hi, in light of recent inbox stuff ive been getting i just want to apologise to anyone ive hurt in my near past but ive talked it out and settled things... yeah. thats that. ill delete/block any more hate recieved. i cant change the past, but i can simply strive to be better
please don’t ask me personal questions, i’m a sensitive dolly and i can get uncomfortable easily,
i’m mentally ill so please bare with me if i disappear off the grid for a while to cope with depression and such,
if you’re rude in any way or overstep my personal boundaries, there’s a big big chance i’ll block you or delete things you leave so, i’m sorry
men, maga, zionists, minors under 16 and most ageless blogs that’ll seem too old or too young, please dni.
haters get blocked. i won’t tolerate drama here!
𐙚 millie’s little rules for requests!
when requesting, please don’t be rude,
please, please note i probably wont do all the requests i get but i definitely will try. i’m very sorry in advance if i don’t do your request
please, do not flirt with me
i’ll write frequently for sevika, ambessa medarda, violet, caitlyn kiramman, grayson, ellie williams, abigail anderson, joel miller.
i’m uncomfortable with some themes in writing that some like to romanticise like: pedophilia, zoophilia (if they’re hybrids it’s okay!), very heavy and graphic noncon, scat, vomit, gore etc. that’s about it. i’ll upgrade it if i remember more. i’m not really anti-censorship though,
please, let me know if you like my content, appreciation goes a long way in a writer’s heart!
── ♡ synopsis: you both get caught in the rain, and she gives you her jacket.
── ♡ cw: playful banter, age gap, deep conversations, kissing, fingering, praise kink, oral, talking through it, cum licking, size kink
── ♡ note: im looking for writer mooties guys
“That ice cream was ridiculously expensive, you didn’t have to get me that.” and despite saying that you still licked the swirl on the cone.
“You deserve a sweet treat every now and then, I know how hard your parents are on you, kiddo.”
Sevika had always been like this.
Providing you with things you knew your parents would disapprove of but then again, your parents wouldn’t trust anyone more than her. She was your dad’s best friend, and helped in your parents’ wedding so much that she ended up becoming your emergency contact, in case you couldn’t get a hold of your parents at the moment.
But ever since you’d finished college, you’d started seeing her differently.
Yeah, Sevika never settled down with a woman.
You were aware of her hook-ups.
But somehow that made you feel jealous the more you thought about it. Her big, rough hands running down someone else’s body, kissing them with her pretty plump lips.
Oh, hell no.
“You’re really sweet to me.”
“Well,” Sevika shrugged, “you’re kinda my responsibility.”
You glanced.
“That’s all I am to you? Just responsibility?”
She barked a laugh, “where’re you gettin’ that from, kiddo?”
“Nowhere…” you muttered and quietly ate your ice cream.
“You can talk to me ’bout anything, y’know that, right?”
You nodded. “Yeah.”
“Good.”
You both walked in silence. The busy city was filled with the sound of heavy traffic and people living their tireless lives. The sky was gray, the weather almost depressing if you hadn’t just had the best meal of your entire week—thanks to Sevika.
You looked at her.
Her short hair was tied in a ponytail today—which barely held the dark strands. Her dark clothes highlighted her sharp features and her biceps bulged the sleeves of her jacket.
You looked back at the road, biting into the side of the cone, “do you always dress in black?”
“... No? Why?”
“Nothing,” you spared her a judgemental look, “y’look good in black.”
“Why thank you.”
You felt your cheeks flush so you instantly avoided eye contact, and stared at the road with increased intensity.
“Looks like it’s gon’ rain.”
Sevika looked up at the sky, studying the way the clouds moved rather fast. You looked up as well, watching the sky with her.
“I like rain.”
“Yeah? Don’t jinx us.”
You rolled your eyes. “I fancy playing in the rain actually.”
“Sure, kid, but not right now.” Sevika said, voice serious, “I don’t want you getting sick.”
You laughed, “my immune system is stronger than that—”
“Doesn’t matter.”
You sighed, “arguing with you is like arguing with a wall.”
“Good. ’s supposed to be like that.”
You both went silent again. You finished your cone.
Then, you finally gathered the courage to ask:
“Sevika?”
“Hmm?”
