Abby Anderson X Reader - Blog Posts

𖦹 MORE THAN A WOMAN ⇆ abby anderson

┆︎summary ┆︎and they say vampires and werewolves don't get along.

┆︎tags┆︎werewolf! abby, vampire! reader, established relationship, they're so gross in love power bottom reader, domme reader, sub abby, werewolf biology...so...knotting, and dual sex werewolves...and also gp!abby, biting, marking, facesitting, strap-ons, orgasms control, a little overstim

┆︎wc┆︎2.8k

┆︎an┆︎if the concept of gp (girl penis) makes you uncomfortable i included the strap tag so you can delude yourself that way

abby presses her nose to the elegant slope of your neck. you tilt your head, just so―you probably don't even realize you're doing it. but in doing so, you allow her more room.

"you smell like other vamps" she grumbles, slightly peeved. "it stinks"

your body shifts underneath her own. a page turns in your book, audible in the otherwise quiet bedroom. "well get off of me then" you reply, though your arm is wrapped pretty tightly around her waist―keeping her anchored right where she is. you're freakishly strong when you want to be. "i would hate to upset your delicate senses"

below the somewhat pungent scent of vampires, dead and decaying, sticking to your skin, there is the scent of your soap. so, you had tried to get rid of it. despite her jokes, abby knows you know that she doesn't really mind it as much as she says she does. and she's more than content to stay in your lap like this for the rest of the night―since there has been an apparent early end to your nightly activities.

"no way" she says, chuffing against your skin. "you couldn't get rid of me even if you tried."

"well it's a good thing i have no intention of doing so" is your smooth response, adjusting your hold on your book to wind her braid over your fingers.

"what did you get up to tonight?" abby asks. sometimes she likes to follow after you when you go out. but mostly not. there's a better thrill to be found watching you come home all bloodied―adrenaline from a good kill sitting against your skin. "did you and the girls have fun?"

besides. vampire's aren't too keen of werewolves, and the sentiment is returned. whenever she's present, abby isn't spared from a barrage of condescending remarks from your friends―but she knows you delight when they call her your wolf. vampires, you included, like to play mean. abby likes it, but only when it comes from you.

a chuckle. "a time we had, certainly. gambling"

abby nips at the side of your throat and then whistles lowly. "that's my girl"

your hand fists more tightly in her hair, winding her braid around your hand like a leash―pulling her back just a fraction. there's something disarming in your gaze, tongue running over your fangs absentmindedly as you stare. "and you? what did my precious puppy get up to tonight?"

"well, y'know" abby starts, face flushing bright red. from shame or arousal, she can't tell. with you, it's most likely a little bit of both. it's no secret to anyone that she turns into a lapdog around you―eager to please and be doted on. and the name puppy is as endearing as it is teasing when it comes from you. "figured since you didn't feed yesterday, or tonight that you might be thirsty. went and stocked up for you"

you perk up at that, fondness seeping into every pore of your face. so much so that abby flushes again, looking elsewhere. "such a sweetheart" you murmur, dragging your knuckles down the side of her face.

"yeah" abby says, a beat too late, swallowing thickly―awkwardly shifting her hips against your lower thighs. your brows quirk up immediately when you feel her half-mast against your nightgown. "i deserve a reward. for being such a good girlfriend"

you huff a laugh. "you really are a dog, aren't you?" you tease, but acquiesced with a sinful little smile. abby shivered minutely, feeling your words brush up against her skin. "mm. come up here so i can kiss you"

wow that actually worked? she thinks in the back of her mind, clambering up to press her mouths to yours, eager and sloppy. nasty and filthy on purpose, delighting in the way your hand curls around her braid, moving her how you please. she's careful not to slice her tongue against your fangs―moaning a soft, baby, please, can i? into the kiss, rutting against the center of your thighs so that it's impossible not to know what she means.

it's like all of her senses are tuned to you. the sight of your face morphing into pleasure when her cock slides just right against your panties. how good it feels, wet. the smell of your arousal in the air, scent just as sweet slick as your cunt. your breath panting slightly in her ear and the taste of wine on your tongue.

but you're never one to give in easily. even as worked up as you are, your voice sounds perfectly cool when you say, "earn it" eyes all lidded with desire, gazing at abby expectantly. the only thing that gives away even the slightest bit of desire from you is the way you snap your book closed, shoving it to the far corners of the bed.

abby nods, half drunk off your scent alone, nosing against the side of your throat. she finds it in herself to pull away―just barely though―sitting back on her haunches to admire your body below her. the strap of your silk nightgown has slipped down to rest around your shoulder. she can easily see the dip of your breasts. and the lace edging of it has lifted up, exposing just the lower parts of your underwear, thighs plush and soft when her hand moves to massage the skin there.

she curls her hands underneath the hem of her tank top, pulling it up and off in one rushed go. shucking down her pants and awkwardly shoving those away too. your eyes rake down her body―appreciative.

"you're so soft" abby murmurs, sliding her hand down your legs, staring reverently at you. her mouth waters for you. hands trembling from sheer need alone when she begins to push your nightgown up inch by tantalizing inch. she's seen you naked hundreds of times already, but still can't hardly believe her eyes when she sees just how perfect you are. "so pretty"

you hum softly, spreading your legs nice and wide for her. and you giggle at the groan that leaves her lips at the sight of the damp patch on your lace panties. god, her hands itch to just fucking rip them off.

"don't rip them this time" you chastise, as if reading her mind. you beckon her forwards, groping at her tits as she devours your mouth. your nails rake down her torse, adding pressure when they reach her abs. abby pitches forward―moaning into the kiss needily, growing sharper in pitch when your hand suddenly closes around her cock.

"baby―" she gasps, pulling away to pant against the crux of your neck. her hips shift, bucking up readily into the feeling, chasing it desperately.

your laugh echoes in her ears and your hand pulls away. and before she can really realize it, you utilize that sexy vampire strength to flip your positions. you stare down at her like a predator does prey, eyes smoky and so hot it makes her cock twitch.

"what to do with you" you say, sing-songy, dancing your fingers up the side of her body.

abby swallows. "whatever you want" she promises, immediately. you raise your hips and her hands work to help you out of your underwear, smearing your essence against her fingers, feeling the stickiness web between her fingers.

"dirty girl" you say, voice giving away just how aroused you are, watching as she lifts them to her lips to suck them clean. and the two of you seem to be moving on the same wavelength, because when you raise your hips once more, abby is doing the rest of the work―pulling you to sit directly on her face.

a soft moan leaves your lips at the first contact, eyes flickering down to meet her own. her tongue laps eagerly at your cunt, flattening to slurp up your juices. you taste so good, and her eyes flutter shut as she gets lost in the taste. your knees relax into the mattress next to her head, a louder moan leaving your lips as you begin to rock back and forth against her face.

you chase your pleasure, alternating between swiveling your hips and grinding against her tongue. your hand smooths away the flyway's from her face, groaning out a soft fuck, good girl abby, when her tongue flicks up against your clit at the right moment. your skin is pleasantly cool, always is―and abby's fingers dig into the meat of your thighs, guiding your hips into a purposeful grind.

her tongue swipes through your folds, slipping into your cunt. your eyes widen, and your body pitches forwards, nails scraping at the wall for purchase before digging into the wood of the headboard. she likes watching pleasure take over you, twisting and shifting underneath your skin. your hair twists over your shoulder, neck craned to the side as soft sounds leave your lips and abby can hear the sound your nails make as the scratch down the wood.

your eyes meet and abby isn't ashamed at all to say her cock twitches at the hazy look in your dark brown eyes. cool air hits her mouth when you lift your hips. there's no patience left in you when you shift off of her face completely. abby moves when you move―understanding what you want without you even having to say it.

abby settles you down on your back and your legs part wide and open, spanning your fingers across the lower part of her pelvis, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. she scootches in, shuffling forward on her knees. her hand wraps the base of her cock, jerking it a few times to smear the precum everywhere. her hand cups your cunt, feeling the way it spasms underneath her heated palm, slicking her cock up nicely with your essence.

she likes watching your face whenever she pushes into your tight cunt―always has. you almost always throw your head back, and make this odd little sound, a cross between a grunt and a keen. and then your thighs twitch. always. she's obsessed with the way your body moves and twists. so alive.

"not too much?" she asks, checking in, grunting when she bottoms all the way out. "fuck, sweetheart. how are you always so tight?"

"mmm" you hum noncommittally, wriggling your hips a little bit at the stretch. your eyes flutter open, gazing at the place where your bodies are connected. your voice is more than a little dazed when you part your pretty lips to say, "and you're always so big"

abby doesn't bother to hide the way she preens, hands sliding down the length of your body. her wide palms settle on your hips, guiding your body against hers in a smooth circular motion―grinding her cock deep into your cunt. her brows knit in pleasure, fingers digging into your skin to stop herself from cumming too early. it feels like she could. your cunt is sucking her cock in like a vice.

your hand fists in the sheets directly adjacent to your head, moaning quietly when abby settles on her knees and begins to properly fuck into your wet heat. a curse leaves your lips, back arching off the bed as her cock pounds into your dripping cunt again and again. she can see the way your slick shines along her cock every time she pulls out, waiting till only the tip is inside you before roughly shoving back in. you feel like absolute heaven, gripping her so tight, so warm where the rest of you runs deathly cold.

the force of her heavy thrusts causes your tits to bounce, stomach clenching and quivering as moans pour freely from your throat. abby can feel sweat beading along her hairline―forcing herself to go faster, cock twitching inside you when you utter out a shaky, "f-fuck. abs. yes, yesyesfuck―shit, right there"

her hand gropes at your tit, fondling your nipple between her thick fingers before her hand slides off your chest all together. you're absolutely gushing, getting slick everywhere, making everything messy with it.

your hand slides up her arm, pulling her forwards to smash your lips together. it's nothing but teeth and tongue, and abby bites her lip so hard it bleeds, and you're quick to lick it up―moaning at the taste. a choked noise comes from her throat, grunting as her hips slam against your ass.

"baby―" abby pants, pulling back enough to stare at the entirety of your face. something possessive twists inside her, desperate for the way you gasp and lose yourself in the pleasure she's giving you. desperate to let everyone else know who you belong to, as if it isn't already obvious. something that makes her want to eat you or keep you close, away from prying eyes. maybe a little bit of both. "baby, can i? fuck―i'm so close"

you crane your neck to the side, legs kicking out when abby immediately latches down onto the skin between your neck and shoulder and bites. hard. her tongue is quick to soothe over the pain. she's close, right there and, fuck―she'll pop her knot in you any second now. a whispery moan leaves her throat, abs clenching as she nears her climax. she pitches forward, tucking her head into the sheets next to your head as her hips buck wildly into your pussy.

"oh i know that sound. don't you dare." you spit, eyes boring into her face, even as her thrusts grow sloppy and uncoordinated. "you're not cumming yet abby. i'll ride this cock until you're crying if you do"

she knows you'll make good on your promise. you have before. abby makes that same sound again, nibbling at your neck and shoulder. "i can't. 'm so close, baby―sweetheart, let me cum"

your hand pushes onto her shoulder, sliding along the sweaty skin there. she can feel her knot swelling before she sees it, cock flushed an angry red―throbbing and twitching inside of you. then your hand slides from her shoulder to her neck. not squeezing. not restricting her airflow at all.

just...claiming. your eyes level with hers. "harder." you demand, and abby groans pathetically as she obeys. your hand flies down to your clit, moaning loudly as you rub circles onto the sensitive nub. the headboard slams against the wall, a steady band in time with the pace she drives into your pliant body. the room is filled with the filthy noise of your fucking―abby's grunts and groans, the bedsprings squeaking underneath you. and your own moans, high pitched and trembling, voice dipping into high little keens as you demand her to pick up the pace.

your legs threaten to snap shut but abby forces them open even as your back bows off the bed. a string of curses leave your lips, eyes screwed tightly shut as you finally cum. "baby―baby, please" abby gasps, feeling her knot catch against your entrance with every messy thrusts. "i gotta cum, please, let me―"

your hands rake down her front. you make a mean sound, a condescending little hum that has pleasure sparking down her spine.

"awwww" you say, tugging her forwards by her braid again. her hips couldn't stop even if she wanted to, eyes unfocused as they train on you. your body twitches, toes curling, knees pushed up to your chest now even as overstimulation begins to settle in for both of you. "is my little puppy going to pop her knot soon?"

abby makes a pained whimper against your neck at the familar nickname, gnawing on your skin―panting wetly against it. hardly manages to get out another shaky, pl-please, please baby.

your hands sweep the mess of her hair out of her face. a soft moan leaves your lips, hand cupping her tits. "go ahead sweetheart, you earned your reward" and she cums immediately, hands scrabbling at the sheets as she goes shock still―knot pushing inside of you, locking you together. a guttural groan leaves her lips, feeling so good her vision goes white and when she comes to again its to the soft murmurs of praise you murmur into her skin.

"that was a big one" you tease, once she feels like herself enough to pull back to stare at you expectantly. her face turns bright red in embarrassment.

"sh..shut up" abby stammers, sliding her eyes away, feeling the knot swell down long enough to be able to safely pull out. you were right, but her cum trickles out of your puffy cunt in steady rivulets―which does nothing but add to her shame.

--

"jesus, fuck what happened to your neck?" your head turns up to the sound of your mutual friend, nora. she bends down, finger hovering in midair. "you look like you were mauled by a bear"

you shuffle the deck of cards in between your deft fingers, sliding a slow smirk abby's way. she at least has the right idea to stiffen up, looking away guiltily when all eyes zero in on her.

manny huffs, shaking his head with a laugh. "more like a wolf" he says, and this time, everyone joins in to laugh.

© amalainse -- do not copy, steal or plagiarize my works.

This right here is so adorable \(^ヮ^)/\(^ヮ^)/\(^ヮ^)/

My Babies

summary: your babygirl wakes up, and you and Abby share an intimate moment

cw: mom!abby x mom!reader, breastfeeding, one (1) kiss, fluff

You wake up to the piercing wails of your baby girl ringing through the bedroom you and Abby shared. Abby immediately shot up which scares the shit out of you, sitting up onto your hands. “Fucking hell,” Abby says in her graveling morning voice, stumbling out of bed as she slips on her worn-out house slippers. You watch as she drags her feet out of your bedroom, situating yourself against the headboard. Reaching for your phone on the bedside table, the screen nearly blinds you, the bold “4:58 AM” mocking you as you wish to sink back into the delicious warmth you and Abby shared. Abby slips back into the bedroom, her hand patting the small of the baby's back. A little smile creeps on your lips as you hear your baby girl whine and coo as Abby joins you.

“C'mere my baby,” you say through a pout, dragging the last syllable and making grabby hands towards the two. Your baby, just as excited to see,  jumping in Abby’s arms.

“Easy,” Abby says, handing you your baby, watching as she clamors into your lap, pawing at your (Abby’s) sleep shirt. Abby puts on her reading glasses, perched on the bridge of her nose as she grabs her phone, scrolling through the messages sent during the night. She puts her phone down before she slips under the covers, only her head poking out facing you and your baby girl. You make yourself comfortable, lowering your shirt so your right breast is freed. Eager is your little one, almost biting your nipple as she latches onto the bud. You wince, and an uncomfortable look washes over your face.

“You okay?” Abby asks, caressing the velvety head of the baby. Nodding, you look down and smile. Although you are ready to be done with breastfeeding, you will miss these sweet moments. Wake up so early that Abby doesn't even open her eyes as she heads to the nursery, and joins back with your squishy baby that you will happily feed her first meal of the day -caressing the baby’s face and watching as she suckles onto your nipple. “She's such a lil shit, yeah?” Abby shifts, face to face with the baby. Your baby girl smiles around your nipple, milk dribbling out the corner of her mouth. “Yeah, you are! My cute lil shit,” she attacks the baby with kisses that earn her little giggles. She wiggles around in your arms as Abby kisses her, audible smooches from your love below. 

“Abby! She needs to eat,” you laugh as you push Abby's face away, guiding your little one back to your nipple which she happily accepts. Abby stays by the two of you, head on your shoulder as she watches. Your little one’s hands creep their way up to Abby’s face, grabbing onto her nose, cheek, and anything she can touch, and Abby lets her. 

Smiling the two of you, the serenity of it all creates the comfortable silence of the early mornings of October seeping through the windows, orange and yellow illuminating the room you were in. You love every second of this and Abby agrees by catching your lips in a gentle kiss. And you three stay like this for a while, savoring the quiet and the gentle closeness,  as the day unfolds around you, still and perfect.

a/n: I wanted to get this out sooner than expected, but midterms kicked my ass, so enjoy this as I finished this during my ovulatory phase :)

visions — abby anderson.

summary: a love letter to trying (or the time when you met your favorite people in the world, an overly stressed med student and her overly adventurous one-year-old, in your apartment's hallway).

notes: constantly suffering from chronic baby fever so this is a present from me to you because i spend way too much time thinking about abby as a mom <3

୨・┈﹕✦﹕﹕✦﹕┈・୧

You’re stepping out of the elevator when you suddenly hear it— a series of light thumps on the floor, fast but determined like a tiny little elephant who really has somewhere to be right now. Another step and then you stop clumsily when a flash of golden hair comes rushing past you. You follow the sight with your eyes, tilting your head. A little girl is walking, no, stomping through the hallway. She’s no older than two years old, her thin shining hair in two short braids, blue jean overalls and red socks on her feet. She moves so confidently that you almost don’t think about it, almost have the instinct to look away as if to not accidentally appear nosy, but her tiny stature and wobbly sense of direction keep your attention.

You look around the hallway, expecting surely the sound of the little girl’s parent calling her name (something sweet and pretty and classic, you imagine; it’d suit her). You picture her name being followed by a tired sigh before her patents rush to catch up, maybe rolling their eyes in a way that pretends to be annoyed but unmistakingly holds a million times more affection. A perfect family, a tiny glimpse of a full life somehow existing right in your unimportant building.

The hallway is long and terribly empty. You look back at the little girl who is striding forward in less of a rush now, with no worries, like this is the same route she’s taken for years.

What are you supposed to say to get a kid’s attention when you don’t know their name? What’s something concise, yet nice, yet simple enough to be understood? Babysitting as a teen has prepared you for a lot, just maybe not all of it. It's been a little too long. You linger on it for just a second before spitting out the first thing that comes to mind. “Hi, princess,” It’s a little awkward, but you’re relieved when she immediately stops and spins around, like something about it sounded familiar— could be your sweet tone or the nickname, you’re not sure. The little girl tilts her head to the side, round cheek lightly squished against her shoulder. It's the cutest thing you’ve ever seen and it makes you giggle like a charmed kid. “Where did you come from?” you ask, but before you have the chance to reach her she pouts her lips, as if just now realizing that you’re not who she thought you were. And then she turns her back, like there's no time to waste, to return to her journey with renewed enthusiasm.

In a scarily fast moment, you realize that she’s going for the stairs. It would maybe be a slightly less terrifying idea if that stupid door actually worked— but it doesn't, it broke sometime last May and now it's awfully easy to open, no strength or shove required. Sometimes, if it's windy and quiet enough, you can faintly hear it swing back and forth from your apartment. The little girl reaches a hand out, not intimidated by the tall door more than three times her height. If you weren’t this terrified, you’d find it amazingly admirable. 

