#ABIGAIL PLEASE GET UP I’M BEGGING YOU

[evercornelias]

abigail when asked why she took john back after he left her alone with their infant son for an entire year:

[bunniehrtz]

can i request cunt slapping w abby 🤲 need her to get so nasty w it

luuvvvvv

you should’ve expected it, really. acting the way you did, speaking to abby the way you did, you should’ve known you were in for it the second you stepped into your bedroom. the second you stepped into your house, in fact. your knees pressed up against your chest, holding onto them so tight your nails dig into the flesh of your calves, almost bleeding.

“oh- fuck! abs, it hurts!” you whine, hissing and wincing at the sting on your aching pussy, your eyes shut tightly. abby’s hand slaps down once again, the ninth time in about the last thirty seconds.

“i don’t give a fuck. shouldn’t even be touching you, you like this too much,” abby comments at the slick trailing down your thighs, pooling under your ass onto your sheets. it’s true, the feeling of her huge, thick hands slapping down onto your sensitive cunt was enough to make you cum. you think you could, you might.

“abby- please,” you attempt to say, it comes out in a pathetic whisper, ending in a squeal and a sharp inhale.

“shut up. stop complaining or i’ll fuckin’ leave you here. tie you up, leave you here for hours. do you want that?”abby says through a clenched jaw. you shake your head, the thought of abby leaving you here leaving a pit in your stomach.

the contrast of your naked body against her fully clothed one drove your head fuzzy. her baby hairs escaping the woven mess of her braid, the freckles cascading down her biceps, the way they paint her face, it drives you crazy. you fall deeper into submission as your body begins to feel light, your head feels empty as all you can think about is abby. her hands, the sting between your legs as she continues her attack on your cunt.

the band in your stomach begins to feel tighter, your pussy clenching around nothing.

“are you really about to cum? just from a few slaps? god, i knew you were a slut but this, this is fucking low, baby,” she teases, drawing circles over your clit, smiling as your back arches and you sigh empty whispers of her name.

“you wanna cum, baby? yeah? you gonna cum?” abby encourages, her fingers sliding through your folds, laughing at your moans. you nod and nod, begging.

“please! please let me cum, please,” you sob, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth.

“aww, i’m sorry, baby. should’ve thought about that before you acted up in front of everyone,” abby pulls away, pouting down at you before patting your cunt twice, then walking away to the bathroom to fetch a towel to clean you up.

taglist @queenofmistresses @bambishaven @abigails-gf @drunkelliewilliams @aouiaa @dykeanderson @abbysprettygiiirl @toasthatervee @marsworlddd

[absfawn]

having major nerdy loser!abby brain rot so. 18+

Nerdy Abby who’s been trying to focus on reading her book for the past 15 minutes, her glasses are falling down the bridge of her nose, the book is in a tight grip between her hands, and her breathing is becoming more and more ragged. She simply cannot focus on any of the words in front of her because of you. The pretty little thing sitting on her lap, riding her strap like your life depends on it. You had told her when you got back from class, stressed out your mind that she needs to read every line of her book or you will stop.

“read every single line, out loud. if you don’t, i’ll stop”

She could never say no to you. her pretty girl. But thinking back on it, this was becoming a little difficult for her. Her eyes kept flickering between the lines on the page, the words you had told her to read, but they were more focused on the way your tits would bounce, her need and hunger to throw the book down just to cup them in her hands, to wrap her lips around your hardened nipples and litter kisses up and down your neck.

It wasn’t until you felt her hand slip from the book, to rest on your thigh that you whimpered out a small “read your book, or i’m going to leave you here, all needy to get yourself off”

It was easier said than done, she would listen and do whatever you asked of her but asking her to read a stupid book she could read any other day while you’re fucking yourself on her strap, letting out the most pornographic sounds, and softly begging for her? That was something she would never be able to do. Not when she just wants to buck her hips up, tear moan after moan from you, and have you like putty in her hands. It was cruel, so cruel to have asked her to focus on something for one of her classes and simply ignore you until she had finished the last chapter.

She was stumbling over the words she was supposed to be reading to you. Hands clamming up the longer you let out such pretty sounds, the pressure of the strap hitting her clit perfectly and the small gasps she had let out had you smirking, your hands gripping onto her shoulders, and occasionally slipping down to grip her tits, begging and pleading her knowing damn well she was already having trouble focusing on her book when all she can focus on is the moans you’re letting out and the sound of your cunt. “baby, please.. just let me touch you..” her voice low and weak.

The glasses on her face had almost slipped off when she slipped up, her hand coming to rest on your hip quickly, squeezing tightly at the certain movement of you grinding down onto her strap harder, and a broken whimper slipped through her plump lips when your hand made its way to her throat, where you squeezed just enough for her to know you weren’t kidding. Her pupils were blown wide, her face flushed and cunt clenching around nothing when you leaned forward, placing a small kiss under her ear.

“I told you to read your book, and you didn’t listen to my only rule. no touching. Bad girls get punished, Abigail”

[elliespassagerprincess]

can u pretty please with a cherry on top make a part 4 to the milf abby 😔🙏🏼💟

Headcannons: Milf!abby anderson x reader (part 4)

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

Authors note: Ladies and pookies I'm back! This last week has been the worst and most painful week of my life but, I'm back and better than ever <3

☆ Milf Abby who gets your initials tattooed on her ring finger.

You felt her calloused hands grab your waist as you stood admiring the ring she got you.

“it’s pretty” you muttered

“you’re pretty” she said with a smile

“shut up Abby” you shoved her to the side as you felt your face grow hot.

The two of you stood in silence for a while, enjoying the peace and quiet you both rarely get with Aubrey

“you know” Abby started “if the bride gets to wear an engagement ring, what about their partner?”

Your brows furrow, at the thought.

“that actually makes a lot of sense Abby. We should get you a ring-“

but before you could even finish you sentence Abby lifted up her right hand revealing the tattoo.

“what the fuck Abigail”

☆ Milf Abby who refers to you as her wife long before the wedding.

“Yeah my wife and I went there”

“she’s my wife”

“my wife likes that show” “you know what they say happy wife happy life”

☆ Milf Abby who buys you white dresses as gifts just to see what you would look like in white, because she really couldn’t wait for the wedding.

☆ Milf Abby who’s literally a perfectionist and plans the wedding without a planner.

“No, you aren’t folding the napkins right” “that isn’t the right shade of pink”

☆ Milf Abby who asks her daughter to be the ring bearer and the maid of honor.

Aubrey looked at you with curious eyes as Abby placed the box onto her lap.

“dude what’s this?”

“Aubrey I’m not your friend, who taught you that word?” Abby sighed

“grandpa did” “of course he did. He really needs to stop-“

 “Abby lets focus on the box” you interrupted her, knowing this conversation wasn’t going anywhere.

“Can I open it please?” Aubrey asked you, with a polite smile.

“of course she’s nice to you! You little gremlin-“

“Abby!”

Abby felt Aubrey pinch her arm at the gremlin comment

“why would you-“

“ok” you said with a stern voice “lets open the box, you guys can fight later”

sometimes it felt like you were living with children.

Aubrey’s small hands grabbed the box, eagerly tearing away the wrapping paper. In the box lay a simple white dress, with paper rings. The little girl gently grabbed the fabric, inspecting it. She saw the rings and it took her a while to get it.

“I’m carrying the rings?!” she yelled

“and we were hoping you’d be our maid of honor too” you pulled out a basket from behind you and the girls smile grew.

☆ Milf Abby who begs you to let her go with you when you go wedding dress shopping.

“please”

“Abby its bad luck”

“fuck the bad luck”

☆ Milf Abby who sends you thumbs down emoji’s the whole time you were gone.

☆ Milf Abby who doesn’t want to sleep in separate houses the night before the wedding.

☆ Milf Abby who sends you cringe Facebook minion memes and jokes because she misses you. This was your first night apart in months, but she knew after tonight she would be waking up with you next to her for the rest of her life.

☆ Milf Abby who barley slept that night. She wasn’t sure if she was nervous or excited.

☆ Milf Abby who gets ready extremely early. Her hair was out of her normal tight braid, and the hair fell to her shoulders. Her black suit hugging her in all the right places.

☆ Milf Abby who starts at herself in the mirror too long, and she suddenly notices her wrinkles, she suddenly notices the grey hairs.

☆ Milf Abby who gets cold feet.

☆ Milf Abby who starts crying because you didn’t deserve this.

You needed someone younger, some who doesn’t have back pains and complains about their joints hurting. Someone who wasn’t turning 50 soon.

Someone who won’t die soon.

You needed more than Abby.

Abby’s loud sobs filled the room as she looked at herself in the mirror.

She should call this off.

“Abby?” her head snapped to the direction of the door. It was her dad. She quickly wiped her eyes, and she sniffed a couple of times. “hey dad” he slowly walked towards her, and he gently sat next to her, putting his hand on her shoulder he muttered “you okay?”

The blonde sitting next to him broke out in sobs, her head fell to his shoulder “oh honey” he breathed as he held her close.

“Abby what’s wrong?” He felt his daughter tremble next to him. “i- I’m keeping her back in life” Abby started, and Jerry just sat and listened to her.

“I’m so old I’m probably going to die soon. Who wants to be married to a grandma? One of these days I won’t be able to get out of bed without complaining. And she’s so pretty and young- she-she deserves everything, and what can I give her? My future dentures?”

“have you ever thought that this is what she wanted?”

Abby lifted her head to what her father said.

“The fact she’s marrying you proves that the love she has for you is endless. She’s willing to look after you when you do get those dentures. She wants you as much as you want her Abby, don’t let your insecurities stop you from being with the love of your life. And yeah, you’ll get old, but she’ll be with you”

☆ Milf Abby who goes to the venue earlier than everyone to make sure everything is ok.

☆ Milf Abby who stood at the altar with sweaty palms, waiting for your arrival.

☆ Milf Abby who started crying as soon as you start walking down the aisle.

 ☆ Milf Abby who couldn’t take her eyes off you the whole ceremony because she realized that this was it. She was marrying you.

☆ Milf Abby who shed more tears than you did during your vows and she cried even more when Aubrey came with the rings.

☆ Milf Abby who practically jumps on you when they said she could kiss you.

You felt her hands grab your face, and she brought you in for a rough kiss.

The crowned screamed around the two of you and you heard the clicks of all the cameras. You felt Abby’s lips smile against yours before she pulled away putting her head against yours.

She whispered “I’ll love you forever”

“I love you too abs, forever and always”

[s-4pphics]

let the rain sing. 3 (a.a)

OHHHHH WHO UP FR😨😨

wc;cw: 3.7k, dadsbestfriend!abby, lawstudent!oc, large age gap (oc is 25, abby is mid 40s), abby is bi<3, weed, alcohol, dubcon, footsie lol, angst :(

You haven’t seen or spoken to Abby in a month, and you were dying. 

It wasn’t even due to your insomnia, which came as a shock to you in the beginning. Your exhaustion was overcrowded by shame since your last encounter with her. A self-loathing deep in your gut that nearly puts you in the ground when you recollect on your aloofness. 

You forced yourself to neglect everything but coursework to wither your desire to call her and beg for forgiveness. It was December, and you were scavenging to get most of your revisions for your thesis complete before February. You were almost forty pages deep, but you couldn’t even relish your successes due to your overworked brain conjuring up visions of a dripping wet, crying Abby. 

Your short minutes of sleep were dominated by images of her: laughing, smiling, crying in pleasure under you, but none of the enjoyment lasted. Even in the heavy moments you two shared in your subconscious, you were always jolted awake by her screaming about how much she hated you, how you used her because you're selfish and controlling and mean. 

She never said those things to you outwardly, but you knew she felt it whenever she saw you during the late hours of the night, even more so now after your last fight. You felt like a terrible person; you are a terrible person. And you looked the part. 

The dark, heavy bags under your eyes returned, skin dry and wrinkly from frowning, crying, and stressing from school. You were glued to your laptop, clinging it to your side everywhere you went like your life depended on it. Like you would completely lose all connection to reality if it parted from you. You couldn’t separate from it.

