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therappundit · 2 years

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REVIEW: ‘The Elephant Man’s Bones’ by Roc Marciano & The Alchemist

A few week’s after the initial buzz has died down, exactly how good is the highly anticipated collaboration?

After *years* of reliable hearsay from two of the most iconic figures in underground hip-hop, last month we received a long-awaited gift from Roc Marciano and The Alchemist in the form of The Elephant Man’s Bones, a stacked and polished snarl-fest, perfectly described by Roc’s own manager as “ criminal jazz* ”. The album arrived to an overwhelmingly positive response, feasted on by the loyal fanbases of both artists, who had been salivating over the project’s impending release since long before the completion of the tape was even confirmed. But after the initial buzz has died down, for me the question remains: as a fan, did it meet my (potentially unreasonable) expectations?

2022 is far from an ordinary year for rap music. At times it feels like the culmination of the “underground renaissance,” which - depending on who you ask - kicked off circa 2015/2016. Every week eager rap-addicts (myself included) dive head first into a ubiquitous sea of new releases from all different rap styles, from all different corners of the rap universe, leading to an unavoidable feeling that good NEW rap music is no longer a hope, but an expectation. Being fully aware of that sentiment, I spent the past few weeks checking myself to see how it impacted my early takes on The Elephant Man’s Bones.

What at first seemed like a not-so-out-of-the-ordinary act of mid-verse braggadocio on “The Eye of Whorus” off of Roc Marci’s last solo album, 2020′s Mt. Marci, (”coke up to my elbows / I still own the Elephant Man’s bones / rare stones make my hands look like Thanos”), was gripping enough to fit the bill as a final title for Roc & Uncle Al’s first full length LP as a duo. “The Elephant Man,” known in real life as Joseph Merrick, died in 1890 at the age of 27, after enduring what must have been a life of almost unparalleled suffering. At a very young age, his body began to develop masses of overgrown tissue, eventually leading to enough of a sever deformity that a normal public life was impossible. Infamously dragged through the sideshow carnival life, and treated like an inhuman freak of nature just to make a living, he finally found a home in London Hospital, spending his remaining years in relative peace, leaving a legacy as an intelligent, gentle soul that epitomized the “never judge a book by it’s cover” adage better than almost anyone else in history...

It’s not clear if any of the above factored into the title of this album. What is much more likely an influence, is the rich person’s quest to collect the most rare and expensive trinkets over the course of one’s life, and die with the most toys at your disposal. Some rap artists build a career off of mining such territory, but with the longstanding rumor that Michael Jackson identified with Joseph Merrick and may have even tried to purchase Merrick’s bones, suddenly we have a display of rare exclusivity that stands out from the pack. I suspect that this notion inspired Roc Marciano in the past, and from his perspective, even pieces of Merrick’s own life may have even inspired Roc, who never claimed to fit in to “mainstream” music expectations (but did he ever want to?).

It would not be outrageous to call Roc Marciano one of the most influential MC’s of the past decade. It also wouldn’t be outrageous to consider him one of the most successful independent artists in the history of the genre. There are plenty of moments on The Elephant Man’s Bones that capture that all too well. “Deja Vu” makes for an odd choice as the album’s lead single. It’s far from the concrete-cracking, go-for-the-throat type of joint that people may have expected as the first audio glimpse of this album, but it shows that both artists can dabble in territory that many of their peers cannot. The beat flows woozy, like it was meant to score the opium den hallucination of a cinematic anti-hero, providing just enough canvas for Roc to cruise in and out with confidence (“this is clairvoyance / I brought the stick for the voyage / the crest on the Gucci knit embroidered / in my forties, I’m still looking boyish”).

Boldy James, another frequent Alchemist partner in crime, comes through on “Trillion Cut” to bless the album with another one of the best verses on the album, and then Roc sticks the landing with “my pops had tracks in his arms from heroin / this is rap meets Gil Scott-Heron / Black Bugatti Veyron / the leather in the car was eggnog / vest I wore was kevlar / the scarf was a gift from Pablo Escobar / these ain't no regular old bars, this a five star restaurant - Marci...” Like many of his top shelf peers - JAY-Z, Rae & Ghost, Jadakiss, Nas, Ka - Roc Marciano understands better than most how word choice and attention to detail are some of the key traits that can elevate a rap artist from passable to being considered an elite lyricist. Ironically, Roc pens some of the album’s strongest bars towards the very end of the album, on songs like “Stigmata”, “Think Big” and on the special-edition-only cut “Macaroni”, stating “I’m an enigma - I’m still dealin with trauma from back when I was a drifter / Used to crash at Kim’s, she was my bottom-bitch, sometimes I miss her / in particular / But thank God I know how to pick em / everything in the Garden ain’t to be bitten”.