“Why don’t you ever get a girlfriend?”
She didn’t answer.
You continued. “It’s not like you’re ugly. You could easily bag a hot chick.”
“I’m not good with commitment.”
You squinted. “Don’t you lie to me, old woman.”
Sevika feigned offense, hand on her heart, but a smile on her lips, “how dare you!”
You swatted her shoulder playfully, smiling as well, “tell me the truth!”
“Okay…”
She took a deep breath.
“I’m secretly straight.”
You almost tripped a step.
Sevika laughed. “The look on your face was fucking iconic!”
You stopped walking one hand on your hip, “Sevika, stop playing with me! Tell me the truth. Pretty please?”
One drop landed square on your forehead.
You blinked, eyebrows furrowed.
Then another drop. And another.
Then—it started raining.
Hard.
Not even a slight trickle.
Almost a thunderstorm.
Sevika looked down at your body. Your white top had stuck to your body instantly, you got drenched within five seconds under the rainwater. Your black bra showed through your top, and that blared alarms in Sevika’s head.
Without a single second of hesitation, she removed her leather jacket and draped it over your head.
You were practically drowning in it.
“Sev—!”
“Take it.”
“No, I don’t want it. I wanna play in the rain!” you were already tugging it off.
Sevika pursed her lips, annoyed, and pulled the front of the jacket over, buttoning it so you couldn’t take it off easily.
“Keep. It. On.”
You exhaled deeply, almost exaggeratedly.
“You’re gonna get sick,” Sevika said, softer now.
You swallowed. The moment felt oddly intimate.
Sevika snapped out of it. “C’mon, let’s get you home.”
You nodded and quietly followed her.
You both walked faster than before, almost jogging back home. Sevika used her spare key to click the lock open, pushing you inside first before getting inside herself. She was drenched from head to toe.
“Oh, you’re back,” your mom smiled, then looked at Sevika, “oh, no. You’re soaked. Do you need me to get you a—?”
“I got it.” you said quickly, “my room,” you told Sevika.
Sevika—a little confused now—followed you to your room, apologising to your mother briefly for leaving a trail of water on the floor.
“It’s no big deal.” Your mother mouthed to her before you both disappeared behind your bedroom door.
You closed it and gave Sevika a towel.
“You should get out of those clothes. They’re wet, you’re gonna get sick.”
“I’m gonna be fine.” Sevika said, patting her hair dry first.
“No, you won’t be. I listened to you back there on the road, didn’t I?”
“Barely—”
“Doesn’t matter. You’re not staying in wet clothes, Sev.”
“Okay, okay, fine.”
Sevika took off her clothes and wrapped her body in the bathrobe you passed to her. Rain pattered on your window. You finally took off Sevika’s soaked jacket and put it together with the rest of your clothes.
“Thanks… for what you did for me today.”
Sevika looked at you, confusion written across her face. “Huh?”
“The jacket,” you reminded her.
“Oh! Yeah. Sure, kiddo.”
A moment of silence.
Sevika tried not to get distracted by your lacy black bra staring at her through the see-through material of your damp white top.
You blinked. Then—looked down.
“Oh—”
And quickly turned away.
“Sorry… didn’t mean to flash you.”
Sevika looked away. “You’re all good…”
You quickly got a fresh set of clothes and went to the bathroom to change. You got out dressed in dry clothes, face still flushed from accidentally showing her what you did. You sat down beside her on the bed.
“So… what we were talking about before…” you said, slowly. An evil smile crept on your lips. “Why exactly are you single?”
Sevika facepalmed, “I was hoping you’d forget about that.”
You grinned.
Sevika didn’t make eye contact. “I feel like love can easily turn into a weakness. At first, it’ll feel like rainbows and butterflies and then… things will eventually crash, and you’ll be devastated weeks, if not months.”
“But I don’t think that pattern follows in committed relationships, y’know compromise and stuff is like the basics of keeping a relationship.”
Sevika sighed. “If only it were that easy…” Sevika paused, “and to add to that, I’m not exactly young and meant for a long future.”
You scoffed, “you don’t know that. You could live like a 100 more years, and end up being like those toothless old great grandmas—”
Sevika threw a throw pillow at you. You giggled and caught it.