Even when your parents would come knocking on your door asking why you didn’t eat dinner with them, your eyes bored into the bright screen, the sound of your mom’s cheery voice almost sounding like blaring alarms in your head.

Your dad made your favorite, baby! Come eat!

Your father. 

You could barely bring yourself to look him in the eye anymore. You make sure to avoid eye contact when he speaks to you, turning your head down when he holds you close. You missed his laugh lines and gentle smile, but you just… couldn’t. Every time you slipped up and met his delicate eyes, you saw Abby’s. 

So full of affection and softness: their eyes felt like a warm embrace, constant and comforting. Your father always got more affectionate during the holiday season. 

Your heart hurts whenever you think about Abby during this time of year. 

Was she lonely during the holidays? Is she close with her family? You were embarrassed how little you knew about her personal life. Her attempts to bond were always stopped by hot kisses, wandering hands, your desperate pleas for shut eye. How could you be so heartless to someone as kind as her? She invited you into her home, expressed her trauma, provided you with an outlet to release your tensions, and you stole from her with greed. 

You brought your hands up to your burning eyes to rub them before grabbing your phone. You unlocked it and scrolled down to you and Abby’s abandoned messages. Remorse slammed into your gut, the slew of abby i need you please and her replies of Okay. Come over anytime :) made nausea stir in your gut. 

You should leave her be. Leave her alone. Leave her alone, leave her alone, leave her alone—

But your selfishness was too strong, and your efforts to avoid her couldn’t hold any longer. Your fingers moved before your brain could stop them, the sounds of your unclipped nails tapping against your screen. Your eyes hurt so badly. 

You sent your message before you neglected it completely. 

i’m so sorry Abigail. 

Regret sat heavy in your chest like an anchor. 

You hoped she would forgive you someday. 

Mariah Carey interrupted your hour of slumber. Fuck her and your life. 

You angrily threw your blanket off your body and dug your palms into your eyes. Sometimes, the purity of your dad aggravates your soul. 

He always loved Christmas Eve more than Christmas day. You still remember when he went behind your mom’s back and snuck your Bratz Doll set into your devious, stubby hands after Eve dinner when you were seven. 

Mama’s gonna be so mad at you! 

Meh. She’ll never know if you don’t snitch!

Your irritated inhales were swarmed with the smell of savory meats and sweet pies. You were going to eat well later, at least. 

You reached over to your nightstand and grabbed your phone off the charger. Abby never replied to you, but she did open it. Your heartbeat sped up; She must’ve really despised you, and you couldn’t blame her. 

You hoped she has a great Christm—

“ALL I WANT FOR CHRIIISTMAAAS IS YOUU— “

Your father’s joyous shouts interrupted your wishful thoughts of seeing his close friend again. 

The irony of it all. 

You tiredly hobbled downstairs after brushing your teeth. 

You admired your parents' decorative abilities: the stair railings were wrapped in green and red ribbons; they hung up stockings and fairy lights over the small fireplace and covered the small tree in the corner of the living room in their DIY ornaments. 

You followed the sounds of pots and pans clanging together in the kitchen as your parents sang along to the lyrics booming from the speakers. Their backs were turned to you, but you could see them taste-testing soups and the corners of desserts as they shared small kisses. Your heart fluttered at the sight; they’re so in love.

You made yourself known, calling out over the tunes, “Y’all are up early.” 

Both their heads whipped around to face you, instantly brightening at your disheveled sight. 

“Girl, it’s noon,” your mom called out as she returned to her stirring of the large pot. Your dad trotted over to engulf you in his arms and planted kisses to your head. You made sure to keep your eyes on the wall in front of you. 

“Merry Christmas, babygirl,” he said into your ear. You were overcome with warmth, then swiftly blinded by guilt. Tears jerked in your eyes, but you blinked them away with urgency. 

You cleared your throat and huffed a laugh, “It’s not Christmas yet, bonehead.” 

You felt a playful pinch at the back of your neck as he laughed, “Keep talkin’ trash and you’re not eating.” 

You shook your head and pulled away from him, catching a small glimpse of his mischievous grin. You would’ve broken at the sight, but you swiftly brushed past him and into the kitchen to make you a quick bowl of microwaveable oatmeal. You heard your dad bolt up the stairs with a shout of BRB!

“And what are you doing.”

You turned to look at your mom, who was watching you grab a bowl from the cabinet with her hands on her hips, soupy spoon in hand. 

Your brows creased, “What, mom?” 

She looked at you like you had two heads. “You’re gonna ruin your appetite, baby. We’re all eating soon.”

You blinked blankly, “… So I can’t have oatmeal?” 

“No, you can’t have oatmeal. Did your dad not tell you the plans?”

“Uhh… no?”

“That man, I tell you," She shook her head in exasperation, “We’re having a little Christmas party. Everyone’s bringing stuff and we need to eat everything!” 

Your heart stopped in your chest at the mention of a party. You almost dropped the ceramic bowl on the floor when your arms lost strength. You tried to hide the anxiety on your face, but your mom’s gaze felt like it was piercing through you. 

No. No, please—

You set the bowl on the counter harder than you should have, “W-Who’s… Who’s coming?” 

She furrowed her brows at you and spoke in an obvious tone, “… All our family? Me’n dad’s work friends, some neighbors. The usual.” 

You nodded and turned towards the cupboards with a pounding heart. You felt lightheaded and your mouth went dry, your throat closing at the thought of seeing Abby. You knew she was coming; You've never seen her say no to your dad. She never even denied you and you were practically strangers. 

You were certain you were going to pass out—

“What’s the matter, baby?” 

You flinched at your mom’s gentle hand on your shoulder. You looked at her, and she looked just as confused, just as concerned as you would expect. You noticed a glint of intensity in her gaze, and your breath caught in your throat. 

… Did she know? There’s no way she knew. She couldn’t know. She didn’t, she didn’t—

“I… I just feel faint. I don’t know what happened.” 

Her eyes widened in shock, “Maybe you did need that damn oatmeal. Come here, baby. Come sit.” 

You could barely get words out, but your mom guided you to the dining table and ushered you to sit before running to get some water

“One bowl of oatmeal wouldn’t hurt, I guess,” She said with a sigh, handing you an ice-cold bottle from the fridge. You never choked down water that quickly in your entire life. “Cinnamon apple or maple?”

You gulped and garbled apple before getting more water in. 

You weren’t thinking about fucking oatmeal. The thought of eating suddenly made you sick. 

You were seeing Abby much quicker than you expected, and there was nothing you could do about it.

Your quiet neighborhood was bustling. 

You were peeping out the window from the living room couch to distract yourself from your oncoming doom. Bundled-up families were making their way through the snow and onto lit-up porches, children were smiling and jumping in piles of white ice, and everyone had ugly sweaters under their coats. 

The sight was precious, but all you could think about was Abby, the image of her at your parents' front door making you want to flee. 

… Your parents were busy all day. Maybe they wouldn’t notice if you stole your keys from the kitchen counter and drove off until the guests drunkenly laughed home—

“Girl, why aren’t you dressed! Everyone will be here soon!”

Your eyes shut in nervousness at your mom’s tone. You released the hold you had on the blinds and got up off the couch. You caught a glimpse of the ugly Christmas sweater she wanted to match with you, holding yours up in both hands. You grabbed it and moved to walk up the stairs, flinching at the playful slap she gave your ass. You ignored her as she ridiculed you for being late, your heartbeat rattling your ribcage. 

… Here goes nothing. 

The sun was setting as you nervously sipped your second glass of wine, watching your family and friends prance all over your home with joy. 

After greeting all your guests, you took a seat on the couch next to the door, completely on guard as you poured more maroon liquid into your glass. You assumed sipping would calm your anxiety, but your tipsiness only added to your stress. You were thankful that your family respected your observance so you could isolate during these gatherings. 

Ugly Christmas sweaters were a theme for your block evidently. Everyone was decked in garb that had corny punchlines and ridiculously bright green and red sleeves. Your favorite cousin even had the nerve to show up in a Merry Litmas sweater riddled with marijuana leaves. Your mom, aunt, and uncle tag-teamed cursing him out at the front door. 

Your friends loved coming over when your pothead cousin was present; They never missed an opportunity to hotbox in his car. You want to join them so badly. 

Your youngest aunt had gotten tired of hearing songs about Santa, propping your youngest cousin on her hip and queuing the entirety of Tina Snow. Your mom smirked deviously as your father grabbed the shot glasses and Tequila from the cupboards. 

Your home was jumping an hour later. Everyone had migrated towards the kitchen, rotating between pouring up and sneaking tastes of your mom’s homemade sweet potato pies on the table. 

Your dad’s work friends trickled in one by one, but there was still no sign of Abby. A hole opened in your heart, and you accepted that she wasn’t coming. That your apology wouldn’t be enough to amend your relationship. 

You caught a glimpse of your remarkably high cousin waltz into the snowy backyard, and you moved on autopilot. You made your way through the dancing crowd, avoiding the scene of your dad grinding on your mom and grabbing your coat off the rack. You pushed the back door open and shivered at the cold, catching the sight of your cousin rolling up at the patio table. 

“Yo.”

He jumped and turned to face you, his eyes light pink and a lazy smile appearing on his face at the sight. 

“Don’t sneak up on me like that. What’s up.”

You shrugged and grabbed a seat in front of him, sighing heavily as you sat. “It’s crowded in there.”

He nodded along with you, sealing his blunt with a smirk on his face, “Your new friend’s fine as hell. With the red antlers— “

You cut him off with a sharp glare, “Don’t you fucking dare. Leave her alone.”

He furrowed his brows at your tone, “Damn, my bad. I didn’t even say shit.”

“You don’t have to. Whore.”

He let out a loud laugh, his Santa hat covered head flying back as he pulled his lighter out his pocket. You watched him spark the end of his blunt before puffing from it, exhaling the smoke in a spherical cloud that floated near your face. 

He wordlessly passed the blunt to you, and you accepted it, bringing it to your lips and pulling from it for a while. You felt the dull burn in your lungs as smoke filled your mouth before exhaling. 

“You got better at that. Shit.”  

You looked up at him and shrugged again, “I’ve been practicing, I guess.” 

You puffed from the lit blunt again before passing it back to your cousin, watching him mimic your previous actions as you breathed out the carbon.

He exhaled the smoke as he spoke, “How come? Is that why you look like trash?”

You glared at him, but he didn’t care, continuing, “Have you been sleepin’?”

You hesitated before quietly denying. 

His eyes widened at you. “Bro, what the fuck. Do your parents know?”

You shrugged sheepishly as you looked down at the frosted glass table, reaching for the blunt. 

He passed it to you as he shook his head, “You need to go to the fuckin’ doctor and get that checked. Have you been using aids?” 

You couldn’t help the huffed laugh that escaped you, Abby’s ribbed dick and blushing face popping into your mind. 

“Somethin’ like that.” 

You took one last good pull from the blunt before passing it back to him, your body relaxing into the cushioned chair. You watched your cousin shake his head as he pulled from the blunt. 

You two caught up as darkness consumed you, giggling at the nonsensical ramblings about his new job as a Uber driver and how much he hated living near a university. 

You couldn’t stop fucking laughing. You didn’t know how much time passed or what your cousin was talking about, but you felt light. Like the frigid wind surrounding the two of you would send you flying; You haven’t felt this joyous in months. The twinkling lights that surrounded the back door shined like stars; Everything looked so pretty. Maybe you should start smoking again—

The back door was pulled open, and it snapped you out of your colorful trance, your youngest aunt’s head poking out. 

She whispered harshly to the two of you, nodding towards your cousin's roach in his hand, “Can y’all put that shit out so we can eat?! Hurry the fuck up!”

She turned back inside with an aggravated eye roll, leaving the door open so that you could both follow her back into warmth. Your cousin stubbed his blunt out on the floor as you stood from your seat, making your way inside as you watched everyone line up for their plates in the kitchen. 

