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[abbyslapdog]

i can't find that one abby/reader hate sex fic in ao3 where they got sent to cleaning duty and they fight about it, then abby absolutely ✨destroys✨ the reader. That was the very first fic I read about Abby, too. I am enraged exuksgxekdtejdv

[abbyslapdog]

"lesbians for a free Palestine"

downtown Ottawa, Ontario, Canada

[abbyslapdog]

Whispering Pines

I plan for this to be a two-part piece, at least, as there are many mushy and maybe even spicy things planned for it—but today is my birthday and I’ll be away from my computer for a few days to celebrate. I really hope you enjoy reading it in the meantime. Big fluff, 18+ only.

In a world where infected roam the earth and surviving has become a daily battle, life is as good as it can be. Perfectly fine, by your standards, until Abigail Anderson entered the picture.

From the moment you saw her shredding all competition in the gun range, she stirred something inside of you that now clouds your mind and distracts you from almost everything else.

The term “crush” makes sense to you now, with the overwhelming burden of longing and unseen affection absolutely crushing you into miniscule particles of dust, drifting hopelessly at her feet.

Your infatuation has pushed you into a range of activities you wouldn’t have pursued otherwise. While it has undoubtedly made you a more capable soldier, it is unfortunate that the attention your accolades have received is not something you can reciprocate, even if you wanted to.

It’s not just her striking smile, or her perfect blend of rugged and soft features—not the sheer strength she exudes when she ambles through the chow hall in her tank top, cargo pants so snug across her muscular thighs it makes your knees weak.

It’s just her. A beautiful amalgamation of countless quirks and habits that, for some wicked reason, forces your senses to impossible heights when you desperately need them to subside.

“Are you hearing me right now?”

“Shit, sorry,” you say. “Go again.”

You lower your head apologetically, Manny’s face expressing absolute scandal when he notices the broad-shouldered goddess that diverted your focus from him. His very best friend and comrade, naturally.

When he waggles his brows at you and calls Abby over, your stomach swoops so low that the rapid beating of your heart contradicts the notion of standing still.

“Manny, don’t—Manny! Oh, Jesus Christ.”

With a brief, calculating glance at your fidgeting form, he meets Abby halfway, abandoning you in line.

As you lose focus on your surroundings, panic draws emphasis to the position of your hands. You become acutely aware, contemplating whether they should rest in your pocket or if that would come across as too deliberately cool.

You avoid watching them talk amongst themselves, the air thick with secrecy, because obviously if you don’t see her, she can’t see you and then you can vanish without a trace, escaping to a haven that grants respite anywhere but here in the damn burrito queue.

When you reach the front of the line, you snatch up your lunch with such speed that the person serving you may have mistaken your haste for a bad mood as you swiftly exit through the nearest doors and into the hallway.

“I can’t believe you,” Manny pants, trying to catch his breath as you fumble with your overcrowded keyring. “The first woman who’s ever tried to escape my charm.”

“I find that hard to believe,” you snicker. Metal jingles aggressively as you struggle to enter your apartment. “God, what’s wrong with this damn thing?”

In a display of cunning, Manny unveils a spare key, undoubtedly gained through some act of thievery, and shoves you aside. With a kick, he swings the door open and stretches his arm above your head to hold it for you.

“Do I even want to know?” you ask, gesturing at the stolen key.

“Probably not,” he chuckles.

He rests against your kitchen counter and, realizing you won’t ask him to go, hops onto the hard surface. He devours his meal, one enormous chomp at a time, legs casually swinging as you wander through your suite, trying to regain your appetite.

“So,” Manny says, balling up the wrapper before tossing it at your head. “You’ve got it bad for my girl, huh?”

“You’re actually the worst, do you know that?” you say. “I hope you never get laid again.”

Laughing uncontrollably, Manny tries to catch the messy wrapper you toss back at him, causing him to nearly tumble off the counter.

“That’s what you get, sucker!” you exclaim. “Looks like you won’t be making the softball team, after all.”

With a snort, Manny jumps down from the counter and starts rummaging through your mini fridge, in search of something to wash down his lunch.

“We’ll see after this weekend who is the real sucker.”

“What does that mean?”

With a voracious gulp, he drains the last drops of your juice rations, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. He’s finally seeking retribution for all the snacks of his that you’ve been helping yourself to.

“Manny, what did you do?” you groan.

An abrupt knock at your door startles you, as Manny’s knowing look turns your mouth bone-dry.

“I’ll go wash up. You better get that,” he says.

With a leisurely pace, he saunters down the hall, his footsteps creating a gentle rhythm as he heads towards your bathroom and out of sight.

Thunderous knocks continue to echo through the room, causing your thoughts to scramble. You smooth out your shirt and fuss with your hair, taking a few calming breaths before flinging open the door.

A pair of bright, curious blue eyes greet you on the other side, setting your cheeks on fire. Swallowing hard, you stand there speechless, desperately grasping for something significant to say. Knowing what Manny told her would provide some helpful context, but that shithead has left you in the lurch twice today.

Abby sizes you up, her attractive face adorned with a growing smirk that spotlights her confidence.

“Hi,” she says with a warm smile, extending her hand for a friendly handshake. “I’m Abby.”

“Hey, yeah—I’ve noticed. I know,” you blurt, feeling yourself internally recoil at the gibberish spilling from you like a waterfall.

As you both stand there, the handshake lingering for an unusually long time, Abby’s amusement at your expense only seems to intensify. As she patiently waits for you to decide when it ends, her eyes crinkle cheerfully at the edges. By the time you pull away, your whole body feels sweat dappled and flushed.

Manny shouts from somewhere inside the apartment, sending your shoulders straight to your ears. “Are you going to invite her in already—where are your manners?”

His outburst earns a gratuitous eye roll from Abby, who then tilts her head with empathy towards you.

“Would—you like to come in?” you stammer.

“Yeah,” she says. “That’d be great.”

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A few times each year, Abby takes charge of organizing events for the younger generations on the FOB. She leads a series of survival challenges—scavenger hunts, fishing and hunting, target practice, crafting competitions, herb, and plant identification—to help keep morale up and to preserve strength in the community.

Although you haven’t taken part, you’ve heard positive feedback from soldiers and their families on base. It’s a good thing too, since Manny has kindly stepped in and volunteered you to help Abby with the next one.

“I know it sounds corny, but it really helps build teamwork and keep everyone active,” Abby explains, referring to a relay race she wants to set up outside the walls.

“No, not at all—it sounds awesome,” you say.

“I was going to go solo, but if you want to come along, I’d appreciate the extra hands,” she says. I usually camp for a few days and build everything myself. It’ll be nice to have some company out there.”

Abby’s fingers find a loose thread that is spindling out from a tear on her jeans, and she starts to fiddle with it. Manny clears his throat, prompting you to join the conversation rather than staring at her like she’s an enchanting extraterrestrial.

“I love camping!” you squeak, putting Manny on the verge of collapsing with laughter as he hears the sheer excitement in your voice.

It wouldn’t be completely terrible if the couch swallowed you whole, but despite your nerves, Abby does a decent job of making you feel relaxed in her presence.

“Yeah? Do you have a tent and everything?”

It’s clear that the universe is conspiring to make you look like a fool, so of course you don’t have camping gear of your own. To be honest, you’ve always been thankful for the opportunity to choose your work while off base because every time you observe your unit setting up camp, it reminds you of how complex it all seems.

Your inclination is to prioritize keeping everyone fed and using your expertise in weaponry and stealth. If you attempted to pitch a tent with only tarps and some rope, someone would inevitably wake up in a puddle.

“I’m not so great with the tent erecting stuff,” you say, mentally cuffing yourself the minute you hear yourself speak.

You’ve never uttered the word erecting in your life before now.

You avoid glancing at Manny’s face, aware that he’s eagerly anticipating the chance to mercilessly ridicule you. With a sugary, lopsided smile, Abby boldly extends her middle finger towards her best friend. You can bet that he is making all sorts of faces behind your back.

“We can share mine,” Abby offers. “If that’s cool with you.”

“Sure, that works for me,” you say with a nod, trying like hell to stay composed against the heat climbing your neck.

Abby bites her cheek to suppress a smile.

“Good, it’s all settled,” Manny says, slapping your back. “Just you and Abby, all alone in the great outdoors.”

----------------------------------------

“I’m going to kill him,” you grumble.

Upon hearing the news of Manny finally pairing you and Abby together, Nora is giddier than you’ve ever seen her. While assembling a medical kit for your camp out, she gives you a cheeky look.

“That girl needs her shit rocked,” she says, bouncing her flawlessly manicured brows. “If you want my vote, I say you send her home to us limping.”

“Oh, my god! I’m never going to get my face to calm down.”

You press your palms to your forehead, desperate for a cold cloth.

Nora’s bright, warm giggles fill the room, matching the kind-heartedness she emits.

“There’s no way Abby isn’t dreading this,” you say, passing a roll of gauze to Nora’s outstretched hands. “You should’ve been there—it was like I forgot how to talk or something. I’m so embarrassed.”

“Well, if I know her as well as I think I do,” Nora says with a grin. “She probably found your mess pretty damn cute.”

“You think so?”

“Totally. She digs the dorky ones,” she shrugs, handing you the fully stocked medical kit. “Just be real with her, okay? Everything with Owen did a number on her. I’d hate to have to kick your ass when you get back.”

“I don’t think this is that kind of trip,” you say. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

Leaning against the desk, Nora twirls a pen in her hands, lost in thought. The Salt Lake Crew, as you understand it, formed an unbreakable bond, strengthened by the shared experiences and obstacles they encountered while growing up together side by side. Though some challenges they faced have become distant tales, her face still carries the etching of the profoundness of their connection.

“I’m going to tell you something because I trust you, but please don’t make me regret it.”

The sound of the pen tapping against Nora’s thigh is quick and incessant as she gathers her thoughts. A small puff of air escapes her as she studies you intently from a distance.

“Fuck it,” she says, her lean hands gripping the tabletop. “Abby gets these—bad dreams, okay? Not all the time, but when she does, it can be rough. It’s why she goes out there alone.”

“Oh,” you breathe.

“Yeah. So, it’s a pretty big deal that she’s bringing you along this time,” Nora explains. “Please be good to her.”

----------------------------------------

The two of you venture outside the gates in the early morning, the scorching heat prickling your neck. The drought-stricken summer is the hottest you can remember in ages, dry grass crunching beneath your boots as you trek on.

You bring your shirt up to swipe at your sweaty face, drawing Abby’s gaze as it travels down your body.

This time, it’s her face that flushes with a rosy hue as she realizes you caught her stealing glances.

“It’s cool of you to help me out,” Abby says, redirecting attention. “Even though it’s boiling out here.”

“I thought about bailing, I’m not gonna lie,” you chuckle.

The heat and Abby’s quick pace are leaving you out of breath, but you’re determined to keep up.

“Why didn’t you?” she asks.

You reflect on Nora’s words and how she pleaded with you to treat Abby honourably. Her advice was to be authentic, and even though vulnerability can be frightening, you’re going to bite the bullet.

“I’ve wanted to get to know you for a while,” you admit. With the sun piercing through the trees, blinding your vision, you tightly clutch the straps of your backpack and hang your head. “I hope that’s not weird.”

Abby stops in front of you, and it momentarily obscures the bright rays of sunlight, offering you instant relief. The freckles sprinkled along her sun-kissed skin become more prominent, enhancing her natural beauty. She’s so pretty it makes your chest ache, and your thoughts run wild.

Kneeling, she hunts through her bag and pulls out a crumpled ball cap. When she stands up and carefully places it over your head, making all the necessary adjustments, flutters stir between your ribs.

“This hat is weird,” Abby says, her soft smile contrasting with her words.

Before continuing the journey, she pauses to fix a few messy tendrils of your hair, her touch lingering behind your ear for a split second. It’s enough to overlook the blazing temperature outside, mistakenly convincing you it’s only a sensation within your body.

“What about you—where’s yours?” you ask.

Despite her attempt to hide it, her smile is unmistakable as she tilts her head away.

“It looks better on you.”

“I highly doubt the accuracy of that statement,” you quip.

If you had known she was such a sweetheart behind closed doors, you might’ve summoned the courage to approach her differently. Life is brief, and it dawns on you how much time you’ve squandered in fear.

Amused, Abby shakes her head and then gestures for you to follow her. You would willingly accompany her to the deepest depths of the earth if she wanted. Fortunately, you’re already experiencing a preview of that, with the summer heat threatening to sear you like a salmon steak.

Abby jogs ahead of you, her eyes hooked on something beyond the treeline. You match her speed, eager to discover what has caught her interest.

She leads you to a lake, with its surface as clear as crystal, mirroring the vibrant emerald hues of the surrounding trees. Wildflowers bloom at the water’s edge, cradled between pebbles, their petals a delicate splatter of yellow and purple. A family of ducks glide gracefully across the surface, leaving ripples in their wake.

You wish you had something to offer them.

“Please tell me we’re going swimming,” you say, spellbound by the lush oasis and the promise of a refreshing dip. “I haven’t been to the lake for years.”

“Oh, fuck yeah,” Abby says, beaming at you. “Have you ever gone skinny dipping?”

Her teeth graze anxiously over her bottom lip, examining you—her watchful eyes appearing filled with hope that she didn’t unintentionally cross a boundary.

“Only in my bathtub,” you say with a nervous giggle. “But I guess that doesn’t really count.”

“You’re a total dork,” Abby teases. “It’s kind of growing on me.”

“I’ll take it,” you say, delighting in the way she impishly scrunches her nose at you. “So, are we doing this or what?”

“You first,” she says, her eyes gleaming mischievously as she flicks at the brim of your hat.

When you toss it aside, Abby lifts her shirt up and over her head, balling it up to pitch on top of her bag. Her smooth, honey-blonde braid sways between her exposed shoulder blades as she widens her stance, unfastening her leather belt. Her back is a landscape of tight, defined muscles that leave you feeling dizzy.

Abby’s gaze meets yours as she looks back, a trace of wonder dancing in her eyes.

“Like what you see?” she asks.

