your friends drag you along? No clue. But as part of the cheer team, skipping meant endless nagging in the group chat, and you weren’t in the mood for that. You never were.

After settling into the living room, you figured a joint would help you zone out until, Dina, and the rest of your ride were ready to leave. At some point in the night, you found yourself face to face with a semi-familiar presence: campuses one and only Abby Anderson.

She’d been throwing looks your way all night. You knew her type. Kissing and quitting. And you weren’t interested. But Abby found her way onto the couch next to you, striking up conversation like it was effortless. Of course it was calculated, but you indulged her, partly anyway.

At least you didn’t want to be anyway.

𖤐.Unbeknownst to you, though, you were judging this 6’0-something book by her cover. If you’d really been paying attention, which is impossible to do considering how well she covered it up. But The gym, practice, study, sleep cycle kept her sane, gave her something to focus on. And it worked, until you. Until freshman move-in day, when she saw you for the first time and brushed it off as just another pretty girl on campus. But then she found herself lingering on your social media, scrolling a little too long, just…staring at certain pictures. And when she saw some of her teammates following you, her upper lip twitched in irritation.

𖤐.She avoided you after that. Acted like you didn’t exist, because it was easier than dealing with the way you made her heart hammer against her ribs. The way she wanted you. The way you got under her skin without even trying. But when she saw you tonight, she told herself fuck it. If you weren’t going to make a move, she would.

A few jokes exchanged, a couple of lingering glances, and then, somehow her fingers found their way under your chin, tilting your face toward hers. Your breath caught. Her grip was firm but gentle enough for you to wiggle away from, almost like she was seeing what you’d do.

She was close. Inches away. Heat radiating off her body. So close that you could see the defined collarbones peeking through the neckline of her jersey. Her gaze dragged over your features like she was committing them to memory, and when her blue eyes finally locked onto yours. You weren’t one to look away from eye contact easily, but this was like she was trying to find something.

The music pulsed around you, shifting into something by The Weeknd. Which was definitely not helping. The slower beat only made time stand still. You didn’t move. Why would you? She came over here, convinced you’d fold like every other girl who fell at her size 10 cleats.

But you weren’t going to. You couldn’t.

You were almost certain, though, that if she closed the gap, you’d 100% kiss her back. And that? That would be a problem. If she closed the distance you’d definitely tug her closer until the only thing you could smell was her. So instead, you rolled your eyes and leaned back, your hair spraying on the sofa. breaking the moment.

“You are such a pain in the ass,” Abby chuckled, her ego slightly bruised as her hand dropped from your chin. A dramatic lip smack followed.

“Because I don’t want to fuck you?” you said, taking a slow drag from your joint. “Or because I’m not entertaining you?”

“Shit, both.” She shrugged. She slapped herself mentally for not saying a different answer. She knew she was coming on way too strong but she knew nothing about you, and now was worried she wasn’t even your type to begin with. So now she had to double down.

“Especially the first one, though,” she added, dragging her eyes down your outfit before flicking back up to your face.

“Gross,” you scoffed, even though you definitely had the idea cross your mind once while she was sitting so close.

“Oh, you have no idea,” Abby huffed, tossing her head back against the couch. She let a beat of silence pass before turning to you again. “What’s your deal, anyway? You a prude? Or just straight?”

“What if I’m just not interested?” you shot back.

Her lips twitched, head tilting slightly as she studied you “You aren’t?” Something about the way she asked made your heart thud. Like you’d just challenged her. Or maybe, maybe you’d actually caught her off guard. Regardless You didn’t answer fast enough. Her grin widened, teeth showing, like she was reading your mind. Shit. Are you? No. No, of course you weren’t. But yeah, you’d let the silence stretch too long.

Abby hummed, turning her head back to the front. “Sure you aren’t,” she mused. Praying you’d correct her. Feeling her heart sink a little when it didn’t come. You were still trying to find a reply when Abby interrupted, almost like she couldn’t bear the silence.

“So,” she said, her voice still infuriatingly calm, “What’s your major? Or are you just here to shake your little pom-poms?” Abby hated to admit it, but she was actually trying to make conversation with you now. Her first approach clearly wasn't the way to go. Sure, she could just be nice and drop the act, but that would be lame. This is more fun.

You furrowed your brows at her comment before realizing you were still in uniform. A laugh ripped out of you as you replied with your major. “And I won’t be shaking anything, thank you.” You added, taking another slow drag.

That actually got her attention. She tilted her head back to give you a once-over, arching an eyebrow. She repeated your major like she was testing the word on her tongue. “That’s…” A pause. She studied your face, trying to see if you were kidding before she shrugged. “Nerdy.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, would you rather me throw a ball around all day?” you huffed, rolling your eyes at her.