Your heart stopped and your gut swirled with nerves and want when you saw the familiar form standing by the speakers, talking to your dad. You should’ve never fucking smoked, why the fuck did you smoke—

Your head was rushing as you took in Abby: hair in two braids that were covered by a pink Santa hat, and a black and white ugly sweater covered with reindeers pooping. She was smiling as she listened to your father’s tipsy rambles, laughing as he waved his arms around in excitement. Her laugh swallowed you in slow motion, sounding like jingle bells and filling your heart with… something heavy and unfamiliar. You always thought her laugh was cute and she has the prettiest smile—

“You good?”

You jumped and gasped harshly as your cousin's voice came from behind you. You nodded in a rush, halting your gawking before scurrying over to the dining table and grabbing a paper plate. 

Try not to look fucking high! You’re not even high! Abby came, Abby came, Abby came. 

Your mind was racing as you filled your plate with baked mac and cheese, nearly dropping the large scooping spoon on the floor when your aunt asked why you were taking so long. 

You look high, you idiot! Don’t look high—

Your nose was filled with the familiar scent of roses, and you whipped your head around to see Abby retreating back to the dining table with a filled plate and wine glass in her hand. She smelled so fucking good—

“Bruh, you’re tweaking. Go sit the hell down.” 

You looked over and saw your cousin with a plate that was nearly identical to yours: a giant pile of fucking mac and cheese with some wings next to it. You want fucking chicken, too!

You walked past him and grabbed you some from the foil serving tin before making your way over to the table and Abby was fucking looking at you and there was an open seat in front of her, oh fuck—

You probably looked so fucking high when you plopped down in the vacant seat, tearing into your macaroni. 

You kept your head down, face deep in your plate.

Every time you looked up, Abby caught your gaze. 

The table was filled with drunken converse, your parents and uncles arguing over who would die in the Hunger Games first… you think. What the fuck did you smoke? 

… Abby is so gorgeous. Have you ever told her that? Probably not. 

You’ve been studying her face for what felt like hours as you chowed down your food, watching her sip her wine, watching her watch you. It made your heart race and your fingers twitch as they rested on the table. 

You were hyper aware of every move she made: every shuffle in her seat, every fiddle with her fork, every minuscule response to your dad from across the table before her eyes flickered towards you again. You couldn’t read her expressions, but there was something in her eye that terrified you. Maybe your assumptions about her hatred towards you were true. Your behavior ruined everything. You were never going to see her smile or laugh or sleep again—

The brush against your leg made you stiffen. 

Your eyes immediately flickered towards Abby: she was conversing with a work friend that you didn’t recognize, chuckling into her glass as she beamed with excitement as she listened to the tale. Another brush against you, nearly pressing into your limb. Your nipples hardened.

You shuddered with a heavy sigh, and you felt a foot slowly glide up your knee before traveling back down to your ankle, catching on your sock. Your tummy was in knots. 

Abby finally paid you some attention, reconnecting your eyes. The sparkle in her eyes sent a tight twist in your gut. It was playful and mischievous and full of want. You shuddered again when she wet her lips, her tongue peeping out of her mouth and brushing against the glass.

“You okay?”

You jumped at your aunt's voice from next to you, and you nodded stiffly. Abby's foot traveled up your leg again as she watched the interaction between you and her. 

“You sure, babe? You look sick— “

You shook your head and turned to look at your aunt’s concerned face, “M’okay. I’m just tired.” 

“You look it.” 

You could see Abby adjust in her seat, her feet going up your knee and inching up your thigh. Your legs closed around her fuzzy sock covered foot on instinct, your core clenching as your aunt palmed your forehead. 

“You feel hot, babe. Maybe you should lay down for a bit?”

You could see Abby smirking behind her glass. You hate her, you hate her, you hate her—

You exhaled sharply, “Okay— “

A sharp gasp cut you off when her foot shoved between your shut legs, the bottom of it pushing into your clothed, drippy cunt. Your clit jerked with need as you shot up out of your seat, almost tripping as your chair clattered to the floor. Everyone’s conversation stopped, eyeing you with concern as they asked what was wrong. Abby was still smirking, sipping in silence. 

“Sorry, m’good. I’m gonna… gonna lay down for a sec.” 

You turned away before you could hear your family’s arguments, your youngest aunt asking your cousin what the fuck he put in that blunt. You bolted up the stairs and shut your door, trying to ignore the wetness between your legs. 

You’re horny as fuck. You’re never getting high again. 

You heard the party pick up after some minutes before a ding came from your pocket as you paced around your room. 

You clumsily pulled it out and read the message from Abby, the coil in your gut reigniting as guilt filled your chest. 

You’re not forgiven. :)

damn this took forever my fault yall

next part gon b up quick omg abby backstory purr

omg first post in the middle of the night who up fr

taglistttt love yall smooches @ohlawdthebirds @fibrogirlie @unangelic-thoughts @chrry1ovr @uraesthete @gravygranules @digit4lslut @machetegirl109 @letsreadsomesins-shallwe @macaroni676 @sillygooselit @nil-eena @elliesgirlll @hi2647

prologue. part one. part two. interlude. part four.

[abbys-wifey]

5 days

pairing: abby anderson x female reader

warnings: my first fic in a little while so…

“It’s not funny Abigail.” My eyes harden, gazing at the woman who holds my heart… and who laughs through her nose as she sits before me, trapping me between her thighs at the edge of our bed. Furrowing my brows in protest does nothing, Abby’s face is still plastered with an amused grin. I glare harder at my girlfriend who scoffs, fingers running up my legs and landing on the backs of my thighs, squeezing gently.

“You’re being dramatic.” She singsongs wiggling her eyebrows just to irritate me. Rolling my eyes I look away, the floor becoming more interesting than Abby’s face.“It’s just a patrol that’s longer than usual because there’s gonna be a storm. I swear I’ll be fine mkay?” Fingers brush against my cheek, capturing my chin and forcing my face back in her direction.

Her cheeky grin had disappeared, instead her eyebrows furrowed not unlike my own. Her now serious persona and soft touch bursts the dam I had been holding back for so long now. “Yeah well what if something happens to you? Like the storm is too noisy and you don’t hear the infected in the building you stay at? And then you get infected and I have to live the rest of my life alone because you were stupid.” Tears well up in my eyes as the scenario plays out in my brain. Abby’s blood splattered against walls, her cries echoing-

“I’m not the best soldier at this camp for nothing ok? Have a little faith in me hmm?” Her soft spoken response interrupts my train of thought. Clenching my jaw I watch as a hint of a smile protrudes from her lips, her large hands tapping at the backs of my thighs. “It’ll only be like 5 days. You’ll live without me for that long won’t you?” She scrunches her nose up almost mocking me. I can’t help but smile sadly.

“I’ll miss you.” I whisper moving my hands across her broad shoulders and down her biceps enjoying the feeling of her muscles contracting beneath my palms. Abby smiles at my reply. Leaning down, I capture her lips in a kiss, my hands crawling up her shoulders and neck to rest on the sides of her face. A few tears fall down my cheeks as I pull away from her resting my forehead on her own.

“You’re such a baby.” Abby whispers lightheartedly, using her thumb to wipe away the stray tears on my face. “Shut up.” I half chuckle half sob, burying my face in her neck. She shifts slightly, her hand coming up to rest on my back before ruining the moment. “I have to go soon babe.” Abby sighs.

I ignore her. If I just keep holding her she can’t leave.

How wrong I was.

She left 4 days ago and I had been a nervous wreck ever since.

“Leah please.” I beg standing before my friend with my hands clasped together. “Just tell me what you know.” I groan changing my tactic and grabbing her shoulders instead, shaking them just enough to rattle her brain.

“I’ve already told you everything I know.” She replies in the same whiny tone I used, slapping my hands off her shoulders and crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m in the same boat dumbass, Jordans out there with her and Manny.” She rolls her eyes with a hint of a smile. I groan again and sit back on the chair in the stadium field. “They’ll be back soon, hopefully tonight.” She adds picking up a ball and throwing it for Bear, her favourite dog, to chase.

A few more hours pass and still no word from Abby and the rest of the patrol unit. Sitting in the cafeteria, I simply poke half heartedly at the green beans on my plate, wishing Abby was here to eat them for me like she always did when I hear the yells of the soldiers outside, signalling a truck coming through the gates.

Jumping up, I discard my tray and rush towards the arena praying that a certain blonde haired woman would meet me there.

Barging through the arena doors my heart skips a beat at seeing Abby hop off the back of the truck, seemingly in ok form.

Rushing past Jordan whose eyes are glued to Leah, and Manny who holds out his arms for a hug about four different women, I launch into my girlfriend who stumbles backwards slightly as she catches my full body weight in her muscular arms. Before she can even open her mouth to speak I press my lips to hers in a bruising kiss that leaves no room for breathing.

I only pull away to get some air back before my lips are on hers again and again and again. Somewhere between the 7th and 10th kiss Abby begins to chuckle trying to pry my face off of hers with little success as I chase her lips again and again and again.

“Baby.” She manages to say causing me to stop my current activities and smile adoringly at her. “I’m expecting that kind of welcome home after every patrol now.” Abby’s blue eyes crinkle at the sides as her nose scrunches with her smile. I shake my head at her. “No, because I forbid you from ever doing that again.” I scoff running my hands up and down her arms. “That was hard.” I add causing Abby’s eyebrows to raise as she puts me down. “Oh I’m sorry, did you fight hordes of infected and a few handfuls of Scars?” She teases poking my chest with a smirk.

Rolling my eyes I glance back at the small crowd gathered to see the units return, my cheeks flushing at the thought of them witnessing my previous acts.

“Let’s go to our room.” I tug at Abby’s hand as she grabs her belongings out the car. “You smell like shit.” I tease. In a flash Abby’s arms wrap around my waist as she lifts me off the floor causing me to let out a squeak, her face nuzzling itself into my neck. “And now you smell like shit too.” Her voice is muffled by my skin.

“Guess we are gonna have to shower together.”

[harleehazbinfics]

Home is where my Heart is.

Chapter 8: An Angel's Head Table of Contents | Profile

Word Count: 2128 A/N: aaaaa take it. we're getting more miledy backstory in the next chapter, cheers!

Feeling a gentle hand sweep through my face, I open my eyes and see Al. I wiped my own tears away and sat up.

“Couldn’t sleep well?” he asked somberly.

“Yeah, just- it’s just a few months until her birthday is all. I just miss her so much,” I answered hugging myself trying to shake my anxiety.

He sighs, probably feeling the same way. Al left us before Abby could even reach her 4th birthday. He adored Abigail, in some way she had her grandmother’s face that made him attached to her even more. So, leaving without seeing Abby through adulthood has been rough on him. Though I’ve him told stories about our lives, how Abby missed him and often quoted his sayings from his recorded shows that she begged me to give her when she found it in her father’s old studio when we were cleaning it out. It warmed his heart that he was still an important part of her life despite being gone, clearly pleased that he didn’t end up like his own dad that he grown to despise.

“I know, but since we haven’t found her here. She must be off up there, somewhere better… safer…” he mutters almost regretfully.

I tried to smile and held his hand in assurance, “Yeah, I hope you’re right.”

He raises his lips to a smile and says, “Well then! How about some breakfast to lighten up the mood?” and guides me to the table in the woods in our room placing a dish for me and a deer carcass on his side. I roll my eyes playfully at him and said, “I’m not standing next to you if you don’t take a mint after.”

“Of course, of course. I won’t forget.”

While we enjoyed our meal together, the door bursts open to reveal Vaggie and a bunch of Eggbois.

“Alastor!”

His eyes shifted from her to me and his meal before replying, “Do you mind? I’m in the middle of breakfast.”

“Good morning to you too, Vaggie,” I greet before eating a mouthful of the meal that Alastor prepared for me.

“Hi,” she responds dryly, “Pentious' eggs are all over the place, and I need you to get rid of them.”

He throws away his utensils and summons his microphone before responding, “Oh, well, in that case, I'd be delighted to!”

“Humanely!”

“Hmm. Well, that's a lot less fun,” he remarks turning his head from Vaggie and on to me revealing his glowing red eyes and the x-mark on his forehead, “but I suppose I can take care of that on my outing today.”