[abbyslapdog]

The Wolf and the Fox

I’m feeling rather sentimental lately, so I just wanted to pop in here real quick and say that kindness matters. Kindness for yourself, and for others. If your art, whether that be writing or something else entirely, helps you navigate this world—it matters, too. I hope you feel safe today, online, and in real life. This piece and all my work, really, is 18+ only. This one isn’t hot and heavy by any means, but there’s some violence and sexual themes sprinkled about. If you enjoy it, maybe I’ll chip away at another chapter. Otherwise, thank you so much for spending some of your precious time with my words and my mushy heart. Be well.

“This rivalry—whatever it is—ends now,” Isaac barks, pinning you both with a vicious scowl.

Abby crosses her stubborn arms across her chest, a snarl curled on her smug lips. You’re struggling to control the urge to roll your eyes with such intensity that they detach from your skull and land on the floor.

“Not a word from either of you?” Isaac says as his glaring frustration builds. He points irritably at the chairs across from his desk. “Sit down. Now.”

“But I have training in twenty minutes,” Abby explains, her meek manner only apparent when she is around the boss.

“I don’t give a damn—sit!”

Isaac raises his voice, making her flinch, and a sense of gratification fills you. It quickly dissipates when he directs it towards you.

“Did I stutter?” he shouts, kicking at the legs of your chair for emphasis.

As Abby turns her head, a smirk spreads across her face, igniting a fiery determination within you to bring her haughtiness crashing down by any means necessary.

“If it weren’t for him, I’d drop your ass right here,” you mumble.

She opens her mouth to retort, Isaac’s hands slamming down on the desk, causing both of you to jump.

“Consider yourselves lucky I haven’t tossed you both in the stockades. I need you to get your act together before the next raid. Otherwise, I would not hesitate. You embarrass me.”

Abby pinches the bridge of her nose, blowing out a heavy breath.

“Well, I’d hate to be the reason she ships off in a pissy mood,” you say, throwing your hands up in mock surrender. “Now you only have about a hundred other people to accost before she leaves.”

“Fuck you,” Abby says.

“Enough!”

Isaac leans back in his worn leather chair, and the metallic creak breaks the sudden silence of the room. The weight of his authority is suffocating, leaving your mouth dry, while Abby’s hands twitch anxiously beside you.

His finger jabs in her direction first.

“I expect more from you,” he says. “This ends here. Do you understand me, Abigail? I will not tolerate this petty behaviour.”

The verbal lashing doesn’t bring you any delight; instead, it serves as a painful reminder of her superiority over you and the respect the WLF has for her. Respect you’d happily offer if she didn’t treat you like a floating piece of swamp trash.

“You,” he says, his fury focused solely on your shrinking form. “I had high hopes for you. I’m now questioning my judgement and that does not please me. Are you trying to make me look like a fool?”

“No, sir.”

“Come again?”

“No, sir,” you say with conviction, dipping your chin in submission. “It won’t happen again.”

“Delightful,” he growls, his hands steepled in front of him. Sarcasm oozes out of his mouth like venom. “Tomorrow presents the perfect opportunity for you to address your troubles, as I’ve scheduled you both to ship out.”

Abby keeps quiet, but her head drops back with melodramatic flair. Your eyes involuntarily roll in response, unable to contain your annoyance this time. Isaac doesn’t ignore the barbs before him.

“With bells on, do I make myself clear?” he orders.

He gestures for you to leave the room, instructing Abby to stay behind for a mission briefing.

----------------------------------------

In the gym, you can feel the tension and stress melt away as you push yourself to your physical limits. Amidst the clanging of iron plates and the rhythmic flow of blood in your muscles, your restless mind finally finds peace.

In an act of defiance, you increase the weight on the barbell, determined to spite Abby even if she isn’t there to see it. With the image of her smug face behind your eyelids, you push yourself through six strong reps, feeling your arms shake on the seventh.

Vascular hands appear above you, hovering just below the bar.

“Spot someone else,” you huff, adjusting your legs and arching your back.

“Seven is good. Eight is better,” Abby says, standing her ground. “Again.”

As the vibration in your arms intensifies, your frustration towards her swells.

“Use it,” she advises, leaning in closer for better guidance. “Let that anger drive you. Again.”

You’re considering quitting and giving her a piece of your mind. You picture yourself ripping into her and leaving without a second glance. Her body remains rooted in place, an unspoken challenge for you to make a move.

It’s the heaviest load you’ve ever pushed, and you can feel every ounce of weight straining your muscles. A guttural whimper escapes you as you force the weight up. Only at the end of your final rep does Abby touch the bar, leaving you to swipe the sweat from your forehead.

“Not bad,” she says.

You hoist yourself up and off the bench, returning the dumbbells you previously worked. It’s late, and the gym is empty save for the gargantuan pain in your ass following you around like a sullen shadow.

“You’re just going to ignore me now?” she asks, leaning flippantly against the squat rack.

“That was the plan, yeah,” you mumble, attempting to restore order to the chaotic pile of free weights, likely abandoned by a soldier with an inflated sense of self.

“Your plan is total crap, but okay.”

Trying to maintain your composure, you shake your head at her arrogance, staying focused on the task at hand.

“Look, we should try to get along,” Abby says. “I don’t want this affecting what goes down out there. People depend on us.”

“Okay, Isaac,” you say, slinging your gym bag over your shoulder with a scoff. “I’ve wasted enough time with this. See you at zero six hundred.”

Her voice echoes behind you as you push through the gym doors and into the dim, vacant hallway.

“Don’t be late!”

If your arms weren’t so sore, you might consider the idea of flipping her off through the window.

----------------------------------------

The rift between the two of you didn’t happen overnight. It resulted from a multitude of minor incidents and one miscommunication that was blown way out of proportion. As Abby trudges ahead of you on foot, swearing up a storm under her breath, you’re reminded of this.

“You’re being too loud,” you say, breaking into a slow jog, trying to catch up with her massive steps.

Even as you approach a full sprint, your footsteps are blades of grass in the wind compared to hers. As she spins on her heel to glare at you, you can’t help but feel a pang of embarrassment at how out of breath you are, desperately trying to keep up with her.

“Cardio wouldn’t kill you,” Abby says, waving a dismissive hand in the air before striding off. “I might, though.”

You contemplate staying put, observing how far she goes before she finally notices your absence. It’s likely that she’d travel two states over before she bothered to look back.

“Duly noted. Since we’re on the topic of what wouldn’t kill us, how about you practice walking like an adult human?” you quip. “Instead of a full-grown safari animal. Are you trying to get us assassinated?”

“Just you,” she says.

You’d love nothing more than to fling a sticky ball of mud at the back of her head and leave her sputtering. Unfortunately, you are miles from home and stranded without the vehicle you left the stadium in.

“Screw this,” you exclaim, raising your hands in annoyance before veering off from her direction and choosing to follow your own path.

“Where the hell are you going?”

“Away from you.”

It’s incredibly reckless and potentially life-threatening, but common sense is the last thing on your mind. Before the WLF came along, you had already endured years of living outside the safety of the city walls. Currently, Abby’s actions are hindering concentration, and you’d rather deal with Isaac’s rage than spend another hour bickering with his golden soldier.

“You’re going the wrong way!” she shouts, her voice reverberating off the crumbling apartments.

Sudden, gurgled screams in the distance paralyze you. The racket seems to come from everywhere and nowhere at once, growing louder with each passing moment, turning your skin to ice.

“Oh, fuck!”

Chaos erupts as a group of decomposing Runners break through the glass doors of the building next to you, hell bent on tearing you apart. The sheer intensity of their shrieks overwhelm your senses as you fumble for your gun.

When Abby clutches your arm, it jolts you back to the present moment.

“Watch my six!”

With a swift yank, she hurls you behind her, rapid gunfire ringing out and adding to the deafening commotion all around you. As you empty your clip, the acrid smell of gun smoke fills the air. A runner emerges, and the lethal tip of your knife slides into his skull, dropping him like a sack of bricks. Your wrists ache as you slash your knife across any infected that break Abby’s barrier until you’re stunned by a pustular crawler who drags you to the ground.

Just as you think it’s all over for you; Abby fearlessly straddles the festering monster and snaps its neck.

With ease, she throws the corpse aside and pulls you up. Your wobbly knees collapse beneath you, expeditiously forged by gelatin and nothing more. Disorientation prevents you from formulating any brilliant escape plan.

You’re not sure how the two of you ended up barricaded inside an eighth-floor condo, but somehow you made the trek unscathed.

----------------------------------------

Spirals of peeling paint adorn the large, cracked walls, and you wonder how long the inhabitants survived when the pandemic struck. Despite the layer of mold and dust that coats every piece of overturned furniture, the scent of old leather wafts from the neatly aligned suitcases by the door.

You try to investigate who might’ve called this place home, but the clues are bleak. Empty picture frames rest on the fireplace mantel, with broken glass scattered about like grains of sand on a long-forgotten beach.

Abby disappears down the hall as you lose yourself in the moth-bitten curtains fluttering hauntingly against several fractures in the towering panoramic windows. It’s so quiet in this suite that you doubt anything is still lingering, even in the darkest shadows.

“Let me take a look at that,” Abby says as she flips over the loveseat, laying her jacket over its musty cushions. “Cop-a-squat.”

As you continue to stare at her, she fidgets, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. She clears her throat, gesturing at your ankle.

“You’re limping. Let me see.”

The adrenaline was pumping so hard during the fight that you didn’t even notice that you had rolled it at some point.

“It’s fine,” you dismiss. “We should check for scratches first.”

The snail’s pace you’ve adopted reflects your reluctance and Abby blows out a harsh breath.

“I’m clean, and that can wait—you don’t want that to swell up,” she says. “Come here.”

“Maybe I’ll turn when you’re busy playing doctor. Then what?”

You’re only half joking, but the way her mouth quirks up into a soft smile eases your mind. You can count on one hand how many of those you’ve witnessed on her. It’s a fleeting thought that you swallow down with the lump in your throat, but Abby is exceptionally pretty.

Yeah, you definitely caught Cordyceps.

“I decide who bites me and when,” she says, patting the sofa to hurry you along.

You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks as her comment sinks in. Her inquisitive gaze dissects your response, and her modest smile transforms into a full-bodied grin.

“That was too easy,” she teases. “An unsullied girl, huh?”

Plunking down in front of her, you watch as she kneels to inspect your injury with a light hand. A dull throb blooms along your foot as she presses and maneuvers it. You do your best to suppress any wincing, but the moment she rotates the joint, pain shoots up your calf.

She pulls a medical kit from her backpack and makes quick work of treating your ankle.

“You are way off track,” you say, trying to scrape your dignity off the stale carpet. “Your train is taking a dirt road—that’s how off track you are.”

“Got it,” she smirks, wrapping the tensor bandage snug.

“And who says unsullied? A gravedigger from the fifteen hundreds—Jesus,” you say. “I didn’t realize you were a whole two centuries old.”

When she looks up at you through her lashes and giggles, the sound is more infectious than spores. You chomp on your lower lip to keep from smiling, but your cheeks sting from suppression.

“I read a lot,” she says with a shrug. “Is that such a bad thing?”

Abby’s rugged hands linger as she rests your foot casually on her lap. The weight of her touch is more comforting than you’re willing to admit.

“I’m personally more concerned about your pale complexion and aversion to sunlight,” you say, wiggling your toes to keep the pins and needles at bay. “Does Owen know you’re a vampire?”

She rakes her teeth over her bottom lip.

“Is this where you finally confess you have the hots for him?” she asks. “You’re off the hook now that he’s no longer my problem.”

It’s as if the God of thunder himself dropped you in an ice bath. As soon as Abby mentions the flat-out conspiracy theory, it extinguishes the glee building between your ribs, leaving you deflated.

“I never had feelings for him,” you say, pulling your foot from her grasp.

“That’s not what he said.”

“Yeah, well, your boyfriend is a fucking jerk and a liar. But that’s obviously no surprise to you, given how everything shook out with Mel.”

As Abby’s heavy gulp echoes through the hollow room, you stand up just in time to avoid registering the pained look on her face. Although you may not be her biggest fan, it never brings you joy to see someone sad, never mind take part in it.

You attempt to distance yourself from the resurfacing memory of Manny’s party. The night Owen’s unrequited alcohol-infused advances made a mess of everything. Until that deceitful night, he had been a loyal friend to you, and it still unsettles you to remember the needless drama his cowardice brought about.

“His story checked out.”

“Oh, did it?” you chuckle humourlessly. “Supreme investigative journalism went on right under my nose, and I had no idea!”

“Why can’t you just admit it? It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“You know what, Abby? You’re dead wrong. But I don’t have to explain shit to you. I’m going to sleep.”  

With a purposeful shake, you rid her jacket of any dust before throwing it back to her. Driven by your determination to rise with the sun and get the long, miserable journey home over with, you stagger down the hall into the nearest bedroom.

Why did the damn Humvee have to malfunction and leave you deserted today of all days? If you didn’t get your butt handed to you on a silver platter, you would blame Isaac.

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You are roused from sleep by a faint, repetitive thudding noise coming from somewhere inside the apartment. You blink against fatigue, the sky momentarily captivating you with its mesmerizing gradient of rich purple and blue. The shabby blinds filter the light, creating a lattice-like pattern of warm orange strokes on the walls.

It dawns on you that this dwelling must have been opulent in a previous time.

You stretch your weary muscles and track the sound until the subtle drumming leads you to the balcony. As the first light of dawn breaks, you find Abby poring over a tattered book, her heels absentmindedly knocking against the broken balcony ledge. Her long hair is golden and untamed, cascading down her bare back in wild ropes.

Your voice cracks from disuse as you mumble, “That’s one way to flag our team down.”

Engrossed in her book, she fumbles around for her damp shirt, the fabric slung over a nearby chair. Your etiquette kicks in and you hand it to her, averting your eyes.

“There’s laundry detergent on the counter,” she explains, dog earing her page to in favour of dressing herself. “It’s ancient but it smells better than I did, I’ll tell you that much.”

“Would you come inside already? That looks like it’s about to collapse. Aren’t you afraid of heights?” you ask.

Backward, she crab-walks through the sliding glass doors, her movements awkward and unsteady. As she hops up, the aroma of freshly fallen rain clings to her clothes.

“It’s not so bad when I’m distracted,” she says, thumbing at the abandoned novel. “How did you know?”

“Heard it through the grapevine,” you lie, gnawing at the corner of your chapped lip.

