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#Abby is friend-shaped
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May I politely suggest Abby (Wii Sports) as someone who is friend-shaped?
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Abby is friend-shaped!
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berryblu-soda · 2 months
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your trademark is: axolotls and a plethora of lovely OC's and beautiful art!
(Unsure if that's a specific enough trademark, but it's what I think of when I think of you!! <3<3<3<3 )
ABBY!!!! oh heck yeah my brand is going strong then >:3!!!!! *cheering and celebrating *so* hard!!!! TYYYYY TvT <3<3<3<3<3!!!!!!!
yeye that counts as a trademark :>!!!!
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moonlightperseus · 27 days
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Every time you post something I think "wow you seem so cool I wish we could be besties" and then keep going so fun fact you appear to be friend shaped to the passerby
this is one of the nicest things anyone has had ever said to me ty so much 🥺
pls feel free to drop by my inbox anytime, i love making new friends but i am so bad at it bc i’m so awkward
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hybridirl · 3 months
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who first?
18+ only, please!
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ellie x f!loser!reader x abby
a/n: sorry for the long wait! i was with my family the past week celebrating a holiday :)!! now i’m back and i’m gonna try and pump out a few. i am in fact working on the ellie x loser!reader pt2, so pls bear with me! i’m still thinking up ideas. this shit is harddd
brief summary: ellie and abby are the bestest of friends, and you’re… there. they kinda feel bad for you, so they bring home some of the “good shit” for a game. never have i ever? with shots. reversed. haven’t done it? drink!!!
tw / AU, *DUBCON* (reader is drunk (but so is ellie and abby)), strap-on, use of y/n, cunnilingus (r and e receiving), tit-slapping, porn no plot, rushed sex, threesome, reader gets referred to as “girl”
ᡣ𐭩
watching tiktoks for hours on end was never your proudest pastime, especially when your two roommates were constantly out partying. you, honestly, were a third wheel. well, to be fair, you came into this friendship way after these two had already been established as this inseparable duo. still, being a friend - even if it’s not as deep - doesn’t mean you should be excluded from their little activities.
so, this is how your night has gone so far: moping around, trying to bake some cookies you found on tiktok, and binging tiktok. you sat on the island of the kitchen, a frown plastered on your face as you munched on your fifth cookie.
you glanced at the clock: 11:35 PM. you knew exactly what this meant; one of them is slutting themselves out while the other waits to drive themselves home. god, how it aggravated you! - how easily they could get into someone’s pants by just looking at them while you had to ease your way into it. that slow, smooth talking you, except it rarely ever worked and you came off as a creep. the pickup lines from reddit don’t seem to work in reality, huh?
pulling yourself off the counter and shoving the last piece of cookie into your mouth, you wondered why you stayed up until they came back. maybe you were just a little afraid to go to sleep alone, maybe you were just simply lonely. you wanted them to come home, tell you about their day and get envious at their friendship that you weren’t in on and that you didn’t have. poor you. you were like a watchdog, always staying up and looking out until your ‘owners’ came along, praising you for your good work so you could get your little dopamine rush. you even whimpered, just a little, as you sat on the couch to watch some cheesy drama movie that you had zero interest in. about thirty minutes in, the door opens. you turn your head and watch your two acquaintances walk in, both holding a suspiciously shaped brown bag.
“hey,” you greet, “what’re those?” you pointed toward the bags in their hands.
“just stuff for you,” ellie chirped first, setting the bag on the coffee table.
“us, she means,” abby cut in, setting hers down. you watched as they revealed what was shielded from her viewing: two tall bottles of ‘devil’s spring vodka.’
you cocked your head to the side and spoke, “for us? what for?” they gave you a ‘what do you think?’ look before ellie headed off to get three shot glasses. she placed one in front of you, abby, and herself.
“so, y/n,” abby began, popping the top and pouring some into each glass. “we know you’re lonely and we thought we’d do something for you, huh? sound good?” you pursed your lips and nodded, completely weirded out by this interaction.
“we’re gonna play a game,” ellie said, circling her glass with her hands. “it’s like ‘never have i ever.’ ever played?” you nodded. “good. so, each time someone says something you haven’t done, you take a shot. got it?” you nod again. “a—lright, you guys ready?” abby smiles and raises her hand.
“i’ll go first,” she told, an obvious mischievous glint in her eye, “let’s start of tame. so, y/n, have you ever… kissed someone in public? i’m not talking a little peck, i’m talking seriously making out.” your face heated, and your jaw dropped just slightly. you thought about lying, of course, just to seem cool, but, you knew they’d know.
“i-i… no, i haven’t,” you muttered out, shakily reaching your hand toward your glass. you took a sip, wincing at the burn in your throat.
“c’mon, y/n, the whole thing,” ellie chuckled at your ministrations. you whimpered silently before your head tilted back, gulping the rest down.
“ugh,” you groaned as you set it down and watched as ellie pour more into your glass. you had a feeling this was going to be a long night.
“okay, my turn,” ellie giggled, looking at the two of you. “okay, y/n, have you ever… had someone motorboat you?” your brows furrowed immediately.
“m-motorboat? i, well, um… no.”
“drink up then, girl.” they watched as you took another brave shot, your face contorting into what looked like pain, and, to be fair, it was painful.
you were about to speak, for your turn, but abby interrupted quickly, barely even noticing your open mouth, “my turn, huh?” abby questioned. your jaw shut right back up, letting her take the lead. letting her do her thing. “so, y/n, ever, i don’t know, let’s get a little crazier with this one, yeah? ever been in a threesome?”
you stared at abby with wide eyes, why are they asking you this stuff? why only you?
“no…” you whispered, continuing your stare on her as you went to take yet another shot. you were already starting to feel a buzz, already starting to feel the heat in your tummy. with a slightly clouded head, you turned to ellie. she was smirking, her eyes knowing as her lips parted once more.
“how about you give it a go?” ellie asked you, and you felt some relief.
“h-have you guys ever, um… have you guys ever… had a threesome?” you asked in a low voice. you watched abby roll her eyes and go to grab her glass, as with ellie.
“o—kay, my turn,” ellie clasped her hands together, after setting her glass back down, “ever taken it up the ass, y/n?”
“why are you only asking me?” you gawked, reaching for your glass. you took the next shot, and felt a sudden need for more.
“because we already know what we’ve did,” abby replied, another shot of the vodka slithering down her throat. “mm, that’s some good shit. so, y/n, have you ever topped?” you sighed as you reached for the glass once more. “oh, so you’re a bottom? figures. i mean, look at you.” you looked up at her, slightly offended whilst your hands went to pour yourself another shot.
“have you guys ever, uh, had public… sex?” you found yourself boldly asking, obvious that this drink was getting to you. they both raised their glasses to their lips.
this went on and on, mostly them asking you, you sometimes asking them until you were all drunk out of your minds.
“y/n,” ellie finally groaned and she scooted closer to you. you hadn’t realized the proximity of them both, slowly decreasing as the night went on. you hummed a response, your eyes half closed and your face hot. “h’ve you ever, uh, fantasized? about us?” ellie asked, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth. your hand didn’t reach for the glass, rather you simply stared into those green eyes. “yeah? you have? why didn’t you tell us? we coulda’ made all of your dreams come true, sweetheart,” she whispered, her hand meeting your waist.
“i-i was n-nervous,” you whined, “didn’ wanna say anythin’…”
“y/n, baby,” abby purred into your ear, “you don’ gotta be nervous ‘round us.” your head throbbed as you bit your lip; their hands explored your body, slowly molding you into your arousal. you wondered if this was their plan all along as their fingers danced around your PJs, caressing your inner thighs…
“please,” you whispered and their eyes flickered toward you. “…t-touch me…” you sighed blissfully as ellie’s hand finally met with your pajama-clad vulva. abby’s head dipped into the crook of your neck; she kissed up your neck and throat, then tilted your head toward hers to kiss your lips. sloppily, her tongue slipped into your mouth, prodding and massaging your tongue. your own mingled with hers, dancing around each other’s. you barely noticed your bottoms being tugged down, only realizing once the chill of the air hit your heat.
“lemme taste ‘er first,” abby said quickly as she pulled away from your swollen lips.
“no,” ellie whined, tugging your body toward hers.
“it was my idea,” she growled in return, “now let me have her first.” ellie huffed, but let go. she took asylum in your breasts; lifting your shirt up, she immediately dove into your mounds. she licked up to your nipple, taking it between her lips. you let out a broken moan as she nibbled on your sensitive bud, her tongue swirling around your pebbling nipples.
abby slid your legs open with her hands, spreading your labia with her thumb.
“how long h’ve you been this wet, y/n?” an obvious rhetorical question. you were too occupied with ellie and the worship of your breasts.
“a’w-while,” you managed to croak, though. you heard her chuckle and felt your body being tugged toward her more. “mmf, abby, be gentle…” ellie watched as abby’s head dipped between your legs, then her eyes flickered to your face to watch it contort in pleasurable expressions. “abby… ngh…” your hand reached to tug at her blonde hair, earning a groan from her lips.
“i heard she’s a p-pro,” ellie whispered to you while she tugged off her bottoms. your eyes fluttered, staring dazed at the sight of her pussy.
“want,” you purred out. ellie only smirked at you, her hands moving in to shove you down onto the couch. her legs straddled your head and she lowered herself onto you without warning, virtually smothering you. “mmf!” your brows were furrowed, your nose smooshed against her wet cunt. she ground her hips into your face, covering it in her slick.
“c’mon, y/n, thought you wanted it.” your doe eyes kept gazing up at her and you began to do the best you could with her weight in your face, your tongue working hard against her swollen clit.
both of the feelings were intoxicating, abby at your pussy, you at ellie’s. your legs tightened around abby’s head as her fingers found your g-spot, thrusting her fingers in and out of you. you moan into ellie, slurping at the nectar leaking from her. you’re so intoxicated, you can’t tell if it’s from the alcohol or this delicious feeling. your hands gripped ellie’s sides and you pulled her closer. you were whimpering, moaning, abby’s tongue wriggling into you, her fingernails digging into your plush thighs.
“mmm!” you cried, your eyes shutting as you felt a knot in your stomach begin to uncoil, your juices coating abby’s tongue and face.
“ahn, yeah,” abby groaned. “righ’ on my tongue, sweethear’.” your eyes were rolling, face scrunched in pleasure. it was a sure sight for ellie, drawing - no, forcing ellie’s own climax to follow suit. her arousal painted you, creaming on your face as she held your head close to her.
“oh, god, please please please — fuck!”
she ground against you, riding her orgasm out in your face. her clit bumped your nose, and your hands gripped her hips, slowly guiding her to a halt as she came down. as she got up from you, she took a moment to admire her work. your face looked so exhausted, wet with her, and needy for more.
“abby,” ellie said, “g-go get the…” she gestured into the direction of the bedrooms, then abby knew what she was talking about. she made her way into one the bedrooms, who knows which, and rummaged through. you watched the hallway curiously, ready for her arrival. you tried to sit up, but ellie only grabbed you, laying you down on her thighs. when abby came out, you were surprised to find her pant-less, and with a harness strapped to her person, not to mention a dildo hanging from it. she approached, slow and cautious steps. you couldn’t tell if she was trying to tease you or try to get you into the idea.
“you wan’ it?” she asked you, slowly crawling into the sofa, then nudging and prodding your wetness with the head.
“wan’ it.”
“alrigh’, sweet girl,” she breathed, easing the head into your slippery entrance. “good?” you nodded your head, egging her on silently.
“abby,” you moaned breathlessly. she shushed you, halting her movements so you could get used to her. she ran her rough hands down your sides, down, down, to your clit, gently rubbing it to make you feel some sort of goodness as she stood still. “move, please,” you whimpered.
“y/n, you should see ‘yer face right now,” ellie giggled, caressing the side of your head. “god, y’so pretty. fuck ‘er, abby, hurry. look at ‘er face.” abby rolled her eyes, not usually taking commands. she was going to anyway, but…
“oh!” you gasped from her sudden movements, a tight snap from her hips. “f-fuck!”
“mmm, ‘n moans so pretty,” ellie praised, “didn’ get to hear ‘ya so well when you were under me. gettin’ smothered by my pussy... mhm…” she caressed your face again, cupping your cheeks as abby began to pound you.
“abby!” you cried to her, eyes shut tight, hands flailing to find somewhere to rest. they found abby’s biceps, gripping them tightly as she slapped her hips against yours. “please, ngh!” you grit your teeth, jaw clenched while pleasure overtook you.
“eyes open,” abby growled, “‘n on me.” you had to fight yourself to open your eyes, but the sight in front of you was perfect. abby’s blonde hair sticking to her forehead, her braid dangling and swinging with each thrust, her slack jaw, fuck. “yeah, ‘atta girl.” she was thrusting just right, obviously so experienced. it was pleasing her, too, the strap hitting just right at her swollen clit.
how badly you wanted to touch her body, worship her like you did quietly with her eyes. she was like a greek god, muscular and sculpted so perfectly. especially now, sweat marbling her skin and her chiseled body over yours. you almost forgot ellie was there, being as (almost) quiet as she was. glancing up, you caught sight of her, her fingers buried into her cunt. the sight alone was enough to make you cum once more, but you couldn’t, not so early. you looked back up at the deity above you who was staring into your eyes.
“abby,” you groaned. you threw your head back, going dumb on her cock. “right there… f-please…” cross-eyed, you sobered up a little as you felt a harsh pain on your breasts. “oh!” you gasped, feeling her large hand slap your chest. “abby!”
“take my cock, girl,” abby panted, hands squeezing your breasts, using them as leverage as she continued her pounding.
“fu—ck,” ellie groaned to the sight of you and to the noise of her fingers in her cunt, squelching, obscene, and loud. “y’doing so good, y/n… yes… uhn!”
you ran your hand up abby’s biceps, wrapping your arms around her neck. this prompted her to lean in and kiss your lips, deep and hungry. your hand cupped her cheek, pulling her close while your lips collided. abby pulled away first to admire your body and you took this moment to lift your arms above your head, desperately trying to pull ellie closer by her legs. she scoot closer and you cocked your head to the side, immediately licking at her cunt.
“yeah,” abby moaned, feeling the beginnings of her orgasm. “lick ‘er fuckin’ pussy.” she gripped your waist, hurriedly thrusting into you, her clot bumping against the harness. “fuck, i’m cumming!” she moaned, collapsing onto you as she came. she kissed at your neck, bit at it, too, while she continued to thrust, needing you to cum, too. her fingers finding your clit, furiously rubbing it.
you couldn’t help it anymore; biting into ellie’s thigh, you came. squirted, actually. all over her cock, all over her abdomen. your body was convulsing, shaking and twitching for her. ellie followed in suit, your teeth pushing her over the edge as they sunk deeper into her. all three of you were moaning, crying, holding each other tight.
“fuck,” you were the first to say. abby slowly pulled out of you, panting deeply.
“you squirted,” abby chuckled with admiration. she squeezed your thighs and glanced up at ellie, “all good?” she asked. ellie nodded.
“yeah, just,” she sighed blissfully, “fuck. we should do this again.” you giggled and kissed ellie’s thigh.
“mhm,” you agreed.
maybe your (sex?) life has just changed for the better.
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yvesntul · 8 days
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abby fingering you hard till your crying and begging her to stop but she won't until you squirt multiple times
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fingering, squirting, slight overstimulation, crying, begging, abby being a lil meanie also short asfk
‘ abs, please, ‘ you mewled, pushing your head against your girlfriend’s chest. ‘ fuck babe— listen to that, you hear how fucking wet you are ? ‘ she groaned into your ear, her fingers thrusting into you at an unforgiving speed. ‘ t’s too much .. ‘ your hand wrapped around her wrist in a poor attempt to stop her. ‘ if you do that one more time i’m not gonna stop until you’re crying. ‘ your thighs closed around abby’s hand, a whimper falling from your lips as you shook in her hold.
abby cursed, pulling her fingers out of your sopping cunt in order to force your legs open. ‘ maybe next time you’ll remember to watch that fucking mouth of yours. ‘ her fingers plunged inside of you once more, eliciting a moan from both of you. the way her fingers were curling inside of you, paired with her thumb rubbing your clit, it wasn’t long before you were seeing stars, your soaked pussy fluttering around her as you fell over the edge of pure euphoria.
she didn’t make any effort to slow her movements down, actually doing the opposite until the wet squelches of your cunt became too much for you to handle. ‘ abby wait ! i think i— ‘ abby covered your mouth, a smile forming on her lips as her hand muffled your scream. you felt the wet sensation before you saw the mess, your girlfriend trailing sloppy kisses in the curve of your neck. ‘ shhh .. i got u right here, ‘ abby finally started easing you through the after shocks of your orgasm, her hand coming to a stop.
you had tears running down your cheeks at this point, your chest rising and falling with each breath. ‘ what was it that you said to ellie again ? ‘ take me home since abby doesn’t want to. ‘ ‘ she scoffed, moving from behind you and laying you on hee pillows. ‘ how do you think that sounds, hmm ? how do you think i feel when i hear my girl asking my friend to take her home ? ‘ abby hovered above you, her wet fingertips tracing shapes on your inner thighs.
you shook your head, cupping her face as she stared down at you with the darkest gaze you’ve ever seen. ‘ abs .. i won’t do it again, i promise. just wanted to leave the party already .. ‘ abby nodded, everything you said going in one ear and out the other. ‘ well you got what you wanted, now you have to take it. ‘ without warning, she inserted her fingers again, making your body jolt at the sudden intrusion. ‘ you’re gonna give me two more. ‘ abby felt her breath stutter at your choked sob, your hysterics only turning her on even more.
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who want pt 2 bro
𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 © 𝐘𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐋 | all rights reserved — do not modify, copy, or plagiarize any of my works.
