love

i’ve also tried to catch up on some shows n movies lately. i’m currently rewatching some marvel movies + hotd’s newest (and i’m trying to go to the movies more often too)

still have to catch up with the pity’s 2nd season and iwtv’s 3rd one, and i am planning on seeing supergirl, the odyssey and spider-man bnd next month so… wish me (and my wallet) luck

the most exciting part… i bought my first car!! if things go as planned, i’ll be driving myself (and my gf ofc) around from now on. we just gotta get some stuff fixed up these days and then it’s all hands on deck

i am falling on a bucky barnes rabbit hole. rewatching the marvel movies rekindled all my feelings for him. it’s got me seriously considering on writing for him cause, and i can’t stress this enough, i love him so fucking much

you chuckle, and vi's grin widens at the sound of it. her mouth trails up your neck, jaw, and face until her lips meet yours in a kiss so tender, so gentle, so full of love that your heart makes a flip.

"mornin', baby," her voice is rough from sleep, her powder-blue eyes looking at you with devotion. one of her arms sneaks around your waist, pulling you closer to her as she plants a new kiss on your shoulder.

"g'morning, vi," your hand plays absentmindedly with her hair. "mmm, it's so dark outside. what time is it?"

vi looks at the clock on the nightstand. "six-thirty."

your eyes widen, and you're about to grumble in disagreement, but vi shifts slightly until she's snuggling on top of you, her head lying over your chest as her arms tighten gently around your waist. her hair is a tangled mess, the longer strands fanned out over you and prickling at your exposed skin.

your heart beats like a drum and heat crawls up your neck as her lips brush delicately against your chest. vi notices, of course she does, and she props herself onto her elbow as her mouth tugs upward.

"oh my," her eyebrows are lifted slightly, an amused expression on her face, "your heart's—"

"oh, shut it," you hide your face in the palms of your face, and you can feel your cheeks burn in embarrassment.

"you have a crush on me," vi says in a singing voice, clearly teasing you. she chuckles, lying her head back on your chest and pulling you even closer. "that's so embarrassing, babe."

you huff out a laugh, eyes peeking between your fingers to glance at her briefly. she shoots you a playful smirk as soon as your eyes meet, and any other day you would tease her back, call her an idiot, or start a pillow fight.

but today? today your heart's so full of love, so thrilled at the thought of going to your first ever pride parade with your girlfriend. so delighted with the fact that you get to wake up by her side and fall asleep next to her, with the fact that she's the very first thing you see in the morning, the last person you speak to at night, and the one you're constantly thinking about.

"i— i don't think i'll ever..." you take a shaky breath, and suddenly vi's smirk falters. she blinks once, shifting until she's hovering over you, but she stays silent, giving you the chance to finish the thought. "i'll never stop... crushing on you."

vi's heart warms at the sight of you— bottom lip caught in between your teeth, eyes sparkling underneath dark eyelashes, nervousness clear in your features.

"i'll never stop having a crush on you," she repeats, one of her hands coming up to cup one of your cheeks. "i love you."

your eyes flutter close as vi's thumb traces your cheekbone, and you lean into her touch. she smiles lovingly, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead before repositioning herself, once again lying on top of you.

your hands thread into her hair, playing with it as her hands now trace random shapes on your arms, and she hums in delight. her head is once again on your chest, and her heart quickly matches the drumming of yours.

The redhead —come on, Abby, seriously, what’s her name?— shifts beside Abby, and Abby feels it more than she sees it. It’s subtle, a micro adjustment, so she doesn’t mind it.

“The strongest thing they have,” you say, and you mean it. The exhaustion is clear in your voice, and it’s all Abby needed to confirm you are having a rough night.

Without thinking, she waves the bartender over. “Whatever she drinks all night long, put it on my tab, alright?”

“Got it,” he nods as he slides your drink over.

“Thanks,” you reach for it, downing it down in a moment before setting the glass with a low thump on the counter. “Another.”

Abby chuckles, letting her free hand come up and squeeze yours as a quick reassurance.

“Thanks, hun,” you say, squeezing back before letting go. “Don’t worry. Night’s still young.”

But Abby’s already turning back to the redhead, reality crashing back in. Right, she was in the middle of a potential hookup.

“So hey,” she puts the smile back on, her voice taking on that practiced lightness once more. “Would you maybe wanna come back to my place? I’ve got a really good—”

“Um, sorry,” the girl’s smile has shifted. It’s more polite and distant now. Her eyes flicker between the two of you for a moment before she grabs her purse, already standing up. “Maybe another time, yeah?”