“You little shit,” Sevika muttered, catching the pillow and tossing it back at your face with far less mercy.
You squealed, nearly toppling off the bed as it smacked into you.
You narrowed your eyes. “See? This is why you’re single.”
“Oh, fuck off.”
You burst out laughing.
Everything in your bedroom—the smiles, the laughing, the banter. It felt personal. Intimate on a different level.
Something almost taboo considering how close she was to your parents.
“What you thinkin’ about, kiddo?”
You opened your mouth to answer but then the word just hit you wrong. Kiddo— it felt weird. Bad.
Misfitting considering your feelings for her.
You swallowed.
“Can you not call me that?”
Sevika tilted her head. “What, you suddenly hate it?”
“It just—... Doesn’t feel right.”
“You’re still younger than me.”
You couldn’t help taking advantage of where the conversation headed, “well, can’t blame me, you’ve been around since the dinosaurs.”
Sevika flicked her finger at your forehead.
“Ow!—hey!”
“Behave.” Sevika said in mock-anger.
You pouted, “so mean to me…”
A beat. You leaned back.
“So tell me, if love makes people weak, what’s the point of it?”
“Point of what?”
“Loving.”
“I guess some people think it’s worth the pain.”
You looked away for a second, “and you don’t?”
“I never said that.”
A pause.
“Sevika… did someone hurt you?”
You both held eye contact for a good five seconds. Sevika smiled, lopsided—suddenly all the years of experience and heartbreak evident on her face.
“Life hurt me, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart hit you the wrong way.
You stared at her.
Sevika clearly realized what she said a second too late because her jaw tightened almost instantly.
“… Don’t make that face.”
“What face?”
“That one.”
“What one?”
“The one where you look at me like I just hung the moon.”
Heat flooded your cheeks immediately.
“I do not look at you like that.”
“Mhm.”
You grabbed another pillow and hit her with it this time.
Sevika caught it easily with one hand.
Show off.
“You’re annoying,” you muttered.
“Yet you keep invitin’ me into your bedroom.”
Your breath caught.
The words hung there.
Sevika seemed to realize how that sounded immediately after saying it because she went strangely still.
The rain filled the silence.
You could hear your own pulse in your ears now.
“… You know that’s not what I meant,” Sevika said finally, voice lower.
“Yeah,” you answered softly.
But neither of you looked convinced. You bit your lip, swallowing and glancing down—Sevika’s lips looked so good.
Dark, matted. What if you wanted a taste? Just a little kiss. Just to smudge her dark lipstick a little.
Just a little…
Sevika cleared her throat.
“Have you… have you ever thought about that?”
“What “that”?”
Sevika paused, as if weighing her words. “Have you ever thought of me like that?”
Everything in your brain paused at once, you felt hyperaware of the sound of rain against glass.
Then, in a very soft voice you replied, “we shouldn’t…”
“I know,” Sevika said almost instantly, like she’d expected that reply from you.
An awkward pause.
Sevika laughed—nervous almost.
“Sorry, I made it weird, didn’t I—?”
You didn’t reply with words.
You leaned forwards, letting your lips graze herself just slightly before pressing against them—her hands automatically grabbed your waist to hold you in place as you kissed her. Your hands moved from holding balance on the mattress to Sevika’s shoulders, kissing her deeper.
One of your hands glided to the back of her neck, rubbing it. It made Sevika groan and her hands on your waist tugged you onto her lap. You plopped down easily—perfectly fitting on her lap as you continued kissing her, holding her face with both hands.
You both parted.
“This is so wrong…”
Sevika’s eyes flickered to your lips, then back at your eyes, “yeah—but fuck—”
And she kissed you again.
You held her tightly, your eyebrows curling upwards as you trembled from the intensity of her kiss. Her tongue slipped between your lips, dominating your mouth with ease.
“You gotta keep this a secret, sugar…” Sevika whispered into your mouth.
“I will,” you whispered back.
Sevika flipped you both, laying you on the mattress as she spread your legs slowly. She rubbed you through your pants first, enjoying the way your cheeks tinted red and you struggled to keep your little moans down.
Your eyes widened when she ran her hand over your clothed clit, making a small choked sound. Sevika pushed your shirt up enough to expose the waistband of your pants.
