#LEAVE HER ALONE ABIGAIL | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lucidfairies · 7 months

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you-know-who [a.a]

pairing: dad's business partner abby anderson x f!reader

summary: abby has been your dad's loyal business partner for quite some time, and she's totally off limits, but that doesn't stop her from appearing in your wet dreams every night. tonight they just happened to come true.

warnings: mdni 18+, dom!abby, sub!reader, virgin!reader, experienced!abby, fingering [r] face riding [r], strap usage [r], strap referred to as cock, pet names, praise, bondage, age gap, slight overstim, breeding kink brrrr

word count: 3.7k

Your dad is good at a lot of things. He's good at business, making deals, and negotiating. But being a dad? Not so much. Sure, you got to go to banquets and beautiful galas, but it wasn't worth the expense of no father figure. The worst part of it all is when he pretends to be present but, in reality, knows nothing about you.

Your best friend, Dina, sat on the end of the bed while you rummaged through your wardrobe, trying to find something nice to wear. "It's just dinner." She said lazily, not looking up from her phone. "Why don't you wear that blue dress with the slit? You look really good in that one." You groaned, turning to face her.

"I wore that one last time, remember? I can't wear it twice in a row. Plus, this is a really big brand deal for my dad. I need to look my absolute best." You continued to contemplate dresses until you finally decided on one. It was black, with a square neckline that always made your cleavage look phenomenal. It hardly came to the middle of your thigh, but sitting at a dinner table, you were sure no one would notice.

"Is you-know-who gonna be there?" Dina asked, setting her phone down as she was suddenly intrigued. She smirked as your face reddened a little.

"Yes, she's going to be there. Gotta look my best. Tonight could be the night." I winked at her.

One good thing about having a dad who's a multi-million dollar CEO is that he tends to have the finest employees of all time working for him - especially Abigail Anderson. You and Dina have a running joke that sometimes you and Abby will hook up because she always eyes you the same way you do her.

Tonight definitely wasn't going to be the night for a multitude of reasons. First, she's 33, and you're 21, which basically throws you out of the competition. Second, your dad was going to be home tonight, which meant you were home tonight. Dina promised that she could cover for you, but you've never taken her up on that opportunity. And last but certainly not least, if your father found out you slept around with his right-hand woman, you would probably be disowned, and she would probably get beheaded.

You held your head high, though, as you began to do your makeup and curl your hair. Once you finished, you slipped the dress over your head and zipped it up with assistance from Dina. "You know, if you throw on and dress and do your makeup, you could come with me. My dad probably wouldn't notice."

"Nah, I'll leave you and your soon to be wife alone for the night. Have fun, baby girl." She kissed your cheek and started collecting her things. You walked her down to the front door, bid her a good bye, then shut the door.

Mere minutes later, a black car pulled up outside the door, and you knew that meant it was time to go. You grabbed a black handbag and heels, then rushed out the door.

When you arrived, you took note of the fact that all of your dad's colleagues' cars were parked together, and there was Abby's black Porsche, looking sleek as ever. You grinned, then remembered where you were and dropped your face back into a neutral position.

As you walked toward their private room, you spotted your father and approached him. "Hey sweetheart," you hugged awkwardly, "grab a seat. We're waiting on five more people." You smiled and nodded, entering the room and analyzing it. There was Abby, with a glorious open seat next to her. You claimed it, placing your handbag on the floor and your napkin in your lap.

Abby looked at you briefly, smirking when you met her eye. She knew she looked hot. You knew it, too. She made a basic white button-down, and gray slacks look so good. You could hardly imagine what she'd look like naked. All that muscle, the veins that popped from her arm. She was a walking wet dream if you'd ever seen one.

"You look good tonight," she whispered, and even over the commotion of the table, you could hear her. "Maybe even better than last time."

"Likewise, Ms. Anderson." You complimented, using the sluttiest voice you could muster. Her cheeks got red and she turned away, jumping into a conversation with the table of people. Your eyes jumped from her sharp jaw to her full lips, thinking about how good she would look between your legs.

This happens every time.

But tonight – tonight was different. Tonight, you decided that you were going to do something about it. I mean, the worst she could do is turn you down, right? You stood, brushing your hand against her thigh as you excused yourself to the bathroom. Once there, you fixed your makeup and pulled your dress down and little at the top, just to make your tits look better.

You left the bathroom, putting a hand on her shoulder as you stepped into and took your seat. "Ms. Anderson," you asked, getting her attention. She immediately looked over to you, eyes dropping to the top of your dress before quickly snapping back up. "Could you pass the water?"

"Yes ma'am," her voice was low and her eyes were dark. She grabbed the pitcher and refilled your glass for you, smiling as she placed it on the table.

Your dad asked you a question about something, but all you could think about was Abby's hand, which was now curiously dragging along your thigh. Your breath hitched, but you played it off with a cough and continued talking.

Suddenly her large, warm hand was under your dress, tracing circles on the inside of your thigh. Your conversation with you dad had come to an end at this point, thank God, because you were seconds away whining and begging her to continue.

Once she was sure that your pussy was aching, she pulled her hand away and cut into her food, taking a bite. Your head was a little dizzy, and you tried to comprehend if that actually happened or not. You needed some way of making this go further. If you went to the bathroom again it would look suspicious, but it seemed like the best plan right now.

"You're going to follow me." You said to her, standing up and walking out of the room. You went into the single bathroom, waiting patiently. Two minutes passed and you got slightly irritated, considering going back. But the door opened, and there was Abby's brooding figure.

"What are you doing, y/n?" She asked, leaning against the bathroom wall. "'Cause it seems a lot like you're trying to get my attention." Your mind was blank. Why did you think this was a good idea? "Do you want my attention, sweetheart?" Abby took a step forward, causing your ass to press gently against the bathroom sink.

"Yes, Ms. Anderson." You ran a hand down her chest and abs, feeling them contrast under your hand. "I want you." You pulled her further into you by her waist, so that her thigh was slotted between your legs.

"Here's what we're gonna do, sugar," she dipped her head so that her hot breath hit your neck, "You're gonna come to my house after dinner in this dress," she kissed your neck lightly, "and I'm gonna fuck you until you know no name but mine." You practically whimpered under her touch. "Yes?"

"Yes." Abby backed up, fixed her shirt, then left the bathroom. You followed minutes later, taking your seat next to her.

The dinner droned on and on, to the point that you wanted to just get up and walk out with Abby on your hip. But you didn't. You suffered through having to listen to brand deals while also thinking about the ache between your legs and everything she's going to do to you.

You wanted her to tie you to her headboard and fuck you with her strap until you came three times, maybe spank you. You wanted her to do bad things to you ‐ but the worst part was that you hadn't actually done anything before.

Finally, finally, your dad closed the deal and the dinner began to come to an end. You shot up, grabbed your bag and rushed to your father. "I'm sleeping at Dina's tonight," you told him. He kissed your head and whisked you away, too high on the feeling of making a new deal that he didn't have time to pay attention to you. "Take me to Abby Anderson's house." You told the driver, who nodded and pulled out of the lot.

You got there before her, awkwardly, and stood outside. She arrived 5 minutes after you, striding toward you with an absolute purpose. "Someone's eager." She said, smirking. She let you in and you sat your bag down, then kicked off your heels. You were so much shorter than her without your heels, and it was oddly hot. "Can I get you anything?" She knew you wanted to fuck, and you weren't having it.

You grabbed her and kissed her roughly, groaning when she grabbed your waist and pinned you to the counter. Her warm tongue breached your lips and massaged yours, with nothing sweet about it. She grabbed the back of your thighs and lifted you onto the island. "I'm so much older than you baby," She mumbled into your neck. "We probably shouldn't do this."

"It turns me on, Ms. Anderson." You moaned as her teeth came into contact with your favorite spot on your neck. You ground your hips into the air, looking for anything with friction.

"Oh, you want me so bad, princess." She mocked, cupping your cunt. You cried out, grinding into her palm. "Have you ever been with a woman?" She asked, grabbing your hips to grind them against her palm.

"N-no one," you whimpered, "I've never been with anyone." You expected her to remove her hand and tell you to leave, that she wouldn't do it, but she didn't. She swiftly lifted you off the island and placed you on the floor.

"I'm gonna ruin you, baby. Now follow me." You took her hand as she led you up the steps and down the hall to her bedroom, where she locked the door. "Take your dress off and lay down." You did as she said, but she disappeared into a room off of her bedroom. You heard the water running while you laid down, and she came back out moments later.

Her hands were washed and she had a strap in one of them that she sat down on the nightstand. She shed her shoes and buttoned down, tossing them in a pile with your dress, then climbed over you. She pushed your knees up around her hips and began kissing your neck lightly. "How many times do you wanna come tonight, honey?"

"Um.." you were practically braindead by that question. "One?" That's all you needed. Not like you had ever done this before. She groaned softly.

"How's three?" You gasped, rolling your hips into hers. "Three’s good then, sugar?" You nodded quickly, running your hands down her torso. She reached behind you and unclasped your bra, pulling it off and tossing it somewhere. You whined as the cold air of her room hit your nipples. Everything suddenly became very real, and it finally clicked that you were laying half naked in your dad's partner's bed while she kneaded your tits and took them in her mouth.

"Oh Abby," you moaned as she bit gently on your nipple. Your head fell back, and you grabbed at her hair to keep her going.

Abby almost came in her boxers after hearing you moan her name. She had wanted this since the day she met you, but never made a move. Her cunt was throbbing, and she was just about ready to hump her bed like she was some kind of high schooler giving head for the first time.

Abby ran her thumb down your pussy over your underwear, moaning at the way you squirmed under her. She ran her finger over your heat again, flicking your clit gently this time.

There was slick surely running down your thighs, but you couldn't focus on that. The thought of making a mess in Abby's bed sounded amazing to you, though.

She kept going with that motion, stopping if you squirmed too much. "Abby.. fuck, I-I need it, please." You begged as she circled your clit rather roughly.

"Need what, princess?" You wanted to pretend like you were sick of the teasing, but you weren't. You liked how desperate she was making you, you wanted to beg for her to touch you. You wanted her to praise you for everything that you did right.

"Need you," you groaned.

"Atta girl," she kissed your thigh as she started dragging your underwear off. "You're doing so well, baby." Her eyes went wide as she realized actually how wet you were, basking in the idea that it was all for her.

Abby started sucking a hickey into your thigh as you whined under her, grabbing at her braid. "Abby," you pulled her up. "Take out your braid." She did as told, pulling the ponytail out and putting it around your wrist. She looked impossibly better with her blonde hair down.

After many more moments of teasing, she finally licked a strip up your cunt, making you throw your head back and groan. She sucked and flicked your clit, finding a perfect rhythm that you loved. It didn't take long for your stomach to tighten, but when she slowly pushed her middle finger into you, you knew you were gone.

She pumped it lightly, making sure you could take it, before adding her ring finger. She curled them, hitting something that was too much, but felt so good at the same time. "T-too much, Abby," I moaned, eyes squeezed shut as you tried to squirm away from her fingers. She didn't stop, though, with every pump of her fingers she hit that spot, making your head spin. "Abs, ah, I'm gonna- fuck,"

"That's it, baby. Cum on my fingers." Your back arched off the bed, and your vision went white as you did as told, coming on her fingers. It felt like hours of her coaxing you through it, but in reality it had only been a couple seconds. "You did so well, princess."

You were sure you looked blatantly unattractive, covered in sweat with your hair all messed up, but Abby was looking at you like you were the only woman in the world. Like she wanted to fuck the everlasting shit out of you.

Abby, on the other hand, looked phenomenal. You wanted to take a picture of her right now and keep it forever. Make it your wallpaper, print it, fuck yourself to it. Her hair was frizzy from you yanking on it, her eyes were dark. But probably the hottest thing was the spit that was covering her chin, and it was obviously from you, which made everything so much better.

She wiped her face on the back of her hand, then laid next to you. "I want you to ride my face, pretty girl." You sat up on your knees, looking at her with wide eyes.

"But.." you wanted to, you truly did. But you knew nothing about how to do it. "What if I suffocate you?" She shrugged.

"Worth it." She sat up, tugging you forward by your hips until you were sitting in her lap. "It's easy. You won't even have to do anything but sit. I'll do the rest." She smirked as you pushed up, moving towards her face until your cunt was right over her mouth. You were suddenly conscious of everything, wondering if she would be weirded out with anything you had going on, even though she already ate you out once.

She grabbed your hips and pulled you down, making you squeak a little. You could've sworn the world stopped when she started moving her tongue. The angle was better than when you were laying down, and you could watch her. You reached down and grabbed her hair, forcing her head up. You were moaning louder than you had ever, head back with your eyes squeezed shut.

Abby was sure she was going to pass out. Not from lack of air, but from the fact that she had an absolutely gorgeous girl on her face, whining her name and begging for her to continue everything she was doing.

Abby moved one of her hands from your hip to her belt, unclipping it single handedly, and unzipping her pants. She was going to wait, rub one off after you had already left, but she couldn't anymore. She teased herself briefly before slipping two of her fingers between her folds, bucking up into her hand.

She was moaning into your pussy, using one of her hands to rub your clit. You wished she could talk because you loved her praise, but if this is what you got in return for not talking, you were fine with it.

"I'm gonna cum, baby," you ground your hips into her face as your stomach came undone and you came for the second time. You were so exhausted, so ready to curl up in her arms and go to sleep, but at the same time, you wanted to keep going, wanted to see what she'd do to you.

She tapped your thigh a few times and you wobbled up, falling into the bed next to her. "I'm tired," You tell her, fingers tracing circles on her chest. "But I want you to tie me up." You looked up at her, putting on an innocent expression, even though your thoughts were absolutely not innocent.

Abby's eyes widened. She hasn't tied someone up since she was like 20, but she was trying to take into account that you were young and still trying to figure out what you were into. And, I mean, tying you up definitely wasn't the worst thing someone could ask for.

So she did. With rope. You loved the way it felt around your wrists, loved the way you were bound to her headboard.

Abby slid her pants off, leaving her boxers and sports bra, which both fit her phenomenally. Your stomach flipped as she grabbed the strap from her nightstand and slipped it up to her hips. She came back over you, sitting up on her knees briefly while she pushed one of your legs up so that it was pressed against your chest.

She looked up at you and you gave her a nod. She gently ran the tip of the strap across your clit and down your folds, making you shiver. “Hurry up, Abs.” You groaned, pushing your hips into the air, trying to take her.

“Patience, darling.” She pushed the tip of her strap into your cunt, and the intrusion burned a little. It was as if your body wanted to push it out and keep it in at the same time. Once you could handle that, she pushed another inch in, waiting for your okay. She went inch by inch until her cock was bottomed out, all of it stretching you open and making you feel amazing.

Abby groaned, head lolling back as the strap pressed perfectly onto her clit. She pushed your other leg up to your chest, holding it softly as she started moving, pulling out just a little before thrusting back in. She wanted to go slow for you, gentle, but she could barely stop herself from fucking into you as hard and fast as she could.

The more comfortable you got, the less easy it was to contain herself. She moved faster, watching your eyes squeeze shut as you moaned. You liked her being rough, you loved how her cock rubbed against your little bundle of nerves every time she fucked into you, everything about it.

"Gonna put a baby in you, sugar," she groaned into your neck as her head fell. "What would your daddy think of that, hm?" Your moans filled the room and the headboard slamming against the wall filled the thick air of the room.

She pushed your legs apart, pressing herself farther onto you as she started sucking hickeys into your neck. She knew she was close, but she wanted to finish with you, so she held it back for as long as she could. That didn’t work very well - she came moments later, moaning into your neck as her thrusts got sloppy. You hardly noticed, too caught up with your own satisfaction.

She kept going, every roll of her hips bring both you and herself closer to your peaks. Again. Your stomach tightened and you threw your head back, screaming her name as you came around her cock. She practically collapsed on top of you as her orgasm hit her hard and fast.

She laid on you for a second before pulling out and rolling off, taking the strap off and tossing it off the bed. “Was that everything you wanted it to be, pretty girl?” She asked, still panting as she wiped a thin layer of sweat off of her forehead.

“Even better.” You said, throwing your arm over your arms. “What do we do now?” You asked lazily, praying to god that she wouldn’t kick you out. That would be extremely embarrassing.

“All you have to do is lay there and look pretty, hun.” She purred. She could make you wet again just from her words, even though you had absolutely nothing left in you. The bed shifted as she got up, walking into the bathroom. The water ran and you sat up, watching as she came back with a cloth hand towel.

Wordlessly, she grabbed your legs and spread them, wiping you off everywhere. You hummed as the warm water washed everything off of you, relaxing into her touch. She massaged your legs and even went as far as giving you a pair of boxers and a t-shirt so that you could sleep over. “Do you do this for all the girls you have over?” You asked. Your back was pressed to her front, her arm thrown over your waist.

“Nah,” she kissed your neck. “Only you, baby. Only you.”

a/n: thanks for reading <333 requests are open

#abby anderson #abby tlou #abby the last of us #abby x reader #abby smut #breeding k1nk #overstim kink #tlou #tlou2 #tlou modern au #abby x fem!reader #abby x you #abby #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader #maya writes

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purplesuitcowboy · 23 days

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tw: rape and incest

During college, Abigail had gotten into pilates. All of the girls on her hall did it together every Saturday. They all get dressed in their work out gear, line up their brightly colored yoga mats on the campus green and run through the sequences of movements together as a group. If she needed help, she could always count on one of the other girls to help her stretch or show her the proper form for a movement. It was a nice atmosphere and Abigail found herself looking forward to it every week.

Coming home for summer break, Abigail promised herself that she would keep up her pilates practice at home so she wouldn't be out of practice when the school year started back up in the fall. By herself, she sat up her yoga mat in the back yard and began to run through the movements. Downward facing dog.. breathe..stretch and then gently shift into plank...breathe..stretch. She was so busy running through the movements that she didn't notice her dad who was watching her from the back porch. She was laying down with her back on the mat and her legs open, spread out like she was doing the splits.

"What are you doing over there, babydoll?" He asked her, leering at her young nubile body from his perch on the porch. Those leggings on her where absolutely sinfully, clinging to her round ass and full hips. From his vantage point, he could just see the outline of her puffy pussy lips through the thin material of her leggings. It didn't seem like she was wearing any panties under her leggings. Truly, it was blessing that his wife and son where out leaving him alone with his daughter.

"Just pilates, daddy. Actually, can you come down here and help me stretch?"