Meanwhile, behind the boards The Alchemist holds court throughout Bones providing cozy backdrops for Roc to flash his craft. One of the biggest differences between early 00′s Alchemist production and his work today is that he understands that not even the greatest MC’s can coast on darkness for forty minutes. Here he thoroughly embraces the use of piano keys (harkening back to that “criminal jazz” reference from earlier), ranging from sinister to breezy, never really flaunting his uniqueness as a producer, just assured that the subtle choices he weaves over his loops and chops shine through in the end. While it doesn’t touch his flex of versatility on his union with Armand Hammer on Haram, or his blunt-force boom-bap that he brings to the table on his joint ventures with Boldy James, there’s no shortage of high points on the production side. For many fans, “Rubber Hand Grip”, “Quantum Leap”, “Bubble Bath”, and “JJ Flash” represent exactly what they came here expecting, but while I enjoy all of those tracks, it’s the unexpected aesthetic choices he makes on songs like “Daddy Kane” that showcase the ceiling-less potential of a Roc and Al union (I don’t know if any of us expected something as uniquely funky as “Daddy Kane” to come from this album). At it’s best, Uncle Al’s work on The Elephant Man’s Bones champions his sublime chemistry with a longtime collaborator; at it’s worst, it’s a solid addition to his catalogue, albeit one that might not have a beat selection that matches the lofty expectations for this project.

The title track features some of the album’s more memorable lyrics, but I don’t think it matches Roc Marci’s past moments of clarity. Again, like many of his peers in the rap game that I mentioned earlier who often write from under a “rose growing out of concrete” pretense, Roc’s flashes of sensitivity and internal reflection loom large due to how suddenly and infrequently he reveals his softer side. But many of his stand-out quotes from “The Elephant Man’s Bones” sound like they’re mined from ground that he explored in the past, and on sharper songs. While lines like “the pen got pain in it / I came in the entertainment business with this / can't trust no bitch, she just tryna bang her favorite musician / like I ain't got feelings” are solid bars, coming from an established MC that has casually dropped some of the coldest pimp talk in rap history, it’s hard to feel this sentiment as more than just a "okay I guess I should have one of those more personal records here?” moment. When compared to past references from Roc reconciling with his heart being all too human (“if you love me, then buy me a V / was never love, why would I be naive / my team we got it out the mud, y’all n*ggas got y'all money clean” on Rosebudd Revenge 2′s stellar “Soul Power”, for example), it feels like Roc mostly has his pen set to stun instead of kill. Bar vs. bar this is all a relatively minor grievance, but when thoughts of “been there, done that before - but better” arise multiple times across an album, if Roc is guilty of any mistake it’s that he’s at the mercy of his own high bar with the snootier fans (of which I am one, for what it’s worth!).

Like Prodigy before him, The Alchemist’s chemistry with Roc yields some of the best slick mafioso rap since the Wu’s hay day, but I don’t actually believe darkness is what Roc does best. Yes, the gangster bravado has always been a part of his rep, but it’s his ability to take the fodder of harsh street life - guns, drugs, prostitution - and sew it all together seamlessly with splashes of darkness, humor, soul, swagger and some experimentation here and there to keep things fresh, that has always made him a MC’s favorite MC.

Above all else, it’s the experimentation that’s missing here. Both Roc and Al have enough great work to their credit, so they can more than afford to take some risks. Roc took some risks with the sound of Mt. Marci (some outside the box production choices which I appreciated, although some of it felt half-baked), but it was on his Rosebudd’s Revenge series when everything came together perfectly for Roc Marci. At his peak as a writer, he could ride "C.V.S.”’s mysterious, gurgling beat (courtesy of the very dope Don Cee), or zombie-level creep of “The Sauce”, and succeed with songs that were bound to be embraced by some and questioned by others. It showed not only the confidence in crafting his sound, but in continuing to push his boundaries. Delivery wise, Roc also came across as much more limber on those aforementioned projects than he has over the past few year. The challenge for Roc and other rappers that set foot in his lane is that amongst the “quieter” MCs, absences in variety loom larger over time. He has yet to pleasantly surprise me with his flow choices like he has on the Rosebudd series, but what I think this all just all amounts to is a surprisingly safe, relatively risk-free album in The Elephant Man’s Bones.

For some time now, I have believed that Roc was becoming more infatuated with producing than emceeing (work with Stove God, Flee Lord, Bronze Nazareth and others in recent years only confirms that direction). That would only make sense, since he is very much a strong producer in his own right, and it’s in his production that it does seem like he is the most open to stepping out of his comfort zone. I felt like he sounded bored over parts of Mt. Marci, and while he sounds considerably stronger on Bones, there are still moments where I feel like he’s freestyling and occasionally stumbling into sharp bars rather than meticulously shaping a strong verse. The running joke over the years is that he has as many sons in this game (an apt reference to the many other underground artists that are making a living today off of similar flow-patterns to Marciano, serving at best as a successful homage, but rarely as ear-grabbing as their father figure)....well, it’s 2022 and plenty of his sons have grown, but he should still be standing out from them. Dated references to gettin’ by like Talib Kweli, hittin’ em up like Blu Cantrell, Dylan, Dylan, Dylan, and Fonzworth Bentley only serve to make Roc sound like a throwback, which he hasn’t been since 2010, and doesn’t need be, whenever he wants to focus on his pen game.