“Great!” she looks at our table and sees the dead deer and comments, “That looks disgusting.”

“Dear, can you wait after breakfast?” I sighed, while Vaggie saw herself out.

“Alright, I can wait,” he smiled smiling at me and sitting in front of me again.

“Hello, little men. How are you all doing today?”

“Hi, pretty fish lady! We’re well, though we got kicked out by the owners, now we’re going wherever you go!”

I laugh at them petting their heads, “I see. Now be good eggbois and follow Alastor and I closely. We don’t want you ending up cracked.”

They saluted at us rather clumsily making it endearing for me to look at, they remind me so much of how the children in the orphanage played pretend.

As we enter Pentagram City, the little Eggbois kept pestering Alastor with questions making me cover my giggles under my hand as I watched his eye twitch in annoyance from their never-ending questions.

“This seems rather familiar. Remember when Abby reached the age where she would question us about everything?” I started with a smile, trying to calm him down.

He huffs out a laugh and nods, then shakes his head, “She was so talkative, it seemed like she would never lose her voice.”

“She’s a lot like you in that way,” I grin bumping my hips at him.

We get caught off-guard when Zestial comes before us, I guess we were so engrossed in our conversation that we missed this mighty being’s arrival.

“Hark, Alastor, M’lady. How fare thee this day?”

He places a peck on my hand in greeting while Alastor makes a little static sound.

“Who's that, boss? Want me to rough him up for you?”

“Follow in silence if you value your shell!” he replies tapping their heads and then turns back, “Greetings, Zestial!”

“Ah, the weather, doth become this fine day.”

 “Indeed, looks like we might have some acid rain this afternoon!”

Not a moment later, a demon overhearing their conversation lights themselves on fire and runs away screaming, my eyes following his figure before our party continues with our walk. I let the two gentlemen talk with themselves—listening in to their conversation.

“If our luck doth hold! I do revel in the screams. How art thou? It has been an age since thou hath graced us thy presence. Some hath spun wild tales of you falling to... holy arms.”

As he says this, my eyes couldn’t help but widen at the implication. This wasn’t just about him helping Charlie, who by proxy is Lucifer’s daughter—an angel. Does he mean that he made a deal with someone from heaven. With a confused look, I turn my eyes on Alastor who looks around somewhat nervously.

“Oh, I just took a well-earned sabbatical, nothing serious,” he adjusts his bowtie in the mirror as he answers, “Though it's fun to keep everyone on their toes!”

“There too hath been rumor of thy involvement with the princess and her recent flight of fancy. Tell me,” he stops walking and opens his coat briefly, making me somewhat embarrassed for looking directly at him, “how does thou fall in such folly?

“That is for me to know. But please, do guess, I'd love to know the theories!” Alastor answers holding his cane in one hand and the other on my waist pulling us forward.

“T'would be grander folly by far to assume the workings of your mind, Alastor. Thou hath been naught but an enigma since thy manifested in this realm!” Zestial comments.

“Coming from someone as ancient as you, I take that as quite the compliment!” Alastor ‘smiles’ as we arrive at the entrance to Carmilla’s building. While we got on the elevator, the little Eggbois closely followed only to be stopped by Alastor.

“No, no. I have a very important task for you. Stay here and guard the front until I return,” Alastor commands making them salute. I raise my eyebrow counting only four of them. I find the other one near the door, which I pushed behind me with my foot signaling him to stay quiet.

We entered the venue, quietly greeting Rosie then sitting between her and Alastor.

“Welcome, Hell sovereign overlords. I've invited you all here because you represent the controlling powers of our city. Together, you own millions of souls. Souls at risk with the new Extermination schedule. We need to discuss what can be done to minimize the impact to our interest.”

“Zestial, so good to see you, my friend,” she greets when he sits near her.

He summons a teacup and saucer and replies, “Enchanted as always, Carmilla.”

She finally notices my husband and calls him, “Alastor?”

He replies smugly, “Yes, I know I've been absent some time. I'm sure you've all been wondering!”

“...Not really. But welcome back in any case,” she replies dismissing him which he narrows his eyes in offence to.

“This year's Extermination was brutal, far more even than years past. We have assessed that about 16% of the population was lost With the angelic legions now returning twice as quickly, I think it prudent we—"

She gets cut off when Velvette enters the room on the phone with presumably one of the other Vees, side-eyeing her for her impertinence.

“Yes, I've got it handled, Vox. Are you doubting me? Really? Me? That's what I thought. Haha! Yes, I know. They're all a joke. Thank you, V. See you soon. Kisses, darling.”

“Nice of you to join us, Velvette. Will your... colleagues be joining?” Carmilla asks despite being rudely cut off by the brat.

“No, they have better shit to do than to listen to an old windbag who thinks she's tough shit. I'm here to represent.”

“Charming. So, as I was saying, we need to discuss—"

She again interrupts Carmilla by waving her hand to get her attention.

“Yes?”

“On the subject of discussion,” she starts before taking out an Exorcist’s head throwing it onto the table lolling side to side as it rests in front of us.

“Holy shit!”

“Oh! Tasty...”

Narrowing her eyes, Carmilla asks, “Where did you get this?”

“We found it during Extermination Day. If these Holy Rollers can be killed, the game has changed. We can take the fight to them. The boys and I have come up with a full assault plan—"

Velvette stops talking as she and the other overlords look at Zestial, who is sipping his tea loudly and aggressively to drown out Velvette.

“If it be true thee and thy colleagues desire to war with such meagre proof, thou art far more... foolish than I be thought,” he laughs.

Velvette scoffs and crosses her arms, “Meagre proof? It's a dead fucking Exorcist. I'd say that's pretty fucking definitive. You going blind, old man?”

“We know not how this perished. Mayhaps t'was not by a demon's hand at all. If we rush to war without knowing mightn't, they purge all of Hell for daring an uprising?”

The other overlords mutter in agreement. Velvette notices Carmilla's expression and smiles.

“Oh, I get it. So, Grandpa is too pussy to fight, so I guess there's no point, right?” she says getting on Zestial’s face, “Oh, what's the matter, Fossil? Too senile to make a real power grab for—"

I lost myself with Carmilla and Velvette’s little duet. They’re completely different styles but they blended well together which I appreciated a lot. Despite Velvette being a little brat coming here, I can’t help but enjoy her singing. I got startled when Carmilla announces that the meeting was over. We didn’t even properly start it when Velvette came in and suggested picking a fight with heaven.

Alastor and I walk out of the room eyes never leaving Carmilla. She seemed so defeated.

“Hmm. Well, that's interesting,” he then points at the remaining Eggboi with his cane, “You, little egg creature. I have a job for you.”

“Oh. Yes, boss!”

“Follow them!”

He then salutes and scuttles over inside the room.

I looked at it worriedly, “Will he be alright?”

“Darling. It’s a little egg thing. No need to get so attached,” he titters holding my waist and takes us to the elevator.

“But it’s so cute!” I pouted.

“Alright, we’ll ask Pentious if he can lend you one of them when he can,” he compromises making me beam at him. “Only if, he can tell us something valuable.”

“Deal!” I reply excitedly then giving him a kiss on the cheek are we got off the elevator and waited for the little egg to report to us.

He bounded happily and stops in front of us.

“So, what did you hear?” 

“First, the old guy w-was all, "Y-you're not yourself. You're the one who killed the angel," a-a-and, she was all, "♪ Whatever it takes ♪"” he reports clumsily making me smile a how adorable it was.

“And then what was the last thing?" Alastor asks getting annoyed by how jumbled up his sentences were.

“She killed the angel?”

Alastor hums finding this information important, “Interesting. Let’s keep this between us. Shall we?”

“You got it, boss!”

My eyes still wide about the information, “She killed exorcists? How? I mean the evidence was staring at us dead in the face, quite literality but, this changes everything.”

“Indeed. We should keep this to ourselves for now, this could help us someday,” he answers mysteriously.

He’s been doing that more often now with me after those years that he stayed gone. Oh Al, what happened.

We arrive at the hotel seeing them get together so happily bantering with one another.

Vaggie says from the balcony, “Alastor. failed to get rid of the eggs, I see.”

“Yes, well, the little monsters prove to be rather useful,” Alastor replies eyes glowing with excitement.

“Why don't you give them back to Pentious,” she says smiling.

“Really? Sir Pentious asks teary-eyed.

“Yeah. After today, I guess I can trust you with them. But seriously, no more weapons,” she announces putting her foot down.

“Why don’t we go to our room ourselves, dear?” Alastor suggests escorting back us to our room.

[creelkobblelaufeyson69]

The nanny

Warnings: gore and angst

They stood in front of Abigail, despite finding out she’s a vampire and has tried to kill them. They didn’t want Frank to kill her, which made Frank feel betrayed. They held a steak close to them as they looked angrily at him. Frank couldn’t tolerate all the other’s in the group, but them

They kept to themselves while everyone was getting close to each other. They knew it would be risky to get close to anyone here, but they got close to him. They didn’t open up yet, because they were afraid that it would bite them in their ass if they did. He didn’t mind though. He knew they were listening, and he thought it was nice to be heard by someone who actually listened

But now he stood in front of them with bloody fangs ready to tear them apart if they didn’t get out of the way. They held their composure together like this wasn’t their first time doing this. “Really? You didn’t give a fuck about her, and now all of the sudden you do? You really can’t make up your mind, huh?” He starts as he realizes there obviously wasn’t something he knew

He didn’t actually know if they wanted to hurt Abigail in the first place. They stood quiet and on guard. He approached them, which makes them attack quickly. He grabs their wrists, and grins. He breaks their wrists, which makes them hide their pain. “They work for my dad. That’s why” Abigail says with pain in her voice, which makes Frank look at her

They switched to their other hand, and then stabbed him in his shoulder. He now shoves them across the room, and then takes it out of his shoulder blade. He looks back at them, and now was extremely pissed off. His only focus on them now as they get back up despite the pain they’re in. They looked at him, and despite being pissed off, was quite impressed with their pain tolerance

“Backstabber” he says angrily, which makes them smirk. “What’s with the stupid smirk?” He asked with annoyance. “You know you could join me. You could have all of this. Fuck I’d let you break some rules if you’d just be by my side throughout this”

They knew better than to fall for that trick, but a part of them wanted to believe him. But it was hard to when he was still a complete stranger towards them still. He approaches them, and they stepped back immediately. “I’d pay you more than her dad does” he adds, but it wasn’t about the money for them, and he quickly figured that out

They wanted to stab him, but find themselves not motioning their non broken wrist to stab. Abigail looks distraught at the scene before her. It was her turn to feel betrayed by them. But she hadn’t given up on them yet, since she knew how strong they truly were. “Drop it” he orders, and they listen

Abigail watches in horror, and her given up on them was on thin ice. “Do you want to know why I picked up this job?” They started, which makes him shocked to hear them speak. “Why?” He responds with curiosity in his blue eyes. “Because I do enjoy my second job more than my first one. I was financially fine, but the thrill of this was what I needed. I was never apart of Abigail’s games because her father saw me as just the nanny who got paid to watch over his daughter when he couldn’t” they explained truthfully

“It helped me get my stress out, so I couldn’t be afraid. But I’m afraid now, even if I don’t show it. Lazar fucking scares me, so that’s also why I have such a tough facade” they added as he moves closer towards them. There was no turning back now. The truth was out, and they felt weaker than ever before

“What if I let you kill him? I kill the kid, deal?” He says once he’s close towards them. “Please” he begs, and it felt a little weird seeing him this condition. But a part of them knew it was staged, but they still let him get close to them. The twos foreheads are practically touching as they find their hands in his own

The two’s foreheads press together, and they felt a sense of fear of themselves with how not in control they were. Abigail cries out their name, still unable to get up from his recent attack. They had tears leaving their eyes as the two let go of each other. “The pain will be over soon. I promise” he turns to face Abigail now, and went over to attack her

Blood drips off of him. Blood covered them as Abigail was crying. He turns to face them in shock at the steak that’s been stabbed into his heart. Before he could say anything, he exploded. More blood covers them and Abigail. They go over towards her, and helped her up. She was finally completely healed; she held onto them as they looked at the mess

They sobbed now, and felt defeated regardless of killing him. They noticed a bite mark on their shoulder, and wondered when he snuck that. He attacked them when they attacked him again. They looked at it in horror. “Shit” they cursed as she looks at it too. “Please tell me I’ll be fine” they looked at her now. “Do you want the truth?” They didn’t need to hear the rest to know that they were going to turn at given moment

[boobabietch]

Like I Would | Abby Anderson x fem!reader

Warnings: I could say mdni but they are going to do it anyways so just be mindful that this is +18 and I’m not responsible of the things you watch on this godforsaken site. SMUT, Sub!abby, thigh riding, oral sex (Abby receiving), afab!reader, teasing and I think that’s it but tell me if I missed something

A/N: oh my fucking god this took ages to writeeee, but anyways, hi there!! This is the first time I write for Abby so please excuse me if this is bad (hopefully not because I really liked the result) and also I haven’t wrote smut in ages so excuse that too. I’m not an English native speaker so any mistakes I’m not aware of please tell me so I can change them asap. If you like this you would help me a lot with a like, comment or reblog. Love Sof :)

Word count: 2.1k

"So... are you telling me that he went in dry?" You said this in clear distress to your best friend, Abby.

