im tired of pretending that i dont desire abby anderson carnally . abby pls give me one chance we can settle our differences in the bedroom. WHO SAID TJAT. must've been the wind
in which pussy drunk!abby is addicted to making you come until you can't take any more.
abby anderson gently kissing your swollen pussy lips after hours of overstimulating you because even though you can’t bear her anywhere near your clit now, she still can’t pry herself away, and she’s just so obsessed with your tired, precious little whimpers.
“please. no more.” your fingers are lax in her hair, powerless to push her away, and even though she knows you’re trying, the way you make her scalp tingle leaves her gasping and grinding against the mattress.
“I’ll stop in a minute, baby.” but she doesn’t, nose slipping across the damp crease of your groin as her fingers begin to spread you open again. “just wanna make you come one more time. know you can do it for me.”
you’re entire body is quivering, eyes squeezed shut, toes curled. pathetic whines roll from you as tears drip down your cheeks, so sensitive you can feel even the cool night air passing over your hot centre. you're so slippery that she can’t find purchase or rhythm when she plunges a finger inside you, so it’s a pointless exercise. and yet she feels your walls clench as she slips in a second finger, a third, wondering with perverse fascination if your body will ever stop responding to her. you're weeping all over her hand, all over the bedsheets, and it intoxicates her, because she can only ever find this calm, this belonging, between your legs. for hours, she's allowed to escape, committing your every sound, every atom, to memory. in an unknowable universe, there is this, you.
when her thumb accidentally slides over your puffy clit, you convulse, flinch, sob, fingers furling into the pillow behind you.
“I can’t, abs. ’s too much."
"fuck, sorry." she knows from the crack in your voice that you're past the point of feeling good, so she prises herself away, placing one last kiss on your inner thigh and inhaling your gorgeous musk. “did so good for me, though.”
she licks her lips just so she can keep tasting you, crawling up the bed to kiss your forehead. your eyes are already shut, cheeks flushed, and her own cunt, pronounced by the soaked underwear clinging to it, pulses at how beautiful you look like this, at her mercy.
her absence when she finally tears away is almost as painful as the overstimulation, your pussy throbbing as though it got used to all that pressure and wants it back. the sob you let out has her knuckles tenderly brushing away your tears. "'m not going anywhere, baby. just need to clean you up."
you hear footsteps padding, away and then back, before a cool, damp cloth elicits another hiss from you.
but the scent of you is still coated all over her, a fact she relishes in as she crawls up the bed to cradle you against her torso. you nestle your face into her naked chest, wincing as you turn to drape one leg across her.
“did I take it too far?" because even though she loves you like this, spent and boneless against her, she's forever worried that she has overestimated your limits.
"little, but it's okay."
she traces circles across your hips, still thinking of how pretty and swollen you are, still craving more, even with her jaw and fingers aching from all the ways she's ravished you.
still, holding you like this feels almost as good. sometimes, she thinks she pushes you just so she has the chance to take care of you afterwards. you're only ever this soft, this quiet, this hers, when she's unravelled you completely.
"'m sorry," she says, but she isn't, not really, not when she's still dizzy, when she still feels the echo of your thighs against her ears. "sleep now, baby."
you hum, and just like that, drift off. abby fights sleep for a long time after, lips pressed into your hair, heart slowing until nothing else exists but you and her and that steady, hot thrum.
The teal glow of the pool outside slips into your room, luring you to your window. You watch outside as Abby sits by the poolside, legs wading in the water. Meanwhile, your asshole of a brother was acting a fool in the pool— splashing and flopping like a fish. The sound of his aggravating yelling can be heard faintly through the glass.
A silly idea enters your head, watching Abby sit there, fidgeting listlessly with the hem of her swimshorts. You run and grab your phone off of the bed then prance back to the window, opening your camera. You steal a couple shots, giggling like a toddler. The brightness of your phone blinds your eyes as you scroll to find Abby's contact. You choose your favorite picture and send it to her. She texts back immediately.
Abby | you stalking me?
You | maybeeee…
You bite your lip, teething at the peeling layers of your bottom lip as you wait for a response. Yet, one never comes. You throw your phone across the bed, annoyed and trying to distract yourself from the embarrassment festering in your stomach.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
2:00 am. The metallic pink clock on the wall ticks repeatedly, the pool lights from outside the only source illuminating your room. You haven't gotten an ounce of sleep, tossing and turning in bed for the past 3 hours. It seems when you pull the comforter off, you become cold, but every time you pull them on, you're hot again.