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abbyscherry · 13 days
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abby is so deedee coded (yk that couple from tiktok) . she’s just a silly goofy guy who loves loves loves her wife 🥹
anyway this is 100% stolen from one of their videos but every time you see a store that you love shopping in or just a store that has cute stuff abby pulls out her wallet without saying a word and hands it to you because she’s got that good lawyer money 🙈
daily click | palestine masterpost | important tlou post
she would !!
abby knows you. she truly knows you. so when you’re pulling your hands from hers, and making your way towards something that has gained your full attention, she’s looking at you, eyes shaped like hearts, something her friends are always telling her, she just chuckles. abby knows you more than you know yourself, so when she notices the way your eyes are looking over a new bracelet, she doesn’t hesitate to wrap her arm around your waist, pulling you into her side slightly. always possessive of you no matter where you are, and she presses a kiss to your cheek. “do you like it?” she mumbled, using her thumb and rubbing your side slowly. 
“s’cute, expensive though” you huffed and simply walked away towards another window display.
leaving abby looking over at you, and back at the bracelet you were eyeing up a few times. you were indecisive. always. so she does what she does best, steps right into the little store while you are looking over the different assortment of sunglasses. ignoring how much it cost completely. oblivious to the fact your girlfriend was no longer near you, or in sight of you.
“abby, i think you’d look— abby?” you paused, turning around, eyes flickering over different people around you and huffing again. she had clearly found something that caught her attention and forgot to tell you.
and when you do spot her making her way towards you after a few minutes of standing there looking like a lost puppy, you can’t help but sigh when you notice the small gift bag in her hand. “abby” you groaned, almost stopping your foot.
“baby” she mockingly yet playfully groaned back. “you said you liked it” she shrugged, tucking her card into her jacket pocket.
“i do like it, but it’s expensive,” you frowned, an involuntary pout resting on your lips. eyes sparkling when she holds the bag out for you.
“for my queen. c’mon, take it please. i don’t care how much it cost. i’d buy you whatever you want” abby chuckled, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. happy when you take the gift bag from her hands with a final huff.
“thank you” you mumbled, resting your head on her shoulder. inhaling her scent pine body wash and cuddling into her. “i love you”
“i love you most, baby”
let’s not forget when you’re both hand in hand and walk past a lingerie shop, and she instantly, yet practically shoves her credit card into your hands. face flushed a crimson red when she looks over at you. “go on. get whatever you want” she stammered out, scratching the back of her neck. 
“are you nervous?” you teased, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. 
“me? no never, angel. go on” 
cannot think straight whatsoever when she watches you shrug, walk into the store and smirk over your shoulder at her. cheeks even a darker red the longer her baby blue eyes trail over different pieces that she knows would look good on you.
even when abby has to go away on work trips, and she can’t be there for your annual day shop that she secretly loves doing with you, she is always thinking about you. so when you message her one night that you’re going out with your friends for a meal and won’t be responding for a while, it’s not unusual for her to randomly send you money with a text along the lines of ‘get whatever you want, baby. i can’t wait for you to show me what you’ve bought when i’m home’. of course, it still catches you off guard when you open the notification that abby has sent you more money, you continuously thank her over and over again. even if you have your own, she still loves to spoil you.
she’s your sugar mommy <3
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d3arapril · 8 months
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nsfw modern!abby headcanons
you (1 person) ask.. i deliver. i love abby with my whole heart and i’m excited to share my thoughts <3 feedback is appreciated!
nsfw, 18+ only! mdni pls!
so let’s start with this, abby is a huge softie. we’ve all seen part 2, she’s SO caring and just wants her loved ones to be safe 😔 argue with the wall .
abby ✂️ loves ✂️ to ✂️ scissor.. she loves being skin on skin and feeling close to you
she’ll massage your leg as she holds it up on her shoulder, thin hairs falling from her braid and framing her face as she bites her lip and tries to keep her noises down bc she only wants to hear u and the wet noises ur both making
she also likes to pin ur wrists above ur head with one hand and if she’s feeling evil she’ll lift up a little, spit down onto your pussy and bend her arm around so she can fit 3 fingers into ur pussy whilst she’s grinding her clit into yours &lt;3 “you’re so greedy, baby…”
honestly shes kinda quiet during sex… she’ll utter words of praise every now and then but she mostly just whimpers/grunts and swears under her breath. think of the noises she makes when she’s feeling scared of heights heheiehie
but when she does use the strap 😮‍💨 GOLLY she likes when u go on top so she can just put her hands behind her head, lay back and watch u work for it
she also tried to nonchalantly flex and u cant help but laugh, ur movements faltering.. “abby stop fucking flexing you’re distracting me” “what’re you talking about? this is all natural babe 😏”
abs loves boobies <3 any size any shape she’s quite literally eating them up
u could both just be chilling in bed reading a book and she’ll have a hand up ur top just resting on ur boob, slightly calloused fingers moving to pinch ur nipple every so often.. she struggles to turn her page with just one hand.. u both give up on reading and get crafty ✂️ (if u know what i mean…sorry i’ll leave)
speaking of reading, u go down on her whilst she’s reading and challenge her to read aloud whilst you give her the best head of her life. she ripped a couple of pages in the book from gripping it so hard when she came. she got sad cos it was her favourite :( u got her a new copy :)
abby listens to classical music right? if she’s adamant on taking it slow and appreciating every inch of you she will have music on in the background. it’ll be pretty quiet but it helps her focus
ABBY FILMS IT 🗣️ (consensually. obviously) she likes to film when ur on top, films when you go down on her, props her phone up at the end of the bed and sits with her back to the headboard and your back pressed against her chest as she pulls the fourth orgasm out of you… “damn, should’ve put a towel down..” she whispers into ur ear, just low enough for the crappy microphone on her old iphone to not pick up
she watches the videos back whenever you’re apart and always bites her lip til it bleeds when shes watching that video and the screen becomes slightly blurry and those wet shlick noises from ur pussy grow louder and louder
she’ll facetime u straight after and politely ask u to recreate.. which u happily do
jerks it when she’s eating it 🤝 girlie finds so much pleasure in making u feel good and she can’t help herself.. moaning into ur pussy and begging you to come for her
wants to fuck on the couch/floor/literally anywhere other than the bed if you’ve got new sheets on the bed, modern abby is clean and tidy and get’s frustrated if her fresh sheets are dirtied
if she’s been to the gym she won’t let u touch her until she’s showered. you insist that u don’t care but she REFUSES bc she’s paranoid about being stinky
speaking of… one place she does love to fuck? THE SHOWER 🚿🚿🚿 its clean, wet and fun. what more could she want
takes u out for dinner, fucks u til ur makeup is smudged and you can’t stand all whilst not fully undressing each other and then u both get in the shower and the shower head becomes both of ur best friend :)
until the morning after when abby wakes up early to have a shower and almost has a heart attack when the high pressure setting almost rips the skin off her back
ok i can easily write more because i love abby and tbh i probably will….
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elsweetheart · 1 year
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crystal champagne glasses — bodyguard!abby au
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synopsis: when reader, the millionaires daughter can’t help but misbehave — Abby the no nonsense bodyguard is hired to live in the mansion.
♪ every man gets his wish — lana del rey (unreleased) ♪
cw: fem reader, mentions of money / money problems, overprotective parents, mentions of loss of a parent (not reader), daddy issues lol, sprinkle of mommy issues too, alcohol and drinking, tiny mention of being sick, reader working out mentions, brat tamer abby lol, size kink, reader cries and gets humiliated and angry a lot lol, degradation, masturbation, strap on sex, think that’s it?
an: i had so much fun writing this! this is the quickest i’ve ever written a fic, i think because i’ve been excited to write this one and planning it for ages! now, if you don’t like my writing please click off now. no one is forcing you to read my fics. to all the people who have been excited for this fic, ily and i hope you enjoy it! as always, minors + ageless blogs do not interact with this or any posts / fics of mine. you will be blocked! ♡
You weren’t a princess. You were not a princess. You wished you were, shit — maybe your parents would actually care about you. Unfortunately though, there was no royalty behind your name. Just two millionaire parents who would apparently rather be anywhere else but at home with you.
You had your own hobbies, friends, a life — back at home. But of course, if you had so much as wanted to leave the mansion to partake in such activities, such as socialising (God forbid!) you’d need an escort, a driver, secret security officers stalking you, creeping out all of your friends and more. After a while it just became… not worth it. So you stopped showing up, stopped hanging out with people — and understandably, your invite to meeting up with friends started to get supposedly lost in the post. Things get lonely fast.
Bitterness was hardly the word for it. You understood your circumstances and if you were anything it wasn’t ungrateful. Your father only wanted you to be safe, hence the dozens of hired body guards in and out (But you’ll get back to that in a moment, of course.) Your friends just assumed you didn’t wanna hang out anymore, hence the missed invites. You had only started misbehaving out of bitterne— no, not bitter. Pissed off. Rightfully.
You always felt dread when you saw the answer machine light up red with a new message from the only person who had the number — your father. Where on Earth could he be calling from this time? Perhaps lounging by the pool in Greece or dining at a rooftop garden in Dubai — experiencing the world and bravely taking a moment out of his incredibly busy day to drop you a patronising and vaguely threatening voicemail. Atleast he spoke to you, unlike your mother who’d much rather pretend you didn’t exist because, and you quote, the stress of your misbehaviour ‘gave her wrinkles.’ Your manicured finger hovered over the button before pressing down, huffing out your nose as you stared out at the morning fog over the grassy hills of your land.
‘Good morning darling, dad calling again. You keep missing my calls, which I assume is on purpose so I’m leaving you a message anyways. I’m currently in Amsterdam with your mother and I just caught wind of Malakai the bodyguard quitting ‘suddenly and abruptly’ according to one of the maids. I’ve told you once and I will tell you again, if you don’t stop harassing the guards and forcing them to quit you will be in serious trouble. I mean cut off completely, sent off to work in the city with no more than a shitty little apartment and no money. So, I have decided to give you one last chance. I’ve purchased a bodyguard to live in with you starting Sunday morning so you’re going to have to fend for yourself until then. I searched high and low for this one, apparently they specialise in poorly behaved brats like yourself — so I’m hoping if anything that will whip you into shape. You’ve been through five bodyguards this year and it’s February. I’m serious about my threats. Step a foot out of line and you’re done, your mother and I are deadly serious. I will be calling the new hire at the end of next week to check in on your behaviour. Do not let us down darling, you will regret it. Okay, that’s all. See you when I see you.’
You smile.
Oh, how sometimes things just worked out. A life of your own, with normality and struggle and freedom — no watchful eye breathing down your neck and no lack of purpose weighing down on you. Your father had presented you with the easiest task, piss off the new hire so that you’d be set free. A task you’d grown to perfect, having done so time and time again.
The crackle of wheels on the gravel path leading up to the mansion awakens you on the Sunday morning. You want to grumble, having gotten literally no sleep. You see, you were terribly afraid of the dark — and you couldn’t sleep without your guard having light the fire in the fireplace of your bedroom (The one use you found for the hired help.) You had no idea how to light it and didn’t trust yourself not to burn the house down — so you went without. Hence the awful nights sleep. Where were you? Yes, curious. Rudely awakened and curious.
Your short nightie does nothing to combat the cool morning chill as you get up from the bed, letting your bed covers slide off your body as you traipse over to your window. A black Range Rover, they’re all the same. All the same angry men that drive the same angry car, with the same angry build and the same angry face. You scoff at the memory of your fathers threat on the voice message, stating that this guard was to be anything you weren’t used to before. You knew it wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle.
Except, you were caught off guard when the door opens. You watch a woman climb out the car, despite the vehicles spacious design she still seemed to unfold like she was inflatable as she climbed out — almost seeming too big for even a car like that. She was built, strong arms and chest, tree trunk thighs and veiny hands. You narrow your eyes at the black sunglasses perched on the bridge of her jagged nose, taking them off as she looks around with a serious expression. She was attractive, you’d admit — but in a way that made you cross. That stupid skin tight black t-shirt and black cargos and thick weighty belt around her waist told you everything you needed to know about her. The militant type, she was going to try and intimidate you with her seriousness. You smirk, seeing this as a challenge. She has no idea what she’s up against.
You rush down the spiral stairs at the sound of her lugging her bags inside. She flicks her braid over her shoulder to glance at you standing there analytically as she does so, biceps bulging as she lifts the heavy black cases into the centre of your foyer stood beneath the chandelier. She looked much too harsh for somewhere delicate like this.
“I take it you aren’t going to introduce yourself.” She speaks after a moment of sorting her bags, closing the front door to signify she was done bringing her things inside. You cling to the tall bannister, toeing the cold pristine marble floor, eyeing her and her things as if each bag had a bomb inside. She stands up to her full height, atleast breaching the 6ft margin and you squint, watching her stretch her arms to relieve herself from the weight of the bags. “Off to a great start already.” She retorts as you ignore her, her long legs stepping over a black duffle bag on the floor toward you.
“Why are your bags so heavy?” You ask quietly, less curious and more judgemental. Who did she think she was moving in here with all that stuff? She takes a long inhale, accenting the muscle in her chest as she places her hands on her hips. Her reply is calm and unbothered.
“I brought my weights with me, and lots of other things I need to stay in my condition. Do you have a name?” Her voice is velvety and more feminine than you expected. Your stomach gets hot and prickly at the sound.
“You know my name. I can bet anything my father told you everything about me infact.” You jut your chin up stubbornly. It’s her turn to analyse now, tilting her head a little to the side as she leans on her hip, eyeing you once over and then again.
“Yeah. Your dad was kind enough to tell me all about you and how you treated your past bodyguards. But when you first meet someone, you introduce yourself. So introduce yourself.” There is a slight bite to your tone and your eyes flutter a bit. You’re used to men being agitated with you, infact you thrive off it— but you’ve never had a woman guard before. Something about the harsh tone hurt you just that little more. Shit, maybe you just had mommy issues.
You mutter your name, eyes laser focused on her clinging to the last shred of dignity you had — but when she gives you a curt nod and an equally quiet ‘There you go’ it perishes in the wind like a dying leaf crumbling away for winter. She turns, looking around at her bags before reaching over for the smallest one. “I’m Abby. As you probably guessed, I’m your new bodyguard.” She walks over to you and holds out the bag. You look at her and then at the bag, and then back at her.
“What am I supposed to do with this, Abby?” You cross your arms with a raised brow.
“You’re gonna carry it to my new room for me. I’m a guest in your home.” She raises her eyebrows, waving the bag infront of you signally for you to take it.
You stare at her in disbelief, before laughing bitterly. “You’re right. You’re a guest in my home. So I’m not carrying shit.” You spin on your heel to stomp up the stairs, but she cuts you off by speaking calmly yet firmly.
“Then you can sleep in the dark.”
You turn back around slowly, wearing a frown that creases your brow. How did she know about that?
“I spoke to some previous guards of yours. Said you were terrified of the dark and needed a fire lit in your room every night. Y’wanna sleep in dark? Or you wanna help me carry my bags?”
You stare her down for a moment, weighing out your options. She’d already dominated the conversation by getting your name out of you so easily, and now she was winning again. However, you were exhausted just from one night of restlessly pacing with your light on — too afraid to turn it off and go to sleep. You needed your sleep. That being said, you scowl and snatch the bag from her hand, the leather of it slapping against your leg as you carry it up the spiral stairs.
“Atta girl.”
You clench your jaw.
The week begins, and as do your antics. Abby wasn’t easily wound up, but that only made you want to go ten times harder. She was a bodyguard, not a babysitter — but she was starting to feel like her duties were beginning to cross wires. She knew your game, knew you were aiming for something — she could see the determination in your eyes everytime you’d sass her back. So, she’d play you back. Not give into what you want.
Her first real duty came on a Wednesday when she was lounging in the living room watching some God awful 2000s police chase show, and in came you — tottering on little heels and a skirt so short and tight she could tell the colour of your thong beneath. Not that she was looking, of course.
She leant her arm on the back of the couch, eyes flitting over you as you rummage for the keys that you were sure had been left by the maid on the coffee table. “Going somewhere?” It comes out nearly as a scoff, smirk etched onto her face and it makes you roll your eyes.
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Out with my friends. The ones that still talk to me.” You’re distracted, pulling your small handbag back up onto your shoulder when it slides off, free hand feeling around in a decorative bowl for the key set. Abby stares at you for a moment, which — okay, is a little indulgent. She wasn’t being a creep, she could just appreciate that you looked good. Before you could turn to throw a glare her way she was muttering an ‘alright’ and heaving her heavy, toned body up to stand and stretch.
You turn and look at her questioningly and she stops to return your gaze. “What? You think I’m just living here with you for fun? C’mon, if you wanna go let’s go.” She nods towards the door, but stops after a few steps when she hears you snicker.
“No thanks. I’m a big girl.”
She crosses her arms and the smirk that makes you wanna throw darts at her stupid face returns. “That right? You think daddy just hired me to hang out around the house, then?”
You stare at her, pursing your lips before exhaling through your nose wordlessly — walking towards the door in defeat. You just wanted to go out, it had been so long. You’re sure you could just ignore Abby.
She follows behind you, now swinging her car keys round her finger — so smug. “How were you planning on getting to the club? You live in the middle of nowhere.”
“Uber.”
It’s her turn to snicker, opening the front door for you and standing aside as you walk through. “Yeah. Okay. C’mon.”
Screw her. Because now, for some reason she was in your head.
Maybe you just had a few… weaknesses. You always liked your girls on the masc side, on the buff side — but that was a given. Who isn’t attracted to that, right? However, watching hot girls drive was something else, and Abby was being that something else. You know— hand on the back of your seat when she reverses, bicep bulging when she grips the wheel of her sleek car, the lights of the night time traffic illuminating the way her top lip curled upwards a little and bottom lip pouted. You felt a little relief, knowing it was one hundred percent the wine talking. The wine you’d probably drank a little too much of whilst you were getting ready, playing your music and singing along loudly just hoping it was annoying Abby (It wasn’t, she didn’t even hear.)