At one point hungry fans might have considered The Elephant Man’s Bones an underground devotee’s Detox, but while Detox remains an abstract idea or symbol of “what might have been”, an Roc Marciano album with The Alchemist was always believed to be only a matter of time. Should this project have happened sooner? Maybe, but it’s hard to say that equally about both artists. Since 2011′s Greneberg brought us the first joining of Alchemist and Roc Marciano within a rap project, Roc went on to inspire a generation of indy artists and Al became the definitive “go to” producer, recommended by underground heads across the globe whenever they unite to snarkily question a rapper’s beat selection (at some point post-2010, the “they should do an album produced entirely by _____!” sentiment pivoted from DJ Premier being the assumed blank-filler, to the now famous Alc).

When compared to their early outputs both have matured so much as artists over the years, but one fact remains in the same: creatively speaking, neither Roc Marciano or The Alchemist need each other. In an age where Hip-Hop Twitter does everything it can to fast-track MC’s to The Alchemist early and often, Roc Marciano is actually the last MC that needs Uncle Al to set his beat selection straight. His own skill set aside, Roc has no shortage of resources to call upon whenever he decides to crank out a project (DJ Muggs, Animoss, Don Cee, Element, Q-Tip - to name a few). However, I don’t think The Elephant Man’s Bones was ever meant to be like any ol’ Roc project. If anything, it’s a victory lap, a celebration that these two prolific artists have been workhorses in rap music for decades, with little to no signs of rust. The heavily hyped Roc Marciano and The Alchemist album was stamped a winner by their fans before it left the gate, and it’s a well-deserved toast to the underground rap renaissance we are currently basking in.

Since “Roc Marcy” first began hanging out with the Flipmode Squad and The Alchemist first began messing with Muggs, Buc Fifty, Dilated Peoples and the late great Prodigy, we have seen their experimentation turn into new lanes for today’s artists to thrive in, continuing to foster creativity and push the boundaries of what is considered the standard for rap fans in 2022 and beyond. Neither Roc Marciano or The Alchemist have actually reached the King of Pop’s “capable of purchasing the Elephant Man’s bones” level of influence, but they’re the undisputed kings of their own sound, and fans wouldn’t want it any other way.

*https://twitter.com/DubCityRoller/status/1560804097883774977?s=20&t=vk5U33GX8bksjJQMK0GS6g

https://rocmarci.com/

#Roc Marciano #The Alchemist #TEMB #The Elephant Man's Bones #Boldy James #Action Bronson #underground hip-hop #ka #metal clergy #flipmode squad #The UN #Busta Rhymes

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cxrdycxps · 2 months

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Apologize • Abby Anderson

☢️ Canon typical violence • shitty friends • graphic depictions of injuries • AFAB reader • size kink kinda • Abby is huge • strap sex • thigh riding ☢️

Abby Anderson Masterlist • Main Masterlist

“I mean, I feel like we may be ignoring the elephant in the room?” You leaned back on your chair and looked around at the people gathered there. “Like realistically you all have to be thinking what I am?”

“Would you like to share?” Abby asked, her arms crossed and her glare leveled at you. “Seeing as you seem to be the only one who knows what you’re talking about?”

One glance at the others assured you that she was wrong. You weren’t the only one who knew. You were the only one brave enough to say it. Mel and Owen were avoiding your look and Manny was straight up staring at the wall.

“You want to travel for weeks, during winter, on some half cocked tip that the guy you’ve been looking for, for years, might be there? And you want to round us up to do this for you?” You asked her, voice growing in volume. “You’re asking us to risk our fucking lives for you to play executioner?”

“You don’t have to go.” Abby sighed, brushing you off. You hadn’t been part of the inner circle for long. Mostly because of your antagonistic relationship with Abby. Owen usually played mediator but right now it seemed he had given up that role. “Just leave now.”

“Abby, I’m gonna say this slowly. I’m going to tell you what we’re all thinking.” You stood from your seat, well aware of Abby’s strength and her abilities. You only had speed on your side if she decided to attack you. “Your dad was going to knife up a thirteen year old girl.”

“He wasn’t going to fucking knife her up.” Abby snapped, taking a threatening step towards you. “He was trying to save everyone.”

“There was no grounds for the studies.” You told her, taking a step back. “I’ve read them. I read every single page of what he had written. It was more than likely going to be a learning curve. He wrote that himself!”

“Joel Miller shot my father in cold blood.” Abby spoke through gritted teeth and you huffed a sigh, sick of the same rhetoric.

“Joel Miller shot the man threatening his little girls life. He felt that same rage you feel now. That little girl was obviously his world and your father was willing to take that from him.” You told her, stepping back again slowly. She was inching towards you. “I know why your dad was doing that. He was a good man Abby. But Ellie was just a child. She didn’t even know what they would have to do to her to get a chance of a chance at a cure.”

“I would’ve done it.” She told you and you saw your opening, grabbing at it with both hands when her shoulders sagged.

“I would have too. But I would never have let my child do it.” You told her softly and she relaxed her jaw before clenching it again. “If it was Owen or Mel or Manny, would you let someone unknowingly kill them?”