A firm knock on the door pulls out of your fake sleep. You tumble out of bed, slowly pulling the door open.
"Did I wake you?" Abby rasps. You shake your head, dumbstruck by her unexpected appearance. You spend a good second studying her sleepwear— a wifepleaser and shorts. How does she manage to make that look sexy? She pushes her way in past you, softly closing the door behind her.
"I can't sleep," she sighs. You stare at her, wondering why the solution to her restlessness was coming to see you. "Me neither," you reply. Abby grins at your response, allowing herself to take a quick peek around the room before settling on the edge of your bed. "C'mere," she offers, patting her thigh.
You oblige and walk over, standing in front of her. The right corner of her mouth twitches — amused by your sudden timidiness. "Did you need something?" you ask, refusing to look in Abby's direction. She chuckles, pulling you down on her lap. "I can't just hang out with you?"
"N-No, of course you can," you correct. She tilts her head and it feels like she's staring into you, reading the not so wholesome thoughts you're having. "Good." The glare of the teal light outside highlights her blonde locks; her usually kempt braid was now disheveled.
"You looked real pretty in that bikini today," Abby breathes. Your face suddenly feels warm, reaching up to palm at your face. "Thank you," you smile, nervously biting at the skin of your lip. Abby reaches her hand out and drags her thumb over your bottom lip, stopping you. "You do that a lot," she murmurs.
"You know, I've been thinking about you all day," she confesses. Your heart beats loud in your ears and the only thing registering to you is how close Abby is. She nudges her nose in your neck, taking in a deep breath, the specific smell of you comforting her. She places a small kiss on your neck, and another one lower and lower.
Abby bites your neck hard, causing you to cry out loudly. "You have to be quiet. Don't want him to hear us, do you?" You shake your head frantically. "Words, baby," she commands. You whisper a shy "no," avoiding her gaze by playing with the the hair tie on her wrist.
Abby taps your leg twice, signaling for you to stand up. She follows suit, grabbing your waist as she turns you around and pushes you on the bed. You bounce against the mattress, not getting one moment to rest before Abby grabs your ankles and drags you to the end of the bed. She leans over you, kissing you slowly. Her cold hands reach under your shirt, groping your breasts roughly. You inhale sharply, trying not to make noise; the walls of your house were paper thin.
Abby's calloused hands drag down your body until they reach the waistband of your shorts.
"This okay, pretty?" she asks, face so close to yours that her lips brush yours when she talks. You assure her with a soft, "yes," and she kisses your eye before gingerly pulling them down. Abby leaves open-mouth kisses down your stomach, her strong nose dragging against your warm skin.
Thick fingers slide under your panties, groping and feeling everywhere except where you want her the most. "Abby, please," you plead, hand grabbing her wrist. Abby would usually tease you until you were begging, however, seeing the desperation in your eyes, she decides to indulge you this once.
Abby moves your panties to the slide revealing your puffy cunt, running two fingers through your slick folds. "Shit, you're this wet already?" she scoffs. Abby grabs your thighs, spreading you open. She circles your clit lightly before plunging her index finger inside you. You rest the back of your hand against your lips, fighting against the moans that want to spill out of you. "Want another one?" she smirks, amused by your efforts to stay silent.
She takes your panting and hushed squeals, as a yes, thrusting a second finger inside you. Her thumb comes up to play with your clit, your back arching off of the bed from the added stimulation. "Mm—ngh p-please," you plead, barely able to get a word out with how foggy your brain is. "You probably don't even know what you’re begging for, hm? Too fucked out, yeah?" You nod, not even processing what Abby's saying, only agreeing so she'll give you what you want.
"God, you take me so well," Abby praises, pressing a chaste kiss against your thigh. "Made just for me, baby," she breathes, ploughing her fingers faster and curling them harder into you. "Hah—'m so close Abby, s-so close please," you gasp. Abby leans over you, slipping her toungue in your mouth, swallowing your loud moans and cries.
"Come on, sweetness. I've got you," she reassures, massaging your clit in just the right way to push you over the edge. The squelching from your soaked cunt echoes through the room as you reach your climax, gushing all over Abby's thick fingers.