Ignoring her would start after the car journey you decided.
And you did, for the most part. Abby gave you your space, sitting a few seats away from your group whilst you had your fun — headache inducing squeals and brain numbing chatter over loud music and strong cocktails not quite interesting the blonde. She was driving, and working — so she couldn’t drink, just sat there all night bored out of her mind. She probably should have been monitoring how many drinks you’d had over the night, because soon you were stumbling off your seat to go and dance— and Abby’s hands were itching to pull your skirt down just a little, the hem climbing up to the swell where your thighs meet your ass. She sits back, just watching. She was here to protect you, not be your personal wardrobe malfunction manager — so that’s what she’d do. Sit back and protect.
God, did you always dance like this when you went out?
She felt her fist twitch on the table at the sight of your hips swirling, but she knew that was just a natural gay reaction. She should probably order you a glass of water, so you could sober up and tone down the sluttyness but she figured she’d let you have your fun for now— you may have been too far gone. Abby wished she was holding a beer or something whilst she stared across at the way you were grinding your ass into your friends crotch, the two of you giggling like idiots all hazy eyed from the liquor.
After a while you amble over to her, everything bouncing and spilling out but you clearly don’t give a fuck. Your guard is caught off guard when you come close, alcohol having decimated any concept of personal space as you lean over to speak to her where she’s sat, bent over with your hands splayed on her black jean clad thighs.
She tries to be subtle in the way she eyes you, her tongue peeping between her lips and eyes widening momentarily at the perfect shot of down your top. “I can’t hear you.” She yells over the music. You come closer and nearly topple onto her completely, Abby’s hands by nature resting on the back of your thighs as you now grip her shoulders. Briefly, she wonders if at a glance anyone thinks the two of you are a couple. She shakes it off ‘cos… you’re still a brat. Hot or not.
“I said, can I go to the bathroom or are you gonna follow me?” You pull back to make sure she’s seeing you attempt to pointedly raise an eyebrow at her, something you would have perfected usually if you were sober.
“Take a friend.” She nods to your most sober looking buddy and you shrug happily, pushing off her and grabbing your toilet partner and rushing off. She was kind of glad you were gonna be out of her sight for a moment, needing to cool off.
She wasn’t sure what happened after that. Abby was getting bored and tired, dropping the ball a little bit — and you must have been sneaking drinks from your friends when she wasn’t looking — because suddenly you were way too drunk, barely able to stand. Enough was enough when she watched you stumble over to the bar, heading to assumably get yourself another drink. Abby followed you, gently taking your arm and turning you around.
“Hey, no more. You’re blacked out.”
Your face screws up into this adorable little pout for a moment before the rage kicks in, brow creasing and fists clenching by your side.
“C’n dooo what I waant. Dompt tell meee what to do.” You thud her in the centre of her chest with your finger, slurring enough to the point where Abby was confident the bartender wouldn’t have served you anyway.
“No. Finish up, you need to go home.” She was stern, and as expected — this garnered the worst possible response, baring your teeth like a dog and digging your heels into the ground like you were about to pounce on her. You exploded into noise.
“Nnno! Fuck you you stupid securererty guard I can’t wait to get rid of youn’d be independent this is such buuullshi—” Your rampage was cut short by Abby sighing, squatting, and throwing you over her shoulder. Her free hand came up without thought, tugging your skirt down to not expose you to the world. You thrashed and yelled for a good ten seconds before giving in completely — by standers and your friends laughing as Abby marched you to the exit. You were asleep by the time she reached the car, and briefly woke up when she’d carried you to bed to demand her to light the fire place. The fear of the dark must have ran incredibly deep, interesting — she noted.
Abby thought that maybe you’d appreciate her cutting your drinks off and halting any further plans to embarrass yourself that night— but she came to learn that if she thought you were bad usually, you with a hangover was ten times worse. If waking up to the sounds of your loud upchuck wasn’t bad enough, you were a whiny, angry bitch relentlessly all day.
“I’m not your servant you know. Stop asking me to do things for you.” Abby walked in with a glass of water and Tylenol upon request, being met with a loud groan instead of a ‘thank you’.
“Do you have to fucking yell everything?” You complain, ironically — louder than her.
She was tired by the end of the day, beginning to wonder if the pay was enough to tolerate your brattiness. Abby had gained a reputation for dealing with difficult clients, perhaps diva-esque or ill-mannered, but often it wasn’t anything a stern talking to couldn’t fix, often intimidated by her height and build enough to shut them up after a few quips. You were effortlessly becoming one of, if not the most difficult and tiresome clients to crack, but she was determined. If Abby was anything, she wasn’t a quitter — which is why when your father called to check in on you, she told him you’d been good as gold, which earned her a glare from you when you’d overheard the whole thing on the way to the bathroom.
You were back to your regular level of shitty behaviour the next day, less whiny and more sarcastic and bitchy which she could tolerate. However, after a month had gone by Abby was finding the irritation harder and harder to control— especially since you had developed an ever so charming habit of putting on your headphones every single time Abby tried to tell you to do something or talk to you in general.
“Like I told you, I’m a bodyguard — not a babysitter. Stop leaving your—” She bounded into the room, stopping when she saw you look her in the eye and pull your headphones over your head, pressing play on your screen to start your music. Abby stares for a few seconds, taking a breath, telling herself to walk away. Be a bodyguard and nothing else. She ignores this, wound up— and moves to stand in front of you, clicking her fingers. Cheekily, you point to your headphones — mouthing a faux-apologetic ‘sorry!’. The blonde scoffs, wondering why she’s entertaining this in the first place and reaches up to yank the headphones off your head, but freezes at your sudden wide eyed yelp.
“Don’t touch me I’ll tell my dad and you’ll get fired!” It’s rambled out, fast and premeditated — like you’d thought of it already and had been waiting to put it to use. Abby glances down at your alight screen, noting the music as paused and wonders if you were ever playing music or was just doing this to bother her. She lowers her hand, because — well, she’s not an asshole — instead turning her palm upwards in gesture to hand them over.
“Headphones. Give them to me.”
“No.”
“Give them to me or I’m not lighting the fire in your room tonight.” She stares you down and you sulk, shoulders dropping and brows furrowing in devastation. Abby would have felt bad if you weren’t such a menace.
You stroppily yank the headphones off your head and hand them over, muttering profanities furiously under your breath as you turn away from her, sprawled on the couch. Your guard nods, disappearing to put them away before leaving you be — heading to the kitchen to make her afternoon smoothie. The sound of her chopping fruit sparked rage in you all over again at how at home she had made herself, and after a minute you were storming in again— bare feet slapping the cold tiles.
“Back for more?” Abby is calm now, content as she focuses on slicing into a banana.
“You can’t threaten me with my fears you know, that’s emotional and psychological abuse. You’re taking advantage of my fears to be in control like — like a coward. Trust me I studied psychology out of a book, I know my stuff.” You stand beside her ranting as she raises her eyebrows with a calm smile, nodding as she listens and finishes up chopping her fruit, beginning to load them into the— your blender.
“Oh? Smart girl then huh?” She teases and you huff, jutting your chin in the air confidently with an ‘mhm’ before hoisting yourself up onto the kitchen island counter, deciding to stick around for a while to pester her.
“Very. You could probably learn a thing or two from me.”
Abby twists her body half around in amusement, a mocking expression of being impressed adorning her attractive face. She closes the lid to the blender, keeping one hand on it as she speaks.
“‘That so? Go ahead, tell me what possibly I could learn from you, smart girl.”
Ignoring how ‘smart girl’ made you feel in your underwear, you only a manage a “Well first of all—” before she’s turned the blender on, the loud whirring masking any sound coming from you despite your attempts to yell over it for a few seconds. She nods teasingly, as if she was listening to what you were saying and you huff, giving up. You were usually a master in being annoying, but Abby was giving you a run for your money.
You hop back off the counter, muttering a ‘Big blonde stupid asshole.’ as you storm out the room and Abby lets go of the blend button, snickering to herself and yelling out a non committal ‘I heard that!’ after you.
The following day she had taken you to buy groceries after you’d complained that you’d wanted to do it yourself — Abby, following you around as you loaded up your cart, every so often remembering your duty to annoy her and hitting her with something along the lines of ‘I want my headphones back.’ which would be met with a disinterested ‘Tough luck.’ on her end. You couldn’t believe that she’d been living in your home for one month and you still hadn’t gotten under her skin. Perhaps that’s why the next day you’d let your guard down.
It was the first sunny day of March, the grassy hills in which the mansion sat on still harbouring that frosty bite to the air from winter — but pink blossoms had began to spring on the bushes and trees and the sky was blue, which instantly lifted your mood just that little bit.
You were curled by the large window that morning, still in your pyjamas and holding a mug beneath your chin, gazing out at the bright grass. When Abby had entered the room, she was surprised to hear you gently comment that “The weathers nice today.” — a rare sentence that wasn’t defying or insulting her. Abby looked over to you, noting your peaceful demeanour and deciding to carefully toe the line.
“Do you wanna… go outside today?” She suggested, something the two of them could possibly do together. She almost grimaced, waiting for you to curse her out like usual but instead you paused quietly for a few seconds before responding.
“I can introduce you to the horses.” With that, you hopped off the window seat and disappeared to get dressed. When you returned, your hair was in tidier condition and you wore a dress made for summer with only a thick knit cardigan over the top. She itched to tell you it was still way too cold to dress like that, but figured she didn’t wanna aggravate you before you’ve even made it out the door. Today was the day Abby would get through to you.
You were quieter than usual, assumably worn out and in higher spirits due to the sunshine. You’d received the horses as a gift on your sixteenth birthday — but due to the cold weather and outright depression you hardly rode them anymore, instead making sure they lived a healthy and luxurious life on your land and fed the best foods by their handler (mainly out of guilt.) Abby could tell you’d regret your outfit choice as the two of you walked along the pathway through the lush greenery outside, pulling your cardigan tighter around your body, head tilted as you watched the birds fly over the pond.
“What are your horses names?” She conversed lightly, stuffing her large hands into the pockets of her black bomber jacket.
“Cinnamon and blondie.” You answer quietly, before speaking up a few moments later. “Don’t judge the lack of creativity I was sixteen when I picked the names out.”
The pair of you reach the barn and she huffs a quiet chuckle out her nose, watching you pick up a brush as you approached the brown and blonde horses. “Hey, I think those names are perfectly fitting.”
She wasn’t sure why she wanted you to like her so badly all of a sudden. She partially thought it was because if you did you’d make her life and her job easier — but… no, it was more personal than that. You’d deprived her of seeing your pretty smile so much that she felt almost awestruck at the sight of your peaceful and joyful expression as you gently combed Cinnamons mane. She caught herself smiling as she watched.
The two of you talked. Like actually talked without hurling insults or rolling eyes. You sat on the hay, watching as she fed Blondie a carrot. Abby’s teeth were always so white and perfect, perfecting an already perfect smile. Perhaps you were in a good mood, because the thought of calling her perfect didn’t quite irritate you as much as it usually would.
“Have you even ridden a horse?” You’re still bashful about making regular conversation as you pluck at the hay from the bale you sit on.
“Nah.” She shucks off her jacket, the air in the barn balmier and muggier than the outside. It’s hard to not let your eyes flicker down to her strong arms, so you don’t deny yourself.
“Not even as a little girl?” You question and she chuckles a little.
“I didn’t have horse money.” There’s a pitch of longing behind her tone and you tilt your head, wondering about her upbringing. She senses your inquisition and glances up at you as she continues to stroke the horse. “I didn’t have much money for pretty much my whole life. It was actually why I got into the bodyguard industry. Good pay.” She shrugs one shoulder like it was nothing.
“Did you get to go to public school? Like in the city?” You lean forward with your elbows on your knees, chin balanced on your palms in intrigue. The way you said it sparked some amusement in her, ‘get to go to public school’. Like to you it was some sort of luxury.
“Yep. Got the bus everyday too.” Her eyebrow twitches up with a smirk, turning to walk towards you with her jacket in her hand. Whilst she expects you to pick up on her playful tone and perhaps roll your eyes, you continue to stare up at her in awe— an air of innocent curiosity around you that made her suddenly fight the urge to run a thumb over your cheek. She stood over you, placing her jacket by your side and you preened a little at how big she looked above you like that. Part of you felt mad at yourself for having developed a crush, knowing it was interfering with your plans — but you were touch starved. Really touch starved, so you allowed yourself a little yearning for your strict but not so strict bodyguard.
You clear your throat before speaking quietly. “You’re so lucky.”
At this, she scoffs, dropping down to sit beside you. Your skin felt a little warmer when her thigh pressed up next to yours.
“I wouldn’t say that. Would have traded lives with you in a heartbeat.”
You turn to her with a frown. “My life was boring. I didn’t get to do sneaky, crazy teenager things. I went to a small private school and had my small group of friends there and… we couldn’t do anything without dumb bodyguards riding my coattail. The only time we got privacy was in the girls bathroom, and even then if we took too long they’d come knocking.” You complain, pushing your shoe into the gravel.
“Oh, I see. So you didn’t get to be a bratty teenager so you’re making up for lost years now.” She spoke it with a smile, but assumes she took it too far as along came your infamous eye roll, shuffling away from her on the seat as the irritation snuck back in.
“I am not a brat.”
“And I’m not your bodyguard.” She challenges gently with a smile, nudging her knee against yours. You look at her with a stubborn pout and her smile doesn’t falter. “You’re not really a brat. I can bet you’re a sweet girl that just wants attention so you’re acting out.” Didn’t your father say she was supposed to be tough? Please. You say nothing. Your heart races in your chest but you’re too stubborn to say a word. Maybe you’d let your guard down too much. Roll your eyes again, that’ll do it.
After a moment you look away, not because you were still mad but more so because you were flustered. Sweet girl rung around your head like church bells.
“I know you wanna get rid of me.” She begins and you tense up a little. Way to ruin a nice morning.
“And?”
“I know why. You think you wanna be independent and get away from your parents. You have this… idea of living on your own in the city. Am I right?”
You’re prideful, facing away from her with your chin up. “You’re not wrong.”
She sighs out a little chuckle, shaking her head as she leans forward with her elbows resting on her thighs, head turned towards your profile. “You don’t want that life. Trust me. I’ve lived it and it’s hard.”
“Whats hard is having no freedom, no social life, being followed constantly because no one trusts you to make sensible adult decisions.” You snap at her, turning to look her in the eye.
“So you talk to your dad, try and see eye to eye. Not just… pack up and move out like you’re running away to the circus.” She reasons, like it’s just that simple. Her eyes dart across your face as she sees the rage build, infuriated by the assumption that your father was at all the type to negotiate.
“Theres no just talking to my father, Abby. This is it. This is my life unless I get out of here. I can’t live this way forever.” You raise your voice a little, frustrated at her lack of understanding. “I don’t know what your parents are like, but I’m sure you wouldn’t get it.”
She smiles in that way that people smile when they’re mad or upset, tilting her head down to look at her hands for a moment as she inhaled, shaking her head with a speechless chuckle when she exhaled. “I never knew my mom, and my dad died when I was sixteen. I don’t have the luxury of arguing with my dad like you do. Sorry.” She sarks and your face drops, which sparks a little guilt in that secretly soft heart of hers — because truthfully there was no way you could have known, and she could tell by your face you were immediately mortified. You stumble for words after a moment.
“Look. I can’t forgive my father for practically imprisoning me. We… we have a complicated relationship and I think we always will. He says he cares and then does nothing but ruin my life. But… he’s still my dad. No one should ever have to go through losing their father, especially not at that age. I’m… I’m sorry Abby. I can’t imagine what that’s like.” You speak quietly and she listens, an unreadable expression on her face as she does so. When you finish, her eyebrows flicker up ever so slightly.
“Huh.” She breathes, quietly.
“What?” You furrow your brows, sympathetic expression lingering.
“So you are capable of basic empathy. I had no idea.” She let’s a smile slip and your face drops into one of deadpan.
“Bye.” You go to stand up but she laughs and grips your arm, her strong but somewhat affectionate hand not allowing you to leave her side. You sigh with an irritated pout, facing away from her again. When her chuckles die down, she speaks again, her hand staying wrapped around the flesh of your arm.
“So what’s your plan then. You inevitably get me fired, you move into the city by yourself and then what. Where are you gonna work? You won’t be able to afford living in an apartment by yourself so who are you gonna live with?” She fires at you, realising she’s still gripping your arm and letting her fingers trail down a little before leaving your skin all together. You hate how it leaves goosebumps in her wake.
“I’ll use my family name to get me a job somewhere. As for roommates I’m not too sure, I suppose I’ll have to start looking online.” You smirk, glancing at her out the corner of your eye. “Perhaps I’ll just find a girlfriend first who will let me move in with her.”
The mention of a girlfriend makes heat prickle behind Abby’s ears. She had a sixth sense for these kind of things, most of the time able to tell when someone preferred the company of the same sex — mainly down to her own preferences, and she could tell almost immediately with you. However, it was always pleasurable to get the confirmation that she was infact, once again correct.
“Oh yeah? You think anyone else is gonna put up with that princess attitude but me? You better start working on your game.” She jests, and the mention of her tolerating your princess ways caused you to bite down a little on your bottom lip.
“What, you’re saying you’re not charmed by me?” You joke back for once, turning to face her to bat your eyelashes. She chuckles softly, eyes lingering on you for a moment too long before looking away and pushing herself up to stand by pressing her hands into her knees with a quiet grunt.
“Can’t say the insults and tantrums did it for me. Good luck to you though.” She allows a smirk to flit back onto her pouty lips before she thrusts a hand out, allowing you to take it so she could help you up, once again proving to you both that she was actually more than happy to tolerate that princess attitude she speaks of so poorly.