"Sure," he told her, walking over to join her. "Just tell me what you want me to do." He'd thought about adjusting his hard on so that she wouldn't see it but decided against it. She was a big girl. She could handle knowing what her body did to her daddy. It might even help her, maybe, convince her to be more thoughtful about what she wore around me.

"Press my legs down."

He settled between her open legs, and placed his hands on her thighs pushing down on them like he was trying to drive them into the ground.

"That feels great. Thank you," she took a deep breath, and tried to relax into the stretch.

"You're real flexible now aren't you, baby?" He told her appreciatively. He was loosing focus on the goal of the activity, running his hands down her legs. He hadn't been this hard in years. She just giggled and waved him off while she adjusted her legs, bringing them together and then pulling them towards her like she was trying to kiss her knees. When she was settled, he resumed trying to help her stretch. With his hands place on the backs of her calves, he pushed her legs towards her. In their new position, Abigail could easily feel her dads hard cock pushing against her cunt. Experimentally, he rolled his hips against her, rocking his cock against her. The head of his cock brushed against her clit, forcing a reluctant gasp out of Abigail's lips.

"Daddy, this is wrong." She told him, trying to push him off of her. He grabbed her wrists, and pinned them above her head with one of his hands so she couldn't stop him. Her legs fell on either side of him as he positioned himself between her legs. She bucked again trying to get him off of her but he was too heavy. He adjusted his hold on her, one hand holding her wrists, and on tightly gripping her hip as he continued to rut into her. Her pussy gushed liquid, soaking into and darkening the crotch of her leggings.

"We're outside what if the neighbors see," she tried again, changing tactics.

"I don't care who sees now either we can do this the easy way or the hard way, either way I'm getting me some of this," he punctuated his statement by groping one of her ass cheeks. "Now take of these leggings or I'll take them off you myself."

Abigail worriedly chewed on her lip as she looked around at the surrounding houses. All someone would have to do was look out of their window to see the two of them. She was filled with fear but also the thrill of doing something risky, the anticipation that anything could happen. Hesitantly, she rolled the bottom of the leggings off of her ass, and down her legs. Carelessly, her father pulled them off of her legs and deposited them on the ground beside her. Releasing her wrists, he pushed her legs open, revealing her little pink pussy.

"That's a good girl. God, you've got a pretty pussy," he told her.

"Don't say that, you're making me feel weird," Abigail replied, covering her eyes with her hands so she wouldn't have to see. Despite her horror, she found herself peaking at him from between her fingers.

He dipped his head between her legs, caressing her folds with his tongue. He alternated between licking up and down her slit, and gently sucking on her clit. All the while, Abigail moaned and whimpered behind her fingers. "Delicious." As he licked and sucked, he worked a thick finger into a tight cunt, pumping it in and out, and then he added another. Abigail's moans increased in volume as he fucked her with his fingers. Her mind was reeling, she'd masturbated before but it never felt this good.

Eventually, the pleasure won out and she gave up on hiding behind her fingers, resting her hands on her fathers head as she grinded her cunt onto his fingers and tongue. It just felt so good. She wanted more, she wanted him deeper. It just wasn't enough.

"Fuck, baby. You got me all worked up," her father told her as he pushed himself off of her, his hands rushing to his belt so he could pull out his fat cock. She gasped at the sight of it, trying to wriggle away from him. He clambered over her and positioned the head of his dick against her tight hole.

"Wait, daddy. Don't," she begged, breathlessly. His mouth and fingers had felt amazing but surely, this was a step too far.

"No, can do buttercup," he told her. "I want this cunt now and you are not gonna stop me. God couldn't stop me from fucking this sweet pussy." In one fluid motion, he thrust his full length into her tight cunt. Abigail squealed and her eyes teared up as she was suddenly stretched and filled completely by her fathers big dick. Showing great foresight, he covered her mouth with his hand, dampening the sound of her cries.

"Shh, baby, you don't want the neighbors to see, right?" he told her, as he began to rock his cock in and out of her tight channel. As he found his rhythm, Abigail's squeals of pain became moans of pleasure. Satisfied that she wouldn't scream, he removed his hand from her mouth and pushed up her sports bra, freeing her tits from the confines of her tight top. They bounced in time with her father's thrusts.

"You feel so good, baby. Your little pussy feels so good on your daddy's fat cock."

Abigail slid her hand between her legs and rubbed her clit as her father fucked her. With the additional sensation, she quickly brought herself to orgasm, writhing on her father's cock as she came. Her cunt squeezed him like a vice, pushing her father to his own orgasm. He shot his thick load into her cunt, filling her up with his cream. He pulled out of her with a grunt, and rolled over, laying next to her with his back on the grass. He checked his watch. They wouldn't be back home for another couple of hours, that was totally enough time for another round or two.

#cnc fr33use #cnc k!nk #1cky daddy #daddy k!nk #rap3 fantasy #rough cnc #rough kink #1cky thoughts #abuse k1nk #fauxc3st #fauxcest #fr33use

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itsbecomeblue · 1 month

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glue 002 ellie williams imagine

don't dare forget about palestine

sinopse: you might have a crush on your friend, college!au

cw: swearing, basically fluff, ellie plays soccer, puppy love again because that's my thing, slightly nerdy loser!ellie, reader and ellie are oblivious, not explicit if reader is fem or masc, not exactly proofread.

you had been up all morning, not up really, awake. it was 11:43 when you actually got up, sick to your core. niyah had checked on you before she left for her classes, leaving you some cash for lunch, it's not like you didn't have any but niyah just felt like a mom sometimes. she also gave you a forehead kiss.

you rubbed your eyes while your other hand hugged your aching stomach. you grabbed your phone and squinted at the brightness of the screen.

“shit fuck.” you hissed, boy did your head hurt. you had suspicions that ellie had made so much nervousness pile up in you that it was threatening to explode your head and your poor stomach.

you had always been a little… anxious and got nervous when you hung out with new people, especially without your best friends. they were your safe space, you smiled sweetly thinkin about them, so you read over the texts on your group chat ‘take ur meds’. never the instagram one, because it's just your friend luana spamming instagram reels.

you laughed at your phone, turning it off just to wait for your friends to show up, you knew they would. you grabbed a piece of fruit and sat down again.

you grabbed your little notebook where you did all of your journaling, you always read some pieces before actually writing in it, so you did that. ‘ellie’ this ‘ellie’ that, from just last night before you got sick. but maybe you had already been sick from the moment she stepped into the room.

sick in your stomach, crippling nervousness. you and ellie hung out so much 1 on 1, so you assumed that's what happens when two anxious people get together to talk alone, even though you had known each other for a while now. you didn't give it much thought, well maybe you did. you wrote in pink ink...

‘she's so cute’ ummm late night thoughts were so funny to read over, right? just hilarious. ‘ellie williams #8’ adorned with stars and hearts? you were already sick last night, for sure!

on the other side of campus, ellie was at class but her mind was on the same side of campus as yours. ellie was very much in tune with her feelings for you, she'd say. ‘we're so awkward, we need to get closer!’ that's all you two needed, right? just that. she sighted, you looked at her adorned name in your notebook, she imagined your face adorned with flowers and asteroids?

she needs to pay attention in class! she'll think about you later, she wants to text you but she'll see you at lunch anyways so she decides against the text. ellie tried her best to focus on her boring class, impatiently waiting to see you again.

abby had texted you a few to let you know she was coming over, she was your childhood friend, inseparable at that. caring and loving, gentle giant abigail anderson. she was now on your carpet in front of you bed.

“so, did you take your meds?” she laughed, abby was a med student and definitely a good one but damn her she didn't know shit about pharmacy.

they might’ve teached her some of it, but this girl had very selective memory, it's not like you know what they teach at med school anyway. but you still thought she should cure you everytime you got sick, all your other friends agreed too.

“yep, i looked it up. turns out my friend being in med school doesn't serve me anything.” you stretched my leg to touch her with your feet and she gave you a disgusted look.

“you're such a bitch to me, i came to see you, sick girl.” she grabbed you by the ankle and pulled you with no force.

“abbyyy!” you laughed and tried yanking your feet back and she used more of her strength. she laughed with you and you felt less sick.

you two kept it up until you were falling off your bed onto her, she grabbed your torso, manhandling you so you looked at her. she looked mischievous, she had something up her sleeve.

“how's our favorite soccer star?” she smirks and you look scared, head jumping up and hitting hers. “hey! ouch lil girl…”

she soothed her head before soothing yours, with harsh pats... you weren't sure if she was soothing you or actively making it worse. you both laughed again, what the hell was wrong with you? you had slipped out of her thighs and sat on the carpet, right next to her.

“she's…” you coughed. “she's alright, i saw her yesterday.” you nodded to yourself and abby nodded back.

“right… right…” abby stared at you, smirk still in her lips, waiting for something.

you thought of what she might’ve wanted you to say. you used your brain so much that you realized something, eyes widened and eyebrows furrowed.

"what? you look like you developed your first thought.” she chuckled and you looked frightened.

“i forgot to tell her i'm sick.” you searched for your phone around the carpet and the bed.

“why would you have to tell her?” abby leaned back, watching you look for you phone.

"you know, even if she was a nurse in your wet dream, i don't think she can help.” she added when you ignored her.

“abby.” you actually slapped her nape and she hissed. “we were supposed to have lunch together, i don't wanna be rude and leave her hanging.”

“oooohh you're bailing her on your lunch date.” abby loved pressing your buttons and she knew which ones to press.

“yeah, our date at the campus cafeteria, abigail.” you found your phone under a pillow, one that you were sure you checked before. whatever, you texted ellie.

“abigail is crazyyy…” abby got up and peeped your phone from behind and you pushed her face, the fat on her cheek smushed. “sweetness, let me see.”

abby had a big sweet tooth growing so when you became friends, her dad started calling you tooth and sweetness, since she could never get enough of you. she clinged to it even now, when she was being nice but really often when she pissed you off.

“fine, tooth.” you caressed the cheek you had pushed. she laughed and playfully bit your shoulder as you turned off your phone.

“it's fine, y/n. she'll understand, of course.” abby slurred, you turned to her.

“yeah, i know. i wanted to see her though.” you rubbed your nose sitting on the carpet again, followed by abby.

“you'll see her soon, it's alright.” she patted your head and you looked at her blankly. “what? don't wanna see me too?” she pushed you head and snickered.

“i do, stop abby!” you laughed, pushing her back.

“you gotta crush and now you're gonna abandon me and lua.” she shook her head. “you won't abandon niyah because you live with her, but who knows! you might move in with ellie.”

“what are you even talking about?” you chuckled at her while she tried to maintain a serious face. “i'm not abandoning anyone.”

"AHA! so you do have a crush on ellie, lil girl…” she laughed loud, slapping her knee, now it was your turn to maintain a serious face while she laughed.

“first, you’re not funny. second, i don't have a crush on anyone.” she arched her eyebrow you held her temples, pressing her eyebrows back to their place. “stop, i don't”.

“be for real with me, pookie wookie.” you cringed hard with her.

“you can leave.” you both laughed so loud until she stopped and tapped your lap. “but she makes me nervous.”

“i know she does, might be something, don't you think?”

“mmm, i don't think so, we're both pretty anxious people so…” you shrugged and abby did too, she'd never pry.

“you might be right, time will tell.” she casually says as gets up. “you wanna order some? “i'm hungry.” you nod and she takes her phone out.

ellie on the other hand, is frowning at your texts, she's upset she won’t see you and she's upset you're sick. she immediately texted her friends dina and jesse about it, asking to have lunch with them instead.

she'd waited for them to meet up with her on campus, holding her phone. she wanted to text you again, but you probably needed rest so she opted out to spam texting cat, who wouldn't reply to the groupchat texts. cat was a fucking ghost most of the times, even when they dated... girl gets busy. when dina and jesse finally got there they walked together.

“y/n bailed on you, damn.” jesse shook his head ironically and dina rolled her eyes.

“shut up, jesse.” dina tickled his ear and smirked. they were walking towards the local subway.

“yeah shut up, she's sick dude.” ellie replied, with little to no humor.

her friends noticed. her hands were in her jeans pockets and she was looking down, jesse and dina knew her all to well to know she was even just slightly upset. childhood friends are like that, you'd know. abby was exactly like that with you.

“what's wrong?” jesse asked, palming her shoulder. dina stopped walking but ellie kept going, making them get back to walking too.

“nothin’. it's dumb, i just miss y/n or whatever.” ellie slurred, looking at her sneakers. jesse and dina chucked and she snickered.

“okay, okay. my bad.” jesse looked sternly at dina so she'd stop laughing. “you had plans?”

“actually yeah, i was gonna invite her to see me play saturday.” she looked up.

“it's wednesday, man. you can ask her later.” jesse started. “right?” he looked for ellie's eyes.

“as in a date?” dina asked, not afraid to. ellie was always open with them, she wasn't embarrassed by her feelings even though sometimes she was confused.

“nah, not a date. and yes i can ask later, but i get nervous and… i dunno.” she held her fingers as she sighed.

“just say it, els.” dina chuckled, jesse and ellie chuckled back.

“yeah, alright. i want her to see me play but i get nervous to ask and i thought i’d do it today.” ellie laughed at herself. dina and jesse nodded, they understood her.

“it's alright, you will ask. don't worry, she's gonna be thrilled.” jesse slapped ellie's back and dina looked at him in disgust.

"thrilled" dina mocked jesse, holding her fingers up as quotes.

they all busted out laughing as they got closer to the subways shop, talking about the saturday game, but never distracted ellie from the thoughts of you.

taglist: @mikellie @amberputh @ellslvr @elliesactualgirlfriend @macaroni676 @onlinelesbo @aispike @kalyxvfx @ellieschair

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hardlyinteresting · 3 months

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Personal

Aaron Hotchner x reader

A case hits a little too close to home for the reader. Hotch makes sure she knows she not alone even as they struggle to decide if they're colleagues, friends, or something more.

Warnings: female reader, (I've given her the nickname Sweets), No physical description of reader, mildly graphic descriptions of injuries, cannon-compliant themes of violence, themes of past domestic violence, mild hurt/comfort, I am not a profiler so there are likely mistakes in the profile (please let me know if there are any warnings you'd like me to add. Aaron Hotchner Masterlist | Send Requests

Word count: 3.2K

"Hope is a gift. You can't choose to have it. To believe and yet to have no hope is to thirst beside a fountain" Ann-Marie MacDonald

The case comes in early in the morning. Aaron has hardly managed a sip of his coffee when the phone rings with a call from a local P.D. in Aberdeen, Virginia. It's urgent. It always is. He cannot begrudge the haste with which his job forces him to chug down the scalding liquid in his mug as he calls upon Garcia to prep the relevant files for the case. It's not the first time, and it certainly won't be the last. Sufficiently caffeinated (albeit with a burnt tongue), and briefed on the case, Hotch calls the team to meet him in the conference room.

His colleagues seem to be in good spirits today. With a passing glance around the room Hotch silently completes a behavioural checklist for each of them in his mind. No one on the team seems over-exhausted, overtly anxious, or withdrawn. They chat amongst themselves, teasing and joking like siblings as they wait for him to settle into the remaining seat at the table. He nods at Penelope, “Garcia, let's get started”. With a quick “yes, sir,” she presses a button on the remote to begin the briefing.

This morning the police in Aberdeen discovered the body of a woman left propped up against the wall outside a local medical clinic. Abigail Lawson. 27 years old. She had been badly beaten. A single stab wound. No sign of sexual assault.

“Cause of death?” Prentiss asks.

“Blunt force trauma to the head,” Garcia supplies the response.

“And she's the first?” Morgan follows up.

“Two weeks ago Stella Amos, twenty-five, was admitted to hospital with similar injuries. She passed away two hours later. A punctured lung”.

The photographs of the injuries are disturbing. After years on the job, the images never seem to get less brutal. A chill travels down his spine as he looks over the extent of the wounds on both of the women. A hush falls over the room as everyone else takes a moment to swallow down their own shock and compartmentalize their feelings of disgust. They train themselves, scanning the photographs and notes for the facts they can work with in hopes of saving anyone else from meeting the same fate.

“No stab wound. Are we sure these cases are connected?” Reid surveys the provided facts one more time.

“Similar age, hair colour. They were from the same neighbourhood. Steady jobs,” Rossi lists, “there's a pattern in victimology to be sure”.

“They could be unconnected acts of domestic violence,” Morgan posits before continuing, “but leaving these women at medical centres is unique. Could be remorse”.

“A man who beats women within an inch of their lives before dropping them off for medical attention. It's a big risk. Knowing they might survive to identify him”.

Hotch nods at the assessment. He had followed the same thought process himself when he got the call.

“Maybe he's banking on them being too afraid to talk if they do pull through,” another voice in the room speaks up for the first time this morning. Sweets, the team calls her. An affectionate nickname that’s stuck since her first week on the team. “the stabbing is an escalation and these are high-risk victims. This UNSUB isn't worried about getting caught. These attacks are personal to him somehow”. It's an important assertion, and something they'll need to consider as they build and expand their working profile.

He's glad to hear Sweets adding to the conversation. She's never been shy when contributing to the team's brainstorms, and he had begun to worry when it had taken her so long to speak up. He doesn't miss the wobble in her tone, or the way she now avoids eye contact. She’s a valuable team member, and despite being the most recent addition she’s settled herself flawlessly over the last year. Aaron is well aware of the poor retention rate for new team members in the BAU and has continued to be impressed by her ability to hang on to her brand of optimism and take their most difficult cases in stride. She’s worked hard to see the best in people, and unsurprisingly endeared herself to those around her; himself included.

At first, Hotch had been grateful for her unique perspective from her experience working for victim services. Then, he grew to appreciate her attention to detail, and the way his piles of paperwork seemed smaller and smaller at the end of each week. She quickly became a friend and a confidant after long nights in the office, and the field. Now, their relationship lies in limbo somewhere between friends and something more.

Lately, the tugging at his heartstrings has grown nearly painful. All the old cliches leave his heart racing and he feels like a teenager whenever her hand brushes against his own. A night out with the team had ended with her curled up in his bed the next morning, and he’s been a goner ever since. It's been weeks, she hasn’t mentioned it, so neither has he. The guise of professionalism makes it easy to shove down his insecurities, and recurring fears; his age; his scars, physical and metaphorical; the weight of his career; he pushes them to the back of his mind. He does not dare to hope. He does not allow himself to consider the reasons why she might want to keep him at arm's length. It hurts less that way. “Whatever the case we've got a week before he strikes again,” Hotch confirms, his mind focused on the case, “we should head out”.