Abby slows down her pace, letting you ride out your high completely before pulling away. "You okay?" Her face is slightly flushed, eyeing you with worry. "Yeah," you exhale. She cups your cheek, spending a moment admiring you, before standing up.
Abby runs to grab a wet rag, cleaning you up gently. "You did so good for me," she coos, kissing your forehead. Your stomach does summersaults hearing her smooth, soft voice. Abby gets in bed next to you, pulling you close and pulling the covers over your bodies. She whispers sweet nothings in your ear until you fall asleep.
cw ; oral, abby is practically making out with your cunt, vibrator used, big clit!abby, overstimulation, multiple orgasms
synopsis ; abby gets off from pleasuirng you.
The buzzing of the toy fills the room as Abby holds the vibrator to her own engorged clit—nerves stimulated by the toy’s relentless buzzing. She moves the vibrator up and down on her clit with a shaky hand as her mouth focuses on you.
She’s been eating you out for hours now. You’re exhausted in the best way, your cunt is soaked with her spit and your arousal. You’re twitching, moaning, drooling.
“Abby, I don’t know if I can take anymore,” you say in a meek, small voice.
Abby smirks into your pussy, “you’re gonna take more,” even as she says that, the pleasure makes her own voice crack, but she’s determined.
You grip the sheets when you feel her tongue dipping inside again, tongue-fucking you. Her nose nudges your clit teasingly as her tongue works. She’s good at this, almost way too good. Your legs are faced with a challenge; try not to close around Abby’s head and restrict her oxygen.
You know she’ll like that, but you don’t want her dying face first in your pussy.
She licks up a bold stripe of your vulva. You gasp, your hips pushing off the bed. She pins you back down and kisses your cunt sloppily before driving her tongue back inside your weeping slit.
“Abby, I really don’t think I can take more,” you protest weakly.
Abby looks up, the lower half of her mouth soaked in your juices, “then, don’t think.”
You pout at that and she goes back to kissing your pussy sloppy-style. She’s obsessed with the way you taste. Her fingers hold you open, her other hand focusing on holding the vibrator on her pussy.
You feel her tongue teasing your g-spot again for what feels like the hundredth time. “I’m gonna cum again,” you mewl, holding her there, your fingers tightening in her hair.
Abby doesn’t let the sting of her scalp deter her. She keeps going and—you cum with a loud moan of her name and at the same time—Abby’s pussy walls flutter as a blissful orgasm crashes over her. Her eyes roll back, she pushes her tongue deeper and lets it stay there as she comes down from her high.
Small hc's to scratch the itch
♱ The first time she met you she was flabbergasted, you cannot tell me this girl wasn't a little sheltered. Especially towards more alternative people and things. At first she thought it was a joke or something, but after a few times of seeing you decked out in layers and lace realizes, it's actually how you dress.
♱ Outright told you you looked like a doll, coming from her you didn't know wether that was an insult or a compliment. She didn't know too wel herself either, but then she gets to know you, grows fond of it and quickly feeling a big fat crush develop
♱ Asks you out with a humble bouquet of your favoriates with lace trim around them. You said yes, ofcourse.
♱ Bumps her forehead into you bonnet each time she goes in for a peck, she'll always grumble but it's so obvious she adores the way it frames your face
♱ Once she understands it's not JUST fashion this girl does her homework on it's history, because what matters to you matters to her. Expect the research for any of your interests though
♱ Despite her love, adoration and support is still appaled by the prices (me too girl), like what do you mean you just dropped 400 on a random tuesday on a dress. But how can she be mad, when she sees her pretty girl all dolled up in her full get-up :(((
♱ Printed tights drive her crazy, i said what i said. Tights, thigh highs, knee high socks, anything like it makes her cheeks go red.