“I’m taking them off, okay?”
You gulped, “okay…”
Sevika pulled your pants and panties down, leaving your lower half bare. She spread your legs out properly and moaned at the sight alone.
“You’re so pretty here, baby…”
You clenched around nothing.
That was embarrassing.
Just how much effect her words had on you was so fucking embarrassing. You squeezed your eyes close, turning your head away.
“Please, fuck me.”
First, Sevika put two of her fingers—middle and ring—in her own mouth, withdrew the soaked digits and aligned them to your entrance. You whined softly feeling the tips of her fingers press in before she slowly pushed them inside.
Her fingers were thick, the slight callouses that ran down the length of her fingers creating a kind of texture that made your legs shake before she ever fingered you properly. She moved them—smiling at the way you struggle to contain yourself, your hips twitching and legs trying to close around her.
“Oh, baby,” Sevika leaned down, kissing your clothed chest and rising up until her lips brushed your collarbones and neck, “you’re so pretty like this, such a pretty little cunt stretching out on my fingers.”
You wrapped both arms around her, body moving against her fingers almost as if possessed.
“Need more, need… more,” you pleaded, head thrown back to reveal more of your neck.
Her thumb found your clit, circling around the sensitive bundle of nerves. You bit your bottom lip, teeth digging into the flesh to keep yourself from moaning out loud. Sevika was good at this—thanks to her untamed sexual history but you didn’t mind if that meant she was a beast in bed.
“Come on, squeeze me with that pussy, baby.”
“I—I can’t hold it…”
Sevika kissed you near the lips, letting her warm breath fan your face, “cum, sugar.”
Your eyes rolled back, only the whites of your eyes visible as your clear fluids ran down Sevika’s hand. She angled it in a way to make sure it landed mostly on her palm and not the bedsheets underneath. She leaned down, and cleaned you off with her mouth.
It was filthy—the way her nose nudged your clit, tongue lapping up your juices.
Sevika held your legs apart, teasing your overly sensitive pussy with her tongue, knowing fully well you’re overstimulated. But she enjoyed the little sounds you made.
Your heavy breathing filled the room as your hand weakly pushed at her head, “S-Sev, please, I can’t really—I can’t…”
But she was much bigger.
And she used that to her advantage, pinning your lower body down with her weight as she devoured her meal like a starved woman. It was filthy, almost dog-like the way she lapped at your pussy, making sure to let her tongue lay flat and warm against your clit for a significant amount of time before moving to your slit—gathering all your juices.
Finally—she moved up.
Before you could protest, she grabbed your chin and kissed you.
You squeaked, tasting yourself on her tongue.
“Mmmm…” your arms wrapped around her again, this time lazily, playing with her slightly damp hair.
Sevika pulled out of the kiss, and remained like that for a few seconds.
Your noses brushed against each other and for the first time in a while, you saw her beyond the pretentious front—not the arrogant, cocky woman with the muscles who was your dad’s friend.
Just a woman who has been too afraid to love all her life.
And you wanted to be the one to prove to her otherwise—love is weakness, yes. But it can also be strength if you find the right person.
older gf!abby who treats your comfort with near-religious seriousness. Blankets tucked around your shoulders. A hand resting against your knee during stressful situations. Her fingers brushing through your hair while you're half asleep.
older gf!abby who always seems to find an excuse to tilt your chin upward when you're speaking. Not because she can't hear you. Because she likes looking at you. Because she likes the fleeting, breathless pause that follows when her thumb brushes your jaw and her attention narrows entirely onto you.
older gf!abby who finds a peculiar sort of joy in indulging you. Not because she thinks you're incapable. Because she likes it. Likes carrying the heavy bags. Likes opening stubborn jars. Likes hearing you call her name from another room whenever you need help reaching something.
older gf!abby who loves how naturally you fit against her. Curled into her side during movies. Half asleep against her chest on long car rides. Tangled around her in the middle of the night. Sometimes she catches herself looking down at you and experiences a strange, honey-thick swell of affection that nearly hurts.
older gf!abby who secretly adores when you seek her out after a bad day. There is something almost embarrassingly primal about the satisfaction she derives from watching you cross an entire room just to bury your face in her shoulder.