 "Yes?" she said with a little hesitation in her voice.

 "And you're still seeing that guy? No wait, let me rephrase that, you're still letting that guy fuck you?" You were astonished by the information Abby just shared. She was so damn perfect, yet somehow she was never properly satisfied in her many experiences with sex.

 

Why am I not the one in your bed every night?

 

"I mean, he had a nice time, and that was definitely hot." Oh, fuck no, she did not just say that.

 "Shut up, Abby; that's fucked up, dude."

 "I mean, what can I say? I take pleasure in seeing people get pleased by me."

 "I mean, that's valid! Of course, but that is very different from just letting a guy use you as a sex doll without even making you cum! That's just bad sex, Bibi." You know it; you know that if you just had a chance, you could show her how fucking good she can feel.

 "Ok, stop bothering me. Owen is like that. He's rough. It's fine. I can take it." Of course Owen is like that; he’s an idiot.

 "Abbyyyy, that's not the issue, and you know it."  

Come on, a chance, just one single chance, Abigail, please.

 

Let me fuck his name away, please

 

You begged, you literally begged in your mind, to be the one to show Abby that release she was desperately looking for.

 "Well, miss know-it-all, if you're going to roast the shit out of me, at least tell me what I'm doing wrong."

 "Abby, you're choosing the wrong guys. They can't please you."

 

They are not me.

 

"They can't?" The cockiness in her voice could be heard a mile away.

 

Shit, what game are we playing?

 "Of course they can’t, I'm telling you! They just don't know what to do with you. They don't know how to properly treat you, Bibi."

They don’t know, but I do and you know it

 "Oh, lord, then who knows? Who knows how to treat me? You?" That fucking giggle she let out after voicing the question...

You were taken aback by it. You had the thought before, every damn night, of Abby all over you, kissing her hungrily like you were starved, your lips biting and sucking every inch of her body, marking her as yours, screaming your name like it was a fucking prayer, like she wanted God to be a witness of the sin happening between you two. Of course you had the thought before...

 

Fuck it, I’m fucking you.

 

"Yes."

 "Yes?"

 "I said yes; I'm pretty sure I can do it."

 "Then do it; make me fucking cum."

There was something in Abby’s eyes that told you how much she wanted you, how much she craved you, and how much she needed you.

With little to no hesitation, you aggressively pulled her lips into yours, the couch creaking with the sudden movement of your body towering over her. Straddling her hips, her hand traveled to your neck while yours got entangled in her hair, pushing her face impossibly closer to yours.

Her scent makes you dizzy even to remember; your whole senses were full of her; you were breathing her, touching her, and hearing her; she was being engraved in your mind like stone; her body warmth was surrounding your body, making you feel hot and heavy.

Your lips left the comfort of hers to travel to her neck. "Please, just, fuck, just..." she mumbled.

Abby’s head was empty; your body was caging her between the couch, and the way your lips were kissing her soft, velvet skin made her sigh dreamily and made your core ache in agony.

But this wasn’t about you; it was about her.

You started spreading little bites that made her whimper, just so you could smooth out the ache on her red and burning skin afterwards with your tongue, licking on the spots where a mark would be noticeable tomorrow.

 You guided Abby to your bed, stumbling into the furniture of your little apartment, and then kicking open the door of your bedroom. Abby sat on your bed, her lips only leaving yours just to tear her shirt and pants away, leaving her only in her fucking black boxers.

 The thing is, you’ve been fantasizing about that slutty piece of clothing since the first time you saw her waistband peeking over her jeans, just there, resting and calling you to tear them apart and make her yours there and then.

 She lays on your pillows, watching you discard your shirt on the floor. Your nipples perked up because of the sudden cold air that hit them.

 "You are so fucking beautiful," she said with her hands traveling to your hips, guiding you to rest on top of her again, now being her the one pressing kisses all over your chest and toying with the hem of your pajama shorts.

 "I know pretty one, but let’s focus on you, shall we?" And with a sudden move, you made Abby straddle you while you rested with your back on the headboard.

 You kissed her, and a long whine came out of Abby’s lips. Ready to give her some relief, you grabbed her hips, guiding her to grind her clothed cunt on your bare thigh.

 "Holy fuck!" It was sparkling; it literally felt like the sparks that come out of a lighter before the flame comes out to burn everything on its path.

 "You like that, huh? You desperate little thing, you love this." Abby never felt more turned on by someone; it was like heaven—like a perverted, hot, and burning heaven—shit that sounded more like hell, but if hell felt this good, she would be the biggest sinner of all just so she could feel you again.

 Her movements started to become erratic; she moved faster and harsher; her mouth started to let out little moans and profanities; and your skin was now soaked and dripping just from Abby’s fluids.

 "You want to cum pretty one? You deserve this one bibi come on," and with that, a long moan came out of her mouth, your hands guiding her to ride her high.

 "Shit, shit, shit, you are so fucking hot," she said, leaning for more kisses, but you dodged her face.

 "No uh, lay for me, Abs. Be a good girl." She watched you with doe eyes as she complied, slowly laying in your mattress below you once again. You swear that you have never seen her like this, so compliant and at your mercy. You swore that if you struck a knife on her stomach right now mercilessly, she would accept it and thank you for it. She was in awe of you.

 Her mind cleared again when the cold air hit her soaking cunt, and she became aware that you had just removed her boxers and were now staring at that pretty and glistening pussy she had.

 "Is this okay?" you asked, seeing how she looked at you like a deer in headlights.

 "Yes, just do it, please." The agony in her voice became visible when she stuttered the confirmation. You came closer to her face, leaving some soft and slow kisses all over her face

 "Okay, Abs, what do you want me to do?" You said it with the most innocent and indecent tone of yours.

 "Wha- what?" She stumbled over the words because, holy fuck, you were unreal.

 "Yes, Abby, what do you want me to do?" You said slowly parting her legs with your knee, pressing it in her cunt, and start grinding it slowly just to tease the whiny mess you had underneath.

 "Your mouth, your fingers, I want you; please, I want you in me," she finally said, rushing the words out of her mouth.

 "Your wish is my command, pretty girl." With that, you kissed your way down, sucking a little bit her nipples and leaving hickeys all over her chest. You made it to her cunt, slowly kissing the inside of her legs.

 "Fuck, please y/n, please just do something." God, she was so needy.

 You licked a line from her entrance all the way to her clit. She was squirming, so you grabbed her hips aggressively, pinning her to the bed. A loud moan coming from her mouth was your cue to start devouring her cunt like a starved woman, your hands applying bruising strength to her hips to keep her steady while you ate her out in the most ungodly way you knew.

 Feeling how wet she was, you slipped two fingers into her, knocking the air out of her lungs. You began curling them at her spongy spot, playing with the pace, and then you added your mouth to the equation.

 It was too much, but also not enough, and also perfect. Abby’s hand found its way to your hair, gripping it tightly as the other one covered her mouth to muffle her loud moans.

 "Hey no, I want to hear your beautiful sounds, ok? So loose the hand or I’ll have to tie it to the headboard" you said, not liking a little bit how hard she was trying to not make a sound. It was your fucking apartment; if your neighbors had any complaints, they could shove it up their asses. Hell, even if it was God and Satan themselves, they could religiously go suck a dick if they were bothered.

 Your unholy pace kept going alongside your delirious way to eat cunt, and hearing Abby moan your name like she was trying to carve it in the walls was a fucking dream come true

 And then she felt it—the knot forming in her stomach, begging to be untied. The sweat made loose strands of her hair stick to her forehead, the reflex of her hips buckling upwards towards the stimuli, begging for more. The primal instinct to let out the most beautiful whines and moans you'd ever heard, and the urge to bury your face deeper into her cunt just so she could let all that pressure in her core out in that sweet and strong release she was hoping for.

 Your eyes traveled upwards, and you saw Abby's face, eyes completely shut down with tears threatening to fall out, all her face contorted with her brows furrowed, and you knew she was there.

 "It's okay, pretty one. You can just let go; it's fine," you said. Abby gasped at the sudden loss of contact while you spoke, but then this sudden feeling of pleasure traveled from her body to her core, making her legs shake and the grip she had in your hair become even harsher. "It's okay, Abby. You can let go," and with this came the orgasm she was begging God to have.

 Her cum dripping all over your chin, you helped her ride her high, slowly decreasing the pace your fingers had at her now-abused hole until you saw her visibly relax all the muscles in her body, flopping onto the mattress.

 With a last kiss on her puffy clit, you made your way up her body, scanning all the marks you left in her hips from the strength you were using to hold her down and the purplish hickeys forming all over her breasts, proving how good you made her feel.

 You kissed away all those tears, showering her face with kisses while whispering sweet nothings and compliments. And then, finally, you kissed her lips with such tenderness, as if she were made of porcelain and you were afraid of breaking her, a complete contrast to your first kiss of the night.

 Abby's hand traveled to cup your cheek, while the other wrapped around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. She had just experienced her first orgasm during sex, and the entire time, she felt loved and cared for by you, making her weak in the knees.

 You pulled away, looking expectantly into her eyes. "So, how was it?" you asked, a little grin forming on your lips.

 Abby was so enamored with the view of you on top of her, breathing heavily, blushing cheeks, all sweaty and perfect, that she couldn't speak. She tried your lips just today, and just as quickly as it sounds, she became obsessed with how perfectly your entire existence fit with hers, making her feel complete and incredibly good.

 After cleaning up, you lay facing upwards with Abby nestled beside you, burying her face in your neck. Abby was a big, intimidating, and dominant woman most of the time, but sometimes she just wanted someone to take care of her, just as she took care of everyone else. And you were that someone. Tonight, with her whole body pressed into you and your digits tracing shapes on her bare back, you thought while pressing your lips to her forehead.

 

Hell yeah, I could get used to this.

Tags: @cvqii @akinui

Requests are: open!

Masterlist

[ccghastly]

hello i absolutely love your sleeping headcanons they're so cuuute!!! may i request some sleeping headcanons for javier? i know he's been mentioned a bit but i would love to know more he's my precious meow meow 💕

Javier and Sleep

A fourth installment of Headcanons 

I’m impossibly happy that you folks are enjoying these!

Howdy Anon! 💝

I really don't know if I've the best grasp on Javier's character, so you're really challenging me on this one, but I'll still try my best!! 

Hope you like it!

One of the few members of camp that actually has a nighttime routine

Washing his face, cleaning his teeth, changing out of his day clothes so his bedroll stays tidy, etc.

Some nights he likes to treat himself to a cup of this herbal tea that Hosea’s got him hooked on, but he’s always worried about running through it too fast. At the rate he’d like to drink it, he'd be begging more off of Hosea every three days, and that's an embarrassing enough thought to keep a lid on his budding addiction.

