(⚠️: Brief mentions of virginity and sexual fantasies, Abby's a little cringe, Abby has a praise kink)
Part one, Part two, Part three
💭 Loser!Football Player!Abby who did not want to go to her football team's training camp.
It not only took away valuable study time as the team was distracted by the other members, but it was also because the cheerleaders came along as well for their own training camp, and Abby was very aware of how you'd said that at least ten of them wanted to sleep with her...
The practice you'd had together after the party, you had pulled her aside briefly and apologised for acting 'immature' and teasing her about her lack of experience... Abby didn't understand why- It wasn't like she was upset to begin with, if anything... She had kind of enjoyed it.
Now, since the apology... The both of you considered each other friends rather than acquaintances... Well, Abby considered you a friend and the girl who she had been crushing on for almost a year now- She had told Owen about her crush after you had called her your friend for the first time and he had immediately sighed before burying his face into his hands. Abby didn't understand why.
...
Now, she was sat beside you and in front of a campfire. This was a stupid training camp tradition and she never enjoyed it as it always ran past her bedtime... But, she had really, really liked it when you had seen her walking over and moved your hoodie from the space beside you onto your lap so she could sit there instead.
However... Ellie was on the other side of you and she had taken your entire attention away from Abby... Perfect.
Abby was seething as she watched the both of you speak, her thigh jumping up and down as she kept her legs manspread ever so slightly on the bench. She often wished that she had the social skills that other people possessed so that she could speak to you in the same way that she often saw others do.
Aka, without flushing red and stuttering a million times…
“Y’know… Your training has really payed off well, Abs.” Your voice suddenly sounded from beside her.
Abby looked away from the campfire at the sound of your voice, her face betraying her again as it heated up quickly at your words.
“W-What—?” Abby spluttered out. Another betrayal by her body.
You giggled, your hand making its way to her bicep, taking a firm handful of the muscle. “Your arms are looking insane at the moment…” You suddenly cooed, “Wow… You’re so strong, Abs…”
Abby stiffened, her bicep tensing under your hand as you casually groped it… She was speechless. This was a scenario she had never seen leaving her most secret fantasies that she had when she was alone… Often when she was having a cold shower after hitting the gym.
So, she did the one thing she never thought she'd actually do... Flexing her bicep for you- Causing you to gasp and clap your hands together.
Ellie laughed from where she was sat beside her, "Showing off for the cheerleaders, Anderson?" She reached behind you and slapped her back, "Hoping to get some before camp ends, I see."
Abby's cheeks heated up even more as her teammates jeered and teased her, her hands coming up to cover her face in embarrassment- Why had she done that? You probably thought she was such a dork...
Meanwhile, as you stared into the fire in the centre of the circle, you wondered why you'd just clapped when Abby flexed for you. Why didn't you compliment her? Why'd you lose your ability to speak at the sight of her muscles?
Despite overthinking everything, you still found the time to invite her to the cheer competition your squad were participating in once the moment had passed and everybody was returning to their cabins, of course, she accepted without hesitation... Why wouldn't she? You two were such good... Friends.
-she'd defo be protective over you, especially because you're not all entirely there 24/7
-can get a little impatient, but for the most part takes the time to break stuff down so you understand it
-gets surprisingly flustered when you sit on her lap in those miniskirts you love oh so much
-loves to just carry you places; sometimes she won't even ask before picking you up and slinging you over her shoulder (making sure to cover your ass with her free hand ofc)
-gets all pouty when you take super long to get ready
-has a folder in her camera roll of just fit checks you send her
-learned latte art and does it in your morning coffee so you can post it on your insta story
-saves every link to online stores you send her in her notes app just in case she runs out of her own ideas for gifts
-gets all giddy when you squeeze on her muscles and tell her how strong she is
-has you sit on her back to do pushups in your living room, biting back a smile at your giggling
ellie
-literally will buy you whatever. look at it and it’s yours
-loves how your silk pjs feel, she’ll literally rub your back just to feel the material
-does your hair for you and helps you out if you’re taking too long to get ready
-gets on one knee in public to re-fasten or re-tie your shoes for you, patting her thigh so you can put your foot up
-loves watching you get your nails done, she’ll sit in on your appointments just to look over the process
-draws you everywhere and anywhere she can (including on her wall)
-pretends to hate it but lives for when you kiss her and get lipstick marks on her
-went on a picnic with you and spent the entire time staring at you like you personally planted every flower in the feild while you gossiped to her
-loves hearing your drama but will deny it sosososo hard
-has a pink and purple dino plushie she named after you that she sleeps with
hey gysu so that fever actually kicked my ass and my writing was gibberish .... im back now tho !!!!!
⤷ ゛synopsis: ˎˊ˗ the room is full of noise, of motion, of fleeting company — but abby finds herself strangely tethered to you within it, as though some quiet and unseen force has placed you repeatedly in her path. She does not think to question it at first. and yet, as the night deepens, it becomes less a matter of chance than of something more persistent, more unsettlingly deliberate, as though even distance itself is yielding. (inspired by a moment you probably remember if you've played tlou)
⤷ ゛content warnings: ˎˊ˗ mutual pining, abby Anderson x femme reader, light intimacy; kissing, dancing etc. fluff, abby is very shy, loser!abby, flirty!reader.
The mess hall barely looks like itself tonight. Somebody dragged long tables against the walls to clear space in the center of the room, strings of salvaged Christmas lights hanging crooked between support beams overhead. Music crackles through old speakers with too much bass and not enough clarity, but nobody cares. Half the Wolves are drunk enough to dance anyway.
You linger near one of the support pillars at the edge of the room, a bottle of beer hanging loosely from your fingers. The drink had been thrust into your hand by someone whose face you'd already forgotten, its contents now lukewarm from neglect. Around you, the converted mess hall thrummed with life; music crackled through battered speakers, laughter rose above the noise in uneven bursts, and strings of scavenged lights cast pools of amber across the crowded room.
Across the hall, Abby was trying—and failing—not to look at you. Her gaze drifted back in your direction for what was probably the hundredth time that night, only to dart away the second Manny cleared his throat. A knowing grin spreading across his face.
"Looks like Cupid is working overtime tonight."
Abby's head snaps toward him. "The hell are you even talking about?" she scoffed, dragging her eyes away from where you'd been standing. "I'm literally just standing here."
Manny took another sip from his cup, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
"Yeah," he starts. "Like a fucking statue."
Abby’s brow pinched slightly, as if she was genuinely trying to find where the issue could possibly be.
“I don’t understand how me standing here is affecting you,” she quipped, glancing at her friend with a look that was meant to be flat and unimpressed — but didn’t quite hide the fact she was a little too aware of where her attention had been drifting.
He snorts into his cup, shifting his weight against the table behind him, "You've been staring at her all night."
A muscle jumped in her jaw, and abby had to fight the urge to roll her eyes. "Not this again."
She straightened, folding her arms tightly across her chest, physically barricading herself against the conversation. It would've been more convincing if her gaze hadn't already started wandering back across the room.
"Oh, you've got it bad."
Abby groaned, dropping her head for a brief second before dragging a hand down her face. "Can you please not do this right now?"
“Ah, so yes.” he tisks
she shoots him a glare sharp enough to cut skin, manny merely clicked his tongue.
"Mm." He nods to himself as though confirming a theory. "Yeah. That's what I thought."
“Whatever,” she mutters, already turning half away from him as if ending the conversation physically might make the whole thing dissapear.
She should walk away. She knows she should. There are a dozen places she could be — somewhere quieter, somewhere that didn’t make her hyperaware of every direction her eyes kept going. instead, like an idiot, her thoughts drifts back toward you anyway. You’re laughing at something Nora said, head tipped back, fingers curled around the neck of the bottle. The overhead lights catch and fracture across your face whenever you move, softening the edges of you in a way that feels unfairly distracting. Abby feels hot all over.
At some point it has to get humiliating. She’s dealt with infected swarms without breaking a sweat, seraphites, scar ambushes. Isaac himself staring her down across briefing tables. None of that makes her feel half as panicked as you grinning at her from across a room. Because then you notice her looking. And smile wider.
Manny groans beside her. “Oh my God, go talk to her.”
Abby scoffs “I talk to her all the time.”
That isn't even a lie. She does talks to you… sometimes. Usually after spending fifteen long minutes rehearsing a perfectly average sentence in her head beforehand. Unfortuly for her, most of the time manny is the first hand witness of her putting her shoe in her mouth.