♱ Helps you undress at the end of the day, imagine you've been out and as pretty as it is your dress is starting to weight you down, your headdress is tight and itchy on your head and the pettycoat keeps scratching your tighs. When you get home she helps you get settled on the couch and peels of those pesky shoes, gently takes everything off and mutters how cute you are whilst undoing the ribbons that seem to never end. When everything is finally off she'll make sure to run her hands trough your hair to ease the slight burn and itchyness that had been bothering you all night
♱ overdressed femme gf x underdressed minimalistic masc/butch trope stays undefeated with you two
♱ Why do you need so many bows, also i bought and built this shelf for you to display them all. Will complain but at the same time makes sure everything stays safe and pretty, and delicately handwashes your favoriate jsk with utmost care
♱ Would probably never wear anything to match, but will get into tiny things. A little teacup ring she'll wear cause it reminds her of you, or a fluffy keychain decorated with lace and pearls. Probably wears your socks to the gym, she'd be in all black/grey/navy but then she's moving around and she's flashing everybody with frilly socks. Manny looks at her like she grew a second head, but then quickly pieces it together. You two were dating, and he to her suprise didn't tease her about it... too much
♱ She'd have fun with it though, laying back and snickering, trying on pieces of your collection, having you straddling her as you do her makeup
♱ I personally hate going out so biased, but i imagine she'd enjoy tea parties with you. Nothing super fancy, maybe just spending some time with you baking sweet treats, putting them on a platter and sharing tea from a china set she bought for your birthday. Kinda like an at home date, being all adorable, talking about the new book she's been reading and being happy and lesbian.
♱ As an outsider she does get a little worried about you, seeing how mean some lolita communities can be, so makes sure to let you know how precious you are to her. That you are allowed to wear it, and not feel judged by members of your own community.
♱ On that note, outraged if someone even mutters something under their breath. Out and about people can also be mean or just plain annoying, so she is protective at that. Like no don't touch my girlfriend's dress or hair, no it's not a costume, also fuck you for the classic ''bo peep'' insult, no we won't take a picture for your kid. This girl is your bodyguard and lets others know it.
Spicier?
♱ Loves the texture of lace on her lips, wether it's from a choker, or tights, or even socks. She'd kiss along it before finally reaching your lips.
♱ Same with little hand cuffs, the way the just sit on your wrists, she loves watching your hands trail down her stomach, the frills tickling along her skin
♱ Like i said, tights. Drive her wild everytime, and she has to resist the urge to rip them open cause well... abilletage tights are too pricy for that ˙◠˙ But she just also loves the texture, that soft fabric, sliding her hands over it and gripping your thighs, cupping you over the fabric and watching you squirm
ambessa has absolutely no patience for bratting or mouthing off, she will have you bent over her lap with a quickness. spanking your ass raw, she does not care if you’re crying either. it only takes a time or two for you to learn your lesson.
if she is kind enough to fuck you after you were bad, she will not let you cum. if you do without her permission, god help you.
if you do not communicate with her like a big girl and tell her what’s wrong or what you want she will just ignore you lol. she expects her sweet girl to be on her best behavior, she is patient but very very stern. if you’re a good girl for her and ask nicely you get whatever you want.
sevika is the least patient person lol. she’ll give you a chance before punishing you, if you don’t get it together after an eye brow raises and a “watch it doll”, you’re in for it.
loves to use her strength and manhandle you into her lap to spank you, rough hands leaving red handprints on your ass. It always ends in her fucking you roughly. you get so wet for her, she can’t help it. will edge you a few times, but will give in quickly,, she doesn’t have much restraint when it comes to your pussy.
def the type that if you are arguing with her and she’s had enough, she’ll fuck off to the last drop. if you are being petty to her she WILL be petty back. however she doesn’t like going to bed with you upset at each other, so she’ll begrudgingly patch things up. it’s not that she doesn’t care she’s just stubborn as fuck.
abby is the most patient of the bunch by far, will give you the benefit of the doubt. if you start mouthing off she’ll ask what you need, did you have a bad day? are you hungry, thirsty, need attention?
it does get to a point tho, if she’s actively trying to help you and you’re still mouthing off to her she has no problem asserting her dominance over you. showing her strength by grabbing you and pulling you into her space, looming over you, “are you sure you wanna keep up this act princess?”
she was hesitant to spank you early on in your relationship, too afraid to hurt you. she figured out pretty quickly that you’re a sick girl and like when she hurts you. after that she has no issue giving you what you need.
I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY I LOVE YOU ABBY
ᯓ just Abby being the biggest sweetheart & supportive gf to reader with depression
ᯓ cw: depressed!r x gf!a, afab!r, established relationship, loads of fluff, overthinking, gentle/non-sexual intimacy, comfort, not proofread, men DNI
ᯓ wc: 1.3k
Your apartment is pitch dark when you stumble over the threshold, limbs sore and aching from work an your commute home. To make this day even worse, everyone in town apparently decided to take the exact same bus tonight so you had to stand the entire hour back home.
