these are all with a x waitress!reader in mind just an fyi! the headcanons are all sfw, but I can always do some nsfw ones later if anyone is interested. enjoy babes xx.
line cook!abby is scary. at least, thatâs what youâd heard before you even stepped foot in the kitchen of the point bravo bar & grill. majority of the front of house staff are terrified of her, and honestly? you can absolutely see why. coming in at five foot nine and built like a ox, abbyâs sarcastic, brutally honest and intimidating without even trying.
but to make matters worse, sheâs ridiculously hot.
which seems incredibly unfair considering she spends most of her shifts sweaty, mildly irritated and covered in grease. her shirt sleeves are always rolled up past her broad shoulders, dark ink and muscles on full display. but itâs not even her physical physique or devastatingly pretty face that rendered you speechless that first day.
no, it was how she looked you in the eye after you royally fucked up an order half-way through the dinner rush. how you were fully expecting the hostility that everyone had warned you about, only to receive a soft, âhey, relax. itâs no big deal.â before she quietly remade the order without giving you any grief for it.
line cook!abby has two different modes during a lunch or dinner rush: weirdly calm and terrifyingly competent or one minor inconvenience away from burning the entire restaurant down.
line cook!abby works the grill and flat-top primarily, usually alongside her roommate (and best friend) manny. the two of them argue like an old married couple most of the time, which you find hilarious.
line cook!abby has a personal beef with ticket machine. she had broken at least 5 in the entire time sheâs worked there, and marlene tells her that the next one is coming out of her paycheck. but it never actually does.
line cook!abby who says things like, âbehindâ, âmoveâ, âcornerâ like a drill sergeant.
line cook!abbyâs work uniform consists of an array of oversized band tees or cut off tees, cargo shorts or sweatpants and a bleach stained apron. she wears her hair in a neat braid down the middle of her back, or in a messy bun. but if her hair is pissing her off that day sheâll throw it into a low ponytail, put on a backwards dad hat and call it good enough.
line cook!abby apparently âhas a thing for pretty waitressesâ according to manny. but the only waitress sheâs ever been soft on is you.
line cook!abby is addicted to caffeine. she cannot go a whole shift without pounding at least two energy drinks or an extra large iced coffee.
line cook!abby constantly checks to make sure youâve eaten during your shift. and if you try to tell her youâre too busy or you forgot? suddenly a basket of fries or a grilled cheese will appear next to you while youâre ringing in an order at the kiosk. and sheâll mumble a stern, âgo eat. now.â before disappearing back behind the line like itâs no big deal.
line cook!abby who runs extremely hot. if sheâs not on the line you can usually find her in the walk-in trying to cool herself off and grumbling about how, âmarlene needs to fix the damn air conditioner already.â
line cook!abby is always in control of the aux in the kitchen when sheâs working and is not afraid to smack anyone who tries to change the music. you and manny can usually tell what kind of mood sheâs in by what genre of music sheâs playing. so if creed, matchbox twenty or theory of a deadman is blaring when you clock in, you already know sheâs been having a rough afternoon.
line cook!abby wears her irritation and annoyance plainly on her face. sheâs snarky and short with almost everyone, but the minute you ask for something? she visibly softens, and does whatever you asked for without question.
âabs, can I get another basket of fries, please?â and with a soft flutter of your lashes or a warm smile, sheâs folding immediatelyâdumping a fresh batch of fries into a basket and sliding them into the expo window without uttering a single complaint.
âchrist, you are so fucking whipped, cariño.â
line cook!abby keeps a bandana in her back pocket or a clean towel draped over her shoulder to be able to wipe the sweat from her face throughout her shift. the one time she didnât seem to have one and had to use the hem of her t-shirt, you nearly dropped an entire tray of food.
line cook!abby has the biggest praise kink. you tell her something she made was delicious? instantly bashful, ears turning pink as she ducks her head and tries to pretend you didnât just turn her insides to mush. and youâre absolutely tucking that information away for later.
line cook!abby gets weirdly possessive over kitchen tools. she once threatened manny that sheâd scrub their toilet with his toothbrush if he ever touched her knives again.
line cook!abby absolutely cannot flirt like a normal person. so she shows her affection in subtle ways like: not complaining or giving you shit when you mess up an order, carrying the ice bucket up to the bar for you because itâs âpainful to watch you struggleâ, staying late to help you roll silverware after she finishes her own closing duties, playing paramoreâs entire discography during a shift that youâre both working together just because she heard you tell leah that theyâre one of your favorite bands.
line cook!abby always walks you to your car if the two of you are scheduled to close together. even if she finishes her closing duties faster than you.
line cook!abby absolutely despises remakes or substitutions on orders, and sheâs not afraid to let someone know just how much it annoys her.