It’s August, and the sun is nearly blinding; the heat and humidity are intolerable, but nobody complains as they split up between the most recent crime scene, the morgue, and the precinct. Hotch would never admit it, but he’s glad when the woman who occupies half his thoughts volunteers to head to the station with JJ. Not for his peace of mind, but hers. Driving into the town he had seen her hands fidgeting in the back seat of the Suburban. Something about this case is already weighing on her, and he doubts the discomfort of the summer calefaction will be much help. He tries not to think about it any more than that.

The crime scene doesn’t tell them much more than they already knew. There’s no security footage to help them identify the UNSUB. But, the way he leans the victims to sit against the way rather than just dumping them shows some kind of warped sense of concern for their well-being. The women are likely substitutes for someone else. He was likely raised in a violent home. He can only hope that the rest of the team has managed to learn more.

Sweets is glad that the station had the forethought to move a coffee maker into the room they’ve set up for the BAU team to work out of. In her short time on the team, she’s learned how essential caffeine is to the function of herself and her teammates. Not enjoying coffee is not an option. Cream and sugar make it tolerable to those who despise the bitter taste. As she preps her second cup of the day she watches Spencer dump 4 packets of sugar into his mug. Whatever gets you through the case. She reminds herself.

“Defensive wounds on her arms, but her manicure wasn't chipped. There was no blood or skin under her fingernails. No bruising on her knuckles,” Morgan shares what he and Rossi learned at the morgue, “She held her arms up to protect herself, but she didn't fight back. She didn't scratch, claw, or punch her assailant”.

“She probably knew him then,” Prentiss says, “He’s not sneaking up on these women. But, he has the advantage and control required to attack them head-on”.

The profile continues to build and Sweets pulls further in on herself. The personal nature of the attacks leaves her nauseous. Flickers of memories she’s fought hard to forget flash behind her eyes, but she forces herself to stay in the room. Reign it in, she wills herself. Without looking across the room she knows Aaron’s eyes are on her. Her cheeks warm though she can’t be sure if it’s his gaze or her anxiety to blame. She tries not to read into it, not wanting to feel too self-important. It’s his job to watch everyone on the team, she knows that. It doesn’t mean anything, she reminds herself the same way she has since she woke up next to him all those weeks ago. She doesn't want attention because she slept with him, and she'd be silly to think it meant anything to him anyway. It's easier to ignore it. He hasn't mentioned it, so she hasn't either.

Despite her best efforts, she does like him. More than she should. Normally, the attention would leave her with butterflies fluttering in her chest, like a schoolgirl with a crush. But today, she feels too seen, too exposed. she focuses her attention on controlling the unwanted emotions this case continues to dredge up. Aaron has seen her undressed, he’s seen her let down her walls and crack jokes. He knows her better than the rest of the team, but this is not a side of her he needs to see.

Under the table she plants her feet, pressing the soles of her boots hard against the linoleum. She reminds herself who she’s with and why she’s here. When she’s able to breathe without gagging she speaks up, “If it looks like domestic violence maybe that’s exactly what it is”. Hotch’s head tilts up, his eyes moving off of the files he’s been pretending to read for the hundredth time, “What do you mean?”

“This morning Morgan said these murders looked like cases of DV. Maybe that’s exactly what this is. We know he had some kind of relationship with the victims-- maybe they were dating him,” Sweets holds her breath waiting for a response.

“It would help to explain the gaps in our profile-- Prentiss, call Garcia and have her look into any recent purchases by the victims. New clothes, new shoes, restaurants, anything that might suggest they’ve been dating,” Hotch instructs, “Sweets, you and JJ should speak to their friends and family; ask if they’ve mentioned anyone new in their lives”.

Like with any case, she hopes her insight helps, that her perspective and thinking might get them one step closer to finding the UNSUB before anyone else gets hurt; and that they might be able to bring closure to the families of the victims.

She's learned that personal experience can help as much as it can hinder. Seeing things from an angle that no one else can is certainly an advantage, but it doesn't make it easy to live with either. But, her stomach churns. His face. His touch. The bruises he left behind. She tries to remember she has nothing to be ashamed of. She has nothing to hide. It's no secret everyone on the team struggles with different types of cases, JJ has always found it difficult working cases involving children, and Hotch becomes snappier when they're searching for family annihilators.

She can feel Aaron's eyes on her again. She prays the twisting in her gut and the scratching in her mind are worth it.

The next morning begins with news of a third victim. A Jane Doe was found outside the fire station. Aged between 22 and 25. Beaten beyond any kind of recognition. The M.E. will have to try to use dental records to ID her.

The crime scene photographs are a gruesome addition to the already horrific crime board in the conference room. “It would take an incredible amount of rage and power to beat someone to death like this,” Rossi points out.

Hotch’s fingers buzz. His usual ground method of rubbing his thumb and forefinger together isn't working. He clenches and unclenches his fist willing the memory of bone cracking, and blood splattering beneath his knuckles away. He hates that even years after his death George Foyet continues to find new ways to sink his teeth in; the mere memory of him is enough to leave bile rising in the back of Aaron's throat.

Their profile is ready. A white male, mid 20s to early 30s. Traditionally attractive. He's well-groomed and takes pride in his appearance. He more than likely works in an office setting. At work, his desk is neat and well-organized. He does everything by the book. He aspires to a role above his own and will talk about it often. In his eyes, he's overworked and under-appreciated; but, in reality, it's his quick temper and outward frustration that have kept him in his menial role. He may be flirtatious towards the women around him but likely won't pay them any attention when it comes to business matters. As a child he would have grown up in a working-class household, and more than likely faced abuse at the hands of his father. As a teenager, he learned to place blame on his mother for this abuse and began looking down on her the same way his father did. But no amount of hatred could ever win him his father's attention. This made him hate his mother more and allowed his misogynistic views to solidify in adulthood. He will have a history of violence throughout school and early adulthood, and more than likely charges for battery or assault.

A call from Garcia confirms that the first and second victims both had paid for dinners at restaurants within the same two-block stretch despite living and working on opposite sides of town. Their cards had been used at the restaurants only 25 minutes before their attacks.

“And he didn’t pay for their dinners either. Chivalry really is dead,” Prentiss dismisses. Predictably, their collective disdain for the UNSUB continues to grow as they learn more about him. Penelope manages to rustle up security footage from one of the restaurants, she's unable to get a facial ID on the man leaving with the first victim but promises to search for other footage from the area and call back when she has a new lead. One step closer, Hotch reminds himself.

Twenty minutes later word from the M.E. Office arrives. A positive ID on Jane Doe. Grace McKinney, 24. Aaron watches as Sweets pins a photograph of Grace to the victims' board. Her hands shake as she takes a step back, and then she's rushing out of the room before he can ask if she's alright.

His body feels lead-heavy, his limbs so hebetudinous that he’d swear he was melting into the floor if it weren’t for his feet carrying him out of the room without instruction. Sweets is doubled over in the alleyway behind the station, remnants of her breakfast splashed across the ground. She has nothing left to bring up, but still she dry heaves as if trying to expel more than the contents of her stomach. He knows the feeling.

“Sweets?” his voice starles her, and Hotch is quick to hold his hands out in a surrendering motion as he approaches, “Are you alright?” He knows the real answer, and he knows that she’ll look right at him and lie; but he asks anyway. “Are you asking as my boss, or as my friend?” She asks. “Would it make a difference?” it’s his turn to wonder. Finally close enough to touch her, he places a hand on her back. It’s impossible to miss the shiver that runs up her spine. Sweets hides her face, angling herself away from her, shrinking in on herself. She tries to hide from him, as unwilling as ever to show any kind of weakness real or perceived. “I’m asking as someone who cares,” Hotch tries again, snuffing out the burning sensation that seems to grow in his chest; his fear of vulnerability fighting hard to shut him down. He won’t let it. “It’s me,” she tells him as if it’s obvious. “Yes”. He's confused. Of course, it's her, he can see her standing right in front of him. “It's me. I'm the Jane Doe; Grace. Abigail. Stella”. His heart stops. She continues, looking at him for the first time, her eyes tearing up, “Not literally-- I just mean…”

“The victimogy. I understand. Same age, hair colour, similar backgrounds--”

“Yes,” She admits, “but we see cases with women who look like me all the time”.

Aaron nods, taking her openness as an opportunity to guide her out of the alleyway, waiting patiently for her to continue in her own time. “I had a boyfriend a few years ago…I just-- I need some time to collect myself”.

Again, Aaron nods, understanding, “Would you like me to leave?”

She shakes her head, her hand shooting up to hold to his arm. She’s shaking less now than she was before. More than ever he wants to hold her, but he doesn’t want to overstep; and during a case, there are lines he cannot cross as her boss. It’s the crux of the predicament they’ve found themselves in. Their personal lives and feelings bleeding and blending to create this strait. Deep down, he’s sure that a line of open communication between them would ease this impasse, but he’s far too shy to suggest it. For now, he settles for being glad her breathing has slowed, and her tears have stopped. “Thank you,” Sweets breathes out. Her hand slips down to squeeze his before she lets go and steps away from him. “Anytime,” he swears. He means it.

They find their UNSUB three hours later. Garcia’s scanning of security footage gives them a few license plates from cars within a two-block radius of the restaurants the victims went to. Only one owner fits their profile. He’s at work when they find him. Sweets takes great pleasure in cuffing the man. Hotch has no complaints.

When they arrive back in Quantico it’s nearing midnight. The team takes their leaving swearing they’ll finish their paperwork tomorrow morning. Sweets takes advantage of the rare silence in the bullpen to complete her reports. She’s not ready to go home. Not yet. At work, she has a shield, a carefully crafted persona; as cracked as it may be at the moment, it holds back the onslaught of personal fallout she’s sure waits for her at home. Sure her apartment is warmer and cozier than the office ever is. Her bed is far more comfortable than any desk chair. But, at home, she has nothing to distract her. At home, she has no obligation to maintain a facade sewn up by professional self-preservation. At home, she’ll be alone without the steady presence of Aaron Hotchner working away in his office.

The room is bathed in warm lamplight, a comfortable difference from the overhead fluorescents down in the bullpen. Something like a moth, she’s drawn to it by an instinct stronger than her willpower. She knocks on the door frame before leaning into the room. “I finished my report,” she tells him when he looks up. “You didn’t have to finish that tonight,” he tells her with furrowed brows. He sets down his pen and shuts the file he was working on to give her his attention. She steps into the room, setting her report on the edge of his desk. “I didn’t want to go home yet”. She explains though she gets the feeling that he understands. If there’s anyone she knows with a mutual streak of using workplace responsibility to avoid personal turmoil, it’s Hotch. Still, he nods, validating her most simply. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Are you asking as my boss or something more?” she wonders.

“Would it make a difference?” He asks. “Yes,” She responds. Sweets watches as he swallows, his brows knitting together as he considers his answer carefully, “I’m asking as someone who cares about you very much, in whatever capacity you need me to right now”. It’s a diplomatic response. Gentle and inviting without being outright hopeful. Quintessentially Aaron Hotchner.

“Will you come home with me,” Sweets allows herself to be bold enough to ask.

“Yes,” he tells her simply.

In the morning he slips away only to return with two cups of coffee and a box of breakfast pastries. They don’t need to be in the office until 10:00 and he plans on taking advantage of the time they have together until then. Sweets accepts the cup he holds out to her with an eager smile, and a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #hotch x reader #criminal minds fic

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sofipitch · 8 months

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One big theme in the locked tomb is the importance of community, and especially with the framework of those with a disability. Harrow in HTN has two different worlds she is interacting with, one in which the people around her don't give a shit to help her at all, and in that world she dies. Then in the river bubble most everyone refuses to leave her on her own, thye chose to help her, many despite not knowing her. Compare Ianthe's speech to Harrow in the prologue, the way she frames it is Harrow will not survive if she doesn't accept her help, and that Ianthe specifically is the only one who can. Her speech intentionally or not implied that she sees Harrow as weak. Of course Harrow rejects her help. Whereas when Harrow is asking the others to not help her defeat the sleeper, many frame it as helping her is just being part of something they already wanted to do or that they benefit from (the ones that come immediately to mind being Abigail, Dulcie, and Marta). They help her but don't make her feel like she owes them anything for doing it. Which is the opposite of Ianthe, when Harrow makes her the bone arm, Harrow doesn't want anything in return but Ianthe explicitly states she doesn't want to owe her.

The same is true in Nona, Camilla, Palamedes, and Pyrrha don't really owe it to Harrow to keep her/her body safe. It's obviously a lot of work, the equivalent to raising a child, but Nona is never treated as a burden. And I hate to imagine what it would have been like for Nona had she been alone, she said she couldn't even remember to walk at first. And this is all over the series, Dulcie lovingly saying Palamedes invented the breathing tube for her. Camilla and Coronabeth caring for Judith when they were captured. Even in places that aren't tied to disability, a necromancer and cavalier HAD to work together to complete the challenges. The way both of the Palamedes' detective short stories depend on the help another person lends him. It means so much for a story featuring characters with a disability to emphasize that it is okay to need other people, that we all do or will. That you don't need to push yourself to extremes to keep up (Harrow has this mindset in both books and in both she succeeds the most with the help of others, not alone).

To go even further, it isn't just about helping one another, but the importance of not keeping a score. Don't think you have to make up an equivalent amount of help to someone else. One of the things Gideon emphasizes as the most hurtful in Harrow's rejection is the rejection of her help. Palamedes says that he feels bad for using Camilla for his agenda and she answers that it was never his agenda. Him needing her body was something Camilla would never think twice about giving. They would do these things because they love them. This is just me repeating themes but I'm so used to the Western independent mindset, and disability porn of "if you just try hard enough" this series is a breath of fresh air

#tlt #the locked tomb #gideon the ninth #harrow the ninth #nona the ninth

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folie-a-deux · 17 days

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A compilation of my favorite hannigram quotes, related lines or conversations throughout the series.

— Uhm... Just because?

S01E01: Apéritif

Hannibal: "God forbid we become friendly."

Will: "I don't find you that interesting."

Hannibal: "You will."

S01E04: Oeuf

Hannibal: "Feeling paternal, Will?"

Will: "Aren't you?"

Hannibal: "Yes."

S01E09: Trou Normand

Hannibal (to Will): "Who knows Abigail better than you and I? All the burden she bears. We are her fathers now. We have to serve her better than Garrett Jacob Hobbs."

S02E01: Kaiseki

Hannibal: "I miss him."

Bedelia: "You are obsessed with Will Graham."

Hannibal: "I am intrigued."

Bedelia: "Obsessively."

S02E09: Shiizakana

Hannibal (to Will): "No one can be fully aware of another human being unless we love them. By that love we see potential in our beloved. Through that love, we allow our beloved to see their potential. Expressing that love, our beloved’s potential comes true. I love you, Will."

S02E10: Naka-Choko

Hannibal: "Stay with me."

Will: "Where else would I go?"

–/–

Alana: "It's just hard to know where you are with each other."

Will: "We know where we are with each other. Shouldn't that be enough?"

S02E12: Tome-wan

Will (to Hannibal): "You're right. We are just alike. You're as alone as I am. And we're both alone without each other."

–/–

Will (to Hannibal): "I bond with Abigail, you take her away. I bond with barely more than the idea of a child, you take it away. You saw to it that I alienated Alana, alienated Jack. You don't want me to have anything in my life that isn't you."

-/-

Hannibal: "Achilles lamenting the death of Patroclus. Whenever he's mentioned in the Iliad, Patroclus seems to be defined by his empathy."

Will: "He became Achilles on the field of war. He died for him there, wearing his armor."

Hannibal: "He did. Hiding and revealing identity is a constant theme throughout the Greek epics."

Will: "As are battle-tested friendships."

Hannibal: "Achilles wished all Greeks would die, so that he and Patroclus could conquer Troy alone. Took divine intervention to bring them down."

S02E13: Mizumono

Hannibal: "We could disappear now. Tonight. Feed your dogs, leave a note for Alana, and never see her or Jack again. Almost polite."

Will: "Then this would be our last supper."

Hannibal: "Of this life. I served lamb."

Will: "Sacrificial."

Hannibal: "I don't need a sacrifice, do you?"

–/–

Will: "You were supposed to leave."

Hannibal: "We couldn't leave without you."

...

Hannibal: "Time did reverse. The teacup that I shattered did come together. A place was made for Abigail in your world... You understand? A place was made for all of us, together. I wanted to surprise you. And you... you wanted to surprise me. I let you know me. See me. I gave you a rare gift. But you didn't want it."

Will: "Didn't I?"

...

Hannibal: "Do you believe you could change me, the way I've changed you?"

Will: "I already did."

Hannibal: "Fate and circumstance has returned us to this moment— when the teacup shatters. I forgive you, Will. Will you forgive me?"

S03E02: Primavera

Will: "A valentine written on a broken man."

–/–

Will: "I do feel closer to Hannibal here. God only knows where I'd be without him."

Abigail: "What did you see?"

Will: "He left us his broken heart."

Abigail: "How did he know we were here?"

Will: "He didn't. But he knew we'd come."

Abigail: "He misses us."

S03E03: Secondo

Hannibal: "He said he forgave me."

...

Bedelia: "Betrayal and forgiveness are best seen as something akin to falling in love."

Hannibal: "You cannot control with respect to whom you fall in love."

–/–

Chiyoh: "How do you know Hannibal?"

Will: "One could argue intimately."

Chiyoh: "'Nakama'? It's a Japanese word for very close friends."

Will: "Yes, we were 'nakama'."

–/–

Chiyoh: "Why are you looking for him after he left you with a smile?"

Will: "I've never known myself as well as I know myself when I'm with him."

–/–

Jack: “Will Graham understands Hannibal. He accepts him. Now, who among us doesn’t want understanding and acceptance?”

–/-

Bedelia: “What your sister made you feel was beyond your conscious ability to control or predict."

Hannibal: "Or negotiate."

Bedelia: "I would suggest what Will Graham makes you feel is not dissimilar. A force of mind and circumstance.”

Hannibal: “Love. He pays you a visit or he doesn't.”

S03E04: Aperitivo

Jack: "You remember when you decided to call Hannibal?"

Will: "I wasn't decided when I called him. I just called him. I deliberated while the phone rang. I decided when I heard his voice."

Jack: "You told him we knew."

Will: "I told him to leave. 'Cause I wanted him to run."

Jack: "Why?"

Will: "Because... because he was my friend. And because I wanted to run away with him."

–/–

Dr. Chilton: "Will Graham is alive because Hannibal Lecter likes him that way."

Jack: "Maybe it's one of those friendships that ends after the disemboweling."

Dr. Chilton: "I would argue, with these two, that's tantamount to flirtation."