You don’t register you’re running until you reach her, don’t register the sound of fast steps behind you or the scream of Rue! or anything else other than the heavy relief on your chest when you lift the baby by her armpits and hold her over your hip against your side. She’s fussing in your arms immediately, upset that she’s being interrupted, especially by a stranger. “I know, I’m sorry, baby. It’s okay, you’re okay,” you coo, though trying to be soothing when your heart is beating this fast is admittedly not the easiest task.

“Rue!” Someone repeats, and this time you do hear it. A woman is running down the hallway, hand coming down to mindlessly drop a tote bag bursting with groceries on the floor by the time she’s in front of you. The little girl reaches out her arms immediately, tiny fists opening and closing furiously and you sigh with relief as you carefully pass her over to the arms of the tall stranger. Her hair is blonde but darker than Rue’s, held back in a braid that looks both pretty and messy, like it was once pristine and then slept on. She’s wearing jeans and a half unbuttoned white shirt, a black tank top underneath. Her chest rises and falls and you notice that yours is no different. Adrenaline is a strange bond to share with a stranger, but it does make things less awkward, knowing you’re both here, feeling the same thing. You meet her expertly focused eyes for just a second before she turns to look at the little girl, searching for anything that could be wrong. “I’m so sorry, sweet girl. You’re okay, right? You’re okay,” the baby flashes a precious, wobbly smile at the sound of her voice, but she’s quickly distracted by the endlessly fascinating rainbow of groceries that lie on the floor. Her tiny head peeks over her mom’s shoulder to observe and it’s like you both can take a more soothing breath now, knowing she’s okay. “Thank you so much,” Abby says. You blink a couple times before you realize that she’s talking to you. “Sorry, I really don’t know how that happened. We were— we just got home from the store and I hadn't even put down all the bags yet and I thought— I was convinced that I shut the door, but…” her rambling drifts off and the stranger takes another breath, reddish embarrassment crawling up her neck.

You understand, suddenly, that she’s not only struggling with the stress of losing and finding her baby, but also the shame of having to face a stranger who might judge her for it. It feels insane to you, to think that she would be forced to prioritize that right now. “Oh, no, it’s okay!” you rush to respond. “I saw her immediately, and you were here in seconds! She wouldn't have gotten any further than that,” your smile is soft, but you speak with enough confidence to be reassuring (babysitting lessons, perhaps), “It was just a scare— don’t be too hard on yourself, please.”

Abby looks disarmed by your answer, her eyebrows raised in surprise. A short moment passes before she nods and smiles back, a small gesture without any less warmth. It’s the most relaxed you’ve seen her so far and it suits her beautifully, enough to make your face feel warm. Her blushing is much less forgiving though, more physically evident on her skin, spread over her cheekbones and the bridge of her pretty nose.

Rue giggles and it distracts you both, her hand waving excitedly at the colorful bird printed on a box of cereal as soon as she spots him. Abby looks at you for a second too long before she clears her throat, joking, “Sorry, she really loves that guy.”

You hum. “He is pretty cool, to be fair.”

Abby tilts her head, copying your sincere tone. “I don’t know, I always thought he’d be kind of a dick in person. He just looks like the type.”

Your startled laugh makes her smirk but she's frustratingly good at hiding it, free hand covering her mouth casually enough that you don’t notice. You look at the grabbing motion of the baby’s hands and pout with sympathy. “She loves him, though. We should probably get him off the floor.”

“Yeah, I should get that— I guess I just ran out with the bag, huh?” Abby huffs. She looks and sounds, physically, a lot less anxious now, less ashamed and more annoyed at herself.

“Would you like some help?”

“That’s okay, I got it,” she’s not sure that she does but she says it anyway, instinctively. Abby tries to lean down and Rue clutches her shirt, pulling enough to communicate that she is not ready to be put down yet. Abby straightens her back quickly enough to communicate that she is not ready to risk getting her any more upset for today. She meets your eyes for just a second. “Well, maybe some help.”

“Sure, just some,” you chuckle. “I’ll get it, don’t worry about it.”

People say that to Abby a lot— don’t worry about it! She hears it from her colleagues when she inevitably asks for the notes from the last class she ran a little late to, from a few of her kinder professors when she’s a day past some assignment’s deadline, from the guy at the grocery store that picks up the packets of M&M bags from the floor when Rue’s curious hands knock them over, from her dad when she asks if he’d be okay with babysitting for just a tiny bit longer. It always makes her stomach turn with guilt, some cases more intense than others, her lips usually pursed as she turns around and takes a breath. This time when you say it, she finds the guilt passing through her with ease, a short visit that makes her shoulders tense before it gets replaced by something else. She believes you, for some reason. Her brain is quiet except for thinking, for once, that there could really be nothing to worry about.

Your hands move casually as you pick everything up, resting on your knees like it’s not uncomfortable, like they might as well be your groceries. The idea is startling. Abby thinks, suddenly, that if someone were to walk into this scene, they wouldn’t read you as a kind stranger. Your ease would hint to something else, a friend, a lover, a picture of a family. Abby finds herself looking at your hands again, brought back to reality only by the slight tug of her hair. Rue plays with her braid distractedly, mumbling to herself about her froot loops friend— except she hasn’t quite learned to pronounce it yet, so it sounds more like oot oops.

Abby chuckles, brushing some of her loose baby hair behind her ears, mumbling back answers to her gibberish to keep her entertained even if Rue doesn’t seem to need it. She’s always endlessly thrilled to just be outside, perhaps the one trait she got from her grandpa rather than her mom. Other than her light snoring.

“She loves you a lot,” you comment, rising from your knees with the bag hanging on your shoulder. You don’t ask and Abby doesn’t think about it—  you just start walking back to her apartment together. “Don’t you, Ru-Ru?” the baby giggles, her head turning to you, blue eyes sparkling. You laugh, “Oh, you like that name. It suits you, Ru-Ru.”

“That’s what my dad calls her,” Abby explains.

“He sounds like a man with taste,” you say. “What do you call her?”

“Princess.”

Your smile is wide and pleased. “That suits her even more, I fear.”

“I think so, too,” Abby agrees, a proud little glimmer in her eyes. She stops in front of her door, B06 engraved in silver. Is it always such a short walk from the elevator? She’s seriously thinking about it until, after realizing in an embarrassing second that she never introduced herself to the person kind enough to chase after her baby, help pick up her groceries and carry them home, Abby suddenly turns to you with widened blue eyes and pretty, reddened cheeks. You forgive her before she even says anything, and forget your traitorous reason before it gets a chance to warn you about how dangerous that thought is. “God, sorry, I never told you my name. I’m—”

“Abby, right?” you smile softly at her surprised face, chuckling before you explain, “One of our neighbors is an old friend of mine and she kinda threw this welcome party for me when I moved in. I promise we weren’t gossiping, but I think someone mentioned you.”

“Oh,” Abby nods casually, brushing it off as if she won’t be spending all night thinking about what your first impression of her might’ve been like. Rue fusses in her arms, a little grunt as she kicks her legs to be put down. “Sorry— I‘ll be right back,” Abby shares a quick look with you and you wave goodbye, not surprised to be missing Rue as soon as she turns around. You watch them walk inside together, a tiny hand waving back at you and making you smile as she excitedly makes her way to her playpen, shrieking bye-bye! Abby places a kiss on top of Rue’s blonde hair and makes her laugh with some noise that you don’t quite catch. She’s comfortable here, walking amongst colorful toys and biology books. She moves like an expert, pulling down her shirt where it rode up somewhere along the way. You make half an effort not to stare, but it’s half more than the effort Abby makes to not let it get to her head. The most confident she’s felt so far, she asks you, “Did that totally innocent welcome party of yours happen, like, two weeks ago? I think I heard some music.”

“It was extremely innocent,” you insist, eyebrows raised teasingly, “And no, sorry, not sure what that was— I moved here like a year ago.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

You grace her (or yourself) with a second of silence before you laugh at her awkward expression, the way she brushes a hand over her flushed face and huffs. “Fuck, that’s embarrassing. I’m kinda terrible at keeping up with this type of, uh, social stuff.”

“It’s not embarrassing, I promise. It’s a big world,” you reassure her. “Even bigger when you’re doing a million other stuff.”

You tell her your name and Abby, who is young like you but also highly knowledgeable on little specific human interaction cheat-codes that come with being a mom, nods her head and makes her eyes light up with what seems, to the naive eye, like recognition. “Oh, that’s right!”

You stare for a second before squinting your eyes. “Are you lying to me, Abby from B06?”

Abby grins, wondering when was the last time she found being caught this funny. “Yeah, sorry. I’ve never heard that name in my life.”

You laugh the loudest you have so far and a daydreamed life flashes in Abby’s head— in that big, dramatic way that it does only when you’ve been watching too many rom-coms every night, or when you’re getting too much dating advice from your friend who’s been married since eighteen, or maybe when you fall in love with a pretty stranger who seems to be able to read your mind. It’s an idealized vision of an idealized world, and Abby finds herself being completely okay to clutch it in her fists to keep, because it’s fucking lovely.

“Well, I forgive you,” you tell her, unaware (maybe?) of the chaos that you’ve induced inside of her. “You’re a busy girl.”

Abby tries to think of a good, smooth way to tell you that she could see herself saying your name everyday, placed adoringly after good morning and I miss you. All she comes up with is, “I got enough time to learn it.”

—

You play with the hem of your shirt, pajamas made of mostly Abby’s clothes every night, a scent on them that’s not yours but it might as well be. It’s yours in all the ways that matter, in the same sense that she is. Abby walks out of the bathroom wearing her usual pajamas— a shirt that fits too loose and boxers that are a little too tight around her thighs. She doesn't seem to mind them, and you don’t seem to wanna complain. She knows by the way you look at her. You’re leaning back on your palms, your head tilted, the same shyness and sparkly adoration in your eyes that you’d get when you didn't know each other all that well. It’s not too often that she sees that nervousness anymore, but she still gets glimpses of it, a blink of something on your face or your tone or your breathing that says I have a crush on you and I’m hoping you can’t tell. She likes that nervousness the best right now, the way it’s timid and then settles into something like cockiness when you remember that she’s looking at you just the same, when you remember how much you like the way she copies the tilt of your head and teases you as if she's not also smiling like you’re the most beautiful thing in the world.

Abby loves every moment like this, loves getting home and helping prepare dinner and making Rue laugh before kissing her goodnight, loves doing the dishes with you and flirting and talking about the day. Today, she’s especially looking forward to the latter.

“So, how was it?” she asks, the back of her thighs resting against the dresser. She’s trying to play it cool and she's annoyingly good at it, even now.

“Hm?” you hum, leaning further back to rest on your elbows, your back almost fully touching the bed. Abby feels a little bad keeping you up, but she knows she’ll be tossing and turning all night if she has to wait until the morning to ask.

“The school meeting.”

“Oh,” you smile wide enough to look silly and beautiful, sweet enough to rot teeth. She feels like she could sink in it, your smile and the relief it brings to her well hidden nervousness. “I loved it so much, Abs.”

Abby is smooth when she walks closer, soft when she cups your cheek, but there's something anxious in her eyes if you know where to look. “Yeah?” she insists.

You nod your head and kiss the palm of her hand, your lips pressed together in that funny way of trying to hold back an excited giggle. Abby smiles and feels nostalgic for the time, many many months ago, when she’d bring a finger to her lips to shush you and then remind you in an expert whisper that Rue is sleeping in the other room. She doesn't have to teach you much at all anymore, and every moment that proves that to her feels like the most beautiful, unfamiliar peace.

“I’m so happy,” you announce, looking up at her. You’re tired enough that it feels almost like being drunk, which is maybe why a short giggle manages to escape. Abby finds it contagious, your joy moves through her as naturally and importantly as the pumping of her blood. “I’m so excited for all of it.”

It’s the second parents' meeting that you’ve attended at Rue’s school— but you spent that first one sitting quietly by her side, practically hiding behind her, too aware of yourself and of the fact that you don’t really know what you’re doing. “Nobody knows,” Abby confessed on your way home, a hand on the steering wheel and another over your leg, her fingers tapping a comforting rhythm. “Parenting is beautiful, it just comes a lot less naturally than you’d think. That thing about a biological, primal wisdom or whatever— it’s a nice concept. But the best things I know came from me actively trying.”

Her words echoed in your head when you said yes to attending this school meeting alone, when you smiled and made the effort to look as calm as you could, kissed her cheek and said “of course!”. Being Rue’s parent doesn’t always come naturally, but it comes from the most genuine love, every single time. Of course you can go to her meeting when Abby can’t reschedule work, because of course you want to know about how Rue is doing in school. It’s an honor to be there for her, to speak for her when you know she needs you to. This is you actively trying.

“How were the other parents?” Abby asks, lying on her side now, her finger tracing unreadable patterns on your cheek. She craves physical contact more than she’d like to admit— but it works great, because you never ask her to admit it if she doesn't want to. The pads of her fingers say enough.

“They were cool, they were all very sweet to me. Well, Leo’s mom is a little passive aggressive but she’s that way with everyone,” you comment through a yawn, the side of your face comfortably pressed against your pillow. Abby hums, agreeing. “Sophie’s mom was the nicest, she sat next to me and invited me to join her and Jade’s mom for brunch.”

“Which Sophie?”

“The one that gave Rue a Valentine’s gift, that milk chocolate that she loves.”

“Oh, I like that Sophie.”

“Me too. I think I wouldn't mind joining a weekly brunch cult with her mom.”

Abby laughs in the way that she only does when she’s sleepy, where she sounds almost like her teenage self, shy and sweet. By the time it dies down, you’re almost asleep. But then, softly enough that you almost don’t hear it, she asks, “How do you think you would feel if she called you that?”

You make a questioning little sound that sounds like "what?" but not quite.

“If Rue called you mom.”

Your eyes open in a second, though not without effort. You look at Abby’s face, her pretty, relaxed features, and answer honestly. “I would probably cry. And then kiss her cheeks for as long as she let me.”

Abby chuckles. “Like when she fell off the swing and got the tiniest scratch on her knee?”

“Yeah, just— the joyful version of that, I guess. They would be the happiest tears ever spilled,” you explain, so sincere that Abby almost tells you. And you know her enough to read it on her face, the way she barely parted her lips and then pressed them back together quickly. Your head lifts from the pillow. “Wait, why? She told you something? Did she ask about that?”

Abby is great at keeping it cool, but less so once she’s been caught. Her nervous chuckle says it all. “I…”

“Abby, I swear to god, I will not let you sleep until you tell me.”

She more than believes you, but a flash memory of her pinky finger wrapped around Rue’s holds her back from spilling any more details. “Sorry, baby, I’m not allowed to say.”

“Oh my god,” you drop back onto your pillow, this time lying flat on your back. “You think she’s gonna say it?” you ask, and Abby is unsure if you’re asking her or the ceiling or a godly presence way above it. Or yourself, most likely. “It’s okay if she doesn't, maybe she was just curious. Maybe she needs time. I mean, obviously. She probably won’t say it, like, tomorrow, right?” you turn your head and look at her, so wrapped up in your inner monologue that you don’t process the amusement and adoration that’s all over your girlfriend’s face. “What if I react super weird and she doesn't say it again?”

Abby’s lips stretch into the softest smile, so in love that she almost forgets to answer and instead holds her hand on the back of your neck and pulls you close to press a kiss against your forehead. Your eyebrows are still furrowed worriedly when she pulls away, and she brushes her thumb over your cheek as she lets out the kindest hum, acknowledging your question. “You’re not gonna react weird, sweetheart.”

Momentarily flustered, you shake your head to remember the point that you’d been thinking about. “But I shouldn't cry, imagine how confusing that would be for her— what if she thinks she made me upset?”

“That won’t happen. She cried happy tears when you moved in, remember? She knows what they are,” she says. It’s one of the best memories you have, the nervous look on Abby’s face when she asked you, rambling, “It would be a big change, but not the worst, right? You’d just be a couple doors down the hall. It would be a lot of the same in a lot of ways, just with us.”

After that came the late nights at your apartment, dates hidden behind the excuse of packing, half empty boxes on the floor and Abby stuck to you like glue, a kiss or ten whenever she got too carried away with excitement. A couple weeks later came your clothes in her closet, your favorite blanket on the couch, and Rue’s eyes glimmering with happy tears as she hid her face on your neck and tried to understand her feelings. Then, after a few minutes of patiently rubbing her back, came her little frown of concentration and the way she attentively listened to you and Abby explain that her reaction was normal, that sometimes happiness feels like too much to hold in just a laugh or a dance. “Oh, okay,” she’d said, in this cute proud tone that she gets whenever she learns something new that makes sense to her. It was the sweetest thing. She’s the sweetest thing— and you can’t believe this is your life, that you get to take care of her and hang out and teach her new things to be proud of.

“You think she wants me to be her mom?”

Abby smiles. “You are her mom, baby.”

Rue doesn't say it the next day. You don’t overthink it— couldn't if you tried. It's a nice feeling to be so happy that you don't feel the need to think. She doesn't call you mom that morning, but she runs to the doorway where you’re putting on your shoes to get to work and wraps her arms so tight around your legs that you have to balance yourself with a hand against the wall. Her hair is messy from sleep, her yellow pajama shirt wrinkled, her eyes blinking lazily as she looks up at you and asks, “Back soon?”

“Soon as I can, princess,” you promise, leaning down to kiss her head. What is there to overthink? What more could you possibly need?

You can do this forever, have mornings like this and feel grateful in a way that you didn't know existed until now. You love the way it comes at random times, the way you’re still you, still grumpy when your coffee tastes watery, still a little bad at getting to the train station on time, still learning not to burn the first batch of pancakes. It’s a big change, but not the worst, right? It’s a lot of the same in a lot of ways, except Abby is there at the kitchen kissing your cheek, and a tiny head of blonde hair is peeking from the back of the couch, gummy smile and freckled cheeks, saying, “I like my pancakes like that, mom!”

Thinking about an argument scenario with abby, where you’re so fucking mad at her—but she just keeps trying to get you to fuck with her.

Of course—not an actual argument that would require a civilized or serious conversation, but more like a playful argument that you just happened to be way too invested in. (ex: an argument over what dip is better for chips, comparing you and hers favorite shows, etc. not actual serious stuff!) You could be furious out of your own mind—annoyed, aggravated, in the mood to throw a literal table at her, and all she would do is baby you.

You had been arguing about this for the past half hour, and she still had the audacity to sit here and smirk at you while she manspreaded on the couch. You were pacing around the room, rolling your eyes and trying to explain to her the problem at hand. “abby fucking anderson—just, god.” you said with the deepest sigh you’ve ever taken to put emphasis on how frustrated you really were. “Y’know what? We’ll just order doordash. God—you can’t fuckin’ take this seriously.”

Abby pouted with a laugh that sounded way too amused than it should’ve, which only made you even closer to actually throwing a table at her or something. She chuckles provokingly, “Aww, is my baby upset? does she just need a good fuck to keep her back in her place?” She said in such a way that bothered you way too much than it should have. You rolled your eyes and practically yelped, “abby—my fucking god.”

She looked at you teasingly with a cheeky smile on her face, “Yes pretty girl?”

You sighed, “Just—just be quiet. For gods sake.”

-

Next thing you know, you’re crumbling before her eyes as you bounced up and down on her 7 inch strap, the tip of it reaching the rim of your cervix.