By the next day, your head is back in the game. All this talk of moving out set you straight, and whilst bonding with Abby in the barn certainly set you multiple steps back — you were back to your old self in no time, dead set on getting her to budge so that you could be free’d from your fathers watchful eye.
You eye your search bar on Google, sprawled on your front on your bed with your laptop open infront of you, having just typed ‘Roommates for sale backspace Roommates in the city friendly and not weird’. As you scrolled through the unhelpful results, your door opened — Abby standing in your doorway.
“Jesus do you ever fucking knock?” You curse, glaring up at where she stands in the doorway wearing her usual tight black tshirt and thick belted cargos and boots.
“Good to see you’re back to your usual self.” She sarks with a dramatic eye roll as she leans on her hip, refocusing (which took an extra second because you’re just wearing a little skirt and top today and lying on your front is making her think things.) “I’ve gotta go get my car serviced so I’m dropping it off at the garage thirty minutes away. You think you can survive an hour without me here?”
You’re not looking at her, continuing to scroll as you wave her off with just a distracted mumble causing her to shake her head and tsk followed by a chuckle as she pushes off her feet, disappearing down the hallway. “I won’t be too long. Stay out of trouble, smart girl.” She calls to you, before you eventually heard the sound of the front door shutting and then her car rumbling around the fountain infront of the entrance and out of the large iron gates. Finally, some peace and quiet.
However, after around thirty-five minutes, you had to admit you’d grown bored. You were home alone, and the room-mate search was coming to just about nothing so you had given up all together for the time being. You flop onto your back on the bed, huffing. Where you’d usually get up with the boredom and go to bother Abby until she argues back — you couldn’t. So, you figured you’d turn to the next best thing, listening to music whilst you do a light work out.
You didn’t like working out when Abby was home, because — as if she were a moth to a flame, she couldn’t help herself from interjecting and gym-rat-splaining everything you’re doing wrong and how to improve. The last time she walked in on you doing pilates, you nearly chucked a weight at her head because she started dishing out unwarranted advice. You knew she did it just to bother you, wearing that shit eating grin on her face when she’d lift a bicep and flex it, stating that it was ‘living proof that you should listen to me.’
You thought also that maybe a workout would help burn off some of the… frustration you woke up with. Perhaps it was the tension ridden barn conversation the two of you shared yesterday, a reminder of your starvation for touch, maybe you just had a load of tempting dreams that you weren’t remembering — but you woke up with your cunt aching and hungry to be filled. You figured this was the real reason behind your bad mood returning with such a vigour, and you couldn’t get yourself off, not wanting to give Abby the satisfaction of walking in (without knocking, no doubt) on you with your legs splayed out and fingers deep inside your wanting hole, probably accidentally moaning her name— or whatever. You couldn’t say the thought of doing so didn’t make things worse though.
When you rolled off the bed and onto your feet, you took a moment to collect yourself at the frustration of remembering that Abby still had your God-damn headphones somewhere, having stashed it away due to you using it as a prop to taunt her. You cursed her out, and then cursed yourself out for getting your beloved headphones confiscated before sighing. If Abby wanted to invade your privacy by not knocking, and taking away your personal items — you could invade her privacy by going into her room and searching for them. Perhaps you could even return them before she was back.
It seemed like a sound plan, so you padded down the hallway until you were met with the door to the guest bedroom where she had been residing. You push the door open, for some reason your stomach twisting in excitement at the small thrill of being sneaky— something you rarely got to experience. The room was clean and tidy, and smelt like her. You push further into the room, looking around and spotting a few of the black shiny duffel bags she’d brought along with her — the rest of her things assumably packed away into the closets. You kneel, unzipping the first.
Your hand sticks inside, rustling about only to be met with metal plated weights and an exercise mat. You huff, zipping it back up and trying the next one. You spot them instantly inside, but tsk when you struggle to pull them out — the headband portion of the listening device tangled with something else. You pull them both out, pulling them apart as you do so and gasp when you realise what you’re holding. A strap on. A harness with a dildo attached.
You drop it, nearly falling onto your back like a spider had just leapt out at you— your eyes widening. Placing your headphones aside slowly, you lift it again — observing it. Why on Earth did she have that with her? Your heart jumped slightly in jealousy, wondering if she was planning on bringing someone over and using it on them. Was she fucking someone, just a few doors down from you? In a moment of sick depravity and curiosity, you slowly bring the shaft beneath your nose— inhaling to smell if there were any… remnants of usage, or at best cleaning products to signify it had been used and cleaned. Your face feels hot in shame as you do so, and it just smells like new plastic. It looked new too. You pull it back, looking at it. It hadn’t been used at all.
“God, Abby.” You whisper as you turn it side to side, harness tickling your leg as you grip the girth of it. It was black and shiny like everything else she owned, roughly 7 inches with veins and thick— just as you expected from the broad bodyguard. There were balls attached too, and you run your fingertips over them gently, lightly pressing down to feel it’s texture. As you do so, translucent white liquid gathers at the tip of the dildo, a small trail of it running down the side of the shaft obscenely. You gasp lightly again as your cunt clenches hard without warning. A breeding strap, now you had only ever seen those in porn videos from your phone screen late at night with a hand down your pyjama shorts.
You’d been fucked with a strap before, of course. You’d had been allowed romantic relationships in the past, and your parents of all things were surprisingly cool with the gay thing. Of course, your father had to background check them first and practically set up play dates with their family (Undoubtably another wealthy family) However, the times you’d experienced with them were all short lived, fumbly and overall incompatible. It was clear that you and your past two partners were there purely to experience some sort of relief from their sexual frustration — which resulted in just rolling around the bed whilst your parents dined together downstairs, them gliding their smaller strap in your tight pussy as you clumsily rut against eachother. The experiences were somewhat fun and naive, but you never got to cum or experience real pleasure and satisfaction.
Oh but Abby, you could tell she had to have experience. She had been out there in the world, seasoned and a few years older than you — and when you look like that, with that kind of body, there was no way she wasn’t having girls in and out her apartment door like some kind of cock carousel.
You felt your wet folds pulsing with need to be touched, and you bit your lip — wondering how much time you had as it seemed to have majorly escaped you. The idea of fucking yourself with your bodyguards strap without her knowing had you wetter than you cared to admit from just your own daydreams in your bed, and you’d decided fuck it, consider it pay back for putting a dent in your plans.
You were squatted on the ground still, but now your skirt and panties were draped messily on the sleek wooden flooring by your side — excitedly holding the strap by the dildo wearing just a tight little crop top and nothing else like you were Winnie the fucking Pooh. It was humiliating in the way that made you reach down, checking and confirming that your slick had gathered across your lower region— pent up and built up from the past few hours of general frustration.
You had no idea how that beast was meant to fit inside of you, but you’d grown desperate — eagerly pulling it downwards and hovering over it, smearing the pearly liquid from the tip around in your slick as the harness clattered against the floor. You let out a sigh, only to realise you were trembling from the adrenaline of doing something you shouldn’t. Biting back an excited grin, you push in slightly — the stretch making you wince, brows furrowing. You let out a harsh breath, whispering ‘Fuck’ to yourself as you do so, just the tip stretching you beyond what you’ve ever taken before. You balance on the flats of your feet, toes curling against the ground and eyes squeezing shut as you try and push in further, the thickness making you quietly cry out, unable to take it properly.
Tears sprung to your eyes, half at the stretch and half in frustration at the inability to fit it inside of you. “C’mon, please.” You whine quietly to no one, walls spasming around the plastic, which now was slick with your arousal dripping down it. You were beyond turned on, to the point where you were starting to feel a little pathetic. You tried to ease up, reaching down to rub your clit to help you along as you take a deep breath, mind trying to ease itself — visions of Abby touching you instead of your own hand, moaning quietly and frustratedly at the thought of her strapping you.
You try and push it deeper, and it seems like your walls are about to let up — but the door flies open and so do your eyes. Your world comes crumbling down in humiliation, your ears ringing and face burning hot; Abby stands before you, eyes wide and jaw slack with pink cheeks.
Your first thought is to pull the dildo out, and the size of it makes you let out a quiet pained whine as you do so. She’s frozen, and the rage takes over you. It’s the most comfortable emotion in a situation like this.
“I told you to knock!” You yell, grabbing your skirt and throwing the dildo to the ground.
“This— this is my room!” Her voice is high and defensive, still processing what she just saw as everything happened so quickly. You pull your skirt up and grab your panties off the floor and to make the embarrassment worse — you burst into tears before you’ve made it out the door, storming past her and slamming the door to your room. The final blow was realising you’d left the headphones behind.
Abby watches you until you’re out of sight before turning her head slowly back to the strap on laying abandoned on the floor, a single drip of what looks like your arousal beside it. Jesus, she thinks, letting out a long sigh and running her hand over her face as she enters the room fully — letting the door shut behind her. She slowly lowers herself into a squat, thick thighs bulging in her cargos as she inspects the scene. Abby lifts the harness, before grabbing the dildo by the suction end and sucking in a hitched breath at how you’d soaked it only a little way down. Your poor pussy, she thinks as her lower region warms guiltily at the imagery now the shock had worn off. “Was a good attempt.” She mutters to herself, tossing the dildo onto her bed and sighing, standing up and stroking beneath her chin in thought. She worries, wonders what you must have thought about her seeing that she’d brought a strap on into your home. You must’ve thought she was some kind of perv, right? How was she supposed to bring you back from this?
As you lay face down on your bed, crying embarrassed tears for an hour straight— you wonder if it would have been less embarrassing if Abby had followed you into your room rather than leaving you to storm off on your own. She probably didn’t want to see you, or speak to you for the matter of fact. You sit up, wiping your cheeks furiously — if that were the case, you had the right to be mad at her. It was her fault, she took your headphones which spiralled into this whole thing. Was it better to let things fizzle out and be awkward? You couldn’t think of anything worse, so you finally rose to your feet again, cleaning up your appearance with your jaw clenched before storming back down the hallway. You were going to finish this, and make her leave for good.
You didn’t bother to knock, because when did she bother? You pushed the door open so hard it bang loudly against the wall, and Abby turned around from her dresser — going through some envelopes, totally unphased.
“I’m taking my headphones!” You practically holler, an accusatory finger pointed right at her. She places the envelope aside as she leans against the dresser crossing her arms and raising her eyebrows.
“Okay.”
“And my father will be receiving a call! Yes, I will call him and tell him that you’re rude, you push boundaries, and you don’t ever fucking knock on any door!” You raise your voice even louder, counting off your fingers as she stares at you.
“Again, this is my room and I didn’t know you were in here.” She explains slowly like you were stupid, which only enrages you more.
“This is my house!” You shriek, waving your hands and she pushes off the dresser, stepping towards you.
“Is it?” She frowns. “Do you even pay any rent?”
You falter for just a second, but it’s enough for her to see and nearly smile, which only builds your emotion. “This is my families house. On your very first day here you said that you were a guest in my house, so act like one. My. House.” You step closer to meet her in the centre of the room, eyes boring up into hers as she watched you, unimpressed, tongue in her cheek.
She couldn’t lie, you were hot when you were mad. Infuriating, sure. But hot. Hot in the way where she wanted to shut you up, make you cum until you weren’t fighting back — just babbling aimlessly, frown fully melted from your face. Fuck you until you learnt a lesson. The thought made her stand up a little straighter.
“Yeah?” She tilts her head daringly, and enraged you step up closer, bodies nearly touching just so you could yell in her face.
“My. Hou—” You go to repeat yourself for emphasis but you’re cut off by the feeling of her hand gripping your cheeks, smushing them. When she speaks, it’s calm and menacing. You stare up at her wide eyed.
“You’re not gonna talk to me like that. You’re embarrassed, sweet girl — and I feel for you, but don’t you ever yell in my face like that. You understand me?” She tilts her head further, eyes on you. You’re humiliated, knees knocking into eachother at her calling you sweet girl whilst berating you and you frown, still panting — all hot faced and furious. She uses your cheeks to make you nod and you groan. “Good. If you wanna talk about what happened, let’s talk. But before you come up here and start accusing me of shit, remember that you came in here searching, and you found that,” she turns your face so that you were looking at the strap on laying on the bed. She stays facing you, eyes browsing the side of your face now. Your eyes widen a little at the sight, the memory of using it replaying in your head. “And you decided to use it without asking me.” She steps back a little, eyeing you (not even bothering to hide the hunger anymore). “Okay. Say your piece.” She gestures with her hand and you collect yourself, pulling in a shaky breath.
You admit, the confidence from your tone had vanished. “I was just trying to look for my headphones. I wanted to work out.” You explain and she nods, encouraging you to go on. “You… you brought that into this house, why?” You point at the toy on the bed, the embarrassment starting to slip through again in your pathetic tone of voice.
“Its not your business what I bring with me in my own bag.” Her velvety voice was quick to answer and your brow creased, running out of reasons to shift the blame onto her.
“Well… you can’t bring things like that here it’s — it’s inappropriate.” You internally curse yourself out for stuttering.
“You didn’t seem to have any complaints an hour ago when you were trying to stuff it inside yourself.” She shrugs like she just couldn’t help it from leaving her mouth and in your embarrassment you turn to leave again, walking towards the door. She follows and reaches over your head and shuts it in front of you before you can, grabbing your arm and turning you around so that your back was pressed to it now as she looms over you. “What? Am I wrong?”
“Abby.” You go to complain, but it comes out as a weak whisper.
“Is that why you did it? Maybe you were trying to get caught so you’d have a reason to get all mad and go batshit crazy on me, huh? Still going ahead with that bullshit plan of yours to send me packing?” Abby theorises and you lower your gaze, head tilted towards the ground as you thought. It wasn’t that, you weren’t brave enough. You were genuinely just being disgusting and horny and got yourself caught — which to you was all the more shameful. She knocks your chin up with her knuckle, making you look up at her again. “Or maybe you wanted to get caught so you could be punished. Is that what you wanted? ‘That why you been such a fucking brat?”
“Not a brat.” You huff, though you couldn’t deny it any further than that.
“You know what a brat is? Girls like you,” She poked a finger into your chest. “Who wanna be put in their place so they act out. I’m starting to think that’s just what you need.”
You try and push off the door but she’s blocking you to do so, bodies too close. “Do you really think I’d come in here and yell at you just because I wanna get spanked or whatever?” You bite back, proud of the comeback until she roughly spins you around by the hips so your cheek was pressed to the wooden door, back a little arched. She takes a fist of your skirt and yanks it up, holding it to your lower back making you gasp — fully exposing your bare rear. She chuckles and you wanna die.
“I dunno, didn’t even bother putting on a new pair of panties before coming up in here. Seems to me like you knew what you were doing. Lost the bass in your voice too, smart girl. Where’d all that anger go?” Her hand is gentle when it cups your ass, feeling the meat of it in her hand. You could not believe this was happening. You were mortified. Soaked, but mortified.
You try to fight back with your words, but it’s coming out in little huffs and embarrassed pants at the feeling of her grabbing your ass. “I’m— m’gonna tell — gonna tell on—”
“You’re gonna tell on me?” She snickered. “Are you gonna tell the full story? What you were doing on the floor when I walked in?” She purs in your ear and you can hear her smiling. She’s sick.
You say nothing, because if you’re being honest you’re giving up on your resolve— the feeling of her hands on you just melting your anger away like ice. “No I didn’t think so.”
She gives your ass a light slap, just enough to jiggle it and make you whimper at the suddenness before turning you back around, eyes glancing between yours seriously. “You wanna know what I think?”
You sigh and nod, not trusting your voice at this point.
She gently takes you by the arm and walks you over to the foot of the bed, picking up the strap and holding it. “I think you need to clean my strap for me.”
The way she says it makes you feel hot and bothered, and you go to reach for it to shamefully disappear and wash it in the sink but she holds it out of your reach, raising her eyebrows playfully as she stares you down for a moment. “Not like that.”
She brings the strap down, stepping into the leg holes of the harness before pulling it up and adjusting it to fit her by the hoops at the hip. You watch, trembling — the sight of her standing there with a huge cock something you had only dreamt of, making you squeeze your thighs together. You hated yourself for how weak willed you’d become.
“You can clean it up that smart mouth of yours.” She smiles simply before placing both hands on your shoulders and pushing you down slowly to the ground. She sits too on the edge of the bed, spreading her thighs wide to accommodate to you between them. She wanted you to suck her off? Now that was just degrading. You pursed your lips, trying and failing to ignore the rush of slick seeping from you.
“Abby. Come on.” You whisper and she looks at you for a moment, making you shrink where you were kneeled before leaning forward, gently grasping your chin again, her face millimetres from yours.
“It’s the least you can do.” She threatens before leaning back on her hands, nodding towards her cock. She nearly folds and leans forward to kiss you when she sees the big, sweet, doe eyes you give her — so far removed from your usual glare. If she knew that all she had to do was dom the good girl out of you, her previous month would have been a lot easier.
You gingerly grip the shaft with your hand, bringing your face towards it. God, it smells like you still— to think that only an hour ago you were on the ground trying to shove it inside yourself. Your brows furrow as you kitten lick the top, before suckling on the top with a low moan in your throat gaining confidence. “Good girl.” She praises as you push down a little, sucking harder to the point where you can taste the breeding liquid. You’re not quite sure if it’s meant to be consumed but you don’t care, you don’t care about anything at this point.
You wanna push down further, but you’re struck with a thought and pull off her with a pop— glaring up at her with some of your leftover brattiness.
“What’s that face for?” She hums. You struggle to find your words.
“You… We’re…” You huff, sulkily and she watches the glimmer of longing pass over your face. “You’re making me suck you off and you haven’t even kissed me.” You finally get it out and she smirks, but not totally in a mean way — more so adoringly. Smushing your cheeks again with her hand, she pulls your face in, meeting you in the middle as her cock brushes against your chest as her lips meet yours. It’s a hard, wet, sloppy kiss with your cheeks smushed but it’ll do, and when she pulls off you with a loud smack she roughly rubs her thumb beneath your pouty bottom lip to remove the residual saliva. “Now get back to work.”