âthe menu says no substitutions, canât people fucking read?â
âabby, theyâre literally allergic to onions.â
âsounds like a personal problem.â
line cook!abby always has a toothpick or pen shoved behind her ear, or stuck in between her teeth. sheâs also constantly chewing gumâmostly because she knows it annoys the hell out of manny but baby girl has a oral fixation. she just doesnât want to admit it.
line cook!abby will absolutely complain about having to close, but itâs secretly her favorite shift to work. especially if youâre on the schedule.
line cook!abby takes a lot of pride in her work, even when sheâs slammed and is glaring at every new ticket that comes through like they personally insulted her. but even then she never lets a plate go out on the floor looking like a damn mess.
the one exception she ever made was the time your ex came in and made it their personal mission to make your night a living hell. so when she found you crying in the walk-in not long after, she âaccidentallyâ let that burger burn to a crisp before sending it out with a satisfied smirk.
line cook!abby who always seems to smell like a combination of fresh citrus, old spice and smoke from the grill, no matter how often she washes her clothes.
line cook!abby is constantly burning her hands on something. half the time she doesnât really react anymore besides cursing under her breath or mumbling a barely audible, âyeah that was fucking dumb, abigail.â to herself.
but if you are in the back when it happens? youâll insist on helping her bandage it until she finally relents with the most adorable scowl.
line cook!abby is terrible at hiding her jealousy. while she doesnât cause a scene, or become overly possessiveâif she sees a customer flirting with you, she absolutely makes it everyone elseâs problem.
sheâs slamming pans harder than necessary, muttering constant curses under her breath at the grill, shouting for âsomeone to run this fucking food already!â the second it appears in the expo window. lev finds it a little too hilarious and is always roasting her when heâs bringing clean dishes up from the pit.
line cook!abby is extremely sentimental. you wrote her a little thank you note on the back of a discarded receipt once before you two started dating and she still has it taped to the inside of her locker.
line cook!abby isnât big on pda, but when she realizes how much her touch seems to affect you, she makes any and every excuse to get her hands on you when youâre working together. whether itâs a hand against the small of your back as she passes behind you in the kitchen, curling a finger into the loop of your jeans to pull you out of the way when another staff member is dashing around the corner, sneaking up behind you to rest her chin on your shoulder when youâre ringing an order in.
she thinks sheâs being subtle most of the time, but abby is about as subtle as a bull in a china shop.
ngl every single time i watch this scene i feel like i'm 14 realizing i'm a lesbian all over again. deadass kicking my feet and giggling every single time. it's kind of magical.
Abby Anderson x Reader
Summary: A typical shift change turns into confessed feelings when you and Abby are stranded in the rain.
Warnings & Tags: Fluff! Honestly not much I can think of; Reader is very scared of rejection, Heavy storms mentioned, a lil friends-to-lovers.