She keeps her hands on your waist, being sure to give you enough support you need to ride her properly—but being sure to still also give you a little bit of a hard time.

She said with a sly smile, “Fuck…This is all my baby needed? Was some good cock? Hm?” She paused to thrust up into you, causing you to whimper. “Some good dick to make her shut up? Realize her place, Yeah?”

You nodded weakly, depending on her for practically giving your limbs all the stability it needed—looking at her with fucked out eyes. “M-mhhmm…”

She made sure to make you say it—to say you lost with your own mouth. “Won’t talk back to me anymore, won’t you baby?”

You nodded obediently like you did the past hundred times shes made you cum, “mmm—mmhmmm….w-wont…t-talk…” you paused to catch your breath, “..b-back..”

She pulled you close to her with a satisfied smile, “Atta girl.”

She knew she could dumb you down, no matter what.

Like if she could break me it be a dream come true 💖💖

https://www.tumblr.com/svccubuss/738669179535835136/having-your-head-pushed-down-further-into-the Ok but this with Abby?!?!

[link to post] oh anon...... i want her to break me in half like a glowstick

18+ minors dni

abby is strong, she knows she is. having all that strength is great for her day to day life, of course. it's also great for when she needs to keep you in place and fuck you like you deserve.

"keep your fucking hips up," she huffs, shuffling forward on the bed so that your ass is squished up against her pelvis, no where to run. she's grinding against you, strap reaching the spot that always ends in the bed being soaked when you're both finished and utterly spent.

you're practically rendered speechless, mouth wide and eyes rolled to the back of your head as you take and take, take whatever she gives you.

you feel abby's hand leave your hip and press against the side of your head, smooshing your face against the duvet, wet from your spit, her spit and the tears you didn't even realise were leaking from the corners of your eyes. her other hand smooths its way from your right hip, travelling up your back and pressing down between your shoulder blades, trapping you in place.

she's relentless- pressing all of her weight down onto you as she fucks you, the slapping of your ass against her pelvis spurring her on as she watches you with heavy eyes- watches for any sign that you can't breathe or are uncomfortable but when you catch her gaze and smile lazily, lip caught between your bottom teeth, she knows you like it. like how much she could easily just break you if she wanted to.

no matter how much bigger or smaller you are she'll always be strong enough to fuck you just right, she'll always be your strong girl <3

mdni

“you gonna be my good girl?” abby whispers, her words raspy and low, her fingertips gently brushing down your sides before she grips at your hips and slowly sinks you down onto her strap.

you nod, wrapping your arms around her neck, your lips seeking out hers in a hungry kiss which leaves you moaning into her mouth as she finally bottoms out, all 7 inches of her cock buried deep within your needy cunt.

she pulls away from the kiss with a smug smile, trailing wet kisses and gentle bites along your jaw while she keeps you grounded with her rough hands still clinging to your hips which keep you from bouncing or grinding into her. “nuh uh. not yet, bunny.”

you whine impatiently, grabbing at her muscly forearms for her to loosen her grip a little and she reluctantly caves in a couple seconds later, instead using her hands to guide you as you start to bounce, strap hitting deeper each time she pulls you up and slams you back down, little gasps and whines of her name leaving your lips.

“there you go.” she mutters, moving her thumb to slowly rub at your clit as you start to bounce without any help from abby. the cocky grin on her face never leaving as she leans back against the pillows, her free arm moving to rest behind her head while her thumb circles your swollen clit. “mhm just like that…always my good girl.”

That’s my girl 💞💞

No thoughts just soccer player Abby.

soccer player!abby who beats her chest and goes ape-shit whenever she wins a game. who screams herself hoarse with adrenaline, excited eyes searching the crowd for you.

soccer player!abby who sprints at top speed when she finally finds you, wrapping you up in her arms and spinning you around like a rag doll.

soccer player!abby who plants wet kisses all over your face and ignores your protests and squirms, cringing from her sweatiness. a shit-eating grin plastered on her face because she knows from the way that you’re beaming that you’re so fucking proud for her.

soccer player!abby who takes a group photo with her teammates before tossing you over her shoulder to take a solo pic, her other arm flexed and her messy hair sticking to her forehead.

soccer player!abby who treats you like the real prize as soon as you both get home.

i want to bite her.

I want to be sandwiched between them so bad!!!!!

♡ྀི ༝ ₊˚ ⌒ now kith ꒱

꒰ ellie x reader x abby. everyone makes out. sexually charged but not actually that sexual? i think! enjoy <3 mdni.

imagine dating both ellie and abby…

they live for you…. cannot stand eachother. but for you they.. well, tolerate isn’t quite the right word, because they hardly do that, but they.. let you do what you want when it comes to being with both of them. they definitely don’t hold back on arguing and fighting though. you’re getting tired of not being able to actually be with them at once, and you have just the plan.

𝜗𝜚

“oh fuck no.” that’s ellie, who’s just walked in, coming over per your request. and she’s spotted abby, who has the nerve to be chilling on her girls couch. abby really doesn’t care all that much, but she’s giving as much as she’s getting. “can we help you?” that’s abby, giving ellie that look. the one you always giggle at, the same dirty look she would give gum at the bottom of her shoe. “babe!” and that’s you! you hurry to grab ellie’s hand before she turns around to make her way back to the door. you tug her closer and wrap your arms around her, chin against her chest, peering up at her with puppy eyes and pouting lips, really pulling out all of the stops. “stay! please?” ellie sighs, wrapping her long arms around you to return the hug. “babe.. you know we don’t get along. it would be better if-” “just sit down, williams” you could hear they eyeroll from abby. ellie quickly switches her gaze from your pouty lips to glare at abby. “don’t try to tell me what to do-” “els! please. she’s just saying she doesn’t mind. right abs?” you hurry to tug ellie over to the couch before either of them can respond, pushing her down and clambering on top of her. you shoot abby a greatful smile behind ellie’s head, holding back a giggle when she playfully roles her eyes. “come on els, please. i just wanna chill with both of you. is that so bad?” it’s said to make her feel bad, make her compliant. ellie doesn’t bother with a response, just letting out a heavy sigh and begrudgingly turning her head towards the tv. it’s a win in your book. you kiss her cheek with a smile and snuggle into her side.

you’re in the middle between the two, of course. you throw your fuzzy socked feet into abby’s lap, digging your toes into her side. she raises her eyebrows at you before clamping down on your ankles with a heavy grip. “no!” you squeal with a giggle, trying to squirm your feet away, already anticipating her tickling them. “no? that’s not what you wanted?” abby asks, mockingly confused. the fun is interrupted by ellie pouting. “can you guys like, not.” she’s deadpan, her gaze not even moving away from the tv that’s playing whatever netlfix show is trending. before abby can respond you nudge her with her foot, urging her to stay quite. she gives you her famous side eye but says nothing. you shift to bring your arms around ellies neck, settling into her lap with your legs around her waist. “els cmon, don’t be like that” you lean down to mumble into her neck, placing gentle kisses along the line of her throat. trailing over her collarbone. you knew she’d be the one you’d have to butter up. “what, im supposed to sit here and watch you guys play footsie?” she’s grumbling, but breathless, turning her head so you have more access to her neck. “you can play to, you know.” you gently nip her with those words, quickly soothing the bite with your tongue and lips. “nah, i’d rather just play with you.” she cups the back of your neck with long fingers, her multiple rings cool against the flush of your skin. tilting your head up she wastes no time into practically mauling you. her tongue slides into your mouth, dominating and hot and heavy. her other arm curls around your waist and tugs you even closer, rising her thigh to push firmly between your legs. at your soft moans she smugly looks up at abby behind lidded eyes. god,she’s so cocky and annoying. abby scoffs but doesn’t break eye contact, her cheeks warming at your soft sounds. when you break away, panting, ellie looks away. she’d much rather gaze at you, all flushed, lips swollen and wet. “fuck” you say, more of a breath than a word. “let’s.” ellie’s hands drift to the bottom of your shirt. “wait! lets go to my room.”

you have them sitting on the bed across from eachother with you making the point of the triangle. “you want us to.. what?” ellie, of course. she’s looking at you like you’re insane, she probably thinks you are. abby doesn’t look surprised, she’s probably not. her face doesn’t really give away anything, if not a little amused. “els bear, please. i hate when you guys fight. i want us to be able to be together, all three of us. this will help? just gotta get past that line?” oh your really pleading now, all soft and sweet and low. “don’t els bear me!” ellie’s whining. incredulous. “wha- did you guys like, plan this?” her brows are furrowed, voice high, looking back and forth between you and abby. “no. im just not a little crybaby like you are.” abby’s had enough, you guess. ellie scoffs and you know she’s about to start a argument for the ages, so you quickly reach out and put a hand on both of their thighs. “okay okay, im sorry els. of course if you don’t want to, you don’t have to. i won’t be upset at all. and that goes for abs to. i just think you guys have some… unresolved tension… and this would help with that.” “we do not!” ellie is still whining. you look up at abby, only to find her already looking right at you. you tilt your head, inquiring. her gaze flicks to the side, considering. you gently squeeze her thigh to get her attention back on you. you slowly move your hand a little higher. please. for me? you both knew she’d have to be the one to make the first move. and you’d definitely reward her for it. god, you’d do that anyways. she’s been so good, so sweet, in her own way. so compliant in your plans. fine. she moves her attention onto ellie.

“god, shut up williams. our girl is over there all flushed and excited just from the thought of us kissing. and you wouldn’t give her that? she’d do it for you.” abby’s tone is accusing, low and predatory. she knew just how to work ellie up. ellie splutters, eyes wide. “what?” she takes a second to really look at you. your breathing is fast, excited. you’re slightly sucking at your bottom lip, releasing it from your mouth with a pop at her stare. your thighs are clenched together, nipples prominent under your thin tank top. you smile encouragingly at ellie when she meets your eyes. “i.. that’s-” again, abby interrupts ellie. “she just wants to make you happy. make us happy. you don’t want to make her happy?” ellie scoffs, but she can feel her cheeks warming. ellie finds her eyes being drawn to abby’s full smirking lips, her stare just making abby even more cocky. ellie can feel her own nipples hardening and chooses to ignore abby’s gaze flicking down to the chest of her wife pleaser, for her own sanity. “fine.” els whispers, as if it would kill her to say it any louder. “nuh uh. need you to say it williams. tell us what you want. tell her.” abby gestures to you with her head, still leveling ellie with her heavy stare. “yeah, baby?” you prompt ellie, smiling. “i… fuck. i want abby to kiss me. n want you to watch.” abby wastes no time. they were already so close. she winds her hand into the hair at the base of ellie’s neck, hard, directing her. ellie hardly gets to digest what just happened before abby’s mouth is on her own. fuck, she kisses like she’s hungry for it. starving. abby licks into ellie’s mouth, demanding her way in. ellie moans, real quite, clenching abby’s shirt in her fist. they battle for dominance, er.. well, ellie tries? you think? but she’s not winning. fuck. it’s so hot. abby is devouring her, putting on a show, all for you. so sloppy and wet.. you’re left panting at the mere sight of them. finally, ellie jolts when abby sucks on her tongue, eyelashes fluttering, before she pushes her away roughly and backs up even more, just to be safe. both of them are flushed, breathing heavily, lips swollen and wet. abby sucks her bottom lip into her mouth and gives ellie a final slow once over before patting her lap, turning her attention towards you.

you shuffle over to her and settle on of her thighs between yours, squirming around already, kissing at her neck. “god abby that was so so, so.. fuck. i love you guys. ellie?” you sounded so wrecked, as if you were the one being ravaged instead of simply watching. you’re so whiney and needy, reaching back for ellie without looking. abby gives a ellie a “what the fuck are you waiting for?” look from over your shoulder. ellie hurries, coming to kneel behind you, one arm wrapping around your waist and the other sliding under your tank top and up to gently palm at your breast. “you did so good ellie, so so good. i need you now, please?” you turn your neck to be able to reach her mouth, still warm and swollen from abby. you whimper at the thought. “i know baby. that’s our sweet girl. just wants everyone to feel good, yeah? don’t worry, we’ll make it better.” you pant against ellie’s mouth, abby’s voice low in your ear. her strong hands cupping your waist to control your movements on her thigh. yeah. you’re a genius.

am i weird for thinking nerdy loser!abby may have a breeding kink?

you’re not weird. It would fr be like an achievement-unlocked moment for her i apologise for this mess

She’s so into it. Her shaky hands are slowly running up and down your stomach, stopping at certain ridges to trace them with her fingers, whispering under her breath how beautiful you are, completely forgetting that she’s got her strap so deep in your cunt as she admires you. She knows she can’t feel it but there are moments where she is so sure she can feel how your walls clench around the silicone, how your cunt practically sucks her back in when she moves to pull out.  

How is she supposed to act sane when you’ve got your hands on her shoulders, you’re whimpering utter nonsense into her neck, and pleading her for more with such a broken voice that she’s glad her head is so close to your mouth or she would have missed it completely.

The pace of her movements is more brutal now than when she had your face down on the pillows, hands gripping the sheets, and tears running down your face. She’s everywhere. Her hips are hitting the plush of your ass with such force, meanwhile, she’s got one hand gripping your hip and the other is between your legs, rubbing tight circles on your clit relentlessly. Abby is like a woman starved, the first time she ever made you cum, she wanted to do it over and over. She loved the look on your face, the way your eyes rolled back, the way your legs twitched around her head and the pretty sounds you let out.

Loose strands of blonde hair fall over her shoulder and lightly tickle your back as she digs her blunt finger nails into your skin, and she can’t help herself as her head drops and she’s just watching the way the silicone moves in and out of you. Her face flushes at the sight of you cunt, her forehead sticky with sweat but nothing can force her to take her eyes of you.

“Abs s’too much!” you whimper into the pillows, your hands coming up quickly to hold onto the arm she had on your hip. “oh— Abby please”

“You can take it baby, please, for me— shit”

Abby is always gentle— soft with you even, making sure she’s not holding you too hard, that you’re not in any uncomfortable position, and that you’re okay all of the time but hearing the squelching sound of your cunt and the way your walls flutter around her strap is sending her brain into overdrive. And just watching the way you’re taking her strap so perfectly has her losing her mind and she’s barely able to hold back anymore.

“Pussy’s mine yeah? gonna let me fill you up and make you a mama? fuck— need to fill up your pretty pussy, baby. You’d make such a pretty mama. Need it so bad, will you let me, please baby?”

I don’t know who needs to hear and understand this but your favorite anime characters eat black women ass DAILY. Matter of fact, I’ll even take it a step further and say they love black women so much— just as much as any other women.

Since people hate when black women write about their favorite anime characters loving them😑

if you were to ask abby how she feels about chubby women, she’d let the biggest-nastiest-shit eating grin break out across her freckled face. chubby girls? the soft girls? the girls who look away in shyness when you compliment them? the girls who squeal in excitement when you can actually lift them up? who feel like heaven itself when you bring them down onto your lap? those girls?

yeah, abby would tell you that she loves bigger girls. loves being able to handle them, become not many have the pleasure of being able to. she could just... eat them whole.

i CANNOT stress this enough, but if you prioritize literal FICTIONAL CHARACTERS over a GENOCIDE—you need mental fucking help. The people saying they “can’t” post about palestine due to the most MINUSCULE reasons like “oh i’m a small page!” Or “it doesn’t match my account aesthetic” needs a fucking lobotomy. There is a GENOCIDE going on in the world right now, and the least you could do is spend one—maybe two at most seconds reblogging a post to help spread awareness. now is not the time to be boosting smut fics about characters who dont fucking exist.

And for the people getting pressed about their tags getting flooded with posts about the palestine—like i said, there is a WAR going on. just take a second to use your fucking brain.

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WHY CANT I HAVE HER 😫😭

i feel like hate sex with abby in the rain would be the best, you're both drenched, and she'd absolutely destroy you without a second thought

MINORS DNI

Quick smutty Abby Anderson x fem!reader thought under the cut

I think Abby wouldn’t be too insane with sex positions—like yeah she’s twisting you up every which way whatever—but I think she gets the idea one day to just put you up on her shoulders, pussy to her face and go to town. Obviously you’re not against it and she’s only human so she sort of has you up against the wall as she’s doing it, as a sort of support I guess, tongue deep inside you with her hands under your ass to keep you nice and close while she’s down there. Your head is knocking against the ceiling and you can’t look down cause the floor looks really far from up there so when she’s got you cumming on her tongue your squeezing your thighs as tight as you can around her head making sure you don’t fall—which of course she’d never let happen but she’s not complaining either way.

600 reblogs? Wait guys keep going I’m close

MINORS DNI

NOTES: I’m wine drunk. Very drunk. That’s my explanation. So unabashedly horny they need to lock me away. Anyway I want to fuck Abby

WARNINGS: fem!reader (no pronouns, but reader has a vagina), sex (oh no), strap usage(not explicitly mentioned but we assume), Abby tops, a little dirty talk, she’s folding you up (hold ur flexible), rough sex yum

It’s so painful it’s good. Abby, fucking you, hands pressed to the backs of your thighs. Your ankles dangle on each side of her face, bobbing pathetically with each sheathe of her relentless thrusts. “Fuck, baby,” she gasps, like she can fucking feel it, each push into your tight cunt, she moans pathetically. The plastic shoves in and out of you, puncturing deep against your cervix, “Gripping me so tight, god, feel how deep I am?”

Of course you fucking do, it’s all you feel. The sweet painful nudge every time she pushes in, the way her fingers pinch against your clit like a toy that she abuses relentlessly. You sound obscene, your words don’t even sound like words, just mewls and drawled fucked out sounds that drive her deeper inside, eager to push them out.

“God, such a pretty pussy, sounds so sweet for me, doesn’t she?” She asks, you can’t answer, cause every thought is pushed out of your brain with every punishing nudge of her hips, arms hooked under your knees just to get you to make those little squeaking noises. She pushes over you then, legs folded against your tits, knees pressed to your chest, lips hovering yours but never giving in to the kiss you beg for. “Yeah, I know baby, I know, just need you to hear you cum—can you do that for me?”

As if you could hold it back. It builds inside like a fucking bomb, the tension building and building. You’re clawing at her shoulders, crying into her chest, mouthing her tits as the tension snaps—aching to taste her. You lick up her throat, hands palming her broad muscles, legs shaking up by her ears, crying out with every jolt of stimulation her stalling thrusts bring.

MINORS DNI

NOTES: I’m wine drunk. Very drunk. That’s my explanation. So unabashedly horny they need to lock me away. Anyway I want to fuck Abby

WARNINGS: fem!reader (no pronouns, but reader has a vagina), sex (oh no), strap usage(not explicitly mentioned but we assume), Abby tops, a little dirty talk, she’s folding you up (hold ur flexible), rough sex yum

It’s so painful it’s good. Abby, fucking you, hands pressed to the backs of your thighs. Your ankles dangle on each side of her face, bobbing pathetically with each sheathe of her relentless thrusts. “Fuck, baby,” she gasps, like she can fucking feel it, each push into your tight cunt, she moans pathetically. The plastic shoves in and out of you, puncturing deep against your cervix, “Gripping me so tight, god, feel how deep I am?”