She holds back a giggle at the sight of your own pleased smile as you go back down, licking up the sides and cleaning off the plastic — groaning at the residual taste of you clinging to it. This was cruel, wicked even — and you were enjoying it.
“Thats it. Knew I’d be able to find better use for that mouth. Must be tired from running it so much.” Her voice is gentle despite the degradation and it fills your brain with a hazy, muddled fog — not sure how to feel anymore. You pull up for air after taking as much as you can, and as soon as your lips wrap around the dick again, Abby can’t help herself from pressing her hand down on the back of your head gently, muttering a “‘Can do better than that, pretty.” as you gag around her. This seemed to be the first straw in what broke the camels back.
It had dawned on you, half way through sucking her off that after this she was likely just to throw you out on your ass, back to your room to take care of yourself. Getting you on your knees infront of her was her way of winning once and for all, and this was only one last humiliation to shut you up completely. You hadn’t realised you were in your head until Abby was pulling her strap out your mouth, tilting your chin up to her as she leant forward once more. “Hey. Where’d you go just now?”
You try and break away, trying to catch her tip in your mouth again, jaw a little agape and tongue peeping out but she grips your chin more firmly, shaking you a little. “Hey. Look at me.”
“S’nothing Abby. Just lemme—”
“Did I hurt you?”
“No.” You swallow thickly, shaking your head.
“Then what?”
You suck in a deep breath. “Are you gonna chuck me out after this? Are you… are you only doing this to embarrass me?” She stares at you in perplexity as she watched your mouth turn down, emotions catching up with you as you squeeze your eyes shut — two fat tears sliding down your tears.
“Hey, no.” She’s still a little confused, but she wipes your tears away with the back of her hand anyway. She sighs, pulling you up by the arm and sitting you on her thigh. “Okay. Maybe this kind of thing isn’t for you. That’s okay.”
You wipe your nose, a little calmer and clearer headed now. “I was enjoying it. I think I just… I feel like no one cares about me. It just caught up with me that’s all. We can get back to it.” You go to stand up off her but she holds you tighter, making you look at her.
“I care about you. I stupidly, really care about you.” She speaks sincerely, and you stare at her analytically before realising that she actually truly means it. Abby cares about you.
She pulls you in gently this time, lips locking against yours. It’s not mean, or sarky, or trying to tease you — it’s a real meaningful kiss and you just melt. All that anger, all that competitiveness just melts off you like ice cream on a hot and hazy day. You wrap your arms around her neck, letting her lick into your mouth and dominate your tongue with her own, pulling it in and sucking on it making you shift on her thigh and whimper. You think about grinding down on her thick, cargo covered thighs and how good that might feel after a month of staring at them — but before you can, she’s easing you to lay on your back on the bed.
“Can show you how much I care about you. Maybe we can start over, how’s that sound?” She whispers into the space below your ear, pressing a wet kiss there and you let out a shaky huff, nodding. “Gonna need your words though. That’s how this works, sweet girl.”
“Please show me.”
“Like that, good job.”
Her hands look large, but they feel even larger — especially when they’re beside eachother, running up beneath your top— fingertips brushing over your hard nipples as she tests the waters, smiling against your skin when your back arches up into her, a sensitive whine quietly passing your lips. She slowly drags up your top, pushing herself down your body to pepper kisses down the centre of your chest, letting out a quiet groan of her own when she grips your tit with her hand, massaging the plush flesh. “M—outh” You choke out in a pleasured haze and she chuckles, eyebrows jumping up in amusement as she adjusts her position.
“Should have known you’d know exactly what you want.” She teases before flattening her tongue over the bud of your nipple, pulling back to blow cold air on it to harden it making you wince sensitively. The smile barely leaves her when she dips down, wrapping her pouty pink lips around the bud and sucking, soothing her tongue over it and digging her teeth in ever so slightly, letting them scrape over your nipple when she pulls away. “Fuck, so pretty.” She grits her teeth, reaching up and grabbing it in her hand again letting it jiggle beneath her palm.
You buck your hips again, which directs her attention to your lower regions — forcing her to depart from your breast to continue her journey down your body. She sits up, both hands encasing your waist, rubbing thumbs into your lower ribs gently. “Anyone ever eat your pussy?”
Your breath hitches in your throat at the bold question and your eyes flutter open, not quite remembering when you closed them. “No.”
She grins, like that was just the answer she was after and climbs back down— kissing your stomach and then flipping your skirt up so she could kiss your pubic mound. You shiver, a little insecure but filled with desire more than anything as her hands slide up between your legs. “Open these up for me.” She whispers, and her hot breath wafts over your needing cunt when she reveals it, pulling back to look at it.
You feel your chest and face get hot as she stares— dark eyed and hungry straight at your most private area. “So fucking pretty.” She whispers, thumbs sliding either side of your fat lips and pulling them apart, her brows furrowing. “You always get this wet? Jesus.”
You don’t answer, because you don’t quite have the guts to tell her that you don’t remember the last time someone had aroused you this much, to the point where it’s taken over your body and brain entirely.
She leans in, and you expect her tongue to dart out first — but she spits, directly on your clit making you jolt with a whimper, then chasing it up with the flat of her tongue as her thick arms wrap around your thighs, jaw practically unhinging as she starts eating you like her life depends on it.
You moan, loudly and with less shame as time passes now, grinding your hips up into her face — which she matches by pinning them back down to the bed, only pulling away to briefly grab a cushion from the bed and slot it beneath your hips to elevate you slightly — so fast and expertly you barely realise she’s done it before she’s back to mouthing at your crotch.
“Feels so good!” You whine and she chuckles against you, the vibration of which sends shockwaves through to your stomach. “Need you to fuck me.” You mutter, more to yourself but she acknowledges it anyway, the hands that were massaging your hips sliding between your thighs.
“If you want to take my cock I’m gonna need to prep you. You saw yourself, s’never gonna fit with how tight you are right now.”
With this new information, you feel her finger tips sliding through your soaked folds gently as she suckles on your clit relentlessly. You whine, trying your best not to clamp down when she slides in her finger, and then another. You were in heaven, panting up to the ceiling as she fingerfucks you, l your hand sliding down to encase itself in her golden hair — glowing from the sunset streaming in through the window.
She moans as she tastes you, brows furrowed and eyes clamped shut like she could feel every movement of her tongue herself. “Gonna give you one more okay? Need to stretch you— still so fucking tight.” She speaks against you and all you can do is nod, in fact at that point you’d probably let her do anything she wanted to you. It was such a relief to drop the act, to just relax and let her take care of you.
A third finger prods at your entrance and you wince as she slowly slides it in, looking up at you to watch your expression — brows pinching and eye twitching at the feeling, walls wrapping tightly round her thick fingers. “There you go, pretty girl. Took that like a champ.” She kisses your hip bone before getting back to work, slowly and experimentally fucking her three fingers in and out, curling them up to grind against your upper gummy inner wall.
“Feel like I’m gonna cum, Abby it’s — it’s so much.” You shake, toes curled so hard they’d gone white and she hums kindly against you, pulling off your clit again with a loud spitty pop.
“I know baby, I know. Let it out.” She whispers, rushed and syrupy like she was too on the precipice of a moan. She moves her tongue in quick successions around your clit as you start to buck and ride against her fingers, a clammy sound matching this — your wetness creating music against her knuckles as you fuck against them. “Cum, smart girl, cum.”
You do, and you’re so full it’s like there’s nowhere for the cum to go — and therefore you feel like you might explode, suddenly letting out loud cries and whines as you shake and jerk on the bed, only to be held down by Abby’s strong arms. She moans too, because you’re dripping down her wrists and her chin — seeming to have a never ending quantity of cum as she laps it up. You taste exactly how she thought you would.
You can’t even tell she’s stopped because your legs are still violently shaking for a minute, coming down from your orgasm felt like it would never end— but you were grounded by the feeling of Abby’s lips on your cheek, sliding her hands under your back to hold you. “I know, it’s okay. Good job.” She cooes into your hair, silencing your nonsensical babbles. She doesn’t push you to move onto the next thing, just stroking your skin and pressing her lips to your skin until you were calm.
Abby feels tugging down below, and looks down between your bodies to see your hand wrapped around her shaft, tugging towards you as your legs fall open again limply. She winces like she can feel it, and she swears she can when you lazily run your thumb over the tip that had drizzled some of the pearlescent liquid out from all the movement. She watches you play with the spillage between your fingers, before bringing it to your puffy cunt, spreading it through your folds and whimpering at the sensitivity.
“Shit, babe.” She sighs out, the room feeling suddenly much warmer. “You wanna continue?”
“Mhm. Was prepping to take you, remember?” You brush the loose strand from her braid hanging over her cheek out of her face. The gesture is intimate, like two lovers who have been together for a while. You almost feel embarrassed again but she turns her cheek and kisses your palm.
She nestles the pads of her fingers into your folds again, sliding around in your arousal and you sigh out at the sensitivity, the urge to be filled returning from its brief satisfaction. “Well you’re definitely wet enough.” She smirks in disbelief, and you can’t believe that there was a time where you would have rolled your eyes at such comments — now only doe eyed and lip bitten as your legs fall open wider. Her fingers are replaced by her strap, sliding up and down — collecting your wetness along it, a whimper leaving you when the tip nudges against your swollen clit.
“Think you’re ready for me?” She asks and before she’s even finished the sentence you moan out a quick and desperate ‘yes!’ making her laugh, keeling into herself with her chin to her chest for a moment. She looks cute and you want to kiss her again. In due time, you think. “How long has it been since you last got fucked?” She continues sliding her strap up and down. Abby secretly thinks she’s stalling, because she wants this closeness to last.
You shake your head breathlessly, trying to clear the fog in order to answer her simple question. Why was she asking questions at a time like this?
“Like — nine months maybe a year?” You answer and she nods, understandingly.
“It’s no wonder you’re so tight. This is gonna be quite a squeeze, yeah?” She looks you deep in your eyes, like she did every time she wanted you to really listen.
“I know, s’okay.” You breathe, and at this she takes your hand in her larger one.
“S’gonna be big. You can squeeze my hand if you want. Deep breath in.” She instructs and you slowly inhale as she pushes in, your hand squeezing hers as you clench around her thick length.
The “Fuck” you let out in a breathy groan is obscene and borderline pornagraphic, which makes Abby fight the urge to bottom out completely and shove her cock inside you fully all at once, but she’s patient, her breath hitching as she reassures you.
“I know, I know.” is all she can say as she pushes in further.
“W—wait.” You tense up a little and she freezes with no hesitation, letting you adjust to the stretch as she drops kisses onto your jaw until you were ready. This happened a couple of times, and she’d oblige to your wishes each time you halt her until she was fully seated inside you.
You felt like the air had been punched out of you, Abby was so deep. “Hows that?” She whispers.
“So big.” You mewl.
“Taking it so well. See, we got it all in the end.” She praises, quiet and gleeful watching you blissed out beneath her.
“Y’not getting paid enough for this, he’s not paying you enough to deal with me.” You babble into her shoulder in regards to her deal with your father, legs trembling around her hips.
“You kidding me? He’s paying me to fuck his daughters pretty pussy, think I’ll be okay.” She scoffs into your neck, sucking wet kisses into the skin there, hips still not moving as you adjust.
“S’not why he’s paying you.” Your nose turns up and she chuckles before lifting her face to hover right above yours, lips occasionally brushing. She begins to move her hips and you both gasp at the feeling.
“How about… instead of arguing with me… you shut up and take my fucking strap.” She whispers temptingly and you go limp again, apart from your hips which twitch against her movements letting her grind her strap in and out of you slowly.
“Oh my god!” You cry, letting go of her hand to wrap your arms around her neck, pulling her into you to connect your lips. She lets you whimper against her and suck on her bottom lip whilst she concentrates on finding that angle. She knows she’s struck gold when your legs jerk around her before your heels dig into her ass.
“Faster please Abby, please faster!” You sound deranged, at the point she wanted you all along — cockdrunk and desperate without a care in the world. She clenches around nothing at the thought of just keeping you this dumb all the time.
She speeds up on command, hips smacking against you now as she pulls away to watch the way your tits bounce beneath her. “Oh baby, you’re fucking taking it.” She pants, impressed at how quickly you’ve allowed her to really go in on you. She reaches between you to rub your clit and you squeal, tears springing to your eyes. “Yeah? Want me to rub it? S’it that good, pretty girl?”
“Yes! Please! I— I can’t Abby it’s too — Abby please I wanna— need to cum!” Your hands are curled into her t-shirt adorably which only makes her go harder, practically punching the sounds out of you like a squeaky toy each time she thrusts. You feel yourself teetering over the edge once more, abused pussy relentlessly sucking her in with obscene wet noises attached. Before you can release, your hand reaches down to cup the balls of the strap. “Want it inside, please Ab— please want it inside me—” You ramble and she catches on, and as you tense up, letting out a pained whine as you cum, she slides her hand on top of yours, pressing down to empty the cum lube inside you. The feeling of the warm liquid spurting against your cervix makes you shake, sobbing uncontrollably suddenly as you ride it out.
“There you go, good fucking girl. You like that don’t you? Fuck, letting me breed you like this the first time we fuck? You dirty fucking girl. Such a pretty fucking girl.” She’s babbling too, unravelled by the beauty that was you cumming the way you did. She knew she was good at fucking, but to make someone cry like that was driving her insane.
You’re floating when she pulls out, the two of you breathless and fucked out. Effortlessly, she pushes her hands under your arms and drags you further up the bed until you’re laying against the pillow and she drops down besides you, pulling you into her chest, t-shirt slightly damp with sweat. You listen to her heart thundering in her chest, and it lulls you into a sleepy and relaxed zone, pulling your thigh up over her hip with her help, her thumb stroking the crease where your ass and thigh connects.
“Did so good. The sounds you make are so pretty.” She whispers like she was trying to lull you to sleep. You shift, breath stammering in your throat and nearly choking you when your used pussy glides over her shaft— the veins and ridges catching against your clit making your hips jerk on her, unable to stop yourself from slowly and feverishly rubbing down on her as you breathe heavily in the quiet room.
“Want more, sweet girl?” She cooes, hand running down the back of your head to cup it lovingly.
“Too sore.” It comes out muffled into her t-shirt, aimlessly rocking your hips.
“That’s alright. Just keep… keep doing this.” She relaxes into the bed, kissing your forehead and letting you please yourself, grinding into the mixture of your juices and the fake cum soaking the both of your lower halves. It was messy and bordering on gross, but made your needy clit throb all the more. You were truly insatiable. Had it really been that long?
She sighed in pleasure at the feeling of you grinding against her, the position making her harness press deliciously into her own clit, pleasing you both. Perhaps she too could get off from this.
The sun had gone in, and the room had grown dark. But this time, you weren’t afraid — infact the growing inkiness of the sky was the last thing on your mind— safe, warm and dumb in Abby’s strong arms.
Maybe you’d let her stick around.
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abswife · 5 months
Text
stranger
you find yourself alone at a party and want nothing more than some peace and quiet. but the cute girl with the braid seems to have other ideas.
cw// smut with little plot, top! abby, bottom! reader, drinking, nicotine, fingering, cunnilingus, reader's appearance is not mentioned other than being afab and having hair, abby is a sweet respectful baby
this is my first fic for abby so sorry if it kinda sucks :/
word count: 3k+
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The accelerated bass made the whole house shake, though you’d never be able to tell with the sea of bodies that flooded every room. People jumped up and down, spinning and shimmying to the rhythm of some generic trap song. You could hardly make out the shape of the living room you were in, what with all the gyrating college students and flashing lights. You’d lost track of your friends long ago. They were likely in the midst of the chaos, dancing to their heart's content, or had already left with someone to spend the rest of the night with. Not that it mattered, this isn’t your first party. Having gotten through almost three full years of school allowed for plenty of time to get used to the ragers your school’s frats would throw. 
Someone suddenly knocked their elbow into your arm, making the liquid in your plastic cup slosh onto the floor and on your shirt. 
“Fuck.” You muttered, not bothering to say anything to the culprit considering you weren’t even sure who had done it. 
Having had enough of being jostled by the people nearest you, you made your way through the crowd toward the back door. You successfully managed to reach it, and downed what was left of your drink as you swung the door open. The cool air rushed over your face, and immediately you felt much less overwhelmed. You stepped out on the small patio, closing the door behind you. There were a few other people out here, mostly couples that wanted somewhere calmer to talk or makeout. Though, it was kind of hard to see with the only light coming from the small porchlight and the colorful flashes through the windows. Setting your now empty cup on a small table near the door, you walked down a few steps before plopping down onto the edge of the wood. You pulled your vape out of your pocket, taking a big hit. You weren’t a big smoker, but alcohol always seemed to worsen the habit. The air was colder than you initially thought, and you tugged your denim jacket closer to you. 
“It’s pretty cold out here, huh?” A voice behind you spoke up. You turned, and your eyes fell upon a tall, blonde woman. Her hazel eyes were slightly watery, likely from the wind that blew toward her face. She had on a bulky jacket, but you could tell she had a muscular frame under it nonetheless.
You blinked, unsure what to say. “Yeah, but it is February,” You said, cringing slightly at yourself. You turned back around, hoping that would be the end of that awkward interaction. However, she sat down on the step next to you, resting her elbows on her knees. The stairs weren’t very big, and no one else would be able to get through with both of you sitting there, but you didn’t really care. You looked over at her, raising your eyebrows. She gave you a soft smile, then her gaze drifted down to your vape.