She’s gone before Abby can even respond, melting back into the crowd as if she was never there at all.

Abby stands frozen, staring at the space where the redhead was. The bass thuds around her, indifferent at what seems to be her third loss of the night. Across the bar, you’re nursing your second drink, staring at the back of her head with knitted brows.

“What the fuck,” Abby mutters, turning back towards the bar just as the bartender comes over, and she points at your now empty glass. “Gimme two of those.”

The bartender nods and gets to work. Abby slumps on the stool right next to you, pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes. She can feel you staring at her now, the weight of your attention too familiar to go unnoticed.

“Okay, what the hell is happening to us tonight?” you ask, a mix of frustration and amusement on your voice. “I’ve had two girls nope out on me already.”

Abby laughs despite herself, a sharp and bitter sound. “Two? I’ve got three. The last one—” she gestures vaguely at the space where the redhead disappeared, “—literally seemed into it until you showed up.”

“I showed up?” you turn to face her fully now, eyebrows raised. “Don’t start blaming me, I’m not trying to steal your girls. I wasn’t even looking at her.”

“What is it then?” she takes a long sip of her drink as soon as the bartender slides it over, nose scrunching at the bitterness. “Do I have a sign on my back or something? Tonight fucking sucks.”

You glance at her, and despite everything, you feel that familiar pull of attraction. Frustration makes her jaw tight, her neck flexing as she takes another sip, and your eyes trail down the curve of it almost against your will. Her arms are tense too, muscles flexed slightly, and there’s something about angry Abby that’s always gotten under your skin in every way possible.

“Okay, so like,” you force yourself to look away, trying to redirect your train of thought. “Earlier I was talking to this girl at the dance floor, right? Remember, pretty blonde girl with black tips?”

“Yeah, yeah, I was with that cute brunette over there, too.”

“Right, and we all started, y’know, dancing together,” you nod, frowning as you remember. “We were vibing, really vibing, and then— I dunno, she just said something about going to the bathroom and never came back.”

“Yeah, I know, I was right next to you,” Abby sighs, grabbing the second glass of whiskey and downing it before continuing. “The brunette and I ended up at the pool table and she seemed so interested— she even tried teaching me how to play. I remember telling her how good at it you were, and then she’s all like ‘ohh, I have to look for my friends’ and just left!”

“What’s going on? It’s fucking Pride and we can’t get ourselves a good fuck,” you groan, throwing your head backwards in irritation.

Abby gets a full view of your throat, the curve of your neck exposed, and her eyes set on a light bruise that’s finally fading now— a hickey she had left there a week ago. The memory makes heat crawl up her own chest, and she can’t help but smirk at it.

“I don’t know,” Abby says, her voice coming out a bit rougher than intended. “Am I losing my touch?”

“Believe me,” you say, turning to face her again. “If they knew your touch, they wouldn’t be leaving the club without it.”

Abby’s smirk deepens. “You think so?”

“I know so.”

There’s a beat of charged silence between you for a moment, before you speak again.

“Do I not look tonight or what?” you ask, and there’s real vulnerability underneath the joke. “Like, is there something wrong with how I look?”

Abby lets her eyes drag slowly down your frame. Your top clings to your chest and curves just perfectly. She takes in the way you’re sitting, the slight curve of your back, the curve of your thighs against the bar stool, and suddenly her mouth is dry.

When her eyes meet yours again, there’s a heat in them that has nothing to do with the whiskey she’s been drinking. She leans in closer, lips brushing your ear and sending a jolt of electricity through your entire body.

“You look absolutely delicious,” her voice is low now, and your breath catches instantly. “Could eat you up right now.”

Five minutes later, you’re in the bar’s bathroom, Abby dropped to her knees, head buried between your thighs. Her tongue traces patterns that make your thighs shake, and you have to grip the edge of the sink to keep yourself upright.

“Fuck, Abby,” you gasp, your free hand finding her hear and threading through it as she works you over. She moans against you, and the vibration sends a jolt of pleasure through your entire body.

Your hips are moving against her face on their own, chasing the pleasure she’s giving you, and the coil in your stomach is tightening already—

She pulls back so suddenly, you whine at the loss of her touch. She’s smirking, and you would absolutely smack her if it wasn’t for the fact that your legs feel like jelly and you’re pretty sure you’d topple over if you tried.

“You’re so fucking desperate,” she murmurs, an annoying grin on her face. “Wanna come all over my face, don’t you?”

“What the fuck,” your fingers tighten in her hair, tugging her closer but she pulls away again. “Abs, stop teasing!”