Of course you fucking do, it’s all you feel. The sweet painful nudge every time she pushes in, the way her fingers pinch against your clit like a toy that she abuses relentlessly. You sound obscene, your words don’t even sound like words, just mewls and drawled fucked out sounds that drive her deeper inside, eager to push them out.

“God, such a pretty pussy, sounds so sweet for me, doesn’t she?” She asks, you can’t answer, cause every thought is pushed out of your brain with every punishing nudge of her hips, arms hooked under your knees just to get you to make those little squeaking noises. She pushes over you then, legs folded against your tits, knees pressed to your chest, lips hovering yours but never giving in to the kiss you beg for. “Yeah, I know baby, I know, just need you to hear you cum—can you do that for me?”

As if you could hold it back. It builds inside like a fucking bomb, the tension building and building. You’re clawing at her shoulders, crying into her chest, mouthing her tits as the tension snaps—aching to taste her. You lick up her throat, hands palming her broad muscles, legs shaking up by her ears, crying out with every jolt of stimulation her stalling thrusts bring.

oh my god

rainy nights

slow to rough missionary with abby anderson!!

┊͙ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ content: nsfw!! super needy femme reader :3 straight up lesbian strap sex LOLZ

used; “mommy”, strap referred to dick/cock, hair pulling, asphyxiation!!!!

authors note: this is my first fic…don’t hurt em now🤰🎀!!

(this is a lil long, sorry chat.. i like a shit ton of foreplay but it’s abby foreplay so come on now!!!)

the rain crashing outside. comforting thunder. blinking awkwardly, you watch abby’s sleeping face. quietly, your hand is resting between your own plump thighs. you squirm, biting your lip, thinking of her fucking you so good to sleep.

you’ve been teasing yourself by tracing the elastic of your panties for the last five minutes.

your doe eyes trail to abby's sweet lips, her gentle breathing practically enough to get you soaked.

the way the blanket is hugging the two of you feels different now. so nicely against your skin, overloading your senses, dangerously turning you on by the second. you can feel your own face burning, my god, being able to feel your growing heat, the aching need.

your eyes slowly fall to abby’s chest as it rises and falls, her tits gently yet so roughly pressed against the fabric of her grey tank-top. you bite your lip discreetly, realizing your hands are begging to touch them. you want to. you need to. you sigh tiredly, glancing up at abby’s peaceful resting eyes.

finally gaining the courage, your soft hand brushes against her bicep gingerly, “abby,” you whisper gently, “abby, abs.” your comforting voice made her slowly writhe.

noticing it wasn’t a dream, her gorgeous blue eyes slowly part, taking in your delicate features,

“hmm…" she groans roughly, swallowing, "what is it, baby?”

her voice hoarse from sleep stirs the warmth between your legs.

shit, the simplest things she does makes your poor thighs part.

attempting to reply, you feel your voice hitch. stuttering from how damn hot her voice simply sounds. "baby..." you start, cheeks rosy with sweet lust,

"uhm, I.." your breathing becomes uneven.

anxiously, you lean forward into her arms with a little sigh. you groan and nuzzle your nose against her chest.

"what's wrong, baby?"

her voice. you can feel your dampness.

fuck.

you can feel the way your panties are sticking to you from how motherfucking wet you are.

fucking shit.

the stupid realization hits you suddenly. you waking up your girlfriend simply because you were just so fucking horny. so fucking desperate, was so humiliating.

"hmm? answer me." her voice was so sexy yet gentle. the smell of her musk and breath almost clicked something primal in you. my fucking god. you need it, you didn't care, shit. “use your words, mama.” she sighs, slightly annoyed with a growing smirk,“speak or i’m gonna go back to sleep.” that familiar cocky smile appeared on her face. god. your chest tightens as you think.

imagining how she spreads you wide, holding your thighs down, so effortlessly stretching you out, her amazing slow strokes…strapping you so good, so late…

she’ll figure what you want. abby always does.

she waits for your answer. but you don’t give a single fuck anymore about being verbal. you begin kissing her nearest skin. the familiarity of her warm silk chiffon skin against your lips makes you throb.

as you plant harsher kisses, abby raises an eyebrow. her smirk playful. she can feel how the kisses are not innocent. they feel greedy.

she knows why you woke her up.

marking her skin, you nip at her throat as you trail up…your hands gripping her waist. the crisp sounds of your lips leave behind spit, drying cool in the showering night. abby moves her head back softly, giving you more access. she lets out low gentle groans that are oh-so delicious to your ear. you make your way to below her ear, the most sensitive spot. you swirl your tongue, savoring the sweetness of her skin. you moan gently, getting more aroused by the fucking second. with a small smile, you seductively groan in her ear, “abby, can you fuck me? been thinking about you dicking me down alllllll night.” you tease, nipping her ear.

your voice was so alluring and the moment she heard those words… abby, herself, felt her own warmth grow. “mmm…i can make that happen.” her voice was no longer groggy but intrigued and sensual. abby kisses along your jaw, making you softly laugh, feeling so fucking elated her lips are finally on you. her hands drag down to your waist, gripping the flesh.

you stop kissing her, allowing your head to fall back as she takes the lead down your neck, slowly pulling you on top of her. you whine softly, letting your hands crawl mischievously into abby’s tank-top, gripping her tits. your hands were cold and you can tell she immediately noticed from her sudden charming chuckle. fucking hell…her throaty laugh makes you wetter.

you continue nipping her neck as she’s going further down your neck, pulling at your shirt to kiss the softness hidden under your clothed collarbone. the feeling of her kisses are too fucking incredible and get weaker by the second. whining softly, you simply watch her sexy face as she passionately kisses your neck and my god. abby’s pretty eyelashes and nose made you want more. your hands move themselves, directing abby’s face towards yours now with rough eagerness. your hungry lips clasp hers in seconds. she moans roughly into your mouth, her tongue immediately plunging in, dominating the kiss. the soft wet sounds are porno-worthy. your lips are so locked together like there’s no fucking tomorrow. you grind on abby’s thick thigh in time with her tongue, hips moving gently..

attempting to keep up with the steamy kiss as it becomes more heated you can feel her lust radiating from her skin, “i was having a wet dream when you woke me up.” abby confessed, nipping at your bottom lip, her hands groping your ass harshly now. you eagerly reply with a teasing smile, “was it like this?” your hands tug at her shirt, almost completely pushing up her tanktop. sadly, her strong hands grip yours immediately, “not so fast, princess.” she tsks, turning her head with disapproval. “it was more like this.”

abby’s smile turns devilish as she pushes up your shirt. you give in instantly, even helping pull it over your head. the coldness gives you goosebumps which somehow turns you on even further. abby gropes your hard nipples as you eagerly pull her back into a rough kiss, “and what else, baby?” you question with a sultry tone against her lips once more, grinding in a hypnotizing way. you softly shake as you can feel your wetness finally seeping through.

“that.” her thumb moves to the waistband of your shorts, immediately slipping in at your hip. “i’m gonna dick you down so raw and so good, you want that baby?” she grunts into the kiss as she flips you over, her huge body hovering over you. she pulls her shirt quickly over her head, wanting, no, craving your tits against hers. abby’s strong nose brushes against your cheek as she adjusts, holding your hips nicely as she grinds against you. you beam widely, nodding with fervent. “fuck, abs…” you slowly lick her jawline as she roughly gives you a fucking hickey. the pain felt so damn amazing. you grip her waist tightly, holding her close. your cheeks glow redder as you look down to see your body caged between her sweet thighs. abby finally unwraps her lips from your throat, “all your little friends will see that.” she cheekily smiles with lust, continuing her kisses. the passion does not cease for one second as she trails down your throat. the marks finally stutter at your chest as she takes one of your tits into her mouth. abby’s mouth is so fucking hot and sticky, the feeling makes you shiver. you watch in awe as your engorged nipple softens as she wraps her tongue around it. the erotic popping sound as she moves to the other tit makes you moan harshly. god.

you impatiently find your hands moving to abby’s sweats, pulling them down hastily… and motherfucking god, she fucking helps. looking so good with a fucking titty still in her mouth, shimming down her pants. “fuck..” you exhale with a pretty smile, hands probing her shoulders as you admire her freckled skin.

abby’s sexy body, now perfectly in her boy shorts, immediately locks her lips onto your stomach. finally taking it to the next level.

you bite your lip with excitement as you watch abby’s face glow with determination and it’s the sexiest thing ever.

she kisses your stomach gently, savoring you, almost redeeming her previous roughness. she holds the waistband of your shorts, voice gentle, “up, baby.” and like an obedient dog, you raise your fucking hips instantly. “atta girl.” she praises softly with a cocky grin, her thick fingers slowly pull down your shorts and panties, the wet spot shamefully visible. “someone’s excited.” her voice low as she watches a string of your wetness cling to your panties, “my god, baby. you want it hard and deep, huh?” abby bites her lip with an impatient smile. her eyes latch onto your sopping wet clit. “open the nightstand drawer and hand me the harness,” she sighs with a sexy smile, “and fuck, no lube.”

her teasing eyes follow you completely as you grab everything near you, fuck, you had it so accessible because you never know when you’d both have fun. abby’s eyes widen with greed as she finally holds the harness, leaning off the bed. now standing, her stature is pussy-quiver inducing… abby immediately pulls down her boy shorts, her eyes locking onto yours because she knows you live for her pussy. she steps into the harness, her sexy dirty blonde bush making your heart skip a beat. fucking hell, you blush a deep scarlet red. “ready for mommy to fuck you up?” she grins cheekily, a glint of wickedness in her eyes. abs knows how much you love this shit.

“which strap?” abby gently questions, eyes almost soft. she pulls you closer to the corner of the bed by your ankles. you stare up at her, beautiful and eager smile on display, hair sprawled on the bed, “you pick.” she smiles sweetly with a playful nod… and for an instant, you truly realize how her frame is so fucking sexy above you like this…her tits, her shoulders, my god. fuck. “okay, baby.” abby walks to the closet you shared, grabbing your soon to be toy.

you lay there, eyes closed, arm over your face. you prepare yourself because you know. you fucking know her sweetness is always an act in the beginning. you smile to yourself, your cheeks all cozy and red. fuck.

“don’t blame me if you’re in pain tomorrow because you let me pick!” she chuckles grimly as she walks back over, dick in hand. you gleam with excitement because she picked your favorite one, shit, it was the pink, glittery, long and thick one. the girth was no joke. her sexy gaze lingered on your oozing cunt as she attached it. your eyes are fixed on her abs, smiling with anticipation as your fingers lingered to your clit. rubbing gentle circles, the wetness coats your fingers completely, “fuck, i’m so ready.” you giggle sweetly, bringing your fingers to your lips, licking it completely clean.

“you better make this good…” you tease watching abby who’s tilting her head with a cute blush. abby quickly moves between your thighs, wasting no time. grinning from ear to ear, that familiar sexy grin looks down at you as she takes the strap in hand, stroking it as if it were real. she moves it along your slit so gently, ever so gently, teasing the fuck out of you. she circles the tip on your clit, “deep breathes, okay?” her hand moves to grope your boob kindly, watching your eyes. abby pushes forward slowly, the tip slipping in easier than expected.

your eyes remain on abby’s, completely trusting her. and my god, you almost fucking go cross eyed from how good the tip felt. you bite your bottom lip, watching her gently bottom you out. her hips moving slowly in, finally reaching the hilt. she allows you to adjust with a concentrated gaze as your mouth gapes. your eyes drop to the strap buried inside you. fuck.. abby looks at you for approval, a softness to her face and you nod with a half-lidded groan. “shit..” you manage to squeak out as abby begins to move.

her hips slowly draw out slow strokes. slowwwww, slowww, ones. you wince at how fucking good it felt. in and out,,, in and out… your breath hitches as she begins to take it up a notch. she picks up the speed slightly, alongside increasing the depth. her hips snap harsher into yours, causing to let your head fall back. “fuck, abby.” you whine, shutting your eyes, focusing on the warm feeling.

“eyes on me, on me baby.” her hips slow, “or i’ll stop.” your chest tightens as the pace almost comes to a full stop, making you immediately obey. you open your pretty little eyes lazily, “there we go.” suddenly, her movements become rougher and deeper with a new vigor. you cry out, with a loud moan, “oh shit-!” the pace starts becoming consistent, rhythmic, causing that familiar rising heat in your stomach. you groan deeply. “my god..” you pant as she grips your thighs, holding you open. her gorgeous grin appears on her face, “is it good, baby?” she teases, purposely heightening her speed even more. abby’s cock is buried to the fucking hilt, slamming in and out steadily and she expects you to speak? each plap earns a sound from you. “i-uh, uh, uh…uh what, sweetheart?” she smiles devilishly, biting her lip with concentration as she plasters your thighs down so fucking roughly against the bed, spreading you out so wide. your tits bounce and my god, she can’t take her eyes off them. “you’re taking my dick so well.”

she coos, “tell mommy how good it feels.”

you groan with heavier pants from deep within your chest, sounding almost desperate for more, “so-so, fucking good-mommy.” you whimper with high whines, your breath being knocked out of you with each thrust. “and who’s fucking pussy is this?” she teases with a sexy smile, “m-mommy’s.” you groan out, gripping the sheets.

“uh-huh.” abby loves this, every bit of this. throwing your head back once more gets on her fucking nerves. her hand moves up to your throat and the other to the top of your hair, your hairline, gripping a handful of your hair, forcing you to look down at the strap slamming in and out of your gripping pussy. you cry out with choked cries, face contorting into what looks like pain, but you love how rough she is. you almost can’t take how perfect it is. her cocky grin watches as your tits flop with each fucking thrust. each one hitting your cervix. and fuck, she’s deep deep. staying deep within but hitting the same spot over and over.

“mommy…” you choke out, your voice almost a sob, “right there.” her pretty eyebrows of concentration, furrow, gripping your hair and throat tighter, hips relentlessly picking up the pace once more. her sexy body is driving you fucking crazy… abby knows you can’t take much more. but…she knows what’ll push you off the edge.

“baby, rub it.” she smiles handsomely, noticing your hand on your stomach, “rub your fucking clit.” she demands, her voice almost a growl, “now.”

your hand moves weakly to your clit, abby’s arms almost in the way. she commands, “circles. small circles.” your ring finger moves gently but with enough pressure changes the whole experience. her pace suddenly becomes overwhelming with the extra stimulation. “fuck-!” you cry out, shutting your eyes and panting desperately. her hand grips you throat rougher and your hair tighter, adding more pain. you beg like a fucking bitch in heat, over and over, as if your life depended on it, “right there, mommy, right there, right there, please, please-!”

abby pounds into you, the lewd sounds of your tight pussy fill the room. my god, you unravel into a fucking mess. eyes rolling back, tongue sliding out, begging for it, all of it. your vision grows fuzzy, “i’m-cumming-!” you squeak out so desperately, so fucking desperately.

however, her pace does not stop. her mocking ass rides out your orgasm, making you whimper with overstimulated moans, “ah-ah…there…it’s okay…” she comforts sweetly, teasing you with a fake smile. releasing her grip on your hair and throat… she holds your hips slowly, caressing them up and down, “mama, it’s okayyy…” moving forward, her hand holds your face gently as she slows her pace finally. she holds your thighs, gripping the flesh, pumping deep and slow. you breath heavy, whimpering because, fucking god, you were still seeing stars.

“was that good or was that good?” she grins confidently, huffing and puffing. her once rough hands, now gently fixing your messy hair stuck to your forehead. beads of sweat drip down abby’s neck which somehow make her so much fucking hotter. her effort… her hips now at a complete stop, letting you both finally catch your breaths. the room smells of lesbian sex.

“fuck you abby.” you sigh with a content smile, panting. your dewy afterglow makes your face gleam so sweetly.

“i fucked you and you loved it.” she charmingly giggles, her sweaty face still as beautiful as ever. abby leans down to hug you, pecking your cheek and your jaw, sweaty bodies mingling. her eager hands slip down the harness quickly, allowing it to plop where ever. she quickly moves to lay on top of you.

“glad you woke me up.” abby groans tiredly, cheek pressed against yours. her musk makes you feel complete.

“me too, you pretty baby.” you laugh, kissing her nose. your face rosey and relieved, the rain continues to pour… soothing the two of you to sleep.

CRYINGGG UGHHH SORRY THIS WAS SO LONGG i made this like at 4am but like i loved writing it tho🎀 damn waittt this got me yearning for her LMAOSJJDKW

christ.

"what's wrong baby? you getting tired?"

you've been on top of her for what felt like ages, bouncing up and down on her heavily ribbed cock until you felt numb. although it wasn't her longest strap, it was her thickest one, and the girth alone made symphonies escape from your throat. you felt your eyes droop a little lower as you struggled to lift yourself up again, the burn I'm your thighs becoming too much.

poor thing, you were so put of it that you lost all sense of direction :(

"thoughts you wanted to go all "big girl" on me, hmm?" she dub her nails into your hips, leaving bloody indents as she began to do the work for you. "i want to be on top abby! how come you never let me ride abby?"

you tried to process her taunts, but god. she was so deep in your tummy that you saw a bump right below your belly button. "f-fuck ahh you."

"and you're incapable of doing that, clearly." you felt yourself begin to tear up, the twisted combination pleasure and teasing starting to fuck with your head. your palms were completely flattened against her chest as tears began to streak down your cheeks.

"awww, c'mere princess, c'mon." she beckoned you closer to her, wrapping both arms around your waist as she pulled you down to her, chest to chest. you winced at the feel of your swollen nipples brushing brushing against hers, but you felt your body relax as she cuddled you. gradually slowing her pace to a complete stop.

"abby's been so mean to you, huh? was i being mean?" her voice sounded like honey, the pure saccharine of it all clouding your senses. "mmhmmm", you whimpered into her neck, drool coating your cheeks as you continued to cockwarm her. she felt so good that she didn't even need to move to make you cum, and she was well aware.

"can i tell you a secret?"

"i'm about to get even meaner."

oh… my god???

downbad!abby who initially ran into you in your campus library. It was a rainy wednesday afternoon, the november chill leaving everyone bundled up in sweaters and beanies galore. her biochem professor cancelled class last minute, and what better way to celebrate than enjoying a cup of hot chocolate and a nice book?

you both happened to have stumbled upon the horror aisle, with you naturally finding your way there shortly after abby. she didn’t acknowledge you at first, so busy reading a blurb from some hardcover that she didn’t want to lose focus. it wasn’t until she heard the light jingle of the beads on the bottom of your braids that she thought to look up to investigate the sound. 

she nearly has a fucking heart attack when she sees you for the very first time. the way the dim lights shone on you, emphasizing your wonderfully brown skin. the way that even with your slouchy crochet sweater and baggy jeans, she could still see the light silhouette of your thighs and the side of your fat ass. the way that your fingers were stacked with rings and your perfectly lined eyeliner and your hair. your fucking hair. everything about you was a piece of art, and for a hot second, she was convinced that this was some hyper surreal fever dream. you couldn't possibly be real....right?

she only allowed herself a few seconds to be starstruck before snapping tf out of it and striking up a conversation. as entranced as she was, your campus was unfortunately quite large, and if it took this long into the school year for her to find you, who tf knows when she’ll see you again?

she was a mess, but a charming one, a confident one. and that intrigued you like nothing else. in fact, everything about her intrigued you. her confidence, the fact that she was built like a damn military tank with arms the sizes of cannons, the way her long blonde hair was pulled back into a neat french braid, with a few light strands framing her face in the most beautiful way. she was gorgeous and was talking to you out of all people.

as your eyes raked over her figure, gently smiling to yourself bc you clearly liked what you saw, abby knew that one way or another, tomorrow or 10 years from now, she was going to make you her fucking wife.

this bitch courts you for weeks. good morning texts, endless compliments, study sessions, cute little picnics at the park not too far from the dorms. she’s always one of the first to view your story or like your post, and will leave the cutest comments. you had been going through a relatively rough time lately, but you just seemed so hyper and chirpy that even your friends were wondering wtf was up.

to everyone else yall been together, but lesbians just move at a different pace 😜. your first official “date” ended up being an entire fucking day filled with activities, 100% curated by abby. a trip to a museum you told her you’d been meaning to check out, followed by lunch at this super cute cafe, followed by a pottery class, followed by a picnic/smoke sesh that had you both giggling at absolutely nothing for hours. she has proven again and again that she’s more than willing to go above and beyond for you, and it made your heart swell with so much love that it felt like it was going to burst. so naturally, when she finally popped the question (officially asked you to be her gf), you couldn't say yes fast enough. literally. you didn’t even let her finish her sentence.

and that's exactly how you got here, pinned underneath abby on her bed.