older gf!abby who cannot seem to help herself when you're sleepy. The second your eyelids start drooping, she becomes unbearably persistent. A hand on your forehead. A hand at your waist. "C'mon, angel, bed." As if you're some rare and delicate creature liable to expire if left unattended for too long.
older gf!abby who refers to you as angel with such devastating sincerity that it doesn't even feel like a pet name anymore. More like a title. Something precious. Something she handles with reverent care.
older gf!abby whose apartment slowly becomes littered with evidence of you. Hair ties around doorknobs. Skin care products beside hers. Your favorite snacks appearing in cabinets you don't remember stocking. She never mentions it. She just likes the quiet domesticity of it.
older gf!abby who loves the fact that you still have softness in you. That despite everything, there are pieces of you untouched by cynicism. She guards those pieces with almost religious devotion.
older gf!abby who loves fixing things for you because she adores the look on your face afterward. That bright little smile. That obvious relief. She'd rebuild the entire world with her bare hands if it meant seeing it.
older gf!abby who likes tugging you onto her lap while she's kissing you. Large, rough hands roaming your curves possessively, mapping out every dip and swell. She squeezes the soft globes of your ass, kneading the supple flesh. "Gonna mark up this pretty body of yours... let everyone know who you belong to."
older gf!abby whose eyes glint with primal hunger as she drinks in the sight of you, begging her to pay attention to your tits - flushed cheeks, glazed eyes, chest heaving with each panting breath. She looks absolutely debauched and Abby has never wanted anything more. "Since you asked so nicely, baby..." In one swift motion, Abby yanks your shirt over your head and tosses it aside. Her calloused hands immediately go to your breasts, roughly palming the soft mounds. She tweaks and rolls your nipples between her fingers, relishing your cries of pleasure. "These tits were made for my hands, sweetheart. So perfect, so responsive..." she dips her head, capturing one rosy peak between her teeth.
── ♡ synopsis: you both had an argument, but the heater is broken and you’re both broke.
── ♡ cw: cuddling, fluff, post argument tension
You and Sevika had just had an argument but the biting cold of the Zaunite winter forced you both to remain in the room that trapped the most heat—the shared bedroom of your apartment.
Sevika fiddled with the heater for a while, but returned with a frustrated huff before slumping down on the edge of the bed.
You perked from underneath the blanket.
“Can’t figure it out?” You asked.
“Not like you’ll manage either,” she grumbled.
You rolled your eyes, feeling attacked. So, even if you knew no shit about technology, you gingerly walked to the useless heater and tried to make it work. It wasn’t just dusty. It was old as well.
Ancient, actually.
You sighed and straightened.
“This is so fucking useless.”
Sevika mumbled, “told ya’...”
You hated that she was right but you both had to make it through the night. You knew Sevika had work early in the morning and you had to run errands tomorrow as well so you both needed to be well rested.
“Well, we gotta sleep so…” you looked over at the single bed and blanket.
“No way.”
“Yes way.” You climbed in bed and scooted to the absolute corner of your side, “come on, don’t be a baby.”
Sevika groaned in annoyance at your words and begrudgingly allowed herself under the blanket. You were tired. The moment your eyes fluttered shut, sleep consumed you.
Sevika watched you sleep, the soft sound of your breathing serving as white noise for the older woman to drift to sleep. She subconsciously shifted closer but the moment her arm touched yours—she felt how cold you were.
It tugged at her heartstrings.
And despite everything in her screaming not to do it, she wrapped one arm around you, and pulled you flush against her own body—that was practically its own heat generator.
You were dead asleep.
You didn’t even realise that the warmth you felt wasn’t the blanket.
It was the heat produced by your wife. You snuggled your face against her and slept on, completely unaware you were cuddling your wife in your sleep.
But Sevika knew, and she would keep it a secret.
Not because she didn’t love you, but because she didn’t want you to know—you’re her only weakness, and even when you both fought she’d make sure you’re happy and safe before anything else.
Oh you’re mentally exhausted and feel like a broken thing? I’ll ask you how you are every day and I’ll treat you gently like you’re delicate porcelain without making you feel like a problem. It’s not my job to heal you, but the least I can do is show that I care about you, and that not a single moment passes by that I don’t think about you.