“Can I get a hit?” She asked, gesturing toward it. You thought for a moment, then shrugged and handed it to her. She raised it up in a way that said ‘cheers’ and then took a hit from it, handing it back right after. You watched her as you grabbed it back from her grasp. She looked out into the yard as she held the vapor in her lungs for a few moments before blowing it out through her nose, the smoke curling through the air around her face. She glanced back over at you, and you blushed and looked down, realizing you were caught staring at her. When you met her eyes again she had a small smirk painting her face. Immediately, you copied her actions before, facing the grass and taking a hit. As you exhaled, you slipped it back into your breast pocket. 
“What’s your name?” The woman asked, causing you to face her again. You told her your name, then asked the same question. “I’m Abby.” She said, flashing her pearly teeth. You just noticed that she had freckles sprinkled over her nose. 
“Are you a freshman? How come I’ve never seen you before?” You asked, even though you could tell you guys were the same age. She chuckled and shook her head, rubbing her hands together. 
“No, no. I’m a junior. I just don’t tend to come to stuff like this. I’m pre-med so I don’t usually have the time.” She explained, brushing away stray hairs that had fallen from her braid. You hummed in acknowledgement. You didn’t know many other pre-med majors, so it took you by surprise to meet one at a party. Though, it made sense, that seemed like the sort of study that wouldn’t have much free time. 
“So, do you approach strangers like this in the cafeteria or…?” You questioned, slightly teasing her. Her eyes widened and for a moment you worried you’d offended her, but then she laughed. Her head hung down, forehead almost hitting her thumbs where they clasped atop her knees. When she looked back up at you, you couldn’t help but smile.
“Just the pretty ones.” She said, and the ease with which the flirtatious words came from her lips embarrassed you. You bit your lip and looked away, the heat from your cheeks letting you know you were sporting a light blush. You hadn’t expected this very attractive stranger to hit on you, but you certainly weren’t complaining. Another chuckle sounded through the air, and you knew she was amused at your reaction.
You weighed your options. 1. You could feign disgust, and get up. This is the easiest route, considering it meant you could leave this party and go back to your apartment, spending the rest of your night in peace. 2. You could lightly turn her down, and then disappear back into the crowd of people, drinking to your heart's desire. 3. You could flirt back. Who knew what would happen if you did that? Number three was tempting, though you were afraid of making a fool of yourself.
 ‘Fuck it’, you thought. You turned back to her and smiled lightly.
Her keys jingled in her unsteady grip as she desperately tried to put the right one in the lock. Admittedly, you weren’t of much help, considering you wouldn’t stop kissing her for even a second. Even when she wrenched her lips away to actually look at what she was doing, you moved your kisses down her jaw and across her throat. She swore, then finally managed to unlock the door, swinging it open and pushing you inside. You giggled at her urgency, and gripped her jacket to pull her in with you. She kicked the door shut behind her as she reattached herself to your lips. You shoved each other’s jackets off, and she led you to her bedroom. Your back briefly met the door before she opened it and continued to walk you backwards towards her bed. 
The back of your knees hit the mattress making you fall backwards onto your butt. She rucked her shirt up and off, throwing it into the corner. You took the chance to admire her. You had been right about her being muscular. She had soft abs and big arms, and her sports bra covered her broad chest. You bit your lip and reached up to the nape of her neck, pulling her back down toward you. She willingly let you, and put one of her knees on the bed beside your thigh. She practically lifted you to move you further back on the bed, then properly straddled your hips. You slipped your hand into her hair as best as you could with it still neatly braided, and scratched her scalp as you kissed her. She groaned at the feeling and gripped your waist, thumbs slipping under your shirt. Your other hand found its way to her waist, and you ran your fingers over the muscles of her stomach. She pulled back to slip your shirt up slightly, before looking in your eyes.
“Is this okay?” She asked, hands shaking with anticipation where they held the hem. You couldn’t help but smile at her. Instead of replying, you helped her take the clothing item the rest of the way off, and then reached behind your back to undo your bra. She gulped as you pulled the straps down your arms, letting your tits out for her to see. The cold air in her room made your nipples instantly harden, and you grabbed the back of her neck again, attempting to drag her back down to kiss you. She resisted a moment, still wanting to look at your breasts, but gave in and leaned back down to your lips. You arched your back, pushing your chest into hers, and the feeling made you shiver. You panted as she began to kiss your neck, a hand gliding up from your waist to cradle the underside of your breast. Her thumb brushed across the soft skin, not yet touching where you wanted her to. A whine bubbled up in your throat when she sucked at a spot in the junction between your neck and shoulder. 
As she finally began to palm your full breast, you pulled the hair tie from the end of her braid, sliding your fingers through her locks to undo it. Her lips continued to trail down, kissing the skin of your left tit before taking your nipple into her mouth. You sighed and gripped her hair, making her groan again. You took note of how she seemed to like having her hair played with and pulled. She grazed her teeth over your nipple and you swore under your breath. Her responding chuckle sent heat directly to your core, and you suddenly remembered that you both still had pants on. 
“Pants. Off.” You managed to get through heavy breaths. Her lips detached from your breast with a ‘pop’ as she looked up at you with an amused smile. You could see the internal conflict over whether to make a joke about your condition, however she must have decided against it as she sat back on her knees to unbutton your jeans. You lifted your hips to help her shimmy them down your legs, and she tossed them over her shoulder. Her hands met your hips and her fingers ran over the top of your underwear. The pads of her middle and pointer finger lightly pressed over your clit through the fabric, further dampening the material. 
You grabbed a pillow and slid it under your head, gripping the sides of it. Abby continued to barely apply pressure over your underwear as she admired you under her. Her obvious staring embarrassed you slightly, and you raised an arm to cover your eyes. You hear her huff a breath through her nose, and then some shuffling. Becoming curious, you removed your arm from your eyes. She had taken off her bra, her small tits now free, and had started moving down to lay on her stomach. Her hands drifted to the inside of your thighs, pushing them apart lightly. You made eye contact as she kissed from the inside of your left knee down to the junction between your thigh and groin. 
You bit your lip, desperate for her to continue her path. However, she quickly changed direction, lips trailing their way back up. Then she switched to the other side, giving the same treatment. You bucked your hips up, seeking friction. The corner of her lips turned up, clearly entertained by your neediness. She reached a hand up to rub at your clit through the material again, a little firmer this time, while she sucked marks onto your skin. You felt your breathing pick up again, and you grasped at the sheets. The attention she was giving you was nice, but not enough. 
You huffed out, “God- Abby, please.” You were too shy to fully articulate what you wanted and hoped she would just know. 
She lifted her mouth from where she had been sucking at your inner thigh, and gave it an extra lick before asking, “What?”
You knew she was just teasing you, wanting you to actually tell her what you wanted her to do. However, you were nothing if not stubborn. “T-touch me, please.” You breathed out.
She hummed, changing the movement of her thumb to run over your whole slit, occasionally catching your clit. “But, I am touching you.” She said, and pushed your right leg further out, emphasizing her point. You groaned in frustration and clenched your eyes shut, trying to work up the courage to actually do what she wanted.
You opened your eyes and looked back down where she was waiting patiently with a smile that made you want to punch her and kiss her at the same time. “Take them off and touch me.” You pleaded, cheeks burning. Abby hummed again, as though considering what you said. Apparently that had been satisfactory since she hunched over slightly to hook her fingers under the waistband of your underwear, pulling them off and flinging them across the room. 
It was her turn to bite her lip as she gazed at your unclothed pussy, wetness spread all over your labia. She spread your legs back out, making ample room for her broad shoulders. She settled back on her stomach, but leaned over to one side in order to reach her hand up. She used two fingers to spread your lips open, putting your full core on display for her. You whined out and palmed your breasts, needing some kind of stimulation. You could feel yourself becoming wetter by the second, the seemingly eternal teasing leaving you desperate and on edge. The pads of her fingers found your clit and she made slow, broad circles over it. Unable to handle the overwhelming sensation, you threw your head back and sighed. It took all over your concentration not to cant your hips up. 
You almost cried when you felt her fingers leave your clit until you realized she was prodding at your entrance. You look down, and her eyes are fixed on your pussy. She slowly pushed a finger in, and the intrusion is not particularly pleasurable. However, she quickly crooks her finger up towards your stomach, and the new angle has you biting back a moan. Her fingers are thick, a fact you had somehow missed until now. She slowly rocked her finger in and out, transfixed on the way you seemed to pull her in deeper. Your hips jumped involuntarily, and she used her other hand to press on your lower stomach, effectively holding you down. 
Finally, she looked back up at you, a smug look overtaking her features. Maintaining eye contact, she leaned her head down and pressed a kiss against your clit before licking a broad strip up your folds. The unexpected feeling made you let out a quiet yelp and your hand shot down to hold the top of her head. She hummed, as though she was appreciating your taste, and then continued her languid ministrations. You couldn’t help but let your moans free now, unable to conceal them because of the overwhelming pleasure. The vibrations from her moans added to the feeling, and you could feel yourself squirming despite her hold on your lower half. 
She detached her mouth from you and asked, “Does that feel good?” Then immediately dove back in. You were sure it was really a courtesy, considering the sounds you were making. Even so, you breathed out an ‘uh-huh’ and combed your fingers through her blonde locks. 
It was almost embarrassing. Your shameless moans and the wet sounds of her finger plunging inside you were the only noise in the room, but you couldn’t find it in you to care in your current state. The only thing you could focus on was the blissful pleasure Abby was giving you. She swirled her tongue in circles around your clit, and then funneled her lips around it to suck it into her mouth. You arched your back and gasped. Sweat started to form on your face and neck, making your hair stick to your skin. 
Just when you thought that it couldn’t feel any better she suddenly added another finger without slowing down. A particularly loud cry slipped from your lips, and you gripped her hair. She moaned unabashedly, licking at you faster. You could feel your orgasm approaching, and tried to shut your legs around her. She used her free hand to grab your thigh and push your leg up towards your chest and out, effectively keeping you open for her. Your hand that wasn’t in her hair fisted the pillow under you, and you turned your head to try to bury your face in it. The pace of her fingers didn’t falter as she lifted her head to say, “Cum for me. C’mon, you can do it. Cum on my fingers.” 
Her words sent you over the edge, and you let out a strangled whimper as your legs trembled. She kept fucking you through it, slowing her pace as you gradually came down. You gasped for air, panting like you just ran a marathon, and released your hold on her head. You could feel her kissing your thighs as she gently removed her fingers. You watched as she brought them up to her mouth, sucking your juices off of them. The pornographic sight made you flush, and you covered your face with your hands. You could hear her moving around, and then she wrapped her hands around your wrists and pulled your palms from your face. She flashed you a beautiful smile, and pecked you on the lips.
“Was that good?” She asked, settling onto her side next to you. You were still trying to catch your breath, and the question made you laugh. “Uh, yeah. I thought that was obvious.” You answered, turning over to face her. She smiled brighter and placed a hand on your back, pulling you closer. You nuzzled into her, your face finding a home in her neck. Your breathing finally settled, and she rubbed your spine up and down. Sleep began to overtake your body, and you fought to stay awake. “You can sleep, it’s okay.” Abby said, pressing her nose into the crown of your head. Her reassurance soothed you, and you allowed yourself to drift off in her arms.
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zahraaziza · 10 months
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𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃𝐌𝐘 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓. 𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧.
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𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: the term "rosy" refers to the readers rouge clad cheeks specifically, not the readers actual skin tone in any way shape or form. enjoy reading!!
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𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: a corrupted innocent (hyper) femme reader & dad's best friend slash milf abby anderson type pairing.
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𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. explicit sexual content. 𝐦𝐝𝐧𝐢.
—୨♡୧ now playing 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐢 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐝 (𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐢)
𝐃𝐁𝐅!𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐘 craves more of that sugar and spice you got…
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in warm sugared hues, small specks of flour dusted the rosy apples of your cheeks, that you so delicately sifted into a porcelain bowl just a few minutes prior, blending the creamy batter with each tender turn of the whisk in sugar's sweet caress, as the candied aroma of vanilla meshed with fine sprinkles of cinnamon left a trail of delight.
the silky frills neatly draped along the hemline of that dainty apron tied snugly around your waist gently swayed, whilst you tiptoed around your quaint kitchen, softly molding the buttery warmth of the dough into tiny morsels, so sweet for your loving parents to enjoy, once they get back home.
little did they know, their seemingly innocent sweetheart, an angel pure in their sight, harbored a secret beneath that sugary guise of hers. one, in which your charming, gentle giant next door neighbor and dad's best bud anderson, payed you frequent special visits to get a lasting taste of her most beloved special treat, always coming back to savor that sticky sweetness of yours on the very tip of her tongue, when their watchful eyes aren't around.
bending you over the counter adorned in delectable swirls of glossy frosting and powdered sugar, abby slipped the rough pads of her fingers through the lovely little ribbon of that apron wrapped behind the small of your back. flipping your skirt up over your hips she gingerly traced the rough flat of her palm between the plush of those swollen lips to your drooling princess parts, "you're irresistible, d'you know that cupcake?".
soft mewls bubbled away in your throat, as she relentlessly left light smacks against your spread out pussy, glazing her thick digits in the creamy slick of your love juices, almost as sweet as the tender-hearted dessert you so docilely prepared.
oh, how she loved fucking her little darling baker stupid. having you almost forget that special family recipe of yours, you tucked so closely to your heart, from all that teasing and toying with her dearest treat right between your thighs, "acting like a good girl in front of daddy, but are truly such a needy little play thing for momma, huh. aren't you, baby?"
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༺♡︎༻𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: @scarstarlet @millersaurora @anchoeritic @ellabsprincess @seraqhites @cowgirlcherrie @abbyskitty @destielcore @elliessknife @dropsofs4turn @milllersfae @cherriesxinthespring @dixonsdolls @digit4lslut @porcelainbambi @angvlita @kissesskittens @fxiryverse @elliesbelle @starologist @kokomos @xioriae @machetegirl109 @abbys-wife @lightpinkprincess444 @hazywazysmind @winfleurs @elliephobic @lias-writings @lonelyfooryouonly @beforeimdeceased @angel4abby @hehatesmati
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︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶
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sweetercalypso · 7 months
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Knife’s Edge || Abby Anderson
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Word count: 1.7k
Summary: when reader gets lost inside a haunted house, ghostface!Abby takes her to the backroom
Notes: part one in my week of horror series! minors dni; brief dubcon, knife play, throat holding, fingering, dom!Abby wearing a strap under her costume, sex against a wall, afab reader
Scary stories and sleazy horror films had never been something you enjoyed, so you’re not sure why you’d agreed to tag along when your friends invited you to a haunted house hosted in a bleak, abandoned building sitting at the edge of town.
As soon as you walked through the doors, you knew you’d made a mistake. Gory backdrops, clown-faced actors, fake bodies hanging out of coffins – you found a reason to shield your face lurking around every corner. Your friends had shrieked with laughter and pulled you along with them, but you couldn’t keep up with their excited pace, dragging your feet and lagging far behind the group.
Maybe if you hadn’t spent so much time with your hands covering your eyes, you would’ve known you were headed down the wrong hallway, straying further away from your friends with each blind step. When you look up to find yourself stranded in the empty darkness, you chastise yourself for coming to a haunted house in the first place.
Tonight would’ve been better if you’d just stayed home.
When you realize that the noise and the commotion of the tour have all but faded into the distance, your heart leaps into your throat. There’s something about the silence that doesn’t seem right.
A rising panic overwhelms your senses as you look around for anything that might tell you where you are. Your friends are all gone, and so are the actors and the gruesome scenes that had been guiding you through the halls. Is it worse to be scared or to be hanging in suspense?
The sudden shuffle of footsteps floods your lungs with relief. You speed up to follow after the sound, only briefly stopping to consider how humiliating it is to be this frightened by a rundown building full of cheap decor.
“Excuse me! Hey-”
You grab the person’s shoulder with a trembling hand, no longer concerned with keeping your dignity intact. They can laugh at you all they want as long as they can lead you to the exit.
When the stranger turns around, you let out a small noise of surprise. She’s tall and brawny under her costume, and the tips of her boots peak out from the bottom of the black sheet of fabric she’s cloaked in.
The mask covering her face is shaped into a ghoulish, twisted scream, just like the one from those cheesy slasher movies you’d never managed to sit through. Even the prop knife she wields at her side is unnervingly sinister.
You pull your hand back and turn your attention to the mesh covering her eyes, hoping for a glimpse of the person underneath.
“Do you work here?”
She cocks her head to the side, silent.
“Look,” you sputter. “I just got separated from my friends, can you help me or not?”
A group of muffled voices erupt from somewhere in the house, a mess of laughter and gasps and thrilled shrieks of artificial terror. You feel her eyes raking over you before she bobs her head and motions for you to follow.
“Come with me.”
The walk through the hallway is quiet beyond the eerie music playing on a loop and the sound of her steps over the creaking floorboards. Cardboard cutouts and tarped sheets of plastic block out the light from the windows and you’d struggle to follow her trail if it weren’t for the occasional flash of her white mask looking at you over her shoulder.
She leads you through a maze of intersecting hallways before finally stopping in front of a door marked with gaudy caution tape and a formal ‘DO NOT ENTER’ sign tacked in the middle. She guides you inside with a hand flattened against your lower back and a warmth licks up your spine from her easy touch.
She follows in behind you and shuts the door, and you’re suddenly aware that she’d taken you beyond the part of the house marked off for guests.
Overloaded boxes and bins of leftover decorations are scattered around the room, a collection of undead odds and ends stuffed into every corner. It’s too crowded and too uncanny for your liking.
You turn to look at the quiet stranger with wide eyes, heart hammering in your chest.
“Why are we here?”
She’s silent for a moment before she grabs you by the waist and wraps her arms around you, pressing her face into the crook of your neck.
“Are you scared?”
You shudder as her cold plastic mask connects with your skin. Standing this close, you can hear her heavy breath contorted by her disguise, feel the rise and fall of her chest pressed against your back.