"No," he starts. "You stare at her silently during training and act like you're being held hostage whenever she speaks to you."
“Fuck off.”
The laugh her friend lets out is entirely undeserved.
“That is actually everybody’s understanding of your relationship, you know that right?”
She feels heat creeping up the back of her neck. For a brief, horrifying moment, she wonders if he's right. If she's somehow been making a fool of herself for months without realizing it. If all those times she'd looked up during training and found you already looking at her had been witnessed by half the stadium.
She shoves at Manny's shoulder before he can say anything else, but he barely budges.
“You’re so annoying.”
“And you are head over heels.”
Abby opens her mouth, already reaching for another argument. Something about Manny being dramatic. About how this entire conversation is ridiculous. About how she can have a normal interaction with a person without everybody acting like she's sixteen.
But the words never make it out, because you start walking in their direction. Not in their general direction. Directly toward them. Towards her.
She feels her stomach drop.
"Oh," Manny grins, spotting you a second before she fully processes what's happening. "Well, would you look at that."
Abby shoots him a warning glance which he completely ignores.
"Looks like Cupid finally landed a shot."
"Manny." He raises both hands in surrender, already backing away. "Good luck, pendeja."
"Manny—" but the coward is gone before she can grab him, disappearing into the crowd with the unmistakable swagger of a man who knows exactly what he's done. She breifly starts to consider hunting him down before you stop infront of her, and every coherent thought leaves at once.
There's an amused smile already tugging at the corners of your mouth.
"You look like you've seen a ghost," you say as a form of greeting, your words arriving wrapped in laughter, and Abby thinks, absurdly, she could pick that sound out from the far end of a crowded stadium.
She blinks once, then again. There’s still a faint tension in the way she holds herself, something unspent and uncertain, even as her attention settles—unmistakably—on you.
“I’m just—” she starts, then exhales through her nose. Sixteen year olds could do better than this. “I’m fine.” The lie is so transparent it almost circles back around to sincerity.
Your gaze doesn’t leave her while you drink, the motion unhurried, almost thoughtful, like you’re giving her the dignity of being observed without judgment.
“that so?” you ask lightly. “cause' it doesn't seem like it.”
“Yeah?” A quiet laugh slips out of her, more air than sound, “Tell me why you think that.”
Her voice dips a little as she speaks, not quite challenging, not quite inviting, but somewhere caught between the two. She leans forward a fraction without seeming to notice she’s done it. You don’t move away from her. If anything, you drift in just slightly, hands folding loosely behind your back.
“Hmm,” you hum, pretending to think it over. “Maybe it’s the fact you’ve been glaring at me all night.”
There's a playfulness in your tone, but Abby's stomach drops anyway. Until now, she hadn't considered how it might have looked from your side. Getting caught staring was embarrassing enough. The possibility that you'd mistaken it for something else entirely—annoyance, irritation, a glare—had never even crossed her mind.
People have told her before that she can come across a little intense or abrupt. More intimidating than she means to be… It's part of the reason she makes such a conscious effort to soften herself around others; to be patient, quiet when quiet is needed, gentle where she can be.
And she'd come tonight determined to seem normal. Well. Mostly normal. The truth is, she'd shown up hoping to see you, which makes the idea that she might have spent the entire evening accidentally staring you down feel almost catastrophically unfair. Good job, Abby.
“I wasn’t— I mean, I didn’t mean it like that.” Her shoulders tighten a touch, the flirtation slipping just slightly into panic.
“sorry,” she adds quickly, lower now. “guess i should work on that.”
You blink up at her for a second, then a quiet laugh slips out of you before you can catch it. It fades just as quickly, leaving her briefly looking somewhere between composed and not entirely sure she ever was.
“Relax,” you reassure, the tension dissolving back into warmth as easily as it formed. “I’m just messing with you.”
There’s something disarming about the ease of your attention. The way you hold her gaze like it isn’t a challenge to withstand. You take a sip from your drink again, still watching her. “Manny bothering you?”
At your mention of Manny, she huffs faintly, the sound carrying a hint of fond exasperation. “He bothers everybody.”
“mhh,” you agree “True.”
For a second, neither of you says anything. The music changes songs. Something rhythmic enough that people start whispering in approval. Somebody bumps into Abby’s shoulder from behind and she shifts automatically closer to you to make room. Close enough now that she catches the smell of soap on your skin beneath the alcohol and sweat and crowded room heat. It completely ruins her ability to think.
“You having fun?” you question, leaning closer so your voice can carry over the music.
“I am.” then, honest before she can stop herself, “More now.”
Your eyebrows lift slightly and Abby could just smack herself. Smooth. Real fucking smooth. But then she thinks she sees the tips of your ears turn red, though she’s not entirely convinced she isn’t imagining it.
“yeah? i think i am too — more now.” you repeat, smiling at her in a way that makes Abby wonder if you're aware of the disarming effect you have on people. she finds herself wishing she knew what was going on inside your head at moments like this.
something about the look you give her sends her thoughts scattering in half a dozen different directions. It shouldn’t mean anything, and it probably doesn’t. But Abby still goes quiet, replaying your words with a kind of careful attention people don't usually give to the things they're trying to ignore.
You glance toward the growing crowd gathering at the center of the room. A few Wolves have already abandoned any concern for dignity, moving with the reckless confidence of people who have had way too much alcohol. She follows your gaze for a moment, grateful for the distraction.
When your eyes return to hers, there's a brief flash of something bright in them— Anticipation, maybe. Amusement? Whatever it is, it's gone almost as quickly as it appeared.
"C'mon."
Abby straightens slightly, caught off guard. “wha-”
“Dance with me.”
A breath of laughter threatens to escape her. The idea is so unexpected, so wildly at odds with what she'd allowed herself to hope for, that for a second she can only stare at you. And then, unhelpfully, her mind supplies the image of you standing close enough to touch.
“I—um,” she stutters, all at once aware of her own heartbeat. “I can't dance.”
You tilt your head, something faintly amused settling into your expression as if she’s just confirmed a guess you already had, voice easing into a lighter tone without you seeming aware of it.
“you can't or you won't?”
Abby huffs a quiet breath through her nose.
“…normally i don't”
You step closer anyway, reaching for her wrist before she can argue again. “Then this’ll be your first time.” Your hand around her arm nearly short-circuits her brain, but she lets you pull her into the crowd without resistance.
The crowd has thickened around the makeshift dance floor, people drifting toward the music almost unconsciously as the night goes on. Conversation still threads easily through the room, though it now tends to happen at closer distances, words exchanged near ears and shoulders rather than across tables.
Abby is discovering that dancing with you presents a problem she had already anticipated. Namely, that she has become acutely aware of every inch separating the two of you. Or, more accurately, how little of it there is.
You giggle quietly at the way she's standing, shoulders squared as though she's preparing for a briefing rather than a dance, and reach for both her hands. “Relax, Anderson,” you say, guiding them to your waist.
The warmth of you beneath her palms is intoxicating.
“I am relaxed.”
“sure you are.” You sway slightly with the music, one brow lifting. “You look like you're preparing for combat.”
Abby snorts out a laugh. “Full transparency— I don't really know what I'm supposed to do.”
“Just move.”
“That easy, huh?”
Your eyes crease at the corners. “My honest opinion? you’re overthinking it way too much, Anderson.”
Maybe. Abby has spent the last several minutes devoting an unreasonable amount of attention to things most people seem capable of navigating instinctively: where her hands should go, whether she's standing too close, whether she's standing too far away, whether you're aware of the effect you're having on her.
Her hands settle more naturally at your waist after a while, though caution still lingers in the gesture. You don't seem to notice—or if you do, you don't comment on it. Instead, you drift a little closer, following the rhythm without much thought.
Around you, the room carries on as it always does, crowded and warm and full of life, but Abby's awareness has narrowed to a far smaller orbit. The faintest freckles on your face, the smell of your hair, the impossible fact that, for once, she doesn't have to imagine what it would feel like to be this close to you.
You tip your head back to look at her. “See?” you coo. “You're getting it.”
Abby glances away.
“I think you're just drunk.”
One of your brows lifts. “That's your explanation?”
“It's the most reasonable one."
The laugh comes quickly, without restraint.
“Abby.”
Something in the way you say her name makes her stomach tighten. She stops thinking about what she was going to say next and registers instead that you’re looking directly at her.