Following your team’s impressive escape through a high-rise complex, Isaac was the one who brought it to your attention. He thought that your fearless leadership would blend seamlessly with her fierce leadership, creating a formidable force. Abby could be the anchor that helped you find strength in your most terrifying moments, while you could be the guiding light that helped her find courage in hers.

Despite its initial promise, Isaac’s lack of realism is well-known.

“What are you afraid of?” she asks.

In this world, there is an abundance of things, enough to fill a scroll ten miles wide.

“People, mostly.”

She purses her lips, a frown pulling her feathered brows together.

“I guess I didn’t help much with that.”

“Yeah well, you don’t owe me anything.”

Her expression contorts as if she’s itching to argue against that statement. You divert her attention from the process by prioritizing the task ahead.

“We should go,” you say. “While it’s still quiet out there.”

She nods, pitching the book into a prehistoric pile of ashes in the fireplace.

It elicits a flabbergasted squeak from you, and she’s beguiled.

“What?” Abby chuckles.

“Now you won’t know how it ends,” you say.

“Nah, I’ve read this ending a million times,” she says, staring after the discarded book. “It’s nothing new.”

You would retrieve it for her if it didn’t threaten to leave your hands and all your gear covered in soot. Maybe her assumption is flawed.

“You’re just a rainbow of positivity in the morning,” you razz, and she snorts at your proclamation. “No, really. I’m floating on air over here.”

“You’re funny,” she says, and the sincerity of her tone takes you by surprise. “I didn’t let those monsters turn you into a zombie. That’s got to count for something, right?”

You suppose it does.

She takes extra care not to appear intrusive as she reaches over to lift the backpack from your shoulder.

“I’ve got it,” she says. “I’ll carry the heavy stuff today.”

----------------------------------------

As you settle back into the FOB, Isaac has you on light duty work assignments. It has helped you heal over the past four weeks, and as you’re easing back into your gym routines, you’re feeling strong. You find yourself in uncharted territory though, as this is the longest you’ve gone without joining a supply run—but lending a hand to the cooks in the kitchen is surprisingly fulfilling.

Avoiding Abby in the past has made it easy to continue to do so, even unintentionally. The only connection you’ve had with her since returning to base was through the stack of blueberry pancakes you whipped up for her team, which ultimately got passed on to her by someone else.

Since the mention of her name no longer brings you emotional pain, you’re satisfied with where things are. That is until Abby unabashedly leans over the cafeteria counter and whistles at you, attempting to grab your attention from across the kitchen.  

“Hi pancake girl,” she smirks.

“Pancake girl?” you groan, drying your hands on your apron. “I’m officially banning you from assigning nicknames. I’m still recovering from unsullied.”

Abby’s mischievous expression brightens up the poorly lit mess hall before she quickly commits to a truly theatrical act of sulking—bottom lip jutted out like a little kid.

“Oh man, I hate being punished—for how long?” she pouts.

The line of people behind her seems to multiply, and you try your hardest to juggle multiple tasks, but it becomes incredibly difficult with her playful gaze fixed on you.

“The rest of your natural born life feels appropriate,” you say, sliding a jug of juice across the counter for a group of soldiers. “Or at least until you come up with something better.”

“I can work with that,” Abby says, shuffling aside to make space for the growing queue of hungry civilians. “Your pancakes were a hit, though. My squad won’t shut up about them—and I love blueberries even though they stain the shit out of my hands.”  

Amidst the busy kitchen rush, a fellow crew member steps in to lend a hand, giving you a chance to take a breather. You chug a glass of water before giving Abby your full attention.

“I think it’s time we teach you about some ground-breaking eating tools.”

“Is that right?” she grins.

“Definitely,” you say, grabbing a roll of cutlery from the cart behind you. “For example, this here is a fork and knife combo. Rather brilliant in preventing blueberry stains instead of eating your pancakes like a toddler.”

Abby’s chin dips as she snickers, her spirited mood doing a fantastic job of lifting yours.

“What about that spoon thingy—where does that fit in?” she asks.

“Well, when you bless me with another horrid nickname, I can use this tiny shovel to dig through the floor and escape.”

The sound of Abby’s laughter is magnetic, drawing in everyone around her. She effortlessly embodies effective leadership, and it’s something about her you respect.

“It’s not usually this easy to make me laugh,” Abby says.

“I’m just that good,” you retort. “Unless you’re drinking on the job or something. Are you a day drunk, by any chance?”

She can barely contain her fascination as she shakes her head and looks up. The chow hall fades into a blur as soon as your eyes meet.

“No, I think it’s all you,” she murmurs, her fingers toying with the cuff of her sleeve. “Come on a run with me, okay?”

The clamour of clattering dishes and trays makes it difficult to hear her.

“I didn’t catch that. Come where?”

“A run with me,” she says, pronouncing each word like she’s teaching you to speak for the first time.  

“They haven’t cleared me yet.”

“Not that kind of run,” Abby says, pushing herself back from the counter, brows jumping. “Meet me at the track later, yeah?”

Trying to bridge the growing distance between you, you shout, “How about no!” as she continues to walk backwards, awaiting your response.

Disregarding your answer, she calls out the exact time she expects you to join her, overpowering everything else with her radiant grin.

“But I hate cardio!”

“Don’t leave me hanging, lazy girl,” she chimes, shouldering through the doors until all that’s left of her is a whirl of confused flutters between your ribs.

Her sprightly tone gives that moniker a whole new meaning, making it the most tolerable by far.

By the time your shift lets up, the halls are serene, as most of the residents have retreated to their quarters for the night. By helping to prep the food for the next few days, you’ve lightened the load for tomorrow’s workforce.

Cardio with Abby is bound to leave you needing a rest day.

----------------------------------------

The stark contrast between the bustling stadium and the peaceful calm that descends after everyone wraps up their day never ceases to leave you in awe. You’ve spent countless hours in the nosebleeds, admiring the arena you call home.

While cutting through the gardens, the sweet, floral scent that fills the air enchants you. A basket of cherries precariously perches on the edge of an overturned crate, beckoning you to indulge in their juicy goodness.

After popping one into your mouth, you sneakily pilfer a few more for later.

Pushing through the gates with your hip, Abby catches your eye immediately.

Clad in a pair of sweatpants and a baggy tank top, she jogs along the opposite end of the track. Her hair is in a wavy, swinging ponytail, and she looks like a completely different person from where you’re standing.

Despite your instinct to sprint and catch up, your legs remain rooted to the spot, inexplicably frozen. It is surprising to see such grace in someone who’s composed of mostly muscle and grit. The idea of how you might look while running enters your consciousness, a thought that never occurred to you before this moment. You walk just fine. Surely you can run without humiliating yourself.

“You made it,” Abby pants. “I was beginning to think you bailed on me.”

“I should’ve,” you tease. “I could be cozied up on my couch, watching the same movie over and over.”

“Which one?”

“The Breakfast Club,” you say with a half-hearted shrug. It may not be to everyone’s taste, but there’s an elusive charm that entices you to keep picking it up from the library. “It’s my comfort flick right now, I guess.”

Abby flashes a self-assured smile and nudges you forward with her elbow, urging you to get a move on. After a few minutes of walking side by side, you work up the nerve to inquire about the source of inexplicable happiness etched on her cheeks.

“I found that one, actually,” Abby explains, her shoulder brushing against yours as she drifts into your lane. “The Breakfast Club.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“The thing made it through a hellish trip all the way from Eastern Montana. I thought it might be the only thing that made it back for a bit there.”

“That bad, huh? Sounds brutal,” you say, your attention drawn to the laces on her left sneaker, as they slowly loosen. “Well, good thing the movie survived.”

“Ha-ha,” she drones. “You’re just hilarious.”

You appreciate her lightheartedness as she shrugs off the playful jabs, and you contemplate teasing her about her lack of spatial awareness as she keeps unintentionally bumping into you. As you notice her shoelace giving way and dragging on the ground, you swiftly extend your hand to her chest, signalling her to stop.

Without thinking, you crouch down in front of her to retie it, noticing her panting heavily above you at the ministration. Fumbling your first attempt, she chooses not to mention it and instead adjusts herself to make it more comfortable for you.

With one shoe firmly secured by a double knot, you see that her other shoelace is gradually unraveling. You fix that one, too.

“Don’t need anyone rolling their ankle,” you say.

You spring to your feet, causing her face and neck to turn a rosy shade that appears too vibrant for moderate exercise. You’re too preoccupied warding off the heat that is climbing up your own neck in tingly vines to tease her about it.

She softly whispers her gratitude.

Without ever picking up your speed beyond a steady stroll, you continue to complete laps on the track, the repetitive motion becoming almost meditative. She eagerly shares details about the book she’s immersed in, and you hang on to her every word, intrigued by her perceptive theories.

“Wait, did you invite me here just to talk about books?” you ask. “Because I have to admit, I don’t totally hate it.”

“I’m not boring you to death?”

“Not at all,” you say. A crisp breeze dances across your arms, and you to hug yourself to fight the chill. “It’s fun to read books through your eyes.”

“Hold up.”

She jogs toward the bleachers and returns with her bomber jacket in hand.

She clings onto it for a while, long enough for you to question if she intended to wear it herself. Abby clears her throat and clumsily extends her coat and her generosity to you.

“I don’t mind the cold,” she says. “For you—if you want.”

“Oh, so I get to choose now.”

“Yeah, but can you please wear it? The rejection is killing me a bit.”

A smile tugs at the corners of your lips. Even when she’s just messing around, she reveals delicate parts of herself that help you understand her more. With the garment draped over your frame, you jog ahead and give her a spin.

“Ay! Watch that ankle!”

“Oh, I’m back, baby,” you boast, darting back and forth to show off your agility.

She watches as you frolic around, and you swear the dorky smile on her face only slips when she catches herself doing it.

You stop in front of her, tracing the nametag stitched neatly below the collar.

Anderson.

“It looks way better on you. How is that even fair?”

 “It’s all this running we’ve been doing—I’m the superior athlete now,” you jest. “You might as well quit while you’re ahead, Anderson.”

“Think you can back that up?” she asks, her competitive edge shaking to the surface.  

She points at a couple of lamp posts across the field and starts the countdown. With a sudden burst of energy, you take off like a bullet before she’s ready, provoking her to hurl fake threats after you as she closes in on your head start.

Your uncontrollable laughter is hindering your ability to run as the thunder of her approaching steps grows louder. You cut her off before she can pass, interrupting her momentum and taking the win by a hair’s breadth.

“Not cool,” she huffs, folding over at the finish line. Catching her breath, she steadies her hands on her knees. “Play stupid games, win stupid prizes, right?”

“You’re just jealous I outsmarted you. All those muscles and for what?” you taunt.

Abby puffs out her chest in a defiant gleam of rebellion.

As you blindly try to free the rogue strands of hair that have become entangled with your lashes, you feel an annoying tickling sensation on your sweat-slicked face.

“Oh, come on,” you gripe.

“You’re ridiculous,” Abby says, drawing nearer. “Let me get it.”

With a slight tilt of her head, she patiently waits for you to acknowledge her offer.    

“Close your eyes for me,” she says.

You oblige, and suddenly, your heart pounds in your chest as her fingertip skims the sensitive skin between your eyelid and your brow. She meticulously brushes your hair back, tucking what she can behind your ears. A warm hum settles inside you as her touch makes your scalp tingle.

“Why are you being so nice?” you ask.

“It’s what you deserve,” Abby murmurs without missing a beat. “I’m sorry I wasn’t before.”

[abbyslapdog]

it's because you're always on that damn vibrator

[abbyslapdog]

Not to get too tmi on here but everytime i see her arms my clit perks up a lil

[abbyslapdog]

fluffy xreaders 😩

Abby with reader who makes her world 🌎

Abby who met you during the worst time of her life, she felt sucked into the hard workload being a doctor came with.

She took a leave of absence to "re generate" and ended up switching hospitals to break free from the horrible city environment. She ended up moving into a smaller town that was in need of more doctors — which is how she met you

It was such a cliche, she was touring around the area and strolled upon your beautiful flower store, that had a beautiful girl to match it.

She didn't even want to buy flowers honestly, she just came to look around, but you were so sweet she couldn't resist. Hearing how appreciative you were with every customer made her want to buy the entire store.

you two hit it off quickly, she was working alongside your brother who was also a doctor. You offered to show her around and that's how it all started.

you were so extroverted it comforted her in ways she couldn't explain.

You're quite literally her human vitamin.

Her favourite part of the day is speaking to you. She loves to hear your voice, it makes her melt. unfortunately because of work she can't always call you—but you assure to send her so many heart warming texts throughout her shifts

Y: hi my love 💗💗💗 I hope your shift is going well, remember to eat well and don't stress too much !!

Y: also look at these pretty flowers i just got in 🌷🌷

A: hi sweetheart

A: thank you, everything is going well.

A: and the flowers are just as beautiful as you are

Despite loving your updates throughout the day, Coming home to you is obviously the best part of it all.

if there's one thing she's obsessed with, it's your smile, she loves how easily you smile 24/7 and how genuinely happy you are with life and how it rubs off on others.

Introducing you to her family and friends when she takes you back into the city was so, natural and simple. Everyone adored you, and she fell in love even more when she saw you so effortlessly socializing with them all.

You're just so refreshing to her, everytime she see's you she falls in love more. She sometimes feels like a little kid the way she crushes on her own girlfriend, it's so silly and cute.

another thing she adores is your comfort and affection, her love language is touch, and you reciprocate it so well. she can spend hours just laying next to you, you don't even have to speak.

Your both obsessed with healthcare, you, a little more than her... even though she's a doctor, and muscular, she sometimes forgets health is more than just exercise. Luckily she has you to remind her. despite you being a florist—you prioritize health over everything. Your vitamin collection is honestly impressive and it doesn't take long for u to start forcing abby to take them aswell, Though, she does swear you're the only vitamin she needs.

Speaking of you being a florist, she loves the balance between your job and hers. She loves how stressless your job seems for you, it contributes to your high enebergy that rubs off on her. It also contributes to how gentle and caring you are when it comes to her stress and hard work.

When you two move into an apartment together, she loves how you decorate it with all ur favourite flowers and art. She appreciates your creativity more than anything, it's something she definitely lacked in her life before she met you.