Word Count: 2.3k
The rain was coming down in droves, heavy drops that pelted against the glass of the windshield, thunder cracking loudly overhead and the sky only seemed to be getting darker and darker. You looked over at Abby, her hands white-knuckled gripping the steering wheel, leaning forward as she concentrated on the terrain. You werenât sure how she was seeing anything at all to keep driving, but youâd long since learned not to question her capabilities. You were headed out to relieve the current team posted at the TV station and running late because of the storm. It hadnât been expected at all, rain was common of course, but a storm this intense wasnât.Â
You looked out over the landscape, trying to focus your eyes on anything around you that might give you an idea of how far out you were from the station. Using your sleeve, you brushed the condensation from the window in front of you. It didnât do much to help, so you turned again to look at Abby instead, her features pulled tight and her brow furrowed. You knew distinctly her frustrated appearance shouldnât have sparked the fluttering of butterflies in your chest the way that it did, but there was something devastatingly attractive about the way she wore all of her emotions so plainly on her face.Â
You had been friends for years, often paired together on postings. You had a patient steadiness that grounded her restless energy, and she was always quick to react where you hesitated. Where she was ruthlessness you were mercy; when she drifted, you brought her back. It hadnât always been an easy pairing, you both struggled at first to understand the other. It took time to learn how to give each other the space to do what you needed to. Honestly, at first youâd distinctly disliked Abby, her viciousness intimidated you. You hadnât had an easy path to finding the wolves, no one had, and through it all you had grasped onto your kindness, your compassion. Seeing someone so freely embrace their rage, their pain, you resented it. Over time, though things started to fall into place, Abby gave you an outlet for the ugly emotions you desperately tried to hide away, you gave her a place to let her armor down. You developed a balance, and after all this time Abby had started to refer to you as her humanity. Youâd long accepted that this was the only way sheâd ever refer to you as hers.Â
You couldnât place exactly when you had first started developing feelings for Abby, days often passing in hues and noise, but you knew you felt it in quiet moments. When your fingers brushed together at meals, the annotations she leaves you in all the books you loan her, her arm around your shoulder on the rare occasions your friends all got a quiet moment to sit and share a drink or two. Her presence was always simply there, the intensity she brought to all things had become soothing to you. Even now, sitting in the truck together listening to the sound of the rain pelting the roof, the silence stretched between you as she focused, you felt wholly calm.Â
At least until the car came to a screeching, violent stop. You surged forward, bracing yourself in the milliseconds you had before your head hit the dash, only to instead collide with her substantial forearm as it shot out in front of you, catching you just before you hit it and forcing your body backwards once again into your seat.Â
For a moment, everything seemed to be frozen in place, the sound of your heartbeat thundering in your chest outpacing the rain outside. As quickly as sheâd put her arm out, she pulled it back, gripping the wheel again as she threw the truck into reverse, pulling back a safe distance before stopping again. Looking ahead you realized the issue. While your eyes were on her, youâd entirely missed the road rapidly flooding ahead of you, had Abby stopped a moment later it wouldâve washed you guys out.Â
âAre you alright?â Abby asked, turning to look at you, concern-ridden across her face.
âYeah, Iâm alright, I shouldâve been paying attention, I'm sorry. Thank you for catching meâ you answer, voice small and a bit breathless.Â
âItâs not your fault; the flood came out of nowhere. Iâm just glad we stopped in time. I guess weâre not making it to the station anytime soon; should we head back?âÂ
You consider for a moment, looking at the road ahead and the rain still pouring down. You hadnât thought it was safe to drive in the first place, and after the scare you both had, the thought of continuing to drive in the storm filled you with anxiety.Â
âMaybe we could wait it out here for a bit? It canât go on forever,â you suggest.
A small smile pulls at the corner of Abbyâs lip, something you might consider to be affectionate if you didnât know any better, but more than that, something mischievous.Â
âWhatâre we gonna do while we wait?â She muses.
âWhat if we played a game?â She looks at you for a moment, seemingly thinking over your offer.Â
âWhat kind of a game?â She finally asks.