“I'm completely sober.”
Her mind tries to adjust too quickly, catching on the realization that she may have misunderstood something fundamental. It doesn’t organize itself into anything coherent fast enough to respond properly. So she doesn’t.
“Oh.”
You stare at her questioningly for a moment, then your eyes narrow slightly.
“Wait.” The corners of your mouth twitch. “Did you seriously think I'd need alcohol to want to dance with you?”
God. There is no correct answer to that question. Abby can feel herself walking directly into a trap and somehow walks straight into it anyway.
“No- of course not….” a beat. “Maybe.”
Is she wrong, though?
The thought arrives almost unbidden, she cannot quite construct a version of reality in which you would willingly choose this—choose her, choose proximity that feels deliberate rather than incidental. There is closeness, yes, there has always been closeness, but not like this, not with the kind of ease that now unsettles her attempts at interpretation.
It leaves her suspended between recognition and refusal, uncertain whether she has overstepped some invisible boundary or simply misread the moment entirely.
You break the silence first, exhaling softly.
“Well, that’s honestly kinda insulting,” you comment, the line delivered with an ease that undercuts any real offense.
Abby looks down at you, still trying to reconcile the shift in tone.
“Why?”
There’s no hesitation in your answer, only a brief, incredulous clarity, as though the idea itself is difficult to take seriously.
“Because it implies I’d need chemical assistance to ask a pretty girl to dance.”
Warmth blooms beneath her skin with alarming speed, climbing into her face, settling somewhere behind her ribs. She becomes acutely aware of your hands, your proximity, the fact that you are still looking at her expectantly while her thoughts attempt, unsuccessfully, to reorganize themselves. Surely that couldn't have meant what it sounded like. Equally surely, she cannot think of another explanation.
The room feels warmer the longer this goes on. Music vibrating through the floorboards. People shouting and laughing around you. Somebody spinning recklessly nearby you. But Abby barely notices any of it anymore.
“You know,” you add after a moment, your voice pitched low. Abby has heard you speak a thousand times before. Across training fields. During patrols. Half-lost beneath the noise of rowdy mess halls. She does not recall ever hearing you sound quite like this.
“if you're going to spend the whole night staring at me, you can't really blame me for doing something about it.”
She nearly chokes on the words, registering them in full a fraction before she is able to respond. She becomes sharply aware, in a way she cannot un-feel, of how long she has been noticing you without meaning to make it obvious, and how impossible it is now to pretend otherwise while you are still standing there watching her notice it.
She has been caught. Thoroughly. The realization must show on her face, because you catch it immediately.
"Hey,” you soften.
Your hands shift along her forearms, a small upward movement that causes goosebumps to follow the contact.
“Don’t worry.” Abby looks at you. “Would’ve been embarrassing if I was the only one.”
This can’t be happening. She keeps waiting for the moment she gets jolted out of it—some sharp interruption, one of the others from her bunk calling her name perhaps, wake up abby. But no such moment comes, and you remain entirely real in front of her, and oh, she can’t stop thinking about how soft your skin feels where she's still holding you. the room feels fuzzy and warm, and she thinks she shouldn't jump to conclusions despite how clear it may seem, to preserve her heart.
“You…” Abby swallows once. “did you need something?”
You give her a look.
“Abby,” you say, almost disoriented. “Seriously?”
In hindsight, maybe it should’ve been obvious. Manny is for sure never going to let her live this down. You’re smiling tentatively at her when your fingers curl lightly at the back of her neck, gentle, careful, as if you’re waiting for her to pull away even though she would never dream of it. And then she notices the faint tremor in your hand, the small inconsistencies in your steadiness, every subtle sign that you might be just as affected by this as she is.
"sorry" her eyes dart to your mouth, then away again "i'm not very good at this"
For a moment, you simply look at her with a kind of fondness that catches Abby off guard simply because it is directed at her.
“Can i kiss you?” you ask suddenly.
She almost falls to her knees right there before you. You ask it so simply, as though you have not just handed her the answer to every selfish thought she has spent months trying not to entertain. Abby Anderson — built like a tank, terrifying in combat, emotionally constipated beyond repair — suddenly feels nervous.
"You really need permission?"
There is a faint challenge in it, which isn't an answer. It is, however, the closest thing to one she is capable of producing.
Your hands slide from her forearms without breaking contact, There’s no rush to it, just a steady glide as your fingers trace the line of her arms before settling to gently cup her face, anchoring her there. You lean in close enough that your breath brushes her, close enough that she can feel the faint movement of your lips when you speak.
“Just making sure,” you breathe.
And then you kiss her, and your lips are softer than anything she has ever managed to think her way toward, every imagined version of this falling away the moment it becomes real, leaving only the present of it. Your hands slide into her hair instantly, drawing her closer while the room blurs around you completely. Abby kisses you like she’s been thinking about it for months — because she has — warm and breathless and a little desperate because god she needed this, needed you.
She feels you smile against her lips, giddiness bubbling in her chest at the realization that this is actually happening, until she finds herself smiling into the kiss as well.
When you finally pull apart, Abby keeps her forehead pressed firmly to yours, both of you breathing hard. Somewhere nearby, someone lets out an obnoxious whistle— probably Manny.
“Think your friends saw that?” you ask lowly.
Abby can't look away from you. “Don’t care.”
Before you can tease her about it, she’s kissing you again, like nothing else matters.
Loser!Abby who definitely tries way too hard to not be awkward and weird around you and ends up being way more awkward and weird than she usually is and then effectively focuses on trying to be normal so hard she doesn't even notice when you flirt with her.
synopsis: abby was perfectly fine with a college life built around classes and the occasional hangout with friends, until everything shifted the moment your eyes met hers. from that second on, you didn’t hold back. you were set on making her your precious possession.
cw: college au, reader is fem presenting, reader is a walking red flag, alcohol, drugs, manipulation, abby being adorable, not proofread
One of the first things Abby picked up when she stepped onto campus for her first day was your name. Right from the start, she heard all kinds of rumors floating around about you. Most weren’t bad. A lot of the people she talked to weren’t exactly in your circle, but somehow, everyone knew who you were. And her classmates would say you weren’t as bad as the rest of your crew.
Having been accepted into one of the most exclusive universities in the country, Abby knew exactly what kind of people she would be forced to deal with for the next few years. The campus was crowded with boys showing off their luxury cars in the parking lot and girls parading around in designer clothes and handbags that cost more than a year of tuition. She knew that getting involved with those kinds of people would always cause trouble, so after listening to her seniors’ advice and following the steps of every other student who didn’t belong in that world, she decided to keep her distance, content to judge them from afar.
And among all those spoiled rich kids, there was your group. And because fate apparently loved to play games with her life, she was now on her way to your house to work on a group project with you and two of your friends. She remembered perfectly the moment when the professor had called her name together with yours. Her heart had started beating so fast that she thought she might have a heart attack right there in the classroom. And when she glanced your way and your eyes met, she could’ve sworn she caught a quick smirk on your lips before you turned back to your friends.
Abby really tried not to feel anything for you. But like the overwhelming majority of the campus, she wasn’t immune to your charms. She didn’t know exactly when it had started, but without realizing it, she had memorized your schedule. In her free time, Abby would watch you from a distance. She saw you interacting with your obnoxious friends, observed you during the few classes you shared, and went to the same coffee shop every day just to catch a glimpse of you before her day began. Still, she never had the courage to actually talk to you, which was why she now found herself a bundle of nerves.
Abby didn’t know what to expect. You seemed far too friendly in the brief messages you two had exchanged. The other girls in the group hadn’t even bothered to check the messages, let alone reply. Abby had suggested working in the library, but you quickly dismissed the idea, saying they needed a more private place where they could really dive into the project. You suggested your house, and before she could protest, you had already sent your address.
She would be lying if she said she hadn’t felt nervous during the entire conversation. She felt a little silly about it, but there was something in the way you worded things that revealed how self-assured you were and how much you expected everyone to follow your lead. For some reason, that only made her feel more drawn to you.
After her entrance was approved, Abby drove through the gates of the mansion, and for an instant her stomach turned. The entrance was imposing, lined with perfectly manicured gardens and an elegant fountain in the center that looked like it belonged in an architecture magazine. Exterior lights illuminated the modern facade, all clean lines and enormous glass windows reflecting the blue sky. The iron gates closed silently behind her as she drove along the long paved driveway, finally parking in a reserved area already filled with luxury cars.