"you have no idea how long i’ve been waiting for this. knew from the first day i saw you that i was gonna make you crave this dick. took all my strength not to take you in that damn library bunny". 

she fucked you with a ferocity that under different circumstances would’ve scared you, your knees next to your ears as you watched her fat dick slide out of you repeatedly. it was heavy, filling your cunt to the brim as it struggled to accommodate her length, the light imprint of her hard work showing via a little bump under your belly button.

it took almost 2 hours of foreplay and a lot of lube, but she was eventually able to work all 9 inches into you, and it was making your head fucking spin.

“how do you feel mama? feel full, hmm? am i hitting that spot right?” you would’ve answered her, if your brain and ears were cooperating at the same time. her words oozed through one ear and out of the other, her voice syrupy and so so sweet. the room smelled like nothing but sex, the sound of skin slapping against each other and your desperate cries the only sounds to be heard. outside of the dirty talk, not a peep came from abby, she was so focused on being in your tummy that she borderline forgot how to moan :(

“i-i”. even speaking proved to be a struggle. your nails were digging bloody crescents into her wide shoulders, looking an absolute mess. rivers of salty tears were streaming down your cheeks, snot building as drool leaked from your open mouth. it was embarrassing, honestly. humiliating even. but abby was looking down at you with nothing but pride and adoration in her eyes. to her, you looked just as beautiful as ever, well loved, well fucked. what else can a simple gal like her ask for?

“you-you.” she mocked, slowing her thrusts and allowing you a brief second to collect your thoughts. “what do you wanna say baby? tell abby alllll about it, yeah?” she wiped some of the tears that continued to seep out of your eyes and pushed the few miscellaneous braids that found their way in front of you back behind your head, those damn beads still jingling.

“i think i love you.”

and with that, abby’s face lit up like a kid on christmas day. “yeah? you think you love me?” she wrapped your legs around her waist and slightly hitched you up, returning to her original pace of impaling you on her strap. “well i think i love you” she bumped her nose against yours, bringing your lips into a kiss so deep that it pushed you even further into that blissful subspace.

“now show me how much this pussy loves me, and cum”.

JUMPING FOR JOY WITH ACTUAL TEARS IN MY EYES I LOVE AUTISTIC REPRESENTATION IN X READERS ))): and with abby too????? a billion more please :,)

free palestine! click this link for more info + dono links (if you have links to any other gfms/resources pls send them to me so i can update the list!)

hello hello i am here with some abby x autistic! reader content bc i know i cant be the only autistic person obsessed with her. yes this is completely self indulgent.

i kinda just threw words on the page, but i hope someone out there will enjoy :)

it takes ages for you and abby to actually get together because you were entirely oblivious to her advances. during breakfast you had spent a solid thirty minutes talking about the different wildflowers that grew in north america and their significance in literature. abby thought your passion for the subject was sweet so while on patrol she picked some flowers that kind of looked like the ones in the pictures you showed her. when she presented them to you, your squeals of joy made her entire face light up. 

“ah, thank you!”

you think nothing of it, assuming she was just being nice. you always assume she’s just being nice. so when you accidentally end up on a moonlit picnic date with her and she asks to kiss you, your eyebrows raise in confusion. 

abby looks mortified “oh god, did i make things weird? i’m sorry.”

“no, no!” you reassure her. “i just…didn’t know this was a date.”

she could throw up on the spot. had she misread the situation? sure she never said the word “date”, but she told you that she wanted to spend some time alone with you. she brought you flowers, wine (if you could even call it that) that owen had been fermenting, and you two had been cuddling under the stars for the better part of an hour. 

“you can kiss me.” your fingers fiddled with the stitching of the blanket beneath the two of you. “i would like that, actually.” 

when you start dating you apologize profusely about all of your sensory quirks. you didn’t want to cuddle after she washed her hair because you hated the feeling of her wet hair on your skin. she kept separate blankets for you because you didn’t like the texture of the fabric on hers. 

you nearly cried after the only time you snapped at her. someone was playing music in the mess hall, everyone was talking over each other, the smell and texture of the mushy broccoli was overwhelming, and abby was asking too many questions about your assignments for the day. 

“please just be quiet for a second!” your tone had been a little sharper than you intended. abby looked hurt until tears welled in your eyes and you apologized over and over. you talked it over after dinner and obviously abby wasn’t mad at you (not that she ever could be). 

after that, whenever she would play music she always made a point to ask 

“is that too loud?”

and you absolutely hated patrol. all the yelling, the occasional gunfire, that god awful clicking. it was an overstimulating nightmare. abby often picked up your shifts whenever she could to save you the misery of leaving base. on the off chance that she couldn’t, she would always make sure a few pairs of ear plugs were in your bag.

you fight the need to vocal stim around people who aren’t her. it was a weight off your shoulders when you finally felt brave enough to explain it to her. at first, she just ignored them, growing accustomed to the empty noise. one day, when you’re softly meowing on repeat, she decided to join in. the two of you would meow back and forth until you erupted into giggles.

abby never made you feel weird about anything. sure, she had questions, but never in an invasive way. she just wanted to cater to and accommodate you as best she could. all because she loves you. 

i may write more of this if people like it? i have a plethora of experiences to draw inspo from lmao

crying and throwing up /pos

first kiss with abby ୨ৎ

summary: after the romantic tension between you and abby reaches a peak, you two finally share a sweet kiss.

content: answer to this req and part two to this!! fluffyfluffyfluffy! ehehehehehe. i love fluff i love writing fluff. nothing nsfw. just lowk domesticity with abby and then super cutesy pie origami stuff and then a kiss 💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋 ok toodles enjoy

notes: three weeks of no post i’m sorry my children. i am back!!! classes just finished and now i have summer break so i just had to soak in my freedom from my fuckass med teacher. he can choke fr 💯

(wc 1.6k)

a series of vibrations from your phone rudely pulls you out of your sleep and you swipe your hand across the bed to silence the notifications. you find your phone connected to abby's charger on her vacant side of the bed, the sheets cold without the warmth from her skin to heat them up. she always ran hot—especially during the night—which usually resulted in her yelping at your cold feet pressed to her thighs and trying to absorb her warmth in the hours of the night. 

you raise your phone to your face and are met with four notifications from abby on your home screen. 

abby :p otw back with our loot  

abby :p two berry pastries for the missus and one cream cheese puff pastry for me 

abby :p and nadia gave us two chocolate croissants bc we're super cool 

swiping to unlock your phone, you head to messages and reply to her. 

you YAY thanks you're the best 

you we gotta get nadia a gift card or somethin

you or a bottle of liquor 

you head to the bathroom to brush your teeth with your toothbrush abby got for you for her apartment since you slept over so often. while you load your brush with toothpaste, your phone lights up with a notice from messages: "abby :p loved 'or a bottle of liquor.' " sticking the toothbrush in your mouth, you smile around the minty foam and continue freshening up before abby returns. 

around ten minutes later, you hear the jingle of her keys at the front door and practically skip to the living room to retrieve your pastries. 

abby unlocks the door and pushes it open, a brown bag with a cafe logo printed on it in one hand and a drink carrier with two coffee cups hanging from her ring and pinky fingers in her other. with her few remaining fingers grasping onto her car keys to not drop them, she nudges the door back shut with her hip and locks it. 

her blonde head donns a blue and white trucker hat, the brim of it blocking her from seeing you standing and sheepishly smiling a few strides away. she calls out to you to signal her return. 

"hey, i'm back! and i come bearing gifts. i got-" it's then that abby takes her hat off and notices you inching ever closer. "oh, hi. i got you herbal tea. there weirdly was a lot of traffic today, even though it's, like, seven." 

she continues on as she unpacks everything that she got for you. "then again, i guess kids have school. man, i hated that about high school—waking up early and getting to class on tim- you know what? you're not listening anyway with your food right in front of you," she chuckles. "go on. release! free!" she pokes, using command words for a dog. 

you kiss your teeth and scowl at her, mumbling a "whatever" before tearing into the paper bag. you're met with your two fruit pastries first, then you spot the chocolate croissants abby mentioned under them. 

the two of you stand and eat in comfortable silence in the kitchen, you sipping on your tea and abby picking at her puff pastry. when you finish, you clean both of your spots and abby throws away the paper bag and pastry wrappers, washing her hands after.

after breakfast, you guys ping pong around her apartment, moving from her bed to the couch to the floor and then back to her bed again, all just to talk or scroll on your phones.

hours pass, and after a brief joint nap in her bedroom, you guys now sat on the floor of her living room, light filtering in from her large windows and warming your skin. the floor was littered in origami squares of all different sizes and colors, the origami book abby had gotten for you split open between you two. 

there was a village of origami figures surrounding you, from hearts to frogs to ladybugs to cranes. the book was flipped to a particularly challenging page of an elephant, and you looked over at abby in confusion. 

she was just as confused as you, if not more. her hair was tied in a messy golden knot at the nape of her neck, loose strands crazy and framing her face. her brows were pulled tight on her face, her eyes bewildered and looking at the same piece of paper in her hands as if she'd never seen it before. 

"what step are you on?" she asks, looking at the square in front of you that you were working on. 

"twelve. out of..." you flip the page twice. "god. thirty." you sit up straight to stretch your back out. "i get it, though. kinda." 

"what? show me. i’m on, like, seven. i swear they skipped a step. or forgot to add a picture. just something is wrong." 

you scoot over to sit next to her, pulling your leg to your body and propping your cheek on it. abby places her piece in front of you puts her hands in her crossed lap, her eyes wide and waiting for you to make sense of her issue. 

"okay, let's see." you pull the book closer to you to confirm the step she's on. "step seven is... rotating and folding the back of the elephant." 

"which i did," abby verifies. 

you rotate the piece and immediately find her mistake. "which you did not." 

"what?! where?" 

"here." you trace your finger along the missing crease. "you see how on mine, this part is creased and pointed? like a peak?" 

"uh-huh..." 

"and yours doesn't do that." 

she simply hums, so you look over at her to confirm that she's listening. her eyes are unfocused and locked on your face. they flit between your own and then drop to your lips for a second. the single second feels quite long, though, when she looks so deeply at you in the way that she does, or when her baby hairs draw attention to her blonde lashes, long and very slightly curled around her sapphire eyes. 

she seems to snap out it—whatever it was—and she deeply inhales, licking her lips and refocusing on the task at hand. 

"can you repeat that?" she asks. "sorry, i... i zoned out." 

it was your turn, now, to lose focus and examine her. you stare at her lips, rosy and still glossy from her just licking them. you stare at the corners of them and the ever so slight frown her mouth always pulls into when she's focused. you stare at the little creases in them, the dozens of lines that- 

"are you looking at my lips?" she questions, interrogative and almost paranoid. 

"oh, um, sorry. i was-" 

"why were you looking at them?" she interrupts again, her eyes wild and demanding an answer from you. 

"because, i- well, you just licked them, so- i don't know. because." you swallow, mumbling, "what, can i not look at them or something?" 

her stone stare softens after noticing your flustered state, and the two of you exchange a long and quiet look. 

abby held her breath nearly the entire time. she didn't want to assume anything or read the situation wrong, but your eyes were dilated. they were dilated from looking at her, and just from that. 

as if it were out of your control—like you were magnets—you started moving closer to her. abby could not seem to remember how to control a single muscle in her body, so she just sat and watched you move closer as her cheeks grew pinker and pinker. 

you stop right in front of her face, the tips of your noses kissing and your breaths shared. after a few seconds, you realized abby wouldn't initiate anything, so you leaned in and pressed your lips to hers, short and sweet. when you pulled away, abby's eyes remained closed for a few seconds before they slowly fluttered open. 

"you just kissed me," abby whispers in disbelief, pointing out the obvious. 

"i just kissed you," you echo back. 

it's abby who leans in for the second kiss, thick and intense with emotion, her hand sliding up your arm. her hand reaches the back of your neck, and she pulls you closer and deepens the kiss. 

you press your forehead to hers and stop kissing her, an infectious smile taking up your features instead. 

"are you.. are you seriously smiling right now?" abby gasps theatrically with mock offense. 

your smile breaks out into giggles and you press your face into her cheek to hide. 

"wow, i cannot believe this. you are laughing at our kiss!" she teases. 

"stop, no i’m not!" you plead, still laughing. 

"whatever you say." she grabs your chin between her fingers and pulls your face back to look at you. peppering kisses on your cheeks, she relents on her taunting.  

"are you gonna show me what i did wrong, or what?" she says, referring to the initial topic of her paper elephant. 

you smile back at her. "yeah, i will." 

"okay." she presses one last kiss to your temple and then waits for your instruction. 

"i was saying, there's supposed to be a crease here, on what'll be the back of the elephant." 

abby nods and hums like she's listening, but really, she smiles at your profile as you continue to speak. 

@abbysbug @abbyonmars @abigails-gf @picklesarenice69

heheheh all done!!!! this was so cute to write especially the end like i was talking to @abbyonmars while i wrote the end and we were fangirling over typed words and pixels. but what else is tumblr dot com for if not to fangirl!!!!

jealous girl — basketball!abby anderson au

synopsis: when the other girls on your cheer squad relentlessly show interest in your girlfriend, the captain of the basketball team — you feel the undying urge to claim her as yours and yours only.

♪ jealous girl — lana del rey (unreleased) ♪

cw: reader is a cheerleader / athletic, girl drama, alcohol, reader gets very possessive, jealousy and insecurity for no reason tbh, angst??? reader cries a bunch what’s new, smut, use of strap on, housewife kink, dom top abby, sub bottom reader, a little bit of overstim if you squint? fem reader, lmk if i missed anything!

an: omg hi! i’m so nervous to post this omg. i hope you like the route i took this down! reader can be kind of annoying but stick with it. minors you are not welcome here so don’t interact and ageless blogs you will be blocked. also please don’t ask for a part two! there will not be one! anyways hope you enjoy it bbs ! likes and reblogs welcome ♡

Winner. Scholar. First place.

And that was just the first shelf of Abby’s trophy cabinet. She’d been given the premier student accommodation. You know, the apartments they reserve for their most promising students. Sleek grey cabinets and polished floors, a kitchen to die for — it was no wonder you were barely ever at your own shitty little dorm. Every tri coloured ribbon that hung proudly beside her winnings wore a gleaming gold pendant on the end — just another display of her success. Walking around her sleek scholar apartment was so familiar to you that the glimmering display cabinet barely caught your eye anymore, but each time it did it welcomed a blossom of pride in your chest for your girlfriend, Abby Anderson.

Abby — casual rugby player, frequent at the boxing society, known for wooing her professors into raising her grades by showing up with her own engraved golf club to their country club and wowing them with her swing. But she was known for one thing and one thing only around campus, and that was being the captain of the basketball team.

She was ruthless, six feet and two inches of pure muscle and willpower on the court. The blonde braid, her trademark, swishing against her toned back — and if you’re seeing it, it’s because she’s already passed you with the ball that you had just bounced. You were no stranger to the sound of the orange ball thudding against laminate floors, and the squeaking of sneakers. Infact, it’s what brought the two of you together. No, you were not on the basketball team. You, were a cheerleader.

Not the captain, although that would have been beautifully cliche; the basketball ball team captain dating the captain of the cheerleading squad — take a shot every time you read the word captain, no seriously, quickest way to get wasted. You were happy that way, however. When you weren’t dancing, you were shy by nature. The change in your demeanour was a shock to the system every time — countless frat douches and friendly party goers stepping away wide eyed when they’d approach you, hoping for cheerleader charm and instead being met with a flustered squeak. It took a while for Abby to get through to you infact, as you can imagine — being a campus celebrity and all — approaching the shy girl was a mission she was willing to try again and again at, warming you up until you were eating right out of her big coarse palm.

The memory of your first meeting was still something that made her chuckle. She’d been crushing on you for a while before even saying a word — stealing heated glances at you whilst you were dancing or being tossed in the air — whilst you of course were convinced you had hallucinated The Abby Anderson acknowledging your existence. She was tired of stiffening up at your demure glances and flustered smiles directed at her, so all but marched over to you after winning a huge game. Pumped full of adrenaline, chest heaving as she chased her breath — you in her laser vision. You noticed the hair stuck to her forehead before she even spoke, the shape of an S.

“Hi—”

“I’m Abby.” She breathed out, like a total loser — she’d add.

“I… I know. I’m—”

“I know. Let me take you out. Please?” Don’t beg, Abby. “I asked your roommate if you liked girls.” You did not have to tell her that, jheez. Creep much?

“Oh…?” You couldn’t seem to close your mouth, trying to process what was happening and happening fast. For a moment you questioned whether you’d taken a tumble on that last cartwheel, currently blacked out on the floor in a concussion-hazed dream. Ooh, maybe Abby is carrying you to the infirmary.

“You can say no.” She rambled. She looked nervous for a moment and when you started to smile, so did she. “But… don’t.”

So you didn’t.

Abby was a dream. After you’d said yes, her confidence was slammed back into her and she was busying herself with planning ways to make you hers. She was confident and naturally dominant (Opening regular doors for you, opening car doors for you, hand on your lower back when you walked together…) without being arrogant. Humble, whilst holding herself with a presence that commanded nothing short of respect. She’d taken you for milkshakes for your first date, and you’d clicked instantly. Abby did everything right, which made your face hot and stomach clench up in nerves at the idea of doing something wrong infront of her. But that feeling melted away, the only two people in the small but admirable diner — Abby carrying the conversation for long enough until your shyness melted away, catching yourself in giggle fuelled rambles and debates.

You’d kissed her on the cheek at the end of the first date. So innocent, so sweet — she remembers thinking. She let you have that, didn’t try and go in for a kiss on the lips, stood outside your building. She was happy with her decision when you pulled back and just looked so fucking proud of yourself for taking such a leap. You exchanged some kind words, some gratitude with the small and humble bouquet Abby had showed up at your door with tucked under your arm — before you were flouncing away in your little sundress. Abby touched her hot cheek when she walked away, smiling ear to ear. Her fingertips grazed over a slightly sticky outline, and she picked up her pace to get home so that she could look in the mirror and catch the sight of your lipstick print on her face.