“We would’ve-” you held a hand up to Manny, silencing him.

“Would you let them do it to your father?” You knew Manny’s father was a sore spot for him and he fell silent again. “Joel did his duty as a father to Ellie. You heard Marlene’s tapes. You know what he felt for that girl, what he had lost before. He couldn’t do it again Abby and no one should’ve asked him to.”

“It would’ve saved the world!” Abby yelled, arms out wide. You winced and stepped back again. She was a formidable force to be reckoned with and you knew your odds were low if you even tried.

“It might have. It might have just been a dead thirteen year old on your father’s hands and a guilt he would’ve never absolved.” You told her and you didn’t even have time to throw up your hands to protect yourself. She closed the distance in two steps and threw a punch.

You took the hit, head snapping back. Owen stepped in at that point and you held a hand up to your throbbing cheek bone. “She’s not wrong, Abby. You know I loved your old man. But she’s got a point.”

You could feel the swelling starting, your vision blurry from the eye that took the hit. You couldn’t brush off the tears but it was more from the shock of the impact than the pain. “I would want to kill him too. I would want him to suffer for every moment I had to grieve. But you can’t do to Ellie what he did to you. He had a damn good reason.”

“It doesn’t make it hurt any less.” Mel stood, coming to Abby’s side. “We know that Abby. Knowing why he did it might make it hurt all the more. But this is the wrong path to take on. Vigilante justice won’t fix anything.”

“It’ll fix me. There’s a giant gaping wound in me. This will fix it.” Abby’s voice had lost the passion. There was no anger now, just a hollow echo of it. She had lost her fight.

Mel left Abby’s side to check on your face. She pulled your hand down slowly and winced at what she found. “Can you see?”

You didn’t know if you could or not. The eye had begun to swell, your lid barely opening. There was a trickle or warmth down your cheek and Mel’s hand came away bloody.

“Killing Joel won’t heal anything in you.” Your whole jaw ached to talk and you wondered how she could do so much damage with one punch. “It will only make that wound worse. You’ll have no one left to pin the root of your grief on.”

“Come on, let’s get you out of here before she stomps on your head.” Mel sighed, gripping your elbow tightly and leading you towards the entrance to the aquarium. “Good luck explaining this to Isaac.”

“Don’t suppose I can tell him I walked into a door?” You asked, your voice tight with the pain that was setting in heavy.

“Not unless that door was shaped like a fist. I can see each individual finger.” Manny tried to lighten the mood, his voice coming from behind you. You could hear the others talking with Abby and you hoped they would find a way to keep her off the ledge.

“You’re braver than I am.” Mel muttered quietly when you were far enough away from the main group. “I thought no one would say it.”

“You’re all at fault here. She’s been letting that fester for years and you just allowed it?” You asked, wincing when your words muffled. How big were Abby’s hands? Your mouth felt swollen. “You let her focus on that so she wouldn’t focus on you and Owen. Cause you thought she’d never find him.”

“That’s not entirely fair. She drove Owen away.” Mel snapped and you would’ve rolled your eyes if you didn’t think you’d damaged one of them irreparably.

“Into your open arms.” You sighed. “She needed a support system more than ever right at the moment you all let it fall apart.”

///

There wasn’t much to be done at the infirmary back on base. The swelling would go down in a few days, you could see light through the barely there slit when your eyelids where pulled aparet by probing fingers. It meant you probably weren’t blind or permanently disfigured. You did have a headache that seemed to be entering migraine territory.

Mel guessed at concussion on top of a stable fracture to your cheek bone. You knew she was probably right but it didn’t stop you leaving the infirmary and sneaking back to your room, dodging the questions from well meaning colleagues.

You had expected the knock on the door a lot sooner. Mel had been gone on break when you ditched the ward. You thought she would’ve come looking for you right away.

You groaned and pushed yourself out of bed. Your head felt so heavy that it hung forward and took effort to straighten up again. You massaged your temple gently, mindful of the bruising. When the door opened though you flinched and stepped back. Abby was standing there with her arms crossed.

She sucked in a breath at the sight of you and retreated back a step, letting her arms fall limply to her side. You were aware of how you looked and you knew it wasn’t pretty.

Abby didn’t speak. She stared at you, starting from your feet up to your face. Watching you as if she could catalogue your injuries through observation alone. And who knows, maybe she could.

After what felt like hours of staring you blinked your one eye that opened right now at her and held the door open further. She looked from the door back to your face and shook her head, stalking back in the direction of her own room that she shared with Manny.

You stepped out into the hallway and watched her go before shrugging and returning to your room.

///

The days that followed were hell. You didn’t know pain until the following morning when you rolled over as you were waking up and lifted a hand to rub your eye.

You hissed and then winced at the stiffness in your jaw. In the bathroom your mirror told you everything you needed to know that the throbbing in your skull hadn’t told you. You looked way worse, the bruising taking over half your face. You almost swore you could see her imprinted hand like Manny had joked.