âA question game?âÂ
âOkay, but letâs sit in the back, itâll be more comfortableâ
You agree without hesitation, and she gestures for you to go first. You slip over the dashboard and into the backseat, settling in with your legs crossed. Abby follows shortly behind. Settling into the space beside you, she spreads out, getting comfortable, gripping her shoulders as she stretches. You watch her, eyes lingering across the flex of her biceps before she releases and leans back. You avert your eyes quickly, focusing them on your hands in your lap. You can feel the pink in your cheeks and hope desperately itâs too dim in the truck for her to notice.Â
âAlright, you firstâ She prods, initiating you to begin the game.Â
You take a moment to think; despite having presented the idea, you hadnât actually considered the effort of having to think up a question, and also hadnât expected her to agree to play in the first place. Games like this were typically reserved for drinking with friends, not stranded in a storm in the backseat of a truck. You eventually formulate a simple question about the most recent novel youâd shared with her, and she questions you about your experiences before the WLF. You two go back and forth like this for a while, light-hearted questions to fill the time while you wait for the road to clear.Â
âOkay, hereâs one, does Manny actually hook-up with as many girls as he brags about, or is he all talk?â You ask.Â
Abby laughs at the inquiry, the sound reigniting the thundering in your chest.Â
âUnfortunately itâs true, those poor girls get mediocre dick, and Iâm the one having to fuck off to elsewhere cause he keeps turning our room into a sex club,â She answers, a teasing tone of annoyance taking over.Â
âI canât believe those poor girls keep falling for his awful pick-up lines. You know he tried hitting on me before we became friends,â You tell her, but to your surprise, she didnât look shocked at all.Â
âOh, I know, I used to have to put up with him going on and on about you, the one girl who wouldnât give him the time of dayâÂ
âSeriously? I didnât know he was into me like that, he isnât uh, exactly my typeâ You say, voice trailing off a little bit.Â
âAlright, then who is your type?â She asks, and once again you can feel the familiar flush in your cheeks. You look back at your hands again, shrugging your shoulders a bit. You hadnât thought about how perfectly you had set her up with the question and, now that it was asked, you didnât know how to answer it.Â
âIs that your question for the game? I mean, you could ask anything.â You point out, hoping sheâll take the opportunity for a topic change.Â
âItâs my question. I mean, for as long as weâve known each other, I donât think Iâve ever seen you so much as flirt with a guy. Iâm curious,â she says.Â
Your heart pounds; of course she hasnât. The only person youâve been interested in flirting with is sitting across from you, absolutely clueless. A pit in your stomach begins to form, tangled and frantic, a response to how unsure you feel about what to say. You know you could lie to her, but so much of your friendship had been built on trust that even a white lie felt heavy like it carried repercussions you couldnât fathom.Â
âI guess I'm not really into guys,â you admit, refusing to meet her stare. The idea of finding rejection anywhere in her blue eyes fills you with a kind of anxious nausea so bad you canât stand it.Â
Itâs silent at first, the kind of silence that stretches on long enough that it gives space for your anxious thoughts to grab hold of your mind, voices louder and louder inside of your head until your chest starts to ache and you feel like you canât get enough air into your lungs to breathe. Your internal whirlwind makes the storm outside seem like a light drizzle in comparison. You canât bring yourself to look at her, only imagining the disgust she must be displaying, wondering if sheâs putting things together.Â
âAre there any girls youâre into?â She asks finally, her soft voice breaking through the violent tidal wave of thoughts pounding in your mind. You donât respond right away, not until you feel her rough fingers nudge under your chin softly, tilting your head to finally look at her.
Youâd expected to find disgust there, rejection painfully obvious across her face just like every other emotion she has. Except itâs not there at all; instead you find something much more delicate. Abbyâs eyes are soft, full of something fond and kind. Her brows are still slightly pinched but not in frustration, in concern and hesitation. The look is overwhelming, a response that in every way you had imagined this scenario going, you hadnât anticipated. Not rejection at all but rather an expression of gentleness, of wanting. It was one youâd seen before, in all the little moments you could feel yourself falling more and more for her, all the times you told yourself you were imagining things.Â
âMaybeâ You answer finally, barely above a whisper.Â
The corners of her lips curl up slightly, her thumb gently brushing across your bottom lip, her eyes glancing down to take in the sight for a moment before she looks back up to meet your eyes again. In the dim light, you can see a flush in her cheeks, and you realize that must mean she can see yours.Â
âI think I know who it is,â She says back, leaning in towards you, so close you could nearly touch her, so close the electricity between you is palpable.Â
âDo you know why we always get paired together?â She asks, and you can feel her breathing mingles with yours.Â
âCause we make a good team?â You offer, wondering where sheâs going with it. Her smile grows then, like your answer was something funny, and she shakes her head softly.Â
âWe do make a great team,â she emphasizes, âbut itâs because when I first saw you, I knew I had to get to know you. So I requested to get paired with you, teach you how things go, and then I did get to know you, and you wereâŠâ Her voice trails off, like sheâs not sure if she should continue.Â
âTell me, pleaseâ You ask, trying and failing to disguise the desperation in your voice.Â
âInfuriating, you challenged me in ways no one else had before. It used to drive me crazy, but the more time I spent with you, the more I realized how much I needed it. You remind me that thereâs kindness in this world, there are things worth protecting, and things worth caring about. You reminded me of my humanity when I thought I had lost it. I kept asking to be put with you, because I couldnât fight off how much I needed to be around you, and I think you feel the same way. Do you feel the same way?âÂ
Your gaze is wide at her confession, like a deer caught in the headlights, you can hardly process what sheâs saying but for the first time that day your pounding heart isnât from fear.Â
You nod.Â
Before you have time to think about it, Abby is closing the gap between you, her lips crashing into yours. The kiss is desperate and needy. You kiss back with the same fervor, your hands finding their way around her neck as you pull her further into you. Her calloused fingers brush your waist, nudging your shirt up and settling on the softness of your skin, digging in just a bit. When you finally separate your both breathing heavily, lips swollen and pink, and she rests her forehead against yours for a moment before the affectionate smile once again crosses her expression.Â
âDo you know how many times I've pictured this moment?â You ask, breathlessly.