Abby took a deep breath, turned off the engine, and for a moment simply stared at the mansion. It was impossible not to feel small in front of such grandeur. The details of the facade blended modernity with elegance, and everything seemed calculated to impress. She climbed the steps to the entrance and, with a slightly trembling hand, rang the bell.
It wasn’t you who opened the door, but one of the girls from the group. Her smile was brief and devoid of enthusiasm, more formality than welcome. She muttered that Abby had finally arrived, told her to close the door behind her, and to follow. Abby did as she was told, trying to ignore the sting of discomfort that the indifferent reception caused.
The interior of the mansion was even more impressive than the facade. The entry hall opened into a vast space with a crystal chandelier hanging from the high ceiling and walls decorated with contemporary art. The polished marble floors reflected the soft lighting, and a subtle scent hung in the air, expensive and sophisticated, though Abby couldn’t place it. As they walked through the corridors, she noticed details that spoke of understated luxury: alcoves with sculptures, vases of fresh flowers, fine rugs placed strategically on the floor. It was like walking through the pages of a design magazine.
When they reached the living room, Abby noticed how everything seemed designed to convey perfection. Immaculate white sofas, elegant curtains flowing down to the floor, a modern fireplace lit purely for aesthetics, and a glass coffee table decorated with bottles of whiskey, crystal glasses, and snacks. And there you were, sitting on one of the sofas as if you belonged to the décor itself, your gestures and posture so naturally elegant they seemed rehearsed.
“You finally made it.” you said, your lips curving into a mischievous smile for a fraction of a second before softening into something friendly. The change would have gone unnoticed if Abby hadn’t been paying attention, but the playful gleam in your eyes betrayed that it hadn’t been her imagination. “I thought you’d ditched us.”
Abby swallowed hard as all eyes turned toward her. She lingered by the entrance to the living room, aware of how her simple jeans, basic shirt, and old jacket clashed with the branded clothes and expensive accessories around her. Her glasses only made her feel more out of place. But even as part of her knew she didn’t belong in that world of wealth and confidence, the discomfort felt distant. None of it really mattered, because all her attention was on you. You were the center of everything. You were the reason she was there, the one she wanted to impress more than anything.
“I’m sorry. It was kind of hard to find your house.” Abby’s voice was low and rushed, her fingers fiddling with the hem of her jacket as if that could contain her nerves. She tried not to look away from you, but her heart was pounding so hard it echoed in her ears. The silence that followed seemed endless, and she held her breath, waiting for your response.
You tilted your head slightly, as though analyzing every detail of her. Your gaze slid slowly down her hesitant posture, her plain clothes that contrasted with the luxurious setting, and then back to her face. When it returned, a small smile formed on your lips, and Abby had the strange feeling that she was being measured and, somehow, approved.
“Yeah, my mom likes her privacy.” you answered calmly, crossing one leg over the other and resting an arm casually along the back of the sofa. Your voice was so steady and natural that Abby shrank a little inside, as if her own insecurity had just been laid bare. Yet, at the same time, there was an unexpected warmth in hearing you speak to her directly, a simple detail that made all the discomfort worthwhile.
“Who are you again?” one of your friends asked, frowning at her as he lounged lazily on the sofa.
“Abby Anderson.” you replied before she could, smiling as if her name tasted sweet in your mouth. And even though you were answering your friend, your eyes never left hers. The way your lips moved with each syllable seemed intentional, and Abby almost forgot to breathe, as if hearing her name in your voice was something extraordinary. “Don’t mind him. He’s high.”
“I’m only here for the free food.” he laughed, raising his joint in a mock toast. His laughter echoed through the room, clashing with the uncomfortable silence surrounding Abby.
She tried not to grimace as he took another drag from his joint. The heavy mix of weed and alcohol lingered in the air, oppressive and unpleasant. Abby’s sensitive nose recoiled, but she forced herself to hold a polite, if awkward, smile.
Even if she tried to mask it, her discomfort was clear. But deep down, there was a strange satisfaction in realizing that her eyes still didn’t leave you. You chuckled softly at your friend’s remark and nudged his leg lightly with your own. “Go to the kitchen then.” Your tone was light and playful, but he laughed idiotically again, clearly not grasping the hint.
Abby blinked quickly, trying to process the scene, and for a moment she was struck by the effortless authority in your presence. You hadn’t raised your voice or shown irritation. A command disguised as a joke had been enough for everyone to understand what you meant. The contrast between your calm authority and your carefree smile sent a shiver down Abby’s spine.
Noticing he hadn’t taken the hint, you leaned in slightly, your smile still in place, and nudged his leg again. Your eyes narrowed just a little, and Abby caught the flash of authority hidden behind your charm. “Now.” you said softly, low enough that only he could hear.
The shift was instant. As if suddenly deciphering your expression, he stood quickly, stumbling slightly to the side. Abby’s eyes followed him out of instinct, but all she could really think about was you. The calm steadiness of your voice, the subtlety of your smile, the quiet authority in your every move.
Before leaving the room, he grabbed a bottle of expensive whiskey from the table and staggered off toward the kitchen. Abby let out a barely audible sigh without realizing it. She was nervous, yes, but more than that, she was spellbound. All she could think about was how you seemed to command the room effortlessly, and how badly she wanted to be worthy of your approval.
“Let’s go to the balcony. The weather is far too nice to stay indoors.” you said, rising gracefully. Your tone sounded like a suggestion, but your voice carried the natural authority of someone used to being followed.
“They’re not coming with us?” Abby asked, gesturing subtly toward your friends, who were still glued to their phones. There was caution in her tone, but also genuine curiosity.
You let out a small laugh. “We have a better chance at getting an A if they don’t help with the project.”
Abby raised her brows slightly, surprised at the blunt honesty. You leaned in as if sharing a private joke. “Trust me, it’s a miracle they can even spell their own names.”
One of your friends burst out laughing without looking up from her screen. The other pouted before holding up her phone. “Who cares? I just hit two million followers on Instagram.”
You didn’t hesitate. You reached over and gave her hand a quick squeeze like a little reward. “Seriously? That’s awesome! Congrats, babe.”
That was all it took to erase the pout from her lips, her face lighting up with pride at your approval. “Come on, let’s go outside.” you said, and Abby followed without thinking, as if the simple act of going with you was the most natural thing in the world.
On the balcony, the fresh air brought Abby some relief. She breathed deeply and, as she opened her bag to take out her notebook, she no longer felt as nervous. This was her territory, the place where she felt secure: among ideas, notes, and pages filled with her effort.
“I started writing the first part of the project.” she said, her voice now firm, her gaze meeting yours with more confidence. “I hope you don’t mind. It’s one of my favorite subjects.”
You arched a brow, intrigued. “Not at all. Can I read it?”
“Of course.” Abby handed over the pages, her fingers brushing yours lightly as you took the notebook. Inside, her heart still raced, but this time with expectation. She wanted to see your reaction, wanted you to notice that she had value.
As you read, your eyes moved slowly over each line, and Abby studied your expression with rapt attention. The tension in her shoulders began to ease when she saw your brows lift slightly, as though you were genuinely impressed.
“This is really great, Abby.” you said, finally looking up from the page. Your smile was quick, a little crooked, but warm and the spark in your eyes said it wasn’t just you being polite.
A quiet sense of pride rose in her chest. “Really? You don’t think it’s too surface-level? I mean… if you want, we can start fresh.”
You shook your head right away, still clutching the notebook like it was something special. “No way. This is perfect. Honestly, I don’t think I could’ve pulled it off this well.”
Abby smiled back, and this time it wasn’t timid. There was satisfaction there, almost vanity. For the first time that afternoon, she didn’t feel out of place. On the contrary, she felt seen.
You kept the notebook in your hands a moment longer before setting it aside, your eyes never leaving hers. A slow smile curved across your lips. “Let’s work. I should make myself useful now.”
Abby’s heart raced again, but differently this time. It wasn’t nerves; it was the sweet taste of the approval she had longed for.
You both started working on the project. Each focused on her own part, but every so often, you could feel Abby’s gaze on you. Quick, almost shy glances, but insistent, as if she couldn’t help checking to make sure you were still there, close to her. And each time you caught her in the act, Abby quickly looked away, biting her lip and pretending to refocus on her notes.
After a few minutes of productive silence, one of your friends approached. “Are you two done already?”
