hiii:3 could you write ab a reader with nice lips who just loooves pressing slow soft kisses everywhere with Vi?
tags : kissing , fluff !
You really loved kissing Vi.
Every time whenever you get the chance, you get on your tippy toes and give her a firm kiss to the cheek, nose or lips. Sometimes you alternate and give her quite a few kisses in a row.
Every time you did this— you saw how Vi’s ears turned red and she fumbled over her words pathetically.
“I like your kisses,” she mumbled, laid on her side, one hand under her head and the other idly tracing the line of your jaw.
“Just say you want more kisses,” you giggled, sleepy. Your eyes were heavy with exhaustion, and almost closing.
Vi whispered, “yes, and I’ve never said this before, but you have such beautiful lips…” Vi’s fingers traced your lips, feeling the softness under her thumb before she pressed a little against your bottom lip, “they’re so tender… I love them.”
She leaned closer.
Before you acknowledged it— Vi tackled you to the bed— pinning you down with her body as she kissed you hard. You gasped, nails digging into her toned forearms as you squirmed like a desperate earthworm for exactly five seconds, then you melted in.
You wrapped your arms and legs around her like a koala, trapping her in place— kissing her back and claiming your woman all over again.
This is the Third time I’ve lived through the brutality of hunger its harshness, its silence.
I walk through the streets of the city and find nothing to feed my children.
🩸The first time was last year, when I documented my situation holding onto a piece of bread after over a month of deprivation.
🩸The second time was 6 months ago when I brought some flour for my family and I was very tired because it was a very long walk.
🩸Now, I’m reliving that same pain.
The helplessness before my children, the heartbreak, it feels like I’m failing as a father. This is the very definition of powerlessness. I am of no use to them.💔💔
*Do you feel the weight of this hunger in my heart?
*Can you hear the cries of my children’s empty stomachs?
*Is anyone out there listening?
*Can anyone help us or Or convey the voice of this hunger to those who can help us?
Please donate, we are in dire need of your humanity. I hope you will not leave us to die in this harsh hunger. We want to feel that there is someone we can rely on to lighten this burden a little.
My campaign is verified on Gazavetters under # (88).
Ellie thought that tensions after the argument would die down after she came back from work, but no. You're still giving her the silent treatment.
Yet, she still stays by your side like she always does. Eats dinner at the dinner table with you, shower with you, kisses on your shoulder when you sit in her lap as you watched tv. You did all these things together, but you're still not talking to her. It's slowly killing her.
Before bed every day, you both would be talking about your day. Complaining and comforting each other, but you're still not talking.
She couldn't stand it anymore. She needed to put an end to it. She needed to talk to you. She missed your voice.
"Are you still mad at me?" She says before kissing your neck as you try to go to sleep.
She takes your silence as a yes and leaves you alone. She turns away from you. Now you both are back to back until you turn around, pulling her body close to yours. She turns back over, meeting your eyes.
She smiles, making you smile. "Missed you at work today." She starts before yapping away.
Thinking about loser! Barista Abby! And the girl who works in the bookstore across the street…
[Contains]: cutesy headcannons!
Barista Abby! Who works Sunday to Wednesday, carefully balancing the rest of her week.
Sure, she gets hit on—at the gym, sometimes even at work. And while it’s flattering, she always turns them down. Why? Because lately, she’s found herself watching the clock, waiting for 10 a.m.
A different cozy outfit every time, a tote bag always slung over your shoulder, a pencil tucked behind your ear. Such a sweet sight. Yeah. She was a goner.
Barista Abby! Who told her coworker (and dearest friend) that she’d say something… eventually. But she never quite works up the nerve. She hates when it rains—raindrops littering the windows, ruining her perfect view of you across the street.
Barista Abby! Who wanted to duck behind the counter the first time you walked in. Crushes weren’t something she developed often, but you? The pretty girl balancing more books than you could carry, nudging the door open with your foot. The girl who always checked on the flowers outside the store, The girl who sat in her car for a few moments before heading home, deep in thought.