[abbyslapdog]

kit you spoke to me on a spiritual level with camgirl!abby i will get on my knees for more ♡

.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.

a/n; @andersonlore, ml, how could i say no to that? <3

pairing; sub!cam girl!abby x dom!gn!reader

synopsis; cam girl!abby needs you like the oxygen that fills her lungs. so, in your own way, you fill her just as much. (or, put simply, fucking abs before a mirror <3)

warnings; use of a strap-on (abby!receiving) referred to as reader’s dick or cock, reader uses sweetheart, baby, and pretty girl for abby, roughish sex, praise (abby!receiving), reader is a huge tease, abby films reader fucking her, reader films themself fucking abby, lmk if i missed smt! ♡ (which i prob did bc i’m so sleepy rn)

wc; 1k

.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.

imagine sub!cam girl!abby, phone in her shaky hands as she films you pounding into her from behind. she’s been craving you all day, but she couldn’t find a good time to ask you. it was only when you came out of the shower, wet hair, naked body, looking so pretty her knees buckled, that she expressed this dying need of hers.

and then, decided to fulfill it.

you and abby are poised in front of the mirror beside the very shower you came out of, your hands on abby’s ass as you take her from the back. “f- fuck!” abby moans as you squeeze down on her bottom, hard, possessive. each thrust grows quicker, more ravenous by the second, as you give the blonde all that she’s asking for.

“keep that camera up for me, baby,” you commanded as you saw the phone begin to slip from her fingers. she didn’t get why she couldn’t just prop it up. it’d make it so much easier on her.

but you wanted to make her work.

“how’s anyone going to see your gorgeous self if you don’t?” you ask her genuinely.

“th- they’re not,” abby whined. she didn’t want to have to admit that you were right. she would have preferred to prop the phone up like she always did in her videos. but when it came to having a partner like you? she knew full well that it wasn’t that easy.

you just loved to mess with her.

“that’s right, baby. so just take it for me, yeah?” you coo into abby’s ear, and she nods all too quickly in response. you’re deep inside of her soaked pussy by now as abby moans your name, cheeks pink, eyes locked onto the view of you rutting into her in the mirror.

you smirk as an idea crosses your mind. “aw. poor thing just needs to be filled,” you tease. purposefully, you pull yourself out of her, earning a low whine of disapproval as quickly as you had done it.

abby’s fingers can barely keep the phone in her large hand when you derive her of what she’d been wordlessly begging you for all day. she can’t get enough of you, and your absence makes her go crazy. “c’mon, please, don’t- don’t stop, f- fuck. please.”

you want to give it one more moment or so before you give her what she’s asking you for. but your own need bubbles inside you as her sweet moans fill your ears, and you’re desperate to hear them again.

you’re just as bad as she is.

“oh, sweetheart, i can’t when you beg me like that,” you’re all but gushing over abby as you slip back inside of her, hips rutting hungrily into your lover. abby’s quick to whine again, eyes glued to the counter you’re fucking her against. “you sound too good, baby, holy fuck,” you cuss.

“it’s you, god, it’s all you. you’re making me feel so, so- fuck,” abby groaned as you gave her an especially hard thrust of your hips. “good.”

“mmhm. can barely hold that camera up, hm?” you hum, a simper on your lips. it’s all abby can do not to roll her eyes at you as you keep going. in the end, she decided to keep her response in her head.

your pounding ensues for a while longer before you’re forced to grab abby’s phone from her. poor girl could barely comprehend the feeling of your cock inside her cunt.

much less hold a phone while she was doing it.

you aim the camera on her back as you fuck into her, your free hand on her ass as you do so. “fucking adorable. you see her? you see how pretty she is?” you whisper to no one but yourself, and the millions who go as feral for your girl as you do.

your words make abby’s embarrassment, her shyness, rush to her pale cheeks. her head goes down in seconds, eyes not on you, not on the mirror, but on the sink below her.

you weren’t the biggest fan of that one.

“nuh uh, pretty girl. look up,” you say it like an ask, but abby knows it’s a demand just from the way the words leave your lips. she does it, but slow, and you decide to help her along. you guide her by her braid, gingerly, and force her to look into the mirror once more. “there you go, baby. that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“no.”

you drive abby crazy as you pound her to no end, because you want to make sure she’s pleasured as much as she needs to be. it’s obvious when abby’s on the brink of release. her whines are so lewd they mimic crying, and her hips begin to push back against you as she allows her neediness to take over.

that’s when you prop the camera up, and you know abby’s wondering why the hell you didn’t do that earlier.

“you’re close, aren’t you, baby?” you ask, and her response is whiny, broken as she answers, “yes,” lowly so.

abby can barely hold herself back from letting herself go. she needs you to make her cum, but at the same time, she wanted this to last forever. “god, you feel so good, f- fuck, so good,” abby rambles. “iloveyou, god, iloveyou.”

that’s abby’s last tell that she’s close to cumming, and it always has been. she whispers how much she loves you, how good you make her feel, how gorgeous you are. it’s beyond adorable.

“mmm, i love you, too, baby. now, c’mon, almost there. you got it, sweetheart,” you praise your pretty girl as you push yourself as deep inside of her as you can go, pace hard and fast, a blunt converse to the way you’re speaking.

it’s not long before you’ve got her.

“yeah, baby, fuck, c’mon. cum all over my cock, good girl,” is what abby heard as she’s dripping all over you, just like you asked of her. she slaps her hand over her lips to muffle a lewd mewl of your name as she drenches your dick in her cum.

your neighbors already hate you as it is.

you’re not at all surprised when you see just how much abby came for you when you pull out. it had probably been building up all day, really. you can’t help but smirk as you grab the camera, and sink down to your knees behind her.

“look at all that. came so much, didn’t she?” you rasp, n’ you lap every last bit up for future viewers to see, unable to help yourself. you can see abby’s muscles jerk as she grips onto the counter, and a moan escapes her lips as you lick up her release like the hungry person you are. “mmm. could eat you all day, sweetheart.”

abby pouted as you got up from your knees, and she grumbled as you ended the video and saves it to her camera roll. “you’re such a tease,” she whined.

you chuckle at those words, and wrap your arms around her from behind, kissing and nipping at her neck in response. you link your arms around her waist as you pull her close to you, whispering, “yeah.”

“but you love me.”

.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.

reblogs are very much welcomed <3

.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.

[abbyslapdog]

good lord

HELP PALESTINE dono links, educate yourself, how to help

𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐈𝐈 𝒇𝒊𝒏.

₊˚ପ⊹ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝖮𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋𝖱𝗂𝖼𝗁𝖶𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇 𝖠𝖻𝖻𝗒 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

₊˚ପ⊹ 𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗎𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝗂𝗌𝖾 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗇𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖺𝖻𝖻𝗒 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗀𝖾𝗍, 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗅𝗒 𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗒 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒.

₊˚ପ⊹ 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒔 𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗀𝖺𝗉 (𝖺𝖻𝖻𝗒 𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝗂𝖽-𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝟥𝟢'𝗌, 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝟣𝟫-𝟤𝟤 𝗂𝗌𝗁) 𝖽𝗈𝗆 𝖺𝖻𝖻𝗒, 𝗌𝗎𝖻 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋, 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗉 𝗎𝗌𝖺𝗀𝖾 (𝗋!𝗋𝖾𝖼𝖾𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀), 𝗈𝗋𝖺𝗅 (𝗋!𝗋𝖾𝖼𝖾𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀) 𝗉𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗌𝖾, 𝗉𝖾𝗍 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌, 𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄/𝖽𝗂𝖼𝗄, 𝖺𝖻𝖻𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝖻𝖻𝖼 𝗂𝖽𝖼 𝗅𝗈𝗅

𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖳 𝟣 - 𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖳 𝟤 - 𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖳 𝟥

Another couple of weeks came and went.

Abby still kept her distance, and you did what you were hired to do.

The first weekend after the kiss was painfully, and irrevocably delicate. With her son being away at his dad’s, and Abby not being able to hide away at work, there was no distractions, which only made it worse.

You two would dance around each other, trying your best to look the other way when passing each other in the halls or in the kitchen, but her eyes would linger when you weren’t looking.

It felt like you were tormenting her with your short skirts and your sheer, tight-fitting tops.

How could she NOT look?

She started to feel like she deserved it for leaving you on the bed that day, all breathless, and heavy eyelids, weighed down by lust.

Abby thought she was doing it for the right reasons, you know… not mixing work with play, but over the past few days, she realized it wasn’t that at all.

She wanted to be prepared.

So while you were taking care of her son, feeding him, bathing him, and teaching him how to spell his own fucking name, she was out buying a strap to fuck you with.

Whether she was going to go through with it or not, she wasn’t sure.

But her time to decide was running out. It was the weekend again, the house quiet and clean, which means you weren’t busy, and neither was she.

It was one of those evenings where you could hear the crickets chirping from the tree line that surrounded the house, fireplace lit and dim.

You were sitting on the bed of your room, which became your more preferred hanging out spot since the kiss, not wanting to face the possibility of a more straightforward rejection from Abby.

And Abby was in the kitchen, two empty glasses in front of her, and her palms face down in the counter.

This is so stupid, she kept telling herself, her eyes glancing between the glasses and the bottle of liquor.

She poured some into one, and brought the rim to her lips, swallowing all of it with the tilt of her head.

Has it really come down to needing liquid courage to face you? Yes. Yes it has, but not because she was scared or nervous. She had a good thing going with you here, and didn’t want to scare you off or taint the image of her you had in your head.

She wanted to live up to your expectations.

For Abby, even if things didn’t go in that direction tonight, and instead became more of a peace offering to be in your good graces again, the anxiety felt worth it.

So, she poured more into her glass, and put it back, but not before getting out a more palatable alcohol from the cabinet, and rummaging through her fridge for a juice to mix it with.

She eyeballed as she poured a couple of shots into the empty glass and filled the rest with more pleasurable-tasting liquid, taking a deep breath as she grabbed the glasses from the counter and made her way to your room.

She tapped on the slightly opened door with the back of her knuckle, and waited for your response before pushing the door the rest of the way open.

“Hey,” She smiled, meeting your eyes, to which you happily greeted her back, closing the book you were previously reading and setting it down.

Her eyes widened, then furrowed, scanning her eyes down your body at the tank top, and shorts you were wearing.

“Shit, were you about to go to bed? I’m sorry.” Abby, once again, felt dumb. Of fucking course you were. It’s late, and she suddenly felt like she was intruding your space, momentarily forgetting that it was her fucking house, and you’re no different than a tenant.

But she never thought about it that way, at least, not since she first saw you.

“Wha-?” You looked down, and crossed your arms over your chest to hide whatever modesty you had left, “No, no…. It’s okay. I wasn’t.”

Good.

You scooted to the end of the bed, dropping your arm because hell, you wanted her to see.

You watched her eyes for a falter, a hint, anything, but they maintained contact with yours. You didn’t make it easy for her though, wearing clothes that left little to the imagination but covered just enough to have her feening, imagination running wild at the idea of undeniable access.

Abby cleared her throat, and extended her arm, “Made you something.”

You take the glass from her hand, giving her a confused smirk, and take a sip.

She sat down beside you a safe distance, but close enough that you could smell the pine aroma of her body soap.

“Better?” She asked, keeping the conversation light, and steering away of anything that might drive you away.

But you weren’t dumb, you knew she was only here to “clear the air”, but a part of you still held onto the hope she changed her mind.

“Much better.”

You continued to sip to fill the empty spaces between each nervous glance and chuckle, letting the alcohol warm you from the inside out, and Abby did the same.

Abby’s thumb twirled around the rim of her glass, looking down at the rippling surface before looking back up, “I’m sorry about the other day.” She spoke softly, and genuinely, her bottom lip pouting more prominently than it usually did.

“It’s not like I haven’t thought about it, it’s just-“ She paused, looking forward, and exhaled a deep breath, “You’re young. I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

This caught you off guard, but it made perfect sense. Abby has always been respectful and cautious about the topic, but you also felt relief that it wasn’t as one-sided as you originally thought.

You weren’t being delusional after all.

The confirmation of her attraction towards you gave you a new sense of confidence. “How do you know I’m not the one taking advantage of you?” You asked in a hushed voice, sweet, crystallized sugar on your tongue as you leaned in, and shit-

Abby liked to think she had more of a backbone- a moral compass to help resist her temptations, but that flew out the window as soon as you did this.

Abbys eyes darkened, flickering between your parted lips before meeting your gaze, perhaps to get the go ahead signal from you but your lips were already on hers, which was good enough for her.

You’re pushed back slightly and let Abby’s tongue take control, her hand on your thigh and thumb vanishing under the hem of your shorts, squeezing the fat dangerously close to your cunt.

Her hand moved to your face, cradling the space between your cheekbone and neck, pulling you into her before breaking away, “Let’s move this to my room, yeah?” She breathed, her voice excreting an excitement that she tried hard to withhold, but it still found a way to remain firm like it wasn’t a question at all.

And all you could do was nod, head already fuzzy, and a feeling of sticky discomfort between your thighs.

Abby led you to her room, her hand in yours and your smaller strides following closely behind her larger ones.

You’re sat on the edge of the bed, and she kneels before you, never breaking eye contact. And honestly, you couldn’t look away even if the embarrassment and nauseating flutter in your stomach wanted to, being so captivated and eager to comply to her every demand.

Her hand followed the curve of your calf down before coming back up, and she rubbed her palms over the soft plush of your thighs, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps.

Her lips grazed the inside of your knee, placing a gentle kiss, “Can I taste you?” She asked, so sweet that it could’ve been mistaken as asking to borrow a cup of sugar, but the reaction it had on your body (and your pussy) said otherwise.

An uncontrollable squeak emitted from your throat,

“Y-yes…”

Her hands squeezed the tops of your thighs, molding your flesh between calloused fingers before focusing on your waistband.

You lifted your ass as she tugged, pulling the pants down the length of your legs and past your ankles and dropping them to the floor.

“Oh my god-“ She groaned, marveling at the sight of your pretty pink panties, now made see-through with your own arousal, “All this from a few kisses? You’re dirtier than I thought.” She sneered, moving closer. And how hypocritical of her to say that when she’s not much better off at this point.

“Abby… please.” You whined, lifting your hips from the mattress in an attempt to find some relief.

Abby was also impatient, and as much as she wanted to take her time, treat you right, she also just simply wanted to please you.