“No, not yet. But let’s take a break.” you answered, pushing your laptop aside with a tired sigh. You stretched lightly, every movement graceful even in fatigue, before your eyes found Abby’s. “Would you like something to drink? Maybe something to eat?”
Abby blinked in surprise and shifted in her seat. “Maybe just some water.”
You glanced at your friend, who, without needing more than a look from you, immediately understood and disappeared into the house to fetch what you had asked for. Abby watched silently, amazed at how naturally everyone seemed to move around you, as if they orbited you, desperate for your approval.
“You and your friends… you seem close.” Abby said softly, her voice tinged with genuine curiosity.
“Oh yeah, we’re very close.” you replied, your eyes gleaming as though recalling something. “They’re like my second family.”
What you’d never admit to her was the quiet satisfaction you felt watching people as wealthy as you, so used to being waited on, move around you like they were your own staff.
Abby fell quiet for a moment, letting those words sink in. Her chest tightened in a strange way, a mix of tenderness and longing. She wanted so badly to be part of that world, to be included in that circle of trust that seemed unbreakable. More than that, she wanted to be that person for you, someone you spoke of with the same affection.
“But what about you?” you asked, tilting your head slightly. “I bet you have lots of friends.”
Abby let out a soft laugh, not exactly amused, more like a quiet sigh. “I mean, I do have friends… they’re just at a different college.”
“That sucks.” you murmured, and the smile you gave her was gentle, sincere in its sympathy. Your eyes lingered on her face a little longer than necessary, as if searching for something hidden, a crack in her reserve.
She held your gaze, her heart racing at the intensity of the moment. Something in your expression made her believe you were genuinely interested, and that gave her a spark of courage.
“Hey, so…” you started, leaning back in your chair, voice dropping a little like you were sharing a secret. “A friend of mine own this nightclub, and she’s throwing a party there tomorrow. Pretty much everyone’s going. You should come too. Might be a good chance to make some friends… you know, besides me.”
The words were light, but Abby clung to the end of your sentence. Besides me. It was as if, without meaning to, you had placed yourself at the center of her world, acknowledging that you were already too important not to be mentioned. Abby gave a small, shy smile, but beneath it was pride and happiness. Because to her, it wasn’t about the party, the nightclub, or other friends. All that really mattered was you.
The line to enter the club stretched along the sidewalk, full of excited people laughing loudly and talking about the night that was only just beginning. Abby felt a few curious glances as she approached the entrance, but she did not hesitate. The security guard stopped her, asking for her name.
“Anderson. Abby Anderson.”
He checked the list in his hands and quickly stepped aside, motioning for her to go in. Behind her, Abby heard a frustrated murmur from those still waiting in line, but she paid no attention. You had put her name down, and that was all that mattered. The feeling of being invited by you, of having a place reserved at your side, warmed her chest in an unexpected way.
The moment she crossed through the doors, the world changed. The club was huge, lit by flashes of red, blue, and purple lights that pulsed to the rhythm of the deafening music. The bass shook the floor beneath her feet while bodies moved together on the dance floor as if they were a single wave. The air was heavy with the smell of alcohol, expensive perfume, and smoke, almost intoxicating.
Abby took a deep breath, trying to ignore the sensation of being out of place in that space where everyone seemed to shine in some way. Yet there was still something about her that drew attention: the black pants, the matching black shirt that emphasized her muscular frame, the blonde braid draped over her shoulder, and the glasses that were so much a part of her. But her blue eyes were consumed by only one thing: the anticipation of finding you.
And then, finally, she did.
You were at the bar, illuminated by the lights that shimmered against the short black dress that hugged your silhouette perfectly. Your high heels accentuated your presence even more, and every movement seemed calculated to be magnetic. Abby felt the air escape her lungs. You were dazzling, almost unreal.
“Abby…” you called when you saw her approaching. Your voice carried surprise and a spark of admiration. Your eyes traced over her body slowly, and then a smile curved across your lips. “You look beautiful.”
For a moment, Abby thought she had imagined it. The tension in her chest melted into warmth, and she pressed her hands against the sides of her pants to hide her nerves. Still, she could not mask the flush rising on her cheeks.
“Thank you.” she murmured softly, almost hesitant, but sincere. And in her mind, a single devastating thought echoed: you look perfect.
“Do you want something to drink?” you asked, leaning closer. The sweet scent of your skin reached Abby, and it felt as though nothing else around her mattered except you.
“Maybe… water.” Abby answered, trying to sound calm even as her heart raced too fast.
You let out a small laugh, shaking your head as if that response neither surprised nor disappointed you. It was just… typical of her.
“Of course… water for you.” you said, your smile lingering almost enigmatically. Then you turned back toward her, resting your elbow on the counter and letting your hand touch your chin. “You know… I was bored before you got here. It feels like my night is finally about to begin.”
The flush on Abby’s cheeks deepened instantly. She swallowed hard, adjusting her glasses nervously as if that could hide the way her whole body reacted to your words. She’s flirting with me. She’s really flirting with me.
“I… I’m glad I can… make your night better.” Abby tried to respond, stumbling over the first words but regaining confidence at the end, firm enough not to shrink.
You arched an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at your lips as if testing her limits. “Just glad? That’s disappointing… I thought you’d be excited to see me.”
Abby’s legs trembled, but she didn’t look away. Her face burned, yet she forced herself to be brave because it was you, and she did not want to waste the chance. “I was… very excited. I spent the whole day thinking about it, actually.”
Your smile widened, pleased with the confession, and you tilted your head, studying her as if she had just become even more interesting. Inside, Abby felt exposed, but at the same time a quiet pride bloomed in her chest for making you smile like that.
“So, Abby…” you began, slowly stirring the straw in your drink as if you were pondering something trivial. But the playful curve on your lips already gave away the teasing that was about to follow. “What are your hobbies besides following me around campus?”
Abby’s heart stopped for a moment. The shock ran through her body so strongly that she almost let the glass slip from her hand.
“I—what?!” she stammered, her blue eyes wide, fixed on you as if trying to figure out whether you were serious or just joking. The blush spread violently across her face, reaching even her ears. “How do you… how do you know that?”
Your laugh was soft and easy, almost musical, and your smile stretched even wider. You leaned in just a bit, like you were about to share something just between the two of you.
“You’re kinda hard to miss, Abby.”
The sound of your voice mixed with the choice of words made her heart race again, but now for an entirely different reason. The blush didn’t fade; on the contrary, it felt as if she were burning from the inside out. Abby looked away for a second, trying to catch her breath and regain her composure before facing you again.
She still felt the words stuck in her throat when you leaned even closer. The sweet and intoxicating scent of your perfume made her chest tighten, and before she could think of anything else, you had already let your hand glide along her arm in a soft touch that sent shivers across her skin.
“Wanna know a secret?” your voice dropped, soft and low, like it was meant just for her.
Abby’s eyes widened, frozen in place, while you paused deliberately, moving even closer. The heat of your body wrapped around her, and when your gaze dropped to her lips, Abby felt she was about to lose her mind. Her heart pounded so fast it felt like it might tear through her chest.
“I was watching you too.” you finished, your mouth now just inches from hers.
Abby’s world spun. She could barely breathe, torn between a nervousness so intense she thought she might faint and a surge of happiness rushing through her. You began leaning in for the kiss, and she closed her eyes for a second, surrendering to the moment…
But the sharp voice of one of your friends cut through the air.
“Hey!”
You froze, closing your eyes with frustration before slowly turning your head. Your friend hurried toward you, out of breath, eyes wide.
“Please, you have to help me. Some people started a fight… please, I need your help.”
You took a deep breath, biting back the words you really wanted to say. The exhaustion on your face betrayed your irritation at being interrupted, but you swallowed it down, letting out only a heavy sigh before stepping away from Abby.
Immediately, Abby protested, reaching out to grab your arm, panic flickering in her gaze.
“Wait, I’m going with you.” Her voice was firm, but there was a genuine fear in it, as if the thought of you facing danger alone consumed her.
“No, stay here. I’ll be back soon.” you said in a tone that left no room for argument.
“What are you going to do?” Abby pressed, eyes locked on yours, as if desperate for reassurance you wouldn’t be at risk.
“I’m just going to politely tell them to leave.” you replied, then let out a short laugh, dripping with irony, as though you didn’t believe your own words.
With one last look at Abby, you turned and followed your friend toward the chaos, leaving her behind with her heart still pounding.