Barista Abby! Whose face burned when you made a flirty comment in passing, suddenly hyper-aware of herself in ways she never had been before.
“Are you on the menu?” You leaned in across the counter, eyes slowly scanning over her.
“Uh, no, but—but I could be? Like, theoretically?” she stammered.
Barista Abby! Who was a bookworm herself but couldn’t find the nerve to bring it up—until the day she saw you holding City of Thieves by David Benioff, a book she’d read a million times.
“Wait—you’re reading that? Like, actually reading it? Not just holding it for aesthetic purposes?” she blurted, pointing at the book tucked in the crook of your arm.
“You have to tell me what you think. Like, every thought. Immediately.”
And when you said you liked it? She practically beamed with excitement. “Okay, if you liked that one—please, please read The Nightingale and All the Light We Cannot See. Thank me later.”
Barista Abby! Who, over time, grew more comfortable flirting back. Who lived for the giggles she earned, for the way your smile lingered all the way until the red neon CLOSED sign flickered on.
Who perfected her coffee art—so of course, she started drawing tiny hearts and silly faces in your drinks. Who started leaving little notes on your cups. Sometimes a simple have a good day, sometimes a quick sketch of the way your hair looked that morning. Who gushed to her coworker about the spark she swore she felt when your fingers brushed against hers that morning. Who spent the whole day thinking about it—until she finally worked up the nerve to ask you out.
The sun was out, she was off for the rest of the week, and she knew you were too. So she said it. Do you want to go out with me? And when you didn’t even hesitate before saying yes? She let out a tiny scream of excitement in her car—only to immediately stop, remembering her windows weren’t that tinted.
Barista Abby! Who melted the first time you kissed her cheek after your second date.
Who finally stepped foot into the bookstore where you worked, taking in the scent of paper and vanilla—the same scent that always lingered on your clothes. And as she watched you move between the shelves, smiling at customers, in your element, she thought—
cw - implied black reader, just fluff #upmissingabby
unbraiding abby's hair after a long day, letting her head rest against your short clad lap as the tv just becomes white noise to your conversation. she's absolutely drained, wanting nothing more than to be close to you and fall asleep. one of her favorite things to do when she comes home is to have her pretty baby play with her hair. it's such a simple act that helps her relax, reason why she loves it so much.
your fingers gently undo each section, brushing loose strands away from your girlfriend's face. once you finish, her disheveled blonde hair is sprawled all over your lap. your manicured nails run through her hair, softly scratching her sensitive scalp. "mmm..." abby hums softly, eyes closing from the feeling. "feels so good angel...thank you" she places soft kisses on your exposed skin, her head still leaning against your thighs. you giggle softly, twirling strands around your finger. "of course baby you know i love doing this"
abby disrupts your movements by lifting her head up to your level, the widest grin on her face. "when are you gonna let me play in your hair, you never do." her lips turn into a faux pout, reaching for your pink bonnet. "nope don't even. you know i just got my hair done abs." you avoid her hand, swatting it away. "maybe next time i'll let you help me take it down?" her lips brushes against yours softly before interlocking them with your soft ones. "i'd like that." she hums against your lips.
you think to yourself how oblivious your girlfriend is. the fact that she doesnt know she has to sit in the middle of the floor for god knows how long, taking each braid out of your hair. but of course it's abby, she wouldn't even mind.
“'Cause we're way too involved, just to cut and not call”
Situationship! Abby Drabble
࣪𖤐.ᐟ Warnings: none, just two idiots pining, fluff, 2k words. IFY This was 110% Inspired by this — more Abby here — same AU
The sound of Abby’s door clicking shut behind you was second nature by now. You’d met her after being transferred to the WLF base. thrown into a new routine, a new home, with new faces. Eyes feeling- no, knowing you are sizing you up. And hers, Abby, had been one of them. What started as a proper passing familiarity. working the same routes, seeing her in the gym, nodding at each other across crowded mess hall tables. had turned into nights spent in her room, pretending it was casual.