S03E06: Dolce

Jack: "Hannibal will slip away. Will you slip away with him?"

Will: "Part of me will always want to."

–/–

Hannibal: "If I saw you everyday, forever, Will, I would remember this time."

Will: "Strange seeing you here in front of me. Been staring at afterimages of you in places you haven't been in years."

...

Will: "I wanted to understand you... before I laid eyes on you again. I needed it to be... clear. What I was seeing."

Hannibal: "Where does the difference between the past and the future come from?"

Will: "Mine?"... "Before you and after you."

...

Will: "You and I... have begun to blur."

Hannibal: "Isn't that how you found me?"

Will: "Every crime of yours, feels like one I'm guilty of. Not just Abigail's murder, every murder. Stretching backward and forward in time."

Hannibal: "Freeing yourself from me and me freeing myself from you. They're the same."

Will: "We're conjoined. I'm curious whether either of us can survive separation."

S03E07: Digestivo

Hannibal: "Do we talk about teacups and time, and the rules of the disorder?"

Will: "The teacup's broken. It's never gonna gather itself back together again."

Hannibal: "Not even in your mind?"... "Your memory palace is building, it's full of new things. It shares some rooms with my own. I've discovered you there, victorious."

Will: "When it comes to you and me, there can be no decisive victory."

Hannibal: "We are a zero-sum game?"

Will: "I miss my dogs. I'm not going to miss you. I'm not going to find you. I'm not going to look for you. I don't want to know where you are or what you do. I don't want to think about you anymore."

Hannibal: "You delight in wickedness and then berate yourself for the delight."

Will: "You delight. I tolerate... I don't have your appetite."

Will: "Goodbye, Hannibal."

–/–

Hannibal (to Will): "I want you to know exactly where I am, or where you can always find me."

S03E09: ...and the Woman Clothed with the Sun

Hannibal: "Is there a child in your life, Will? I gave you a child, if you recall."

–/–

Will: "You called us "murder husbands.""

Freddie Lounds: "You did run off to Europe together."

S03E10: ...and the Woman Clothed in Sun

Bedelia (to Will): "My relationship with Hannibal isn't as passionate as yours. You are here visiting an old flame. Is your wife aware how intimately you and Hannibal know each other?"

S03E11: ...and the Beast from the Sea

Will (to Hannibal): "I'm not fortune's fool. I'm yours."

S03E12: The Number of the Beast is 666

Will: "Is Hannibal... in love with me?"

Bedelia: "Could he daily feel a stab of hunger for you and find nourishment at the very sight of you?... Yes. But do you ache for him?"

S03E13: The Wrath of the Lamb

Hannibal: "When life becomes maddeningly polite, think about me. Think about me, Will. Don't worry about me."

–/–

Will: "I knew you wanted me to know exactly where I could find you when I needed to."

Hannibal: "And you did."

Will: "I need you Hannibal." ... "Please."

–/–

Will: "It really does look black in the moonlight."

Hannibal: "See? This is all I ever wanted for you, Will. For both of us."

Will: "It's beautiful."

#i just finished the show btw ;-;#okay im gonna go cry in the corner now #i may have missed one or two but #i'll just add them when i remember #we love a good show with a good scriptwriting #it's poetry #hannigram #hannibal lecter #will graham #hannibal #nbc hannibal #hannibal nbc #hannibal quotes #hannigram quotes #hannibal script #murder husbands #murder family

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valley-of-headcanons · 9 months

Note

Heyy! So I just found your stuff and it’s all super cute I love this kind of thing 😊 feel free to decline but do you think you could do a little fluffy one shot type thing where you’re just gaming with Sebastian and then whoops you both fall in love 😳

best gamer of all time || sebastian x reader oneshot

hanging out with your friends is always fun, but gaming alone with him may be your new favorite thing <3

warnings: fluff fluff fluff fluff oh my god, you may suck at this game but you do NOT suck at winning his heart

requested by: @juleboo , this is such an adorable request! i'm sorry this took like forty billion years, life has decided to kick me off my feet, but im doing a lot better so yippeeeee. i hope you enjoy, hopefully it was worth the long wait 🙏

Hanging out on a Saturday night was a ritual for you, Sebastian, Abigail, and Sam. You all rotate on who's place you hang out at, and tonight was Sebastian's. Abigail was laid out on the couch, Sebastian sitting on his bed, and you and Sam were on the floor. After a very intense game of Jackbox, with a lot of chaotic answers and laughter, it was nearing midnight.

“I cannot believe you put that! That was a direct jab at me and you know it!” Sam said towards Abigail's direction, obviously not actually upset.

“Then clean up the fuckin' pizza boxes in your room! That rat would've become your best friend if your mom didn't find him- wait- what time is it? ... oh shit, my dad is gonna kick my ass!” Abigail said, jumping up at lightning speed and grabbing her bag. “Sorry to kill the party, love you guys, if I get lectured one more time this week I am going to pull out my hair. Bye bye!”

And off she goes, leaving just as chaotic as she came. Sounds about right. The remaining three of you laughed, before Sam stood up and grabbed his things as well. “For some reason Mom wants me to come to church in the morning, she saw some lyrics to one of our songs and she kind of flipped her shit. Soooo, gotta atone for my sins. Have fun you two,” he said, sending a small wink Sebastian's way before making his way up the stairs.

You saw the wink, it definitely caught you off guard. You immediately snapped your head towards Sebastian. “What was that for?” you said with a smirk, which wasn't held for long. It slipped into a smile, moving from the floor to the now empty couch.

Sebastian's expression remained neutral, rolling his eyes. “Sam is always up to something, ignore him. Do you wanna stay and hang for a little while? I don't have anything to do tomorrow,” he said, looking towards the cabinet of games that sat beside his gaming console. He never asked anyone to stay later, especially when it's his night to host. He usually wants everyone out, Sebastian cherishes his alone time.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach when he asked you this, he actually wanted to spend more time with you? You felt so honored and special, of course you were going to stay. “Yeah, what did you wanna do?”

“I bought a game, it's co-op. Wanna try it out? It's a platformer, it seems pretty easy,” he said, walking over to the cabinet and grabbing the case. He made his way back over to you, showing you the back of the case, carefully studying your features. He wanted to make sure you were actually interested, and when your face lit up, he couldn't hold back a smile. It was rare for him, but it was perfect.

“Hell yeah, let's pop this bad boy in!” you said, sitting up excitedly and scooting over so that you two could share the couch. After 'popping that bad boy in', he sat next to you and handed you the controller.

Sebastian put on the tutorial before beginning to show you the controls. He described what to do, but due to your drowsiness from working all day, you just couldn't grasp what the controls were. “Here,” he mumbled, thinking for a moment before carefully putting his hands over yours.

“Alright, shoot with this button, alright?” he said, making sure not to get too close to you. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable, but these little touches were really nice ... he could get used to this.

“Mhm ...” you hummed, although your brain was short-circuiting. Every single thought in your brain was rendered useless in that moment, every place where you two touched felt like it was on fire. You clumsily tried to recreate his movements, shooting when he asked and jumping when he instructed. You learned the controls, but barely.

“Got it?” he said simply, slowly beginning to let go of you. He didn't really want to, but he didn't want to overstep your boundaries. He really cared about you, he didn't want to jeopardize that.

With a hesitant nod of confirmation, you two began the game. It was a mess, you definitely did not grasp the controls whatsoever. However, he enjoyed seeing what kind of trouble you got yourself into. How could you even get up there?

“Okay- when you jump, press the trigger to latch on to that cliff, and do NOT let go-” he tried to explain as you jumped with all of your might ... just to not even touch the cliff. Your body hit the floor with a splat, and you both sat in silence for a few seconds, staring at each other. Small snickers turned into full blown laughter, falling down onto the couch as you both held your faces.

“How the hell am I so stupid?? That was so easy! How the hell did I miss that??” you cackled, wiping the tears that began to fall from your eyes.

“I have no idea but it was one of the best things I've ever seen,” Sebastian's laughter began to quiet as he sat up, his gaze making its way down to you. You looked so perfect in the soft light of the television, so happy from the laughter that was encasing the both of you. He could not stop smiling.

“What?” you said softly, a gigantic grin on your face. You couldn't move, you just wanted to stay in this moment forever.

“... nothing. Just ... capturing this moment,” Sebastian said in a gentle tone, taking a deep breath before looking back at the screen. “You're a ghost now, but you can still help me and eventually I can revive you.”

You slowly sat up, but you had an idea. You slid a little closer to him than you were before, your legs touching. “Alright, I'll be the best fuckin' ghost in town,” you laughed, knowing you were bound to fuck it up but you had no care in the world. This was too fun.

He looked over at your legs touching, smiling even wider before continuing the game. He would ask you to do things as a ghost as you did ... with enough trial and error. He did notice that you kept adjusting and scooting closer and closer. He really liked this.

“Do you know how to freeze someone?" he asked, which you shook your head to. “Let me see this-” he mumbled, wrapping his arm around you, definitely just wanting to help you see the controls. You were essentially sitting in his lap at this point, a soft pink blush creeping onto both of your faces.

His face was so close, pressed almost right up against yours ... you wanted to stay here forever, but you didn't want to say anything that would ruin the moment. Nervous silence held you two for a moment, before he did something that both of you wanted more than anything. He carefully kissed your cheek, before going back to the game as if nothing ever happened.

Your brain melted, a feeling of bliss overtaking your body. You've been waiting for that for ages. You slowly leaned back into his chest as he laid down his controller for a moment. He wrapped his arms around your waist for a moment, giving you a careful squeeze. You reached your arms up around his neck, hugging him back. Neither of you cared about the game anymore.

“Stay here tonight. If you want to,” Sebastian muttered softly, holding your body close to his. He didn't dare let go, and neither did you.

You stayed there that night, you stayed wrapped up in his arms until the daylight and you had to work on your farm. But you hoped one day, you could wake up next to him everyday. Maybe someday, but for now, you had many Saturday nights where you stayed over later than everybody else.

#stardew valley #sdv #sdv headcanons #stardew valley headcanons #sdv farmer #stardew valley farmer #sdv sebastian #stardew valley sebastian #sdv sebastian x farmer #stardew valley sebastian x farmer #sdv sebastian x reader #stardew valley sebastian x reader #stardew sebastian #stardew sebastian x reader #stardew sebastian x farmer #sdv oneshots

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publicenemy666 · 7 months

Text

run.

♰ slasher!abby anderson x fem!reader.

thought i’d leave a little something here in the meantime i get my ellie fic finished and i know the slasher trope is so overused but this is based off of a dream i had a few nights ago. a little rushed towards the end but u get it.

content includes: modern!au, descriptions of m*rder, blood, heavy petting, fingering n oral (both r!receiving), abby is mean and scary, lowkey a stalker, ergo a local outcast, but reader is also kind of a loser too. kinda unrealistic ONLY BC IT WAS BASED OFF OF A DREAM I HAD!

nsfw under the cut minors please do not interact.

————————————————————————-

faster.

is the word you kept mentally repeating to yourself as you sprinted through the woods, barefoot, cold, and scared. you could hear her heavy footsteps hitting the ground behind you, getting closer. closer. closer.

the beginning was fairly simple. you were reluctantly dragged to a party with a group pf people you barely knew. it was an attempt to “get you to socialize”, they said. but all in all, you ended up sitting alone while the rest of them were laughing, drinking, and enjoying the fresh summer breeze at a cozy, isolated lake house. you should have known better, really. with all of the numerous homicide reports spiking within your county, it was almost inevitable that this would happen.

and it all happened so fast. you’d gone to the bathroom for what seemed like five minutes, before you heard the loud, banshee like screech of one of your friends echoing through the entire house. when you’d so stupidly exited out of the confines of the bathroom, your eyes flew wide open at the sight before you.

a grisly scene of all of your friends grotesquely killed, stab wounds and large gashes littering their bodies. blood was smeared on the walls, the furniture. almost everywhere you looked, you saw nothing but the deep crimson essence adorning the walls.

that’s when you saw her.

a tall, buff, terrifying woman, wearing what seemed to be a bloodied white muscle shirt, and equally bloodied jeans. her long, dirty blonde hair was sprawled along her back and broad shoulders, and she was clutching the shirt collar of a boy you didn’t even know the name of, pulling the axe out of his chest with a loud grunt. as soon as she heard you step down the stairs, she snapped her head back to look at you, axe securely clutched in one large, gloved hand while she dropped the boy to the ground.

you recognized her as abigail anderson. the girl who seemed to be outcasted and feared everywhere she went, almost always for no apparent or good reason. you’d seen her before, bearing that permanent scowl on her face and hanging around the library or in your shared classes, but you’d never once been put off by her. you remember talking to her one day while you were at the library searching for a certain book, and at first, abby was confused as to why someone as kind as you wasn’t afraid of someone like her; maybe, just maybe, you could understand her. see her for who she really was.

ever since then, she had her sights set out on you.

your heart began to beat a million miles per second, and you just… stood there. too paralyzed with fear to do anything as the warm tears prick your eyes.

abby cocks her head, giving you a conniving, almost evil grin as she recognizes you, which you take as her giving you a head start. it felt like forever before you sprinted down the stairs, and out of the backyard door, not even bothering to grab your shoes on the way out. you run towards the treeline, chest heaving as the adrenaline pumps and courses through your body. your feet begin to ache as you step on the jagged rocks and branches, but you knew that was the least of your worries.

abby soon charges after you, breathing hard and heavy as she keeps a steady pace behind you. your cries of terror only spur her on even more, which only makes her run all the more faster, her strong legs never faltering.

you’re quick to run in all kinds of different directions, hoping to god that you would eventually lose track of her. but it was never that way with abby. not at all. she was hot on your trail, careful to mimic each sharp turn you made through the dark forest.

the loud music blaring from the speakers could still be heard even as you ran deeper and deeper into the woods, almost like a taunt. you didn’t dare look behind you, but you’re not quite watching where you’re going, either. you’re much too distracted with how the sound of abby’s footsteps never seem to fall away, and your foot gets caught on a lifted tree root, which makes you collide with the hard forest floor beneath you.

shit. you think to yourself, the wind almost instantly being knocked out of you. it was hard to breathe, and you tried your hardest to get back up, to absolutely no avail. you look up at the sky above you, hot tears streaming down your cheeks as you let out a strained sob. your ears began to ring as you rolled over onto your back, clutching and clawing at your own chest.

abby’s eyes fly open, and she stops in her tracks right in front of you, still clutching the axe within her hand. oh, this was precious, she thought.

you could hear her heavy, muffled breathing, and a loud, terrified scream leaves your throat as you hurriedly back up against a nearby tree. abby chuckles at the sight, and she grabs your arm with a rather excruciating grip, hauling you up against the large tree.

“gotcha.” she spits as she brings her other hand to hold the blade of the axe to your torso, which makes you scream and thrash against her even more violently.

the rancid stench of death soon fills your nostrils as she leans in even closer to you, pressing her nose against your cheek, and she keeps her lips close to your ear. abby then presses the blade deeper into your skin; not hard enough to break the supple barrier, but hard enough to make your consciousness falter.

“shut the fuck up.” she seethes rather harshly, and you unwillingly oblige. you’re visibly trembling beneath her, shaking your head, pleading and begging for her to spare you. your eyes continuously dart between the blood stained blade pressed firmly against your skin and her face, your hands shaky as you try your hardest to push her away from you.

of course, it’s no use. her large frame completely dwarfs yours in shadows, and you let your head fall back against the tree as you keep on sobbing.

“please, don’t… don’t kill me, i won’t tell anyone, abby, i swear, just please don’t fucking kill me.” you beg, the words coming out shaky and weak, which makes abby laugh into your ear. her breath is warm and wet against your skin, and it sends a wave of electricity down your spine.

she then suddenly stops for a moment, still breathing hard against the skin of your neck. you knew her name. the precious girl she’d always been after knew her name. it was the biggest sense of humanity that had ever befallen her, and she soon finds herself questioning what she had been doing all these years.

soon enough, abby snaps out of her confused train of thought, and pulls away to look at you. her cerulean eyes pierce into your own as she mocks your words with an undeniable coldness in her voice. your legs ached and trembled, and they would’ve given out on you had it not been for the sheer adrenaline still pumping through your system.

she moves to grab your face with one of her gloved hands, and she gives you that same, horrifying smile again. her eyes were low and narrowed as she began to speak again, “stupid girl. you really should have known better.” she coos at you, before she pulls the axe away from your stomach, hauling it back above your head before jamming it deep into the bark of tree with a grunt, missing your head by just a hairs breadth. sap begins to bleed around the blade, and it drips down to fall on one of your shoulders, which forces you to face the reality of the situation once more.

you let out a horrified sob as she does this, body still trembling beneath her inhumanly strong grip; but the way that she was breathing, the way that she was grunting as she held you firmly against the tree, and the harsh rasp of her smooth voice… it sent a wave of arousal coursing through you. this woman had just butchered the people you were with, and could very easily lead you down that same path; but as soon as she saw your face flush red as you began to writhe against her, it was almost as if a switch had flipped in her brain.

abby scoffs and shakes her head, hurriedly pulling off one of her gloves with her teeth before spitting it off to the ground. with one large, free hand, she takes both of your wrists, pinning them above your head before she messily shoves the other one down your shorts. your hips begin to buck at her touch as she begins to harshly rub at your clit, and abby’s breath comes out shaky when she feels your pooled up slick coating her fingers. “really? you’re fucking getting off on this?” she asks, and you whine, shaking your head at her proffer. your body, though, has a much different reaction.

you keep on moaning for her, completely going against your best interests. her fingers were thick and long, and you really couldn’t help but chase that senseless feeling of alleviation. she then slowly but surely eases one of her fingers inside your achy hole, and you continue to try and break free from her strong grip, in order to grasp at her shoulders, her hair, anything.

“s’fucking tight. such a needy slut.” abby scolds you, and you bite down hard on your lower lip as she seemingly expertly curls her digit up against your sweet spot. you keep your head firmly planted against the tree behind you. you roll your hips against the palm of her hand, eyes rolling towards the back of your skull as you grind your swollen bead against the calloused part of her hand.

you look up to meet her gaze again, chest fluttering when you see her staring back. abby’s brows were furrowed, and pieces of her hair stuck to her face with sweat. you study the bridge of her freckled nose, and the way that her pretty pink lips curved downwards. your eyes fell to her large, blood stained muscular arms, and her long, murky blonde hair cascading down her strong, broad shoulders. you hurriedly take in each one of her features, and a huge wave of confusion washes over you.

how could anyone have ever been afraid of her?

abby begins to feel the unfamiliar pang of her own stomach beginning to flutter as you continued to gaze at her, and she furrows her brows even more. no one had ever looked at her like that before. “the fuck are you staring at?” she seethes, and she shoves another finger inside of you.

your eyes go wide and your cunt flutters at the sudden intrusion, which draws a loud cry from your lips. your face continues to burn with embarrassment, and abby continues to breathe heavily as she bangs her fingertips up against your g spot. she groans when she feels your warm, gummy walls tightening around her fingers.