It’s the little things—the gentleness in the tone, the genuine eagerness to know if you’re getting any better.
It’s so attractive when someone double-texts you because they’re unsure if you saw the first message, but it’s nothing snarky—just soft worry.
“Are you okay? Let me know if there’s anything bothering that pretty head of yours.”
The bar was loud but you were sure what you heard from your girlfriend— Abby— of two years. The last few weeks she had been insufferably emotionally negligent. She stayed out more than she stayed in, and spent less time with you. At first, you thought she needed space. You had her sit down with you for ten whole minutes, just explaining how important it is to communicate needs in a relationship.
But it didn’t change Abby.
She remained the way she was.
Avoidant. Negligent.
Sometimes she asked you if you ate dinner when she got back from work, sometimes she just went straight to bed.
She didn’t even cuddle you anymore.
It felt like the love was a flame of a candle slowly dying down.
You reached a hand over the table, putting it over Abby’s, “I don’t want good, I want you.”
Abby sighed and moved her hand away, “you don’t understand—”
“Oh, I understand alright,” you cut in, “I want to be with you, and even if it takes a lot of relationship counselling, we’ll make it work. How about… you and I book a couples therapy session at—?”
Abby got up, “I don’t think talking is helping.”
A couple heads turned.
You got up too, “so you want to throw away the two years we’ve spent together?”
Abby stared.
Was it fear you saw? Fear of losing an investment or a lover? You couldn’t quite place it, but this wasn’t the time for you to be dissecting her emotions. You were a human being with feelings, and at the moment, you had tears in your eyes.
How could she not want to save the relationship?
You grabbed your purse, “I’m calling a cab back home.”
And you left.
Abby didn’t chase. She stood there and stared after you dumbly as if you’d just slapped her across the face.
Maybe she knew what she was doing wrong but she’d hoped you’d forget about it, maybe give her the benefit of the trust you both had, but you weren’t stupid. You knew when to speak up, but as you hailed a cab and headed back home—you wondered if Abby was falling out of love with you.
The thought alone made warm tears blur your vision, you looked down, letting your tears drip down onto your lap. Why didn’t she love you the same anymore? Did you change? Did you look any different?
The questions didn’t stop in your head and that’s what made it worse. The driver noticed you crying but didn’t say anything—you were grateful for that at least. You didn’t need anyone to question your misery at the moment, maybe things could get better.
When you got home, the first thing you did was take a cold shower to try to get your mind off of the pain. Abby wasn’t home yet. Maybe she wouldn’t come home. Maybe she’d ghost you. Maybe…
The thought made your chest ache.
Didn’t it hurt her to be away? Water cascaded down your back, leaving your hair and face soaked. You took a deep breath and gathered all the energy left in your body to finish up, before stepping outside in nothing but just a towel wrapped around your frame.
The door opened and clicked shut.
You turned.
Abby was home.
But you weren’t about to talk to her. You couldn’t. You could feel new tears forming, but you walked and got some clothes out of your closet.
You could hear the floorboards creaking elsewhere as Abby stumbled around the house. You wore your pajamas quietly, trying not to think about your girlfriend being under the same roof as you, after that intense conversation.
You got in bed, pulled the blanket up to your chest, and turned the lights off. As you snuggled against nothing, holding your pillow firmly against the side of your face—you realised just how attached you were to Abby.
“Baby…” you heard her slur.
The bedroom door creaked open. Footsteps filled the small space.
“Baby.”
Suddenly—weight on your body.
Your eyes snapped open.
“Abby!?”
“I love you, baby, I love you, I’m sorry,” she sobbed.
You turned the light on. Abby was there sprawled halfway on the bed, arms wrapped around the length of your legs.
“Baby, what’s—!?”
That’s when you saw it.
She was drunk, her eyes were red and watery. You got up, and wrapped your arms around Abby’s muscular frame.
“Hey, hey, hey, I’m here…”
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed into your legs, face pressed into the fuzzy fabric of the blanket.
“It’s okay, you’re—you need rest.”
You helped her up onto the bed. Her face was flushed, cheeks glossy and red as she continued crying quietly. You pulled her in a hug, holding her gently.