“Aww, you jealous, sweetheart?” Abby smirked, her tone dripping with mockery as she shifted closer on the couch. She was almost fully facing you now, her body angling toward yours.

You shook your head in amusement. “Fuck no, I’m not,” you mocked back, sing-songing the words. “Cute thought, though.”

It was Abby’s turn to roll her eyes, but the smirk on her face never fell. “You’re a real smartass, you know that?” She leaned back against the couch, draping an arm across the back, her fingertips inches from your shoulder.

“And you can’t take a hint,” you shot back, scanning her outfit as you took another drag.

“And you’re full of yourself,” she retorted, her eyes flicking toward your hand as you passed her the joint. Her fingers brushed yours as she took it, sending an involuntary shiver up your spine.

She hummed in acknowledgment, bringing the joint to her lips. A moment later, smoke curled from her mouth and nose. Her knee remained pressed against your thigh, solid and warm. “But if you’re gonna check me out, at least be subtle about it,” she teased, voice slightly gravelly from the smoke. She handed the joint back, her eyes glimmering with mischief.

You scoffed. “You wanted me to see you so bad, so I’m doing that. You complaining now?”

Abby exhaled sharply, a quiet laugh. “Holy hell, you’re annoying.” But her gaze lingered, on your face, on your lips, you.

“Yeah?” A slow smile spread across your face. “Good. Maybe you’ll run a play and leave.” You jabbed, gesturing to another couch.

She glanced over then back to you. “You wish.” Abby flashed another grin.

You let out a short laugh. “I’m not taking the bait.”She smirked, her confidence unshaken. You looked away and continued “You are tempting, though. I won’t lie.”

Abby’s smirk widened, like she’d been waiting for that. She moved her arm from the back of the couch, fingertips lightly grazing your shoulder, then trailing down your bare arm. Her touch left a warm path in its wake. “Just tempting?” she asked, her stomach twisting. Her eyes flicked down to your lips, the tip of her tongue wetting her own.

You glanced at her hand on your arm and sighed dramatically. “Just. Tempting,” you confirmed, shifting your gaze back to her face. Her hair draped across the couch, the school’s blue jersey stretching over her broad shoulders. “You’ll survive, though.”

Abby hummed, tilting her head to look up at you fully. Her hair fell messily across her forehead, and her eyes danced with a mix of amusement and something else..maybe a hint of genuine interest?

“Just survive?” she echoed, fingers continuing their light, teasing trail down your arm. She moved closer, the gap between you nearly nonexistent. “What if I want more than surviving?”

You didn’t move. Didn’t let her see you sweat. “Not about you,” you mused, setting the joint in the ashtray. “This is my show, girly.”

Abby chuckled, the sound sending another shiver through you. Her fingers skimmed higher, tracing the side of your neck.

“Oh yeah? You’re in charge?” she murmured. Her other hand came to rest on your hip. gentle, but almost possessive. Her thumb brushed slow circles over the bone there.

You rolled your eyes but didn’t pull away. Instead, you raised a hand, catching her chin between your fingers and pulling her just a fraction closer. “I am. And I said this ain’t happening. So knock it off, Anderson.”

Abby’s smirk faltered for just a second, her breath hitching—but she didn’t pull back. If anything, she leaned in, just slightly, her gaze steady on yours.

“Ooo, bossy,” she muttered, voice quieter now. There was a certain edge to it, though, like she didn’t actually mind. Her grip on your hip tightened, her thumb still tracing slow, lazy circles. Her eyes flickered between your lips and your eyes. “I’m starting to like it” she added.

And you hated the way your stomach flipped when she scooted even closer…

-oh my god, they were roommates?

Roommate, roomie, the woman you share your space with. That’s Abby—friend of three years, roommate of a few months.

Perfect roommate would be an understatement. So, of course, when your old landlord raised rent too high for your liking, she was the first person you asked to help look for a new place. Only to catch the way her eyes sparkled when you found one—quiet neighborhood, not too far from work. The extra bedroom was originally going to be an office of some sort, but plans changed.

She cooks, cleans, respects your space, always knocks before she enters your room.

—Well, usually she did. Except for last night.

Those usual soft knocks or “Can I come in?” fell on deaf ears. After moving in, things had unknowingly shifted between you two. An unspoken understanding to not make things awkward. However, one fateful night of her not knocking led to a sleepy, on-the-couch discussion days later, after a long work shift.

The scene was something straight out of a wet dream, (un)fortunately engraved in her mind.