Everything hurt and every movement pulled against it. You showered and the water pressure hurt your bruises. Opening your mouth wide enough to brush your teeth made you actually cry. Pulling your hair back even managed to make the pressure in your skull build so you had left it down.

You were pretty sure chewing was out of the question and you had no doubt you were going to have to make a pitstop and beg for one of those good pain injections you knew Mel had on hand.

Isaac had taken you off duty while you were recovering and you were more than grateful for that fact, donning a hoodie and pulling the hood up to cover your face from prying eyes.

Mel wasn’t working in the infirmary that morning but Nora offered a pain injection and some calorie packs to be dissolved in water. You shoved them in your pocket and sat still when she jabbed you with the pain relief.

The canteen happened to have soup on and you grabbed a bowl to take with you, returning to your room to wallow in your own pain and misery. You wondered again how one person could have such strength in them.

Late in the evening a knock came to your door. You opened it, expecting at least one of your friends to visit. Instead it was Abby. You didn’t flinch this time but she did, looking you over again. You opened the door wider again but she only made her observations and left, stalking down the corridor out of sight.

///

The pattern of your days continued this way for the first week. Mel and Nora allowed you three pain injections but you didn’t bother taking the fourth, just accepting calorie packs and retreating to your room.

Abby visited very evening, looked you over and then left. Every evening you offered for her to come in to your room. Every evening she turned on her heel. You were kind of getting used to watching her walk away.

Not for the first time in your life did you wish she was in some way queer. What you would give to climb her like a tree. But unfortunately her only relationship had been Owen and the rare times she had slept with anyone since it was always a man.

Not for lack of women trying. She had shot them all down stating she was in fact straight. It had probably caused more of the antagonism between you both as a means to keep yourself from getting hurt.

On the tenth day your eye was able to open all the way again. You didn’t seem to have any damage to your vision which was a lot more than you had expected if you were being truthful.

The swelling was going down in your face. It still hurt a little to chew and you hadn’t been speaking all that much but you’d soon be fit to return to work.

That evening you waited when Abby knocked instead of answering the door right away. She shifted for a minute, stepping closer to the door and further away again before knocking a second time.

You opened the door but turned away before she could look at you, returning to your bed and pressing play on the movie you had put in just before she arrived. “If you’re coming to have your nightly stare then you better come in and do it.”

Your voice was more of a croak and you had to clear your throat twice to get the words out. It was just from a lack of use because opening your mouth still hurt.

Abby lingered outside your door for a few seconds before she stepped over the threshold and shut the door behind her. There was no light on in the room but you knew the tv was bright enough to show her what she wanted to see.

“Looks better.” She spoke for the first time since you had left her in that aquarium. You hadn’t expected her to but it made for a nice change.

“It is better. No lasting damage to my eye, the headaches are gone and I can open my mouth again.” You didn’t tell her it hurt to open your mouth. She didn’t need to know that. “Just need to be careful with pressure or impact to my cheekbone. It’s a stable fracture right now but any further damage will need surgery.”

Abby flinched in the darkness, almost standing by your bed now. You didn’t look at her, not directly. She hesitated, hand reaching out and dropping back again. “I’m-”

“You can put the clothes on my desk and bring the chair over. Manny sent this movie up for me to watch. He knows I’ve always liked these movies.” You huff and hold the box out to Abby who took it from you. It’s one of those movies that leave you with more questions than answers. You have to ask the older people in the compound about certain elements of the movie and get them explained to you.

Wild Child came out in 2008, a whole five years before the outbreak happened. Watching how teenagers experienced lives back then gave you an understanding of what had been lost.

Abby sets the movie box down and moves to lift the pile of clothes from the chair and place them on your desk as instructed. The opening scene of the movie begins and you focus on it.

///

You woke alone the clothes back in a pile on your chair and the television switched off. An extra blanket had been placed over you and you didn’t have to ask why with the temperature of the room. Winter had landed in Seattle.

Your bruises were fading, mostly just the point of impact a weird shade just off your usual skin tone. The swelling had also receded and while opening and closing your mouth caused stiffness, it didn’t really hurt that much.

Nora’s probing fingers still made you wince in the infirmary, indicating the fracture wasn’t healed enough to let you back on active duty. Something she reiterated to Isaac who ordered you take a few more days. You didn’t argue with him even though you wanted to. You knew better than that.

That night you and Abbey watched Pitch Perfect. Another movie that left you with many questions. You had a fascination with high school and college. You would’ve been facing all of it right now had nothing happened.

Right as the movie ended Abby whispered your name. You pretended not to hear her, letting your eyes fall shut to see what she would do. She eased herself from the chair quietly and moved it back to its place. The weight of a second blanket landed over you again.

Most surprising was the delicate stroke of her finger over the point of impact her fist had made almost two weeks beforehand. “I’m sorry.”

You hadn’t let her say it. Interrupting her each time. Neither of you talked besides you telling Abby what the movie would be called. And her aborted attempt to apologize each time.

///

“Boo fucking yah, baby. Back and better than ever.” You swung yourself up onto the bed of the truck and slapped your hand down on Manny’s shoulder. “Get the fuck out of my seat, big man.”