Time seemed to drag as you handled the situation on the other side of the club. A few sharp words, a few people practically dragged outside… nothing you weren’t used to dealing with. But inside, all you wanted was to return to Abby.
And when you finally came back to the main floor, the sight that greeted you was enough to sink your mood.
Abby was surrounded. Three, maybe four girls clustered around her, laughing loudly, trying to get her attention, one of them even touching her arm as an excuse to lean closer. Abby, still holding her glass of water, looked uncomfortable yet at the same time her flushed cheeks betrayed that she didn’t know how to handle so much attention all at once.
You stopped where you stood, watching the scene from a distance. The small smile Abby gave one of the girls made something twist in your stomach. Your expression hardened immediately, and you crossed your arms over your chest, taking a deep breath to keep from exploding.
That was when one of your friends appeared, stumbling toward you with a half-full drink in hand. The strong smell of alcohol preceded him, and the crooked grin on his face made it clear he was far from sober.
He followed your gaze to Abby, then back to you. A rough chuckle slipped from his lips.
“I talked to her for like two seconds and suddenly she’s the most interesting person on campus?” you muttered sarcastically, your lips curving into a bitter smile as you folded your arms tighter.
Your friend burst out laughing, shaking his head as if it were the funniest thing in the world. “Looks like you’ve got competition, princess.” He leaned in, his alcoholic breath hitting your face as he added maliciously, “What are you gonna do about it?”
You turned to face him, eyes burning with disgust and anger, as if he were the last person you wanted to hear from. Without a word, you snatched the drink from his hand.
And holding his gaze, you raised the glass and downed it in one go, feeling the alcohol scorch your throat.
You stood there for minutes, arms crossed, eyes fixed on Abby as she gave nervous laughs in the middle of the little circle of girls around her. Every time one of them leaned closer, every time Abby smiled shyly, your anger grew stronger.
The alcohol burning in your throat didn’t help. The bitter taste mixed with jealousy only made everything more intense. You wanted to push through the crowd and tear each of them away from her, but no. Not yet. You forced yourself to breathe deeply, to calm down.
Slowly, you let go of the bitterness, almost as if shedding your skin. A lazy, careless smile formed on your lips, one that masked the storm inside perfectly. Your body relaxed as you slipped into a new role, that of someone simply too drunk and too vulnerable.
Your steps were calculated, even if they looked unsteady, as you crossed the floor toward Abby.
Her blue eyes lifted the moment you approached, and the circle of girls instantly lost their relevance. She stepped forward, worry etched across her face.
“Are you okay? I was worried.” her voice was steady, but tinged with nervousness, as if she had been holding onto those words for too long.
You raised your eyes to her, letting your head tilt slightly, and let your voice slip out slow and dragged, full of feigned regret.
“I’m fine, I just… I just think I drank too much.”
Her reaction was immediate. Abby reached out, holding your arm carefully, her touch firm but gentle as if she feared hurting you. The tension in her shoulders revealed how instantly alert she had become, completely focused on you.
You bit the inside of your lip, hiding the laugh threatening to escape. It was almost ridiculous how easy she was.
“Can you take me home?” you asked, your voice soft with a touch of staged fragility. “I’d ask one of my friends, but… they’re having so much fun. I don’t want to ruin their night.”
Abby didn’t hesitate. “Yeah, of course. I’ll take you.” Her answer came fast, almost impatient, leaving no room for doubt.
Her hand slid to your waist, steady, guiding you naturally as she led you out of the club. The warmth of her palm against your skin sent a shiver racing through your body, and you almost allowed yourself a smile, mocking how easy it had been to convince her.
On the sidewalk, Abby opened the car door for you, leaning down to help. She held the seatbelt and pulled it across your body, fastening it carefully, as if you were too precious for any detail to be handled carelessly.
Then she walked around and slid into the driver’s seat. She started the engine, the growl filling the tense silence between the two of you.
The drive was quick, quiet, the only sound the muffled music still spilling faintly from the club behind you.
The car stopped in front of your house, and you didn’t waste time pulling Abby along with you, guiding her to the bedroom with hurried steps. She seemed hesitant, but she didn’t question it, only followed at your side with that worry still written in her blue eyes.
As soon as you entered, you closed the door behind you and turned the key in the lock. The dry click echoed in the silent room, and Abby stopped immediately in the middle of the space, her body stiff. The confusion was clear in every feature of her face.
You approached slowly, your eyes fixed on hers, and tried once again to close the distance, leaning in to kiss her. But Abby stepped back, her breath caught.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice low, almost alarmed.
A slow smile formed on your lips as you let the dress slip off your shoulders. “We’re alone now…” you murmured, revealing the lace fabric of your bra under the soft glow of the lamp.
Abby’s eyes widened, panic written in every detail. Before you could continue, she moved forward, grasping your hands firmly to stop the dress from falling any further.
“You don’t know what you’re doing… you’re drunk… we can’t do this.” Her voice sounded urgent, almost pleading, as if she were trying to protect you from yourself.
It was in that instant that the truth hit you hard. You had made a mistake. Abby was too proper. Too… good.
“No, don’t worry, I’m fine…” you insisted, trying to move closer again, but she dodged with determination.
Without leaving room for further protests, Abby took your hand and began leading you to the bathroom. “I’m going to help you get ready for bed. You need to sleep.”
Abby led you to the bathroom with firmness, as if she were carrying something precious. You let her, silent, your eyes fixed on her the entire time. When she sat you on the cold sink and opened the drawer in search of makeup wipes, a shiver ran through you, not from the cold, but from the sight of her so close, so yours, occupying a space that until then had only belonged to you.
She came back to you, moving slowly, and her steady hand held your chin with a gentleness that almost unraveled you. The wipe slid across your skin, removing the layers of makeup, and you remained completely still, as if any movement might break that moment.
Every touch was soft, but in your mind you recorded everything as if it were vital: the way Abby furrowed her brow in concentration, the exact movement at the corner of her mouth when she bit her lip without realizing it, the warmth of her palm against your skin. You already knew you would keep all of it for later, for when she was no longer near, because every detail was yours, only yours.
She had no idea what she was doing to you.
You watched how her blond lashes shimmered under the faint light, how the blue in her eyes seemed even deeper at that distance. You wished that no one else would ever see her so close, that no one else would have that privilege.
On the outside, you stayed quiet, even serene, allowing Abby to believe you were simply too drunk to react. But inside, your heart was pounding, and a darker part of you wanted to laugh at the fact that she, so proper, so self-righteous, was touching you like that, without even realizing how much it meant.
Abby ran the wipe gently across the corner of your mouth, then blew softly, like she was drying off the last bit. You nearly shivered. The gesture was so careful, so tender, that for a moment you felt a strange flicker of guilt for having set it all up.
In the end, when she set the wipe aside and tossed it into the trash, you kept looking at her, silent, as if still under some spell. Abby gave a small, uncertain smile, as if trying to reassure you.
You only returned the look, hiding the real thought burning inside you: she didn’t know it yet, but she was already yours.
a/n: comment if you want to be on this story's taglist! 😸
warnings: oral (r!receiving), sub!reader, sub!top!abby, abby is a whiney loser, abby cums from dry humping the bed while eating u out, language, mutual pining, set in fall, reader gives pilates princess vibes, sorority!reader, reader is a #ihatemyboyfriend final boss, boyfriend is shitty and stupid and a cheater, cheater reader
pairing: femme!popular!reader x loser!nerdy!abby
summary: you definitely don’t expect your tutor to be the girl your slept with when you drank your guilt of failing bio away at a frat party.
It was a particularly cold Monday morning, the type when you can see your breath anytime you breathe. You had to force yourself out of bed that morning. Out of your cotton sheets and floral comforter. You made yourself put on a sweat set and barely put effort into your appearance before you were out the door to class.
Your useless boyfriend was already downstairs when you were leaving. You heard whispering and then peeked your head into the kitchen. Your friend Jules was standing there in an oversized hoodie, one you’ve seen before. It was your college’s football team hoodie, with name stitching on the sleeve. You couldn’t see the name but as soon as she saw you Jackson smiled and handed you a cup of coffee he took from Jules’ hand. You put on a fake smile.
“Thanks” you say before going to the sink ajd pretending to sip it before emptying it down the drain. Jules and Jackson are awkwardly standing there stepping away from each other and looking at the distance.