The image of her wholesome roommate—the one who always compliments her cooking, offers to redo her hair when she’s too tired, and has her reach the top shelf. The classic excuse of “Putting those muscles to good use,” you’d say in the sweetest tone. All of that, down the drain the moment her eyes locked onto the woman beneath you. Writhing in pleasure. One leg tossed over your shoulder, the other splayed somewhat behind you. Pornographic whines and pleas smacking Abby in the face the second the door creaked open.

She’d completely forgotten what she even came in there for. A shirt? Where the dustpan was?

Fuck, she had no idea.

The door slammed shut harder than she intended, guilt pouring over her as she realized she’d walked in on such an intimate moment. Hookups for you weren’t uncommon. Always the same pretty faces. One stood out, though. Tall, more on the butch side. Clearly a gym rat. Her arms weren’t nearly as impressive as Abby’s, but she hated herself for even making the comparison.

She’d even bumped into her one morning in the kitchen during breakfast, eyes narrowing at the sight of her mug in the woman’s hands.

“You don’t mind, do you?”

It felt like a taunt. Abby told herself she was being delusional, trying to shake off the bubbling irritation.

The week passed, you two still hadn’t talked about it, along with a few other things—the time she ended up zipping your shirt for you and her hand lingered on your hip even after she was finished. Even that small glimpse of your bare skin reminded her of that night. Or how you always found yourself brushing your teeth next to her in the morning, feigning that you were “just saving water.”

It all whirled in her mind, even as she exhaustedly turned her key, prying open the front door.

Fallen boots and a thrown jacket into the hall closet later, she found herself slumped onto the plush couch. Already hearing your nagging about how her neck would pay for not taking the few extra steps to her bedroom in the morning. The warm yellow light reflected on the flooring, indicating you were home, tucked away in your room.

On Friday nights, you two usually watched a few episodes of one of the many TV series you started together and vowed not to watch without the other. She hadn’t seen much of you since the walk-in, although between your opposite work schedules, that wasn’t alarming.

Her teeth caught her bottom lip, eyes flickering between your door and the TV. She wanted to come get you, act natural. She really, really did, but her thoughts snapped back to that night. How her thighs shifted uncomfortably together, the heat that pooled in her gut when her mind replayed your sounds. How the recurring face you slept with oddly resembled hers.

“Hey, Abs.” She was too deep in her own thoughts to realize you’d emerged before she could call out to you.

“Oh! Heya,” she said, followed by a small head nod.

Even now, as you pushed off the wall, you seemed at ease, completely unaffected by the thoughts that threatened to consume her own mind.

She’d managed to act semi-normal over the past painfully slow thirty minutes. The uneasy feeling caused her to blurt it out before she could stop herself.

“Sorry about the other night. Random, I know— I just, uh, had to get that out.”

“No, no, my door should’ve been locked. Got caught up in the moment and—well, I’m sure you get it.” You waved off with a laugh.

“Yeah, of course,” she answered, a little rushed.

A lie. A big lie. She had no idea. In fact, the closest thing she’d ever allowed from someone else was a few hickeys and semi-decent make-out sessions—always pulling away right before things got too handsy.

Fear wasn’t holding her back, nor was insecurity. For her, it was comfort. She was dating the past, yeah, but the companionship  was craved more than the lost clothes and complaints from neighbors during a heated moment. Although, she knew this only stayed true up until you guys grew closer. With her presence becoming like a second skin to yours, of course, loose t-shirts without a bra and underwear as pants happened. Seemingly unaware of how it sent heat to her cheeks.

But you did know. Of course, you knew. Gracefully adding to the list of teasing. Seeing if she’d crack. And tonight, she did.

It started with a joke, in Abby’s mind—the nuisance that clung to you through the weeks. A joke about if someone could do it better, then maybe you’d stop calling her. It turned into more ‘jokes,’ turned touches, turned into a sudden cup of her cheek and a crashing kiss.

This was one of those moments where you’d get lost and discuss it later. Or, at least, it was—because as quick as it came, she pulled away.

“Sorry—was that too much? I just thought—are you good?” You pulled your hands back from traveling lower than they already were.

“What—?” She blinked, snapping back. “No, I just—yes, I’m good.”

The murmur of the TV did little to ease the tension. The heat never left the room. The whispered words you’d said in her left ear bounced inside her mind. Her slipped comment about how badly she wanted you, unsure if she should’ve said it.

“Soo… you haven’t then?” You knew the answer, but confirmation in this moment was beyond needed.

“If I answer, will you laugh?” She sighed.

“Laugh? Of course not.” Your expression softened.

“I… haven’t.” The words felt heavier out loud. “It’s just, I wanted it to be special.” She turned her head back to you. “Is that silly?”