âIs that your question for the game?â She teases, and you canât stop yourself from rolling your eyes at her.Â
âNo,â you answer back. She raises a brow at you.Â
âThen whatâs your question?âÂ
âKiss me again?âÂ
She doesnât hesitate, leaning back in again, while the sound of the rain outside slowly turns softer, sunlight beginning to peek through the darkness.Â
Abby Anderson x Reader
Summary: A typical shift change turns into confessed feelings when you and Abby are stranded in the rain.
Warnings & Tags: Fluff! Honestly not much I can think of; Reader is very scared of rejection, Heavy storms mentioned, a lil friends-to-lovers.
Word Count: 2.3k
The rain was coming down in droves, heavy drops that pelted against the glass of the windshield, thunder cracking loudly overhead and the sky only seemed to be getting darker and darker. You looked over at Abby, her hands white-knuckled gripping the steering wheel, leaning forward as she concentrated on the terrain. You werenât sure how she was seeing anything at all to keep driving, but youâd long since learned not to question her capabilities. You were headed out to relieve the current team posted at the TV station and running late because of the storm. It hadnât been expected at all, rain was common of course, but a storm this intense wasnât.Â
You looked out over the landscape, trying to focus your eyes on anything around you that might give you an idea of how far out you were from the station. Using your sleeve, you brushed the condensation from the window in front of you. It didnât do much to help, so you turned again to look at Abby instead, her features pulled tight and her brow furrowed. You knew distinctly her frustrated appearance shouldnât have sparked the fluttering of butterflies in your chest the way that it did, but there was something devastatingly attractive about the way she wore all of her emotions so plainly on her face.Â
You had been friends for years, often paired together on postings. You had a patient steadiness that grounded her restless energy, and she was always quick to react where you hesitated. Where she was ruthlessness you were mercy; when she drifted, you brought her back. It hadnât always been an easy pairing, you both struggled at first to understand the other. It took time to learn how to give each other the space to do what you needed to. Honestly, at first youâd distinctly disliked Abby, her viciousness intimidated you. You hadnât had an easy path to finding the wolves, no one had, and through it all you had grasped onto your kindness, your compassion. Seeing someone so freely embrace their rage, their pain, you resented it. Over time, though things started to fall into place, Abby gave you an outlet for the ugly emotions you desperately tried to hide away, you gave her a place to let her armor down. You developed a balance, and after all this time Abby had started to refer to you as her humanity. Youâd long accepted that this was the only way sheâd ever refer to you as hers.Â
You couldnât place exactly when you had first started developing feelings for Abby, days often passing in hues and noise, but you knew you felt it in quiet moments. When your fingers brushed together at meals, the annotations she leaves you in all the books you loan her, her arm around your shoulder on the rare occasions your friends all got a quiet moment to sit and share a drink or two. Her presence was always simply there, the intensity she brought to all things had become soothing to you. Even now, sitting in the truck together listening to the sound of the rain pelting the roof, the silence stretched between you as she focused, you felt wholly calm.Â
At least until the car came to a screeching, violent stop. You surged forward, bracing yourself in the milliseconds you had before your head hit the dash, only to instead collide with her substantial forearm as it shot out in front of you, catching you just before you hit it and forcing your body backwards once again into your seat.Â
For a moment, everything seemed to be frozen in place, the sound of your heartbeat thundering in your chest outpacing the rain outside. As quickly as sheâd put her arm out, she pulled it back, gripping the wheel again as she threw the truck into reverse, pulling back a safe distance before stopping again. Looking ahead you realized the issue. While your eyes were on her, youâd entirely missed the road rapidly flooding ahead of you, had Abby stopped a moment later it wouldâve washed you guys out.Â
âAre you alright?â Abby asked, turning to look at you, concern-ridden across her face.