You kick off your shoes, a light flicking on down the hallway. Abby emerges from your bedroom, a somber smile on her lips. “Hey.”
You let your bag fall to the floor, striding over to her. You wrap your arms tightly around her neck, her own slinging tightly around your waist in return. “Though I’d come by… seems like I made the right choice, hm?”
You don’t answer, don’t need to. Abby just holds you for a few moments longer, lifting you slightly off your tiptoes before letting you back down, trying to make you smile.
“C’mon, let’s get you outa these clothes,” Abby starts, playfully lifting you up again. “and right into bed. That sound good?” She murmurs against your cheek, already carrying you over to your bed.
Talking feels like too much right now, so you just nod. Abby sits you down at the edge of the bed, kneeling down between your legs. “We could watch a movie if you’d like. I brought some gummies.” She suggests softly as she starts helping you undress, pressing occasional pecks to the newly revealed skin.
Your fingers thread through her hair, a hum of agreement passing your lips. You couldn’t be more relieved Abby decided to come over. The way she cares for you with such care and love never fails to lift some of the unbearable pressure off your chest. Ever since your early teens you’ve been struggling with depression; after you met Abby in high school you felt like a completely different person — happier, genuinely joyful for the first time in years.
However, over the years that euphoria began to subside, leaving you with the same feelings you’ve been experiencing since the mere age of thirteen. Some days you feel great, free from worries and anxiety, though it doesn’t take long until that unavoidable void swallows you again. It’s an endless cycle.
“There we go. You wanna wear my hoodie?” Abby asks, ripping you out of your thoughts. You didn’t even notice that, by now, all of your clothes are discarded on a pile on the floor. You nod again, hand sliding from her head to her shoulder, trying to give some of the affection back.
Within seconds Abby has you wrapped in the soft fabric of her hoodie. The shirt she was wearing beneath is familiar, it’s washed-out teal color, the small holes at the hem since she has had this shirt for over a decade already.
Abby quickly dresses you in a pair of your pajama shorts before getting into bed, inviting you under the covers. You crawl over, immediately clinging to her again. “Look at you… so pretty.” Your girlfriend murmurs against the top of your head, a smile gracing her lips. “It’s truly unfair how cute you look in my clothes.”
You look up at her, a small smile tucking at your own lips now. She never fails to make you smile.
“There’s that beautiful smile. My pretty girl… I’m so lucky.” Abby whispers, hand cupping your cheek. Her thumb strokes your cheekbone, making your eyes fall shut. You nuzzle into her palm, cheek smushed against it.
You turn your face to kiss her palm, her own lips pressing against your forehead in return. “Movie?” You request in a whisper, and Abby’s hand immediately darts out to the remote. “Sure, baby. Anything you wanna watch?” Abby replies, to which you simply shake your head.
While your girlfriend picks out a movie, you can’t help but tighten your hold on her. It’s insane how she can make you feel so easy, even when everything feels heavy and dark and cold. She is that little light in a dark room, the warmth in a cold winter night. She’s like all your favorite things combined and turned into one being.
She’s always there when you need her, always there to help and assist, to make you feel loved and cherished and so pretty. No matter how often she compliments you, she still makes you feel special, like the first time you met her.
By now, the movie is already running. Your head is resting on Abby’s chest, her hand rubbing your back, tracing shapes over the fabric of the hoodie. You feel your eyelids grow gradually more tired, however, falling asleep now would feel like a waste.
“Abby?” You whisper, not looking at her. She hums, focused on the movie. Your arms tighten around her abdomen, legs slinging more tightly around hers. “I miss you.”
“I’m right here, babe.” Abby states plainly, still focused on the tv screen. You shake your head, changing in position to look at her. “That’s not what I meant.” You murmur, a sudden wave of self-consciousness washing over you.
“What is it you meant, then?” She asks, not paying mind to the conversation, too caught up in the plot of the movie. Sometimes, you wish she could just read your thoughts instead. “I miss feeling you.” You try again, your words finally attracting her full attention.