“No, dude, what? I wish I would’ve waited.” You shook your head.

She scoffed. “You’re just saying that—”

“I’m serious.” You shifted closer. “Your body is a temple and all that jazz. You should be glad you’re waiting.” You finger quoted.

You continued as Her eyes flicked over you, thoughtful. “Whoever gets to tap this”— you gestured vaguely toward her frame—“is lucky. As hell. And.. if you were serious about earlier, Abs… it’s still on the table, okay? Don’t rush anything you don’t want. It’s not going anywhere, and neither am I.”

You smirked. “Literally. I live here.” You said dramatically gesturing around the living space

She laughed shaking her head. “You’re such an idiot.”

You grinned. “Oh, fuck you. I was trying to be sentimental.”

“I know… and I appreciate it.” Abby exhaled, running a hand through her hair before reaching for you, fingers grazing your arm. “But, uh—can we circle back to the part where you were taking your shirt off?”

Your breath caught. “You sure?”

“more than sure.” She took a deep breath. “Just gentle, yeah?”

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As nice as kissing her was, your lips were slightly swollen at this rate, and you weren’t sure how much longer she planned to drag this part out. She seemed comfortable, but her hands stayed rooted at her sides—stiff as a board.

“You say you’re relaxed, but your shoulders are telling a different story,” you teased, pressing your hands to them, feeling how tense she was. “See?”

Abby huffed, exhaling sharply through her nose. “Yeah, okay. Maybe a little.”

But before she could dish out another apology. You spoke back up “Don’t apologize. You’re not doing anything wrong. But if you’re not ready, we don’t—”

“—No, I am.”

“Okay, so let’s start small.”

“Smaller than you kissing me?” she muttered, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

“Shut up. Just do me a favor—take a deep breath. In and out.”

Your eyes followed the rise and fall of her chest, so close that her breath fanned against your skin. “You feeling okay enough to keep going, or are you planning to suck my lips off my face first?”

Abby huffed a quiet laugh. “Not my fault you taste good.”

“Oh? That right?” you teased. “Then tell me what you want.” She hesitated, shifting slightly under your gaze. “Don’t get shy on me now, c’mon—it’s just us.”

A beat passed, pools of blue locked onto yours. “I want you to touch me.” a little rushed, like she’d forced the words out before she could second-guess them. Then, quieter—“Please.”

“Good, that’s a start.” You nodded. “Now tell me where.”

She swallowed, jaw tightening for a second. “I-Shouldn’t I be…?” She trailed off, tilting her head to expose her neck without finishing the thought.

“Uht uht, don’t worry about me right now.” You pressed a lingering kiss to the pulse point at her neck, and her breath hitched—followed by a sharp exhale through her nose. “Oh, you liked that, huh?”

Her hands finally lifted, gripping the fabric of your shirt like she needed something to hold onto. “Yeah… do that again”

She shivered at the touch, her eyes slipping closed. Each kiss was slow, teasing, drawing out that shiver, that soft gasp of your name. Her fingers pressed into your back, nails leaving faint red lines against your skin through the thin material.

“Yeah.” She breathed out. “Just like that.”

You smiled against her skin as you traveled south, kissing along the rim of her shoulder, gently pulling her head to the side to give yourself more room. “You’re so vocal, Abs.”

She sighed, her head lolling to the side, offering herself up more. The grip on your shirt loosened as her breathing quickened just the slightest. With her head tilted, a soft mewl escaped her parted lips—a reaction to the tender kisses that made their way across her skin.

“It’s your fault,” she murmured. You giggled at her retort, hands finding the hem of her tank top, fingers tracing the fabric. You kissed over her shoulder a few more times before pulling back to look at her.

“You ready for me to take this off, or do you need more time?”

Abby chewed her bottom lip, her gaze flicking down to her tank top and then back up to your face. The flush that dusted her cheeks extended down to her neck, faint red marks from your ministrations littering her skin. She swallowed, eyes lingering on the way your fingers toyed with the fabric, before huffing out a:

“I—uh… yeah, I’m ready.”

“You sure? I’m going at your pace, no rushing needed.”

You asked for confirmation, thumbs stroking the skin of her abdomen under the fabric gently.

She inhaled sharply at the gentle touch, her mind clouded by the way your thumbs swiped across her skin. It was hard to form coherent thoughts while your touch burned with the promise of something more.

“I’m sure,” she murmured, her voice just loud enough for you to hear. “Wanna feel your hands on me.”

“Okay, lift your arms for me.”You scooted closer to her, gently lifting the hem of her tank top.