(Please note that Hosea restocks him every two weeks or so, and absolutely would not mind doing so more often. Would probably be very flattered that Javier likes it that much, but alas, we must leave Javier his pride)

Javier hates it when people wearing their day clothes sit or lay on his bedroll, it makes him feel uncomfortable and unclean everytime he then has to use his bedroll, until he can find the time to go through the bother of cleaning it. 

And yes he cleans it himself. He has a nice bedroll, and he’s seen what the Ladies are used to having to do to get the other men’s bedrolls clean. He's not risking it. 

Javier really only gets overly hot or cold if the weather is being problematic, he typically sleeps fine no matter how hot it is, but when it gets too cold he starts getting a little desperate.

How can anyone expect him to sleep while his teeth are chattering so hard he’s going to have less teeth than uncle come morning.

Discovering that Arthur is a snoring furnace was a glorious day.

The first time it happened was genuinely an accident. Javier and Arthur had been ironing out the issues on a few plans in Arthur's tent and only when Abigail shooed Jack into Arthur’s tent for bedtime did they realize how late it had gotten, and Arthur invited Javier to just stay the night instead of slogging back through the snow for his own bedroll.

That perfect night of finally getting to be warm awoke a horribly greedy beast within Javier. He was thenceforth determined to sleep in proximity to Arthur until either it stopped snowing or he dropped dead. Fully willing to lie, cheat, swindle, beg, and kill to ensure it.

He shared a roof and a mattress with innumerable cousins when he was younger and still finds the sounds of others snoozing nearby to be very soothing.

Is also used to fighting for the blankets and has an undefeated claw grip on any and every blanket he can get his unconscious little fingers around. Be very wary of getting any blanket too close to a sleepy Javier, 9/10 chance you will lose it.

Pretty easy to wake, but be warned that you will not get a single coherent sentence until he’s had the time to properly wake himself up. (he honestly might be speaking Spanish, but no one can really tell with how mumbled and slurred it is.)

Likes chewing mint leaves to get the taste of morning breath out of his mouth.

Very cuddly while he's groggy.

Charles has been startled so many times by a sleepy Javier just flopping onto him.

Javier draping over his back while he’s sat drinking his coffee, Javier using him as a leaning post while he’s stood watching the sun kiss the horizon, Javier dropping his face into Charles' belly to hide while Charles was laid dozing. 

The amount of times that Javier nearly got shanked before Charles got used to him is a truly alarming number.

Nowadays Charles is very used to Javier's tactile inclinations, and he quite likes getting to spend this quiet time with the other man. Finds it a bit adorable tbh. 

Javier is only blearily aware of these occurrences, but he’s very grateful for Charles’ unjudging indulgence of his peculiarities. He likes to do Charles simple favors and give him little trinkets as thanks.

(Wow, this got way longer than I thought it would)

Links to the rest of this series ↓

Arthur and Sleep

John and Sleep

Charles and Sleep

[azures-bazar]

Peculiar Scents

Let's be honest, almost everyone agrees that 1899!John rarely takes baths and is somewhat dirty all day long ! lol

And here is another very weird one-shot my brain managed to work with ! I wrote this between 2 coffees while on a break, please don't mind my awful mistakes ! :')

The gif can be explained later in this one-shot ! This is not a ship.

John Marston x GenderNeutral!reader

Word count : 2k

Short summary : You can’t stand it anymore. This smell is terrible ! John didn’t wash in three weeks... and you can't let him keep going.  

A/note : This is NOT A SHIP ! The reader is having a very friendly/sibling-like relationship with John Marston. I’m too much into John x Abigail (or even John x Javier), sorry :’)

Tags : cute, John is terrified of water, ancient rubber duck, flowers, bath, good and bad scents, John is always dirty, chapter 3, siblings

"No !"

John’s voice sounded across camp. You and Sean had been chasing him for over an hour to convince him to wash himself. You had first attempted to be very nice to him, gently asking him to just rub a piece of wet cloth over his body, which did not seem to work much. Sean was more brutal, carrying ropes to lasso him while John kept walking around camp to get away from the two of you. However, despite giving your best effort to convince him to clean himself a little, John was not ready to accept your request. Abigail had begged you while Arthur had given up, you kindly obliged. 

"Pa’ always stinks !" you heard Jack say almost twice a day

"I can’t walk by his tent no more." the girls had told you

"Sometimes I feel like there’s a rotting corpse in his tent !" Pearson often complained 

"I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that he’s peeing by his bed every morning to mark his territory…" Bill usually sighed when passing by John’s tent

In fact, you were one of the first victims of his terrible smell. Your tent was right next to his, and his horrible scent of sweat could only make you feel nauseous as soon as you would wake up and while he would open his tent flaps, unleashing his body odours for at least five minutes. The two of you were always paired to go on guard duty at the same time, so it meant that you were sharing the same schedule when it came to rest in your respective tents. Dutch had firmly refused to move your quarters away from John’s, believing it would certainly enrage Ms. Grimshaw and disturb her overall organisation. He also thought it would lead other members to actively start asking the girls and Arthur to move their tents depending on their moods… and Sean would have been the first to ask for his tent to be moved closer to Lenny’s. 

As far as you could recall, John had always hated baths, and it was painfully hard to convince him otherwise. When you got inducted into the gang by Dutch, just five or six years after John, you could easily remember his smell and how bad you felt when he was too close to you, feeling nauseous most of the time. You adored him, he was the closest to a brother to you, you were always paired with him and hanged with him quite often, but his overall body odour could not make you stay near him for more than a hour without leading you to get some serious migraines. He would wash every once in a while, probably three times a month, which was a miracle considering his hatred for water in general. 

Quite often, Arthur had to hogtie him and drop him into the nearest lake or river, or even go to the closest saloon to give him a proper bath. And, indeed, John hated that. He hated being hogtied and forced into water and would never miss the opportunity to complain whenever someone would do that to him. 

"Get back here, Marston !" Sean shouted from behind you 

"I said no !" 

"Oi, ya ain’t gonna go far, we can track ya with yer bloody scent !" 

Arthur watched you pass before him with a smirk, proceeding to draw a scene of you and Sean chasing Arthur in his journal. He could feel empathy for the two of you, despite this sight was probably the most delightful comedy he had ever watched so far. He had been at your place for years, and seeing someone else have to catch Marston to give him a bath was a very nice comedy to watch ! 

"John, please !" you shouted 

"Leave me be !" 

You kept walking around camp for a while as Sean was preparing his lasso. John’s quick walk was also quite comical to watch, the way he moved his hips and arms made him look like a real clown. A dirty clown. You grumbled as John started running away from camp, quickly getting on your horse as Sean followed you, climbing on Ennis. He was ready to lasso John, who was trying his best to get away from Clemens Point by running as fast as he could. What a surprising thing to watch, just a few weeks ago, he could barely walk due to his recent scars ! 

"C’mon Marston !" Sean laughed. "Some water ain’t gonna kill ya !" 

"Leave me and my dirt alone !" Marston shouted 

"Ain’t got a chance !" you laughed 

John was not going to let anyone take him to take a bath. He hated water, he always had. Bessie had been the only one who had successfully convinced him to bathe, he would do it as soon as she would ask. However, since her passing, it had been overwhelmingly difficult to get Marston to take a bath. He was deadly scared of water, for some reason. Arthur did try his best to teach him to swim, but Marston never succeeded, nearly drowning more than once. It always took a few gang members to drag him into water by now, and you were often among these poor fellers that would be chosen to give him a bath. 

After a very short time, Sean successfully lassoed John, you went down your horse, you tied his hands in his back. He started swearing, begging you to let go, wriggling as much as he could to set himself free. You had to pinch your nose, what a terrible smell ! Even Sean, who’s overall body odour was mix between whiskey and cigarettes, smelled better than John ! 

"Yer goin’ to take a bath, Marston !" MacGuire happily said, dragging John to Ennis 

"Leave me alone !" he responded, wriggling his arms to get the rope away from his wrists 

"I can’t stand your smell anymore, John." you grumbled. "I seriously can’t. So you’re going to take a bath or…-" 

"Or what ?! I ain’t a kid no more, Y/N ! You can’t just scold me like a child ! I ain’t a…-" 

"Next time, I’ll take our boat right here and throw you into the lake so you won’t ever reach the edge of Clemens Point." 

John gasped and grumbled, nodding in shame as Sean dragged him on Ennis. You led the way to Rhodes, heading to the saloon in which MacGuire paid for John’s bath, but refused to come with you. You were going to deal with him alone, while Sean would certainly drink at the counter and probably pass out. All the work was on shoulders, but you agreed with that. You led John to the bathroom, quickly pulling his pants down. Indeed, you were going to have to get him naked, which would certainly be the hardest thing you would ever have to do. 

"H-hey !" he blushed 

"Wanna get wet clothes ?" you asked 

"No, but do you really need to undress me ?" 

"Unless you do it yourself." 

John rolled eyes. You headed to the door and locked yourself in with him, he rose his hands for you to untie them. You obliged and turned around, giving him enough privacy to undress, grumbling a little while sliding into the bathtub. The water was foamy enough for you to avoid seeing his body parts, making you feel much more comfortable. Indeed, you did not want to see John bare body, so you would not dig your hands in the warm water. You turned back, John was keeping his knees close to his chest, giving you a death stare as you approached. 

"You ain’t gonna drown here, John." you said. "Relax."

"I hate you, Y/N. I hate you and Sean." 

"No need remind me, I already know that and love you too." 

"I said I ha…-"

"Me too."  

You walked around the bathtub, looking around the shelves, picking a very peculiar yellowish form into your hands. A rubber duck, you had seen many of these on the shelves of a variety of shops, they were relatively new in stores. John could not relax, you quickly threw the rubber duck in the tub, making him gasp as water got splashed over his grumpy face. 

"What the hell is that ?!" he asked, rubbing his eyes 

"It’s a rubber duck." you answered. "I think they got these to keep children entertained." 

"Do I look like a child ?!"

You nodded with a large smile, causing John to turn shades darker. You had been aware about him being constantly belittled by Arthur, frequently being told he was a child… you even heard Hosea mention that even little Jack was far much docile !

"When you refuse to take a bath, I swear I feel like I’m having Jack right here. It’s funny, though." you laughed

"Damn." 

"It ain't my fault if you can't behave better than your four-year-old boy."

"You can't be serious right now."

You laughed and shrugged, causing Marston to sigh. You watched John looking at this strange realistic looking rubber duck while washing his hair, calmly rubbing his scalp. He quickly became obsessed with this rather strange duck you have him, not even realising anything about his current situation. It gave you more space to wash him without a single complaint. You still allowed him to do clean the bottom parts of his body, not wanting to go any further than his chest. John sighed, still keeping the duck under his arm as MacGuire knocked at the door. 

"Dead-Eye MacGuire here !" he shouted. "Open the door ! "

"Don’t let him in." John grumbled. "Please, don’t."

"If I make him stay outside, you can be sure this place will be on fire in a few minutes."

"Christ sake..." 

Marston sighed and turned his down. You went to the door and opened, making Sean break into the room. While quickly looking at him, you noticed him carrying a broom in one hand, and a bottle of whiskey in the other. 

"It’s cleaning time, Johnny !" MacGuire happily shouted 

"Wait, what ?!" 

"Let’s get this dirt out of your body, fella !" 

"Get away from me you damn creep !"

"Sean, wait…-" you gasped 

Sean happy sipped some whiskey and dropped an empty bottle on the nearby chair, allowing you to close the door behind him. John curled up into a ball as Sean started rubbing the broom on his soap-covered back. Marston groaned, painfully holding the rubber duck against him while his fists clenched on the sides of the bath. You watched Sean scrubbing John’s upper body until it was red, preparing a new set of clothes while John was screaming how much he hated you. Both of you. 

"I want you to rot in hell !!" 

Thankfully enough, Sean quickly stopped scrubbing John’s body, allowing him to leave the bath to get dressed while you were not watching. John refused to mount on Sean’s horse and decided to get on yours instead, grumbling all the way back to camp while holding your onto waist. Arthur came to greet you with a warm smile, John pushed him aside and quickly got into his tent, closing its flaps. 