She looped her finger behind the crotch of your panties and pulled it away from your cunt. You sucked in a sharp breath, sinking your weight back on your elbows, and squeezed the sheets between your fingers as she did this. The cold air hitting the new skin sends a chill across your limbs.

Something happened inside of Abby’s body. It’s one thing to see it, but to feel it?? Feeling the effect she had on your body- how wet you were, and how she could practically feel you try to suck her in even though she barely made it past the first knuckle… It was primal. A inextinguishable fire that kept burning brighter with each passing breath.

Your body is yanked down, ass pulled to the edge of the bed, and your thighs are thrown over her shoulders, her arms locking in around them.

You yelped at the sudden difference, looking down at her with a worried expression, but your head immediately falls back as her mouth encapsulates your clothed pussy.

You moaned, eyes disappearing into the back of your head.

She sucked, hallowing her cheeks around your bundle of nerves, and used her tongue to soak you through your panties with her spit.

Once again, she pulled the fabric down, tightening it flush with your cunt, and licked you through the ribbed cotton, letting your flavor seep into her mouth through the barrier.

But her patience was thinning. She needed to taste you properly, and she needed her hands free so she could hold your wriggling legs in place.

“I’m sorry” Was all she said, and you didn’t even have time to process it before you felt a harsh yank against your hips and the sound of fibers tearing apart.

-

Inhale, exhale.

Your wines hoarse, mouth dry. Crescent-shaped indents carved into Abby’s forearms and hands from your nails that were desperately grabbing at her- overstimulated and clit throbbing after the third orgasm of the night.

And she hasn’t even fingered you yet.

Her mouth detaches, and you sigh a breath of relief, but even with her absence, an uncomfortable buzzing still lingered.

She came up, placing both hands on the beside your face, and kissed you, slipping her tongue inside to give you a taste of yourself still on her tongue.

She started kissing you down your neck and chest, one of her hands sliding underneath your shirt, “Can you handle more?” She asked, lips grazing the surface of skin above your collarbone.

Inhale, exhale.

“Y-yes.” You nodded, tightening your legs around her hips, pulling her in because even though you were ran dry, you still craved the pressure of her inside.

She connected her lips with yours, and her hand placed itself around your jaw, cradling it. It was slow, patient, but also overpowering, made you feel even smaller somehow.

She pulled away, her lips still ghosting over yours, “Good girl.”

She gets up and turns away, disappearing behind the bathroom door, and leaves it open a few inches before re-entering a short time later, except nothing could have prepared you for this.

Inhale, exhale.

Shiny leather straps hugged her hips, dipping around the backside of the boxers and accentuating her ass, accompanied by the black silicone standing between her legs, big enough that it suited her size, almost seeming natural on her.

Your cunt clenches, and your thighs rub together as she approached.

Inhale, exhale.

She climbed on top, and your legs immediately open for her, welcoming her between them, and wrapping around her backside.

She was already inside, sinking herself in a couple of centimeters at a time and pausing in between to give you time to adjust to the girth.

Inhale, exhale.

You whined, nails etching across her back, and she was quick to soothe you with another kiss, “We shouldn’t do this.” She breathed between pecks but made zero attempts to stop it- in fact, she snapped her hips forward, filling you up with the last of her until the base was flush with your cunt.

-

Skin slapping against skin, beads of sweat tracing the edges of Abby’s forehead, and both of your legs hogtied together by her arm, holding them against her body, your feet dangling in the air.

Your ass wasn’t even on the bed at this point since she was quite literally holding you up, instead using her strength and size to her advantage to get the perfect angle inside of you, using you like you were her own little fuck doll.

It was rough, tender, but rough.

She’d check in on you, chanting little praises like how you were doing such a good job, but she’d also spew out a symphony of possessive remarks.

“Whose pussy does this belong to, hm?” And you’d muster the very little strength you had, mumbling exactly what she wanted to hear, your eyes rolling to the back of your fucking brain.

“That’s right… s’mine.” She’d grunt, picking up her pace, and slamming her hips into the back of your thighs, her strap bulging against the surface of your tummy.

“A-Abby…” You whimpered, but it hardly sounded like anything at all. You reached her hand that was squeezing you-holding you by the thigh, using it like a fucking handle to drill her cock into you.

“Abby..” you said again, trying to warn her of your impending orgasm, but she didn’t hear you, or she was just ignoring you because she doesn’t slow down, not even for a second.

Your eyes roll back before squeezing shut, limbs stiffening, “fuck, fuck, fu- ohmygod“ The plush of your bottom lip stung, edges of your teeth sinking into it before your jaw slacks. Your body trembles, hips bucking, but Abby still just holds you there and only pauses inside of you when your orgasm visualizes itself- a overflow of milky, viscous elixir seeping down the length of her strap.

She pulls out, dropping your legs to the mattress, and she’s panting heavily, the highs of her cheeks glistening against the warm glow of the lamp.

She’s hovering over you, kissing your cheek, and along your jaw.

She was being so, SO sweet, particularly because she felt bad for essentially bringing you to tears, but also because she was trying to make up for what she’s about to do next.

Her hands slip between the bed and your back, pulling you from it and lifting you up. Your legs are wrapped around her waist when your back hits a solid surface- the wall.

“Abby…” Abby you say, confused and still delirious, “what are you-?”

“Just one more… please. I know you can do it.” She was also delirious, words rushed and slightly slurred- trance-like, and dead set on being inside of you just to see how fucking dumb you get all over again.

It was like a drug to her, terrified of the consequences, the what-ifs, but once she tried it, she knew from then on she’d always crave more.

Now, she didn’t fucking care about the consequences.

This time, you initiated the kiss, and moan as her hands squeeze the fat of your ass, fingerprints breaking the blood vessels across your skin.

She pulls away, a loose strand of straight, golden hair blowing with her jagged breaths, “Tell me if it hurts, yeah?”

You nod, bitting down on your bottom lip as she lifted you higher, and angled herself below your cunt.

You cling to her neck as you’re lowered onto her cock, tears brewing at the corners of your eyes, and using her shoulder to mute yourself from crying out.

“Hey, hey… I got you“ She cooed, tilting her head so her lips were aligned with your ear, “You’re doing so good for me, baby. Just relax.”

Inhale, exhale.

Inhale, exhale.

She lowers you some more, hands gripping the underside of your thighs, and veins straining in her hands from the sheer amount of effort she was using to keep you steady.

You lock eyes with her, a pull between the center of your brows, and lips glossy with spit. You stretch around her, walls expanding to her size mixed with the new angle that proved to hit even deeper than before, which says a lot.

“That’s it… good girl.” The corner of her lips tug into an almost smirk, faint enough to miss it if you weren’t 5 inches from her face.

She started slow, scared to hurt you, and letting you grind your hips with her deep inside, but then she started to manually move you herself, lifting you and then guiding your hips as they came back down.

The pain was blinding, and casted white in the peripheral of your eyes. Your cheek slid across Abby’s shoulder, dampened by your tears, and that’s when she sped up.

You let out a cry, and your head goes back, slamming against the wall, but within seconds the pain lessens, instead being replaced by indescribable pleasure.

Abbys breathing heavily, her head resting in the crook of your neck, and yours hands interlocking behind her head.

It was so intimate, so vulnerable, and unlike anything either you have ever experienced in past relationships.

“Abby… I’m gonna- mmhm… gonna cum.” Your voice trembled, a rasp forming in your throat from the events that have transpired over the past three hours.

Sweat trickled between your tits, and strands of Abby’s hair stuck to her forehead in what seemed like a purposeful manner- swirled, and wave-like in design.

“I got you, I got you…” She said, her voice trailing off, becoming too focused on the stakes at hand.

See, Abby was scared of this night ending. Maybe it started as a forbidden crush in the beginning, but now?? With your eyes puffy, lashes wet and clumping together, and your pretty lips hugging her cock, she was no doubt in love.

You sing her name, pleading for her lips, and she immediately complied, kissing you as she both thrusted her hips into you, and moved your body up and down on her strap, surely bruising you for days to come.

As you come down from your orgasm, you loosen your grip on her, limbs feeling like jell-o, and she carefully lays you back down in the bed, leaving you for a moment to fetch a damp rag.

She’d be so gentle cleaning you up and leaving kisses across your chest and shoulders like her touch could reverse the deepening of the crimson splotches she left all over your body.

She’d also dress you, putting you in one of her t-shirts as soon as the opportunity comes because it’s something she has been thinking about for weeks at this point, not only the size difference between you two exciting her but also the fact that you’re wearing her clothes, which only makes her fantasy of you being her little wife feel that much more real.

When she’d determine you were sufficiently taken care of, she’d get in bed with you, pulling you into her arms with your back against your chest.

You hummed, a weak smile on your face and closed eyelids, falling into one of the best sleeps of your life.

Abby, however, didn’t.

Yes, she was exhausted, but all night as she held you, she couldn’t stop thinking about how the morning would materialize and how you’d react when she told you that she loved you.

𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 ೃ⁀➷ @aouiaa @macaroni676 @sheluvslilith @sapphicsuperstar444 @lmaoo-spiderman @williamsangel @falloutboy-lover @atyourmerci @mskbitch @r3starttt

[abbyslapdog]

Wash the dishes, make dinner, commit arson. As long as it’s on the list, it will get done for you baby girl

[abbyslapdog]

credits : @dinasno1gf on Twitter

[abbyslapdog]

SWIMSUIT ABBY SWIMSUIT ABBY SWIMSUIT ABBY SWIMSUIT ABBY SWIMSUIT ABBY SWIMSUIT ABBY SWIMSUIT ABBY SWIMSUIT ABBY SWIMSUIT ABBY SWIMSUIT ABBY SWIMSUIT ABBY SWIMSUIT ABBY

revenge gets ripped, abby and ellie edition

please credit me if you repost!!!! ❤️

[abbyslapdog]

damn, right in the trauma there

† Corruption †

Read pt.1 here

†

Summary: After that fateful night when Abby stumbled into your room and began her demise, she follows you into the showers to reconcile her sins

Warnings: smut, MDNI, switch!abby!?!?, switch!reader, heavy religion play indisone, fnv, cunnilingus, dirty talk yurrrr, no use of y/n

A/N: sorry this took 4ever I just really wanted to get this right and I still don���t love it but I must feed my babies. I mightttttt make a pt.3 that’s up to yall but either way I’m going to work on some other stuff so please send in recs!! (Also I know hotels don’t have communal showers just shut up and enjoy the porn:))) 

†

Your vision went blurry, plunging you into a coma that kept your breathing synchronized until you couldn’t remember anymore. Maybe all the heavy breathing took you out, maybe God was retaliating at your corruption of his loyal follower. Either way- it was a good way to go out.

When you woke up, severely late at that, there was no sight of Abby, she was gone like the wind. In any normal case, that was what you preferred. The useless banter, awkward cuddling and sentiments were far beyond you. But this felt different- she- was different. Not in a way that you couldn’t have her, an unforbidden love tragedy, but in a way that she altered every being in you. She fucked everything you knew.

Days went by with no interaction; you both avoided each other like the plague. She probably condemned herself the moment she left; fuck she was already in suit of redemption mid orgasm. You avoided her because you knew you couldn’t stop yourself. This wasn’t her way of life- it was yours. Sure, she initiated it, but you reveled in it, got off on it, desired more.

Your thoughts were selfish, self-indulgent, downright merciless. While your days were spent avoiding your unrequited love, your nights had grown breathless as your hand was shoved deep into your panties trying to get yourself off to thoughts of Abby, to no avail. It felt like your karma for fucking God’s favorite devotee. You wished she would hear your aimless attempt, swoop in and return your favor. But she never did, of course she didn’t, she feared her own fucking reflection.

After a week of thoughtless days and sleepless nights you decided to shove the night as far back as possible, stop ruminating on the idea of her. That’s all that night was, a desperate idea of what she could be without moral. That wasn’t the Abby anyone knew, and neither did she.

Friday was terrible, there was an attack at the camp and a few soldiers were pretty bad off. Since you were the only medic, you were tasked with treating multiple injuries at once, scaling them at the urgency of attention. In a sick way, you hoped Abby was hurt. You wished you could have tended to her, even in that light, any way you could get your hands on her.

The only sight of Abby was her bringing in wounded soldiers’ bridal style into your med tent. When she first arrived, it was the first words either of you had spoken in a week, only for her to bark at you about the incident and return with additional members. After she had carried all of them in, she stood and watched you tend to them for a second before you aggressively whipped back to her with a, “I got it, stop breathing down my neck.”

You weren’t trying to be harsh with her, but the last thing you needed was her presence in the wake of this monstrosity. She had already clouded your every thought, and this was not the time to finally have her at the tips of your fingers again.

After hours of stitching, compacting, and amputating wounds you were spent. Blood trailed up and down your body, caked in sweat and dirt. You were barely mobile at this point, but the thought of going to bed decorated with the blood of your friends was unnerving.

You set off to the communal showers in the middle of the rundown hotel, it was so late at this point that you were guaranteed a peaceful shower uninterrupted by any needy suitors. You removed your blood adorned clothes, dropping them to the cold white tiled floor and started the rusty shower head.

The hot water drowns your skin as blood and dirt trail down your body into the drain, you let it soak in your tired flesh as you let the day out of you. You let your fingers run through your tangled hair when you hear a creak of the door open, causing a heavy sigh to linger out of your breath.

The last thing you wanted to do was having to entertain the presence of someone else so you decided to ignore the rustling, continuing to wash through your dirty locks.

Your peace was faltered as you left a breath coming from behind your neck, heavy in almost a pant. You feel strong hands whip you around to face your attacker, and shoved into the cold back tile of the wall sending you into a gasp. Abby stood before you, already stripped of her clothing, the water fell in between your bodies and into your open mouths.

Her hands still gripped at your waist, “touch me and don’t make a fucking sound,” she aggressively whispers low enough so no one could hear, as if it wasn’t the middle of the night, or that the water wouldn’t muffle out any noise, maybe she was that scared of being caught.

“Abby if you think this-“you begin to protest when she cuts you off by pulling you in by your waist to kiss you like a woman starved. It had only been a few days, but she gripped onto you like it had been years, years since she let herself go out of morality. You wanted to stop yourself, tell her you wouldn’t live this lie for her, but your body had a different agenda, it ached for her touch, anything she would give you.