“You wanna…?” Abby trails off, gaining a quick shaking of your head. It’s not like you don’t miss that form of intimacy, though, you’ve been way too tired for anything of that sort for quite a while now. It makes you feel like a horrible girlfriend most days.
“Just…” you try, giving up on trying to voice out your request. You start to strip off your clothes, gesturing for Abby to the same. Confusion is plastered in her face, however, she complies regardless. Once both of you are completely bare, you lay down in your previous position again.
“Just hold me.” You mumble, arms tightening around her once more. Abby does exactly what you ask for, hand running up and down your now bare back. You can hear how her heartbeat has speed up, and it makes you feel like the biggest asshole. Just because you cannot handle sex at the moment doesn’t mean that Abby doesn’t either. This is probably single most mean thing you could’ve done right now.
“I’m sorry.” You breath, voice thick with a handful of different emotions. The feeling of her bare skin against yours is extremely grounding, but requesting this might be the most selfish act you’ve done in a while.
“Don’t be. There’s nothing to be sorry about.” She murmurs back, her arms tightening around you even more. You curl up on her, hoping and praying for another few days of easy euphoria, wishing for the times Abby didn’t need to hold back and restrain herself.
“I promise, baby. I’m totally fine, alright?” Abby tries her best to reassure, taking your face into her hands again. You let your face rest there for a moment longer, mumbling a barely audible ‘you sure?’.
“Very sure.” She assures with a smile, squishing your cheeks. The act makes you smile a bit again, Abby’s own doubling in size at that. “But I wouldn’t say no to a few kisses either, y’know?”
You move closer, nudging her nose with your own. Her lips grace your own, waiting for you to initiate. You kiss her, how could you not? Your lips melt together, her hands timidly mapping out your back and shoulders.
After a few more seconds, you pull away, smile now bigger than before. You almost forgot how much these small gestures of love can actually lighten the weight on your chest.
“I love you, abs.” You whisper against her lips, placing a peck there.
“I love you more, baby.”
An: some domestic fluff after that last fic I wrote. This was actually so comforting to write. Thank you for reading!
synopsis: a glimpse into what it feels like to love abby and be loved by her in return.
content warnings: tooth rotting fluff, modern au, abby x reader, established relationship, domestic!abby, abby and reader are living together, soft intimacy, lovesick lesbians.
Being with Abby feels like a gentle, constant pull toward her. Even when you’re in separate rooms, you’re aware of her — the soft thud of cabinets closing in the kitchen, the sound of her pacing while she decides what to cook The apartment holds her presence the way it holds heat.
She likes domesticity more than she admits. Saturday mornings, she’s up at the crack of dawn, because she insists on making you breakfast in bed whenever she can. Hair still messy from sleep, standing at the stove in an oversized T-shirt that used to be yours. The sunlight cuts across her shoulders while she flips pancakes too carefully, like she’s trying to impress you even though you’re half-asleep and extremely biased over literally anything when it comes to her.
You notice her absence in the mornings immediately, the cold of her side of the bed jarring in comparison to the natural warmth she usually generates, engulfing you like a cocoon. You’d always trudge out to the kitchen and admire her form from the doorway, blanket draped messily around your shoulders and eyes half open.
When she notices you, she softens immediately. It’s subtle — her shoulders drop, her mouth curves, her whole posture shifts toward you. You’d always trudge like the effect you have on her. You like how she’s only like this with you, and vice versa.
You slide your arms around her waist from behind, cheek resting between her shoulder blades. She leans back without hesitation, trusting your weight completely, letting you crowd her while she cooks. The smell of coffee, the warmth of her body, the rhythm of something ordinary shared, it’s enough to make your chest feel full.
Abby is attentive in so many ways that don’t feel deliberate. She remembers how you like your toast. She adjusts the thermostat before you even say you’re cold. When you sit on her lap, she automatically spreads her legs slightly so you can fit closer, her hand settling on your thigh like it belongs there.
When she takes you out, it never feels performative. She’s thoughtful, almost shy about it, as if she’s offering you something fragile. Her fingers stay laced with yours as you walk, occasionally squeezing for no reason. She glances at you often.
There’s a quiet pride in the way she looks at you, too. Like she still can’t believe this is her life — that you live together, that she gets to come home to you, that she gets to reach out and touch you whenever she wants.