“You’re so pretty…”
You felt your cheeks warm up, the sudden compliment making your heart flutter.
“You’re my pretty girl, and I’m sorry I’ve been a fucking asshole, I—”
“You’re not an asshole” you rubbed Abby’s back soothingly.
You could smell the alcohol on her breath now, heavy and bitter, but underneath it was Abby—your Abby—the same woman who used to press sleepy kisses to your shoulder at three in the morning, the same woman who memorized how you took your coffee after only two dates.
And she was crying like her heart was being ripped open.
“Abby, it’s okay, we can work things out…”
She hiccuped softly. “S-sorry… I’m scared… I’m so scared.”
“Scared? Why?”
“You love me so fucking much.” Her voice trembled harder now. “And I kept thinking… eventually you’re gonna wake up and realize I’m not worth all that love.”
“You’re worth it all, Abby, you’re worth more than everything I give you.”
“I’m not…”
“Yes, you are.”
You rocked back and forth quietly, hugging Abby and whispering to her about how much she means to you.
“I kept trying to act normal but every day I just—” she let out a shaky breath, “—I kept thinking about how happy you make me and it scared the shit out of me.”
You were crying now too. You buried your face in her shoulder.
“You fucking idiot… you could’ve just told me that.”
You both sniffled, letting the moment break both of your guards down in a way that showed your true selves. You didn’t even remember when you both had ended up falling asleep, faces covered in tearstains and the slightest trace of drool, limbs entangled with one another.
When you woke up the next day, the first thing that hit you was the smell of alcohol. You pushed Abby’s heavy toned legs off your body, and looked at her peaceful sleeping face, blond hair mussed with sleep.
“Baby, wake up, we have work…”
Abby rolled over. “Not going. Calling in sick…”
“No, you’re not.” You pushed her. “Wake up!”
“No… head hurts…”
You got up with an annoyed huff and walked out of the room. The kitchen was neat—none of you had eaten dinner last night. You could only be grateful Abby was a lightweight and didn’t get too drunk on an empty stomach.
The concept of her getting alcohol poisoning made your heart clench painfully. You prepared the most half-assed lemonade ever in a glass and hurried to the bedroom, perching at the edge.
You pushed Abby with your hand again.
“Wake up, Abby, here,” the moment you saw her groggily open one eye, you shoved the glass in her hand, pushing her hand close to her lips.
She quickly sat up, and sipped.
“Fuck…”
“You’re going to work,” you said, getting off the bed and wrenching the closet door open, “and so am I. And we get back, and we talk about this—whatever happened last night.”
“I don’t think there’s anything to—”
“You were sobbing to my legs in the dark.”
Abby’s cheeks went a deep shade of red.
“No, I was not.”
“Abigail Anderson.”
“Okay, fine, maybe I was.”
You rolled your eyes and took your pajamas off right there, grabbing your work clothes. Before you could put your deodorant on, and shirt on—Abby got off the bed and threw her heavy arms around you, lemonade sitting forgotten on the bedside table now.
“Abby… we can do this later.”
“No,” Abby slowly pressed you against the closet, your back facing her, “we’re fixing things now…”
“We’re not.”
“Yes, we are.”
You turned around forcefully, “Abby, I told you we’re—”
Her lips captured yours, hushing you.
Her thigh pushed between both yours, pressing up against your most sensitive area. You couldn’t help tensing a little when you felt her pressing so close. You could taste the lemon on her tongue. Her hands felt your skin, moving against you like it was all muscle memory.
Abby pulled away. She looked like a mess with the tearstains on her cheeks and messy hair, but she looked brighter than ever before.
She hadn’t been this close to you in a long time, and that only made your heart beat faster against your ribs. Your panties felt damp, you subconsciously ground your body down against Abby’s jeans.
In the position you both were in, the side difference was even more noticeable. She wasn’t all that much bigger than you, but her muscle mass easily made her appear bigger. And she seemed to fucking enjoy it.
“That’s it, baby,” she whispered finally parting from the kiss, “fuck… grind, just like that.”
“You’re such a jerk…”
But you did exactly what she said.
Abby’s other hand cupped your ass, giving it a firm squeeze as she moved you back and forth on the rough material of her jeans.