But the feelings had started to bleed through…
First, it was the small things. Redoing her braid after you’d messed it up by tugging on it all night. Jokingly calling her patrol dog, your “baby” when she curled up beside you, earning a sound of amusement from Abby. Then she’d started catching your wrist before you could slip away, her fingers firm but careful. The dim glow of a lantern casting shadows across her face as she’d murmur, “It’s late. You can head back in the morning, yeah?” Now, after weeks of being apart. separate assignments. However the pit in Abby’s stomach from your absence was impossible to ignore. Too obvious to be anything other than what it was. Or what was building.
Abby was sprawled her bed, one arm tucked behind her head, a small smile on her lips as you stepped inside.
“Hey, stranger. Starting to think you forgot about me.”
You sat beside her, the mattress dipping under your weight as her arm stretched along the back, her fingertips brushing your shoulder, resting on the fabric of your shirt. This was supposed to be easy. No strings attached. But as she laughed, her gaze lingering on yours, something soft and knowing in her expression, she realized you both were in trouble.
in deeper than either of you would admit.
“Forget about you? Please, never.” You joked, bumping her shoulder with yours. Truth was, you couldn’t even dream of forgetting about her.
Abby humed, tilting her head to the side. Her braid following her small movement. “You say that now, but you haven’t even bothered to check in for almost three weeks.” There was tease lilt to her tone, but a small part of her was beginning to wonder if maybe you’d decided she wasn’t worth the trouble after all. Trying to push that past relationship troubles take over.
“Really?” You furrowed your eyebrows, thinking back to how long it had actually been. It clicked She was…counting? Regardless she was right. yes, it had been awhile. “Oh… shit, I’m sorry, Abs. Got busy, I guess?” You rubbed your arm, glancing over at her. It was a weak statement but it’s all you could mutter out.
Abby rolled her eyes, nudging you with her knee. “Busy, huh? Couldn’t even leave a note or something?” She gave you a pointed look, pouting dramatically. “Im offended.” But as she took in your sheepish expression, her gaze softened. Her bottom lip out.
“Hey! Don’t do that. You’re a horrible communicator too, and you know it,” you chuckled, reaching out to tilt her face toward you with a finger under her chin. Scanning over the new scar on the side of her cheek.
Abby scoffed, still faking offense. “Oh, so now it’s my fault, huh?”
She smirked as your fingers gently lifted her chin, her eyes meeting yours. A familiar spark flickered between you, something that felt like it was always standing behind you. Looming.
You nodded jokingly, scanning her face again. “Mhm. I’m soo not taking accountability here.”
Abby rolled her eyes again, but there was a mischievous glint in them. She pouted again, though this time it was clearly more playful than serious. “Oh really? I see how it is.” She leaned into your touch, her voice much quieter than before. Fingers twitching to reach over and hold you more.
You chuckled, brushing a few loose strands of hair behind her ear before cupping her face. “Oh Yeah? You do?”
Abby’s teasing melted away the moment your hands settled on her skin. Your touch was too gentle, too easy, and it sent a shiver down her spine. She knew she should keep things light, keep up the playful air, but the way you were looking at her? Like she meant something? It was fucking terrifying. You always looked at her like that, always.
“Earth to Andersonnnn,” you teased, your thumb caressing over her cheek. Eyes on hers, like you were trying to read her thoughts.
Abby blinked, cheeks tinged with a rush of heat. She let out a small laugh, shaking her head. “Sorry, got lost in thought for a second.” Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment, savoring the feel of your touch. It felt too natural. Too safe.
“I see that,” you hummed, shifting along the couch until you settled onto her lap, resting on her thighs. “Whatcha thinking about, hm?”
Abby’s hands instinctively found your hips, her grip firm but careful. The warmth of you against her sent a flood of emotions rushing through her. Ones she’d been trying to ignore for weeks, months. Ever since you first kissed her if she being completely honest with herself. Your arms around her neck, the soft sigh you let out. it wouldn’t leave her, ever.
She exhaled, her fingers absentmindedly skimming the hem of your shirt. “Nothing. Just… stuff.”