“abby… abby, s’too much..” you hiccup, and abby scoffs again, tugging you forward by your wrists. but with each time her name falls from your lips, the feeling bottoms out at her own cunt. “oh, it’s too much? that’s too bad. stop fuckin’… squirming. you should learn to be more grateful.” her voice is hoarse and mean, so mean. but you try your hardest to stop squirming, arching your back off of the tree and standing on your tip toes as abby continues to fuck you.

your eyes fall shut as you feel her leaning into you again, her hair gently falling over your chest as she buries her face within the crook of your neck. she smells of dirt and sweat, and her skin was warm to the touch. abby soon drags her lips along the valley between your jaw and neck, which only heightens your senses. she notices this, taking it upon herself to gently nip at the exposed skin.

you begin to desperately rock your hips against her palm, the inevitable and uncontrollable feel of your orgasm beginning to pool up at the bottom of your stomach. abby clicks her teeth at this, dragging her ministrations to a stop. you whine and let yourself slump back against the tree, still moving your hips around in slow circles all while her fingers are still buried inside of you.

“please… abby, please. i…” you stop yourself before you can say anything else, making sure to keep direct eye contact with her. your chest heaves and you let out a soft whine, and abby’s lips twitch in response. you find your gaze darting from her stare to her lips, and you whine as you begin to rock your hips again. she slowly, almost unknowingly leans in until you’re nose to nose, and she curls her fingers up inside you one last time. a quiet whine leaves your throat, and it’s clear she’s lost in the moment, you both are, completely forgetting about any previous circumstances regarding anything else that’s happened tonight.

“i need you.” your voice is so small, but so clear. just when you’re about to press your lips to hers, she pulls away to look at you for a second, her expression curled up into a hateful, almost disgusted sneer, but once your words register in her brain, it falters a little bit.

no one had ever needed her before; how foolish little abby was.

abby slowly pulls her hand out from your shorts to rest on your hip, and her breath begins to hitch as she suddenly drops to her knees before you. your wrists are now free from her crushing grip, but you don’t dare to move, or run. you were in too deep, and so was abby. you both knew that at this point.

your stomach flutters as she looks up at you, her eyes low and narrowed. abby pulls off her other glove with her hand, before she can move to hastily pull your shorts off of your hips. you let her, moving to entwine a hand in her hair. abby carefully leans in a little closer to your clothed cunt, before she presses her nose into your clothed mound, shutting her eyes and inhaling your musky scent.

she gently nudges your clit with her nose, before she slowly darts her tongue out to lap at your clothed slit, hoisting one of your thighs up over one of her shoulders. you shut your eyes at the feeling, the back of your head hitting the hard bark of the tree for what seems like the millionth time tonight.

you groan, slowly beginning to roll your hips against her face, which makes her bring one large hand up to grope at the fat of your ass. abby lets her eyelids flutter shut as she continues to grunt and lap at your cunt, and she slowly pulls away from you to gently grab at the hem of your panties with her teeth. your eyes are hazy and your body feels weak when you feel her start to pull them down, and you let out a quiet gasp when the cool night air hits your now exposed sex.

abby stares in awe once she sees just how wet you are, pulling your glistening folds apart to watch your slick drip down the insides of your thighs. you look away in embarrassment as she does this, and abby can feel her own mouth beginning to water at the sight before her. she didn’t even know she could have an effect like this on someone.

“fuck… look at that.” she begins, running her fingers over your now budded clit, gently massaging your soft bundle of nerves. she chuckles when she feels your arousal beginning to coat her fingers again, and she moves to spread your legs just a little wider. your hands are instinctively moving to rake themselves through her hair, and you can feel her hot breath panning over your swollen folds, which makes you inch yourself just a little closer to her lips.

abby obliges, licking a long, unhurried stripe from your hole to your clit, which makes you buck your hips against her mouth. you grip her hair a little harder as she moves to gently suck on your clit, only spurring her on even more.

“oh… fuck, that’s so good, abby. so good.” you gasp out into the air, no one else listening but abby and the trees surrounding you. she grunts at your praise, letting that all too unfamiliar feeling of her stomach fluttering consume her whole. she continues to slowly lap at your swollen, achy cunt before slowly moving her hands up your thighs to grab a hold of your hips.

you cry out for her, and for her only. your soft oh my god’s and babbled words of appraisal as she continues to make a mess out of your poor pussy, they’re all for her. abby couldn’t count how many times she’d envisioned this while fucking herself late at night in her bed, and now that she’d finally had you, she’d be sure to never let you go.

you look down to see your chest heaving and abby’s pretty face nestled comfortably in your now soaked thatch of curls, and the sight makes your legs go even weaker. your heart races even faster in your chest as you clutch at her hair, moving one free hand to grope at the fat of your own tit to manage the feeling of her tongue prodding at your entrance.

abby notices how you’ve began to grind your pussy even harder against her tongue, and she slides a free hand down from your hip to find post on your inner thigh, inching dangerously close to your slicked entrance. you welcome her touch, still tugging and pulling at her blonde locks, shutting your eyes as she continues to flatten her tongue out against your clit.

abby loves the way you taste; too forgiving and saccharine against her chapped lips. she laps up all of your sweet juices, eating you out like a woman starved. your breath begins to hitch as she starts to suck harshly, all while swirling her warm, wet tongue along the underside of your pussy. abby pulls your hips even further into her face by grabbing at your ass, and she pushes her spit back up against your messy, pulsating cunt.

the feeling is so fucking vulgar, but it feels so fucking good. you’re sure to let her know it, letting out mixes of cries and moans combined together, babbling her name and clawing at her scalp. abby moans up into your cunt each time you harshly yank at her hair, the pain going straight down to her own, neglected pussy. that tight feeling in your abdomen grows stronger and stronger with each time abby sucks and licks, and abby loves how desperate you’re becoming. all because of her.

“shit… i’m gonna cum, abby… gonna cum…” you warn, voice breaking when you say her name. abby doesn’t respond, though. she only slightly picks up her pace, and if it weren’t for her strong grip holding your legs firmly in place, you’re certain your knees would have buckled and given out on you. all it takes is one lick and a single kiss to your clit for you to finally unravel into her mouth, and you violently grip at her hair once more. abby’s breath falls heavy, and she soon plunges her fingers inside of you to fuck you through your orgasm, and a loud, strained cry leaves your throat at the added overstimulation.

“s’fucking pretty.” abby mutters under her breath as you continue to become undone on her fingers, and when you look down to see her face, your own flushes a deep shade of red. her nose and lips are coated in your juices, and they glisten underneath the bright glow of the moon behind the trees. as vulgar as the sight below you is, she looks so beautiful. neither of you say anything, and all you can do is move to cup her face with one of your palms when she finally stands back up. abby flinches at first, but she reluctantly leans into your touch, her breath faltering as the soft skin of your palm comes into contact with her cheek.

the silence is absolutely deafening. her eyes continue to bore holes into your own as she opens her mouth to say something, anything, but she can only exhale. “abby…” you begin, but you’re conveniently interrupted by the loud blare of police sirens heading towards the lake house, and abby sinks her head down, pulling herself away from you completely. “shit…” she mutters as the red and blue lights flash over her face, and she grabs her axe from the tree, quickly scooping her gloves off of the forest floor.

you can feel that familiar sense of panic sinking into your chest once more, and she quickly helps tug your panties and shorts back on. your heart flips at the sudden kind gesture, and before abby can take off running into the darkness of the forest, she presses her lips to your ear again. “meet me at the library next saturday.” is all she says, before she quickly takes off into the darkness behind her, leaving you alone against the tree. her footsteps begin to fade away, and instead of a horrid sense of panic, you’re filled with a newfound sense of… relief? you slump back against the tree, knitting your brows as you hear the policemen getting closer to you, the glare from their flashlights nearly blinding you.

abby knew that this wasn’t the last she’d be hearing from you. it was far from it. she could still taste you on her tongue as she ran back to her cabin, the image of your flushed face never leaving her mind.

#abby x fem!reader #abby the last of us #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x chubby reader #abby anderson x f!reader #the last of us #abby anderson #lesbian #aconitemercury

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forthelostones · 4 months

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𝚙𝚝.𝚜𝚒𝚡 ; 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 ─── ⋆

⟡⋆˙୨ᥫ᭡. 𝚗𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚞 - 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎!𝚊𝚋𝚋𝚢 𝚡 𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ᥫ᭡.୧⋆˙⟡

synopsis: abby was a woman whose presence was becoming deeply irresistible to you. in your final year of nursing school, you toil with the idea of pursuing her — ruin what you have or enjoy what’s in front of you?

warnings. 18+ (mdni); sub!abby, domsub!abby, sexual themes, jealousy, spitting, strap-on, hate sex/makeup sex, nickname: dummy, and modern au - pre-established relation.

an: hi everyone, i appreciate you all sooo soo much. happy friday... it's getting real this entire ff is on ao3 as well x

(no y/n)

wc: 3.4k

Abby heard your door close, knowing it was time for you to leave for your flight. She froze as if you didn’t know she was in her living room listening to every move you made on the other side of the wall. Your footsteps traveled to be placed silently in front of her door and halted just as you knocked. “Abigail?”

She concentrated on the purr of your voice vibrating against the wooden door.

“Abby, I’m leaving, um, you probably are sleeping or — I don’t know, anyways, I left you some stuff so you could feel less alone while I’m gone. Um, it’s stuff I think you'd like. I know it’s not going to solve anything but let’s talk soon. Please.”

You wait for the knob to turn, for the door to open and reveal the stubborn woman, anything, but it never happens. On the other side, Abby was standing with her hand on the door frame, absorbing your voice into her consciousness, missing you more than ever. She so badly wanted to open it and hold you, and assure you she was just being stupid, but she wasn’t ready for it.

She waited a few minutes before opening the door to reveal a small tote bag heavy with glass. Abby wrapped her hand around the handle and peered out the door as if she would find you in the hallway, waiting for her. The bag was filled with an assortment of miss-match containers, housing different food items with post-its describing each one. Turkey, Mac and Cheese, Stuffing, Brussels sprouts, and Cranberry Sauce. She traced the delicate intricacies of your handwriting that she had seen many times before, but especially now seemed special. She removed the sticky paper and placed it on her dining table, placing the corresponding container above it.

In the following days Abby received every text message you sent her, she simply didn’t care to read them beyond the notification on her screen. Her anger boiled more and more, irritated at your persistence while simultaneously needing it as reassurance that you still care.

abby, i’m sorry. let’s talk, call me please.

hey, getting on the plane now so i can’t talk for the next two hours.

just landed, i can call soon if that’s what you want.

all ready for bed.

Attached was a photo she felt tempted to look at but didn’t. Her phone rang multiple times throughout the day with your name on the caller ID. She didn’t feel compelled to decline it, she let it ring until the ringtone stopped. She did exactly what she said she was going to do — study. She knew it was the one thing she could wholeheartedly commit to now.

In the middle of studying her phone rang over five times and one notification for a voicemail appeared on the screen. She looked at your name on her phone, held a deep breath in her chest, and listened to a voice softened by tears.

“Abby, hi. Just thinking about you and I know I’m the last person you want to hear from,” You paused. “I want us to talk. I just… I miss you.”

Abby stopped the message and set her study materials aside, quickly pressing play again. “I miss you. I wish we were together right now. I’m going to make this right, I promise. Please, just give me some time.”

Abby brought her fist up to her dripping nose and tightened her mouth into a thin line. The feelings that she had for you were inescapable. Her heart collapsed in her ribcage, smashing against the paper bones that felt like they were cracking as she dabbed the tears floating in her eyes. She went to all the unread messages and saw the photo of you lying in your childhood bedroom with an all-white long john set and a modest smile on your face. Your eyes were puffy, or was she imagining it? She wanted you to break apart like she was. Abby observed your grin, that revealed a more narrow sadness that she could place on her own mouth.

We can talk when you return.

You shuffle down the familiar hallway, bags in hand, trembling with uncertainty you quickly identified as a fear of losing Abby. Your flight left you disheveled and bubbled with anxiety, making you stop in the bathroom before calling an uber, and polishing yourself up. But no time in the bathroom could remove the dark circles under your eyes or take away the sadness you harbored. You were fearful that if you waited a moment longer she’d forget about you — so you held your duffle and carry on, hastily knocking at a door that was once always unlocked for you.

Abby pulled on the handle revealing her pristine appearance. Blonde hair tied into a braid, attached to the middle of her head, cascading down her spine. Her lips were moisturized, plush, pink, and waiting to be kissed. She clasped her hands in one another, arms bulging out of her black tank top clinging to her even skin. As a formality, she gestured for you to sit down as she took your bags effortlessly. After setting them down on the table she joined you on the couch, legs crossed in thick grey sweats.

“I missed you.” You admit, inching closer to her.

“I did too. I missed you too.” She said shyly, slightly shrugging.

You walk your fingers to her knee and rest them there, embarrassed.

“So, I’m sorry Abby—”

“No, all of this is my fault. I was tipsy and out of line, I misconstrued your feelings for me. I shouldn’t have pressured you to just get rid of Ellie. Instead, I should have explained to you how much I really like you. And maybe my inexperience just made me want you even more… Like, I can’t do casual, or I mean I never had the opportunity to. I just… I wanted more with you — I want more with you. I don't wanna share you.” She ropes her pinky into yours.

“My sweet Abby,” You sigh, cupping her jaw. “I should have paid more attention.”

“I think I could have been more clear on what I wanted out of you, y’know out of us.”

“I like you Abby and a part of me likes Ellie too. She’s fun and that was my appeal to her, knowing I didn’t have to get roped into something complex or serious. But I like you…so much, you’re all I could think about when I was away. I’m not used to anyone wanting me this way.”

“I want you. I only want you.” She smiled.

“You do?”

“So much, I want you to be my girlfriend, seriously. Do you want that?”

You freeze at the question, making Abby recede into herself briefly, face dropping into a premature frown.

“I don’t know how good of a girlfriend I could be to you. I don’t want to make you feel how I did that past week.” She leans closer and kisses the backside of your hand.

“That’s inevitable, we will have times where things go the opposite of what we want, that’s okay but we need to be on the same page. Do you want this?”

You feel a rock drop to the bottom of your stomach.

“Abby I don’t know if I can fully say that I want that in this moment. Can I think about it?”

“Of course you can.”

She leaned in, using your thighs for leverage, resting her lips against yours. You melt into her sweet, strawberry-glazed lips, relishing her taste. Being away from her made a week feel like a year and you savored this kiss intending to remember it for later. Your hands come up to her neck and pull her in, pushing your tongue past her teeth and into her mouth, eliciting a moan. It was deep and from her core, exposing how much she missed you. She presses her hand on the back of the couch, the other one behind you on the arm, unfolding her legs and laying on top of you. She lifted her far leg so that it was hanging off the edge of the couch, crotch pressed against the top of your thigh, her body weight crushing you sweetly.

Abby’s hand comes up the side of your ribs making you shutter. Her rough fingertips leave pale imprints on your warm skin. You lift your hips into her core and she moans into your left ear. A sweet blow of air and arousal fills your space causing the parting of your lips to replicate the pleasure. “I missed this.” Her raspy voice rang.

You reach in the band of her sweats and brush her abdomen towards her clit. No panties. Her thighs were damp with sweat, her lips wet with slick and you wasted no time parting them. Abby wrapped a fistful of your hair into her hand and tugged, leaving your mouth agape from the sudden aggression.

“Fuck me.” She demanded.

You feel your pussy clench. Abby's change in demeanor put a bit of fear in you, knowing the woman was strong enough to have her way with you at any moment.

“Come on. Fuck me.”

Her hand unravels from your hair to your jaw to open your mouth. Her lips purse to expel a string of spit which you accept happily. Her lips were sloppy, smacking into yours as she stroked her clit against your fingers, hunching for more contact. You lifted her shirt up to reveal a light pink lace bralette, exposing her erect nipples. You bring your lips to the fabric, and she trembles. She removes the lace top and forces the stiff bud between your teeth, making her wince as you lean back, biting and stretching it. Her pussy left tacky, wet splotches in her pants.

“Let me get my strap.” She said, moving away quickly. You watch her firm ass switch from side to side while she marches to her bedroom. You sit up, mouth wet with desire, not hesitating to remove your bottoms.

The black harness houses a clear dildo that curved upwards, just how Abby liked it, reaching for her g-spot. She handed it over to you to strap on and laid back on the couch. Her eyes became hungry as she saw your perfect body displaying the new appendage. You walk towards her dripping with irrefutable sexual appeal before ripping off her bottoms and beginning to finger her pussy.

“Don’t tease me. I’m already wet.”

You climb on the couch, slipping the curved cock inside, splaying your body weight on top of her. Her skin blushed as she cupped the back of your ass, reaching to bring you closer. Her cunt filled the room with obscene sounds that made yours shake with anticipation.

“Please.” She repeated.

“Please what?” You asked, catching her off guard amid moans.

“Make me cum.”

Abby’s groomed fingernails dragged along the outer rim of your back. She started raising her hips and fucking against you, her grip became deadly, indicating she was close to cumming. Abby loved the sounds of your grunts in her ear, knowing the strap was bruising your clit, making you needy too. Abby’s eyes retreated into her skull but returned quickly to your sightline as you extract the cock from her cunt. The clear plastic became covered with opaque gloss, leaving Abby twitching and kneeling over.

“Fuck you.” She laughed, short-winded.

The strong woman laid on her stomach and began arching her back. Her smooth, florescent skin wrapped around each muscle beautifully. You rub her ass, starting from the midpoint of her back to the underside of her bottom. Abby whimpered at your gentleness only to be startled by an impulsive slap, instantly turning her pink. Your finger hovers over her lips, spreading them open like petals of a soft rose, examining how perfect her pussy is while it’s dripping.

“You really missed me huh?”

“I did. I missed you sooo much.” She whined, completely transforming unsuspectingly submissive. You reach under her and thump her clit with your palm to which she yelps. She stretches like a kitten and curves her back even more. Another slap and she throws her head over the arm of the couch where she begins to reside at.