âYeah, Iâm alright, I shouldâve been paying attention, I'm sorry. Thank you for catching meâ you answer, voice small and a bit breathless.Â
âItâs not your fault; the flood came out of nowhere. Iâm just glad we stopped in time. I guess weâre not making it to the station anytime soon; should we head back?âÂ
You consider for a moment, looking at the road ahead and the rain still pouring down. You hadnât thought it was safe to drive in the first place, and after the scare you both had, the thought of continuing to drive in the storm filled you with anxiety.Â
âMaybe we could wait it out here for a bit? It canât go on forever,â you suggest.
A small smile pulls at the corner of Abbyâs lip, something you might consider to be affectionate if you didnât know any better, but more than that, something mischievous.Â
âWhatâre we gonna do while we wait?â She muses.
âWhat if we played a game?â She looks at you for a moment, seemingly thinking over your offer.Â
âWhat kind of a game?â She finally asks.
âA question game?âÂ
âOkay, but letâs sit in the back, itâll be more comfortableâ
You agree without hesitation, and she gestures for you to go first. You slip over the dashboard and into the backseat, settling in with your legs crossed. Abby follows shortly behind. Settling into the space beside you, she spreads out, getting comfortable, gripping her shoulders as she stretches. You watch her, eyes lingering across the flex of her biceps before she releases and leans back. You avert your eyes quickly, focusing them on your hands in your lap. You can feel the pink in your cheeks and hope desperately itâs too dim in the truck for her to notice.Â
âAlright, you firstâ She prods, initiating you to begin the game.Â
You take a moment to think; despite having presented the idea, you hadnât actually considered the effort of having to think up a question, and also hadnât expected her to agree to play in the first place. Games like this were typically reserved for drinking with friends, not stranded in a storm in the backseat of a truck. You eventually formulate a simple question about the most recent novel youâd shared with her, and she questions you about your experiences before the WLF. You two go back and forth like this for a while, light-hearted questions to fill the time while you wait for the road to clear.Â
âOkay, hereâs one, does Manny actually hook-up with as many girls as he brags about, or is he all talk?â You ask.Â
Abby laughs at the inquiry, the sound reigniting the thundering in your chest.Â
âUnfortunately itâs true, those poor girls get mediocre dick, and Iâm the one having to fuck off to elsewhere cause he keeps turning our room into a sex club,â She answers, a teasing tone of annoyance taking over.Â
âI canât believe those poor girls keep falling for his awful pick-up lines. You know he tried hitting on me before we became friends,â You tell her, but to your surprise, she didnât look shocked at all.Â
âOh, I know, I used to have to put up with him going on and on about you, the one girl who wouldnât give him the time of dayâÂ
âSeriously? I didnât know he was into me like that, he isnât uh, exactly my typeâ You say, voice trailing off a little bit.Â
âAlright, then who is your type?â She asks, and once again you can feel the familiar flush in your cheeks. You look back at your hands again, shrugging your shoulders a bit. You hadnât thought about how perfectly you had set her up with the question and, now that it was asked, you didnât know how to answer it.Â
âIs that your question for the game? I mean, you could ask anything.â You point out, hoping sheâll take the opportunity for a topic change.Â
âItâs my question. I mean, for as long as weâve known each other, I donât think Iâve ever seen you so much as flirt with a guy. Iâm curious,â she says.Â
Your heart pounds; of course she hasnât. The only person youâve been interested in flirting with is sitting across from you, absolutely clueless. A pit in your stomach begins to form, tangled and frantic, a response to how unsure you feel about what to say. You know you could lie to her, but so much of your friendship had been built on trust that even a white lie felt heavy like it carried repercussions you couldnât fathom.Â
âI guess I'm not really into guys,â you admit, refusing to meet her stare. The idea of finding rejection anywhere in her blue eyes fills you with a kind of anxious nausea so bad you canât stand it.Â
Itâs silent at first, the kind of silence that stretches on long enough that it gives space for your anxious thoughts to grab hold of your mind, voices louder and louder inside of your head until your chest starts to ache and you feel like you canât get enough air into your lungs to breathe. Your internal whirlwind makes the storm outside seem like a light drizzle in comparison. You canât bring yourself to look at her, only imagining the disgust she must be displaying, wondering if sheâs putting things together.Â
âAre there any girls youâre into?â She asks finally, her soft voice breaking through the violent tidal wave of thoughts pounding in your mind. You donât respond right away, not until you feel her rough fingers nudge under your chin softly, tilting your head to finally look at her.