When Jules turned you read the stitching on the sleeve of the hoodie. ‘Cpt. Jackson Russo’.
You swear you felt your heart drop to your ass, the wind was knocked from your lungs. You didn’t care when he cheated with random girls at parties. But with your friend?
“So now you’ve moved up to cheating on me with my friends?” you scoff. “Nice Jackson, really nice.” your voice raised as you turned to Jules. “And really classy of you to sleep with him after you called him a dead beat!” your starting to yell, other girls in the house are watching now, eyebrows furrowed in concern.
“Really Jules? After you sat with me and listened to me complain about the cheating?” you scoff.
“Hope you used protection ‘cause she has syphilis“ you announce loudly before storming out of the house, slamming the door shut behind you.
You went through your classes barely paying attention. It’s not like you could. You were too angry to even think straight. You thought hard about how you shouldn’t be this mad. About how you cheated on Jackson too. A bit of guilt crept up on you, feeling bad for cheating even if he cheated all the time. You thought you should’ve been the bigger person. But the guilt doesn’t last long before you tell yourself that you shouldn’t feel bad for cheating on a shitty boy.
You did feel like you were being a hypocrite though, just a little. You got mad at him for cheating but you cheated too. But you didn’t cheat on him with his friend.
Once your classes were over for the day, you went back to the house and straight to your room, changing into active wear and stupidly wearing a tee shirt. You ran back outside with sneakers and just started running.
The cold air burned your lungs as you tried to breathe, sharp inhales coming through your mouth. The air made chills go up your arms, colored leaves spinning from the wind.
You didn’t even know how far you had run once you got back to the house. But you filled a water bottle and chugged it down, a sheen of sweat on your forehead. Anna walks in and quirks an eyebrow.
“Good job mentioning the syph” she smirks.
You smile a bit and then press your lips together, letting out a long breath. “I thought she’d have some class” you grumble.
“Please” Anna laughs.
You stare at the marble for a moment, like it would tell you why Jules did that. But it can’t, you can’t think of any reason as to why she would do that.
Maybe she was really lonely. Is what you told yourself, trying to forgive.
But you couldn’t, not for something like that.
You sat in your bed, curled up in a hoodie and sweats, you felt empty, and a faint hint of a stuffy nose. You forced yourself to get out of bed and drive to Sipology for your session.
Abby was already sitting in the usual booth, your chai tea in a mug where you usually sit as she had her face buried in a notebook. You take a seat and set your bag down, looking at her as she finally looks up with a small smile and a blush.
“Hey” she says softly. “You okay? You look tired” she asks with concern laced in her voice.
“Yeah…Just…” you sigh. “I walked downstairs this morning to go to class and there’s my friend in nothing but my boyfriend’s hoodie, acting completely awkward around each other.” you say to her.
Her eyebrows furrow and she makes this disgusted face that you found endearing. “And I know I cheated on him but…it’s different. He cheated on me with my friend” you scoff. “That’s just…cruel. And Jules, she would literally listen to me complain about the cheating, and now she’s one of the cheaters.” you laugh softly.
There’s a silence for a while, quiet as you both think.
“Harlot” Abby says with a crooked smile.
You smile widely and start to laugh a little, until you hear her laugh which just makes you laugh harder. You held your stomach, practically feeling abs form.
Your giggles settle down eventually and then you’re just smiling at her, her gaze avoiding yours.
“Do you wanna…maybe uhm- go back to my dorm? Just because I-I know Jules lives at the house and Im assuming you don’t wanna see her right now. Unless you do and you wanna go back to the house because that’s totally fine too.” she babbles, and you find it adorable.
“I’ll go back to your dorm with you Abby” you smile softly.
She lets out a relived sigh and smiles.
You sit on the familiar bed from that one night. The same sheets and bedding, and the same awards on the wall. Your knees were touching, making it seem like the biggest deal ever. She was nervously babbling about space, telling you random facts. “I-I mean we should go star gazing sometime-like if you want to-“ you cut her off before she can continue. “I’d love to” you smile, your faces inches apart.
“Really?” she grins ear to ear.
“Yeah” you nod, giggling softly.
You kiss her once, gingerly, pulling back to look at her before she’s already moving forward and kissing you again. You smile into the kiss before properly kissing her back. Your mouths moved against each others, her tongue swept across your bottom lip, making you sigh. You open your mouth and your tongues intertwine.
Her hands are placed on your hips, gently pulling you onto her lap. Your hands snake up her chest and hold her biceps, squeezing the hard muscle in your hand, gasping softly against her mouth.
Her palms cupped your ass, moving them up and down the surface, every once in a while she’d move her hands under your ass and squeeze , forcing you to press against her. Her hand moved into your hair, tucking it behind your ear and pushing it to flow down your back so it wasn’t in your face. Her hand cups your breast, squeezing once before moving over your core, your thigh and back to your ass.
You pant softly as you pull away, her lips trailing down your neck, kissing slowly. Marks are sucked into your neck, only a few, scatter everywhere. She plays with the hem of your hoodie, you lift your arms up and she hums approvingly, taking off your hoodie. She kisses along your collar bone, little hickeys left behind. You discarded a bra when you put in your hoodie, it wasn’t needed since you were planning on staying in.
She pulls back and gawks at your chest, palms massaging the supple flesh with gentleness. “You’re so beautiful” she whispers, lips parted slightly and eyes wide behind her glasses. You smile softly and arch your back into her palm, making her whine under her breath.
Her mouth latches onto a harden nipple, sucking slowly as her tongue flicks at it once in a while. Her other big hand massages the other tit before giving it the same attention.
Her hands hold your hips as she kisses and sucks marks into the valley between your breasts. Her thumbs dip into the waistband of your sweats, rubbing circles into your hip.
You pant, her stormy eyes look up at you through her glasses. “Can I take these off?” she asks so politely, a blush across her cheeks.
“Go ahead” you whisper.
Her head ducks and she slides your sweats down your ass and to your knees. You lift up one knee at a time to help her take them off and put them nicely next to her on the bed. She doesn’t even bother teasing before she’s tugging at the waistband of your underwear all needy, looking up at you and asking for consent while doing so. As soon as she gets the okay she’s sliding them off quickly and throwing them onto the floor.
She lays you down and asks if you’re comfortable about 4 times before descending between your thighs. She spreads apart your thighs impatiently, looking at your soaking heat.
She runs a finger through your folds which were stuck together by strands of cloudy slick. She’s already licking a bold stripe up your center before circling her tongue around your bud. Her lips latch on, lips on the outskirt of your clit and sucking softly, tongue flicking over the middle of your button, a gasp tearing from your throat as your hands tangle into her hair.
She whines into you, your finger undid her braid so you could properly tug it. Your moans are quiet, trying not to be too loud. But the way Abby is so needy to give you head makes you want to scream.
She’s practically dry humping the mattress, tongue slurping you up and plunging inside you to feel you flutter around her tongue, making her let out a broken moan into you.
Her glasses were foggy and she couldn’t see well, but she didn’t care.
“Fuck-just like that” you moan, she whimpered right into your clit, making your hips buck with the vibration.
You tug her strands “Abby-“ you gasp, your hips jerking to meet her mouth as her hands spread your thighs apart further. She lets out what sounds like a cry, you massage her scalp briefly before moaning again, nails digging into her. She just whines and takes it.
“Fuck-God Abby I’m gonna cum” you pant. You felt the familiar sensation, not super close but almost there. When the movements feel better and you become more sensitive, and it slowly builds to that warm feeling in your cunt. You clench around her tongue and she groans, dry humping the bed more desperately.
Your hips stutter and you fall over the edge, moaning loudly as white flashed behind your eyes, you gasped and panted as she continued eating you out, moaning into you.
It’s then when you realize she came while eating you out. Just from dry humping a bed with clothes on.
You pull her head back, making her whine. And God was she a sight to see. Her glasses were foggy and crooked, white was all over her nose cheeks and chin, and dried tear marks were streaked on her face.
You laugh softly and push her glasses up, wiping her eyes with your thumb. “You okay?” you giggle softly.
She nods “I-I’m great. Are you okay?” she says, voice still whiney.
“I’m okay..” you say softly as you tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.
“You cum from the bed?” you giggle softly.
She blushes, hiding her face in your thigh before kissing it lightly. “Yeah..” she mumbles.