Without warning you plunge your index and ring finger inside of her making your name spill out of her mouth. You curve your fingers to hook behind her pelvic bone, petting the sweet sponge inside of her. All you could think about was how she embarrassed you, ignored you until the last minute, and left your mind wondering. This motivated you to fuck her even harder, and you started to believe this is what Abby wanted all along.

“I can—can’t take it, ple—” She struggled to form a coherent sentence.

She reached her hand back to stop you from going any deeper. You snatched her thick wrist into your hand and pinned it onto her lower back. You positioned your leg on the cushion and slipped the dildo into her. Abby never felt so overwhelmed with pleasure. The constraints you put on her made her mentally weak, leaving her immobilized. The pain made her numb and left her humming uncontrollably. You weren’t even stroking her pussy but pounding it until the skin impacted by the strap transformed from peach to lilac. Abby’s mouth was wide open, gasping for air as a knot tied itself in her stomach.

“Let—le— l—me, cum, I—”

The blabbering woman stiffened as an orgasm came over her body. But that didn’t stop you from milking her cunt into overdrive. She hoisted herself up on the arm, but you refused to let her run away. Your hands came to her hips and brought her to her breaking point, again. Your name filled her cozy apartment like sweet music. You pull out, leaving her gaping and dripping, leaving a delicious view. Exhausted, you fall back on the other end of the couch. Abby rolls over, legs agape, head thrown back, chest rising and falling quickly. Her cunt was bright red and abused, just like she deserved.

“Satisfied?” You spit.

She lifts her head, hair disheveled, and smiles at you with a sinister grin.

“I didn’t know I could cum that many times,” She admits.

Her eyes darted to the cock still strapped on your hips, covered in her cum. She bent over and placed her head on your thigh, parallel to the dildo. You brush her messy hair out of her face just before she wraps her lips around it and sucks it clean. You didn’t know how attractive it could be to see her in this way, with her eyes locking into yours, moaning at her own actions, making your cunt wetter.

“Let’s have a shower.” She offered.

The water ran warm onto your neck and lower body as Abby’s tongue traced circles into your neck. Her wide hands wrapped around your wet waist, desperate for more of you.

“I missed you even though…” She began to whisper.

“Even though?”

“You pissed me off, and made me emotional.”

She pulls away from your ear and brushes the tip of her nose against your cheek with her tongue following shortly behind, melting into a kiss.

“I know, you’re my needy, emotional girl.”

You slick her drenched hair back and thumb her forehead. Her body comes forward to smash you against the cold tile with a thud. She slides her hand over your belly to your throbbing clit. “For a minute, I actually hated you. I wanted to rip you apart.” She groaned.

“Here’s your opportunity, Abigail.”

Abby wraps your leg around her waist to get a better angle. She hovers her lips over your mouth, teasing you as you close your eyes to lean in for a kiss. She giggles at how ridiculous you look. Then, she presses her teeth into your skin, followed by soothing kisses down to your breast. She puckers her lips around your areola, with her eyes gazing up at you, filled with fury. Just as she’s about to stick her tongue out, her fingers replace her mouth and tug on the puffy buds. You press your back deeper into the tiles as if you could sink into them.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.” You wince while her fingers hold onto your pebbled nipples.

“After you sent that photo, you touched yourself didn’t you?” She jerks your nipples.

“Ah—ah, I— I did before I took it.”

“What did you think of?” She asked.

“You, I thought of you,” you replied.

Her tongue slithered out of her mouth to flick your nipple. “Keep going.”

“You… you were kissing me, all… over…”

“Hmmm.” Her lips puckered and suctioned.

“I just. I, Abby,” you moaned.

“If you stop, I stop.”

“You were kissing me w—with my hands tied… tied up,”

She moved to your other breast and sucked, causing your hole to clench around nothingness.

“Abby, I imagined you fucking me until my legs went limp.”

She smiled and brought herself back to your lips, kissing and biting them with no care.

“Even at odds, I’m still on your mind.”

She inserts her fingers into you slowly, stretching you out. You grip onto her shoulders for stability as she begins to pump in and out of you. She spreads her legs to ground herself and thrusts her fingers deeper inside of you, pounding the fat of your pussy, creating a slapping noise in rhythm with the beating shower.

Abby bared her teeth as she increased her speed. She was grunting like she was in the gym doing a challenging set, mumbling words you were too sexually drunk to decipher. The water fizzled into a heavy steam, crashing into your wrinkled skin and creating a thick haze above your head. The humidity left you faint as Abby worked harder to make you cum with no comfort — all in her timing. Suddenly, she let go of the leg she had been hoisting up and wrapped her hand around your throat. Your moans became light and airy as you gasped for relief.

“You’re mine. You know that right?” She declared.

You nodded as you came up on the wave of sexual bliss. Your knees fell together, weakening as the woman continued to cockily spit at you, a side of her you never knew before.

“I’m the only one who can fuck you like this. I don’t give a fuck, no one else will ever make you cum like this.”

And that’s what you did, cum, with a deep primal groan accompanying it. She continued to stroke your pussy, until you caught your breath, just before she fell to her knees in the tub to lick up the mess she created. The curve in the bridge of her nose made a unique friction against your sensitive clit while her tongue slid up and down your folds. You turned the water off, and the both of you ran to the bedroom before the cool air caught up to you.

Abby dried her body and hair with a nearby towel and passed one to you. She flopped onto her mattress, with her head wet onto her jersey pillowcase awaiting your body.

“Are you still mad at me?” You ask.

“Nothing a little cuddling could fix. Come ‘ere.” She said.

You straddled her waist to lay down on her soft, hot body and tucked your mouth into the crook of her neck. Abby placed her hand on the back of your neck and smoothed out your baby hairs there. She adjusted her body underneath you, unintentionally pressing her mound into yours, extracting a slight gasp from your throat.

“You okay?” She asks.

“Yes.” You mutter. She lifts upwards again, spreading your legs apart and exposing your clit. You look at her sly grin, she mimics you and spreads her legs open as well. You lay down onto her shoulder, breath hitting her neck, and buck your hips into her, your clit being tickled by the blonde’s low-trimmed pussy. You two perform a dance, following an unspoken choreography, pressing your cunts into each other.

“I need you.” Abby moans.

You guide Abby’s knees to her chest and turn so your ass is in her view, straddling her leg, spreading your slits open with your fingers, and placing your cunt onto hers — hot and needy. The wave of your ass brushing against her pussy made her mouth fall open in disbelief. Abby tucks her hands behind her head as she watches you use her pussy like a pillow and hump it freely just as she likes it.

“Fuck, Abby.”

Abby blushed at your words, watching your hips move like water, eyes closed and getting lost in the pleasure.

#abby anderson smut #abby x reader #lesbian #abby anderson x you #sub abby #abby tlou #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson imagine #abby the last of us #abby smut #wlw ns/fw #wlw

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violetrainbow412-blog · 8 months

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Wishes fulfilled [S. R.] birthday wishes pt. 2

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

word count: 7.7k

summary: After an unfortunate event, Spencer questions what he really feels about his childhood best friend.

contains: best friends to lovers, a little angst at the beginning, conflict over feelings, mostly fluff

A/N: A anon suggested there be a second part for birthday wishes and I thought, why not? You can read it as a standalone or as a continuation, tell me what you thought! this makes me very happy:)

The months passed and very soon the Christmas season arrived. There were some allusive decorations courtesy of García and she had even placed a small tree in the meeting room with symbolic gifts under it, one for each member of the team that they could open after Christmas Eve. It was a month full of warmth, love and delicious hot chocolate, but criminals in the United States didn't seem to adhere to that rule so the BAU continued with business as usual.

“She was Abigail Jones,” Garcia began, projecting an image on the conference room screen of a woman who must have been in her thirties. “She was found dead yesterday in her apartment in Las Vegas, in the area of Downtown, with multiple signs of violence, sexual abuse, and a completely disfigured face…” when she said this, she turned away from looking at the photo, with good reason, as it made even the strongest members feel nauseous.

There were two other victims, the same mobile phone and in scattered areas of the city. They were single women, who lived alone and although they didn’t seem to share traits in terms of their socioeconomic level, they were extremely similar physically and that is why Spencer's stomach turned when he realized how much they looked like you. A call to Hotch's phone interrupted the presentation and they all waited for the exchange to end, until after exchanging a few sentences the man spoke.

“It was the police chief. There is a new victim, they just found her in the Summerlin area, in an apartment complex on Pennwood Avenue.”

“At Pennwood?” Spencer asked, turning completely pale as she heard the area where the attack had taken place “Who is she?”

“They haven’t yet identified the body, but she has the same characteristics as the other women”

Everyone was shocked to see the doctor get up from the table and leave the room without giving any explanation, apparently to make a call from his phone. Aaron set the departure time of the jet and after that some members approached the young agent to try to find out what was happening. He seemed very worried, with the device pressed firmly against his ear and his gaze lost.

“What's wrong, Reid?”

“I'm calling Y/N,” he explained, feeling his breathing begin to quicken. “She lives in those apartments.”

The rest of the team seemed to understand, then, the concern that had overcome the man due to the information they had just received. They were also profilers and even with the little that they knew you, they knew that you fit perfectly into victimology, so it wasn’t difficult for them to connect both dots to realize what Spencer's fear was.

The first call had no answer, other than the answering machine, so he called again, again and again until panic took him in its clutches like prey.

“Dude, calm down.”

"She doesn’t answer!" Spencer practically sobbed, feeling like everything around him was spinning and a second later collapsing into Morgan's arms.

"What's going on?"

“Reid fears that the woman they just found is Y/N,” JJ explained to her boss. By this point the entire team was already gathered around the man, sharing the worry that was tormenting him and thinking about the possibilities of everything. The trip to Vegas was longer than usual trips, which didn't help in the least.

Spencer felt a chill when he tried to dial your number again and, just like before, he only heard your pre-recorded voice.

“Okay, listen,” Hotch said firmly, as he approached Spencer and grabbed his shoulders to get his attention. “I'm going to ask the officer to call me as soon as they identify the body, until then I need you to calm down. Do you know if Y/N has any particular signs with which they can tell us now if it is her?”

“Huh, she…” he stammered, struggling to put two coherent thoughts together to answer, “she has a… a mole on her belly, I think. It’s small and red.”

Under other circumstances the team would have mocked him, asking him how he had that knowledge or something along those lines, however, the situation was too delicate to allow for jokes.

“Okay, get your things so we can leave as soon as possible. And again, calm down,” Hotch said firmly, pointing at the agent. “It's not her, Reid. I know it"

Spencer tried to do what his boss had asked, but he kept dialing his cell phone every two minutes hoping to hear a response. He tried to calm down by telling himself that the chances of that body being yours were very low and trying to find in his mind some statistics that would corroborate this, but fear barely allowed him to understand the situation enough to know any information at that moment.

Obviously he was the first to arrive at the jet and he didn't stop trying to communicate with you, until he saw Aaron walk through the hallway with an expression he couldn't decipher.

"She…"

“No,” the man responded immediately. “The victim's name is Olivia Anderson. She’s not Y/N”

Hearing this he let out a breath of air and took a couple of steps until he reached the opposite one, to wrap him in a hug of complete relief. Hotch responded with warmth and a murmur of 'I told you so', which was interrupted by the arrival of the rest of the team.

Even though you still weren't answering the calls, Spencer was able to feel calmer during the flight, enough to analyze various aspects of the case that allowed him to offer valuable contributions for the future. When delegating the commissions, the unit chief was condescending to him and asked him to go to the last crime scene, so that with some luck you could meet and he could make sure that you were okay.

When they arrived in Nevada, the snow greeted them and Spencer adjusted his scarf tighter as he got into the car that Morgan would drive to the crime scene. The walk wasn't long and once there Derek motioned to his partner when the officer arrived to talk to both of them, as if he were permitting him to enter the building instead of staying. Spencer didn't hesitate to practically run inside to look for your apartment, and when he finally found the door with the number 17 he knocked frantically, but when he didn't receive a response he only became more frustrated.

Where the hell were you supposed to be?

He felt a vibration in his right pocket and almost dropped the device from his hand when he answered the call, without even looking at the identifier.

"Hello?"

“Reid, come back here,” Morgan spoke. “Y/N is with me.”

The agent didn't have to say it twice for Spencer to go down the stairs with the same speed he went up them, almost tripping on the way, and when he came out he looked for you in every direction. The snow and the tide of law enforcement personnel blocked the view a bit, but when his eyes finally met yours, you smiled and waved your hand to get his attention. Spencer ran, again, towards you, until he crashed into you in a hug. You were smaller than him and you fit perfectly against his body.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he asked in an angry voice, separating himself from you so he could look at you, but without letting go of your waist “I called you at least thirty times and you didn't answer, do you have any idea how worried I was?”

“I, huh… I left my phone at home and I'm just getting back from work, I had no idea what happened. Morgan already told me that there was a homicide.”

“Did you know her?”

“She's my neighbor,” you muttered sadly, looking toward the entrance of the building. “Oh, Crash, this is so horrible. She was… she was very good and kind to everyone. She didn't deserve this."

“I want you to go in there, pack some changes of clothes, and come back here, okay?”

"Why?"

“You will stay with me in the hotel until the case is over,” he ruled, with a tone that gave no room for opposition. “I need to work right now, but while you do what I asked of you.”

“But… I can't just leave my apartment like that, and what about my job?”

“I will talk to your boss and if he refuses, I will charge him with obstruction of justice or I will assign you an escort if necessary, but you are not going anywhere alone.”

You knew perfectly well that, although Spencer was a valuable member of the unit, he didn't have the power to do that, but because of the confidence in his voice you doubted for a second if he would be able to ask someone higher up in the bureau's hierarchy for that favor. You had rarely heard him speak like that, with a mixture of anger and concern, and he had never ordered you to do anything in your life. But he was doing it now, he was giving you specific instructions that wouldn't take no for an answer.

“Reid, we need you here” you heard Derek say from the other side.

"What's going on? Why do I have to leave here?”

“I'll explain everything to you later, okay? For now you go and get your things to call a taxi” he said, a little less agitated than he had spoken at first. Then he, in an unexpected act, gently kissed your forehead “Wrap yourself up, it's freezing out here.”

Although you had more questions, you knew that he was working and that you couldn't interrupt him just because, so you went to your apartment and grabbed a small suitcase to start packing clothes. Your phone was, as you expected, on the kitchen counter and you checked that he wasn't exaggerating with the number of calls he made to you.

When you left there was already a taxi waiting for you, so he just gave you the address of the hotel where the team was staying so you could get there. It was a picturesque place with lots of cheerful Christmas decorations, with a friendly guy as the receptionist. He already seemed to be aware of the agreement and after you checked in, he guided you to the room, where your friend would also be staying.

You didn't understand why it was necessary to keep you there and you hoped that he would call you at some point to clarify the situation, but he didn't. Since you had brought your laptop with you, you took the opportunity to continue working and it wasn't until a couple of hours later, you didn't even know how many, that someone knocked on the door. You didn't open it until you asked who it was and recognized your friend's voice, seeing him standing with his briefcase slung over his shoulder and a tired smile.

“Hello,” you sighed in relief, greeting him with a hug and then pulling him inside. You let him put down his belongings and sit on the bed, while you stood in front of him. “Do you want to explain to me what is happening and why I am here?”

“There is a murderer on the loose”

“That seems obvious.”

“There is a murderer on the loose who killed your neighbor, with characteristics surprisingly similar to yours, both physical and personal” he added and it took you a moment of silence to understand where the matter was going “I just didn't want you to be near there because he could come back"

“Do you think I'm in danger?”

“I don't know, but you're the kind of woman the unsub likes. I wasn't going to risk you”

You nodded your head softly, from your position of crossed arms.

“And what does your boss think about this?”

“He didn't know,” he confessed to you and you opened your eyes widely. “But I told him on the way here and he said to just try to stay out of trouble or Strauss would call him out on it. It's just that I... panicked, okay? When the police found Olivia's body they had not identified it and… I was afraid that it was you”

Suddenly all the calls and his face contorting into a grimace of relief when he saw you made sense to you, because at this point you hadn't even realized how much you and Liv shared. But Spencer had done it, that was his job after all.

“But I'm fine,” you said reassuringly, as you knelt in the space between his legs and met his gaze. “I’m safe, okay?”

“Did you see anything suspicious in the last few days? Anything that can help?”

“I don't think so, I spend all day at work” you lamented “I'm sorry.”

“Don't worry,” he reassured you, giving you a tired smile.

You knew your friend and you knew beforehand what stress did to his body, like those horrible migraines he had started to get or the dark circles under his eyes, and now his body language was screaming at you that something was still bothering him.

“You should sleep,” you suggested, reaching out with one of your hands to place it on his cheek. Spencer didn't complain, instead he closed his eyes and turned his head slightly so he could rub his skin against your outstretched palm.

It took you by surprise when, just a second later, he leaned down to grab your waist and help you get up from the floor. You were about to ask what he was doing when he maneuvered himself again until you were sitting on his lap, your legs dangling next to his and his arm wrapped tightly around your lower back.

“So we're cozy now, huh?” you scoffed, trying to mask with a smile the blush that had already spread across your face at the position the man had placed you in.

Spencer was a great lover of physical contact, contrary to what many might think, although this depended a lot on the person he was with. It had taken you months of effort to get a handshake and only as the years went by did, he begin to enjoy hugs with you. But after so much time you had gotten used to it and that's why the man became all clingy with you, after all it wasn't very common for you to see each other, which didn't bother you at all.

However, him holding you like that felt completely different than usual. You had only felt those butterflies in your stomach when, on his birthday, you had been so drunk and tired that you ended up sharing a bed. You had to admit that you liked him more than you should, waking up sheltered by his body, between a tangle of limbs and feeling the rise and fall of his calm breathing; and when the thought of having more nights like this crossed your mind you suppressed it immediately, feeling tremendously guilty about it.

But this wasn’t a product of alcohol or fatigue, but rather Spencer had done this of his own free will. His hair curled at the tips and you took the opportunity to gently brush some pieces off his forehead, while he watched you in complete silence.

“I don't know what I would do if something ever happened to you.”

His confession was barely a whisper that tickled your cheek, said with such sincerity that he took you by surprise. You couldn't measure the fear that had brewed in your best friend's chest that morning and that's why you couldn't understand his need to have you physically close, as he wanted to make sure you were there with him and not brutally murdered on a bed in the morgue.

A sigh of tenderness left you and you immediately pulled him close to you to hug him, feeling your hip fitting into the curve of his stomach and his face close to your neck, like he always did.

“Is that why you are like this? Baby, you don't have to worry about me. I already told you I'm fine."