Current day, and you’re puffing out your cheeks — stepping into the sweaty auditorium. The humidity is a little stifling and you frown in disapproval, wondering when they’re going to be getting the fans fixed like they said they would. This time, tucked beneath your arm is Abby’s white water bottle, college logo printed along the side, that she’d left in your dorm when she’d dropped by the night before. Your eyes searched the room to spot her, and it didn’t take long as she pretty much towered over everyone — you stopped for a moment at the edge of the sports floor, chest inflamed by the sight of your squad members surrounding her, giggling.

You hate to say it, but whatever stereotype or rumour you’d heard about cheerleaders is true. Especially at your college, there was something so criminally But, I’m a Cheerleader (1999) about your squad in particular. You didn’t like to get involved in the drama, but sapphic drama was not unfamiliar to you. It was bizarre, everyone was friends — but their sporty girlfriends from outside of the team were getting passed around like peas. Abby had always been an object of their affection, but before you had started dating her she seemed out of reach — due to the fact the blonde quite literally never even glanced their way, too focused on the game, and whispers of ‘Abby doesn’t date sports team girls’ around campus. Since the two of you had been together, what — 10 months now? It seems to have refilled their confidence in being able to win her over, regardless of how you felt about it.

It was never direct. To anyone else, the group of you seemed like great friends — and you were the number one flyer, needing you as the centre piece for every dance. You were happy to get chucked in the air so long as they caught you, so as you can imagine; that element mixed with your shyness forced you into not confronting them all for flirting with Abby.

"No but if I had arms like this? Whew, no one would be safe. I'd be a slut... I mean I already am..." The cheer captain, Liv spoke, the other dancers squealing in agreement. Abby looked uncomfortable to say the least, forcing a polite smile and trying to wedge herself out the small hyena circle they had formed around her. A blossom of pride filled your chest when you saw the sheer relief in her eyes, her gaze landing on you. You surged forward into the light, smiling awkwardly at your peers as you approached your girlfriend. She bounced the orange ball on the ground once before tucking it under her arm, other bulging arm bringing you in for a quick hug. "Hi, baby." She chirped, happy to see you.

You wanted to enjoy the moment, but couldn't ignore the disapproving gazes from behind Abby's back, their faux-friendly smiles turning to not so subtle glances and snickers toward each other. Just ignore them. Abby didn't pay them any mind so why should you?

"Hi Abs." You lowered your voice, like you were hoping they'd get the hint and give you two privacy. They stuck around like flies, much to your disappointment. "You left your bottle at my dorm. Didn't want you to get dehydrated agai—"

"Awwww, you guys are so cute!" The bleach blonde base leader appeared beside your girlfriend, obnoxiously butting in and making a point to rest her hand on Abby's bicep. "I want what you have." She pout, but you couldn't help but feel that comment was directed more toward you.

"Oh—thanks." You chuckle, not quite meeting her eye. Abby took the bottle from you, shooting you a subtle ‘wtf?’ look which made you wanna giggle.

"Oh you refilled it, nice. Was so fuckin' thirsty." She smoothed a hand over your head gratefully as she brought the bottle to her lips and chugged, stepping away to address her team, their practice ending for the day, giving the cheerleaders the space to rehearse for tomorrow. "Alright team, circle up I got a few pointers." You heard her command, smiling as you watched her team members gather around her obediently. You snapped your eyes away toward the girl still stood by you, eyes slightly narrowed as she observed you. She looked away when you noticed her intense gaze.

As much as you hated to see Abby leave without you, it always brought you some kind of relief — knowing that your squad could actually focus on what you were there for, cheerleading — instead of fawning over your girlfriend, giggling, bending over in her direction to 'tie their laces'. You knew dating Abby would bring a lot of attention, and you knew that there must have been plenty of girls that were after her — but this whole thing with your own squad was getting pretty old. Sometimes you wished you weren't so shy, so you could give them a real stern talking to. You didn't wanna put it all on Abby, it wasn't fair, she didn't ask for this and plus it was your problem. You didn't wanna be that jealous and possessive girlfriend, did you?

The next day, Friday rolled around fast.

It took a lot to shake Abby’s confidence. She knew she was good at what she did, otherwise she wouldn’t be on such a prestigious scholarship, or have acquired the team captain title so fast — but she was nervous. The impending game was a big one, there was no room for fuck up’s. There had been talk of scouters for top women’s basketball leagues joining the audience, and Abby knew that if things went well it could really put her on the map, no — it was guaranteed.

Your eyes were fluttering closed, heavy after the long day you’d had perfecting your routine with the team. You were in your shabby little dorm, practically a hole in comparison to Abby’s sleek apartment. More times than not you’d stay with your girlfriend, calm eachothers nerves before a big game — but you had mutually decided that you’d both needed to ensure a perfect night’s sleep. Your phone laid beside your head on your pillow, the glow of Abby’s contact picture lighting up the small space around it. She was breathing slow and calm on the other line, clearly tired herself.

“And then you can come and stay at mine tomorrow after the game, and stuff.” She hummed, the sound of her shifting positions, her bedsheets rustling taking over the audio for just a moment.

“Mhm. ‘Can celebrate your win.” You smile, eyes now closed as you picture it all, nervous butterflies batting their wings against your stomach.

“Or mourn my loss.” She chides. “You can still come over either way.” Abby chuckles but it’s dry and humourless. She always got this way before a game, just a little pessimistic — doubting herself subtly through sly jokes and quiet comments. To anyone else, she’d still appear just as confident and carefree — but you knew Abby.

“Abs, don’t say that. Y’gonna win. Simple as.” You exhale, feeling your body sink further and further into the pillow. She was silent for a moment, considering it — probably doubting everything that had just come out your mouth, this time in her head.

“Hm.” You listened to her breathing, and it made you sleepier. “You’re tired baby. Let’s go to bed, yeah?” You wanted to protest, be there for her and soothe her nerves for a little longer until she felt ready to sleep but her voice was lulling you into a dozed state.

“You sure? I can… stay…” You could barely finish your sentence, making her chuckle tiredly.

“Yes, pretty girl. Gotta get your rest for tomorrow. Need you cheering me on up there, helps me play better.” She was smiling, you could hear it. Your heart swelled and you made a happy humming sound to after.

“Night Abby, seeyoutomorrowloveyou.” You sigh out in one breath.

“Night baby. Get some rest. I love you.”

The opening intro to Fergie’s — Fergalicious blared through the auditorium, your squad occupying half the court as you danced for the screaming crowd. Hips, hips, split jump, cartwheel — behind your bright smile you were counting steps, keeping your arms tight and straight, flickering your eyes towards the scoreboard. You looked properly as you stood on top of the pyramid, ankle by your head — burst of adrenaline and relief when your eyes landed on the numbers in glowing red, signifying that Abby’s team was still in the lead. You gracefully flipped, and were caught back on the ground, heart thundering in your chest as you continued on with the dance.

As rehearsed, the college mascot had run on, joining in on the dance. A ridiculous looking wolf with a brightly coloured t-shirt and cap on its furry head. He danced beside you, comedically shaking it’s hips in time with you. You glanced over at Abby, happy to see her looking eased, a slight smile on her face as she jogged away from the net, watching you dance. A few strands of her hair stuck to her face from sweating and it reminded you of the day she asked you out.

63-63 with three minutes to spare.

Your squad tried not to show that they were itching from the sidelines, eyes glued to the players as you were lined up by the benches, waving pom poms now and shouting your usual chants, trying not to get drowned out by the passionate yelling of the audience.

Be aggressive! B-E aggressive! I said be aggressive B-E aggressive! B-E A G G - R E S S I V E! Whooping the house down show ‘em who’s the leader — bring ya’ baby down down, go cheerleader!

You tried to keep your grin as you chant, moving your hips in time with your claps and arm movements as you watched Abby’s team mate miss the net, ball rebounding off the backboard. You caught a glimpse of the frustrated expression on Abby’s face, jogging around players and yelling directions over the crowd that seemed deafening at this point. You watched her eyes rake through the audience, looking for a talent scout shaking her head and drawing a big red cross on her clipboard or something. Her eyes then found you, a inkling of panic that was calmed by the tide that was your face staring right back at her, smile still plastered as you repeat your chants with your group. The sight of you surged something through her, she had to do it for you.

63-63 with two minutes to spare.

“Don’t worry guys, Abby’s got this.” Liv twinkled proudly, like the blonde captain even knew her name and you felt sick. Sick with nerves, sick with possessiveness, sick with irritation. You stomped your feet that little bit louder whilst you cheered, wanting to dash your pompoms at her head. You felt sweat trickling down your spine, head starting to pound from all the tension and noise. Was the crowd getting even louder? Where did you put your water bottle?

63-63 with one minute to spare, and there was no time to drink.

Even the chants stopped, the squad trailing off just to watch in awe. The sound barrier practically broke when the ball came to a thudding halt, caught mid pass by none other than Abby Anderson, basketball hero. This other team were good, frighteningly so — but they were no match for her. She dribbled with precision in and out of players until she met a wall of her opposition, closing in on her fast to snatch the ball. She turned left, turned right, looking for someone on her team she could rely on to get the ball in the net. The coach yelled from the side, the cheerleaders gripped eachother, the audience stood on their feet. Abby’s knees bent, arms extending. Everything went slow motion, like it always did as you watched with wide eyes. The ball didn’t circle round the hoop, it didn’t slide down from the backboard, it slammed straight through the net so hard you thought when it landed it might leave a dent in the ground.

63-64— and the crowd fucking exploded.

You were immediately jostled to the side by your squad jumping up and down, grabbing eachother with screams. You stumbled, jaw agape trying to catch sight of her. Where are you Abby? Let me see you.

She was suddenly there, expression mirroring yours. The world still moved slow, spotting eachother now. She took off toward you, dodging the grasp of a celebratory cheerleader, skidding past a team member that tried to pull her in, straight toward you. You met her half way, feet in control now and leapt, Abby getting the same idea and thrusting her arms around your waist, swinging you round in a circle. Then, you could both smile, and it didn’t stop growing, not even when you smashed your lips together. There was no sound anymore, no screaming crowd or cheering squad members — just your own delighted giggle against her, the sound of your heart pounding in your ears, the back of her hot, sweaty neck in your palm, your teeth clashing together at the force of the kiss.

You pulled away to breathe and the sound returned like you’d just come back up from underwater, the yells, the cheers, the chanting of her name. “I did it I fucking— do you know what this— baby, i did it.” She was panting, forehead pressed to yours and hell, you couldn’t care less that it seemed the world was watching such an intimate moment.

“Your life’s gonna change Abby, i’m so proud of you.” You breathed, and before she could reply — expression of awe, and utter love struck, she was setting you down and her team was tearing her away, lifting her above their head, passing her another big golden trophy to add to her shelf. She held it in the air, and then came the flashing of cameras, the barrage of students running to celebrate with her. A cheerleader from the other team roughly brushed your shoulder as she passed you with a glare and you didn’t even stop to acknowledge her, just watching on with pride — hands clasped beneath your chin. Your Abby had won, and nothing else in that moment mattered.

8:04PM

“Is it braggy if I wear the jersey on top?” She was smirking a little, stood in front of you in all her glory in her apartment. You spun around at the vanity, eyes taking her in as you pulled your little pink dress further down your thighs.

Your girlfriend was showered, and dressed — donning her bright blue jersey over her grey hoodie and jeans. You grinned, standing up. She looked good, but she always looked good. You had to stand on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around her neck. “Don’t you think you deserve to brag, a little?” You flutter your eyelashes, tilting your head with a grin.

After every game that was won, a party was thrown at the house of one of the sports captains. It was tradition, and almost always it was in Abby’s honour, because she was almost always the star of every game. The one to think of a genius formation that would throw off the other team, the one to make changes last minute that would be the saving grace, the one to make the winning shot. Today was like no other, and you knew everyone was willing to go extra hard this time — after that win, Abby was like a fucking celebrity.

You felt like you were hit with a shockwave of noise as soon as you walked in. The bass from the speaker was all but vibrating the floorboards, the sticky…wet (?) floorboards. You blinked, accustoming yourself to the low lights, clinging onto Abby’s thick bicep as a swarm of people coming to greet her approached. Sometimes parties felt like survival, Abby being that buoy in a storm that you’d cling to until the tide had cleared. The music was loud as usual, familiar, what was the song playing? You recognised the familiar tune to Blame It by Jamie Foxx and T-Pain and nodded your head with a false confidence. Drink, I need a drink — you thought, detaching yourself from Abby to beeline to the makeshift bar once you’d spotted it. Not the punch, you weren’t stupid — you had no clue what people had put in there. Vodka… vodka where are you? You grabbed the clear bottle with the red lid and poured yourself a generous amount into your cup before filling the rest up with… what were your options— cranberry juice. Nice. This will get you by. You needed social skills tonight, Abby had won a huge game and you didn’t wanna drag her down with your shyness. You sipped, no — downed some of your drink with a wince, some liquid spilling down your chin. Alter ego activate, shyness be gone.

You found Abby again, and when she spotted you awkwardly trying to wedge yourself through a gap to get to her she slotted her arm through, parting the sea of people like Moses himself to pull you right up beside her, torso to her ribs. You could stay like this, right up on her— you wanted to stay like this, but you’ll be damned if your girlfriend wasn’t social.

It’s an hour later, you’re drunk, laughing at something dumb Manny had come up with, social for once — and you hear them before you see them. The gaggle. The malicious giggles, pitched just a little higher than their real laugh in an attempt to turn heads. It works, you turn, there stand your cheerleader friends. ‘Friends’.

You can tell they went hard with the pregaming because they’re clinging onto eachother, forcing their way through the party crowd like a cluster of germs. That’s mean, you think to yourself, shaking off that feeling — the ugly feeling rising in your stomach like scalding bile. Insecurity, the feeling immovable even when you’re drunk and joyous, lodged into you seemingly forever, an arrow with spikes. You push it down, push it down, push it down as they squeal and come towards you. It flares up with immense force when you catch their outfits. They’re all wearing ‘Anderson’ jerseys. Did they fucking buy personalised jerseys?

It’s like you step out of yourself for a moment because you reach out and take a hold of the jersey across the cheer captains chest, turning her around and pulling the material taut as you see ‘Anderson’ in crisp white font across her back, mocking you. Your mouth is agape, unfocused and she steadies herself, turning back around and grabbing you.

“You like ‘em?” She whoops and all the girls join her, fondling their jerseys proudly and looking around for more eyes.

“Personalised jerseys?” Is all you manage to let out, just a simple observation. Liv falters for a second, something mischievous twinkling in her eye, lip curling up ever so slightly.

“Baaabe, the manufacturer f’ed up our order, and we fell one short. But we figured you’d have your own one right?” She eyes you obviously. Her malice is hardly hidden anymore. “Abby didn’t give you her jersey?” She tilts her head, as if it were an innocent question. You bitc—

“Abby!” The copper haired girl behind her squeals and you don’t have to turn around to know your girlfriend has unknowingly made her presence clear and accessible. The troupe practically rush you, shoving past to circle Abby once more. The uncomfortable look the blonde had yesterday in the court was gone, the one drink she’d been harbouring all night loosening her up a little — which made that insecure, jealous feeling nestle itself back beneath your ribcage.

“Heeeey— ohhh, awesome!” She smiles in a friendly way when she notices their jerseys. The same friendly expression she’d give to anyone, not flirty or lusty in the slightest — but they’re grabbing at her and batting their lashes up at her like they want to jump on her there and then and you feel yourself trying to crush the red solo cup in your palm. You’re broken out of your enraged trance because your sweet, thoughtful girlfriend is pulling you through the crowd they made, grinning without a care in the world. “You see this babe? Ah, should have given you my one to wear huh?” She laughs, and they laugh, but for different reasons.

The girls leave her alone for a while, but God they’re always fucking watching. Finding ways to subtly interact with your girlfriend. Accidentally bumping into her, which she barely notices until they start profusely apologising. Dance moves becoming inherently more sexy when she turns in their direction — not even looking at them but oh do they try. You finish your drink, because you need to finish your drink— and succumb to the urge to be that girlfriend. Who gives a fuck? Maybe you are that girlfriend.

It didn’t feel like you when you impatiently tugged her away from Nora, another basketball player, mid conversation, hands clasped in Abby’s silky jersey, pulling yourself to her chest, your own tits squishing against her.

“Aaabs.” You whine, and it’s giddy, lustful because she just looks so good. She smirks down at you, letting you tug at her, letting you move her. She looks so into you in that moment and it just… somethings not enough. You’re glancing for your cheer team, and that hideous feeling of shame briefly twinges inside you. Are they watching this? Seeing me touch you? Do they know you’re mine?

“Baby.” She’s returning your giddy smile, and you have to pull away from a moment so that you could back up a little… a little more into the clearing… give them a perfect view.

“Y’look so good.” Is all you can say because it’s true, and you’re pretty sure your eyes completely glazed over— pupils shooting out wide when she grabs a handful of your ass, a little rough but in a loving way, just like the Abby you’re used to — using her grip to pull you back into her hard, a small ‘hmph!’ whimper forced out of you when you all but slam into her strong chest. You love it when she got like this. Grabby. Forgetting her own strength and manhandling you. You’d usually be giggling and shoving her away in public, but you craved the eyes now. You wanted viewers, jealous gazes, realisations — Abby is locked in.

“Oh it’s like that huh?” She’s chuckling at your expression. Forever her needy girl.

You sucked in your lower lip, eyes melting into that doe eyed expression that made her want to fuck it off your face, and she squeezes your ass a little harder. Your knees practically buckle, face burning hot because you feel your pussy spread open under your dress — as if she’s opening the floodgates by hand, wetness pouring out into your underwear. You hoped and prayed they were watching. Screw your little Anderson jerseys, she’s gonna be knuckle deep inside me in five minutes if the two of you kept this up.

“Cant wait to— mm—” You turn your head. Liv is snickering, whispering, but her expression says it all. Jealousy. You feel victorious. Abby curls a finger around your chin and your distracted gaze is back on her.

“Cant wait to what?” She glances in the direction of what you were staring at and your heart skips a beat.

“Can’t wait for you to remind me what a winner feels like.” You breathe out quickly and she’s back, smirking hard like she can’t control it. If she was packing, she’d be tilting her hips forward by now, digging her strap into the mound of your cunt through your thin dress where you stood — and it makes her wish she did pull the harness up her thick thighs beneath her jeans before the two of you left for the party.

“Yeah?” Her voice is breathy, low. “Forgotten already?” She chuckles, and she’s kind of right to— she was always winning, it wasn’t easy to forget.

“Mhm. Oops.” You shrug and you both giggle this time, her hands sliding around your waist. Each time her hands find a new spot on her you can’t help yourself from glancing over at the eyes. At Liv. At the whispers. Get a good fucking look.

Abby leans in, hot breath on your cheek and you turn back to her nearly knocking noses. Her brows are frowned a little and her cheeks rosy, lips parted in a way that made you wanna shove your tongue between them. “Give me… a little while longer to bask in this.” She chuckles, humble like she always was. She steals a kiss from your parted lips. “Can’t leave a party thrown for me so soon… just a little longer and I’ll take you home and give you a reminder, pretty girl.” her blunt finger nails rake behind your ear, scraping whatever hair was there backwards, pecking you again. Your eyes fluttered at the feeling, hot and lethargic. You wanted to be obedient but something still negged at you, buzzed in your ear like a fly to ‘stay focused’.