Manny grunted but shifted over to the passenger side. Owen and Nora hauled themselves up onto the bed of the truck, Alice taking her place at their feet. “How are you feeling?”

“Nora, thanks to your excellent care I am a new woman.” You pumped your fist before revving your engine and tearing out of the compound as fast as you could with shouts of complaints from the others. “I’m so fucking excited to be outside that I think I’m actually high off fresh air.”

“You’re fucking crazy, is what you are.” Manny laughed from the passenger seat as you raised a gear and hit the road, swerving around abandoned vehicles. “You know people used to just drive all over the country and call them road trips? They’d just drive all day. For fun.”

“None of them ever drive with you. Nothing fun about it.” Owen called and you rolled your eyes at his withdrawn tone. You didn’t like Owen all that much. Mostly cause he had what you had wanted and had given it all up. For Mel. A downgrade if you were being honest.

“Shut up, Owen. She’s enjoying freedom and still having sight in both eyes.” Manny cheered and you pumped your fist again. “Both hands on the wheel!”

The patrol had been successful, scouting warehouses further out of the territory the WLF owned. There was great rewards in an old movie rental place and you even got to take down two runners.

When you returned the keys to the truck and your weapons you found Abby waiting at the door to the canteen, arms crossed. She barely spoke to Owen or Nora, slapping her palm to Manny’s when he held his out. She gave you the typical once over you had grown so used to.

There was no longer evidence of your injury. Your cheekbone had healed, you were as loud as ever and yet Abby still visited your room every night to check on you.

“I didn’t know Isaac approved your return to active duty yet.” It was the most she had said to you in a month and you froze in place like a scolded child.

“Last minute decision he made this morning. The others needed an extra set of hands and Nora signed me off two days ago.” You weren’t sure why you were explaining yourself. Or why you were so nervous when Abby stepped closer to you. You didn’t retreat though, not this time.

“How did it go?” She asked quietly, another step in your direction. You swallowed your nerves when she entered your personal space, the tip of her boots barely a hair’s breadth from yours. “See any scars or infected?”

“Um, a few runners. Nothing major.” You told her and she smiled blandly, her hand raising to your face. You flinched minutely and she froze but you moved closer, granting her permission to touch you. Her thumb soothed the barely these scar from where the impact of the very hand that she was being so gentle with right now had split your flesh that day.

“What’s on the watch list tonight?” She asked softly. You were too lost in the caress of her thumb to answer her and she chuckled, letting her hand fall. “You hear me?”

“Sorry, what?” You blinked at her and she laughed again, lowly so that only you would hear it. She took a step back and you snapped back to the present instead of floating above your body. “Oh, uh. I found the fourth Harry Potter movie. So now we’ve the full set and can watch them.”

“Eight movies to watch.” She hummed and you nodded. “That’s a lot of time spent together.”

“Mhmm.” You nodded and she laughed at how distracted you clearly were.

“I’ll see you later then.”

///

You knew how it looked. It looked bad. It looked desperate. It looked like you were the unluckiest bastard on this earth. It looked like you were an idiot.

A knock sounded at the door.

It looked like you were out of time.

Abby let herself into your room while you stood frozen with your back to her. You heard the steps she took and then how she paused a little away from you. Your shoulders tensed and she took another step closer.

“If you wanted me in your bed that bad you only had to ask.” She laughed quietly and your shoulders relaxed. The broken chair no longer an omen of all things bad. You had been standing on it while changing a lightbulb and the leg had given up.

The chair had been old when you had gotten it. That had been years ago. You weren’t surprised just more annoyed at the timing. “I was changing a lightbulb.”

“Is that right? You get it changed?” Abby asked as you turned to face her. Your breath hitched. It hadn’t been warm in months in Seattle. Especially not on base in the concrete rooms without insulation.

But there Abby was in a tank top and sweatpants like it was the middle of summer. You wanted the ground to open and swallow you now because you knew you’d embarrass yourself.

Her shoulders and arms were bared to you, the muscle definition making you feel physically faint. You wanted her to pick you up and toss you around. You were half tempted to piss her off enough that she’d punch you again.

“Well, did you?” You blinked at Abby for several long seconds before realizing she had asked a question. One you hadn’t heard because you were too busy wondering if there was a position that would let you grind on her bicep.

“Did I what?” You asked her, shaking your head. She looked up to the lightbulb and back to your hand. It was an empty socket and you had two bulbs in your hand. She held her hand out to you.

“Give it here.” You handed the new bulb over and she reached up, just barely stretching herself and slotted the bulb in. You reached out for the switch and grinned when the light came on just to turn it back off. It was too bright for movie night.

“You’re handy to have around, you know that?” You asked her with a smile and she laughed at you. You kicked the broken chair out of the way and crawled into the inner corner of your bed.

“I’ve got plenty more skills where that came from.” She assured you while you arranged the pillows. When you turned to look at her strained voice you found her staring at you. Or well, your ass.

You pursed your lips and tucked yourself into the corner of your bed, hitting play on the tv. Abby only hesitated for a moment before sitting down on the bed and kicking her shoes off.