“I know,” he murmured. “But I can't help it.”

“Well, you'll have to try it.”

“How do you want me to try something like that?” he exclaimed, separating from you so he could look into your eyes, and keeping the minimum distance between you two “I can't. I will always worry about you, you are my…” the words were cut off, because he didn't think there was a word that encapsulated well enough what you meant to him, but also because he was momentarily distracted by your lips; why was he getting distracted by them?

“Best friend in the whole world and sole owner of your heart?”

“Something like that,” he responded, laughing for the first time that night, and as he did so his face only moved closer to yours. He was strangely nervous about your presence and didn't know why, so he didn't help much when you leaned against his body so he could hold you better. Spencer just hoped your ear couldn't pick up the increase in his heartbeat.

“We should be able to stay like this forever,” you muttered absently, and although you didn't mean to be serious the words hit the man worse than they should.

For a moment he contemplated the possibility of actually staying with you forever and then he realized it wasn't an idea he disliked. From an early age every time Spencer thought about his future you were in it, but he hadn't thought about the role he wanted you to play. You had been friends for so long that he didn't believe there was anything more to your relationship, however, he was very wrong.

Was holding you like that awakening something in him that he didn't think was possible? Or was it the fear of losing you that made him realize that he would rather die than spend a life without you? No book or statistical study gave him an answer to what he was feeling and, to be honest, that terrified him.

He knew that you had tried to have a relationship with several men throughout your life, but none of them had managed to progress beyond a few months, due to one reason or another. However, Spencer wondered how long it would take for you to finally find love and if he could stand to see someone become your priority. It's not that he was jealous or possessive, just that he had been used to being someone important in your life for too long to accept the change from one moment to the next. He would always be happy if you were happy, but it made him sick to think that you would end up marrying someone completely unworthy of your affection and admiration; someone who didn't deserve the best woman of all. And as if it were an epiphany, Spencer realized that he wanted to be that man.

He needed it.

“We have to sleep,” he murmured, gently patting your back, because he was afraid that if you stayed like this any longer his mind would travel to some other inappropriate ideas. “Sleep on the bed, I'll sleep on the floor.”

“The bed is big enough”

“It doesn't matter, you use it,” he murmured. You had already stood up and were playing absentmindedly with the long sleeve of your blouse, without stopping to look at him.

"But…"

“I don't want to have this discussion today, okay?” the man had already taken some pillows and was spreading a sheet next to the bed. You, resigned, climbed up to the mattress and remained to kneel on it, watching your friend arrange his place.

“How many days will you stay here?”

"We don’t know yet. With some luck it will only be until tomorrow."

“You should visit your mom,” you murmured. Among so many emotions, Spencer had barely had time to think about Diana, at least until now that you had mentioned her, and he felt a pang of guilt. “It's almost Christmas, it would be a nice gift.”

“I think you're right,” he smiled. Things were ready and although he enjoyed talking to you now he felt extremely tired, so he just wanted to go to sleep. “Rest, okay? We’ll talk tomorrow"

“Good night,” you replied, smiling tenderly at him. An unexpected urge to lean in and steal a kiss grew in Spencer, which he tried to shake off of himself.

Without saying anything else he walked to turn off the light and then came back to lie down on the blanket, trying to sleep. When he was about to get it, he felt your arm fall over the side of the bed and your hand groping for any part of his body you could hold. In the end it was his hand that held yours and he couldn't see your blushing cheeks when he left a kiss on the back of it, nor his mischievous smile.

He knew when you had fallen asleep by the decrease in the strength of your grip, but although he tried to imitate you he couldn't do it. His mind continued to be tormented by the impulses that had invaded him that night, trying to find what reason was behind it, but also wondering how bad it would be to carry them out.

A little defeated, he got up from the floor, but not before carefully placing the hand that was holding you on your chest, and he went to see the landscape through the bedroom window. Snowflakes were falling and the lights of the casinos illuminated the view, reminding him that Las Vegas never slept, adding to these the colorful Christmas trees installed everywhere. In his family Christmas wasn’t celebrated conventionally, as it was just him and his mother having dinner ordered from a restaurant. There were gifts, they were almost always books or objects related to science, but he didn't make sense of the idea of warmth and love that revolved around the holiday. Until one time your family invited him to celebrate, he was finally able to understand that Christmas magic that everyone was talking about and from then on it was his reference for the celebration.

After staring at the window for a while he focused on the vision of you lying on the mattress, sleeping in that strange position that you always used to, and he asked himself how many years it was that he had been in love with you and how it was that he had never noticed it.

He let out a sigh that showed resignation, but also tremendous fear, and finally retraced his steps to pick up the blanket and pillows from the floor. He climbed onto the bed, knowing that he wouldn't be able to sleep otherwise, and he lay down next to you, trying not to make any movements that would disturb your calm. The last thing he saw before falling into morpheus’s arms was your peaceful face, and even when he slept his dreams were filled with your smile.

The unsub was successfully caught, just as he had predicted, the next day and that was when he could breathe easy again. You were no longer in danger, outside of the usual danger that a woman from the United States faces, so you could return to your normal life without any problems.

Once you were back at your apartment Spencer said goodbye, promising that he would see you again soon, and heeded your advice about visiting Diana. He asked Aaron if he could stay in Vegas, after all the Christmas holidays were right around the corner and he made the excuse that he could come back if a new case came up. When the boss granted his request he wasted no time and headed to Bennington Sanitarium while the rest of the team headed to Virginia on the jet.

When he arrived good news about his mother greeted him, all referring to the improvement she had with the new medication, and when the doctors' report was finished they took him to the room where she was. Diana was reading to another patient and Reid smiled lovingly at the sight, a smile that was reciprocated when his mother noticed his presence.

“My child, I didn’t expect your visit,” she murmured, while she received the man in her arms.

“There was a case here and I decided to stay with you for a few days, if that's okay with you.”

“Of course it's okay with me, do you think I wouldn't want to see you?” she smiled, patting his face and hearing him laugh.

Both of them moved to her bedroom where they shared stories that she hadn’t read in the letters or that deserved to be deepened now that they were together. Her mother talked to her about how she had been feeling, some workshops she had taught and new people who had joined and she had befriended. He was very happy to see Diana so happy and lively, contrary to other visits where the circumstances had been more unfortunate.

The talk was interrupted by a nurse bringing dinner to Diana and a portion of contraband for Spencer, who was extremely grateful. In the middle of the silence of dinner his mind returned to you and when he looked at his mother, he knew that if anyone could give him good advice it was her.

“Mom, can I talk to you about something?”

“Of course,” she replied, pushing her food aside so Spencer could sit on the bed with her “What is it?”

“Well, huh… I guess you remember my friend Y/N, right? My God, of course you remember her” he answered himself, knowing that he was always talking about you in his letters “The fact is that I… I have felt weird with her since my birthday.”

“Weird how?”

“I don't know, like… different,” he murmured, not knowing if that would be the right word for the nature of his feelings.

“You don't want to be her friend anymore?

“Quite the opposite, actually,” he murmured nervously. He considered it prudent to explain the situation that had arisen from the case and about your stay with him during these days, so that his mother could understand the fear that he had suffered, before continuing talking “And last night when I got to my room and she was there I felt… I don't know, I don't even know how to say it. I only felt enormous relief to see her well and I wanted her to always be well."

“Well, you grew up together. It's normal that you worry about her, you guys are almost like family”

“But I can't see her like that,” he interrupted her. He hated her comparison, because he knew what brotherly love was and it was definitely not how he felt about you “I think I'm in love with her. No, I know I'm in love with her. And I… I'm scared”

Diana's attentive eyes studied her son and Spencer didn’t know how to interpret her silence, until he felt his mother's hand placed on her knee and saw a smile appear on her face.

“Oh, my boy… Why are you afraid to love?”

“I am not afraid to love. I'm afraid of not being loved”

That was. Spencer wasn't afraid of having those feelings, but rather he was afraid that they wouldn't be reciprocated. If he confessed things to you, he risked having the greatest romance in his life or being cruelly rejected by the best friend he had ever had.

Diana cupped her son's face with both hands and gave him a compassionate smile.

“You are, for more years than you can think,” she exclaimed, with complete confidence, and the man frowned in confusion.

"How do you know?"

“A mother notices those things, son,” Diana laughed. “Even one like me.”

Would his mother be telling the truth? He wasn't the best at reading social cues and that was clear, so he didn't know the difference between friendly behavior and one that held another interest when it came to you, but he doubted for a second if Diana was the best person to interpret those signs. He didn't even entertain the possibility that you had feelings for him, I mean, you were so pretty and funny and cool and he… well, he was just him.

“Are you going to tell her?” she added, noticing that he had remained silent.

"I should?"

"Sure! If not now, when will you do it?”

"But I…"

“But nothing,” she interrupted him. “I want you to go find her and tell her.”

"Now?!" Spencer screamed, feeling his mother get up and push him to the exit. “But mom…”

“When will you be in Las Vegas again?” she pointed out “I'm not going to leave here, you can come back tomorrow.”

"But it's too late"

“So what, Spencer? “Do you think I don’t want to see you married before meeting the creator?” Diana insisted and the man opened his eyes widely in a mixture of surprise and amusement. “The sooner the better. Go tell her, come on. And it would be better if you come back tomorrow that she will accompany you.”

Spencer watched her from the hallway for a few seconds and at the woman's security he felt a certain emotion, letting fear be replaced by pure motivation for the first time. He nodded and took a couple of determined steps toward the exit, but then he stopped and turned to wrap his mother in a tight hug.

"Thanks, Mom. I love you”

“I love you more,” she smiled. “Now go.”

Spencer left there completely determined and took the first taxi he saw to take you to your apartment, with his heart beating like crazy all over his chest and his mind busy searching for the words with which he would profess his feelings for you.

Inside your apartment you let out a squeal when you heard the microwave announcing that your reheated food was ready and you rushed there to return as soon as possible to see David Tennant's hottie in a trench coat. You had to admit knowing Doctor Who, at first, had been against your will, but now it was an acquired taste that you quite enjoyed and accompanied you on your sleepless nights. After a few seconds you returned to the living room with your burrito in your hand and just when you were about to play the Christmas special when someone knocked on your door, startling you a little.

“Mrs. Jensen, is that you? I already told you that I haven't seen your cat around here” you half shouted, without opening the door, but there was no response “Hello?”

“It's me,” said a fairly familiar voice. You thought you were wrong so you opened the door just a little and through the chain lock you could see that, indeed, it was your friend.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, opening the door fully. “I thought you were going back to DC.”

“I changed my mind” he replied and until then you noticed that he was holding a bouquet of tulips decorated with a white bow, which he extended in your direction for you to take. That only added to your confusion.

“Wow, I… Thank you?”

“Can I come in?” He asked timidly and as soon as you scooted to the side he walked into the apartment, not looking at you.

"Everything's fine?"

"No. I mean, yeah…” he stammered, looking you up and down. You were wearing thermal pajamas with a Christmas print and you were without shoes, with a messy bun holding your hair. “Did you like them?”

"What?"

“The flowers,” he pointed out.

"Oh yeah. They are beautiful” you smiled, looking at them carefully. There was a good number of red tulips, some open and others were just a small bud. “What are they for?��

“I didn't want to arrive empty-handed,” he lied. “I got them at a flower shop near here, a very sweet old woman sold them to me.”

“Well, thank you, then,” you smiled and he responded in kind, but then he didn’t speak again. You were just observing him, not figuring out what was causing his strange behavior. “Do you want to sit down?”

The flowers ended up in a vase on the counter in the kitchen and when you returned he was already sitting on the couch, legs together and hands on his knees.

"And how are you?"

“Well, I was about to eat something while watching the Doctor Who Christmas special,” you told him. You expected him to start ranting about fun facts or the story or the actors or anything, but he just smiled at you understandingly and stayed silent. “Is your mom okay?”

“Yes, she is. I was having dinner with her a while ago, but... I thought I'd come here because I want to tell you something important."

Oh, you thought, there's the real reason for his nocturnal visit.

"Yeah? What is it about?" you asked, slightly worried about whatever he had to say.

Everything he had thought about in the car seemed to have been erased from his memory and now Spencer didn't even know where to start. He had only confessed these kinds of feelings to two people in his life and neither of those times had turned out well, so he didn't know what to expect.

“Okay, I'm going to tell you, but you have to promise me that you will take it in the best way, okay?” he asked and you nodded. "And this won't change anything between us if you... if you don't agree with what I'm going to tell you."

“Hey, you're scaring me,” you joked nervously, but when you didn't hear him laugh your fear became genuine. “Is something wrong? You know you can tell me anything.”

“It's not a bad thing. Well, not unless you want it to be.”

“Well, tell me then,” you encouraged him kindly, with a smile that provided him with the courage he needed.

You were so pretty and he just wanted to kiss you to death.

“We've known each other for practically our entire lives, right?” he began “I still remember the first time I talked to you. And I don't speak figuratively, but I really remember it, it's one of the things from my childhood that my brain didn't throw away. I had been watching you from the window because you went out to your yard to spread a blanket to play with dolls and cars and all kinds of things. Sometimes you jumped rope and other times you kicked the ball and all I could think about was how you could have so much fun being alone. I mean, I was just reading and studying things with my microscope and you know, nerdy things” he murmured, letting out a short laugh “Until one day you knocked on my window and asked me if I wanted to play with you.”

“My mom told me to do it,” you confessed, “Well, I suggested it, but she encouraged me to do it. It always made me sad to see you there and I thought you were just too shy to come over and play.”

“But no one had ever done that. Include me in some activity, I mean. Everyone made fun of me at school or called me weird, but not you, not even when I deserved it. It made me happy that a girl like that wanted to be with me and even though you had too much energy, somehow I could keep up with you. When we grew up I thought you would just get bored of me, but that wasn't the case and even when I was promoted in grade you stayed in contact with me. You were there when mom got worse and I had to send her to that sanatorium and yet your family treated me like I was your own family. You have always been there for me and you have made me feel less alone in the world, and I don't think I have ever thanked you for that.”

“Oh, Crash,” you smiled, a couple of tears gathering on your eyelids. “You don't need to do that. I have done everything because that is what friends are for.”

“But I don't want to be friends,” he said immediately and your expression changed to a worried one at that moment. The silence between you made you imagine the worst, but it was only because he was gathering the courage to continue “To me you are something else.”

Your face contorted into another grimace, but this time one of surprise and confusion.

"What do you me…?”

“I'm in love with you,” he spat. This time all his years of training were of no use as he tried to decipher your expression. “And it's okay if you don't feel the same way about me, I'm not asking that of you. I just want you to know that the day I got here for the case I... I was going crazy at the mere thought of someone hurting you. I didn't realize that you meant everything to me until that moment and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since. That night I just wanted to hold you and keep you safe for the rest of our lives and although I don't have much experience, I think that's what love feels like. I have always loved you, only now it is a different love. And I'll understand if you don't feel the same way about me and I just misinterpreted things, but please, if that's the case, just let me stay your friend because I don't think I can handle messing things up. I don't ask you for anything more than that, that whatever you feel, things don't become uncomfortable just because of what I just told you."

There were a few seconds of silence and then he finally dared to look at you. You were stunned, with your gaze lost and your lips parted. Years of friendship passed before the man's eyes, who interpreted your lack of conversation as a rejection of his feelings, and he felt his heart break a little. From the beginning he was aware that this possibility existed, but now that it had materialized, he realized that perhaps he wasn’t ready.

But then your eyes met his and he felt your hand reach out to his, which was already shaking slightly.

“Your hands are cold,” you observed, sliding a little on the couch so you could take both of his limbs. Spencer followed your movements carefully and could see how you brought both hands to your lips to place a kiss on his knuckles.

“Is that all you have to say?”

“I actually have too much to say, I just don't know how,” you confessed.

“You don't have to lie to avoid hurting me. I already told you, it's okay if you don't feel the same."

“Spencer Reid,” you said sternly, thus forcing him to look at you. “Stop saying that.”

“So it's not like that?”

“Of course not, why would you think so?” You mumbled, really waiting for a response that never came. You watched him carefully, trying to memorize all his features, while you reflected on how much he had changed in front of your eyes and how he was still the same scared little boy from the window.

“Because… I don't know, there has never been someone who loves me the way I am.”

“Oh, Spencer,” you murmured condescendingly, “I've loved you since you were an ugly kid with glasses who couldn't stop talking about science, what other proof do you need?”

He definitely wasn't expecting that answer and that's why he started laughing; not like a soft laugh, but a loud, euphoric laugh.

“Why do you call me ugly kid?”

“You were!” You defended yourself, accompanying him in his joy. You had probably ruined the most romantic moment of your life, however, it was worth it to see the man laugh like that. And after all you were still his best friend, it was your job to joke like that “And yet I liked you, you can't imagine how much. Then you grew up and became this perfect prototype of a boy and you were so focused on your studies that I thought you weren't interested in me, at least in that way. But you were my friend and I was happy like that, I always have been. I tried to bury those feelings because I was also afraid of ruining things, but now you come to tell me all this, and I just don't believe it."

"Are you serious?" he asked, trying not to get overwhelmed by the fact that you had just called him perfect and that you were confessing to him that you had been feeling what he was feeling since you two met. When you nodded, another laugh escaped him as he thought that, after all, his mother had been right.

He had to take a moment to digest the situation. You loved him, you really did, and things weren't ruined. He felt foolish thinking about how long you had been keeping this quiet and how he hadn't noticed, but he concluded that if he had found out at another time he probably would have freaked out and things would have ended very differently, a result he would regret for the rest of his life.

Your hands were still joined and Spencer began to rub his thumb against the back of them, feeling the luckiest to see you smile at him that way and knowing the reason for that expression.

“Is that why you brought me the tulips?” you exclaimed in a sweet voice. You should have sensed it before but only now did you realize that detail.

“Yes, I wanted to surprise you,” he replied, quite satisfied with himself. “I thought about them because, in fact, in the language of flowers, tulips symbolize hope, sincere love and prosperity, but depending on their color the meaning can be transformed. Red tulips, in this case, are ideal for a statement and express unconditional love.”

You let out a gentle laugh, feeling nothing but tenderness at his reaction.

“There's my usual boy,” you said with a proud tone, reaching out to leave a loud kiss on his cheek. Something in Spencer stirred when he heard you call him yours and that desire to kiss you returned, this time with more intensity than before.

"And then?" he asked in your direction. With your eyes you asked for a more complete explanation of what precisely he was referring to “Do you accept me? Do you accept my love?”

“Of course I do,” you replied obviously, giving him that confirmation he needed.

