Abby Anderson X Reader - Blog Posts

𖦹 MORE THAN A WOMAN ⇆ abby anderson

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

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

┆︎wc┆︎2.8k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

My Babies

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

visions — abby anderson.

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

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

୨・┈﹕✦﹕﹕✦﹕┈・୧

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Would you like some help?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Princess.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

“The school meeting.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Which Sophie?”

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

“Oh, I like that Sophie.”

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

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

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

“If Rue called you mom.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Abby smiles. “You are her mom, baby.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

18+ minors dni

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

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

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

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

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

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

mdni

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

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

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

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

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

That’s my girl 💞💞

No thoughts just soccer player Abby.

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

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

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

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

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

i want to bite her.

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

♡ྀི ༝ ₊˚ ⌒ now kith ꒱

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

imagine dating both ellie and abby…

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

𝜗𝜚

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Human Appeal USA

Gaza Emergency Appeal For USA Supporters | Human Appeal USA | Human Appeal USA

Over 29,000 people have been killed and 1.9 million are displaced without access to food, clean water and basic healthcare. Help our team in

Impactful Ninja

9 Best Charities Impacting Palestine (Complete 2024 List)

The Israeli-Palestine Conflict dates back to the Arab-Israeli War in 1948, resulting in the displacement of over 750,000 Palestinians. The r

WHY CANT I HAVE HER 😫😭

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

MINORS DNI

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

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

600 reblogs? Wait guys keep going I’m close

MINORS DNI

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

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

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

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

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

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

MINORS DNI

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

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

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

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

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

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