The kitchen knife gleams against your hip where her hand gropes for purchase. In the darkened hallway, it’d seemed like a cheap, flimsy prop to match her crude costume, but in here, there’s just enough light to catch the metallic luster of the blade’s sharp edge.
She seems to follow the trail of your downcast gaze because she runs the flat side of her knife up the length of your torso with an amused hum.
“Don’t worry,” she taunts in an overly cloying voice. “You won’t feel a thing.”
Her grip is loose enough that you could break free if you wanted, but you’re too flustered by the heat pooling in your belly to try. You wriggle in her grasp and unintentionally move your hips into hers, gasping when the tip of the blade digs into your side.
“Ah- careful with that thing.”
She laughs dryly and drags the steel up to rest in the valley of your breasts. “I think you like a little pain.”
Without a warning, she spins you around so that you’re sandwiched between her form and the wall, cheek pressed roughly against the cracked, yellowing paint.
“You feel that?” She grinds against the curve of your backside, revealing the hard plastic bulge underneath her costume. “S’my cock, baby. You gonna take it like a good girl?”
You whimper at the harsh treatment and the thought of what’s to come. When you take too long to work up a reply, she wraps a hand around your throat, delicate but forceful enough that you’re aware of her underlying strength.
“I asked you a question.”
Honeyed slick coats the apex of your thighs as you squirm in place, practically thrumming with adrenaline and a feeling you can’t name. You’ve always hated scary movies, but living through one is turning out to be much more of a thrill.
“Yes,” you pant with a shaky nod. “Please, yes. Just fuck me.”
Her knife clatters to the floor beside your feet and you flinch at the shrill noise. The hand around your throat is gone, disappearing somewhere behind you as she bunches the fabric of her costume around her waist.
You chance a look over your shoulder in hopes of catching a glimpse of her form without the curtain of fabric blocking the view, and you’re met with the sight of her harness digging into her hips, leading below the waistband of her black cotton boxers.
A sliver of bare skin is visible between the dregs of her cloak and the hem of her underwear, accentuating the smattering of blonde hair trailing down from her naval. The muscles of her thighs flex as she pulls the length of her strap from its confines.
She reaches around to unbutton your jeans and tug the material down your legs, careless of the way your hips jerk from the force of her strength. When her fingers prod at your entrance and she slides her fake cock between your thighs, your palms flatten against the wall to keep yourself from crumpling over in bliss.
“S’that feel good?” Her thumb swipes at your clit in fast, messy circles while two thick digits part your velvety walls.
Little sighs and puffs of air are all you can manage as a response. Her fingers curl at the perfect angle to hit your sweet spot, and you think you could manage to come like this if she kept at it for even a minute longer.
To your disappointment, she frees her fingers before you can reach your peak, and you push back against her with a whine of protest.
She doesn’t seem to appreciate your breathy complaint, because she shoves your hips back against the wall with a bitter force that makes you gasp at the impact.
“Don’t fucking move.”
Her masked face peaks over your shoulder, creeping into your peripheral with an unblinking, static gaze.
You feel the tip of her cock nudge against your weeping entrance, sleek plastic rubbing against your skin just like the pale visage resting against your cheek. She drives her cock into you in one fluid motion, grunting as her hips slam into yours.
“Fuck-” you choke out a breathless, eager sound as she gives an experimental thrust against your backside.
Her broad figure envelops you completely as she grinds her cock into your slick cunt, agonizingly slow until she decides you’re ready for more. She’s everywhere all at once – a blur of heavy-handed touches over your hips and your chest. You can’t decide whether you’d like to push your breasts into the cradle of her palms or to contort yourself into the hollow of her frame in search of more pleasure.
“mmh- please, faster,” you beg, brows pinched together with the effort of keeping still like she’d asked.
“Yeah?” She picks up a bit of speed and returns her fingers to your clit. “Too cock drunk to be scared anymore?”
You nod along with what she’s saying, too focused on the tension twisting in your gut to pay attention to her words. You’d agree to anything as long as she kept moving.
A minute passes and you’re teetering at the edge of your release. She seems to notice, adding pressure to your clit and grinding her cock into you as far as it’ll go.
“That’s it,” she pants. “Come for me.”
The tension inside of you snaps and you shudder through your release with a choked sob and a silent thanks to the stranger holding you up. Your walls cling to her slick length as you come around her cock, heaving a shaky breath into the quiet, cramped room.
After a few more greedy thrusts and swipes over your sensitive clit, she stills inside of you and presses her mouth to your shoulder, almost like she’s kissing you through the plastic mold covering her face.
With a content flush crawling up your cheeks, you turn to look at her in the dim lighting. “You could’ve taken the mask off, y’know.”
She laughs wryly and shakes her head. “Where’s the fun in that?”
927 notes · View notes
midnightbluebells03 · 1 month
Note
Hello! I was curious if you could do a dom!Abby x chubby reader, maybe some smut where the reader starts feeling bad about her body so Abby "shows" her how pretty she is *wink* *wink*
It's fine if you reject my request remember to drink water and have a good day/night :)
THROUGH HER EYES
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CW - fingering (R receiving), oral (R receiving), negative self talk
WC - about 1k
Reader is described as fem and chubby, I based this off of myself a little as a plus sized girlie
No outbreak
Thank you for the request darling! And thank yall for over 100 followers 🖤
Leave me any requests in my asks xo
It all happened so fast.
Only fifteen minutes ago you were standing infront of the mirror looking at yourself in the new dress Abby had bought you. The one you had been looking at online for weeks but never hit buy. Because the truth was you didn't think it would look good on you. The model in the picture was tall, skinny, flawless. A stark contrast to how you saw yourself.
Your hands ran over you body as you took in how the fabric clung to you. How you could see the outline of your stomach, the cellulite on your thighs and the way your arms looked in the thin straps. It felt like you couldn't stop. Your mind relentlessly picking apart every bit of your appearance until there was tears forming in your eyes. It wasn't jsut the dress, you pinched at your round cheeks, fussed with your hair, you even thought about taking off your makeup.
Abby had been watching you silently in the doorframe of the ensuite bathroom. Her eyebrows furrowed and arms crossed tight across her chest. You two were supposed to be meeting her friends in half an hour but instead she shot them a text, saying you guys were going to be a little late. Before she pushed you onto the bed and dropped between your legs.
"Abby we don't have time-" your protest was met with two fingers slipping past your lips. You gasp for a second but hum softly before starting to suck. Earing a smirk from the girl below you.
"They can wait" Abby pulls her fingers out slowly, you try to chase them and earn a small chuckle from her. "You look so good I just have to" the feeling of her hand running up your inner thigh makes you need to bite your lip.
"I'm actually gonna change" you admit, glancing over to the closet, a slight frown on your lips. With a soft sigh you start to explain, not making eye contact with Abby as you do. "The dress is lovely baby, thank you I just think I'd look better in jeans or something"
"No" Her voice is stern, that same tone she uses when telling you to behave. But her hands are as soft as ever. Gently moving up further until she's brushing her fingers across your panties. Making you gasp. "No baby you're gonna wear this, you're also gonna look into that mirror" her other hand grasps your jaw gently, forcing you to meet your own eyes in the reflection. "While I show you how pretty you are okay?"
Despite the part of you that wanted to say no, that wanted to give in to the insecurity and self hate. You swallow hard, giving her a breathy. "Okay" as you watch her bunch the dress up your hips.
"You stop looking I stop" her hands pause on the waistband of your panties. Waiting for your nod before pulling them down. "Good girl"
That's how you ended up here. With your fingers tangled in Abby's once slicked back braid while her tounge works calculated circles around your clit. Your eyes fixated on yourself in the mirror. A twinge of embrassment in your chest that was being drowned out by the pleasure. The way her hands are so tight on your thighs that your almost sure it'll leave finger shaped bruises was enough along to make you wet. But paired with the soft moans she's letting out against your dripping pussy you couldn't help but try to grind into her face.
You tip your head down to watch Abby for a second, desperate to see your pretty girl. Starting to feel yourself getting close to the edge. But always the observer Abby is quick to notice, pulling back fully. Despite your moans and desperate attempt to keep her head where you needed her.
"I told you baby"
"Abby-" you plead, only cut off by her lips pressing to yours in a quick kiss.
"Shh" you watch as she gets onto the bed, positioning herself behind you. "Just moving a little, don't panic" She brushes the hair out of your face, pressing kisses to your shoulder as she gets comfortable. Her hand moves past your stomach until she reaches your clit. Making you moan softly as she slowly traces circles around your sensitive bud. "Now look" her free hand grabs your jaw, keeping you looking in the mirror. You can't help but focus on how her steel blue eyes stay glued to your body. Looking over you like you're her prized posession. "There's my pretty girl"
Her fingers slowly dip down to your hole as you lean backwards. Positioning yourself further into her chest as she slips in. Two thick fingers stretching you out as your eyes roll back for a second. "Fuck" you quickly fix your gaze, looking at your own flushed face as Abby slowly moves in and out of you. Her other hand trailing down to massage your breasts through the fabric of your dress.
"Taking my fingers so fucking well" she bites down on your lobe gently, making you moan as her lips continue down your neck. Only stopping to mutter into your skin. "Always perfect for me aren't you baby?"
"Mhm" you try to reply through your pathetic moans. Watching yourself as Abby works you closer to the edge. Fingers curled up just the right amount to hit your g-spot. Your legs start to shake as you clentch around her hard. Using all your focus to keep looking in the mirror so she doesn't stop.
"Good girl, cmon baby cum all over my fucking hand" Abby groans into your ear, her movements not pausing as you cum. Your moans echoing through the room as you slump into her fully. Breathing heavily as your eyes finally break from the mirror, looking up to the ceiling. Abby presses a soft kiss to your head. "Cmon baby let's get you cleaned up". You shuffle forward and let her get off the bed. Listening to her walk to the bathroom, the tap running as she holds a cloth under it.
"Abby?" You call out softly, waiting for her to come back between your legs. Gently wiping you up.
"Yeah baby?"
"You should wear your hair down" you prop yourself up onto your elbows. Tilting your head towards her. "Your braids all fucked up and I think Manny will kill us of we're any later"
She chuckles before throwing the cloth onto your nightstand. Planning to deal with it later and starting to unravel her braid. Dirty blonde hair falling in soft waves. You sit up, pulling on your panties before fixing your dress. Looking yourself over on the mirror, expect this time you can't help but smile.
"Yknow this dress is cute"
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peeweekey · 2 months
Text
Sebastian likes frogs. Emphasis on the word likes.
He appreciates them, they do good for the environment. They eat up all the nasty flies that buzz around the mountain lake, too. He doesn’t have to worry about mosquitos snaking on his blood while he smokes. It’s just a plus that he finds them cool and interesting.
Which most people find weird. Sebastian thinks it’s weird that they find it weird. Frogs aren’t going out of their way to bother people.
Yes, he likes them. They’re his favorite animal, certainly.
But favorite is not enough for him to want to smooch a frog.
“Sam, I’m not gonna fucking kiss a frog.”
“C’mon! It’ll be like the movie!” Sam teases, insistently shoving Sebastian to the frog innocently sitting on a park bench. “Who knows, maybe it’ll be your very own froggy princess—”
“Didn’t the girl turn into a frog when she kissed it,” he shoots back, elbowing Sam backwards in the gut. The blond lets out an overdramatic hiss of pain, bent over and clutching his stomach. “Abby, back me up here.”
“I never watched that stuff,” Abigail shrugs, watching with amusement. She makes no move to help at all, comfortably resting against the wide wooden posts of a fence. “Watched a lotta cartoons though. Phineas and Ferb is my jam.”
“Not about the movie,” Sebastian grits exasperatedly. His brows knitting together in frustration “The frog.”
“Mhm, go on,” a cheshire-like grin on her face. “Kiss it, Seb. A big smooch right on its slimy mouth.”
Sam eggs him on, the pain of being elbowed magically disappearing. “Do it! Do it!”
Sebastian presses his lips tightly together. There’s no use resisting once Abby and Sam band together. They’re a force to be reckoned with like this—demanding and overbearing. Sebastian exasperatedly wipes a hand over his face, shooting the poor frog a sorry look.
Sam pushes him one more time, he gives him a stony glare in return. “Fuck—alright! Stop being so damn loud, you’ll scare it away.”
The frog in question croaks slightly, like it senses the trio talking about it. He gives it a wary glance.
As he slowly approaches, Sebastian can hear Abby and Sam’s satisfied sniggering behind him. They roped him into doing another stupidly outrageous thing for the umpteenth time.
He sighs, he really needs better friends.
Mustering up all his courage, he bends down, almost eye level with the frog, resting a hand on the wooden grain bench on where it’s perched upon.
He screws his eyes shut and goes for it.
Sebastian’s lips connect with the frog’s slimy, almost rough skin. So fast and featherlight that it can barely be considered a kiss. Cold against his lips. He pulls back immediately after, wiping any residue off his lips with the back of his hand.
The frog jumps, croaking with,what he assumes is, alarm.
“See?” Abby laughs, ruffling his hair good-naturedly. “No princess in sight. You didn’t turn into a frog either!”
“Man,” Sam snickers, patting him roughly on the back. Sebastian groans with every smack. “It would’ve been cool though, if you turned into a frog. We’d have a frog drummer in our band!”
Sebastian shoves his unruly friends off. “Yeah, whatever. Let’s get going. The frog is probably traumatized.”
“You can check that off your bucket list,” Abby teases, a smirk playing on her lips. “Kiss a frog before I die. We’ll tell the story for generations.”
Sam howls with laughter, Sebastian feels absolutely mortified.
Before the trio could make any move out of the park, a cloud of green smoke curtains the frog, so thick and so unusual. Sebastian unconsciously backs away from it.
“What—woah,” Sam says, more mezmerised than shocked at the green smoke pouring out of the frog Sebastian kissed. “What is that?”
“The fuck if we know, Sam!”
“Boys, boys, shut the fuck up. Look.”
Abigail points at the fog. It grows and grows, stopping and dissipating once the whole bench is covered with the green mist.
The frog is gone—disappeared into thin air. Instead, a not-so-frog shaped person sits. You blink up at Sebastian slowly.
Woah, woah.
He feels his heart accelerating—for all the wrong reasons. An unusual thumping sound that vibrates all throughout his body—his fingertips, his stomach, his toes. Where there should be fear and panic and definitely fear, Sebastian feels exhilaration.
You’re pretty.
It’s also pretty horrifying for him to think—and feel.
You blink slowly—a frog-like trait that cement his suspicions. You’re staring up at him as he stares back down at you, curious meets bewildered. “…”
His eyes are wide, scanning each and every part of your now not frog-like features. Sebastian feels cold sweat dripping down his forehead—a stark temperature difference to the heat in his cheeks. “Oh—oh shit.”
“Uhm… ribbit?”
-
Another thing he blames on Sam and Abby—his horrifying attraction you; the person, not the frog.
He checks that off his metaphorical bucket list, too.
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nyctophiliq · 5 months
Text
thinking heavy about the blackmailing trope with stalker! abby :(
cw; 18+ mdni, dark/nsfw content, STALKING, female-bodied reader, masturbation, blackmailing, manipulation, controlling themes, ooc abby (?)
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originally abby didn’t plan on picking up this class, but well… things didn’t go well with her other subjects and she needed more credit before the semester ended so she could pass. thinking it through she didn’t mind it, in this world you can make big bucks off of it and she was kinda into the idea of everything that revolved around tech and computers, even tho she didn’t have her own until high school ended.
that’s the class she first saw you in, that computer science class. she had never seen you before, and later found out that you were accompanying one of your friends while you had a free period.
when her fascination with you doesn't go away, she is the sort to put hidden cameras in your dorms or even learn how to hack into your phone, laptop, and whatever else you own so she can monitor you and what you do. she is merely watching you take a shower or put on clothes, and she has no rational reasons for what she is doing.
but she gets sick of staring at your image on her displays since you are so monotonous and do so little in such a long time. however, there is no way you would attempt anything unless you knew she was watching you. that is until you storm into your room with heated skin and labored breathing; at that point, she refocuses her attention on you and becomes even more engrossed in what you are attempting to do when you reach beneath your bed.
her skin tingles with anticipation as you take out a box with a firm grip, toss away the lid, and remove your prized possession from it. a glass dildo with a few larger, knot-like sections that curve like a real cock and a sweet, pink heart-shaped handle. without much patience for foreplay and in a rush to get everything ready, you don't hesitate to force it down your own throat and saturate it in your saliva.
abby can see how your form twitches and your fingers dip to circle your clit since the cameras are at such an angle that they are only a few inches away from you and are peering down at you. normally, she would like to spend time by herself observing you, but because everything you did at that time seemed hurried and urgent, she was afraid she would miss something if she turned her gaze away.
because she can already hear you gagging on the dildo between your lips and slamming your hips into the air as you drool, she thought it was dumb of her to forget to get a recording of your noises. the toy is covered in enough saliva to have a slight sheen when you finally pull it out, after what seems like hours and hours. she catches her breath as you glide it down your body and groans as you shove it within your pussy, your juices pooling around the object and dripping onto your white bedding.
she has little to no patience, desperate to feel your skin against hers, that when you wake up the next day a dvd sits on your nightstand with a note on top of its cover and a little red bow tied around it. the note goes on and on, calling you "an ugly slut" and a "flighty degenerate she should just throw away" but she has an offer. after a few nights, she is more than willing to get rid of the video, of which she has the only copy.
and what can you do if not comply, meeting her at the designated spot and date, at the exact hour of the day just as she wants it. you wouldn’t want those little details about your life behind a closed door to get out, now would you? for everyone to see what a depraved whore you are to be used as nothing but a fuck toy. but she can help you, the two of you can help each other out, and that video you just saw? there will never be a sign of it anymore, nobody will see it. of course, she doesn’t tell you that she is gonna keep it on a separate hard drive for herself to sometimes take a look at but if she is in the mood for it, might just fuck you while making you watch it.
but a few nights will never be enough for her and she will keep making excuses to have you with her, keep you paranoid and have you look over your shoulder to make sure she isn’t plotting something really bad to cause you your downfall.