“And if I asked you something serious for us right now, what would you tell me?”

You looked at him for a second, looking for a sign of lying on his face, but when you didn't find it, you smiled, your cheeks completely blushing.

“I would tell you that I would have liked to be more prepared. I'm in pajamas and I smell like a burrito, I think I've looked better."

"It doesn’t matter. "I can take you on a date later, in a nice and elegant place, like you deserve," he murmured excitedly, stopping holding one of your hands to place it on your face. "But only if that's what you want."

“I do, handsome,” you smiled, sliding your hand to surround his wrist. “It's the most definitive yes of my entire life.”

You had dreamed of this moment for a long time, but you had never believed it could come true and now that it had, your heart was overflowing with joy. He was smiling from ear to ear and you suddenly realized that his eyes traveled momentarily to your lips. You saw him swallow, undecided about the next move, so you decided to save him a little effort and reached out until your lips collided with his.

You took him by surprise and although at first it felt strange to be doing that with him, almost as if it were wrong, after a couple of seconds the contact relaxed and you knew that you no longer wanted to kiss lips other than his.

With every second he caressed you in a deeper and more needy way, very different from what you had expected, even his hands took you firmly by the waist to keep you as close to him as possible. He tasted like years of mutual longing and mint gum and it had you completely giddy. You separated only when it was vital to take a breath and then you continued kissing, already addicted to a drug you had just discovered.

“You're so pretty,” he sighed against your lips, allowing himself to compliment you now that he knew you reciprocated. “So, so pretty. And so sweet to me” he recited between kisses, each one gentler than the last “You are perfect.”

“Reid, stop it,” you asked him, feeling nervous from hearing him talk to you like that and feeling him kiss you like that.

"Why? That's what I think. I've always thought so” he smiled, separating himself from you just to enjoy the sight of your beauty, and then he gently caressed the side of your head “I love you” he said.

Your cheeks already hurt from smiling so much and yet you managed to give him that vision again, and how could you not? The man of your dreams was telling you that he loved you.

You leaned in again to kiss him, this time more briefly and delicately, and then you looked into his eyes.

“I love you too” you confessed.

And both of you knew that you didn't need anything more than that.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove

people who might be interested: @stephsycamore @andiebeaword @tothecar @reiderwriter @babymetaldoll @zuckker-blog

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #jason gideon #JJ #penelope garcía #david rossi #emily prentiss #spencer reid x you

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deblklesb · 9 months

Text

[Three Strikes — Abby x Reader OneShot]

[established relationship, fem! reader, MDNI]

CW: name calling, semi-public masturbation, dom!abby, humiliation, degradation, pussy slapping, face grabbing, dacryphilia, edging, sub!reader, after care (more like middle care i guess?), the safeword isn't mentioned but it's already established too.

a/n: this took me TOO long to finish but i did it!!! anon tell me if you enjoy it, i truly hope you do 💗💗 reblogs keep the word turning y'all

word count: 3,6k | not proof read

The whole day Abby couldn't keep her hands to herself, but it was driving you insane.

On a beautiful, sunny day, you both were at a family party. Her father was retiring from the hospital and everyone was celebrating this new phase of his life. There was tons of food and a bunch of relatives, children running around, a nice music filling the air and the smell of the barbecue being prepared were messing with your senses already.

As a very socially embarrassed person, you always tried to keep a good impression in front of her family: being in your best behavior, smiling to each relative, answering questions and engaging in conversations as well as you could. Demanded too much of your social battery, but at the end of the day you could always try to put an effort for her, it was worth it.

But here's the thing: today, Abby wasn't in her best behavior. She kept touching you, kissing your neck, pushing you to empty corners, sneaking out to her old bedroom just to have an alone time. You both couldn't do much, so it was frustrating and painful and it was killing you inside. That ache between your legs grew at each sneak out, you always ended up with heart racing and bewildered in front of her relatives later, trying so hard to keep your mind in the right place. For God's sake, you had to hide a prominent bite from her 58 year-old aunt during a conversation, and the whole time Abby was looking at you from the other side of the room like she could undress you, with those piercing blue-eyes, from afar. The heat crept up your body; damn her and her effect on you.

"You have to stop!" Your voice cracked when she kissed your shoulder, strong hands on your waist pulling you closer while she bent to taste the skin on your cleavage. More time and you would surrender completely inside that bedroom, making a scene that would send her grandma into a cardiac arrest. Still, you had both arms around her shoulders.

"Just a little bit, hun…", her voice would make you crazy. "You're looking so good, being all polite today"

"Fuck, Abigail Anderson!" Finally you pushed her, adjusting your dress even though all you wanted was to come back and let her do her thing with you. Then you held her face and stared at her. "You have got to stop!"

And it was the look in her eyes that said it all: you were never demanding, never this aggressive, and it was the first strike. Not seriously, like in a relationship dynamic, but more when talking about… Sexual dynamic. She was the dominant one, you love to surrender, and talking back is a no-no. You could already feel that ache growing just by her expression. Fuck, maybe talk back wouldn't be that bad…

"Okay", was all she said, face still between your palms. "I got a bit carried away"

And she didn't say anything further. Although the conversation ended there and you gave her a small kiss before leaving the bedroom, something in the back of your mind reiterated that it wasn't as simple as that.

Later, after lunch, you got up from your place to drink a glass of water and when you came back those same hands pulled you closer, while she opened space for you to sit comfortably on her lap.

"I remember Abby always asked to go to the hospital with me. No matter how much I refused, she kept asking. One time, I swear, she cried until I agreed to take her. No doubt she ended up working inside a hospital", her father was talking and making people chuckle about it. Abby, on the other hand, roller those beautiful eyes and smirked.

"Come on, dad! Don't need to expose me like that"

"There's not much to expose, love, we all know you're a brat", you murmur under the hem of the cup, before sipping the water.

It was a simple comment only for her to hear, but apparently it went louder than expected and now a bunch of people were laughing.

"Damn right! When she was little I had to deal with scenes when she wanted to watch cartoons", her aunt said back.

Your face heats up, insides twirling under the aspect of being in the center of the attention, and while smiling fondly your girlfriend rests her face on your arm.

"That's strike two, babe", why the fuck her voice always sounds so good when whispering?

Her hand presses your waist and you clench the thighs, almost choking with the water.

The moment passes as a sign on the road, and when you notice you both are saying good-byes to everyone. The night is fresh and starry, and as Abby drove to your shared apartment you kept looking at her.

Calmer now, with the thought of going home in mind and the relief of not being around that many people, you relax in your seat and take in the sight of her.

Her eyes are locked on the road in concentration, lips calling for you as she keeps driving. Her side profile is really gorgeous, just like every other detail that makes you quiver just by thinking about it. You distinctly remember being so intimidated by her at first, because she was so serious and stressed.

You both met at the hospital, when you had to check in due to an injury so bad people thought you needed surgery. Abby was the professional at the emergency, and after taking a look at you she ran out to receive another patient, pretty much stressed out with the movement in the room. You barely talked, since you were in pain and trying to hide the embarrassment of needing an emergency treatment because of a stupid game.

"You said you were doing what?", she asked when she came back to check on you.

"Dancing on a coffee table", you murmur, pain significantly less intense after the medication.

"Now why would you do that?" She was looking at the medication bags, but you still felt your face getting warm and looked to the other side.

"I lost a game", and after she chuckled you rolled your eyes. "Come on, I'm sure I'm not the most stupid person in this room"

"Oh, you're absolutely not!" Her voice was different now, and when you turned back at her a fond smile adorned her pretty features. After adjusting the bags, she leaned over closer to your ear. The sudden lack of space startled you, but there was no time to process before she started talking again. And that was the first time you melted under her voice. "See that guy there? Swallowed a bunch of small plastic soldiers just to show off to his friends"

"What?!", you widen your eyes while she laughs, a cute little giggle.

"Last week a woman got here with a deodorant cap inside of her"

"What? But how-", the answer to the unfinished question comes when she just looks back at you, eyebrows a little bit arched, and then you're feeling your face getting warmer again. "Oh… Jesus"

And you both laugh together.

Looking back, you still don't know how you'd end up with her. But as much of an unexpected event, you're so glad you did it because you get to love the most amazing woman on earth.

"Why are you looking at me like that, babe?" She smirks when noticing you staring, all cocky and flustered. You're so dumb for her.

"Nothing", you smile back, a hand traveling to her thigh. "Just admiring you…"

"Liking the view?"

"Too much" An idea sparkles so bright you can't deny yourself the opportunity. You have to contain the smile, but not later the words come out. "You were very touchy today…"

"Yeah, you look too nice in this dress, still can't believe you put it on just to impress my family", she chuckles, a hand caressing your own exposed leg. "You know you didn't had to"

"I was kinda in the mood", she just hums in response, eyes on the road. "Y'know, it was a big surprise you didn't take advantage of it to touch me more, you were so clingy…"

"I didn't… Well, I certainly thought about it. But why are you talking about it now, you sure didn't let me go further then"

"Because we were in your family house and I didn't want to cause a scene", your fingers on her leg travel further in between her thighs, and then your free hand is doing the same with yourself. "But I can't deny I surely thought about it too"

She looks at you briefly, already getting the idea you're setting here. You know very well the traffic won't let you get home that fast, and how she takes driving seriously so she won't do anything while there. So Abby won't touch you at all… But that doesn't mean you can do it yourself.

"No. Don't do this", her voice is warning, serious now, and you recognize the tone because it's what she uses with you in the bedroom.

"But love, you won't be doing anything, you can drive", she hates every second of it as soon as your legs separate a bit and your hand go down inside your dress. She hates it, because all she wants it's to touch you herself.

And so you do. You fucking masturbate in the car, moaning and biting your lips, arching your chest, letting yourself go by the sudden desire that hits your body as soon as you get to see Abby in all her glory in a most private place.

By the time you get home, the adrenaline of the situation made the high easier and so you're soon hopping out of the car, legs kinda shaky. But your girlfriend was now pissed, fuming, silent and serious - and, oh, after so many times in that relationship you learned that silent and serious Abby is the most dangerous Abby.

She doesn't say a word on the elevator, the waiting thickening the tension as you both stand close inside the moving cabin. Her fingers are uneasy, like she's restraining herself to act up, and you just can imagine where they will be later that night.

As soon as the doors open, she walks out and goes on a beeline to the door. Glancing at her, you almost stop on track with her stare, so fucking piercing it could unravel you.

That was probably too far.

"That was strike three", she whispers as you unlock the door.

You expected her to take you as soon as you both get inside, but she doesn't. Instead, she proceeds like per usual, still restless, but your mind just stops functioning for a second because she's acting casually. Taking her shoes off, going to take a shower, making small talk.

The tension inside of you keeps growing, anxiety creeping, and a bit of disappointment making you pout everytime she gets closer but doesn't act. At some point she just gave you a peck on the lips and called you cute, but went sitting on the couch to watch something you were definitely not interested about. The sight of her in sweat pants and tank top made you quiver, why is she so fucking hot all the time?

In the meantime you also showered and changed clothes, and after all you end up standing in the living room, staring at her.

This isn't fair. She spent the whole day trying to get into you, and when you're finally ready she just ignores you? Leaving you needy like that?

"Abs, what's that all about?" You finally puts out, still standing.

"What, babe?" She briefly looks at you before turning to the TV again and it makes you extremely mad. She definitely notices the single shirt covering your body and stays quiet.

"You're… You're ignoring me", your demeanor changes, less pissed and more sulking.

"What? What are you talking about, come here", she taps the place next to her on the couch, where you sit. Her big, warm hand rests on your thigh as she looks at you more attentively. "What is it?"

"It's just… I thought you were… We would- You know", the words are a mess. It frustrates you to not be able to communicate, but after that overstimulating day you want nothing more than to step back and relax. Processing words it's not a part of the ideal scenario.

"Oh, you mean… You thought I would fuck you?" She's still casual about it, which deepens your sulking. You nod, receiving an arching of her brows. "Oh, so this is what this is about?" Before you can answer, she just throws: "You were so caught up in your little game that you forgot that stuff doesn't go just as you wish… Poor baby, sometimes you're such a dumb slut", she sulks in mocking.

Your face gets warmer as you find it harder to speak, too stunned. And she chuckles.

The sudden humiliation gets into your body in the form of a wetness between your legs and a sinking sensation in your stomach, the two things added to a deep need to look away. But you refuse to, you can't let her have that much so soon.

"Do you want me to take care of you?"

"Yes", you nod again, legs instinctively turning to her a bit as you lean closer now. Her hand caresses your skin, thumb going down in between your thighs as she looks at you like she's playing.

"What's the magical word?" Her breath reaches your face and you are so close now, the desperate need to kiss her growing inside. Fuck her.

"Please", you whisper, nose touching hers.

"Open your legs", she instructs.

You obliged, her hand traveling to hold your leg in that position whilst the free one lightly touched your core. The anticipation for long was consuming you from inside out, and the additional contact, just where you needed, was igniting the fire.

"Oh, look at that…!" She smiles at the perception that you're not using panties. "My sweet slut it's showing off"

The experience passes like a blur into your mind until she finally takes your shirt off and lays you down into the couch. After she almost made you cum once but left you hanging there, whiny and desperate, so close to begging after just a moment of her touches.

You moan so loud when she holds your face into a strong hand of hers, and the other sinks two of her fingers into your wet pussy. It's not just the overstimulation after you got so close to that high. It's all the tension from before, the way she keeps laughing and chuckling at the way you move your hips and her stare.

"Taking it so well, you're such a whore right?" You nod, remembering how she doesn't like when you don't answer. "Yes, yes you are. Needy and ready for being fucked, this pussy dripping when you think of me", you nod again and again.

Inside that river of sensations you scratch her back and arms. She gasps, digits massaging your insides as you tip into that high again.

Just the grip on your chin and the closeness would be enough to get you drunk on her massive presence. The way some strands of honey-blonde hair fall around your face, her bulky body on top of yours, the heat radiating from her. It's madness, it's like hypnosis. But right now she also fucking you so raw, so deep, and you just wanna scream with the amount of feelings inside. Your hips buckle up and your nipples are hard with the exposure, you just wanna come all around.

"Abby, please, I wanna… Fuck, I'm gonna-"

And she fucking retracts again. Her fingers get out from between your walls and you moan in desperation, small nails digging into her flesh the best it can as tears start to come.

"Fuck no, no, no, no", you shake your head, absolutely helpless with tears rolling down your face, before your girlfriend slaps your exposed pussy.

"Hungry bitch", you squeal with her velvety voice, body trembling under the slaps. Your core is already so fucking sensitive but it doesn't hurt like someone outside would imagine. No, the sting makes you clench around absolutely nothing and you think you just get wetter with pleasure. "Why are you crying, hm? Tell me, fucking say it"

"I wanna come, fuck", the pronunciation it's not the same since she's still holding your face, but you don't care. You'll let her humiliate you like this, have you begging for more, if it meant you could come just once with her fucking you. "Fuck me until I come, Abs, please"

Your face heats. She really can get you like that after edging you just twice. Any other time you'd take more of that torture, but not today. Not after a whole day of teasing.

"My mouth of my fingers, choose fast", and she fucking keeps going with all the teasing because she knows you can't function that fast in moments like this.

You freeze for a second, still processing the question, when she slaps your pussy once more and you clench, moaning. That would make you cry again.

"Mouth or fingers", her tone it's firmer but you can see she's enjoying this whole thing. She's probably soaking wet herself.

"Mouth! Mouth, your mouth"

And she's soon kneeling in front of the couch, lips connecting to your dripping core as fast as she can and you gasp. Her face between your thighs is a sight to be admired, especially considering the way she seems so hungry. Abby eats you out like a starving woman, using her tongue in the best way while her strong hands push your legs open. The vision, added to the sensations of the wet contact and the explicit sounds, makes you tremble.

Riding her face like a desperate, you hold her head and pull it in the direction of your pussy, like that way she'll do more, your high will come faster. But really it doesn't make any difference to her, or she's just keeping the same tempo to piss you off. In spite of that, the way her tongue tortuously laps your core starts to take moans and gasps out of you. You're already too stimulated, something tells your body won't wait for long before tipping down into that high again. And Abby knows it.

Deviously, she increases her ministrations gradually and holds you in place. The contact of her hands on your thighs almost makes your skin burn. Your nipples rigid against the cold air, toes curling and choppy breaths, eyes rolling back; you're a mess now.

Heat blooms in your core and a chill runs through your body, and then you're moaning louder. It's coming strong, and as soon as one of your hands grabs a cushion you call your girlfriend's name in warning. Abby goes faster, enjoying the view of you losing your mind on her mouth, without saying how much that makes her wet.

When you start to murmur her name non-stop, almost crying again, hips twitching and legs shaking, it comes. And it's cathartic the fact that she lets you finish this time. The release is mind-blowing.

Your back arch, every single sensation almost disappears for a second because you can only focus on that orgasm.

Abby holds you in place when you start to move, your legs trying to close around her head and your body contorting, trying to put a break into the overstimulation. She doesn't let it, though, continuing to taste you in her tongue and groaning against your soaked pussy.

"A-Abs!", you scream, pulling her hair again.

With a last fat lick, the blonde finally backs away with a devious smirk.

You still have twitching hips when she kisses your abdomen, trailing the caring act up your front until she can kiss your chest. Abby holds you by the waist and her heat involves every inch of you when she pecks your shoulder.

It all seems to pass through your vision like an out of body experience, but in contrast the tactile sensations are loud. You like having her close like this, and soon you're holding her face with all the care in the world to peck her lips over and over, still catching your breath.

"You okay, babe?" Abby smiles when you nod in response, faces so close you can feel her breath mixing with yours. "Wasn't too much?"

"It was perfect, love"

You wanted to stay like this forever and so as soon as she gets up you're making a face of discontent.

"Won't you… I wanted to make you feel good too"

Unlike yours her body still has all the clothes, which you just noticed because she decided to move away. Her hair is kinda messy and despite the look being to stay at home the woman still looks so gorgeous.

Thinking about the fact that she almost took your soul out minutes before, it's unfair you don't get to make her come too.

"Drink some water, sweetheart, and then we can continue. Okay?" Her voice comes from the kitchen, and you just get to verbally agree before she returns with a glass in hand.

The blonde sits next to you on the couch, caressing your neck and shoulders as you sip the liquid.

"You didn't think I would do just this after your joke in the car, right?" She whispers, smirking when you roll your eyes. Her hand rests on you exposed thigh, sensitive skin sending the feelings straight to your core. "You think you'll be that bold while I ride your face?"

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