“Stuff,” you repeated, unconvinced. You sighed, resting your face in the crook of her neck, inhaling the familiar scent of pine. “I’m sorry I didn’t stop by sooner. But I… I thought about you.” Your voice was quieter now. “I promise.”
Abby’s breath caught as you nuzzled closer, her fingers tracing lazy circles along your back. She closed her eyes, relishing in your warmth, in the steady rhythm of your heartbeat against her. Worried hers was loud enough for you to hear.
“I thought about you too,” she admitted, barely above a hush. More than she should have. More than she wanted to. But admitting that meant something, and she wasn’t sure she was ready to face what that was. It screamed at her, little did she know it was mutual annoyance. That nagging to just face what was happening, like taking the sun away from a blooming flower. Forcing the petals to stay shut. She swallowed hard, gripping your waist just a little tighter.
“No, Abs… like, really missed you.” You sighed, pressing a small kiss to her shoulder before leaning back to meet her eyes. “Like more… than I should.”
Abby’s heart thumped at your words. She averted her gaze, trying to shove down the overwhelming feeling creeping up her throat. But when she felt your lips against her skin, her resolve broke. She looked at you then. really looked at you. That look you’d always given her whether you knew you were doing it or not. Your face, so open, so…unguarded. A expression she hadn’t yet memorized.
“More than you should?” she echoed, voice barely above a whisper.
You sighed, tilting your head back to stare at the ceiling. A thousand words wanted to spill but the only one you let fall was..
“Yeah.”
A long silence stretched between you, those heavy with unspoken words.
The warm of her fingers traced slow invisible patterns along your waist, her thoughts a whirlwind of emotions she didn’t know how to name. Or if she should. She took a deep breath, exhaling shakily before finally admitting, “I… I’ve missed you too. More than I should.”
You glanced back down at her, a small sigh of relief escaping your lips. “Not just me then?” you murmured, resting your forehead against hers, feeling the warmth of her breath against your skin.“Good… I feel better about that.”
Abby closed her eyes, savoring the weight of you against her, the way your fingers danced along her arm like this was something much more. “No, not just you,” she murmured, her voice softer now. She opened her eyes, searching your face for something. reassurance, maybe. A sign that this wasn’t just in her head.
You chuckled, running a hand along her arm. “I mean, you are so cute. How could I not think about your stupid face?”
Abby let out a short laugh, swatting at your arm. The tension eased just slightly. “Oh, you’re one to talk, Miss ’Too Busy to Check In,’” she teased.
“Oh, shut up! Now I’ll find you every day just to spite you. How’s that?” You grinned, tilting her face up once more, Faces much closer than before.
Abby huffed, pretending to be put off, but her heart was hammering against her ribs. “You better. I’ll be waiting for it. Every single time. No pressure, though.” She smiled, raising an eyebrow at you as your hands cupped her face. “Oh? And what else? Gonna bring me flowers too?”
You scoffed, arching a brow back at her. “Oh? What kind of flowers would Miss Anderson want?”
She pretended to think about it, tapping her chin before grinning. “Lilies. The white ones.”
You let out a soft laugh. “Lilies? That’s real romantic, Abby.” you hummed. “But I like the idea. It’s a deal then. ilies for your time.”
Abby chuckled, playfully swatting your arm. “Oh, so now it’s a trade? Fine, You’ve got yourself a deal.” Her fingers idly traced the back of your neck as she softened, her gaze stamped on yours.
“Good. You don’t have a choice anyway.” You leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper. “Now, can I kiss you, or are we just gonna flirt until the sun comes up?”
Abby pretended to think about it, her fingers still playing with the hem of your shirt. “Hmm… such a hard choice.” She whispered back, but the hunger in her eyes betrayed her.