“I’m glad”
She shakes her head at your giggles and kisses your hip and then your mound before getting up and grabbing paper towels from on top of the mini fridge. She takes the roll and wipes you up gently, being careful not to touch your clit. She throws the paper towels away and grabs a pair of her boxers from her dresser and one of her hoodies. She slides the boxers up your legs and then helps you into the hoodie before folding your old clothes neatly and laying them on a chair.
“Thank you” you smile softly as she climbs into bed, lying down and opening her arms as you lay on her chest.
“Course” she whispers, a gentle kiss being pressed to your temple.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤnerd!abby x reader x ellie part 2 𝟏𝟖+
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤpart one
ㅤ “Now fuckin’ touch my girl like you mean it and make her cum”
Abby doesn’t remember how long she’s been between your thighs, all she can really focus on is the sound of your heavy breathes, your soft gasped moans, the squelching sound of your cunt and Ellie’s whispered praises against the plush of your tits.
“you’re doing so good, baby” your girlfriend chuckles, her tongue swirling around the hard bud of your nipple, teeth lightly scraping across it, tearing whimpers and quiet pleas from you.
One of your hands cupped the back of Ellie’s head as your back arches, and she greedily sucks on your nipple while your fingers slide through her hair, tugging harshly. Meanwhile, your other was gripping the Blonde’s hair tightly, hips bucking up into her mouth as she lazily sucks at your clit, humming into your cunt at the feeling of the grip you have on her hair “s’too much” you whine, legs tightening around Abby’s head.
“You can take it baby. Being such a good girl. Abby’s takin’ good care of you, ain’t she?”
The Blonde, who was still laying between your legs, lips wrapped around your clit and fingers working in and out of your sopping cunt, looks up at the mention of her name, glasses fogged up and eyes all doe. You can barely focus on her face, only her tongue and fingers but she can see you.
Seeing you completely naked between them while they were still fully clothed had her cheeks flushed. Having you pulling and gripping onto her hair for dear life had her whimpering pathetically into your cunt, the vibrations tearing whines and utter nonsense from your pretty lips. And having your hips stuttering against her mouth, trying to fuck yourself on both her tongue and fingers, had her going crazy.
“mhm… s’good Abs—fuck”
“startin’ to think Abby’s just as fuckin’ needy as you are, baby”
The statement from Ellie had you both a whimpering mess. Abby couldn’t deny her words because deep down she knew it was true and you? you knew she had a little crush on you and how you, most of the time caught her looking at you with that soft, shy smile, and how she would ask you if it was okay to study at the same table in the Library with you.
You could never say no to Abby.
A startled cry was pulled from you when Ellie slips her hand between your quivering thighs, groaning into your skin when she feels how wet you are against the pad of her fingers, her lips making a home on your neck as she litters kisses up and down, in slow actions. “you get so fuckin’ wet. s’ridiculous” she mutters, rubbing tight but slow circles on your clit. Abbys still fucking in and out of you, watching the way your cunt practically sucks her back in.
Your fingers grip onto Ellie’s hoodie, blabbering and whimpering into her neck while you try your hardest to form one correct sentence, but with the way your girlfriend was giving so much attention to your throbbing clit and how good Abby’s curled in your cunt, muttering small curses and praises, had you on cloud nine.
“made such a mess of my girl, you’ve now got her crying” Ellie coos, wiping the tears with her free hand, smirking down at your fucked out face. “feel good, huh? yeah, i bet you do”
Her mocking tone was more than enough to have you whimpering, pulling harder on her hoodie. “Els, please” you whine, legs threatening to close around Abbys head and Ellies hand.
“please what, baby?”
To them, you were such a sight. Legs spread beneath them, the glistening of your cunt, naked to their eyes only. Nipples pebbled from the cold air as well as all the attention from Ellies mouth. Abby could barely even form any words, or look up at your face because you took her fingers so well. She couldn’t look away. Your pussy was her new favourite thing.
“pussy takin’ me so well, pretty”
You whimpered at her words, and she had the balls to laugh when your walls tightened around her fingers at the praise. Ellie, on the other hand, smirked. Tapping your face, your eyes flutter and flicker to look up at her. “open your mouth, baby”
Never one to disobey her demands, you quickly open your mouth, and your heart thumps in your chest when she smiles and slips her fingers into your mouth, damn near whimpering at the feeling of your tongue brushing against the pads of her fingers.
“Abby”
“w-what?” The Blonde stutters, looking up at the Auburn, who was practically finger fucking your throat. She shivered, and eyebrows furrowed when Ellie gripped her free hand in hers, placing it on your lower stomach.
“she’s not as innocent as she looks, once you fill both her holes, she’s a dirty little slut” Ellie grins mischievously down at you, “fuck her harder”
It was like a flip had switched in Abby’s head hearing the obscene words. The once slow pace she had going was switched up to brutal one in mere seconds. Your eyes went wide, your thighs clamped around the Blonde’s hand and your moans were muffled by Ellie’s fingers shoved down your throat.
“there you go, baby”
If Abby thought you were beautiful when you smiled at her and laughed, then she sure as hell knows you are fucking ethereal now. Having you underneath her, gripping at her wrist, and trying to fuck yourself against her fingers was something she didn’t know she needed this badly before, until now. “Look so fuckin’ pretty like t-this..” she stutters, curling her fingers against the spots she knew now that had you clutching at the bedsheet with your free hand, still greedily sucking on Ellie’s fingers.
You sure as hell were not going to last long. Not with how Abby was fucking you at such a relentless pace and how Ellie was rubbing at your clit.
Your girlfriend leaned her face closer to yours, pressing sloppy kisses to your jaw, chuckling at the way you whine and whimper around her spit-covered fingers. “Knew you were dirty, baby. Just had to have your best friend truly show me just how fuckin’ dirty you are, huh?” she whispers into your skin. “yeah, i know you love this”
Abby was quick to curl her fingers against the right spot inside you that had your back arching, almost choking on the fingers still in your mouth. Your hand tightened around Ellie’s wrist, the pace of her fingers rubbing circles on your clit matched Abby’s while your hips bucked up into them, and the tears ran down your face.
“You crying, baby?” Ellie cooed, again.
Nodding quickly, you looked up at Ellie with glossy eyes, feeling your orgasm creeping up on you. Tapping a finger on her wrist, she tsk’d before pulling them out your mouth, only to instantly grip your jaw between them. “m’gonna cum” you whimper. “please Abs, wanna cum”
“Do you think you deserve to?” was all she said, working her fingers faster. “Hm?”
She knew you were close. How could she not know with the way your walls gripped her fingers tighter, refusing to let her go anywhere. They were practically trapping her there. Chuckling under her breath, the Blonde adds a little pressure to your lower stomach, face heating up at the pornographic sounds of your cunt and soft whimpers and whines filling the room.
“Yes! I’ve been so good— so good for you— oh my god”
Her mouth was instantly back on your cunt without a single warning, fingers hitting that spongey spot inside you repeatedly, whereas Ellie had her lips wrapped your nipple again. Sucking, licking and even biting like her life depended on it. Your hips stuttered against Abby’s mouth, walls tightening around her fingers. “Abby m’gonna cum. please let me cum”
She just kept sucking at your clit, curling her fingers and abusing that little spot inside you. Glasses too fogged up to see you, but hearing the moans she was tearing from you was music to her ears. “cum in my mouth, please, want you to cum in my mouth” she whimpers out pathetically, tips of her ears red when Ellie chuckles.
“Both such little sluts, fuck” She mutters, letting go of your nipple with a ‘pop’ “be a good girl, baby. cum”
That was all you needed for your thighs to finally cage Abby’s head between your legs as you cum against her tongue and fingers with a silent yet choked moan as your back arches. The pace of her fingers slow down but they don’t stop, slowly fucking you through your orgasm, her tongue lapping up your cum and her own spit lazily.
“You did so good” Ellie murmurs into your neck making you hum, rubbing your hips when you whine quietly as Abby draws her fingers from you, instantly shoving them into her mouth, moaning at the taste of you, which catches the Auburns attention. “Greedy slut, huh?”
“n-no, just taste so good”
Pressing a kiss to your head, your eyes flicker open tiredly to find Ellie looking at you with a smile, “m’gonna run a bath for you, okay? clean you up a little then we can find something for you to eat”
i feel like loser!abby would fuck up and ask you if ur ‘damp’ instead of ‘wet’ and then just sit on the edge of your bed with her head in her hands muttering apologies