She leaned back against the headboard of your bed, one long leg stretched in front of her, the other bent at the knee. Her muscle definition was apparent through her sweatpants and you wanted to ride her thigh so bad you had to bite your lip to keep yourself from saying it.

This pattern continued for the length of the eight days it took to watch Harry Potter. She sat the same way each night and each night you watched her thigh and her arm closest to you more than you watched the movie.

As per tradition at this point, Abby would say your name at the end of the movie and then usually tuck you in except this time she didn’t say anything when the credits rolled and you realized she was asleep.

You wanted to wake her, let her go back to her room. But she was fast asleep and she had slid most the way down the bed that she wasn’t going to hurt herself to sleep in that position. You turned the movie off and turned your back to her and let her sleep.

///

Warm. It was so fucking warm. Your body was melting, you were almost sure of it. You blinked your eyes open and groaned quietly. Was the compound on fire or something? What was with the heat?

Your body froze at the huff of breath against your neck. Abby surrounded you right now and you could feel her all over. She had managed to spoon you during the night, your head pillowed on her bicep, her other hand wrapped around your waist. Her big hand rested on your sternum, right between your breasts and you couldn’t help the pulse of arousal.

Her face was tucked up against your neck and her steady breathing let you know she hadn’t woken yet. So you did the cowardly thing and relaxed back into her hold, letting yourself enjoy it.

You drifted off to sleep again apparently because when you woke Abby was shifting around behind you but hadn’t actually moved away yet. “What time ‘s it?”

Abby froze when you spoke but you felt her twist to look at your clock. “Uh, early. Almost eight.”

“Got anywhere to be?” You asked, your hand moving to stop the slow retreat of her arm around your waist. She froze again and you waited for her to make a decision.

“Not until twelve. I’m headed out with Owen and Nora.” She was whispering right in your ear and you couldn’t help the shiver.

“Mm, you’re heading out with me, Owen and Mel.” You corrected her, shuffling back into her hold. “It’ll be fun, me and the love triangle that hates me.”

“Hates you? Does it look like I hate you?” Abby asked and you hummed, shrugging your shoulders. “I don’t hate you.”

“Then go back to sleep, Abs.” You huffed and she laughed against your neck, tightening her arms around you.

///

“Owen, get out of my passenger seat right the fuck now.” You pulled yourself up onto the bed of the truck and Owen looked panicked. Mel shared his look and you stared between them. “What?”

“Abby is coming with us.” Mel told you quietly like it was a secret. “We weren’t aware that you were driving.”

“I know Abby is coming?” You looked between them, confused. “That’s why I want Owen out of the passenger seat.”

Abby arrived on the scene and pulled herself up, looking between all three of you. “Am I interrupting something here?”

“We didn’t know you two had been cleared to work together.” Mel spoke up against the silence and you laughed. “She shattered your cheek bone, it’s a viable worry.”

“Firstly, it was a stable fracture. It’s all healed up and I’m not saying I deserved it but we all know why I got it.” You slotted yourself into the drivers seat. “Besides, Abby apologized.”

“Apologized?” Mel asked, dubious. Owen moved from the passenger seat, his eyes narrowed between you both as Abby took his place.

“That thing that neither of you ever did after screwing around behind my back?” Abby asked and the truck fell silent. You bit your lip to hide your smile before starting your engine.

Mel and Owen took their seats quickly and you tore out of the compound with a whoop and an accompanied bark from Shadow.

The patrol stayed quiet, moving from building to building in silence. It was driving you up the wall. You kept Shadow with you, moving around each room, checking for anything that might be of use.

“Think they might hate me as much as they hate you now?” You didn’t jump when Abby spoke but you did have to fight the urge. You turned from where you were rifling through a cabinet to find her leaning on the door frame. She took up the whole door way and you salivated just a little.

“Nope. Because you only repeated what I already called them out on.” You told her, returning to your cabinet which just seemed to hold old office supplies.

“You called them out on sneaking around behind my back?” Abby asked. You could hear her walking closer as you tossed decaying reams of paper out of your way.

“Mhmm.” You hummed, stuffing some markers in your bag. There were still in the packaging so you had high hopes they hadn’t dried out yet. She stopped behind you, you could feel her body heat.

“Why would you do that?” She asked and you shrugged, shuffling sideways to the next cabinet, she followed you. “When did you do it?”

“Like five minutes after you broke my face.” You shrugged and found bags of rubber bands that had all eroded with age. You tossed them all aside before standing up. You still didn’t turn around but you knew Abby was close behind you. She pressed closer when you were straightened up.

“Why would you come to my defense right after I had hurt you?” She asked, her large hands coming to rest either side of yours on the counter top. She was flush against you, her size difference almost overwhelming.

“Because no one ever seemed to come to your defense.” You told her honestly and you felt her huff a laugh against your hair. One of her arms wrapped around your middle, pulling you back tight against her. “I figured someone should.”

“Thank you.” You knew you probably weren’t imagining the barely there kiss to the crown of your head but a low growl from Shadow had you both spring apart.