You gripped her strong arms. An attempt at control.

“Don’t have to leave. Can just go upstairs. Right here right now.” You whined in an impatient way this time, fingers curling around her hoodie peeking from beneath her jersey. She blinked a few times and you knew she wasn’t a huge fan— Abby never liked quickies, especially not on a celebration. She wanted each time she fucked you to be memorable, like a performance — she was a love maker, and to her public quickies were usually just a little… euck.

Her soft smile remained, because the request only told her that you were desperate to have her. All the more reason to make you wait, she thought. Get you real worked up. Yeah, she could have fun with this.

“Not happening, babe. Wanna take my time on you, don’t you wanna have it out with me all night?” She tilted her head, persuading, blowing hot air over your mouth and God — yes, on one hand you wanted that badly but there you go again… eyes trailing off to the right… over to your cheer group. Show them. Drag me up the stairs Abby. Make me walk out the bathroom limping. Show them what they can’t have.

So you said “No!” and you were one quick movement from actually stomping your foot like a child. Abby looked taken aback, but she still chuckled. Not in a mean way, but was it ever? She leant back from you, trying to gauge just what was going on.

“No?”

“I need you here. You… stop denying me they’ll — they’ll see— it’s embarrassing—” The shovels in your hand and you’re digging that hole, deeper, deeper…

“Who will see? See what? Babe what’s with you?” The smile melts off and she’s frowning now. Ohhh, boy. You’ve fucked it up. You blink, like you’re trying to wake up from your petty possession. You look once more and they’re intrigued now, gossiping. Are they fighting? Will Abby be single by the end of the night? This enrages you more, but you don’t have time to react because Abby sees it now. See’s that envious look in your eye, but it’s not really envy — because Abby has never in her life given you a reason to be jealous. It’s uncharacteristic and Abby’s stomach twists a little. “Oh.” She steps back, no no no.

“Sorry.” You splutter out. “Sorry, sorry— I’m sorry Abby I don’t know what that was. I just freaked. I want you to bask in this, people are here to celebrate and you deserve that. Sorry. I don’t… know what I was thinking there.” You try and force out a chuckle at the end to lighten things but it doesn’t come out quite right. Abby watches you for a moment, a little tense and worried. Eventually she gives you a small smile, coming close to you again, a hand on your shoulder.

“S’okay. No more drinks yeah?” She’s gentle and you’re embarrassed, of everything really. This is meant to be the greatest night of Abby’s college career and you’re… doing this. Making it about you. Your shoulders slump a little before you shake yourself off physically.

“Yeah, no. Good call. Whew.” You smile and she smiles back. It’s all okay. You’re okay.

Except it’s not, and she knows that. Things are a little weird now, you’re distracted and trying too hard to please her. Eyes snapping towards her guiltily every time she catches your gaze wandering off, as if scared she’ll see you looking at those girls again fearfully. You stay right by her side, shyness creeping back in. You’re smiling in a polite, forced way, and she can tell you’re not really enjoying yourself anymore. Not after that weird moment. It gets a little later, and the party isn’t in as full of swing as it was before but still pretty lively. She can’t enjoy herself if you’re not, so why bother?

You watch her watch you, her shoulders dropping slightly when she sees how tense you look. Truthfully you were worried, you’d tried to show off — let your possessive urges control you — and now, insecurities at the surface you’d seem to make things worse. You didn’t know why you’d let this pick at you, get under your skin the way it has but the fact they’d all seen you have that weird moment? It was eating you alive. They were probably so smug, probably thought they stood a chance with Abby now. Your Abby.

“Babe let’s just go.” Your attention snaps back towards her, suddenly stood in front of you— her braid resting on her shoulder.

“What?”

“Yeah, no it’s— I can’t enjoy myself if you’re not. I’m not mad, baby I just don’t wanna force you to be here.” You feel so fucking bad.

“Abby, it’s not — I am enjoying myself. This is your party.” You express, coming close to her. Most of the alcohol had worn off by now, and you just felt sick from embarrassment— and this conversation was even more sobering. She shrugs, and looks around. It no longer seems to interest her.

“I know but… I’d rather you just be… not in this mood.” She speaks quietly but you hear her and your face falls. Did you really show yourself up that badly?

“Alright.” You match her pitch, and her back is to you again — saying goodbyes. You can’t look up, can’t look and see their disappointed faces. You wish you could close your ears, to not hear the choruses of ‘Already?’s and ‘Cmon Abby this is your party!’s. But you couldn’t keep your forlorn gaze glued to the ground for long, because you knew people would look at you, see your expression and know it’s your fault she’s leaving prematurely. You cursed yourself for caring too much about what people thought that night, and smiled politely in departure.

Abby took your hand, fingers locked into yours as she walked you toward the door, saying bye to people as she continued moving. You made the mistake of sparing your cheer team a departing look, and they were watching once more — glancing at each other curiously. Liv wiggled her eyebrows playfully as you passed her. “Ooo, someone’s in trouble.” She snickered, and your breath caught in your throat.

You didn’t start crying until the car was half way down the street. You’d tried to keep it silent at first. But the car was already silent, the radio not turned on and Abby not saying anything. You didn’t know what the silence meant, you just knew you didn’t like it. Maybe she was reconsidering things. You’d ruined her night, the night that was supposed to be all hers and you took it from her — all because of your petty, jealous, insecurities. That wasn’t the kind of girlfriend she deserved, you were supposed to put all your focus into supporting her. Exist for her. She’d never given you a reason to worry about other girls but for fucks sake — those girls. You let them walk all over you every single day and now they were all talking. All coming up with schemes to take Abby from you, thinking your relationship was on the rocks and maybe it would work. After how you acted tonight, maybe it would fucking work.

You covered your face when the tears started really coming down hard, a quiet sob shuddering out of you. Abby glanced at you, jaw tensing a little. Not because she was angry, just because she was so confused about how you’d gotten here. She’d never seen you like this before and just… what had she done to get you so fucked up like this? She spoke your name, calmly — full of authority and a little detached, not cooing it gently like she would when she’s seen you cry in the past. Her tone made another sob hiccup out, and she spoke it again. “Look at me.”

You did, and you had to wipe the snot from beneath your nose so that it didn’t stick to your hands when you pulled them away. Your makeup was ruined, eyes sore and red and she glanced over you, her main focus on the road.

“Just… breathe and calm down. We are gonna talk about this when we get home.” She shakes her head a little, eyes on the road. Your heart aches and soothes a little at her calling her student apartment ‘home’ like it belonged to the both of you. You don’t have time to indulge the fantasy. “I don’t… understand this… tantrum babe.” She mutters like she’s too mature for it all and she is, which makes you all the more embarrassed. She doesn’t speak for the rest of the journey home, tear drops on her expensive leather seats. Well — she doesn’t speak if you don’t include the occasional “Breathe.” and such when she’d hear your breathing start to pick up, upsetting yourself all over again.

She walked you up to her apartment and you hugged yourself as you stood behind her, watching her unlock her door. She held the door open for you, but didn’t look at you when you walked through — unsurely looking around like you’d never been there before. You wasn’t sure what to do or where to go. Did she want to talk now?

You stood in the hallway and her warm hands gently came down onto your shoulders.

“Go sit down on the couch.”

When Abby tells you what to do, you do it. And not because she’s scary, or intimidating or aggressive. She just carries this… air to her. One that makes you want to respect her, no matter how worked up or pissed off or upset you are. It would be the same way every single time, she’ll calmly make a demand and you fucking do it. Of course, minus the mini ‘tantrum’, as she so kindly put it, you had.

She didn’t follow you, infact — she walked the other way to her bedroom, hearing the door click shut when you made your way into her living room area. The leather couch that was usually home to so much love and affection now cold against your skin when you sit down on it, the sleek material frigid from not being touched for hours on end. You bring your knees together shivering a little, and a few minutes later Abby returns. She wields a makeup wipe, and presses it into your palm silently when she lowers herself into the arm chair opposite you. You want to cry out like a baby and reach for her, ask her why she’s sitting so far away but you have to be good. You have to fix everything.

Abby’s thighs spread as she leans forward, staring you down analytically with her elbows on her knees, long fingers wringing her wrists before she looks down at them, puffing out her cheeks with a long exhale. You wait for her to speak, wiping the gooey eye makeup up from your cheeks and eyes.

“Tell me… what this is all about.” Her voice holds a quiet kindness this time, despite the line that appears between her brows as her expression becomes a little exasperated.

You suck in a quick breath, eager to explain yourself and beg for forgiveness — “Nothing I was just being —”

“The truth.” She raised her hand to speak which silenced you instantly. You press your lips together, letting two fat residual tears race down your cheeks either side, the left tear winning victoriously when it surpassed your jaw and streamed lazily along your neck. Abby watched it move.

You thought this time. No more covering it up. No more being immature. Be truthful. What was this all about again?

“I think…” You gulped, willing yourself to be brave. You knew Abby might not see you as a ‘chill’ girlfriend anymore— exposing your insecurities and jealousy — but she wanted the truth and being a liar was objectively worse. “The girls on my cheer team are… I think they’re picking on me.” You admit quietly and her brows jump up, intrigued. Not quite what she was expecting. She stays quiet and you carry on. “I’m not… I don’t wanna be toxic and jealous. I let it get the better of me tonight. They’re always… flirting with you, talkin’ about you, showing off to you, trying to get your attention and at first I didn’t care because, I have you, you know? And you’ve never given me any reason to believe your eyes have wandered but fuck it’s so hard when they’re just… relentless. And beautiful and confident and I’m… I know what people think Abby. I know I’m shy and people wonder how…” You trail off, and you’re not sure you wanna admit any more. Not after that explosive rant.

“People wonder how what?” She pushes, and she’s scooched so far onto the edge of her seat that her long legs are bunched up and she’s barely perched on it.

“Wonder how… I got you. Why you stay with me.”

The confusion just melts off her face.

She blinks a couple of times, feeling like someone just placed her heart in a panini press hearing your sad and small tone of voice. So small, and she can tell you really believe what you’re saying and it just kills her. She wants to reach out then and there and hold you and kiss you and cry for you but you’re talking again.

“And I know you’re not a trophy and I don’t see you that way, please don’t think I ever—”

“No, no no no.” Abby cuts you off as a correction, eyes shut as she scrubs a hand down her face. She gets it now. The jealousy. Clearly, you hadn’t noticed the wandering eyes of her basketball team players, smirking over at you when your little cheer skirt that was too short for everyone’s good would flip up, shaking your hips in your adorable little routines. How if she didn’t keep you on her arm at every party, frat boys would start to circle you like crows, waiting to pounce until they realise, holy shit that’s Abby’s girl, and back off. If anyone got it, it was her. “You don’t need to explain anymore I’m… sorry. Come here, please.” Her pained expression relieves you and also devastates you because now she’s blaming herself.

You listen, again, because it’s Abby and you push off the couch to stand in front of her on the arm chair. She pulls you to sit sideways on her leg, thick arms wrapping around your waist protectively. She looks up at you, brows furrowed.

“You are beautiful. I don’t… want anyone else. Ever. I love you, baby. You know I love you? You know I don’t give a fuck about any of those other girls. They’re not you they’re not… c’mon.” That gentle cooing voice has broken through and more tears slide down your raw cheeks. She’s wiping them away this time, coarse thumb swiping the moisture until it absorbs into her skin, becoming apart of her.

You sniffle, overwhelmed. “I’m sorry. This is your night and you’re comforting me. I promise I’m happy for you.” You hiccup into her neck when she pulls you in, and you feel her shake her head because her braid tickles your arm.

“I don’t care.” She chuckles honestly and cups your face to pull you back, make you look at her. She’s so beautiful you want to cry some more. “I don’t. It could be my birthday and I’d still look after you. You’re my girl, yeah? You over everything.” She exaggerates, moving her head slightly to meet your eyes when you try to shamefully drift them away.

“Kay. Love you, Abby. M’so lucky.” She feels you sigh in relief and your body relaxes just a little bit. Her hands slide around your back and press into the muscle, massaging and rubbing — trying to get you to just melt and become one with her when you cuddle her.

“I’m lucky.” She speaks into your temple, pressing kisses there. She manages to gently manoeuvre you until her lips are pressing the same quick succession of kisses onto your swollen pouty lips. She hums in satisfaction and you feel something stir in your tummy. The hum was almost primal, one that said ‘this is mine.’ You wanted to hear the noise again. Without too much thought behind it, you turn to sit on her lap fully, facing her now. You pull yourself closer with your arms around her neck and your kisses begin to dot along her jawline. Come on Abby, make the pretty noise.

She sighs, tilting her head for your access and thinks. Thinks over everything that had just happened. Maybe she hadn’t done enough, her brain had been so focused on winning the game that perhaps she’d forgotten to reassure you when you needed it, and she knew how important reassurance was in a relationship. An urge spread through her body, starting in her stomach like an icy cold lake and travelling up to her chest like molten lava. The urge to just… give you everything. Everything you wanted and needed. Everything you couldn’t ask for and everything she should have given you. Abby had always harboured a ‘spoiling’ side, and in that moment it had kicked in hard.

She pulled the strap of your dress off your shoulder, letting your head tip back this time as she sucked and nipped at the soft skin there. She loved how opposite you were to her, when she was sweaty and rough around the edges after a game you were still impossibly soft everywhere, still smelled sweet and clean and like you, like she was a wild lion coming to lay her cheek in your gentle hand after slaughtering a deer.

You squirmed on her lap and Abby jumped between your lips and your skin, feeling that beautifully familiar warmth begin to spread through your underwear again. Starting with your clit starting to throb when she’d gently buck her thighs below you — all the way to your hole that started to ache and crave the feeling of her inside. Her tongue lapped up your own, sucking obscenely as her hands pushed your lower back, bringing you higher on her lap and— oh?

You were now sitting atop a bulge. One that wasn’t there at the party. You thought back to her disappearing into her room as you sat down on the couch when you’d arrived back at the apartment and smiled at the feeling against her lips. So calculated, Abby — and she smiled back because she knew. Knew she was gonna have to fuck the attitude out of you after your talk, she just didn’t expect you to fold so easily. For it to take such an emotional direction. She could just tease you for being a cry baby, but where’s the fun in that?

You start to grind like you just can’t help yourself, your shared saliva pooling beneath your pouty bottom lip as the kisses became more sloppy and intense. You swore you could never get over how good it felt to hump against her jeans in just your panties, the combination of materials and the writhing of your hips always leaving you gasping. Abby too, the way the strap was positioned would press snugly against her clit making her breath stutter against your lips. She refocused herself, fingers tugging your dress up to your waist. Enough had been about her tonight she’d decided, now she wanted to make it all about you.

You detached for a moment to pull your dress over your head, lips meeting once more as she tossed it aside. Next came the unclasping of your bra, and then she was sliding your thong down your legs. When she balled it up to chuck aside she felt the wetness in her palm.

You stood over her now, the one time you weren’t shy — stark naked. She’d made you so comfortable over the ten months you’d been together it wasn’t even something you’d take a second worrying about anymore, Abby knowing the map of your body like the back of her hand. She made you feel so safe with her gentle-ness. Abby, big scary Abigail Anderson, Abby ‘i’ll beat your fucking face in if you step up to me outside the basketball court, no seriously repeat what the fuck you just said’ Anderson. And you’ve reduced her to this gentle, loving giant. Someone who was rubbing her big hand up your tummy as her thighs caged you in where you stood. Reaching for your breast and just rolling her thumb over your nipple making your legs quiver a little. All her stoicism that everyone else knew her for had melted away, her eyes soft and loving as she gazed at you, touching you.

She reached up and began tugging her jersey off over her head, leaving her in the grey hoodie. Where you expected her to toss it aside with the heap that was your pink dress and underwear, she brought her attention to it, bunching it up and opening up the head hole of the shirt. “C’mere.” She muttered, standing up over you, your neck suddenly craning to meet her eye. “Put it on. Fuck those other girls cheap ass jerseys. My girl gets the real deal.” She’s speaking so quietly that you feel like she’s talking to herself, that you shouldn’t intrude her stream of thoughts — even if the words made you literally clench your hole so tight you could crush a fucking walnut in there.

She slipped it over your head and pulled your arms through the arm holes, stepping back with her hands on your shoulders so she could look at you. Look down at you. See the way you stared up at her tall frame, her jersey swamping you and resting beneath the swell of the plump under-cup of your ass cheeks. “Looking good babe.” She smiles, holding you back to carry on looking at you even when you try and lurch forward, hands loose-fisted and grabby as you try and climb all up on her again where she stood. She subdued you by taking your hand, walking away and practically dragging you along behind her. “C’mon, this way. Not fucking you on the couch.” Though it wouldn’t be the first time.

She had you on her lap again in no time, her feet planted heavily on the floor as you press into her cloaked strap, legs stretched over her thighs making you ache in that delicious way that said nothing more than ‘my girlfriend is fucking huge, the gym fears her’. Impatient, you’re tugging her hand that was cupping your throat, pushing it down, down between your thighs. She pulls away, a little breathless with her mouth all red when she slides her fingers through your cunt, eyes on your hard nipples creating little mountain peaks against her jersey as you breathe heavy in her face. “Soaked, baby. Have you been needing me like this all night?” She’s whispering before her lips are on yours again, stroking your little bundle of nerves head on, making your legs flatten out and tense in the air with a quiet yelp. “I know.” She hums, and that’s all it takes to soothe you. Yes, she knows. She always knows. It was Abby for gods sake, if anyone knew exactly what you needed… well.

After torturous stroking, Abby’s middle finger curls down right to where your hole is, pressing and massaging and teasing. She knows you want her inside, you want more than her fingers, fuck — if you could you’d just consume her whole but this will definitely do the trick. “I want you,” she starts, slurred by the open mouth kiss she’s pressing to your shoulder now. “To ask me nicely. Not like you did earlier. Show me my good girl.” She whispered, like it was one last attempt at being strict before she just gave in and spoiled you. It fooled you, anyways— your mouth falling open with a whine as her thumb pressed up against your clit.

“Please Abby— ‘ll be a good girl now okay? Wanna be your good girl.” You’re blabbering against her cheek and she doesn’t fight you on it, pushing inside you and basking in the way you give her a welcoming squeeze upon entry.

“How are you still so tight? After I’ve abused that pretty pussy so many times?” She sighs, tone suggesting that she’s actually pondering it at a moment like this. You don’t have the strength to respond, fucking against her fingers. You loved foreplay with Abby, don’t ever doubt that for a second — but tonight there was something different, it just felt like preparation. The two of you knew that tonight of all nights you needed to get fucked with her cock, and that would be the main event. She could barely wait, but she’ll be damned if she doesn’t loosen you up around her callous digits first so she can slip right inside of you easily.

She slips another finger inside you and you black out a little bit, like you always do. Maybe it was all the emotions finally catching up with you, but you just go limp in her lap, letting her finger fuck you the way you need. “Prettiest girl ever. Don’t know what the fuck you were worried about. Gonna fuck it out your brain tonight, yeah?” She’s cooing again and she knows that’s your sweet spot, that tone of voice doing it for you every damn time. If anything was gonna make you cum quick, it’s gonna be the sympathetic drag of her voice as she ensures you that you don’t have to think anymore.