She pulls away from you to simple mutter out a “please,” and you were convinced. It was like a parasite had wormed its way into you, you had gotten just as starved as she was. Without a beat you sunk to your knees as the water flooded your vision, the only sight was her sticky floods pooling between her muscley thighs. You attacked her pussy with your lips spewing a guttural moan out of her lips, she gripped onto your soaked hair for leverage. Her grip on your hair was almost painful but you couldn’t stop lapping her slick into your needy tongue to stop her.

Abby was already shaking from the overstimulation, you couldn’t pace yourself, you needed her to cum for your own validation, to know how much she needed you. Even if she never touched you, you were still fulfilled by the act. “F- fingers pl-ease” she says muffled by the water drenching you. You turn up to watch her plead tongue still deep into her slit, mascara running down your face as the water pelleted your eyes.

“D-ont look at me like th- this,” her mouth agape, she looked like she was crying, maybe she was, maybe it was the hot steam. You run a fat strip from her leaky hole up to her clit never leaving her gaze, she couldn’t look away and neither would you. “What are you going to do if I don’t Anderson?” You say with a cocky smirk and drive your tongue deep into her cunt again making her shake.

With an angered grunt you feel your hair being pulled up so that you’re back to your feet, you let out a wince from the pain before she throws you back onto the tiles, this time you had been too worked up to feel the chill of them on your skin. She places her left hand onto the titles next to your head, the veins in her arms bulging from using them to pull all of your body weight by your hair.

Her chest is flesh with yours that you can feel your bodies breath’s heave back and forth, eyes drilling into each other. “Fingers.” She demands. You didn’t realize you were so in shock by her aggression your hands were pinned at your sides, you moved them down her chest slowly, feeling every chiseled-out crevasse on her. Her breath only becomes more rapid as you draw your fingers closer to her aching cunt.

She whimpers out a “fuck,” as your fingers reattach to her clit, rubbing slow enough to relieve the pain but not enough to get her off. You watch as her head finally drops, and her arm shakes next to your head. Her cross was laid messily on her chest, flipped backwards, you hold back laughter as you think to yourself how God couldn’t watch this right now.

“You like getting fucked by a girl huh Anderson?” You dip your head closer so that you’re in her ear now, “you touch your little pussy every night since I made you cum, yeah?” You taunt and tease her as she whimpers into your ear. “St-op it,” she begs with her head nuzzled into the crook of your neck in a way to almost hide herself.

“Its okay baby, tell me how much you like getting fucked like a godless whore,” you start to circle her clit harder and faster so you can watch how much she likes it. All she can spit out in return is a desperate “fuckkkk,” and you know you’ve broken her. “D- don’t let me cum- I- I don’t deserve it,” she moves her head so you can see her now and begins panting on your lips.

“oh no Im going to enjoy watching you break again,” you say back with a wide grin, reveling in her desperation. You’re ready to dip your fingers into her dripping folds when you feel her free hand travel up your thigh. Her hand finally meets your cunt and she grips it harshly causing you to buck your hips into it.

“A- abby what are you d-doing?” Every emotion hitting you like a ton of bricks. Why was she touching you? This wasn’t her thing, not her job, that was your job. Would you be able to stop her? Control yourself? Let her have you? Why did she feel so fucking good when she was barely touching you?

She continues pulsing her palm into your aching cunt, “just let me try,” she breathes out against your soaked lips. Your fingers begin faltering at her clit, you try continuing your pace but it slows as her palm rubs against you.

She follows your lead by tracing her thick fingers through your slick folds, you bite down on your bottom lip to hold back from exposing yourself. When she begins circling your clit you can’t help but to whimper a choked out, “fuck just like that,” she was doing so well already.

She seemed pleased by her work, letting out a moan that followed your own. She was getting off on your pleasure instead of her own at this point.

You are barely able to keep your pace on her clit anymore, so engulfed by the feeling of her rough fingers on your swollen clit. She removes her fingers from your clit to move your hand off of her own clit, moving it so your palm lay against her chest.

She returns her fingers back so that only you are being pleased by her. You couldn’t believe that this was the first time she had done it, she felt like she was made to touch you, circling your bud like it would bring her to salvation.

Words were barely at the forefront of your mind at this point but you needed to ask her, “di- did you do all of- fuckkkk- ju- just to fuck me?”

She pierces her bright blue eyes into yours to make herself clear, “I worship you,” she says as she dips her long, thick ring and middle fingers deep into your cunt, immediately inching your g spot. The palm of her hand grazing your clit to give just enough friction.

All you can muster up to respond with is a guttural scream that rips through you, causing to use the hand that was placed on the wall to cover your mouth quickly. “Shhhh pretty girl I know I know,” she coos.

You bring her fingers into your mouth for leverage, anything to keep you from losing all control. Her pace quickens as she feels your walls clenching around her dripping fingers. How the fuck does she know you’re close.

As you begin nearing your climax, your mind runs free from all morality, she begin corrupting you just the same, driving out what you knew and replacing it with only her.

You didn’t even know you were doing it, not until she moved her fingers out of your mouth to understand you, “abbyabbyabbyabbyabby” with your eyes rolled, head slack on the tiles you begin worshiping her, praising her ever being like a mantra.

What brought you back to consciousness was the heavy breath and the ringing of your own name in a mantra beside your ear. You had never repented before, but she had begun her reconciliation along with you. If this were to be your religion, you’d give into her over and over again. At your knees to serve her, punished at your wrong doings and give penance for your sins.

“Serve me with your completion, give your god what she deserves,” she demands. You couldn’t disobey your savior, she showed your needy body mercy, and you must obey her.

It all hits you like a wave, all you can see is white as your body trembles under her. You can’t recall screaming but she moves her hand over your mouth. Your entire body shakes as she rides you over your high, kissing your forehead as you bite into her fingers, never letting up on her pace until she knows you can’t take it anymore.

As all of your limbs give out she slowly moves her fingers out of your abused pussy, picking you up before you fall straight into the hard tiles. She gently places you onto the tiles in front of her, holding you by your waist as the water floods from above you.

You try to mumble out something but she stops you with a quick “shhh I’m going to take care of you,” as she begins to wash out your hair gently. You lean your head into the crook of her neck and she lays peppered kisses from your shoulder to your neck.

“Please don’t run off again…” you muster up as she threads her fingers through your hair, “you’re all I know.”

“You’re all I have.”

Taglist: @wishbones999 @bookpagecandlescent @littlegingerperson2

[abbyslapdog]

No lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the bedroom, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponential, logarithmic, while i gasp for air, scream and the upside down, on the floor, on the bed, on the couch, on a chair, being carried, against the wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in the car, on a motorcycle, the bed of a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce house, in the pool, bent over, in the basement, against the window, have the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking, fist clenching, ear ringing, mouth drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffling, eye watering, eye rolling, hip thrusting, earthquaking, sheet gripping, knuckle cracking, jaw dropping, hair pulling, teeth jittering, mind blogging, soul snatching, over stimulating, vile, sloppy, heart wrenching, spine tingling, back breaking, atrocious, gushy, creamy, beastly, lip biting, gravity defying, nail biting, sweaty, feet kicking, mind blowing, body shivering, orgasmic, bine breaking, world ending, black whole creating, universe destroying, devious, scrumptious, amazing, delightful, delectable, unbelievable, body numbing, back worthy, can’t walk, head nodding, soul evaporating, volcano erupting, sweat rolling, voice cracking, trembling, sheets soaked, hair drenched, flabbergasting, lip locking, skin peeling, eyelash removing, eye widening, pussy popping, nail scratching, back cuts, spectacular, extraordinary, splendid, phenomenal, throat blasting, mouth foaming, heavenly, awakening, devils tango and I’d still bounce on it. <3

[abbyslapdog]

STOPPPP I'M (S)CREAMING

stopppp this gif is so short haired Abby

[abbyslapdog]

like real people do

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA

pairing: abby anderson x fem!reader

description: abby is one hundred percent, totally, and completely straight. that is, until she meets y/n.

warnings: UNEDITED, swearing, slight hints of nsfw, alcohol consumption, a hint of homophobia? (not really but just in case)

words: 5.9K

date posted: 08/02/24

The years had not been kind to Abby. By the time that she and her friends were celebrating her twenty-first birthday, the woman had suffered many losses; the death of her mother at a young age, her father’s murder a few years back, and most recently, her breakup with Owen. She was quick to discover that the universe was not exactly on her side. 

From her perspective, Owen was not just a boyfriend. Of course, he was hardly even that at most times, but he also represented the time in her life where everything was good; Salt Lake City, spending time in the woods with him and her dad, playing stupid little games to pass the time with him, Manny, and Mel…he reminded her of when everything was easier. She sometimes felt guilty for this, considering that she sometimes couldn’t tell whether her emotional attachment to him was because of how much she cared for him or for the impossible standards she’s always held him to. 

Seattle represented a new beginning for her and her friends. They were able to find a new community, stay together, and live a semi-normal life that even the Fireflies were unable to offer them. Things were good there, people generally liked her, and she was quickly making her way up the ranks as one of the top WLF soldiers, though there were certainly some downsides. At the WLF compound, she began to see things in a new light; She was able to focus on herself for once, do the things that she wanted and branch out more than before. She was no longer limited to the small world of the few Fireflies who actually made it out of Salt Lake City. 

It’s for this reason that she holds herself at least somewhat accountable for how things ended with Owen. Of course, she didn’t blame herself for his infidelity, nor for him choosing to do so with one of her closest friends, but she knew that it was her distance that caused the rift to form between them. She felt betrayed by them, obviously, but as time passed, it seemed clear to her that she was more hurt by the fact that it was her two closest confidants who had caused the pain, not the fact that Owen and Mel had been sleeping together for months before she and Owen called it quits. 

Her saving grace during this period of her life came in the form of someone she would later consider her best friend, despite how offended Manny gets each time she calls her that. Her first interaction with Y/n was the moment that she knew she needed to have her in her life, one way or another. 

She hadn’t noticed her right away, but who would? Amidst the thunderous crowd of the cafeteria just before lunch, it would be nearly impossible to notice anyone who she wasn’t directly looking for, which in a way, is how Abby noticed her to begin with. Manny was actually the one to sniff her out first, as he so often did with pretty girls, his midnight black hair standing out against the white fluorescent lighting. She beelined for him, an annoyed expression crossing her features as she figured out the reason why he’d been late for patrol.

“Manny!” She barked, “How many times do I have to drag your ass to the gate before you actually show up on ti–”

Her attention was immediately caught by the figure sitting across the table from him, eyes falling on a young woman with a look of shock on her face, clearly concerned by the large woman who’d nearly pulled Manny out of his seat with only one hand.

“Abby!” He greeted, doing his best to brush it off, “I was just on my way to meet you when I got distracted by this one,” He winked at the girl with a laugh, “Don’t blame me, it’s entirely her fault. Cierto, hermosa?”

Every engorged muscle in Abby’s body had to hold her back from physically gagging at his obnoxious charm, but she was a bit relieved to see that the girl did not seem to be falling for it so easily. 

“Whatever,” the blonde shook her head, trying to suppress any of the nerves that seemed to have wormed their way into her bloodstream under the girl’s stare, “We’re late, and I’m not taking anymore shit from Isaac over you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” He shrugged, slinging his backpack over his shoulder as he began to head towards the door, offering a short goodbye to the girl before jogging to catch up with the blonde, who’d sped off in an attempt to get herself away from the girl. 

“Cute, right?” He asked, a knowing smirk on his lips.

She shrugged, “Yeah, your standards seem to be on the rise, finally. What ever happened to the medic–what was her name again? Ginger?”

“Me and Y/n? In my dreams, sure,” He stared at her with a raised brow, “I’m not exactly…her type.”

Something clicked in her mind, and made the twisting feeling in her gut worsen. Goosebumps prickled at her skin as she thought back on the roaming stare of the girl in the cafeteria–Y/n, as Manny had called her. Had she been checking Abby out? And why did that idea excite her so much?

“Oh,” she hummed.

“You, however… you definitely were. Did you see the way she was looking at you? Like she wanted you to–”

“Shut up, would you?” She sneered, “I’m not–that’s not–”

“I know,” he sighed, though a knowing look crossed his features, “I know.”

A few days had passed before Abby had run into Y/n again, only this time, it was a much more pleasant interaction. Abby had been spending a lot of time in the library, especially since her breakup with Owen and even ended up sleeping there some nights when Manny took the liberty of reserving the room for himself and whatever girl he was dating at the time. She found some peace there, burying her nose into random books from before the outbreak and pretending that, for just a few minutes, she isn’t just the top scar killer in the WLF. There was hardly ever anyone else there, which was a definite plus; She still had a long way to go before she’d be used to all the attention she gets around the arena. This day in particular. though, someone else occupied her usual seat in the furthest corner, by the window. 

She jumped in surprise at the sight of another person in her place, holding her palm to her chest to hold in any noise that may have emitted from her throat. The girl raised her head to look over the thick spine of the hardcover book she was reading, surprise evident on her own face as well.

“Sorry,” Abby choked out, “I just wasn’t expecting…I’m usually the only one here.”

“Oh,” Y/n sat up straighter, laying her book page-down on the table in front of her, “Yeah, I usually take the book back to my room, but my roommate is a little…busy at the moment.”

Abby snorted, “I get what you mean. Mine too.”

There was a beat of silence before Y/n chimed in again, “What are you reading?”

Abby glanced down at the book in her hand, eyes scanning over the faded words on the cover. She actually hadn’t known what book she’d taken off the shelf, just slowly making her way through every book in the library, “Uh, Jane Air–Eyre. First one I grabbed.”

“That’s a good one,” Y/n nodded, “One of the classics, I think they used to call them.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Abby mentally kicked herself, of course she would completely blank in front of the girl she’d been thinking about all week (but she was still, totally not into her). “Uh, what about you?”

Y/n smiled, “A Complete History of the Western World. Call me nostalgic, but I like learning about how things were before.”

“Me too,” Abby smiles, “In a way, it’s kinda comforting to see that this isn’t how things always were, you know?”

Y/n grinned, which quickly turned into a frown, “Sorry, I didn’t even…I’m Y/n.”

Abby smiled tightly, cheeks burning red as she reached forward to accept the hand offered to her, “I’m–”

“Abby,” Y/n smiled bashfully, “I know. You’re Manny’s friend, and sort of a big deal around here.”