Shout out to my
Quirky black girls
Tall black girls
Short black girls
Fair skinned black girls
Light skinned black girls
Dark skinned black girls
Fun sized black girls
Ivy League black girls
Community college black girls
Hippie black girls
Trans black girls
Queer black girls
Nerd black girls
Alternative black girls
Black girls with disabilities Blck girls with mental health issues Indie black girls
Afrocentric black girls
Curly haired black girls
Short haired black girls
Long haired black girls
Straight haired black girls
Black girls with piercings
Black girls with colored hair
Black girls who love to read
Black girls who play instruments
Black girls who are scholars
Black girls who like ballet
Black girls who like to twerk
Black girls who like rap
Black girls who like art
Black girls who like classical music
To all black girls who refuse to be subjected to prejudices and forced into a mold. I love you.
🌼 TY to @0h-basic for the post, this one’s for you pookie!
Mlist + (Note! this is farm life bc I love peaceful Abby)
You’d had your eyes closed for at least two minutes now. God, she was such a cornball sometimes, but you loved it. When you first told Abby how you felt, she hadn’t let you in so easily. Now, months later, you both had this silent competition of small gestures.
“Abs… can I open yet?” you asked, growing restless.
“No.” She dragged out the word in that soft, teasing tone of hers.
You sighed, resisting the urge to peek when you heard rustling a few feet behind you. But you knew better.
Abby always knew you had a thing for her hair, even if you never said it outright. Your fingers always found their way to her scalp, braiding it in the mornings while sitting on the sink, or that one time you washed it for her, the warm water and your hands soothing her in a way she’d never admit. So naturally, things started to slip.
Suddenly, her arms were too tired to redo her braid.
Or she’d just happen to find you in the bathroom while you were doing your hair, silently putting herself next in line. It was adorable, but you knew better than to tease her; privileges like that could be revoked.
For several moments, there was silence. You could hear her footsteps echoing faintly, circling you. Then, suddenly, you felt her presence directly behind you. Her breath was warm against your neck.
“Still got your eyes closed?” She asked.
“Yes, I didn’t peek.” You replied.
She hummed, enjoying the anticipation in your voice. Her hands found your shoulders, her touch surprisingly gentle. She leaned in, her lips barely brushing your ear as she spoke.
“Good. Now, hold out your hand. Palm up.”
You obeyed, and she took your hand, making your heart flutter. Then, something light and soft was placed in your palm. a small, hand-picked bundle of flowers. White daisies.
“You can open your eyes now.”
When your eyelids fluttered open, your chest tightened with affection.
“Oh my god, you are such a dork. It’s so cute.”
You glanced from the flowers to her face, unable to help the smile spreading across yours.
“You are adorable.”
Abby’s ears tinged pink. Adorable wasn’t a word people used for her, but coming from you, it made her heart stutter. She stepped closer, blue eyes locked onto yours.
“Adorable, huh? First time anyone’s called me that.”
You plucked a daisy from the bundle and tucked it into her hair, gently pushing a loose strand behind her ear.
“Well, you definitely are.”
Abby huffed out a soft laugh, shaking her head like she was trying to play it cool, but you could see the way her pink lips twitched like she was fighting a smile.
“You… gonna admire me all day, or are we finishing these chores?” she teased, nudging your arm before stepping past you.
Right. Chores.
The two of you had spent the morning working around the land—hauling feed, fixing up the fence near the barn, and doing whatever odd jobs needed to be done. It was hot, the midday sun beating down, and both of you were due for a break. So when Abby sat down in the shade beneath a tree, stretching her long legs out in front of her, you took it as an invitation to sit beside her.
The breeze was warm but gentle, carrying the scent of summer grass and earth. Your gaze flickered to Abby’s hair, golden brown strands messy from work, a few loose pieces sticking to her damp skin. Without thinking, your fingers twitched toward them.
“Can I?” you asked softly.
Abby cracked an eye open, already knowing what you meant. She let out a dramatic sigh, one that didn’t match the way she immediately turned her head toward you, giving you full access.
“If you must.”
You grinned, gathering another small flower from the grass beside you. Then another. And another.
As you started tucking them into her braid, Abby tilted her head, a smirk playing on her lips.
“You know, for someone who calls me a dork…”
“Hush and Hold still,” you murmured, carefully tucking another daisy into Abby’s braid.