“Yeah Abby, please! Yeah!” You sound pornagraphic and your spine flushes hot at the idea of the surrounding students in her neighbouring apartments hearing any of this — though it wouldn’t be the first time (as told by the passive aggressive post-it note left on her door reading ‘Keep it down we don’t all need to hear your girl busting a nut.’ that one time. You didn’t live down the humiliation for a week, and Abby of course only took it as a challenge to make you moan louder despite your pleas of ‘Abby! You’re going to get kicked out of your building!’ whilst her head was in your crotch. Anyway—)

She was practically vibrating her hand at this point, fingers squelching in and out of you with sounds so mortifying that if you weren’t experiencing such euphoria perhaps you’d bury your face into her cuss her out for embarrassing you. You, were slurring a made up language made of her name, curse words and just down-right vulgarity as you felt your stomach lock up in that scaldingly familiarly way. Abby chuckled, smug at your babbling, responding with “Yeah?” and “Uh-huh?” until you were clenching hard around her fingers halting their movement slightly, which gave her the green light to move onto “Thats it baby, cum for me. Just getting started with you tonight. Give it to me, pretty girl.”

You went numb, pretty much everywhere but your cunt — something high pitched and feral deafening you through the impending white noise of your orgasm — wait, was that you? You could hardly breathe, and when some feeling returned to you, you felt stickiness all along the inner sides of your thighs and seeping into the rough denim of Abby’s lap below you. Jesus… did she make you—?

“Shit babe, fucking… baptised me there.” She pants, like she was the one that just received an earth shattering orgasm and you collapse against the strong muscle of her shoulder, trying to self soothe— trying to ground yourself. You twitched, her fingers stilling within you at the tell-tale sign of overstimulation. She pulled them out, rubbing her thumb on your bare hip as she pressed her chin to her chest looking down between your bodies, admiring the gooey mess you’d left on her. “Already got a little fountain going on down there baby, we haven’t even been going at it for that long.” She teases with a grin in a way you know is meant to be praise because as soon as you lift your head she’s attacking your hot cheeks with kisses.

“S’embarrassing.” You whimper, despite your small giddy smile and she tsks a little, hand creeping up to your throat, holding your sturdily there.

“If you’re still finding things embarrassing, it’s because I haven’t fucked all those bad thoughts from today out that pretty little head yet. You still want it?” She’s speaking against your lips now, effortlessly pushing her hips up beneath you and rolling her strap into your sensitive cunt again. Is that even a question?

“Still— still want it—”

You weren’t finished speaking, and Abby is moving at the speed of light. She cups your beneath your ass with one hand, still using your delicate neck as her main grabbing point— she twists the two of you, so suddenly you’re on your back and she’s hovering over you, all in one quick succession that makes your head spin. Your back bounces against the bed, bounces you into her and her thumb soothes over your throat. “Hands still working baby?” She kisses the corner of your mouth. You flex your fingers out of her vision, testing.

“Yes.”

“Undo my belt then, pretty.” It’s clear she still needs both of her hands to caress you, so you get to work, shakily reaching for the leather tucked within the denim waistband of her jeans. It’s smooth and feels expensive beneath your fingers, and the sound of the buckle clinking makes you squeeze out more of the residual arousal you’d spewed out only minutes prior. It’s like she can tell it does something for you, because her tough pads of her fingers come and rest on your sensitive clit again, just rubbing slow lethargic circles making it harder to pull the belt out of the loops. “Thats my girl.” She helps you, taking the belt and placing it aside.

She does the rest, because you just weren’t moving efficiently enough for her liking, one hand sliding up your soft arm until she’s pinning your wrist gently to the bed, fingers intertwining with yours, and the other hand deftly unpopping the button of her jeans and sliding the zipper down. She pulls the familiar plastic cock out, adjusting her hips and resting the shaft along your tummy, tip grazing just below your belly button. “Think you’re ready for me now?” She leans forward, nudging your chin with her own to get your lips where she needed to capture them, sucking on your bottom lip barely allowing you to sigh out a pleasured “Uh-huh.” against her.

She sits up, pulling her hoodie off leaving her in just a fitted black wifebeater and the pace of everything changes all of a sudden. It’s less desperate and more purposeful, coming into her dominance and remaining control like she always did. She leant over you, reaching for the lube in the bedside drawer and leant back, drizzling it over the shaft. You reached forward without thinking and massaged it around for her, looking up at her with those big needy puppy dog eyes. She groaned, like you were actually jerking her off — greedily yanking her jersey up to sit above your plush tits for her viewing pleasure.

“Fuck… so pretty… Alright baby, deep breath in for me.”

She looked so good like this, hair stuck to her face and neck, jeans pulled just below her peachy ass being cupped by the ropey black harness. The royal blue plastic glistening as she slides it up and down your willing cunt. Her biceps bulging from holding herself up above you, making you just want to sink your teeth into her. Abby was a work of fucking art.

You follow her instructions, Abby kissing away your strained whimpers at the stretch. It only made sense that Abby Anderson, home to all BDE — was weighed down by a fucking monster of a strap, 7 and a half inches, thick and dark blue with added detail of veins and a fat tip. When you first slept together, after one very successful date, sitting on her lap in that little innocent floral dress that rode up your doughy thighs just right — she thought about calling the whole thing off until she could get her hands on a strap a little smaller and less threatening. Until, of course — your wide and blameless eyes were staring up at her, hand barely wrapping around it as you thickly muttered out a ‘I can take it Abby. Let me take you’, and the rest is obviously history.

She sighed out once she was fully seated in you, like it was a relief, like one day you might not be able to take her fully and she’d have to practise even more self restraint by thrusting in halfsies. You tensed up, suddenly aware of the situation again. A spike of sickly anxiety washed through your stomach. Did you deserve this? After the havoc you caused today? “Pretty girl. Let me in that head.” She whispers and it hypnotises you as she thrusts slowly, just grinding her hips against yours.

“Don’t — mmphm— don’t deserve this.” Your voice is high and a little panicked, and Abby’s eyes open to pin you down with her grounding gaze. She knocks your chin up gently toward her as if to say ‘look at me.’ and she rests her hand over your chest, feeling the hammering of your heart as you very suddenly become overwhelmed.

“Hey.” She drags calmly, raising her eyebrows. You try and relax, copying her breathing because you knew she was about to tell you to do that anyway. “Sweet girl.” She thumbs your cheek. “You deserve every last inch of this fucking cock.” She’s whispering again and you cry, hard. She picks up on what you need, and she presses up deeper into you, making your legs flail before wrapping tightly around her ass, your tits bouncing obscenely to the rhythm of her thrusts. “My perfect girl. Don’t have to worry about anything ever again. Yeah? Gonna fucking… go pro ball, make you my pretty little courtside wife. How’s that sound?” She starts to thrust a bit harder and you’re stunned out of your freak out session, distracted by her words and overcome by pleasure as you just listen. Interested to see where this fantasy will go.

“Yes.” Is all you manage and it’s barely audible but she hears it, and carries on.

“Gonna make it to WNBA for you baby. Not for me. So I can spoil you for the rest of my fucking life.” She grits her teeth, her big rough hands sliding around your back so she can cradle you, use your body to fuck you on and off her cock. You whine, barely aware of the fresh tears rolling down your cheeks. “You wanna give me that baby? Let me buy you every pair of shoes and stupidly priced handbags so you can look pretty for me at every game? Yeah?” Her voice is higher pitched and you think she might cum at some point, but she’s too determined to fuck your lights out completely for any of that.

“W—want that Abs, want you— I want —”

She’s interrupting, not finished with stuffing this fantasy into your brain until there’s nothing there but the manifestation of those thoughts. “You won’t even remember those girls on your cheer squad. They’ll be nobodies. You think I’d ever fucking look at anyone else but you, hm? My pretty little wife?”

Just when you think things can’t get more intense, she’s decided that she’s not physically deep enough — and pushes your thighs up to your chest, knees squishing against your tits as she stretched you, grunting out a “Fuck”, a sign of her losing control for a second. “N’then after every game. Can take you.. fuck, can take you shopping, fly you out wherever you want. Slut you out, just like this. You want that life baby don’t you? You wanna give me that life?” Your brain is muddled, and you can’t tell if you’re begging her or she’s begging you. Your mouth is open, but the air is punched from you and you’re just squeaking like a dog toy and she pounds your little cunt.

She reaches for what seems to be your on button, shoving her thumb between your lifted legs and grinding your abused clit again. “Wanna— wanna be your wife Abby. Want — I wanna—” You’re rambling, and then you’re cumming, harder than you’ve cum in your life. Your throat is raw, nails clawing for something, some kind of life support as she fucks you through your orgasm, breathless and determined. You vaguely feel yourself marking up her skin with your nails, but you’re never fully aware of yourself doing it — always just as shocked and guilty when you see the red streaks across her freckled skin the next morning whilst she’s brushing her teeth in the bathroom with a towel around her waist.

“Good girl. My good fucking girl you take it all. Take what I’m giving you.”

And you do, because when she goes to slow down you’re whining and bucking against her strap— fuck drunk and obsessive, finally getting to that dumb place she needs you to be able to rid of all those negative ideas you had about yourself earlier. She lets you breathe as she thinks about it, thinks about the way you misbehaved and the way you wouldn’t use your words. Maybe there was still more in you, more room for some reinforcement.

That’s why approximately five minutes later you had your cheek to the pillow having been pressed there by the basketball captain herself, Abby’s foot up on the bed and your ass in the hair as she drilled into your weeping pussy.

She pushes your back down, against the protests and your cries and your “Can’t Abs, so deep!” muttering for you to “Just fucking take it, sweet girl. I’m not asking.”

You give in and let her, already feeling yourself close to another animalistic style orgasm which only leaves your heart aching for your peeved neighbours that were probably just trying to sleep.

“You gonna listen next time, huh?” You don’t know how she has the endurance to keep slamming into you like this, wife beater pulled up above her sweat-gleaming abs now to not obstruct her vision of her creamy strap pounding in and out your soft flushed pussy. “You tell me when you fucking need me, yeah? You tell me when you’re feeling a type of way and you need me to reassure you from now on.” She waits a beat, and you wail. “Say yes.” She adds in command.

“Yeees!” You cry.

“Say yes Abby.”

“Yes Abby!”

You’re pretty much on autopilot at this point, brain so empty that all it knows is to do exactly what Abby says at all times, chasing that lingering tight coil in your stomach that whispered ‘cum one more time for her’ in your ear in a saccharine sweet voice that just about convinced you. Adding onto the persuasion, Abby’s weight dropped a little more onto you, hot torso against your back and hips grinding feverishly into you still. “Give me one more then. One more and that’s it baby. Keep being good for me.”

So you do, again, and this one is different from the rest — it’s your last drop, your last spot of energy. You’re weeping and grabbing and you feel it ooze out of you around the punishing blue plastic, and when you’ve done it Abby gets softer, kissing your spine and pulling out, so much praise your brain can’t even register it through your submissive fog.

“Did so good baby. So perfect, angel. Love you so much, my girl.”

She was cleaning you up before you could blink with a cold wet wipe from her bed side draw, practically scooping out endless amounts of your creamy arousal as you whimper at the sensitivity.

“Cold” You whisper, and you’re not sure if it was by choice seeing as you didn’t think you had a voice at that point.

“I know.” She chuckled, voice low and hands gentle— stroking the backs of your thighs as you stay on your front, legs trembling now as the adrenaline dwindles in your body. “Did so good for me. Let’s roll you over.”

She’s kicked off her jeans and her harness, now just in her boxers and wife beater— eyes flickering to your hands tugging at the jersey.

“Want it off. Wanna feel you.” You mumble sleepily once you’re on your back, desperately craving your skin on hers. She cradles your neck as she obliges, slipping the material up and over your head and pulling you into her.

You knew she carried on doting on you after you’d fallen asleep, and truthfully you don’t remember when you fell asleep — somewhere between her wiping you down and peppering kisses across your whole body — but like usual, her strap had knocked you the fuck out, and before you knew it you were waking up, disorientated by the morning sun flooding in through the blinds. Your senses start to arrive back to your body and you note them off like a checklist in your foggy brain. Touch, Abby’s arms locked around your waist. Sight, the blinding laser beam of sun attacking your eyeballs. Smell, Abby. Hearing, Abby. And the birds tweeting.

You roll, twisting in her arms so that your head was tucking beneath her chin against her chest, breathing her in and relishing in the way her skin stayed warm through the night like an electric blanket, unlike your own — cold to the touch from kicking off your side of the duvet.

She’s still fast asleep, always the heavy sleeper and after the game and the party you decide that big girl needs her rest, even if you’re now wide awake and staring at her. She looked like a painting, pouty lips swollen from a night of kissing, honeyed hair still in its braid but totally messed up now, pale blonde baby hairs sticking up and around her face. Her dark lashes kissed beneath her eyes and her chest moved up and down like the slow rocking of a small boat on a calm tide. You smiled when the sun slid further into the sky and created a beam across her eyes, making her scrunch them in her sleep and bury her face into the pillow.

You remember peeing last night now, before you’d fallen asleep — Abby carrying your warm, dazed body to the bathroom and sitting you on the toilet, letting you lean your cheek against her tummy to hold you up as you pee’d, gently shushing your complaints about removing you from the bed.

“S’not good for you to hold your pee after sex, babe.”

“M’sleepy. ‘Don’t care if I get a UFO.”

“UTI. And I care.”

You slowly slide out the bed careful not to wake your girlfriend, on a hunt for your phone. You pull Abby’s jersey back over your head for coverage and tiptoe out the room. Where did you put your bag again? You find it tossed on the couch haphazardly where you left it and fished through it, leaning on the back of her leather couch as you scrolled through. Your thumb tapped the Instagram logo and loaded it up, automatically gravitating towards Abby’s story, displayed at the top of the screen. You pressed it, expecting to see some kind of victory shot of her holding the trophy or a picture with her team, but instead were met with a photo of you that she’d taken when you’d fallen asleep last night— your head turned the other way on the pillow, arms tucked beneath it. Bare back glowing in the dim light of the room, bed covers resting at your waist. The caption reads: ‘Future WNBA wife.’ followed by your @.

Any other day you might gasp, due to the nature of the picture being that — well — it’s clear even to the untrained eye that you’d just been fucked within an inch of your life. But you grin, glowing from the inside out. She was showing you off, indirectly reassuring you even more because she knows you need it. You press a heart on the story, stepping in the direction of the bedroom to attack her sleepy face with kisses— but your eyes catch on the kitchen instead.

The perks of dating someone with such a buff body, was that they always would be stocked up on plenty of food. Not like your dorm, thinking back to the microwave meals and tins of soup stocked up in your kitchen made you grimace. You swung open her refrigerator door, gathering ingredients to whip her up a winners breakfast.

Having made everything from scratch, by the time the breakfast was nearly ready you’d heard Abby stir and climb out of bed, disturbed by the accidental clattering of pots and pans. The water ran for a while, and as you turned off the stove — removing her frying pan of eggs, you’d heard her heavy feet plodding into the room.

You nearly burnt yourself at the sight of her, sweatpants pulled up low on her waist, no shirt, red scratches from your overexcited claws the night before wrapping around her bicep and over her left shoulder, assumably trailing down onto her back, and her hair down — a little damp, falling messily across her small chest. You offered her a small smile as she took in the scene, looking very serious about it too you might add. Turning around back to the chopping board to prepare some turkey bacon for her you felt her crowd you. A shadow casted over you. You were suddenly smaller.

“Makin’ me breakfast? Was I that good?” She rasped, huge hands sliding around your waist — instantly dwarfing you some more.

“Mhm. Breakfast for a winner.” You chirped quietly, too early to be excitable.

“Really leaning into this whole housewife thing aren’t you baby?” She chuckles and your face heats up. Is it that obvious? She presses kisses to the side of your neck, hands grabbing you all over. Involuntarily, you arch your back— pressing your ass into her crotch and she winces.

You freeze up, knife clattering out of your hand onto the wooden chopping board and brows furrowing at the way her fingers tighten around your waist, lips by your temple now. You’re practically pinned to the counter, hands flexed wide on the smooth surface when you grind back against her again experimentally.

She’d never admit it, but last night had left her wanting, which she expected was selfishness considering she vowed to make it all about you. She pulled you back against her, your plush ass beneath just her jersey thumping against her clit again — nothing but that and the material of her sweatpants brushing up against her swollen button. You whimpered a little, not making it better for anyone and found your rhythm, rubbing and humping back on her, feeling her exposed tits against your back. “Like this?” You whine, and tug up the jersey so your bare ass is on display now, just a vessel for Abby to get off on.

“Just like that, pretty.”

The sight makes her push into you a little harder, bending you over the counter when there’s nowhere else to go. She continues humping you, leaning over you and kissing you, curling her toes against the tiles until she explodes into quiet, low gasps and groans— leaking into the grey material as you help her along with encouraging noises.

“Fuck babe, fuckprettygirl— my god.” She pants, leaning over you and pressing a kiss onto your back before tugging your jersey back down with a chuckle after a minute of panting and coming down. “Gonna put me back to sleep.” She gives your ass a loving slap, grabbing the flesh of it in her meaty hand before walking around you to lean against the counter top tiredly. You giggle, shaky hands getting back to food prep as she watches you with fond eyes. “How you feeling? All good?” She analyses, mind still on your series of mini freak out’s the night before.

Your eyes are on the turkey as you continue slicing shyly. “Sore. But all good.”

“Sorry baby.” Her thumb rubs your arm sympathetically.

“No I— I like it. Like feeling you the next day.” You don’t look at her, you can’t, but you know she’s grinning.

“Good.”

She disappears for a minute and reappears with her phone, scrolling, checking notifications. You begin to plate up her breakfast, feeling her hands wrap around your waist again, her phone held by your chest as her chin rests on your shoulder, leaning over you. “Your little friends saw my story of you. Think by now they get the message.” She smirks and you giggle, turning your head to kiss her on the cheek.

“I think so too.”

“If not, I’ll just have to make it clearer, yeah? ‘ll fuck you infront of ‘em if that’s what it takes.”

Your eyes widen as she backs off, going to help you plate up the big breakfast you’d made. You didn’t think that would be necessary anymore, feeling much more secure now but your achey, abused core twitched at the idea anyway— not totally against it.

You’ll pocket that for later.

i’m dizzy…

this with cowboy!abby ooouuughhhhh

i want to weep i want this i want her please please

abby anderson who takes you on little drives when your anxiety is at an all time high. she’ll put pillows and blankets into the backseat for you, child lock on the doors so you don’t worry about opening them as you rest your head against them. she usually goes fast, but she keeps her car at a much more reasonable pace, avoiding obstacles in the road as much as she can. she turns the ac up so you’re not too hot under your blanket, turning around every once in a while to check on you. if she thinks you’re sleeping, she doesn’t say a word. if she knows you’re awake, she’ll place one of her large hands on your thigh, rubbing it to let you know she’s here for you. “are you okay, baby?” she’ll ask as she does. she also plays soft music, mainly by artists she knows you like, another stark contrast to what she usually does when she’s driving, which is blast loud music. abby loves you so, so much. and the extra gas money is beyond worth it.

LOOK AT HER DUDE I NEED TO SMOOCH THIS WOMAN Y’ALL.