Back at the apartment, the distance between you always dissolves. Abby gravitates toward you instinctively, pulling you down onto the couch, arranging you so you’re tucked against her side. Her hand drifts under the hem of your shirt without thinking, palm warm against your skin, thumb moving slowly as she watches whatever you put on.
The air feels different in those moments, heavy with familiarity. The kind of closeness that comes from knowing each other completely. She presses her mouth to your hairline, then your temple, then lower, unhurried, as if there’s no place else in the world she’d rather be.
Abby’s definitely gentle, but there’s always that undercurrent — the quiet tension that lingers in the way she holds you with the slight tightening of her grip when you shift, and the warmth of her breath against your neck. It builds naturally, like everything else with her, affectionate first and then something deeper, more private.
At night, she curls around you again, half asleep before her head even hits the pillow. Her hand settles at your waist, fingers flexing once, like she’s making sure you’re still there. The apartment is quiet, the city distant, and Abby breathes steadily against your shoulder.
—
Abby plans the date without making a big deal out of it. You only notice because she’s already dressed when you come out of the bedroom, hair still slightly damp, one of her nicer jackets on instead of the usual hoodie. She’s leaning against the counter with two coffees, watching the door like she’s been waiting there in anticipation for you to walk out.
“There she is,” she coos.
You take the cup she offers, fingers brushing hers. “It’s too early for you to look this beautiful.” You compliment, eyes trailing over her form.
“Thought I’d take my girlfriend out,” she replies, a flush on her cheeks. She says it so simply, like it’s nothing, but her eyes stay on your face a second too long.
Living together means the small things pile up. Your shoes mixed together by the door, her keys always ending up in your bag, the way she checks the stove twice before you leave because she knows you forget. Abby moves through the apartment like you’re built into it.
On the walk, she keeps your hands linked, thumb moving absentmindedly over your knuckles. She does it when she’s content, when she’s thinking, when she’s trying not to stare too openly. You nudge her shoulder.
“You’re being very sweet today.”
“Just today?” she asks mock offended, scrunching her nose down at you.
“Extra sweet.” You correct, smiling.
She hums. “I like you. Makes me act weird.”
“You live with me. That ship has sailed.”
“Still like you,” she says simply, squeezing your hand once.
The café is warm and quiet, and she sits close enough that your knees touch under the table. She listens when you talk in a way that feels almost intense, chin resting on her hand, eyes steady. Every time you pause, she smiles, small and fond, looking at you in a way that suggests you’re the most precious thing on earth.
“I feel like you haven’t blinked, or looked away from me once this entire conversation,” you observe playfully.
“Yeah,” she admits, eyes still locked on you. “I do that.”
“It’s creepy.”
Her mouth tilts. “Well sue me, you’re nice to look at.”
Your foot nudges hers under the table. “Real smooth, Anderson.”
“I try,” she tries to say it coolly, but there’s a flush climbing her neck.
—
Back home, the familiar comfort settles immediately. Jackets tossed aside and the couch pulling you both in like gravity. Abby stretches her arm along the back and you automatically lean into her. She adjusts without thinking, pulling you closer, hand slipping beneath the hem of your shirt to rest against your side as usual.
“So you jus’ planned this date outta nowhere?,” you ask curiously.
“Mhm.”
“How come?”
She shrugs, but her fingers trace slow circles against your skin. “Wanted to spend time with you. Not like we don’t already, but… I don’t know. I like taking you out.”
“You take me everywhere.”
“And I still miss you when you’re in another room.”
You tilt your head to regard her. “Someone sounds a little lovesick.”
“Hmm, probably,” she pretends to think. “You okay with that?”
You lean in, brushing your nose against her jaw. “I live with you. I’m fully enabling it.”
Her breath catches slightly, and her grip tightens at your waist. The movie plays, mostly ignored. She presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth, then another to your jaw, like she can’t help herself.
“Best part of the date?” you ask.
“You,” she says immediately.
“Abby,” you laugh softly. “you’re literally such a sap.”
She nudges your nose with hers. “You like it.”
You settle deeper against her, feeling her relax completely once you’re comfortable. Her chin rests on your head, her hand warm and steady at your side, and the apartment fills with that quiet, shared stillness you’ve built together.
After a moment, she murmurs, almost to herself, “I like coming home with you.”
“You are home,” you reply.
Her arm tightens around you, and she doesn’t let go.
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