She huffed but didn’t move, her head resting against the tree trunk. The warmth of the sun, the steady rhythm of your hands, the weight of an easy silence between you, it all felt nice. Comfortable in a way Abby wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to. You leaned back to admire your work, smiling at the sight of her golden strands woven with tiny white flowers, her face relaxed in a way you didn’t see often.
“There. Perfect,” you said, brushing a stray lock behind her ear.
Abby cracked an eye open, eyebrow raising. “You sure you didn’t just do this to make me look ridiculous?”
You scoffed, nudging her knee with yours. “No, you look cute. Really cute.”
She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. Didn’t push your hand away when you reached up, fingers gently threading through the loose strands framing her face.
For a moment, neither of you said anything. The breeze ruffled the trees above, the distant sounds of birds and the occasional rustling from the barn filling the space where words could’ve been.
Then, finally, Abby sighed.
“Y’know,” she muttered, voice quieter now, “if you wanted an excuse to play with my hair, you could’ve just asked.”
“Oh? Is that an open invitation?” Your lips curled into a grin.
She shook her head, but there was no real protest in it. Just the ghost of a smirk, her fingers absentmindedly toying with the hem of your shirt as she muttered,
“Mm, yeah…I guess it is” she nodded, glancing at her braid, now layered in a sea of white petals and green stems. It felt like A daisy, for every ‘I love you’.
girlfriend!ellie who makes a move on reader who wears a lot of makeup (lipstick fixation) just to smudge it everywhere cause That's what her mouth do.. hungry kisser because once she locks lips she literally doesn't lock out. all that rules her mind is the feel of your lips smashing and slipping into hers.. she also doesn't wipe the color from hers afterwards! ughg.
*:ꔫ Disclaimer(s): GirlxGirl, pet names (Babe and baby), intoxication (kinda???), NO smut. (sorry, not sorry), fighting, short
Going to parties is something Abby wasn't particularly sure about but, when you practically begged her to come with you she couldn't say no.
Abby watches as you dance drunkenly with your friend in your cute, little, skimpy dress.
Some insecure people might not let their girlfriend go out looking the way you look. Personally, Abby didn't care. She loved people knowing they could never have what she's got.
But what did get her was when a man came up behind you touching on you. That made her blood boil. You immediately moved away from the man and looked around for Abby. The man kept pulling you and grinding on you trying to get you to dance on him.
'We got a problem?' she spoke up, snatching you away from the man.
'You can't just take her.' The man slurred 'We were dancing.' he was about to grab your shoulder but before he could Abby punched him dead in the jaw.
You gasped and covered your mouth as the men fell to the floor. Abby didn't care though. She grabbed your waist while still staring at the man.
'You could never.' she says with a disgusted look on her face.
Everyone in the room looked at the scene going on. People from all over the house started running over to see what was happening.
'You okay, baby?' she asked, rubbing your back up and down.
You nod frantically in disbelief. 'Im good, babe'
'Let's get out of here.' she walks away with you in her arm but, you stop her.
'Wait...' you say bending over holding your stomach in pain before throwing up on the floor in front of you.
Abby loved, loved, LOVED looking at you. Every time she looks at you she gets reminded how lucky she is to have someone like you.
She just really loved admiring you. It doesn't matter when or where, while you sleep, or while you talk. Her favorite part about it is watching you get flustered.
For example you were brushing your teeth when she came up behind you and hugged your torso. She lightly kissed you shoulder and started to stare at you through the mirror. You didn't notice until you spit your toothpaste out.
'What're you looking at?' you say smiling slightly embarrassed.
'You're just so beautiful.' she gives your neck a little peck
You roll your eyes, trying to hide the fact that you had butterflies in your stomach.
'God, Abby you are annoying.' you say jokingly
'Yeah?' she says, letting go of you.
'Yes!' you say turning around leaning back on the sink.
She chuckles before leaning forward, teasing you. 'Yet, you love it.'
'I do' You giggle before wrapping your arms around her neck and kissing her.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
A/N: I was feeling romantical also this isn't proofread
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