She obliged with a small nod, raising her arms in the air. The motion caused the fabric to ride up, revealing a sliver of her toned stomach. Her breath hitched as the tank top cleared her head, leaving her exposed—chest and torso bare, save for a few freckles and moles that dotted her skin like constellations.

You trailed a finger down her shoulder to her arm, keeping your gaze on her face.

“You’re so pretty, look at you.” You smiled, scanning over her torso momentarily.

“Shut up.” Even though there was no real bite behind it, she shifted slightly, trying to hide the way her chest rose and fell with her shallow breaths. Pinkish nipples pebbling as the cool air passed them.

You laughed.“Don’t be embarrassed—look, I’ll take mine off too. That better?”

She took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure with little success. Seeing you strip too? Yeah, that sounded better. Her gaze raked over you, taking in every inch of exposed skin as you removed your shirt.

“Yeah,” she breathed out. “That’s better.”

Her gaze wandered shamelessly over your body, taking in the sight of your exposed shoulders, the way your bralette hugged your chest. Her gaze lingered there a moment before drifting up to your face—eyes, nose, lips. She nodded, words failing her at first as she tried to regain her composure.

You hummed in reply, trailing your hands to her collarbone, gently moving down to her breast, cupping the warm skin. “How does that feel?”

She let out a soft moan as your hands needed, the warmth of your touch. Her back arched involuntarily against your hands, trying to press herself closer.

“God. That feels…” She huffed out, struggling to find the words. “So, so good.”

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Thankfully once she was more relaxed, her thighs instinctively parting a bit as your hands continued their way up her legs. The gentle touch had her squirming gently, trying to get closer. Trimmed blonde happy trail leading to her oozing folds. arousal dripping down to her anus.

“H-hah—” abby’s eyes fluttering shut at the contact of your lips on her lower abdomen, her back sinking deeper into the couch. Her soaked through boxers somewhere lost on the floorboards. Glistening skin, slowly coming into view as you grew closer.

“Still okay?” You asked, between kisses.

Half-lidded eyes met yours, watching as you trailed lower, teasingly slow. She could only manage a nod, anticipation buzzing through her body.

“Use your words.” looking up at her through your lashes.

Her breath hitched. “Mhm… still okay.”

“Gonna start now”

A sharp exhale, fingers curling into the cushion beneath her. “God, please—” The words broke into a sucked-in breath the second your lips made contact where she needed you most. The feeling was new, almost overwhelming. Her fingers threaded themselves into your hair, tightening with each flick of your tongue.

Her muscles flexed with every breath as they grew heavier. She was wound so tight, every nerve alight, and god, if you could just stay right there—

She gasped, one hand gripping the side of the sofa. It wasn’t hard to find her clit, but she was still only partly spread out, hips shifting like she was chasing something just out of reach.

You’d glance up occasionally, feeling your own wave of heat pass through you at the sight. Her face was contorted in pleasure, her full-blown whines ringing out. Eating your roommate out after a semi-awkward encounter wasn’t on the agenda for the night, but the movie was now long forgotten.

“Please, d-don’t stop.” Her plea wasn’t louder than a whisper, eyes squeezing shut as you continued your ministrations on her sodden core.

If reducing a woman who could bench press you without breaking a sweat to a whimpering mess was a kink? You definitely just discovered it.

Air wasn’t an option when her hips kept jerking up involuntarily, seeking you—your tongue, her orgasm, everything. She let herself revel in the selfish need teetering on the edge, chasing it, desperate.

Soft breaths came in ragged gasps. “Don’t stop. God, don’t stop—” The white-hot pleasure you were giving her consumed every thought. Abby—composed, polite Abby? She couldn’t think. Nope. Couldn’t form a single coherent thought except please.

She chanted it over and over until she couldn’t hold back anymore. The pressure in her gut snapped, sending a rush of euphoria crashing over her like a tidal wave. Her back arched, fingers tightening in your hair—a full-blown tug—as her climax tore through her.

“F-fuck—” she choked out, voice breaking as she rode it out.

You soothed her, voice gentle. “I got you.”

The death grip on the couch and your hair finally loosened, her body still trembling under you, breathless in the aftermath. A sheen of sweat beaded down her caved-in abdomen as she tried to catch her breath.

“Jesus Christ,” she gasped finally, dazed. Her eyes stuck on the ceiling.

And all you could think as you rubbed her thigh gently was—

If reducing a woman who could bench press you without breaking a sweat to a whimpering mess was a kink? You definitely just discovered it.

˖ . ݁˖°✧

The last of us

Abby Anderson (main)

Ellie Williams

Arcane

Vi/jinx w/ clingy partners (only 1 jinx work)

Vi