Abby shrugged, the red of her cheeks now stretching to reach the tips of her ears, “Yeah, that’s what everyone seems to say. Not sure if I really live up to that expectation, though.”

Y/n chuckled before glancing down at her cracked wrist watch, a wrinkle appearing between her eyebrows as she closed her book and stood up from her seat, “Sorry, not trying to run away from you or anything, just lost track of time. Talk to you later, Abby.”

The next few weeks passed with several more interactions between the pair, and Abby would actually consider Y/n to be a friend. They could often be found in the library together, or grabbing a bite to eat with one another and sometimes a few others. Manny often grumbled about Abby swooping in and stealing his friends, but he always seemed to be more than happy to see the two of them together. That strange feeling did not disappear, though, like Abby thought it would. In fact, it got considerably worse.

Instead of having a little bit of nerves around her, Abby was struggling to keep herself from constantly pulling her into her lap, or reaching out to hold her hand across the table, or to tell her how deeply in love with her she wa–except Abby is straight. She likes guys. She dated Owen, and she was deeply hurt by his betrayal, right?

That’s what she told herself. Each longing to touch Y/n was just her own loneliness talking, every time she wanted to be held, it was her basic human need for affection, not because she was romantically or sexually interested in another woman. In fact, she had a little bit of a crush on one of the guys she went on patrol with the other day, or so she told Y/n. She made an effort to make it abundantly clear to the girl that there would be no romantic relationship between them, and was relieved when Y/n didn’t seem to put off by it. She continued to hang out with her, and to invite her to different social events around the arena.

This one was different, though. Abby went, fully intending to spend the night by Y/n’s side, people watching and making fun of Manny as he struck out time and time again. She had arrived to the party with Nora, a bit of pep in her step as she slid into the common area, face falling as she immediately took notice of Y/n on the couch across the room, a soft smile on her face as she listened intently to whatever the girl next to her was saying, her arm curled loosely around Y/n’s shoulders.

Abby felt sick, almost giving in to the instinct to turn and run, and she is positive that if it hadn’t been for Nora being right behind her, she probably would have. She hesitantly stepped further into the room, glancing around awkwardly in hopes of finding someone to hide her from Y/n before she could catch her attention, though it only took a moment’s glance for Y/n to turn her head and shout, waving both Abby and Nora over to where she and the other girl were sitting. 

The girl’s name was Samyah, and Abby decided on the spot that she hated her. She hated the way that she talked, the way she dressed, they way she smelled, the way that Y/n looked at her, and most of all, she hated the way that she held Y/n’s hand as she led her out of the common room, hooded eyes making it clear what was about to happen. But it didn’t really matter, because Abby is straight and this wasn’t going to last anymore than one night.

Except it did. Weeks later, Samyah was still very present in Y/n’s life. Abby cringed every time she had to witness them kiss, or touch each other in any way beyond what could be considered platonic. She prayed every night that something would happen, that Samyah would cheat or die out on patrol, anything to have her away from Y/n for more than a few hours at a time, but when it really happened, she couldn’t help but fear that she may have willed it into existence–Abby wasn’t a religious person, but this seemed to be a bit too on the nose for it to not have been divine intervention. 

Y/n and Samyah had been hooking up for a few weeks when Y/n turned up at Abby’s room, cheeks glossy with tear stains and eyes burning red. Abby was quick to take her into her arms, ignoring the selfish part of her that was singing at the mere contact. She held her tightly, sitting her down on the edge of her bed and stroking the back of her head soothingly, waiting for her to tell her what had happened. 

“Let me know when you’re ready to talk,” She had whispered into her hair before pressing a firm kiss there.

It was less than a moment later when a sharp sniff could be heard and Y/n’s watery voice began to retell what had taken place earlier that evening.

“Samyah has a boyfriend, apparently,” She wept, “She told me she isn’t gay, she just wanted to see what it was like.”

Abby’s entire body burned hot with anger, and then with embarrassment. What would Y/n think if she were to tell her that she’d been wondering the same thing? How would she be able to move forward knowing fully-well that she was no different from Samyah, someone who she had been condemning over the way that she treated Y/n? 

But was it the same? Was it really? Since she had met Y/n, she hadn’t even glanced twice at Owen, let alone any other man. She was all she could think about, day and night, and yet she still couldn’t seem to come to terms with the fact her feelings for her might have been more than platonic. It wasn’t as if she were too ashamed or was actually against the idea of her dating another woman, she was just confused as to why these feelings hadn’t come up before. Sure, there were times where she thought Mel was the prettiest girl she’d ever seen, but that was back when there weren’t many other girls around (and she wasn’t screwing her Abby’s boyfriend), and there was once where she’d had a rather promiscuous dream about Nora, but nothing had ever evolved further than that. 

These thoughts started to keep her up at night. She liked Y/n, she really did, but was it worth risking her friendship only for Abby to decide that she wasn’t gay at all? What if she was just curious? It was normal for people her age to be interested in exploring these things, only she was sort of stuck in a situation where she was unable to. She couldn’t go to Y/n for help with this, that much was blatantly obvious, but what about someone else? She tried to think of other girls she could go to for help, but there was no one who she could immediately think of that she could go to without also risking her friendship with Y/n; she’d been insistent early on in their friendship that she was not interested in women at all, especially when Y/n made it clear that she most certainly was, and more precisely, in Abby, so what would she think if she found out that Abby had slept with another woman after insisting that she wasn’t interested? That might be more dangerous than going to her for help.

It was getting harder to ignore, as well. Y/n was increasingly dependant on Abby for comfort for weeks after she ended things with Samyah, not that Abby minded, but it was growing more difficult not to hold her to her chest as they share a pillow every night, to not reach out and take her hand every time they walk side-by side, to not push her onto the bed every time she undresses in front of her, to pin her down and–

Then Y/n moved on. She was still quite upset, but she had decided that she wasn’t going to spend any more time dwelling on someone who obviously did not care about her, so she met Reagan. Abby didn’t hate Reagan the same way that she had with Samyah, she clearly liked Y/n and treated her as well as she could, considering that they were in the middle of the apocalypse. She was funny, and she fit in with the rest of their friends better than Abby would have liked; she wanted to hate her so much, but the only reason she could think of was purely out of selfishness, that being the fact that Y/n spending time with Reagan meant that she was not spending time with Abby, and after a few weeks of near constant contact with one another, Abby was sure she was going through withdrawals.

It all came to a head when Manny demanded that she take some time off of patrol. With Reagan always around, she had taken it upon herself to start accepting extra duties to avoid having to spend time with the group, and more specifically, Y/n. He’d made some arrangements and assigned someone else to her shift without even telling her, and all but dragged her down the hall and into the rec room. Y/n and Reagan had yet to arrive, but Abby knew that, if she was going to be forced to sit and watch Reagan practically hang off of the girl that she was probably in love with, she was gonna need a drink.

Abby wasn’t normally a big drinker. In her early days in the WLF, there had been a few times where she’d had more than she probably needed, but it also meant that she didn’t necessarily have the highest tolerance, especially with Manny being the one mixing her drinks. He’d been more than excited when Abby went for her second drink, and decided that they needed to go drink for drink with one another. Needless to say, by the time Y/n arrived, Abby was drunk. 

“Abs!” The voice sounded excited as they curled their arms around Abby’s neck from behind, leaning over the back of the sofa she was sitting on to hug her warmly, “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

It almost felt like time had stopped the moment her eyes landed on Y/n, admiring the glint of the dim lights on her clean skin. Her hair was still damp, she’d just showered before coming to the party, and Abby couldn’t help but wish she’d also done so by the pooling of sweat on her forehead and palms. She leaned her head back against her shoulder, turning to glide her nose against her neck in a much more affectionate manner than she would have if she had been sober.

“Hi,” She mumbled, “You smell good.”

“It’s the lotion we found on patrol a few weeks ago,” Y/n laughed, “And you’re drunk.”

Abby shrugged, “No, just a little tipsy.”

Nora scoffed out a laugh as she plopped down on the armchair next to her, “Tipsy? Please, she’s been letting Manny mix her drinks all night.”

Y/n pulled away, leaving Abby to let out a small whine of defeat, “Uh oh. Something must be wrong to have you drinking Manny’s concoctions.”

“Hey!” The latino appeared seemingly out of thin air, “You’ve just lost yourself drink privileges.”

She raised her hands in surrender, “Not the threat you think it is, pendejo.”

Y/n threw herself onto the couch next to Abby, settling close enough for their arms to press against one another and sending Abby into what she assumed could only be early heart failure. 

“Seriously though, where’ve you been?”

The blonde shrugged once more, “Busy, I guess. Lots of patrols needed to be covered.”

“So you covered…all of them?”

Abby was quiet for a moment, then quickly changed the subject, “Where’s Reagan? Aren’t you two basically attached at the hip or something?”

The smile on Y/n’s face flickered for a beat, and Abby immediately felt a pang of guilt squeeze at her stomach and regret filled her for hurling such a harsh tone at her.

“Something came up,” Y/n turned her gaze to her interlocked fingers in her lap, “She’s not gonna make it.”

Abby recognized a familiar sadness in her voice, one that she had hoped to never hear again, so she dropped the topic and instead found herself falling into a conversation similar to one they would have had before Reagan came into the picture. Things felt right again, especially as Y/n’s hand grasped onto her thick bicep everytime she laughed, and she didn’t push her hand away when she reached over and rested it on her knee–that had to mean something, right?

After Abby finished her fifth drink, things began to get too fuzzy for her to handle, her head dropping back onto the back of the couch with a grunt, her eyes squinting shut in a weak attempt to refocus herself. Y/n glanced up at her, concern painting her features as she reached a hand up to stroke Abby’s flushed cheek. 

“You feeling okay?”

Abby grunted in response, leaning her cheek even further into her hand.

Y/n chuckled at her, pulling herself away to stand up and taking hold of Abby’s hand. The blonde’s eyes popped open at the contact, staring up at the girl with hooded eyes as she attempted to pull her to her feet. Abby pushed herself up, forcing her entire body weight into Y/n’s figure faster than she could have anticipated, almost knocking them both to the floor.

“Woah, steady girl,” Y/n laughed, slinging one of her arms over her shoulder, “I think it’s time to get you to bed, don’t you think?”

Abby nodded sleepily, allowing her to pull her along down the hallway, thankfully not having to climb any stairs to Abby’s room with the girl who was 95% muscle on her back. She was able to get her into the room and seated on her mattress with very little trouble–Abby was very compliant with every order that came out of her mouth. 

She sat back, allowing her to wipe a wet cloth over her face gently, her eyes struggling to stay open even though she was eager to see her face up close and personal once more. 

“Can I ask you something?” She murmured quietly, using every ounce of her strength to keep herself from moaning under Y/n’s touch. 

“Of course.”

She paused for a moment, almost like she was thinking it over, though she had no control over the words that spilled out of her mouth, “Do you think I’m pretty?”

Y/n stopped her movements, causing Abby’s eyes to shoot open and fall on the grinning face before her. She laughed softly, then louder until her laughter filled the room and bounced off of the walls. 

“Sorry, sorry,” she lifted a hand to cover her mouth to contain her giggles, “That’s just not what I was expecting. But,” Y/n reached around and tugged the elastic out of Abby’s blonde hair, carefully untwisting the braid until her long hair settled around her shoulders, “I think you are very pretty.”

She smiled, mumbling out a quiet thank you.

“I have another question.”

“I think it’s only fair that I get to ask you one first.”

Abby raised her eyebrows, but was quick to nod in agreement. 

Y/n leaned back against the footboard of Abby’s bed, setting the cloth aside, “Why’ve you been ignoring me lately?”

“I’m not–” the blonde argued, pausing to compose herself, “I’m not ignoring you. I’m talking to you right now, aren’t I?”

“Abby.”

The blonde girl winced at her stern tone, wary of meeting her gaze, “Look, it’s not like I don’t wanna be around you, it’s just…” 

Don’t say it, her very sober subconscious was pleading with her, please.

Her drunk mouth didn’t listen, “Reagan.”

“Reagan?” Y/n frowned, “What about her?”

A small smile appeared on Abby’s lips, “Nuh-uh, it’s my turn.”

Y/n scoffed, rolling her eyes in annoyance, but urging her to ask nonetheless.

“Do you love her?”

“Do I–Abby, why are you asking me this?”

Her bashful eyes fell to her lap, “I think you know why.”

“No, Abby I don’t–”

Her words were silenced, a hum of shock vibrating through her throat as Abby lurched forward, lips pressing sloppily against her own. Y/n froze, neither pulling away nor reciprocating, just remaining in place until Abby pulled away for air. 

Abby smiled, resting her forehead against Y/n’s softly. She was drunk, yes, but she had never felt more sober and in-tune with her own feelings as she was then, just after kissing the girl she was so hopelessly in love with for the very first time. 

The spell she was under broke the moment her eyelids fluttered open, allowing her to spot the hooded stare and tear-stained cheeks of the girl in front of her.

“Y/n? What’s–”

“You’re drunk, Abby,” she scowled, pushing herself away, “You should go to bed.”

“What? I just–No, please don’t go.”

Y/n turned to face her sharply, “Why? So you can use me for your own pleasure and then kick me to the curb?”

“What?”

“I mean–Jesus, Abby. You were there after Samyah. You were the one who told me she was such a bitch, that I deserved better, but you’re doing the same goddamn thing. Worst of all, you know how I feel about you, but you made it very clear to me that you didn’t feel the same, so I backed off.”

“I love you,” She stammered out, “I-I’m in love with you.”

Y/n laughed bitterly, shaking her head.

“Please,” Abby, fell to the floor as she tried to push her body off of the bed, “I’m telling you the truth. I-I didn’t know before, but I do now.”

Y/n sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose to collect herself, turning to face her once more before fleeing the room, “Go to bed, Abby. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Except they didn’t talk the next day. Or the one after that. Abby basically avoided Y/n like the plague after doing what she did. How could she? Everything that Y/n had said to her was true, she’d known it for weeks. Hell, it was the exact reason why she hadn’t made a move on her sooner. 