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enbesbians · 5 months
Note
imagine abby fucking u with the strap but with every thrust its a squeak like a doggy chew toy i’m giggling
LMAOOOO what??? but what if…
i know this a fucking joke but right after i read this… due to my vivid imagination, i visualized it.
what if abby was new to the strap scene, asking a friend for advice on strapons and stuff— seeing the best size to start with or what quality harness is the most comfortable. she’d ask the friend where she’d be able to buy one since she’d be too impatient to wait for it to get shipped and delivered from online. given the address, she entered a sex shop. it wasn’t any ordinary shop, most of the sex toys looked like contraptions from sci-fi films— dragon dildos, vibrators the shape of a huge lizard’s tongue, ruby red fucking machines with the dildo looking like a mold of someone’s hand.
she was intimidated at it and nothing in that shop looked like what someone who was in need of a starter strap. she went along the strip of the isle, seeing numerous strap ons with most just being creature molds until she finally found one that looked normal. she had been so excited, she didn’t even read what the strap does… or that it fucking squeaks— she saw the six inch logo and called it a day.
when the time came, you and her were in bed, her slipping herself inside of you, so excited at the fact that she’s finally using something she had fantasized about on you. it didn’t take long (after you had adjusted to the size) that there was something off about this strap on… her hips snapped itself into you, and after the first couple quiet squeaks, you couldn’t hear it in the midst of your shared moans, but then as her pace increased, the strap got louder and louder.
“what the fuck is that?” she asked, looking down thinking that was your goddamn pussy making all that noise, but as she slowed down her thrusts, she noticed so did the squeaks. “oh my god…” she sighed, coming to a realization that it wasn’t you, it was the strap on.
red huddled at her cheeks, feeling embarrassed that the first time she strapped you down was with a squeaky strap on.
you never let that go.
THIS WAS FUCKING STUPID LMAOO. i don’t know why i took it seriously but hey… fuck it.
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deblklesb · 9 months
Text
[Head Over Heels — Abby x Reader Oneshot]
[rugby player!abby, artist!reader, fluff, pining]
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cw: reader is a total mess, abby is brother's friend. there's not explicit content but still MDNI.
a/n: I've put my whole simpussy in this, like... reader is a loser lesbian and this fact is totally self-inserted, sorry not sorry. again, so so sorry for the wait! this is just some fluff with reader being a simp, a mess, all over the place for abby anderson teheehee 👉🏾👈🏾, i hope you like it anon!!!
word count: 3,4k | not proof read
!reblogs are highly appreciated!
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The cool winter wind was reaching your face as you pedaled to your class, high speed across campus because you were late. The alarm didn't clock, you took too much time eating breakfast, and now you wish to all the heavens the teacher has not arrived yet.
Your brother was very much confused when you started to run around the house this morning.
"I didn't know you had class, you usually wake up first so I assumed…"
"The alarm didn't clock", you yelled from the bathroom, brushing your teeth as fast as you could, but decently.
Now, the open buttons of your shirt allowed the wind to come in so you wouldn't be as sweaty. Fixing your hair after parking and locking your bicycle, you greeted someone working and headed to the room, so frustrated to get late to your favorite class.
"You're lucky our model for today is more late than you", the teacher said as soon as you got inside.
"Sorry, Ms. Addams", your smile was weak. You wanted to disappear, that was your favorite teacher.
The only tripod available was in the front, no one liked it because the lightning from there was so confusing it messed up every sketch. Lucky for you, during winter the sun isn't that bright, so you fixed your stuff and just got a moment to breathe. Being a teacher's pet didn't mean sitting in the front, that was new for you.
"Hey, what happened?" Gloria, your friend, reached out. "You're never late"
"My alarm", you shudder, sighing. "Well, I'm here now. We just have to wait for the model"
"I heard is some girl from the rugby team"
Well, that's news. Your teacher is doing some work indeed, trying to expose her students to different body shapes and all.
"Nice. Perhaps she's nice and will carry me around, my legs are burning from pedaling so hard", it was a joke, a silly one, but as soon as a woman who wasn't enrolled in that class got in, you knew she could definitely carry you around. You also knew that because you knew her.
She was probably the biggest woman you've seen in person, and absolutely the most beautiful.
Freckled, creamy skin on her arms and face, honey-blonde hair in a braid that fell on her shoulder, a firm and strong body worthy of an athlete. Her clothes were simple, just cargo pants with a plain shirt and boots, but boy, oh boy, she was looking gorgeous. As always.
"Sorry for the time, boss, I had to get out later from early practice", for some unknown reason, her voice, too, sounded too good to be true and made you melt inside with just a simple phrase that wasn't even directed to you. "Hope it doesn't mess around with the class"
"It's okay, Abigail. And you don't have to call me boss, we've talked about it", your teacher smiled fondly, hugging the tall woman and making obvious the size difference. You were probably the same height as the dark-skinned woman, so that means you were as high as Abby's chin. Being next to her on other situations made you very self-aware of that fact.
This useless information would always make you squirm. This time it was on the chair in the middle of the class, hoping for all the God's nobody noticed.
"Kids, this is Abby. She will be our model for today and two other classes, so make use of the anatomy to study properly", she was very comfortable next to the rugby player, which made you deduce they knew each other well. "Well, now go prep yourself, darling, we have to start"
"Do I… Take everything, or something?" Just the mention of her being nude made your mind buzz around and it wasn't a good sign, considering you had to focus to draw.
"Keep your underwear, please", the older woman smiled sympathetically, turning around and heading to the back of the room, her usual initial spot in every live reference class.
Abby took off her boots and left next to an empty chair, starting to undress then.
Nobody was looking at you, but you tried to keep it cool and professional. Ignoring the heat on your face and the sweat arising on your palms, you looked at Gloria to hide your embarrassment and noticed she was looking back at you trying not to laugh.
"You're very gay", she whispered, making you roll your eyes and then look at your empty sketchbook. She wasn't wrong, though, you were very much a lesbian and it was obvious.
Those type of reactions were normal whenever Abby was around, but you could definitely go through that class without it.
You put effort into abstracting the sensations and feelings that make room into you as soon as Abby stands in the small, lifted platform in the center of the room, the ambient light hitting her just right. She positioned herself in a simple form, waving briefly at you from there when she spotted you in the front. You did the same back, a small smile to be nice - but not too big to give it away that being around her made you almost piss your pants - and then you all started to work
It was a figure drawing training, something you usually hated because you had to think too much about form, proportion, perspective and lightning. You loved to do loose sketches and grew very fond of gesture drawing, too much for your liking, so that now that you had to stick to the forms and not the rhythm and movement, your mind froze a little. Despite that, you loved doing art and loved that class even though it had nothing directly linked to your major.
Abby had strong features, in the sense of focus. The muscles of the arms and legs, the shape of her face, the abdomen and her whole posture caught your attention too much. It wasn't just the imagery, but a whole set of little elements that formed a distinctive energy. Even the braided hair was part of that, and at each second, each line traced and marked shadow, you tried to remind yourself that it was a class.
After 10 minutes or so, she took a break - admittedly, you had no idea how those models stood still for so long. While she stretched and relaxed her muscles, people started to talk with each other around the room, the small buzz of conversations surrounding, as you turned to Gloria.
"I'm dying here", you whispered, stretching your hands and fingers a bit. "She's so pretty"
"I have to admit… She is very handsome. I don't usually hang out in your brother's dorm so I don't see her often…"
"They're together all the time, I am very lucky to have my face shoved into a book all the time because then I don't have to have buckled knees around her" Gloria laughed at your despair, the whispers almost a cry for help.
"Let's gather our focus, people", Ms. Addams called, and just like that the break ended.
Although the object of analysis was Abby's body and structure, you just had to make a small drawing of her face. Shading and putting too much effort, you ended up doing another one. And by the time the class ended, you had a main figure drawing of her body in the first pose, two others of her face and another simple sketch. A very productive class, and you felt yourself bursting with inspiration still.
"I have a class in five minutes, so I'll have to go now, boss!", the blonde reached to her clothes as people started to pack their stuff. You tried not to look at her figure too much, but took your time putting the material in place just because, y'know… Care. It had nothing to do with the possibility to look at her from afar a little bit more.
"That's okay, Abigail. Thank you for your help, same time next week. Send a hug to your father!", Ms. Addams waved goodbye.
"Hey" you looked up from your backpack when Gloria tapped your shoulder. She pointed to the door, where Abby was standing, ready to go. The blonde was looking at you, a smile on her face. "Tell your brother he owes me twenty bucks. See ya!"
"Okay, bye", you nodded and chuckled lightly at the comment, imagining the type of bet they both must've done this time.
As soon as the other students started to get out, your friend gave you small punches in the arm, giggling.
"Stop!", you felt your face warm, it was so fucking ridiculous to be like this around her every time. And the worst part is that she didn't even notice you that much, so you were a head over heels with zero hope.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
"What do you mean you were naked around my sister?!" You rolled your eyes with the discussion, ready for the mess your brother was about to make.
"Nobody was naked, I had underwear!" Abby's voice was playful, but you knew your brother was two steps from going serious about it.
"Stop being a drama king, asshole", you grunted while going to the kitchen, not even looking at them to escape the risk of drooling over the tall woman sitting on the couch.
"Hey, I'm the big brother here, I was supposed to be looking over you!" His voice started to get a pitch higher, you could imagine the indignant face already.
"You don't even give me rides home, too busy with your flings", you shout from the kitchen now, filling up your bottle.
You were trying so hard to focus on studying a subject you were not interested in, ready to throw it in the air to watch some Ghibli movies instead. Filling the water bottle was almost an excuse to get out of that madness, but having to hold your reactions because of Abby's presence was not ideal.
"That's right, get him again! Get him for me!" And now her voice is closer, almost like she's in the kitchen with you. It makes you flinch slightly, almost dropping the bottle before you turn around to see her strong figure on the entrance.
"Look, you touch her and I will fucking throw that rugby ball right into your face!"
"Jesus Christ, Matt, shut up! Nobody is keeping you from your shit, leave me alone?! It's just Abby!"
Your mom would be annoyed to be around you both, good thing you lived together alone.
"Yeah, Matt, it's just Abby!" She repeats.
You finally look at her properly. She has a simple shirt on and sweatpants, it's casual but it looks too good on her - as usual. Her hair is down - you loved her hair down - and a scrunchie lies on her wrist. Her freckles are so visible from where you stand, it's almost like cute details painted directly on her face to compose the most beautiful work of art.
"I would like to see it, by the way", you snap out of your trance with her words directed to you.
Her hips touch the kitchen counter when she's one step closer, a sympathetic smile making your hands tingle and her tone weaker now that she's just talking to you.
"What?"
"Your drawings. From the class"
"Oh-", you look away, trying to come up with an excuse. "But… We still have other classes to go. It's better to see it at the end and all… And they're not even that good", you're holding that water bottle for your dear life, afraid that it slips from your hands due to the sweat.
"You don't wanna show me, that's fine", she chuckle, hands up in acceptance.
"It's not that, it's just-"
"No, I'm not being funny, it's serious. If you don't wanna show me, it's okay. Was just curious y'know, after all I'm just standing there. Don't know how you do whatever you're doing"
That's the most you've ever talked to Abby, and she's so nice. Genuinely trying to make you comfortable. And it makes you fucking sick, you just wanna spit out that you would like to have her posing for you every day for ever, to have her like your muse, to kiss her face after drawing it millions of times- You're such a loser.
"Oh, I get it…" you nod, trying to come up with a good response. "Well, I guess after the classes, I mean when you stop posing for us, I could show you whatever I did. Just wanna be more confident, it takes a little bit more of time to be familiar to the subject"
"If that's your saying, boss lady, I absolutely believe it", she's smiling wider now and you just wanna scream into a pillow about how incredibly cute her cheeks are.
"Okay, ahm… I have to go back to the room… To study other stuff that is not art, unfortunately", you point to the corridor, mind going blank with the mere proximity between you both. "So, uh… See you later?"
"Hope so. Good study session", Abby gives you space to get out of the kitchen.
The rest of the afternoon you keep repeating that interaction in your mind. Analyzing you every word and wondering if she thought you were, like, embarrassing.
Still, the image of her cute cheeks when she smiled at you and the way she seemed really interested in your drawings took over your attention, it was all you could think about the rest of the day because you're such a simp and she's so beautiful. Fuck this.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
It's now game season, which means that the college campus is a mess. Everybody seems so agitated, a buzz surrounds each corner while posters adorn the walls and murals, calling for the next big rugby game.
The hype around the event kinda mobilizes you too, even though you're not even that into sports. You're actually so out of this type of entertainment, but eventually if you sit to watch with your brother you get so excited and exalted that it almost looks like you've been following the teams forever. Matt actually thinks it is so funny that you keep asking him the rules and then start to scream at the TV once you'd pick it up enough to finally enjoy the match.
"If they don't kick their asses I'll actually lose fifty bucks" Gloria reveals as you both enter the building for the art class.
"Fifty?!" Your eyes almost jump from your skull. "Do you have that much faith in our team?"
"Well, don't you?"
"I don't know", she laughs. "Really, I don't follow them… But if you bet fifty bucks, they must be at least decent"
"Your girlfriend is a good player, if that's what you wanna ask", the taller woman smiles at you with that suggestive manner.
"I didn't ask!"
"But you were thinking about it"
"Shut up." You definitely were. "And she's not my girlfriend" Unfortunately.
As you both enter the room, early enough this time, you recall the fact that it's your last class with Abby as a model. Something inside of you mourns the future absence of such a big source of inspiration for you. Your sketchbook (the personal one) has pages filled with drawings of her - you didn't tell anyone, but you went through her instagram page and used some gym photos as references.
One night you brother stormed in your room and you had to close the book as fast as possible, trying to mask your embarrassment. If he knew that you were so into Abby, he would be a hundred percent more unbearable.
"Hey, teacher", the tall woman soon walked in the class, backpack and a massive bottle of water on one hand. "Last day, uh?"
"Yes, dear", people started to settle for the beginning of the session, fixing materials and angles. "I would like to thank you for your time and disposition, I imagine it isn't easy to stand in front of a class of stranges that are meticulously looking at you", everybody chuckled. Abby took her shirt in the corner, putting the clothes on a chair. Against your will, you absolutely checked on her. But life wouldn't let you have it, and so, like being conscious of your actions, the blonde glanced back at you, which caused you to face away immediately. Jesus fucking Christ, could you be more obvious? "So thank you, again, and I hope you somehow enjoyed the experience"
"I certainly did, boss" She smirked friendly, going to the small platform in front part of the room and standing with arms on her back, legs slightly spareted. Why on earth was she so good looking? "I don't really mind the looks, after all there are dozens of people staring at the games and judging us all the time, so… Well, thank you too for inviting me, it was truly nice! Needing againg, I'm here for it!"
You felt a tap on your shoulder and looked to the side, Gloria was smirking like she knew something you didn't.
"You'll get your pages wet with all the drooling", she muttered.
"Wanna see who gets the pages wet?" You playfully put a hand on your own watter bottle, having her giggling.
"Well, let's begin, shall we?"
Einstein for sure had a point with relativity, because that class flew away like a lightning for you. The biggest pity of all, since Abby wouldn't be there after that day.
Once again you end up doing a main drawing of her body, using the remaining time to put some doodles of her face around it. It was like this for every class, different than the ones she wasn't the model. However, by that time you were already used to sketching her - hence the alone sessions in your room - so you could do much easier work now. You hoped no one noticed this fact, because a question about how you got so instinctive when drawing Abby would be blatantly dodged.
You already could tell in detail the difference between her arm muscles and the last model, for example, but not only the imagery of it: you thought about the biological singularity of her muscle development.
As soon as the class ended, you closed the sketchbook and tried not to think too deeply about the whole situation. It would be fine. Abby would stop being the model and so you would see her less, consequently thinking about her less and moving on so easily. Like, so easily.
"Hey", you froze with her voice, more specifically when noticing that it was almost next to you. Her face was the first thing you saw when looking up from your backpack. "Are you coming to the game tonight?"
"Should I?"
"Well… I could use some cheers", she was still shirtless. Heck, she was still in her intimate clothes.
You were not thinking about how she used a simple bra and nice black boxers.
"I thought you had plenty. With all the staring", why were you being so sarcastic?
"Your staring is kinda different, if that's what you wanna hear", she smirked, crossing her arms. Good lord, save me from barking in front of her with all this attitude. "And I would like you there"
"So maybe I'll go", you shrugged, trying to be cool about it. Something inside of you said that maybe you were being too cool about it, maybe she would think you don't really care; that's not what you want her to think. Shit, were you doing this wrong?
"Don't tell your brother I asked you this while almost nude, I don't think he would let me get close to you ever again", her chuckles were so cute, she was so cute. You were so done.
"Oh, do you want to get close to me again?" Abby stepped back while still smirking, everybody seemed to be out already - though you couldn't tell exactly, she was still your main focus.
"Maybe" Now she shrugged, finally getting close to her clothes again. "Preferably when he's not around"
What was that? Oh, probably your heart skipping several beats.
"Talking like that, I might as well think you're hitting on me, Abby" The most surprising thing was how you weren't laying down on a puddle at this point. Instead, you were chuckling back, hands sweaty and stomach twisting in a rush.
"Am I?" She grabbed her pants. "You'll probably have to come to the game and see!"
After another smirk from her, you just shook your head and walked away from the room with a simple "See you later then".
The interaction started to play again in your mind, Gloria was standing outside with wide eyes and a smile fighting to appear. That adrenaline rush made your mind a whirlwind.
"What the fuck was that?!" Your friend whispered, holding your arm and following your steps.
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