Youâd expected to find disgust there, rejection painfully obvious across her face just like every other emotion she has. Except itâs not there at all; instead you find something much more delicate. Abbyâs eyes are soft, full of something fond and kind. Her brows are still slightly pinched but not in frustration, in concern and hesitation. The look is overwhelming, a response that in every way you had imagined this scenario going, you hadnât anticipated. Not rejection at all but rather an expression of gentleness, of wanting. It was one youâd seen before, in all the little moments you could feel yourself falling more and more for her, all the times you told yourself you were imagining things.Â
âMaybeâ You answer finally, barely above a whisper.Â
The corners of her lips curl up slightly, her thumb gently brushing across your bottom lip, her eyes glancing down to take in the sight for a moment before she looks back up to meet your eyes again. In the dim light, you can see a flush in her cheeks, and you realize that must mean she can see yours.Â
âI think I know who it is,â She says back, leaning in towards you, so close you could nearly touch her, so close the electricity between you is palpable.Â
âDo you know why we always get paired together?â She asks, and you can feel her breathing mingles with yours.Â
âCause we make a good team?â You offer, wondering where sheâs going with it. Her smile grows then, like your answer was something funny, and she shakes her head softly.Â
âWe do make a great team,â she emphasizes, âbut itâs because when I first saw you, I knew I had to get to know you. So I requested to get paired with you, teach you how things go, and then I did get to know you, and you wereâŠâ Her voice trails off, like sheâs not sure if she should continue.Â
âTell me, pleaseâ You ask, trying and failing to disguise the desperation in your voice.Â
âInfuriating, you challenged me in ways no one else had before. It used to drive me crazy, but the more time I spent with you, the more I realized how much I needed it. You remind me that thereâs kindness in this world, there are things worth protecting, and things worth caring about. You reminded me of my humanity when I thought I had lost it. I kept asking to be put with you, because I couldnât fight off how much I needed to be around you, and I think you feel the same way. Do you feel the same way?âÂ
Your gaze is wide at her confession, like a deer caught in the headlights, you can hardly process what sheâs saying but for the first time that day your pounding heart isnât from fear.Â
You nod.Â
Before you have time to think about it, Abby is closing the gap between you, her lips crashing into yours. The kiss is desperate and needy. You kiss back with the same fervor, your hands finding their way around her neck as you pull her further into you. Her calloused fingers brush your waist, nudging your shirt up and settling on the softness of your skin, digging in just a bit. When you finally separate your both breathing heavily, lips swollen and pink, and she rests her forehead against yours for a moment before the affectionate smile once again crosses her expression.Â
âDo you know how many times I've pictured this moment?â You ask, breathlessly.
âIs that your question for the game?â She teases, and you canât stop yourself from rolling your eyes at her.Â
âNo,â you answer back. She raises a brow at you.Â
âThen whatâs your question?âÂ
âKiss me again?âÂ
She doesnât hesitate, leaning back in again, while the sound of the rain outside slowly turns softer, sunlight beginning to peek through the darkness.Â
Itâs so nice to meet you! My name is Emi, Iâm the author behind this tumblr account. Iâve been writing in one capacity or another ever since I was a child. I used to write a ton of fan fiction on Quotev (if you know, you know) but as I got older and life got busier I primarily kept my writing to myself. However after getting back into reading and fan fiction over the past year or so itâs reignited the spark and Iâve begun to prioritize my writing. Outside of fan fics you can find me writing poetry or working on my debut novel, which Iâm sure I'll share pieces of here as I progress! Iâd love to get published one day but for now Iâm just trying to build a community of people who connect with my writing and the stories I have to share, so if youâre reading this, thank you for being here!Â
Outside of writing you can find me hanging out with one of my pets (I have 5!), doing tarot readings, lurking around flower shops & book stores, and your local bakery. I love all things creative and artsy and am a collector of both monster high dolls and pokemon cards.Â
Currently listening to: Downfall - Noah Kahan â§Ë°