“Abby, Abby, I need you. I have for so long and it fucking hurts…”
“Tell me… did you masturbate thinking of me?”
Your throat went dry. But you forced yourself to answer.
“Yes.”
“Did you cum thinking of me?”
You nodded.
Abby pulled you closer. “I asked a question, baby.”
“Yes, I came thinking of you.”
“Good girl.”
Abby pulled you to the bed where she laid you, and spread your legs, admiring what’s on between. Abby’s hands remained on the insides of your thighs, pinning them down effectively as her tongue darted out to gather your juices.
She licked you up, tasting you on her tongue.
And she fucking moaned.
The taste of you—something she had deprived herself from for the last few days—it drove her crazy in the best way possible.
“Baby, I need you…”
Abby didn’t respond, she circled your clit using her tongue before pressing it to you making your hips twitch.
“Abby!” You moaned her name.
Abby moaned hearing you moan.
That’s how desperate she was for you.
She held you down, devouring you with her tongue. Worshipping you with her tongue like she hadn’t done all those other weeks. When she thought back to that, it only made her more and more willing to eat you out until you’re nothing but a mess in a puddle of your own release.
Her tongue disappeared inside entirely, rubbing against your walls while her hands kept your thighs from closing around her head—not that she’d hate you making it impossible for her to breathe.
Abby flicked her tongue on your sensitive clit—that’s all it took for you to cum. It spilled on Abby’s chin and the sheets beneath you both. The orgasm washed over you, leaving your body a trembling mess.
“Please… I—Abby, I need your fingers. Now…”
Abby kissed your mound before readying two fingers, “whatever my princess wants.”
Her digits shoved inside you slowly, letting you feel the stretch as her thick fingers scissored their way into your tight cunt.
You squeezed around her, “o-oh, please, I need you…”
Abby kissed your lower abdomen and continued spreading kisses out on the skin of your inner thighs while her fingers pumped in and out of you, making curling motions to find that one textured spot in you.
“Fuck, I missed this… Abby, I missed you.”
“I missed you too, my angel.”
Her thumb rubbed your clit in tight circles, three fingers fucking you like there was no tomorrow.
Tears pricked your eyes.
Tears of pleasure and not pain.
“Abby!” You gasped, grabbing her hair.
You came again, this time messier than before. Abby leaned down.
“I can’t—Abby, I’m overstimulated!” You squeaked.
“I know,” Abby said, “let me clean you…”
Her tongue glided over your sensitive skin as she licked up your juices, licking your cum off your skin using her tongue.
“My poor angel has been so deprived of this.”
Her hands left your thighs and snaked around your hips.
Without warning, she stuffed her face in your pussy, eating you out like a starved woman.
Surprised—your moans got louder.
Not even words anymore.
Nothing coherent.
Just filthy pornographic moans as you held her head tighter.
Eventually, when Abby’s jaw grew slack, slowly you pulled her up from between your legs and pressed a kiss on her beautiful lips.
“You’ve done enough for the day…” you whispered hoarsely.
“I think we both should call in sick since we’re late already.” Abby smiled.
“You—” you shook your head with a laugh, “you’re such a menace.”
Abby held you closer, “as long as I’m yours.”
Abby’s bigger arms wrapped around you, holding you in place as she sank back onto the mattress. Your body ached with exhaustion.
“I’ll get up and get you ice-cream in a bit.”
You looked over at her. “No, I don’t need it.”
Abby looked at you, confused, “but aftercare—”
“I just want cuddles.”
Abby chuckled.
It was warm. Full of love.
“Okay, we can do that.”
You hugged her tight, and whispered, “ice-cream later…”
Abby laughed and held your naked body close, “alright, my angel.”
as a queer person of color, i don’t find reading or fantasizing about cops in any romantic or sexual way appealing. police systemically have been created to take innocent black and brown lives and the monsters who do it get a slap on the wrist. fuck the police and fuck this fucked up justice system that rarely brings justice to people who look like me and love unconventionally like i do. please keep the cop fanfics FAR AWAY from me.
theartofmadeline
kaledo-art
andulkaphoto
vaporwave
snowghoul
areudirty
jbbartram-illu
kianamaiart