She knew she couldn’t escape her forever, though. The WLF stadium was pretty big, but they would both be living there for the rest of their (hopefully long) lives and would be bound to run into each other at some point in that time. She was also already in a fairly deep state of depression because of what had happened between the two of them, but also because of how much she just missed having her around. 

Which is why she found herself outside Y/n’s bedroom door after returning from a particularly risky patrol that had ended in only four of them returning from a group of seven. Abby was shaky as she made her way back inside the compound, her muscles screaming with every step and her body begging her for a shower and a long sleep, but her feet mindlessly carried her in the opposite direction of her own room. Her fist rapped against the thin wood before she could even process it, but she couldn’t run away now, not when she’d been pinned under a scar only an hour ago with a knife to her throat. 

Y/n looked a bit dishevelled as she opened the door, and Abby immediately thought the worst; had she really just shown up at her door at night? What if Reagan was in there? What had Y/n been doing in there when she knocked? Had Abby really interrupted her having sex with someone else?

But the lazy yawn that escaped her puffy lips forced Abby to realise that, no, she hadn’t interrupted her with someone else, she’d woken her up, which somehow made her feel worse.

“Abby?”

“Sorry, uh, is this a bad time?” She shifted her weight back and forth nervously. 

“No, I was just–no, it’s not,” Y/n crossed her arms over her chest, “You’ve been avoiding me. Again.”

“I know,” Abby frowned, “I’m sorry. For everything. You have every right to be mad at me–fuck, you have every right to never wanna talk to me again, but I just have to let you know how sorry I am and how much you mean to me.”

Y/n shifted her gaze to the floor for a moment before nodding, glancing back up at Abby and stepping back to open the door wider, “Wanna come in?”

Abby nodded eagerly, stepping inside with caution. She glanced around, taking in the small changes that had been made since she’d last been here. Y/n bedroom was, well, hardly even a bedroom. It was about the size of a large broom closet, just enough room to jam two twin beds and two small dressers inside, though she and her roommate had taken the initiative to make it somewhat cosy inside. Thankfully, the second bed was empty that night, meaning that she didn’t have to hold back.

“Wanna sit?” Y/n motioned to the foot of her bed as she took a seat near the headboard. 

“Uh,” Abby glanced down at her dirty attire, “I shouldn't. Sorry, I didn’t even change before I came here–fuck, I’m so sorry.” 

Y/n shook her head, “Hey, it’s okay, Abs. We can sit on the floor?”

The blonde’s shoulders loosened at the use of that nickname, almost like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders as she lowered herself to sit directly across from Y/n on the carpeted floor. 

It was quiet for a beat, both of the girls sitting in silence as they watched, both anxiously waiting to see who would speak first. 

“Did you mean it?” Y/n was the first to crack.

“Did I mean…”

“You know what I’m talking about. You were drunk, but you avoided me like a clicker, Abby, so please don’t play dumb and just talk to me.”

Abby cleared her throat, “Yes. I meant it.”

Y/n let out a heavy breath, and Abby couldn’t tell if she was relieved or even more upset with her answer, “Okay, so you meant it. But why couldn’t you just tell me that? You knew how I felt about you when we first met, but you told me you weren’t interested so that was that.”

Abby shook her head, “It wasn’t like that. When we first met, I was…still dealing with how things ended with Owen. I was angry and hurt, and I really thought I would never get over it. But then, after a little while, I started to realise that I wasn’t heartbroken over him, I was angry that he and Mel didn’t have the decency to talk to me before they started fucking behind my back.”

“Okay,” Y/n nodded, “But after that? Is it some kind of internalised homophobic shit going on? If it is, you could’ve talked to me about it, I could’ve helped you.”

“It’s not that. It wasn’t that I was scared or ashamed of myself, it was that I didn’t even really think about it, I guess. Then, when I finally did, you were with Samyah, and then that ended and you were so upset, and that got me thinking that…I don’t know, what if I was the same as her? What if I was just wanting to experiment? I didn’t wanna talk to you about it because I didn’t wanna lose you, and I didn’t want you to think that I was the same as her,” Abby could feel her eyes stinging from the sudden onset of tears, “And then by the time I realised that that wasn’t the case, you were already with Reagan.”

Y/n opened her mouth to speak, but Abby cut her off.

“I know, you’re with her, and if that’s what you want, then that’s fine. I want you to be happy. But I can’t leave here knowing that I didn’t tell you that I am in love with you, so much that I don’t even know what to do with myself.”

Y/n didn’t answer, not verbally. Instead, she threw herself across the room, clambering into Abby’s lap and messily pressing her lips against hers. Abby was quick to reciprocate, her lips moving against hers steadily and conforming the once sloppy movements into a more slow and rhythmic embrace. Her arms moved to wrap around her waist, palms sliding up and down her back greedily as Y/n gently took Abby’s flushed cheeks into her own hands. 

When they finally pulled away, they both broke into wide grins, leaning in to peck each other once more. 

“Reagan and I aren’t together. I guess I was just on the rebound and she was looking for a fling, but it’s over.” Y/n whispered, “ I love you too, so much that I do know what to do with myself.”

Abby laughed, eyes trailing down her body and finally settling on the dirt and mud and blood that had transferred from her own dirty clothes to Y/n’s. 

“Shit, sorry, got you kinda dirty.”

Y/n glanced down at herself, then shrugged with a sly glint in her eye, “It’s okay. It just means that we’re both gonna have to go shower before bed, right?”

Abby stared at her in awe for a moment, brain finally catching up to her words as she jumped to her feet, hauling Y/n up into her arms as she began a quick march in the direction of the women’s showers, the otherwise quiet hallway being disturbed by Y/n’s squeal of surprise and laughter as the tall blonde carried her. 

Though the laughter was certainly more bearable to the surrounding rooms than the sounds that echoed from the showers over the next hour, though Abby couldn’t find a single ounce of concern for the others in the moment, just glad that she was finally able to hold and touch and kiss Y/n, just like real people do.

[abbyslapdog]

so pretty.

18+ only, please!

abby x f!reader

a/n: hi everyone!! i’m sorry that this is an abby fic cuz i’ve been getting ellie reqs!! so i’m sorry if i disappoint but i rlly needed to scratch this itch

brief summary: your dad’s co-worker is sooo cute! you hadn’t seen her in so long! tonight, a dinner is happening with his team! you just have to hurry up and get dressed, because she just caught you nakeyyyy.

tw / worship, age gap (it’s not pronounced), pet names, praise, pure smut(?), cunnilingus, cheating, slight mommy kink, rushed sex, reader gets referred to as “daddy’s little girl,” use of y/n, AU

⋆⭒˚☾⋆.˚

you let out a quick sigh as you tugged your dress up, slipping your shoulders into the straps and taking a glance at your clock.

fuck, you thought to yourself, dad’s gonna be pissed. you were late downstairs for a very important dinner your dad was hosting! this was your first ever dinner you’ve been invited - no, well, forced to go to. all the other times, your whole time growing up, they’ve been at restaurants which your dad told you you couldn’t go to. well, now they’re here. and now you have to make a good impression and have spectacular manners for these people. uh oh.

you looked at your outfit, a tight-fitted, wine red dress. it was appropriate enough, but it was definitely showing your body off. you didn’t have time to change, though, so, a quick spray of your dior perfume would be your final touch. spritz, spritz, and you’re hurriedly rushing down the steps. you don’t have to peek around the corner to know who’s there: your dad, isaac, manny, owen, mel and… was that abby? you gulped. you hadn’t seen abby in so long, yet she’d been on your mind all that time. suddenly you were self conscious, adjusting your dress and adjusting your hair if you could. you peeked around the corner, and almost squeaked at the sight. she was there. she wore a skin-tight, long-sleeve dress.

why are you covering up those pretty arms? was the first thing you thought. those arms had kept you up at night as you fantasized about them holding you, worshiping you, and vice versa for you. your cheeks were heated, flushed with blood as you became entranced by her body. your eyes trailed down to take in the rest of her, her muscular back, legs, stomach. oh, god. you might have to go back to your room.

“y/n!” your dad called, making your head perk up and the rest of his team turn to look at you. they greeted you with friendly faces, having not scene “daddy’s little girl,” as your dad would say, in a hot minute. you stood up straight, giving a stiff wave as you rushed to go sit down by your dad’s side.

everyone was staring at you. you couldn’t tell if it was the dress, or that they hadn’t seen you. you tried your damndest to never even glance at abby and you did pretty well, barely even uttering a word to her whilst you talked pretty chattily to the rest. yes, that probably hurt her feelings, but your sanity was slightly more important.

you continued to eat, your mind now focused.

“so, y/n,” abby called whilst the others chatted, “how’s school going?” you glanced up, giving an awkward smile as you swallowed your food.

“it’s, uh, going,” you replied with heated cheeks. “it’s going.” she smirked a knowing smile and brought her hand to yours. your gaze didn’t falter as it continued it’s strenuous stare at her face. you tried to hide a growing grin,

“you can always ask me for help,” she offered, “i’m pretty good at math, y’know.” you felt your lips twitching to a small smile and you nodded.

“yeah,” you said with a nod, pulling your hand away slowly. “thanks, mrs. anderson.” she gave you a small smile, her eyes so briefly flickering downward to your chest that you hadn’t noticed.

the night went on, slowly coming to an end while you dismissed yourself upstairs. it was late and you had things to do tomorrow. a quick shower was what you needed while you hurried to the bathroom. everyone had left except for a few stragglers, who you had assumed were going to leave pretty soon.

you quietly entered the bathroom and shut the door behind you. you stepped toward the mirror, giving a lopsided smile at your slightly disheveled state. you slipped out of your dress then stepped out the pool of your cloth. you stepped toward the bath, running it whilst you plugged the drain. you sat on the tub, taking off your shoes and socks to flex your feet.

you jumped, hearing a crack of lightning outside the window.

jesus, you thought. you didn’t realize the fan would be so bad. you groaned silently, turning the water off and pulling the plug on the drain. you were slipping back into your dress, the straps just above your waist before the door swings open. you yelped, covering your chest quickly.

“i didn’t know,” the smooth voice stated. your jaw was slack, staring abby in. “sorry.” but she didn’t turn away. her eyes flickered down to your chest, taking in what she could see. “…sorry,” she said once more before beginning to turn away. you didn’t know she was still here, you thought she’d left.

“well, wait,” you called before you could realize what you were doing. her gaze fell back on you, her brows raised. “i… um…” you felt your arms begin to relax, and your eyes widened as they fell to your sides, uncensoring your body for her.

“y/n,” she breathed. “your dad’s downstairs. so’s owen.” you both gazed at each other as a silence emerged. your eyes flicked down her body, especially the muscles that covered her arms.

“…i don’t care,” you spoke softly. you watched her slowly shut the door behind her as she entered. doe-eyed, you watched her approach you. she took a hold of the dress that hung around your waist, pulling it so you were close.

“daddy’s little girl ain’t so little anymore, huh?” your eyelids fluttered, gasping as her lips touched your neck. you hummed a “no” in response and your hand gripped her braid, tugging it as she bite into your neck. she let out a groan at your hair-tugs, which only fueled you. “mm, the boys would be so upset, huh? but, look how pretty you are. how’s a woman like me gonna resist a pretty girl like you?” she paused to pull away from you, “…can i touch you?” you nodded your head and her huge hands went to massage your breasts, eliciting a moan from your lips. “shhh. don’t get loud, baby, don’t get loud. just let mama touch your body.” they moved from your breasts and down to your sides and she spoke once more, “can i pull your dress down, baby girl?” you nodded, and the dress with down, down, down. her hands cupped your ass as you stood and she kneeled. “look at that,” she sighed and kissed your naval. “spread your legs for me, sweet thing, let me take a look at you.” you adjusted, spreading your legs just a tad to let her get a view of your inner lips, wet and needy.

“abby,” you huffed, slightly impatient. she smirked and squeezed your butt hard. you whined, writhing slightly.

“hush up,” she demanded lowly, kissing down your stomach. she sighed as she inhaled your scent, nostrils flaring. “mm, fuck you smell good.” your cheeks heated with embarrassment and your hand went for her hair again, pulling her closer to your throbbing pussy. “so impatient, sweetheart. you’re lucky the boys are downstairs… if they weren’t, i’d be bending you over my knee. god, look at this body…” her hands trailed back up your sides, squeezing your breasts once more. you could feel yourself drip as she began to kiss your thighs. “oh, baby,” she groaned into your thigh, bringing her hands back down. she licked right to your vulva, leaving a trail of saliva on your thighs. “should i tongue this needy pussy?”

“yes,” you gasped, nudging your hips forward. “abby, please.” you’d been waiting for this for so long, you needed her rough tongue on you. she leaned in to give your cunt a sloppy kiss, gently sucking on your clit. you hunched over, pulling her head closer to you. her hands grabbed your ass as she began to lick at you. “abby.” she smiled into your pussy while her tongue flicked against your clit, then dipped into you. “fuck…” she guided your hips along her tongue, each time her tongue found your sensitive little bud, curving right at the end to give you so much pleasure.

“it’s alright, baby, ride mama’s tongue,” she said quickly, opening her mouth wide for you. you obliged, hurriedly running yourself along her tongue.

“abby, abby,” you whined, gripping her hair to pump her head. she kept staring at you, her blue eyes boring into yours. “a-abby.” her hands soothingly ran up and down your thighs and her mouth closed slightly, suckling back onto your clit. “please!” you whimpered, the grip on her hair tightening. she groaned, the vibrations hitting your pussy so perfectly.

“shh.” she kissed your clit a few times before her fingers slipped into you. your jaw fell open and your head tilted back. you moaned her name quietly, heavy breaths filling the air. you could feel yourself, how close you were.

“please let me cum on your tongue,” you pleaded, your eyes locked on hers. she chuckled into your cunt, nodding whilst slurping up your juices. your legs trembled as you approached the edge of your orgasm. whimpers left your throat before you bit your lip, coming undone right on her tongue. she eagerly licked your nectar up, your hips rocking and grinding.

eventually coming down, you slowly pushed her head away. her face was drenched with your essence, a smug smile plastered on her face.

“that good, sweetheart?” she asked with a small kiss on your thigh. you nodded slowly, your breath heavy.

“yes,” you managed to say between labored breaths.

“let’s hope the boys didn’t hear, huh?” she stood up and guided your dress back on before speaking once more, “we’ll be doing this again.”

you bit back a smirk.