“I’m having my time with you,” her lips trail across your thighs lightly, teeth grazing softly at your skin.

“Either you finish what you started or I’ll find someone else who will.”

Abby stills completely. You feel her tense against you, and when she pulls back enough to look up at you, her eyes are dark— not with amusement anymore, but a fiercer feeling. Possessiveness.

“No one,” she starts, voice low and unwavering, “can make you cum like I do. You know that.”

It’s cocky, it’s conceited, and it’s absolutely true. No one knows your body like she does, and it’s so infuriating. No one else can read the way you move, anticipate what you want, and give you exactly what you need before you knew you needed it in the first place.

“Prove it,” you challenge, tugging her hair again.

She dives back in without hesitation, and this time there’s no teasing, no pulling back. Abby’s all intensity now, her mouth and tongue working you like it’s her only goal in life. She flattens her tongue against your clit and drags it in slow, heavy strokes that make your vision blur at the edges.

“Right there,” you pant, your hips bucking against her face. “Fuck, yes, yes, yes—”

Your voice cracks as she doubles down, circling your clit with the tip of her tongue in tight, maddening spirals. Her hands slide up your thighs, thumbs pressing into the soft of your skin just below where her mouth works you, holding you open for her.

You can hear how wet you are. Obscene, slick sounds echo off the tile walls mixed with Abby’s greedy noises. She’s messy and unapologetic about it, her chin and lips shining with your arousal as she pulls back just enough to suck your clit between her lips, flicking it rapidly with her tongue. She releases it a moment later with a wet pop and looks up at you, her lips swollen and glistening.

“You taste so fucking good,” she growls, and then she’s back, burying her face in you. Your hand in her hair is gripping tight enough to hurt, but she doesn’t flinch. If anything, she moans louder, and the vibration pushes you closer to the edge.

“Please,” you’re whimpering now, grinding against her face shamelessly. “Please, Abby, I’m so close.”

She shifts her grip, one hand sliding off your thigh. Two fingers push inside you without warning, curling immediately to find that spot that makes your back arch. Her mouth stays on your clit, sucking and flicking, while her fingers work you from withing, pressing and stroking in a rhythm so delicious the coil in your stomach tightens to a breaking point.

Your thighs are trembling violently now, your breath coming in short gasps that sound more like sobs.

“Come on, baby,” she mumbles against you, the words muffled slightly but still clear. “Come for me, please, please, baby.”

Your orgasm crashes through you like a wave, and you cry out, not giving a fuck if anyone hears outside. Abby rides it out with you, her fingers slowing and her tongue gentling, but not entirely stopping. Your hips jerk involuntarily, oversensitive now, but she holds you through it, milking your pleasure until you’re gasping, utterly wrecked.

When she finally pulls back, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, there’s a triumphant expression on her face. You slide down the sink, legs useless, and she catches you, her arms wrapping around your waist as she stands.

“Told you.” She’s so smug about it, clearly satisfied with herself. “No one but me.”

“Asshole,” you mutter, but you’re smirking too, fingers tracing the curve of her jaw where your arousal still glistens.

“Ready to go back out there?” Abby asks, her eyes roaming over your face with a mischievous look. “You’re practically glowing now. Bet you’ll have better luck picking up women now.”

 “What about you?” You gesture vaguely at the way she’s avoiding pressing her thighs together. “Are you walking away just like that?”

Abby’s smile turns slow and secretive. She glances down at the floor, spotting the black lace she’d rip off your body earlier. She bends to retrieve it, the fabric catching the harsh bathroom light as she straightens.

“Well,” she meets your eyes as she folds the lace, deliberately tucking it into her back jeans pocket. “I’ve got my lucky charm right here now.”

Your mouth goes dry. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’m dead serious.”

You step back into the bar a couple of minutes later, after fixing each other up as best as you could. The crowd has thickened, bodies pressed together, and Abby’s hands finds the small of your back, guiding you through the people toward the counter.

Both of you end up parting ways and attempting conversation with a couple of women. You keep having to be careful, adjusting your skirt constantly, acutely aware that you’re not wearing anything underneath it now. The fabric keeps riding up, and you have to keep tugging it down every time you move.

At one point, you scan the crowd and spot Abby at the far end near the dance floor, talking to a pretty girl with dark hair. You can’t help but chuckle as you catch a glimpse of your black lace panties peeking out of her back pocket.

The girl she’s talking to leans in closer, but Abby glances back over her own shoulder and her eyes meet you for a moment. A low, satisfied smirk spreads across her face.