“There’s something in here with us.” Abby muttered, loading her gun. You copied her actions and backed away from the door, maneuvering to the left of it while Abby took the right so you could both see either angle.

Whilst you and Abby had never gotten on, you were flawless patrol partners and it was evident in how you both worked, taking out two runners and a clicker with enough time for you to be sitting on a table, legs swinging and Abby to be thumbing through a magazine so weathered she couldn’t possibly be reading it.

That was how Owen and Mel found you both and they shared a look between themselves at both of your casual displays and the pile of infected between you both.

“Everything okay?” Owen asked cautiously. You looked up at him and smiled, hopping off the table. “Any injuries?”

“Nope. I got one runner and Abby got the other two.” A fact she was annoyingly proud of and you were irrationally bothered by. “You did good, Abs. I might let you be the little spoon tonight.”

Everyone in the room froze but you and Shadow who followed you out past a frozen Mel and Owen toward the truck. Soon the other three followed you, Abby slipping into your passengers seat. She was fighting a smile so you knew you weren’t in trouble with her.

///

You had gotten so used to Abby letting herself in that you had kind of forgotten that she did it. So when you stepped out of the bathroom with just a towel on and found her sitting on your bed, you didn’t really know what to do.

She gave you the usual once over before smiling at you. It wasn’t a nice smile. It was mean. Something that made your stomach fill with nerves and a wet pulse start up between your legs.

She was sitting on your bed, both legs stretched out in front of her. She patted a hand to her lap and you stared at her, incredulous. “Come on sweetheart, we both know you want this.”

You moved towards her hesitantly and paused a few steps from the bed. “You came early.”

“I did. I was hoping to talk about that little spoon comment but right now I don’t care. Sit on my lap.” It wasn’t much of a question, not the way she phrased it. You swallowed roughly again, looking back to the bathroom.

Abby wouldn’t hurt you. She also wouldn’t judge you if you wanted to retreat right now. You knew both of those things to be fact. The truth was that you didn’t want to retreat. She knew that.

It was an awkward shuffle getting onto her lap but that’s where she took over, maneuvering you so that you were straddling one thigh, one hand on her shoulder for balance and the other holding your towel together. “You don’t think I know that you’re watching me all the damn time?”

“I thought, I didn’t think you were into women.” You told her, suddenly shy in the face of this abrasive, domineering Abby. She only huffed a laugh and shook her head.

“I’m not. Never have been.” She told you and you froze in place, unsure where this was going. She bent her knee, her thigh tensing and you couldn’t help the moan, falling forward so your face was in the curve where her neck met her shoulder. “I’m sure as fuck into you though. I don’t know what it means but I know what I want to do about it.”

“Abby.” You whispered and her hands landed on your hips, pushing and pulling you into a slow grind against her thigh. “Fuck.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly it. I’m gonna fuck you.” She promised. When your hips had taken the rhythm she found acceptable her hands began to move. One travelled up the length of your back, up your neck, to cup the back of your head, holding you in place against her. The other tugged your towel free. “Gonna let you hump my thigh first like a bitch in heat. Then I’m gonna get my fingers into you, see how tight your little hole is.”

You whined against her neck, the friction of her sweatpants and the heat of her words had you burning up. “Please.”

“Yeah, you’ll beg me so pretty. Cause once you come on my fingers I’m getting down there to taste you. Cause I know you’ll be the best fucking meal I’ll ever have.” She groaned in your ear and your hands travelled to her biceps, your nails digging in. “And once I’ve done all of that? I’m gonna fuck you with my strap.”

“You, where’d you?” You were barely able to get your thoughts together enough to ask her about the strap. “Why?”

“Just cause I wasn’t fucking women doesn’t mean I wasn’t fucking anyone.” Your head tipped back when your breathing sped up. You lost the rhythm on her thigh just bucking against her as your orgasm washed over you. Abby leaned forward and the harsh bite of her teeth made you scream. “Not over yet, Sweet Girl. Just getting started.”

///

“Abby, Abby, Abby.” Every stroke of her cock had you chanting her name. She had you on all fours, her large hands on your hips and pulling you back on her forcefully. You weren’t sure if you knew words other than her name and please. She had fucked it all out of you.

One hand slid from your hip up your front and with a hand around your neck she pulled you up so your back was flush against her chest. Her grip on your neck was loose but you felt your breathing hitch. “Oh you like that.”

Her hand tightened around your neck and you gave in entirely, your orgasm washing over you and your mouth falling open in ecstasy as Abby wrung every last drop of pleasure from your body.

She pushed against you, friction from the strap driving her towards her own orgasm as she humped against you desperately. She some how managed to control the fall after coming so that you were both on your side.

“Thought you wanted to be the little spoon this time?” You asked her breathlessly and she huffed a laugh from behind you.

“Thought I fucked that attitude out of you.”

#abby anderson #Abby anderson x reader #Abby anderson x afab reader #Abby anderson x you #Abby anderson tlou #Abby tlou #Abby anderson smut #the last of us #tlou

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