"Damn, he smells much better !" Arthur said, gently patting your shoulder. "How d'you do this ?" 

"Well, we had to convince him in a rather kin…-" 

"We had to use violence, English." Sean stopped you. "Bad business. Very bad business."

Sean walked away as Arthur looked at you with wide eyes. Violence ? What kind of violence did you use ? You gently shook your head, quickly explaining that the treatment you gave to John was not as violent as Sean depicted it to be.

"Violence ?" Arthur smiled. "You really used violence ?"

"Sort of." you shrugged

When the night came, you could finally rest. No more bad smell, you could breathe without feeling like a cow had just covered John’s tent with shit ! However, as the smell was gone, you could hear John groan, and Hosea’s voice sounding inside his tent. You had seen Matthews preparing a mixture to help John’s back to heal after being scrubbed so violently by Sean, and thinking about him applying his balm on Marston made you chuckle to yourself. You could hear how painful it was for him, he kept whining each time Hosea would touch his back. 

"At least, you smell better !" Hosea said with a smile 

Yes. At least, he did. 

[softrozene]

“Just Go.” - Josiah

From an old event I did called the Sad Yee Haw Hours: 

Anon asked: May I get number 7 "just go" with Josiah and a fem reader? Please and thank you I hope you feel better sweet ro! 

rdr2 masterlist

Just ouch this… I don’t know whether to applaud you or boo you because wowowowow angst. Anyway, thank you baby and I hope you enjoy it! 

Originally published on May 18, 2020

Josiah Trelawny x Female Reader

Scenario Starter Number 7: “Just go.”

Warnings: Angst, mentions of cheating, I made myself mad at Josiah

Words: ~900

-

“Just go.”

The words left your mouth with a certain harshness that made Josiah flinch. He almost regrets coming over to you to receive your blessing. He didn’t realize that you would give it away so fast. He was hoping for the opposite reaction. That you would beg him to stay or take you with him, not those two words and the way you avoided making eye contact.

“My dear? What is the matter?” He asks trying to not let his voice waver in the slightest.

You take a moment to collect yourself so you don’t cry in front of him. You don’t want him to see you in tears when he goes. Your throat is dry and itchy from wanting to sob but you keep it in.

“I said just go. I have no idea why you want to torment me this way. Why you would want to leave with my blessing. Arthur already gave you his, now go,” You state.

Josiah is almost heartbroken. Whatever possessed you to change your feelings about him so quickly? Just the other day both of you had a splendid night or well as splendid as can be when all he had to work with was the surrounding trees and a few blankets and one lantern. You still enjoyed yourself and even started to call yourself the future Mrs. Trelawny. Something that made his heart burst with happiness.

“Come with me,” He states.

He didn’t even think about it. It definitely isn’t his style since his voice sounded almost desperate. You still won’t look at him and that is probably what bothers him the most. Your chest is heaving up and down as you try to contain your emotions.

He tries again watching as your face turns into one of conflicted emotion. “Come with me (Name). Let us live together and find a beautiful home. Let’s get married so you can officially be Mrs. Trelawny.”

That seemed to be your breaking point. The tears started to fall down your face and you had to take in shaky breaths so you don’t let that stupid sob coming up go. This isn’t the reaction he wanted at all. It looks like he pained you by addressing what you wished most.

His gloved fingers meet your chin and he forces you to look at him. The final wall breaks and you could no longer contain all your confusing emotions. You are crying uncontrollably now and most definitely got at least Arthur’s, John’s, and Abigail’s attention the others minding their own business.

“How dare you?” Your voice sounds so shattered that it makes his own heartache.

What did he do?

You push his chest. Your sadness slowly turning into anger. “How dare you?! Were you just going to leave them for me? How can you do this to someone you promised yourself to? How can you do that to your kids? How could you make me the other woman?”

You took out a photo he recognizes. The photo of his wife and two sons. It explains your anger now. The guilt makes him shake. He never intended you to find out.

“I… (Name), I can explain if you let me-“ You cut him off by laughing.

Your laughter is something he never wants to hear. It’s so pained and it’s from you. He caused this and seeing your heartbreak is the worst thing he has ever seen. You are hugging yourself, rocking yourself, trying to bring yourself some comfort.

“Explain what? You love me? I’m the only one for you? You fell out of love with her? You can give me a million excuses but this is the worst thing you’ve done. What is to say you wouldn’t do the same thing to me if I do marry you? I have to live with this guilt too, you know. She doesn’t know what you do when you leave, does she?” Your voice is so loud and it echoes in his mind.

Josiah takes off his hat and holds it against his chest in the form of a beg. “Please (Name). I do love you. I love you more than anything in this existence. Don’t let my foolish mistake ruin us.”

“Your foolish mistake? Your current wife and kids are mistakes to you?!”

He winces. “No, my love. That is not what I meant. Please calm down for a moment and let me ex-“

You shake your head and beg him this time. “Please just go. Go to your family right. I am staying here with my own family.”

You finally look past him to Arthur, Abigail, and John. You nod and Abigail scurries over to you to pull you into a much-needed hug. Your sobs finally coming out in fool force and you can only hold her as she rubs your back and shushes you gently.

Josiah watches you with sadness. Arthur pats him on a back and in his own way tells him it is time to leave. Your rejection will forever haunt his mind. The way your eyes watered and cried, the sound of your sobs and the pure heartbreak expressed on your face will forever be etched into his mind. He really did mess up and all he can do is listen to your plea to just go.

[thehyperfixationcorner]

Hi! Could you tell me more about Abby Cadabra? She looks awesome and I’m very intrigued, especially since she’s a witch in training! What’s her backstory so far?

This makes my day, absolutely!!

I have an into except from a pitch bible for her here, and I'll add info:

ABBY CADABRA

A WITCH IN TRAINING

QUOTE TO GET TO KNOW HER: “I’ll just say the magic words: Abby Cadabra! Ha, get it? Please laugh.”

14 year old Abigail Corriente (goes by Abby Cadabra) is a quirky, over confident, slightly egotistical Colombian descended teen witch full of spunk and heart. Ever since she was a little girl, Abby dreamt of being more. Whatever that more is she wasn’t quite sure, but still, it was hee CALLING. One day, while walking back alone from school, Abby saw the Sand-Witch (a witch who specialises in, you guessed it, sandwiches) perform, and enchanted, asked nicely (read: nagged) until she got an apprenticeship at the deli, working towards becoming a witch.

Of course, the Sand-Witch isn’t the world’s best teacher, and 4 years later, Abby still resides on Level 1 magical ability (a.k.a, the baby level), able to perform only the most basic spells (Levitation, Light, Hold the Mayo). Add some frowned upon stage magic practices (powerful playing cards, colorful handkerchiefs, those ring things that can be attached and detached), and what you have is a pretty weak (and impatient) witchling. Abby’s been begging to advance to level 2 (less pathetic baby), but the Sand-Witch doesn’t think she can cut the mustard. It seems as if Abby’s just kinda stuck.

However, when an evil magic stealing warlock appears, Abby gets a chance to prove herself (no one else has magic left, after all). She’s definitely not gonna shut up about how this is gonna show everyone. But deep down, Abby’s afraid they’re all right, and she really isn’t made out for this world.

Abby’s got long blue hair (which always seems to sparkle), a black and purple magician’s uniform (with a little purple hat), a belt armed with all kinds of magical items and a plastic wand. She has blue diamonds on the middle of her shirt, roller skates and a broom with training wheels! She also has a sarcastic pet bunny rabbit named Jack of Spades!

That's what I have so far! Thanks for being interested!!

[persephonyed]

♡ — i'm finally chilled out and caught up after the big wedding weekend, and now i really want to get some new threads going with everyone, and also maybe meet some new writing partners! i've tossed some muses under the cut that i've been really wanting to write with since i've been back, so feel free to give this a like if you want a starter / want to plot with any of them. i'm down for all the dramatic, angsty, h*rror-y, crazy stuff you could throw at me, and also am including some canon/canon inspired/supernatural muses because the itch is there right now. pick your poison!

here are the ocs my muse is begging to write!

aylin ozdemir; 28, bisexual, she/her, bakery owner & witch. aslihan malbora fc.

blair bennett; 22, sometimes closeted bisexual, she/her, university student. katie douglas fc.

camille st. clair; 24, bisexual, she/her, aspiring actress. jessica alexander fc.

catalina "lina" velasco; 30, bisexual, she/her, flight attendent. melissa barrera fc.

eleanor "nell" tolly; 34, bisexual, she/her, children's book author. rebecca rittenhouse fc.

flora zhang; 26, bisexual, she/her, grad student & aspiring author. havana rose liu fc.

indigo edmunds; 26, bisexual, she/her, corporate recruiter. grace van dien fc.

ingrid edmunds; 36, straight, she/her, cardiothoracic surgeon. amanda seyfried fc.

imogen edmunds; 32, often very newly out bisexual, she/her, elementary school teacher. elizabeth olsen fc.

isabella "izzie" eriksen; 26, bisexual, she/her, paralegal or celebrity pr manager based on verse. alisha boe fc.

jude landry; 28, bisexual, she/her, law student. maddie phillips fc.

natasha voigt; 27, she/her, bisexual, actress. lili reinhart fc.

nora giuliani; 27, she/her, lesbian, paranormal & true crime podcaster. victoria predretti fc.

ruby brodsky; 25, bisexual, she/her, grad student. gideon adlon fc.

sawyer klein; 24, bisexual, she/her, professional figure skater. grace van patten fc.

sebastian hernandez; 31, straight, he/him, inspired by the musical repo man. sean teale fc.

and here are the canon & various characters i really want to write rn!

ginny weasley; harry potter 24, lesbian, she/her, professional quidditch player or student depending on the verse. abigail cowan fc.

jacqueline "jackie" knightley; historical 27, bisexual, she/her, writer & member of nobility. sophie skelton fc.

leila owens; leia organa coded 32, bisexual, she/her, princess. laura harrier fc.

lily evans; harry potter 26, bisexual, she/her, potions shop owner or student depending on the verse. kennedy mcmann fc.

nissa; very acotar compatible 28, queer, she/they, fae royalty. jessie mei li fc.

pansy parkinson; harry potter 30, bisexual, wizarding world fashion designer or possibly have taken over rita skeeter's column undecided yet. sofia carson fc.

rhiannon wynne; 26, bisexual, she/her, witch. ellie bamber fc.

harry potter canon fcs i often write as if hogwarts were university / if they went to a magical university instead, or write them post-hogwarts and just living their lives now. and over all, most verses for everyone are flexible and can be added to or bent whatever way within the realm of staying true to their characters. feel free to throw any kind of plot at them all fr!

ps i’m also suuuuuper open to making new canon characters for anyone i vibe with i’m such a ship chaser please come to me with your canon muses!

[shebeafancyflapjack]

(RDR2 Whump ficlet, Prompt "Kneeling")

A little something for whumpuary, as I'm full of Arthur Morgan feels after finishing chapter 6 again.

Characters: Arthur, Tilly, Micah

Relationship: Arthur & Tilly (platonic/sibling)

Warnings: Humiliation, Stabbing (it's a Rose fic), SA threat, gunshot, tuberculosis, character death canon-compliant (major spoilers if you haven't finished ch. 6).

A different take on the ending where Micah uses Tilly against Arthur.

.

.

The pistol clicks. Empty. Useless.

"No!" A pitiful gasp leaves his lips as if he were begging his gun not to fail him now. Not here.

Micah rumbles a laugh, his arm tightening around his hostage's neck.

"What's wrong, Black Lung? All outta bullets?" He grins those crooked teeth, "Not so lucky anymore, are ya."

Arthur glares across at his rival, the thorn in his side since Blackwater, thinking that he could take the chance to rush at him, to tackle him to the ground before the rat has a chance to shoot him. Adrenaline could get him through taking a bullet enough to pin Micah down and snap his neck, after which he'd be content to let his body shut down. A quicker and more fitting death than the alternative.

He would do it, he would, were it not for Tilly being held in Micah's merciless clutches, gun pressed to her temple, the other man's finger caressing the trigger.

Ain't no way he'd be quick enough. And he won't risk trying. Not with her.

Tilly struggles, of course she does, teeth bared as she tries to squirm out of Micah's grip. Arthur is doing all he can not to look into those eyes of hers.

"She ain't nothing to you, Micah. Just let her be." He tries, despite knowing this isn't a man to be reasoned with.

"Oh but that's where you're wrong, cowpoke! I've learned the benefits of keeping a good girl in camp to do help take care of us...Only I don't need too many women wailing. This one'll do fine. We'll all take good care of her."

"I'd sooner you shoot me than let myself be a slave for you and your creeps, Micah Bell!" Tilly objects.

But Micah ignores her; "My buddy Cleet's had his eye on this one. He was so happy she stayed even when the others ran off. Now, he's known to be a little rough handling the ladies...but I'm sure she'll soon get used to him. And even if she don't...hehe...He'll probably prefer the struggle."

Sick bastard!

Once upon a time, Arthur would have said that Dutch would never allow such a thing, especially not to a girl that he'd taken care of like his own daughter. But that was the old Dutch...or the Dutch that never really existed. Whoever their leader was now had no qualms when it came to leaving his "sons" to die, so God only knows if Tilly meant anything to him anymore.

But Arthur knew what she was to his own heart. No matter how grown and beautiful she'd become in recent years, whenever he looked at her he still saw the same skinny, sad little thing that had threatened him with the tiniest bread knife for any food in his satchel, and then that same night after they brought her home to camp, had sobbed and screamed in terror when she'd woken from a bad dream. He'd already lost Isaac by then, Eliza too...He'd failed to save them. But this little one? He would protect her till his final breath.

And that weren't too long from now, he reckoned.

"Just let her go, Micah...Now..." A cough burns its way up and out of his rotten chest, blood spitting to the ground.

Micah grins; "You can ask me nicer than that, Morgan."

"Arthur, just go! I can handle him! Get to John and Abigail!" Tilly tries to implore. She must know, even though he hasn't told her, not properly. "Go!"

Not a chance.

"Micah. Please. Let her go."

"Hmm. That is a little better but...It don't quite hit the spot." Micah muses; "I got it! I know what you can do for me, Black Lung. Just one little thing and I'll let you both go."

"What?" Money? He has it all, him and Dutch, what else could-

"Kneel."

Arthur blinks, wondering if he heard right.

"What do-"

"You heard me. Kneel." He gestures with a jut of his chin to the mud between them; "Kneel and beg me to let her go...That's all I ask!"

"You're a sick little man!" Tilly curses.

He slams the fist holding his gun into her stomach. Arthur flinches, having to hold himself back as she cries out. Micah growls and cocks the pistol.

"NO, Miss. Jackson! I am a survivor! That's all I've ever been! And all of you have done nothing but look down your noses at me as if you were any different, any better, but you ain't!" He snarls, then looks back at Arthur; "Especially him. All those months, looking at me like I was horse crap under your shoe. But before this is done, I'm gonna have her see you for what you really are, Arthur Morgan. An old, pathetic, used up, diseased ridden failure."

The words sting. He knows they shouldn't, words used to have little to no effect on him, especially not from someone he hated so fiercely. But he knows they're true.

Eliza, Isaac, Mary....Davey, Jenny, Sean, Lenny, Hosea...even Kieran and Miss. O'Shea...

He failed them all.

Even Dutch. He knows he shouldn't blame himself for how he changed but he can't help thinking there must have been something he could've done to make him see sense.

All he has left, before the end, is to save those he can. Sadie, Abigail, Jack, John...and...

"Don't you do it, Arthur. Don't give him the satisfaction!" Tilly shouts.

His eyes finally meet hers. Large and brown, ready to swallow him as they had all those years ago. Those eyes that had looked up at him when he'd entered her tent expecting to fight off an intruder only to find a shaking, whimpering little girl, scared that the bad men from her past were going to come take her back. The face that been buried into his chest as he'd held her close and whispered the same promise he gave her so many times.

The same promise he gave her now.

"...I will keep you safe, Miss. Tilly..."

She shakes her head, tears shining in her eyes now, reminding him of that little girl all the more.

Arthur's jeans soon become caked in mud as he falls to his knees, head bowing slightly, hoping to fulfill whatever power trip Micah wants out of this. It doesn't matter, not anymore, even as the shame of it soaks him. He won't let Tilly die for his pride, whatever is left of it.

It's only the three of them in the woods, though anyone could ride along and see him in this sorry state. Not that they matter.

Micah's jovial laughter rings out.

"That's it! That's better! What' you think of your great hero now, girl?" He spits against Tilly's ear; "What did that annoying Irish brat used to call him? King Arthur? Not so high and mighty now."

"Enough! Please..." He tries, feeling a second scalding against his ribs; "Micah, let..."

Coughs rattle out, deep and thick, causing his shoulders to shake as his vision blurs and darkens.

Adding to the humiliation, he falls forward, catching himself on his palm as he heaves out a few more guttural breaths, blood dripping from his lips.

"Oh it just gets better and better. Take a good, long look, Miss. Jackson. See Arthur Morgan for who he really is!"

"I know who Arthur Morgan is, you snake." Tilly responds, defiant as ever; "No matter what you ask him to do, I know he's ten times the man you- DUTCH! DUTCH, OVER HERE, HELP!"

"Huh?"

The same grunt of a question is on Arthur's mind, waking him up from the tug of the abyss his rapidly declining health is pulling him into. He tries looking up, a glimmer of hope that his friend, his...His teacher, his leader, his everything for the past twenty years, has finally seen the truth and come for them. For him. That all those years weren't for nothing, that he didn't give Dutch everything he had for a lie.

He looks around, in the direction of where Tilly called to, squinting through the trees for a sign, a face. Nothing. And he knows then, it was just another lie. A necessary one, but that doesn't stop it from cutting him deep when he's already bleeding inside. It was cruel of her to give him hope, but it wasn't meant for him.

Micah was the one distracted. Micah, his twisted reflection, searching for a man who promised dreams, only to let his guard down enough for Tilly to twist and get a perfectly timed knee up between his legs.

"YOU LITTLE BITCH! I'LL MAKE YOU REGRET THAT-"

She's on him before he can recover, grabbing the hand holding his gun and biting down hard. Micah screams again. He slaps her off, hard, but the gun falls with a splat into the mud.

Pushing himself with everything he has left, Arthur reaches for the gun. He can feel his chest begin to convulse again. There's no time to aim, not when Micah is about to lunge for Tilly, his fingers bared like talons for her throat.

Arthur pulls the trigger. It goes off with bang that rings in his ears, all of his senses far too sensitive, the world spinning.

He falls onto his side.

Micah is the one on his knees now, hand pressed to a growing patch of dark red at his side. He's groaning, trying to push through it, to stand up, but Tilly stands over him. Metal glints in the setting sun. Did she swipe Micah's knife or has she always carried that? Is it the same one she used to try to get a crust of bread off him in that ally?

Those scared, sad eyes are gone now. She looks down at Micah with nothing but contempt.

"This is for Miss. Grimshaw, you piece of shit!"

A blink, then she's on top of Micah, pressing him into the dirt, stabbing the knife deep into his neck before pulling it out, then back in. Again. And again. Blood sprays up onto her face, as it had with Sadie. How lucky was Arthur to not be on the wrong side of two of the bravest women he knew. Not to mention Abigail doing away with Mr. Milton.

Part of him could watch her forever, it seems to take as long for Micah to stop gurgling and twitching beneath her, until the bastard finally goes still. Another part of him wants to pull her off, to tell her that it's over, to hold her close like he had when she was small. Her feral growls have descended into whimpers, from exhaustion or the ongoing grief of the past year, who knows.

All Arthur can do, unfortunately, is watch while letting out heavy, rattling breaths. It's coming. He can feel it now. He's pushed all he can.

Tilly looks up, as if remembering that he's there.

"Oh, Arthur..."

Micah is forgotten, abandoned as Tilly sheaths the knife beneath her dress and crawls over to him.

There's a shift of surfaces beneath him, cold and wet mud replaced by something soft, and he realises she's tugged his head onto her lap. One of her hands is on his hair, the other reaching to hold one of his.

"He....Is he....Ma-make sure...he..." Arthur tries to tell her.

"Forget about him, Arthur. He's not getting back up. I made sure of it." She assures him; "I got him, Arthur. I ended it."

He manages a weak smile.

"That you did....You're a good girl, Miss. Tilly...A good woman...Y-you take care now..."

"Don't you say that. You just gotta hold on. They'll be coming for us soon and then we'll get you somewhere safe, somewhere warm." Her fingers stroke across his brow; "John wouldn't go without you."

"John...has a family..." They need him more.

"So do you, Arthur. You always have and you've always taken care of us. Let us take care of you...Please. Just stay with me, big brother." He hears her start to cry again, breaking his heart.

If she asks, he'll do it...He'll try.

He has a family? That's what Dutch always said but...he'd never thought it would be real without him, or Hosea.

His eyes are becoming too heavy to keep open. He's so damn tired.

There's a rustle in the tree branches close by.

A clap of hooves...

"Arthur...Arthur, look, see! I was right! It's Sadie, Arthur, she's coming! We're gonna get you to John and Abigail...it's gonna be okay....Arthur..."

He tries to open his eyes, the rays of the sun fighting against the dark red spots. Is it really Mrs. Adler? He doesn't see her. It might be another lie, this one meant to keep him hanging on, just a little longer.

There's no Sadie, no horse, even though he thinks he can hear the muffle of her voice calling to them as she trots closer. Raindrops on his cheek though he knows there's no clouds.

All he can see, wearing a crown of antlers, is the buck meeting his gaze. Another deep breath, and Arthur Morgan rests in his little sister's arms.

[tickly-trashcan]

Spidering {Sebastian, Sam, and Abigail}

“Ahh! No, I don’t like spiders you guys!”

“Abigail, it’s not even real,” Sebastian chuckled, picking up the plastic spider that he and Sam had planted on her bed. “Happy Spirit’s Eve.”

Abigail stuck out her tongue and crossed her arms. Sebastian raised an eyebrow and glanced at Sam, who looked back with a grin. 

“If you don’t like spiders,” Sam started, wiggling his fingers. “We might be able to help.”

Abigail’s eyes widened and she shook her head quickly, waving her hands in front of her. “No, no, don’t you dare! Sebastian–!”

She looked to Sebastian for help, but he had the same look as Sam. She made a break for it but Sam caught her around the waist, making her shriek.

“Please! You guhuys!” She begged, already giggling. Sam hooked his arms under Abigail’s and held her up. She tried to kick at Sebastian, but he quickly went after her sides before she could get him.

She squealed, trying to pull her arms back as Sebastian spidered his fingers across to her tummy. She squeezed her eyes shut and laughed, squirming.

Sam chuckled. “Abigail, there’s spiders all over your belly! Uh oh, they’re going up!”

“Nohohohoho! Get them ohohohoff!” She whined. She tried to kick again, but Sebastian had wisely moved off to the side as he tickled her. He crept up her ribs, making her squeak. She tugged desperately on her arms, shaking her head as Sam continued to tease her with Sebastian.

“Look out, Abigail! They’re coming!”

“Noooo! Leheheheave me alohohone!”

She shrieked when Sebastian dug under her arms. She pulled her legs off the ground and Sam nearly dropped her from suddenly holding her up. He managed to keep her up as he and Sebastian laughed with Abigail.

“Plehehease! You guys, I cahahan’t! Stahahap!”

Sebastian glanced at Sam and they exchanged a nod. 

Sebastian ruffled Abigail’s hair then pulled his hands away. “I think the spiders laid eggs in your hair, Abigail.”

As soon as Sam released her she shuddered, patting her hair down. Sebastian chuckled, and she glared at him.

“I’m gonna get you guys for that.”

Sam shrugged. “At least I won’t have to deal with baby spiders in my hair.”

Abigail shoved Sam as he and Sebastian laughed, Abigail eventually joining in. She definitely wasn’t over her fear of spiders, but she didn’t mind Sam and Sebastian’s attempt to help.